Before proceeding with the roll-call Miss Ainslie took the large
Bible which lay upon her desk, and approaching the gentlemen said:
"It is our custom every morning to read a portion of the Scripture and offer prayer. We should be glad if either of you would conduct these exercises for us."
Both declined, the sheriff with some confusion, and the other remarking that he desired to see the school going on as if he were not present, in order that he might the better observe its exercises.
Miss Ainslie returned to her desk, called the roll of a portion of the scholars, and then each of her assistants called the names of those assigned to their charge. A selection from the Scripture was next read by the preceptress, a hymn sung under her lead with great spirit and correctness, and then Eliab Hill, clasping his hands, said, "Let us pray." The whole school knelt, the ladies bowed their heads upon the desk, and Eliab offered an appropriate prayer, in which the strangers were not forgotten, but were each kindly and fitly commended to the Divine care. Then there was an impromptu examination of the school. Each of the teachers heard a class recite, there was more singing, with other agreeable exercises, and it was noon before the visitors thought of departing. Then they were invited to dine with the lady teachers at the old Ordinary, and would have declined, on the ground that they must go on to the next precinct, but Nimbus, who had been absent for an hour, now appeared and brought word that the table was spread on the porch under the great oak, and their horses already cared for; so that excuse would evidently be useless. The sheriff was very uneasy, but the other seemed by no means displeased at the delay. However, the former recovered when he saw the abundant repast, and told many amusing stories of the old hostel. At length he said:
"That is a fine horse you rode this morning, Miss Ainslie. May I ask to whom it belongs?"
"To me, of course," replied the lady, in some surprise.
"I did not know," replied the sheriff, slightly confused. "Have you owned him long?"
"Nearly two years, she answered."
"Indeed? Somehow I can't get it out of my head that I have seen him before, while I am quite sure I never had the pleasure of meeting you until to-day."
"Quite likely," she answered; "Nimbus sometimes rides him into
Melton for the mail."
"No," said he, shaking his head, "that is not it. But, no matter, he's a fine horse, and if you leave here or wish to sell him at any time, I hope you will rememher and give me a first chance."
He was astonished at the result of his harmless proposal.
"Sir," said the little lady, her gray eyes filling and her voice choking with emotion, "that was my only brother's favorite horse. He rode him in the army, and gave him to me when he died. No money could buy him under any circumstances."
"Beg pardon," said the sheriff; "I had no idea — I — ah — "
To relieve his embarrassment the officer brought forward the special object of his visit by stating that it was thought desirable to establish a voting precinct at Red Wing for the coming election, if a suitable place to hold the election could be found, and asked if the school-house could be obtained for that purpose. A lively conversation ensued, in which both gentlemen set forth the advantages of the location to the voters of that section. Miss Ellison seemed to favor it, but the little lady who was in charge only asked questions and looked thoughtful. When at length her opinion was directly asked, she said:
"I had heard of this proposal through both Mr. Hill and Nimbus, and I must say I quite agree with the view taken by the former. If it were necessary in order to secure the exercise of their rights by the colored men I would not object; but I cannot see that it is. It would, of course, direct even more attention to our school, and I do not think the feeling toward us among our white neighbors is any too kindly now. We have received no serious ill-treatment, it is true, but this is the first time any white person has ventured into our house. I don't think that anything should be done to excite unnecessary antipathy which might interfere with what I must consider the most important element of the colored man's development, the opportunity for education."
"Why, they hold the League meetings there, don't they?" asked the sheriff, with a twinkle which questioned her sincerity.
"Certainly," she answered calmly. "At least I gave them leave to do so, and have no doubt they do. I consider that necessary. The colored men should be encouraged to consider and discuss political affairs and decide in regard to them from their own standpoint. The League gives them this opportunity. It seems to be a quiet and orderly gathering. They are all colored men of the same way of thought, in the main, and it is carried on entirely by them; at least, such is the case here, and I consider the practice which it gives in the discussion of public affairs and the conduct of public assemblies as a most valuable training for the adults who will never have a chance to learn otherwise."
"I think Nimbus is in favor of having the election here," said
Captain Pardee.
"No doubt," she replied. "So are they all, and they have been very pressing in their importunity — all except Mr. Hill. They are proud of their school and the building, which is the joint product of their own labor and the helpfulness of Northern friends, and are anxious for every opportunity to display their unexpected prosperity. It is very natural, but I think unwise."
"Nimbus owns the land, don't he?" asked the sheriff.
"No, He gave that for school and church purposes, and, except that they have a right to use it on the Sabbath, it is in my charge as the principal teacher here," she replied, wilh dignity.
"And you do not desire the election held here?" asked Captain
Pardee.
"I am sorry to discommode the voters around here, white or black, but I would not balance a day's time or a day's walk against the more important interests of this school to the colored people. They can walk ten miles to vote, if need be, but no exertion of theirs could replace even the building and its furniture, let alone the school which it shelters."
"That is very true," said the officer, thoughtfully.
So the project was abandoned, and Melton remained the nearest polling-place to Red Wing.
As they rode away the two representatives of antipodal thought discussed the scenes they had witnessed that day, which were equally new to them both, and naturally enough drew from them entirely different conclusions. The Northern man enthusiastically prophesied the rapid rise and miraculous development of the colored race under the impetus of free schools and free thought. The Southern man only saw in it a prospect of more "sassy niggers," like Nimbus, who was "a good enough nigger, but mighty aggravating to the white folks."
With regard to the teachers, he ventured only this comment:
"Captain, it's a mighty pity them gals are teaching a nigger school.
They're too likely for such work — too likely by half."
The man whom he addressed only gave a low, quiet laugh at this remark, which the other found it difficult to interpret.
CHAPTER XIX
THE SHADOW OF THE FLAG
Table of Contents
As soon as it became known that the plan of having a polling-place at Red Wing had been abandoned, there was an almost universal expression of discontent among the colored people. Never before had the authority or wisdom of the teachers been questioned. The purity of their motives and the devotion they had displayed in advancing every interest of those to whom they had come as the missionaries of light and freedom, had hitherto protected them from all jealousy or suspicion on the part of the beneficiaries of their devotion. Mollie Ainslie had readily and naturally fallen into the habit of controlling and directing almost everything about her, simply because she had been accustomed to self-control and self-direction, and was by nature quick to decide and resolute to act. Conscious of her own rectitude, and fully realizing the dangers which might result from the experiment proposed, she had had no hesitation about withholding her consent, without which the school-house co
uld not be used, and had not deemed it necessary to consult the general wish of the villagers in regard to it. Eliab Hill had approved her action, and she had briefly spoken of it to Nimbus — that was all.
Now, the people of Red Wing, with Nimbus at their head, had set their hearts upon having the election held there. The idea was flattering to their importance, a recognition of their manhood and political co-ordination which was naturally and peculiarly gratifying. So they murmured and growled, and the discontent grew louder and deeper until, on the second day thereafter, Nimbus, with two or three other denizens of Red Wing, came, with gloomy, sullen faces, to the school-house at the hour for dismissal, to hold an interview with Miss Ainslie on the subject. She knew their errand, and received them with that cool reserve which so well became her determined face and slight, erect figure. When they had stated their desire, and more than half indicated their determination to have the election held there at all hazards, she said briefly,
"I have not the slightest objection."
"Dar now," said Nimbus exultingly; "I 'llowed dar mus' be somethin' wrong 'bout it. They kep' tellin' me that you 'posed it, an' tole de Capting dat it couldn't never be held here wid your consent while you wuz in de school."
"So I did."
"You don't say? an' now yer's changed yer mind."
"I have not changed my mind at all." "No? Den what made you say yer hadn't no 'jections, just now."
"Because I have not. It is a free country. You say you are determined to have the election here, I am fully convinced that it would do harm. Yet you have a right to provide a place, and hold it here, if you desire. That I do not question, and shall not attempt to prevent; only, the day that you determine to do so I shall pack up my trunk, ride over to Boyleston, deliver the keys to the superintendent, and let him do as he chooses about the matter."
"Yer don't mean ter say yer'd go an' leave us fer good, does yer,
Miss Mollie?" asked Nimbus in surprise.
"Certainly," was the reply; "when the people have once lost confidence in me, and I am required to give up my own deliberate judgment to a whimsical desire for parade, I can do no more good here, and will leave at once."
"Sho, now, dat won't do at all — no more it won't," responded Nimbus.
"Ef yer feel's dat er way 'bout it, der ain't no mo' use a-talkin'.
Dere's gwine ter be nary 'lection h'yer ef it really troubles you
ladies dat 'er way."
So it was decided, and once again there was peace.
To compensate themselves for this forbearance, however, it was suggested that the colored voters of Red Wing and vicinity should meet at the church on the morning of election and march in a body to the polls with music and banners, in order most appropriately and significantly to commemorate their first exercise of the electoral privilege. To this Miss Ainslie saw no serious objection, and in order fully to conciliate Nimbus, who might yet feel himself aggrieved by her previous decision, she tendered him the loan of her horse on the occasion, he having been elected marshal.
From that time until the day of the election there was considerable excitement. There were a number of political harangues made in the neighborhood; the League met several times; the colored men appeared anxious and important about the new charge committed to their care; the white people were angry, sullen, and depressed. The school at Red Wing went peaceably on, interrupted only by the excitement attendant upon the preparations making for the expected parade.
Almost every night, after work was over, the colored people would gather in the little hamlet and march to the music of a drum and fife, and under the command of Nimbus, whose service in the army had made him a tolerable proficient in such tactical movements as pertained to the "school of the company." Very often, until well past midnight the fife and drum, the words of command, and the rumble of marching feet could be heard in the little village. The white people in the country around about began to talk about "the niggers arming and drilling," saying that they intended to "seize the polls on election day;" "rise up and murder the whites;" "burn all the houses along the river;" and a thousand other absurd and incredible things which seemed to fill the air, to grow and multiply like baleful spores, without apparent cause. As a consequence of this there grew up a feeling of apprehension among the colored men also. They feared that these things were said simply to make a ready and convenient excuse for violence which was to be perpetrated upon them in order to prevent the exercise of their legal rights.
So there were whisperings and apprehension and high resolve upon both sides. The colored men, conscious of their own rectitude, were either unaware of the real light in which their innocent parade was regarded by their white neighbors, or else laughed at the feeling as insincere and groundless. The whites, having been for generations firm believers in the imminency of servile insurrections; devoutly crediting the tradition that the last words of George Washington, words of wisdom and warning, were, "Never trust a nigger with a gun;" and accustomed to chafe each other into a fever heat of excitement over any matter of public interest, were ready to give credence to any report — all the more easily because of its absurdity. On the other hand, the colored people, hearing these rumors, said to themselves that it was simply a device to prevent them from voting, or to give color and excuse for a conflict at the polls.
There is no doubt that both were partly right and partly wrong. While the parade was at first intended simply as a display, it came to be the occasion of preparation for an expected attack, and as the rumors grew more wild and absurd, so did each side grow more earnest and sincere. The colored men determined to exercise their rights openly and boldly, and the white men were as fully determined that at any exhibition of "impudence" on the part of the "niggers" they would teach them a lesson they would not soon forget.
None of this came to the ears of Mollie Ainslie. Nevertheless she had a sort of indefinite foreboding of evil to come out of it, and wished that she had exerted her influence to prevent the parade.
On the morning of the election day a motley crowd collected at an early hour at Red Wing. It was noticeable that every one carried a heavy stick, though there was no other show of arms among them. Some of them, no doubt, had pistols, but there were no guns in the crowd. They seemed excited and alarmed. A few notes from the fife, however, banished all irresolution, and before eight o'clock two hundred men gathered from the country round marched away toward Melton, with a national flag heading the column, in front of which rode Eliab Hill in the carryall belonging to Nimbus. With them went a crowd of women and children, numbering as many more, all anxious to witness the first exercise of elective power by their race, only just delivered from the bonds of slavery. The fife screeched, the drum rattled; laughter and jests and high cheer prevailed among them all. As they marched on, now and then a white man rode past them, silent and sullen, evidently enraged at the display which was being made by the new voters. As they drew nearer to the town it became evident that the air was surcharged with trouble. Nimbus sent back Miss Ainslie's horse, saying that he was afraid it might get hurt. The boy that took it innocently repeated this remark to his teacher.
Within the town there was great excitement. A young man who had passed Red Wing while the men were assembling had spurred into Melton and reported with great excitement that the "niggers" were collecting at the church and Nimbus was giving out arms and ammunition; that they were boasting of what they would do if any of their votes were refused; that they had all their plans laid to meet negroes from other localities at Melton, get up a row, kill all the white men, burn the town, and then ravish the white women. This formula of horrors is one so familiar to the Southern tongue that it runs off quite unconsciously whenever there is any excitement in the air about the "sassy niggers." It is the "form of sound words," which is never forgotten. Its effect upon the Southern white man is magical. It moves him as the red rag does a mad bull. It takes away all sense and leaves only an abiding desire to kill.
So this rumor
awakened great excitement as it flew from lip to lip. Few questioned its verity, and most of those who heard felt bound in conscience to add somewhat to it as they passed it on to the next listener. Each one that came in afterward was questioned eagerly upon the hypothesis of a negro insurrection having already taken shape. "How many are there?" "Who is at the head of it?" "How are they armed?" "What did they say?" were some of the queries which overwhelmed every new comer. It never seemed to strike any one as strange that if the colored men had any hostile intent they should let these solitary horsemen pass them unmolested. The fever spread. Revolvers were flourished and shot-guns loaded; excited crowds gathered here and there, and nearly everybody in the town sauntered carelessly toward the bridge across which Nimbus' gayly-decked column must enter the town. A few young men rode out to reconnoitre, and every few minutes one would come dashing back upon a reeking steed, revolver in hand, his mouth full of strange oaths and his eyes flaming with excitement.
It was one of these that precipitated the result. The flag which waved over the head of the advancing column had been visible from the town for some time as now and then it passed over the successive ridges to the eastward. The sound of fife and drum had become more and more distinct, and a great portion of the white male population, together with those who had come in to the election from the surrounding country, had gathered about the bridge spanning the swift river which flowed between Melton and the hosts of the barbarous and bloodthirsty "niggers" of the Red Wing country. Several of the young scouts had ridden close up to the column with tantalizing shouts and insulting gestures and then dashed back to recount their own audacity; until, just as the Stars and Stripes began to show over the last gullied hill, one of them, desirous of outdoing his comrades in bravado, drew his revolver, flourished it over his head, and cast a shower of insulting epithets upon the colored pilgrims to the shrine of ballatorial power. He was answered from the dusky crowd with words as foul as his own. Such insult was not to be endured. Instantly his pistol was raised, there was a flash, a puff of fleecy smoke, a shriek from amid the crowd.
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