It will be noted by the reader who cares to trace back a few years of memory, or consult the records which have not yet become history, that this was in the primary period of what has since become memorable as the era of "reconstruction." The plan which was then sought to be put into operation by the Executive1 was what has since been known as the "presidential plan," supplemented by the "Howard amendment," and dependent on the adoption of that by the different States recently in rebellion. The abolition of slavery by constitutional provision, the abjuration of the right of secession, and the repudiation of the Confederate state-debts were the conditions precedent. Of course the future status of the freedmen was question of overwhelming interest, though that was left entirely to the decision of the various States.
It was for the discussion of questions thus arising that the meeting we have now in hand was called. The great subject of contention between the opposing factions was as to whether the recently freed people ought to be allowed to testify in courts of justice.
"What!" said one of the speakers, "allow a nigger to testify! allow him to swear away your rights and mine! Never! We have been outraged and insulted! Our best men have been put under a ban; but we have not got so low as to submit to that yet. Our rights are too sacred to be put at the mercy of nigger perjurers!"
This sentiment seemed to meet with very general indorsement from the assembled suffragans, and more than one burst of applause greeted the speech of which it was a part.
When the meeting seemed to be drawing to a close, and Servosse was considering the question of going home, he was surprised at hearing from the rude stand the voice of this same orator addressing the assemblage for a second time, and evidently making allusion to himself.
"Mr. Chairman," he said, "I see there is a man on the ground who has lately come among us from one of the Northern States, who has been here all day listening to what we have said, whether as a spy or a citizen I do not know. It is currently reported that he has been sent down here by some body of men at the North to assist in overturning our institutions, and putting the bottom rail on top. I understand that he is in favor of social equality, nigger witnesses, nigger juries, and nigger voters. I don't know these things, but just hear them; and it may be that I am doing him injustice. I hope I am, and, if so, that an opportunity will now be given for him to come forward and deny them. If he has come among us as a bona-fide citizen, having the interest of our people at heart, now is a good time for him to let it be known. If he has come to degrade and oppress us, we would like to know what reason he has for such a course. In any event we would all like to hear from Colonel Servosse; and I move that he be invited to address this meeting."
Had a bombshell fallen at the Fool's feet, it could not have amazed him more. He saw the purpose at once. Vaughn and several others, whom he had reason to suppose had no kindly feelings for him, were evidently the instigators of this speech. They were gathering around the orator; and no sooner had he had ceased speaking than they began to shout, "Servosse! Servosse! Servosse!"
The chairman rose, and said something amid the din. Only a few words reached the ears of Servosse: —
"Moved 'nd sec'n'd — Servosse — 'dress — meeting. Those in favor — aye." There was a storm of ayes. "Opposed — no." Dead silence; and then a period of quiet, with only an occasional yell for "Servosse" from the party of malignants on the right of the stand.
Servosse shook his head to the chairman; but the shouts were redoubled, and there was a closing in of the crowd, who were evidently very curious as to the result of this call.
"Bring him on!" shouted Vaughn to those who stood around. "Bring him on! Let's hear from him! We haven't heard a speech from a Yankee in a long time."
"Servosse! Servosse! Servosse!" shouted the crowd. Those who stood about him began to crowd him towards the platform in spite of his protests. They were perfectly respectful and good-humored; but they were evidently determined to have a speech from their new neighbor, or else some fun at his expense.
"Oh, bring him along!" cried Vaughn from the stand. "Don't keep him all to yourselves, gentlemen. We can't hear a word here. Give us a chance!"
This sally was greeted with a shout; and Servosse, still expostulating and excusing himself, was picked up by a dozen strong arms, carried along between the rows of seats, — rough pine boards laid upon logs, — and hoisted upon the platform, amid a roar of laughter.
"We've got him now," he heard Vaughn say to his clique. "He's got to make a speech, and then Colonel Johnson can just give him hell"
There was another cry of "Speech! speech! speech!"
Then the chairman called for order; and there was silence, save here and there a dropping word of encouragement real or mock, — "Speech! Go on! Give it to 'em, Yank!" &c.
Servosse had noticed that the crowd were not all of one mind. It was true that there was an apparent unanimity, because those who dissented from the views which had been expressed were silent, and did not show their dissent by any remarks or clamor. He knew the county was one which had been termed a"Union county"when the war began; and there was still a considerable element whose inclinations were against the Rebellion, and who only looked back at it as an unmitigated evil. They had suffered severely in one form and another by its continuance and results, and smarted over the sort of compulsive trickery by which the nation was forced into the conflict. He had marked all these things as the meeting had progressed; and now that those whom he recognized as his enemies had succeeded in putting him in this position, he determined to face the music, and not allow them to gain any advantage if he could help it.
He shook himself together, therefore, and said good-naturedly, —
"Well, gentlemen, I have heard that —
'One man may lead the pony to the brink,
But twenty thousand can not make him drink!'
So, while you have shown yourselves able to pick me up, and put me on the platform, I defy you to elicit a speech, unless you'll make one for me. However, I am very much obliged to you for putting me up here, as those rough boards without backs were getting very hard, and I shall no doubt be much more comfortable in this chair."
Whereupon he took a seat which stood by the table near the chairman, and coolly sat down. The self-possession displayed by this movement struck the crowd favorably, and was greeted by cheers, laughter, and cries of "Good!" "That's so!" and other tokens of admiration. If it had been the purpose of those who had started the cry to press him to an impromptu speech before a crowd already excited by a discussion they knew to have been in direct conflict with the views he must reasonably entertain, in order that he might meet a rebuff, he was in a fair way to disappoint them. Instead of making an exasperating speech or an enjoyable failure, he had simply refused to be drawn into the net spread for him by coolly asserting his right to speak or keep silence as he chose. And the crowd unmistakably approved.
The chairman, an old gentleman of courtly manner, whose very appearance was a guaranty of his character, urbanity, and moderation, evidently felt that the new-comer had been treated with rudeness, and that he had been made the unwilling instrument of a malicious insult. It was apparent that the stranger so regarded it, and the chairman could not rest under the imputation of such impropriety. So he rose, and, addressing himself to the occupant of the other chair, said courteously, —
"I have not the honor of your acquaintance, sir; but I presume you are the gentleman who has been called Colonel Servosse."
The latter bowed affirmatively.
"I assure you, sir, I am happy to know you, having heard so much to your credit that I have promised myself great pleasure in your acquaintance."
Servosse blushed like a boy; for there is no class whose flattery is so overwhelming as that to which the chairman belonged, it being united in them with a dignity of manner which gives peculiar force to the lightest remark.
"I am sure, sir," the chairman continued, "nothing could afford me greater happiness than to hear your views in re
gard to our duty as citizens of a common country at this peculiarly trying period in our history; and I am confident that such is the earnest wish of this assemblage. [Cries of "Yes, yes!"] The manner in which you have been invited may seem to you somewhat rude, and was certainly inexcusable, considering the fact that you are a stranger. I hope, however, that it will not have the effect of preventing us from hearing your views. Seen from your stand-point, it is to be expected that present events will bear a different interpretation to what they have when viewed from ours; but we have met as neighbors, and it is to be hoped that an interchange of views will do us good. I hope, therefore, that you will permit me to introduce you to this audience, and that you will make some remarks, if for nothing else, to show that you bear no ill will for our unintended rudeness."
Cries of "Servosse! Servosse! Colonel Servosse!"
There was no possible answer to an apology and a request so deftly framed as this, except compliance. Servosse perceived this, and, rising, gave his hand to the chairman, and was by him formally introduced to the audience. The crowd gathered around the stand in expectant curiosity; and a little group of colored men who had hung on the outskirts of the audience all day, as if doubtful of their right to be present, edged one by one nearer to the speaker's platform. The short terse sentences of the new-comer were in very marked contrast to the florid and somewhat labored style of those who had preceded him. It was the earnest practicality and abundant vitality of the North-West, compared with the impracticality and disputatious dogmatism of the South.
1 Andrew Johnson
CHAPTER XII
COMPELLED TO VOLUNTEER
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"GENTLEMEN," said he, "I did not come here to make a speech. I am neither a speech-maker nor a politician. Never made a political speech in my life, and certainly am not prepared to make a beginning to-day. I have bought a home among you, and cast my lot in with you in good faith, for good or for ill. Whether I have acted wisely, or have run on a fool's errand in so doing, is for the future to reveal. I must say, from what I have heard, and heard applauded to the echo, here to-day, I am inclined to think the latter will prove the true hypothesis Your chairman has intimated that my opinions may differ from yours; and, as this fact seems to be apparent to all, it is probably best, in order that we should part good friends, that I should not tell you what my views are."
Cries of "Yes, Yes! Go on!"
"Well, then, if you don't like my notions, remember that you would insist on my giving them. As I said, I am no politician, and never expect to be. I hope I have common sense, though, And I shall try to know something of what is going on in the world while I am in it. I don't want to discuss what has been done, nor who did it. I want to say one thing, however, about the immediate future. I have heard a good deal to-day about what the South wants, and must have; what you will do, and what you will not do. I think you have two simple questions to answer: First, What can you do? And, second What will you do? There has been much discussion here to-day in regard to freedmen being allowed to testify in courts, the repudiation of the war-debt of these States, and one or two other kindred questions. Allow me to say that I think you are wasting your time in considering such matters. They are decided already. There may seem injustice in it; but the war-debt of these States can never be paid. Neither can the freedman be left without the privilege of testifying in his own right. It makes no difference whether you accept the terms offered or not, in this respect — yes, it may make this difference: it is usually better to meet an unpleasant necessity half way, than wait till it forces itself on you.
"The logic of events has settled these things. The war-debt became worthless as paper when Lee surrendered, and nothing can revive it. The taint of illegal consideration attaches to it, and always will. So, too, in regard to the colored man being allowed to testify. This is settled. He was allowed to testify on the battle-field, and will be allowed to testify in courts of justice. When he took the oath of service, he acquired the right to take the oath of the witness. These, I say, are already facts.
"The practical question for you to consider is, How far and how fast shall the freedmen be enfranchised? You have to-day assented to the assertion repeatedly made, that the South would never submit to 'nigger suffrage.' But again I say, the South has nothing to do with that question either. The war settled that also."
"We will have another four years of it before we will submit," interrupted Vaughn in great excitement. There was an approving murmur from a good portion of the audience at this interruption. The speaker did not seem at all disconcerted, but, turning to Vaughn, said, —
"I hope not, Colonel. I've had enough; but, if you will have it, lend me your crutches, and let me join the cripple brigade this time, won't you?"
The roar of laughter which followed interrupted the speaker for several minutes, and left Vaughn the picture of amazement. That the stranger should venture upon such a retort as that to a Southern gentleman was quite beyond his comprehension.
"As I said," continued the Fool, "with the general question of colored suffrage you have nothing to do. It is a fact accomplished. It is not yet recorded in the statute-books; but it is in the book of fate. This question, however, you have still in your hands: Shall negro suffrage be established all at once, or gradually? If you of your own volition will enfranchise a part of them, marked by some definite classification, — of intelligence, property, or what not, — and the others as they reach that development, it will suffice at this time. Wait, hesitate, refuse, and all will be enfranchised at the same time by the General Government. You say it will be a great evil. Then you ought to lighten it as much as possible. If you will give the elective franchise to every colored man who owns a hundred dollars' worth of real estate, and every one who can read and write, the nation will be satisfied. Refuse, and all will be enfranchised without regard to your wishes or your fears.
"I have told you, not what I think ought to be, but what I believe is, the fact of the present situation. I can see that you do not all agree with me, perhaps none of you; but it will stand thinking over. Don't forget what I tell you, and, if you dislike my remarks, remember that you forced me to say what I have said, as well by your own urgent importunity as by the kindly compulsion of your chairman."
There was a dull, surprised silence when he had concluded. The very audacity of his speech seemed to have taken away all power, if not all inclination, to reply. Some of his audience regarded him with sullen, scowling amazement, and others just with dull wonder that any one should have the hardihood to make such a statement. A few seemed to regard him not unkindly, but made no manifestation of approval. The chairman rose, and stated that the views of the speaker were somewhat startling and entirely new, he presumed, to the audience, as they were to him. As Colonel Servosse said, they would stand thinking about; and on behalf of the audience he returned to Colonel Servosse their thanks for an exceedingly frank and clear statement of his views. If there was no further business, the meeting would stand adjourned.
Thereupon the crowd separated; and, after a few moments' conversation with the chairman and one or two others, the Fool mounted his horse, and took his way homeward.
CHAPTER XIII
A TWO-HANDED GAME
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HE had not proceeded far, when, in descending a hill towards a little branch, he overtook two men, who were evidently suantering along the road, and waiting for some one to come up with them. He recognized them as men whom he had seen at the meeting. When he came up with them, they greeted him pleasantly, but with something like constraint in their manner. It was nearly sundown; and one of them, glancing at the west, remarked, —
"Goin' back to Warrin'ton to-night, Colonel?"
"Yes," was the reply. "It's just a pleasant hour's ride."
"It'll be right dark afore ye git there," said his interrogator cautiously.
"A little moonlight will make it all the pleasanter," he laughed.
"Ef ye'll take
pore folks' fare," said the other man somewhat anxiously, "you're welcome to supper and a bed at my house. It's right nearby," he continued, "not more'n a mile off your road at the farthest. You might ride by, and stay tu supper anyhow. 'Twouldn't hinder long, an' we'd be right glad tu chat with ye a bit."
"No, thank you," he replied: "my wife will be looking for me, and would be alarmed if I did not get home by dark, or a little after. Good-evening!"
He was about to spur on, when one of the men cried after him in their peculiar way, —
"O stranger! wait a minit. Don't stop, but jest walk along as if we was only passin' the time o' day. I don't want tu 'larm ye; but it's my notion it would be jest as well fer ye not to go home by the direct road, arter makin' that speech ye did to-day."
"Why not?"
"Wal, ye see, there was a crowd of rough fellers thar that was powerful mad at what ye said about the nigger, though I be cussed ef I don't believe it's gospel truth, every word on't, myself. However, they're mad about it; an' thar's a parcel of towns-folks hez been eggin' 'em on tu stop ye somewhar on the road home, an' they may make ye trouble. I don't think they mean tu hurt ye; but then ther's no tellin' what such a crowd'll do."
"You say they intend to waylay me?" asked Servosse.
"Wal, no! we didn't say that: did we, Bill?" appealing to his comrade. "But we thought they mout stop ye, and treat ye rough, ye know."
"So you think they'll stop me. Where do you think they'll do it?" he asked.
"Oh, we don't know it! Mind ye, we don't say so; but they mout, an', ef they did, 'twould ez likely ez not be somewhar about the ford."
"All right, my friends. When I'm stopped, it will be a queer thing if some one's not hurt."
A Fool's Errand & Bricks without Straw Page 6
