XXIX
MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM
Events moved rapidly during the next few days. The reproduction, in theChronicle, of the article from the Afro-American Banner, with Carteret'sinflammatory comment, took immediate effect. It touched the Southernwhite man in his most sensitive spot. To him such an article was aninsult to white womanhood, and must be resented by some activesteps,--mere words would be no answer at all. To meet words with wordsupon such a subject would be to acknowledge the equality of the negroand his right to discuss or criticise the conduct of the white people.
The colored people became alarmed at the murmurings of the whites, whichseemed to presage a coming storm. A number of them sought to armthemselves, but ascertained, upon inquiring at the stores, that no whitemerchant would sell a negro firearms. Since all the dealers in this sortof merchandise were white men, the negroes had to be satisfied withoiling up the old army muskets which some of them possessed, and the fewrevolvers with which a small rowdy element generally managed to keepthemselves supplied. Upon an effort being made to purchase firearms froma Northern city, the express company, controlled by local men, refusedto accept the consignment. The white people, on the other hand, procuredboth arms and ammunition in large quantities, and the Wellington Graysdrilled with great assiduity at their armory.
All this went on without any public disturbance of the town'stranquillity. A stranger would have seen nothing to excite hiscuriosity. The white people did their talking among themselves, andmerely grew more distant in their manner toward the colored folks, whoinstinctively closed their ranks as the whites drew away. With each daythat passed the feeling grew more tense. The editor of the Afro-AmericanBanner, whose office had been quietly garrisoned for several nights byarmed negroes, became frightened, and disappeared from the town betweentwo suns.
The conspirators were jubilant at the complete success of their plans.It only remained for them to so direct this aroused public feeling thatit might completely accomplish the desired end,--to change the politicalcomplexion of the city government and assure the ascendency of thewhites until the amendment should go into effect. A revolution, and nota riot, was contemplated.
With this end in view, another meeting was called at Carteret's office.
"We are now ready," announced General Belmont, "for the final act ofthis drama. We must decide promptly, or events may run away from us."
"What do you suggest?" asked Carteret.
"Down in the American tropics," continued the general, "they have a wayof doing things. I was in Nicaragua, ten years ago, when Paterno'srevolution drove out Igorroto's government. It was as easy as fallingoff a log. Paterno had the arms and the best men. Igorroto was notlooking for trouble, and the guns were at his breast before he knew it.We have the guns. The negroes are not expecting trouble, and are easyto manage compared with the fiery mixture that flourishes in thetropics."
"I should not advocate murder," returned Carteret. "We are animated byhigh and holy principles. We wish to right a wrong, to remedy an abuse,to save our state from anarchy and our race from humiliation. I don'tobject to frightening the negroes, but I am opposed to unnecessarybloodshed."
"I'm not quite so particular," struck in McBane. "They need to betaught a lesson, and a nigger more or less wouldn't be missed. There'stoo many of 'em now."
"Of course," continued Carteret, "if we should decide upon a certainmode of procedure, and the negroes should resist, a different reasoningmight apply; but I will have no premeditated murder."
"In Central and South America," observed the general reflectively, "noneare hurt except those who get in the way."
"There'll be no niggers hurt," said McBane contemptuously, "unless theystrain themselves running. One white man can chase a hundred of 'em.I've managed five hundred at a time. I'll pay for burying all theniggers that are killed."
The conference resulted in a well-defined plan, to be put into operationthe following day, by which the city government was to be wrested fromthe Republicans and their negro allies.
"And now," said General Belmont, "while we are cleansing the Augeanstables, we may as well remove the cause as the effect. There areseveral negroes too many in this town, which will be much the betterwithout them. There's that yellow lawyer, Watson. He's altogether toomouthy, and has too much business. Every nigger that gets into troublesends for Watson, and white lawyers, with families to support and socialpositions to keep up, are deprived of their legitimate source ofincome."
"There's that damn nigger real estate agent," blurted out McBane. "BillyKitchen used to get most of the nigger business, but this darky hasalmost driven him to the poorhouse. A white business man is entitled toa living in his own profession and his own home. That nigger don'tbelong here nohow. He came from the North a year or two ago, and is handin glove with Barber, the nigger editor, which is enough of itself todamn him. _He'll_ have to go!"
"How about the collector of the port?"
"We'd better not touch him. It would bring the government down upon us,which we want to avoid. We don't need to worry about the niggerpreachers either. They want to stay here, where the loaves and thefishes are. We can make 'em write letters to the newspapers justifyingour course, as a condition of their remaining."
"What about Billings?" asked McBane. Billings was the white Republicanmayor. "Is that skunk to be allowed to stay in town?"
"No," returned the general, "every white Republican office-holder oughtto be made to go. This town is only big enough for Democrats, andnegroes who can be taught to keep their place."
"What about the colored doctor," queried McBane, "with the hospital, andthe diamond ring, and the carriage, and the other fallals?"
"I shouldn't interfere with Miller," replied the general decisively."He's a very good sort of a negro, doesn't meddle with politics, nortread on any one else's toes. His father was a good citizen, whichcounts in his favor. He's spending money in the community too, andcontributes to its prosperity."
"That sort of nigger, though, sets a bad example," retorted McBane."They make it all the harder to keep the rest of 'em down."
"'One swallow does not make a summer,'" quoted the general. "When we getthings arranged, there'll be no trouble. A stream cannot rise higherthan its fountain, and a smart nigger without a constituency will nolonger be an object of fear. I say, let the doctor alone."
"He'll have to keep mighty quiet, though," muttered McBanediscontentedly. "I don't like smart niggers. I've had to shoot severalof them, in the course of my life."
"Personally, I dislike the man," interposed Carteret, "and if Iconsulted my own inclinations, would say expel him with the rest; but mygrievance is a personal one, and to gratify it in that way would be aloss to the community. I wish to be strictly impartial in this matter,and to take no step which cannot be entirely justified by a wise regardfor the public welfare."
"What's the use of all this hypocrisy, gentlemen?" sneered McBane."Every last one of us has an axe to grind! The major may as well put anedge on his. We'll never get a better chance to have things our way. Ifthis nigger doctor annoys the major, we'll run him out with the rest.This is a white man's country, and a white man's city, and no nigger hasany business here when a white man wants him gone!"
Carteret frowned darkly at this brutal characterization of theirmotives. It robbed the enterprise of all its poetry, and put a solemnact of revolution upon the plane of a mere vulgar theft of power. Eventhe general winced.
"I would not consent," he said irritably, "to Miller's being disturbed."
McBane made no further objection.
There was a discreet knock at the door.
"Come in," said Carteret.
Jerry entered. "Mistuh Ellis wants ter speak ter you a minute, suh," hesaid.
Carteret excused himself and left the room.
"Jerry," said the general, "you lump of ebony, the sight of you remindsme! If your master doesn't want you for a minute, step across to Mr.Brown's and tell him to send me three cocktails."
<
br /> "Yas, suh," responded Jerry, hesitating. The general had said nothingabout paying.
"And tell him, Jerry, to charge them. I'm short of change to-day."
"Yas, suh; yas, suh," replied Jerry, as he backed out of the presence,adding, when he had reached the hall: "Dere ain' no change fer Jerry distime, sho': I'll jes' make dat _fo_' cocktails, an' de gin'l won'tnever know de diffe'nce. I ain' gwine 'cross de road fer nothin', not efI knows it."
Half an hour later, the conspirators dispersed. They had fixed the hourof the proposed revolution, the course to be pursued, the results to beobtained; but in stating their equation they had overlooked onefactor,--God, or Fate, or whatever one may choose to call the Power thatholds the destinies of man in the hollow of his hand.
The Marrow of Tradition Page 29
