A Fool's Errand & Bricks without Straw

by Albion Winegar Tourgée

  'Free! free! free, my Lord, free!

  An' we walks de hebben-ly way!'

  "A few looked around as we came in and seated ourselves; and Uncle Jerry, the saint of the settlement, came forward on his staves, and said, in his soft voice, —

  "'Ev'nin', Kunnel! Sarvant, Missus! Will you walk up an' hev seats in front?'

  "We told him we had just looked in, and might go in a short time; so we would stay in the back part of the audience.

  "Uncle Jerry can not read nor write; but he is a man of strange intelligence and power. Unable to do work of any account, he is the faithful friend, monitor, and director of others. He has a house and piece of land, all paid for, a good horse and cow, and, with the aid of his wife and two boys, made a fine crop this season. He is one of the most promising colored men in the settlement: so Comfort says, at least. Everybody seems to have great respect for his character. I don't know how many people I have heard speak of his religion. Mr. Savage used to say he had rather hear him pray than any other man on earth. He was much prized by his master, even after he was disabled, on account of his faithfulness and character.

  "The meeting was led that night by a mulatto man named Robert, who was what is now called an 'old-issue free nigger' (freed before the war). He seemed very anxious to display the fact that he could read, and, with comical pride, blundered through 'de free hunner'n firty-fird hymn,' and a chapter of Scripture. Some of his comments on passages of the latter were ludicrously apt. 'I indeed baptize with water; but he that cometh after me shall baptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire,' he read with difficulty. 'Baptize wid water,' he repeated thoughtfully. 'We all know what dat is; an' baptizin' wid de Holy Ghos', dat's what we's come here arter tonight. ['Amen!' 'Bress God!' 'Dar now!'] But baptizin' wid fire! — 'clar, brudderin' an' sisters, it allers makes my har stan' straight tu think what dat ar muss mean! Baptize wid fire! I spec' dat's de tryin' ob de gold in de furnace, — de Lord's furnace, — dat clars out all de dross, but muss be powerful hot!'

  "There was nothing special then for some time, until one man began weaving back and forth on his knees, and shouted, in a voice which might have been heard a mile, for fifteen or twenty minutes, only one sentence — 'Gather 'em in! O Lor', gather 'em in! Gather 'em in! O Lor', gather 'em in!' — in a strange, singing tone, the effect of which upon the nerves was something terrible. Men shouted, women screamed. Some sprang from their knees, and danced, shouting, and tossing their arms about in an unconscious manner, reminding me of what I had read of the dancing dervishes of the Orient. One woman fainted; and finally the see-sawing shouter himself fell over. Some water was poured on his head, a slow soothing hymn was sung, and in five minutes the assemblage was as quiet as any country prayer-meeting in Michigan. For me, I found myself clinging to Comfort's arm in almost hysterical fright. I begged him to take me away, but am very glad now that he did not.

  "After a time Uncle Jerry raised his head, which had all the time been bowed upon his knees since the meeting began, and, lifting his thin hands towards the people, said, in a soft, clear voice, —

  "'Let us all kneel down, an' pray, — one mo' short pra'r! short pra'r!'

  "He knelt with his face towards us. The guttered candle on the rough pine table threw its flickering light over him, as, with upturned face and clasping hands, he 'talked with God,' oh, how simply and directly! And, as he prayed, a strange light seemed to come over his brown face, set in its white frame of snowy hair and beard. He prayed for all, except himself, and seemed to bring the cares and troubles of all before the throne of grace, as if he had the key to the heart of each.

  "Then he came to pray for us, — 'the stranger fren' whom God has raised up an' led, in his myster'ous way, to do us good, — bless him, O Lord, in basket an' sto', heart an' home! He don't know what he's got afo' him! Stay his han', an' keep him strong an' brave!' But I can never reproduce the strange tenderness and faith of this prayer. I leaned my head on Comfort's shoulder, and the tears fell like rain as I listened. All at once there was silence. The voice of prayer had ceased; yet the prayer did not seem ended. I raised my eyes, and looked. Uncle Jerry still knelt at his chair, every worshiper still kneeling in his place; but every head was turned, and every eye was fastened on him. His eyes were fixed — on what? He was looking upward, as if he saw beyond the earth. His face was set in rigid lines, yet lighted up with a look of awful joy. His breath came slow and sobbingly; but, aside from that, not a muscle moved. Not a word was uttered; but every look was fastened on him with hushed and fearful expectancy.

  "'Hain't bin dat way but once afo' sence de surrender,' I heard one of the women whisper, under her breath, to another.

  "Five minutes — perhaps ten minutes — elapsed, and he had not spoken or moved. It was fearful, the terrible silence, and that fixed, immovable face and stony figure! There was something preternatural about it.

  "At length there came a quiver about the lips. The eyes lost their fixity. The hands which had rested on the chair were clasped together, and a look of divine rapture swept across the upturned face, as he exclaimed, in a tone fairly burdened with ecstatic joy, —

  "'I sees Him! I sees Him! Dar He is!' And he pointed, with a thin and trembling hand, towards the farther corner of he room. 'I sees Him wid de crown of salvation on His head; de keys o' hebben a-hangin' in His girdle, — God's keys for de white pearl gates, — wid de bress-plate ob Holiness an' de mantle ob Righteousness. Dah He is a-walkin' among de candlesticks yit! He's a-comin' nigh us, — bress His holy name! — a-lookin' arter His people, and a-gatherin' on 'em in!'

  "I can not tell you what a strange rhapsody fell from his lips; but it ended as it began, — suddenly, and without warning. The glorified look faded from his face. The sentence died midway on his lips. His eyes regained their conscious look, and ran around the hushed circle of attent faces, while a knowledge of what had taken place seemed first to flash upon him. He covered his face with his hands, and sank down with a groan, exclaiming, in apologetic tones, —

  "O Lor'! O Lor'! thou knowest de weakness ob dy sarvant! Spar' him! spar' him!' The meeting ended, and we went home. Somehow I can not get over the feeling that the little log-church is a place where one has indeed seen God.

  "They told us afterwards that Uncle Jerry often had these 'spells,' as they called them, whenever there was great battle pending or imminent during the war, and they could always tell which way the fight had gone, by what he said in the trances. They say he knows nothing of what he says at such times. I asked him about it one day. He simply said, 'I can't 'splain it, Missus. 'Pears like it's a cross I hez specially to carry. It's made me a heap o' trouble. Bin whipped fer it heaps o' times; an, 'sides dat, I allers feel ez if I'd lived 'bout ten years when I comes out o' one o' dem spells. Can't understan' it, Missus; but Uncle Jerry'll quit in some of dem spells yit!'

  "We do not often go to church now. There is no positive incivility offered us; but there is a constant coldness, which says, plainer than words can, that we are not wanted. Comfort still has hope that these things will wear away as time passes; but I begin to think that we shall always be strangers in the land in which we dwell. I not see any chance for it to be otherwise. The North and the South are two peoples, utterly dissimilar in all their characteristics; and I am afraid that more than one generation must pass before they will become one.

  "Your loving sister,

  "METTA."

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CONGRATULATION AND CONDOLENCE

  Table of Contents

  SOON after the Fool's publication of the Regulators' warning and his own reply in "The Verdenton Gazette," he received many letters, some of which may be given as illustrative of the atmosphere in which he lived. The first of these came from a remote portion of the State, and from one of whom the Fool had never even heard: —

  "COLONEL COMFORT SERVOSSE. Dear Sir, — I saw your letter in 'The Verdenton Gazette,' and was so struck with the similarity of our positions, that I determined to write to y
ou at once. Some of the worst of our people, as I believe, have formed themselves into a band of Regulators for the sake of attending to everybody's business but their own. I am a native of this State, and fought through the war in the Confederate army, from Bull Run to Appomattox, never missing a day's duty nor a fight. When it was over, I found myself with only a few hundred acres of land (which had been tramped over and burned and stripped by both armies), and no money, no crop, no stock, a large family, some debts, good health, and a constitution like white hickory. I made up my mind to go to work at once. I went to the nearest post, told my story, and got two horses. I did some hauling, and got some other things, — an army wagon and an ambulance. A friend who happened to have saved some cotton sold it, and loaned me a little money. I went to work, hired some niggers, told them I would feed them, and work with them, and, when the crop was sold, we would divide. They turned in, and worked with me. We made a splendid crop, and I divided right smart of money with them in the fall.

  "This year some of them wanted to work crops on shares. I could trust them, as they had worked for me the year before. I knew they had enough to bread themselves, and were well able to run a 'one-horse crop.' This would allow me to use my means in putting in more land elsewhere, and so be decidedly to my advantage as well as theirs. I was thinking of my own profit, though, when I did it. Well, I sold some of them horses and mules, and helped others to get them elsewhere. The spring opened, and I had the busiest farm and finest prospect I have ever seen. I was running a big force, and every nigger on the plantation had a full crop about half pitched, when all at once I got a notice from the Regulators, just about like the one you publish, only they didn't require me to leave, only to stop selling horses to niggers and letting them crop on shares. They said they had made up their minds that no nigger should straddle his own horse, or ride in his own cart, in this county.

  "I saw in a minute that it meant ruin to Exum Davis either way. If I gave in to them, I discouraged my hands, spoilt my crop, and would be swamped by my fertilizer account in the fall. If I didn't, the cussed fools would be deviling and worrying my hands, ham-stringing their stock, and my crop would be short. It didn't take me long to decide. I made up my mind to fight.

  "It wasn't an hour after I read that notice, before I had every horse and mule on the place hauling pine-logs for a stockade; though I didn't let anybody know what I had on hand. Then I went off to Gainsborough to see the post commander there, Colonel Ricker. He is a good fellow and a gentleman, if he is a Yankee. I told him square out what the matter was; and he let me have as many old guns as I wanted (part of them surrendered arms, and part extra guns of his command), and a couple boxes of ammunition. When I got back, I told the boys what was up, and distributed the arms. We put our horses in the woods that night, stood to our arms all night, put up the stockade next day, and sent word to the Regulators that they might go to hell. We've kept at work, being mighty careful not to be surprised, and have not been disturbed yet. I don't reckon we shall be; but there is no telling. I say, Stand your ground. They say you're a 'Yank;' but that don't make any difference. Law's law, and right's right; and I hope you will give anybody that comes to disturb you as warm a welcome as they would get here from

  "Yours respectfully,

  "EXUM DAVIS."

  The next was from the old doctor, George D. Garnet: —

  "MY DEAR COLONEL, — I was sorry to see that the feeling against you, because you are of Northern birth, which has been smoldering ever since you came among us, has at last burst into a flame. I have been expecting it all the time, and so can not say I am surprised; but it has been so long in showing itself, that I was truly in hopes that you would escape further molestation. I know that I had no reason to anticipate such a result, because you represent a development utterly antagonistic to that in the midst of which you are placed, and are so imbued with its spirit that you can not lay aside nor conceal its characteristics. That civilization by which you are surrounded has never been tolerant of opinions which do not harmonize with its ideas. Based and builded on slavery, the ideas which were a part of that institution, or which were necessary to its protection and development, have become ingrained, and essential to the existence of the community. It was this development which was even more dangerous and inimical to the nation than the institution itself. You must remember, dear Colonel, that neither the nature, habits of thought, nor prejudices of men, are changed by war or its results. The institution of slavery is abolished; but the prejudice, intolerance, and bitterness which it fostered and nourished, are still alive, and will live until those who were raised beneath its glare have moldered back to dust. A new generation — perhaps many new generations — must arise before the North and the South can be one people, or the prejudices, resentments, and ideas of slavery, intensified by unsuccessful war, can be obliterated.

  "I hope you will not be discouraged. Your course is the right one, and by pursuing it steadily you will sow the seed of future good. You may not live to reap its advantages, or to see others gather its fair fruits; but, as God is the God of truth and right, he will send a husbandman who will some time gather full sheaves from your seeding, if you do not faint.

  "To show you that not only you who are from the North are made to feel the weight of disapproval which our Southern society visits upon those who do not accord with all its sentiments, I inclose you a certificate which I received from the church at Mayfield the other day. I have been a member and a deacon of this church for almost quarter of a century. I was lately informed that my name had been dropped from the church-roll. Upon inquiry, I found that I had been expelled by vote of the church, without a trial. I demanded a certificate of the fact as a vindication of my character, and the inclosed is what was given me. It is neither more nor less than I had expected for some time; but it comes hard to a man who has reached his threescore years, and now sees his children pointed at in scorn, contemned and ostracized by the church of God, because their father does what he conceives to be his Christian duty.

  "With warmest regards for yourself and wife, and the fair-haired child who fills the sad old house with sunshine, I remain,

  "Yours very truly,

  "GEORGE D. GARNET."

  The inclosure to which he referred read as follows: —

  "TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN, — This is to certify, that on the first day of April, 1867, the deacons and members of the Baptist Church, at Mayfield, in regular church meeting assembled, Brother R. Lawrence acting as moderator, did unanimously pass the following resolution: —

  "'Resolved, That brother Deacon George D. Garnet be dropped from the roll of this church, because he walketh not with us.' And subsequently, on the same day, at the request of brother George D. Garnet, and to show that it was not from his bad moral character that the said church refuses longer to fellowship with him, the following was added to said resolution as explanatory of it; to wit, 'but persists, after repeated warnings and advice, upon organizing, encouraging, and teaching in a negro sabbath school, by which he has made himself a stumbling-block and means of offense to many of the members of said church.'

  (Signed)

  "JOHN SENTER, Clerk.

  "ROBERT LAWRENCE, Deacon and Moderator."

  The next letter was from a Union man of considerable eminence, who occupied the important position of public prosecutor in the courts of the State. He wrote a letter which is significant in many ways of the public sentiment of the day: —

  "COLONEL COMFORT SERVOSSE. Dear Sir, — I notice by your letter in 'The Gazette' that you are not only angry, but also surprised, at the outrageous demands of the Regulators. Your anger is but natural; but your surprise, you will allow me to say, shows 'an understanding simple and unschooled.' That you should be unable to measure the strength of prejudice in the Southern mind is not strange. You should remember that the war has rather intensified than diminished the pride, the arrogance, and the sectional rancor and malevolence of the Southern people. If you will consider it for a m
oment, you will see that this is the natural and unavoidable result of such a struggle. All that made the Southern slaveholder and rebel what he was, still characterizes him since the surrender. The dogma of State-sovereignty has been prevented from receiving practical development, but as a theory it is as vital and as sacred as ever. The fact of slavery is destroyed: the right to enslave is yet as devoutly held as ever. The right of a white man to certain political privileges is admitted: the right of a colored man to such, it will require generations to establish. It is not at you as an individual that the blow is struck; but these people feel that you, by the very fact of Northern birth, and service in the Federal army, represent a power which has deprived them of property, liberty, and a right to control their own, and that now, in sheer wantonness of insult, you are encouraging the colored people to do those two things which are more sacred than any other to the Southern mind; to wit, to buy and hold land and to ride their own horses. You can not understand why they should feel so, because you were never submitted to the same influences. You have a right to be angry; but your surprise is incredible to them, and pitiable to me.

  "To show you to what extent prejudice will extend, permit me to relate an incident yet fresh in my mind. During a recent trial in the court at Martinsville I had occasion to challenge the jurors upon the trial of an indictment of a white man for killing a negro. The Court, after some hesitation, permitted me to ask each juror this question, 'Have you any feeling which would prevent you from convicting a white man for the murder of a negro, should the evidence show him to be guilty?' Strange and discreditable as it may appear to you, it became necessary, in addition to the regular panel, to order three writs of venire, of fifty each, before twelve men could be found who could answer this simple question in the negative. When prejudice goes so far that a hundred and fifty men acknowledge upon their oaths that they will not convict a white man for killing a negro, you must not be surprised that the ante bellum dislike and distrust of Northern men should show itself in the same manner. The South has been changed only in so far as the overwhelming power of the conqueror has rendered change imperative. In its old domain, prejudice is still as bitter and unreasoning as ever. Perhaps I ought not to reproach you for expressing surprise; since it was not clear even to me, a native, until I had carefully studied the cause and effect. While I sincerely regret the unfortunate folly of these men, and hope it may extend no farther, I must still beg you to consider that it is only what must always be expected under such circumstances as the recent past has witnessed.