THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
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m 
 
 ^M. 
 
SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 
 
 BY 
 
 W. S. HARRISON. 
 
 Nashville, Tenn.: 
 
 Publishing House of the M. E. Church, South. 
 
 Barbee & Smith, Agents. 
 
 1892. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, 
 
 By the Book Agents of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The existence of slavery in the South for more than two 
 hundred years, and in the Southwest from the earliest settle- 
 ment of the country, developed a unique condition of society. 
 There were three distinct classes: the slave owners, the labor- 
 ing white people, and the slaves. The line was sharply drawn 
 between the slave-holding and nonslave-holding classes. As a 
 rule, they lived apart, occupying different chai-acters of soil. 
 One class rested supinely on slave labor; the other toiled inces- 
 santly in competition with that labor. Their manners and 
 " manner of speech " were different. The slave-owning class 
 was highly educated, and spoke the purest English ; the other 
 was less cultvired, and used idioms which at once evinced the 
 earnestness and independence, the mental force and acumen 
 of these toiling millions. 
 
 Then there were the slaves. Grafting the half-acquired Eng- 
 lish on the peculiarities of their native tongues, and following 
 the natural bent of their vocal organs, they had in the genera- 
 tions of slavery developed a dialect peculiarly their own. This 
 dialect is all the more interesting because it is passing away. 
 Just as the old-time darkey is soon to become extinct, so his 
 speech will shortly be heard no more. And this is true of all 
 the phases of society which existed in the South before the war. 
 The upheaval has been so complete that the old life is now a 
 memory, and will soon belong to tradition. To aid in rescuing 
 this life from oblivion the writer hopes is not the chief merit 
 of this volume. The rendering of the dialects, both of the 
 blacks and of the " po' white trash," as well as the representa- 
 tion of the manners and thoughts of the generation gone, or 
 rapidly passing, he hopes will be accorded the charm of useful- 
 ness. As a Southerner " to the manner born," and having lived 
 among the characters represented, he claims the right to speak. 
 But beyond this he hopes the book, on account of its contents, 
 will be found worthy of perusal. W. S, H. 
 
 Starkville, Miss. 
 
 602947 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/samwilliamstaleoOOharr 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter I. Page 
 
 The First Important Event 7 
 
 Chapter II. 
 The Budding Period i6 
 
 Chapter III. 
 The Home 21 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 Our Neighbors 28 
 
 Chapter V. 
 In the Quarters 32 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 In the Fields 37 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 At the Meeting 44 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 In the Kitchen 52 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 Care of the Sick 60 
 
 Chapter X. 
 The Funeral 67 
 
 Chapter XI. 
 Attending Church 72 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 On a Visit 80 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 In Louisiana 89 
 
 Chapter XIV 
 Going to School 96 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 Prosperity 105 
 
 Chapter XVI. 
 Still at School iii 
 
 (5) 
 
6 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 Chapter XVII. Page 
 
 Vacation 120 
 
 Chapter XVIII. 
 Mr. "Wilson 129 
 
 Chapter XIX. 
 Plum Creek Church 134 
 
 Chapter XX. 
 Our Vacation Ends 143 
 
 Chapter XXI. 
 Off for College 152 
 
 Chapter XXII. 
 In College 161 
 
 Chapter XXIII. 
 War 169 
 
 Chapter XXIV. 
 A Soldier 179 
 
 Chapter XXV. 
 Fighting 188 
 
 Chapter XXVI. 
 The Cave of Futurity 202 
 
 Chapter XXVII. 
 The Strange Country 214 
 
 Chapter XXVIII. 
 The Strange City 226 
 
 Chapter XXIX. 
 Strange Customs 239 
 
 Chapter XXX. 
 Strange Improvements 250 
 
 Chapter XXXI. 
 Aspiring to Authorship 261 
 
 Chapter XXXII. 
 The Return 272 
 
 Chapter XXXIII. 
 The Consummation 285 
 
 Chapter XXXIV. 
 Conclusion 298 
 
SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 The First Important Event. 
 
 THE first if not the most important event in ev- 
 ery life is to be born. Whether or not that 
 event is important depends on what follows. I 
 am sure that in many cases the credit side of the 
 world's balance sheet, representing the sum of 
 human happiness, would have been larger if that 
 part of the life had been entirely omitted. 
 
 The wisdom of this remark finds proof in the 
 large number of suicides, in the wrecks of life, 
 and in the wrecking wish so often expressed, and 
 always with a deep sigh: "O that I had never 
 been born ! " You see I am only rising to confirm 
 the opinion of those most immediately interested. 
 But what per cent, of human lives stands respect- 
 ively on the debit and credit sides of the world's 
 ledger I am not prepared to say. 
 
 But whether for good or ill, I was born. I can 
 hardly plead the verity of an eyewitness, but I 
 am positively certain of the fact. If the occasion 
 
 (7) 
 
8 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 made any impression whatever on memory's tab- 
 let, the vital forces have so far failed to bring it to 
 the recognition of consciousness. The evidence 
 to my own mind was a thing of growth. As the 
 years passed by it dawned upon me as the shadow 
 of a great reality. But the first clear statement of 
 fact was made to me by mammy. 
 
 The reader, whether gentle or otherwise, will 
 bear in mind that I do not now refer to my mother. 
 Mother was white; mammy was black. Mother 
 taught me propriety and good manners; mammy 
 laughed at my whims and inflated my vanity. 
 Mother insisted that my face and hands should be 
 washed, at least occasionally; mammy permitted 
 me to play in the mud, and taught me how to make 
 pots and pies of that material. Mother had me 
 placed at the table in a tall armchair, with bib and 
 napkin properly arranged, and fed on food suited 
 to my age and station; mammy took me to the 
 kitchen and allowed me to fish corn dumplings out 
 of the pot and drink pot liquor out of the ladle. 
 Mother tried to make me respectable; mammy 
 made me happy. Mother wanted me to be wise ; 
 mammy thought I was already so. I had great re-, 
 spect for mother, and great love for mammy. 
 
 In that early period of my life mammy was to 
 me an important personage. She was about five 
 feet high and about three feet through. Her broad, 
 woolly head sat far back on a splendid bust, and 
 was ready to carry anything, from a pail of water 
 to a basket of vegetables. Her fat, jolly face was 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 9 
 
 the very home of good humor, and wore in its nat- 
 ural attitude the breaking movements of a half- 
 born smile. Her little black eyes constantly 
 twinkled with good nature. 
 
 Mammy's most important business in life was to 
 look after " ole missus's chillerns." As I was the 
 last of the tribe, she had nearly outlived her occu- 
 pation, and seemed to have no regrets in the mat- 
 ter. She enjoyed a monopoly of the business, and 
 as the perquisites of the office remained the same, 
 she had no reason to complain of the decline of 
 the work. 
 
 Our relation was one of mutual influence, each 
 half commanding and half obeying. It is so de- 
 lightful to yield to a power that will always bend 
 at least halfway to our own wishes. She was in 
 the lead, but was oftener led. We were like bi- 
 nary stars revolving round each other. She was 
 my first interpreter, and my infant mind unfolded 
 to the simple ideas so delightfully seasoned with 
 unfailing good nature and constant appreciation. 
 
 Besides keeping me somewhat in the bounds of 
 reason, mammy gathered vegetables for the kitch- 
 en, and assisted Aunt Daphne, the cook, on spe- 
 cial occasions, and lent a helping hand about the 
 housekeeping. 
 
 There was one occasion on which mammy al- 
 ways came to the front in fine feather. That was 
 hog-killing time. Mammy was the commanding 
 genius when it came to saving the lard. Whole 
 troops of women were at hand to do the work, 
 
lO SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 but mammy did the commanding! A general 
 hog-killing called for the suspension of all other 
 work. All hands up and astir long before day! 
 How the fire roared in the frosty air ! How the 
 darkies moved! It was, in fact, a moving time. 
 A hundred and fifty hogs at a killing was not un- 
 usual, and the work was fairly under way by day- 
 light. The man with the ax, from long experi- 
 ence, was expert. He of the knife never failed. 
 How the men handled the nimble porkers ! 
 
 Uncle Mike was supreme at the scalding vat. 
 With two or three assistants, the work went rapid- 
 ly on. As soon as he pronounced it "good," the 
 hog was heaved from the vat out on the long plat- 
 form of rails, and then a half dozen black hands 
 snatched the loosened hair. The porker was kept 
 moving down the " run," to make way for others; 
 and by the time he reached the lower end, the hair 
 was off, and he was ready for the gambrel stick. 
 One by one the dressed carcasses were suspended 
 on long poles. It was a high day for me. How 
 I reveled among the busy throng ! What blowing 
 up of bladders ! For days I sniffed the odor of 
 cooking lard and fresh meat, till for once I had 
 enough of the kitchen. 
 
 Another important duty for mammy was to make 
 up the family soap in the spring. This she did 
 admirably, provided she could get the moon in 
 proper position ; and provided, also, she could pro- 
 cure a good sassafras stick with which to stir. 
 There was another considerable trouble with which 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. II 
 
 she had to contend, and that was to keep the ur- 
 chins from stirring the pot the wrong way. That 
 was stirring it back to lye. 
 
 That is what a party leader in Congress does 
 when he applies the party lash to the members of 
 the House for having, through mistake, voted for 
 some good measure contrary to party principles. 
 The little negro was apt to catch a flogging for 
 such backwardness, but the Congressman often 
 owes his reelection to roundabout practices. But 
 my business is with mammy, and not with the Con- 
 gressman. 
 
 Whenever she could manage to get all the con- 
 ditions in line, and somehow she generally suc- 
 ceed in that, she always turned out a good supply 
 of soap. 
 
 While engaged in this very important domestic 
 industry one beautiful spring day, and while hold- 
 ing up the sassafras stick to see the hot fluid drip 
 off in order to judge of its consistency, it was in 
 answer to a childish question which mammy 
 thought was very smart, and which, in her estima- 
 tion, indicated future greatness, that she exclaimed : 
 "Law, yes, hunny, you was borned; I minds it 
 well. Hit was jest ten years arter the stars fell." 
 
 Mammy was in the habit of dating events from 
 the time the stars fell. The intelligent reader, if 
 any such should ever chance to read these pages, 
 will remember that the great shower of meteors 
 occurred in 1833, and this will give sufficient inti- 
 mation as to the time 1 first saw the light. 
 
12 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 The event here recorded, viewed latitudinally, 
 is of very httle importance ; but longitudinally it is 
 worthy of the very first consideration. The latitu- 
 dinal view is that which sends out rays of relation 
 on each side, and has reference to all events of 
 simultaneous history. In this view, the birth of 
 a child, as it is but one of thousands of such events 
 taking place every day, is rarely of sufficient im- 
 portance for any record whatever. 
 
 But viewed longitudinally — that is, running along 
 the thread of my own life — it is, for me at least, of 
 the very first moment. It is of such magnitude that 
 it could occur but once. The wise saying that his- 
 tory repeats itself probably does not refer to biog- 
 raphy. It evidently does not apply in this case. 
 
 From the foregoing remarks it will be seen that 
 human life is comparable to a journey from the 
 equator toward the pole, from the flowery tropic 
 of childhood to the chilly regions of old age and 
 death. "Jest ten years arter de stars fell" I 
 started on this momentous journey. 
 
 I was the youngest of the children. My oldest 
 brother, having married, was living some miles 
 away. My oldest sister was the wife of a planter, 
 and lived in another state. I found many advan- 
 tages in bringing up the rear of the family. I 
 loved to be petted, and much of this fell to me in 
 consequence of my position in the household. I 
 loved liberty. Father and mother, as is often the 
 case, had, as age advanced, become more lenient 
 both to children and servants. In consequence, 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 3 
 
 many privileges came to me that would have been 
 denied to an older son. Whether such indulgence 
 was at the expense of the bone and sinew of char- 
 acter I cannot say. It was certainly very pleas- 
 ant, and, so far as I know, the sweets of life have 
 come about as readily to me as to those better dis- 
 ciplined. 
 
 The burden of this chapter is worthy of some 
 reflection. I sometimes think the fact here re- 
 corded is the most surprising part of the history 
 to be written. Not so strange, perhaps, that peo- 
 ple should be born, but marvelously so that I 
 should have emerged into individual conscious- 
 ness and separate activity. A failure in any sin- 
 gle link in the long chain of events from the be- 
 ginning of the world, and may be for endless cy- 
 cles before that, would have resulted in my non- 
 existence. Millions of people might have been 
 born, but not I. When there are so many millions 
 of chances against the occurrence of an event, and 
 only one chance out of all the millions for it to 
 happen, is it not strange, wonderfully strange, 
 that it should ever come to pass? I am therefore 
 astonished that I was born. 
 
 Our earthly existence is a mystery. "Of the 
 earth earthy, " we are built of very common ma- 
 terials, such as are found in rocks, in water, in 
 plants, in mud, and dust. Yet we are none of 
 these. Here are the ethereal elements of mind; 
 the strange thinking faculty, the capacity of link- 
 ing thought to thought and fact to fact, making a 
 
14 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 chain of convictions that no power can break. 
 Then here is the light, fantastic, the boundlessly 
 soaring, the endlessly combining faculty of imagi- 
 nation. Then back of all this is the wonderful 
 will power strangely hedged in beyond the reach 
 of physical force. These splendid faculties are 
 constantly fed by the earth, and yet are immeas- 
 urably superior to earth's dull activities. 
 
 Nature has given to the different things suitable 
 length of tether. The plant rooted in the soil is 
 intensely local in its dependence. The animal is 
 more at large, roaming about in search of food, 
 and may change his habitat as the conditions of 
 life may require. The animal man is still more 
 independent, as he can prepare and transport his 
 sustenance with him, and is thus able to traverse 
 the great Sahara, the trackless ocean, and even to 
 navigate the air. He claims the whole earth and 
 the fullness thereof as his own abode, and occu- 
 pies the different apartments at pleasure. 
 
 But the mind has a still larger range ; its tether 
 is immeasurably extended, so that it gathers food 
 from afar. It unwraps the covering from around 
 the most obscure secrets of nature; it weaves 
 into the web of poesy the beautiful images of 
 manifold being; it makes the impressible atmos- 
 phere resonant with the grandest harmonies of 
 music ; it analyzes the materials of the great lumi- 
 nary of the heavens by day, and then walks forth 
 among the stars by night, the appreciative observ- 
 er in the remote depths of space. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I5 
 
 Thus is man anchored to the earth, yet lives in 
 all the realm of nature's wide domain. What 
 means this fetter and this freedom? Will the 
 great earth which feeds these faculties claim them 
 as his own and draw them back to himself? or 
 does nature give us such length of strand to en- 
 courage the hope and faith that she will finally cut 
 the earthly tie and let us live apart forever? Are 
 not our very best faculties more than earth can 
 give? Then should not Heaven claim his own? 
 
 We are all hastening to solve these problems, 
 each for himself in the destiny of his own being. 
 These considerations make life momentous. Man 
 is such a wonderful being that the story of any life 
 must be of thrilling interest. The waking desires, 
 the rise of aspirations, the birth and growth of 
 hope, the genesis and development of love, to- 
 gether with the ripe fruition of life, are themes 
 worthy of any tongue or pen. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 The Budding Period. 
 
 EVERY boy has a budding season. He buds 
 ideas, oddities, and mischief. From this trin- 
 ity of resources the character of the future man 
 is to be produced. If ideas prevail, the boy devel- 
 ops into a wise man; if oddities, he becomes an 
 eccentric man; if mischief, then comes the disa- 
 greeable man. If ideas and oddities are both 
 strongly developed, we have a strong, angular 
 man, a man of sharp corners, apt to be conscien- 
 tious, and always forceful. If ideas and mischief 
 blend together in large proportions, we have the 
 dangerous man, the revolutionist, or the sharper. 
 If oddities and mischief make up the man, they 
 turn out the scoundrel or the scapegrace. 
 
 The boy makes the man as surely as the tadpole 
 makes the frog, and the making is well or ill ac- 
 cording to the materials used in the construction. 
 
 I suppose I was about an average boy, as these 
 qualities were developed in me in about equal pro- 
 portions. All these attributes were indicated by 
 the number, variety, and absurdity of questions. 
 My inquisitiveness levied tribute upon the patience 
 of everj^body in reach. 
 
 A boy thus constituted becomes a veritable, liv- 
 ing interrogation point. The very crook of his 
 (16) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 7 
 
 finger is suggestive of that punctuation character. 
 And when he is lying flat of his back on the car- 
 pet, with his feet waving in the air, he looks like 
 an interrogation point which has fallen down to 
 laugh at the absurdity of his own questions. 
 
 Good health, perfect digestion, and complete as- 
 similation, in a boy, are wonderfully productive of 
 questions. Beef, pork, mutton, chicken, biscuit, 
 butter, molasses, and almost anything else, turn 
 out a large supply. A healthy, growing boy will 
 ask more questions in a day than a dozen query 
 editors of our great papers could answer in a 
 week. 
 
 The questions in my case pertained to every de- 
 partment of life and every secret of nature. They 
 were especially noted for frequency, persistency, 
 and audacity. To worry, to puzzle, or to embar- 
 rass somebody seemed to be the chief concern of 
 life at that period. I could always worry mother, 
 and generally puzzle mammy, and sometimes em- 
 barrass Will Benson, my sister Mary's lover. In 
 asking these questions I was perform.ing the true 
 functions of a boy's life, growing in body and 
 mind, and having a good time. Mammy used to 
 say that I was then " eating my white bread," by 
 which she meant that I was having the happiest 
 time of my life. 
 
 This sage remark of mammy's, so often repeated 
 
 about the white bread, was always a puzzle to me. 
 
 I had never seen any other than white bread, and 
 
 why the eating of that should be a symbol of good 
 
 2 
 
l8 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 times was what I could not understand. In latter 
 life I have concluded that the phrase originated at 
 the time when white or sifted flour had not yet 
 come into general use, but was the food of only 
 the favored few. To be able to eat white bread 
 was then the evidence of superior condition in 
 life. 
 
 But the idea conveyed that I was then seeing 
 my best days was also a puzzle. To my mind 
 nearly everything good was in the future. While 
 I had everything necessary to my comfort, still it 
 was a period of unrest. I was too eager to get on- 
 ward to permit intense enjoyment of the present. 
 It is always so with youth. The dim figure of 
 prophecy marches ever before the young. The 
 pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by 
 night are always to the front. The grand endeav- 
 or, the brilliant achievement, the successful life 
 are all in the future. The manliness of independ- 
 ence, the joys of love, and the rewards of bravery 
 sparkle like scintillations of hope along the paths 
 trodden by the young. Those who walk forth 
 amid the roses still fresh with the dews of life's 
 early morning are always looking to the brighter 
 and richer joys of the midday splendor. To them 
 the garden of Eden is still in the future. 
 
 When we reach the borders of age, we are apt 
 to find that our Eden has shifted to the past. In- 
 stead of anticipation we have reverie ; memory in- 
 stead of hope. Thus it is ever the same in every 
 age: " the young men see visions and the old men 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I9 
 
 dream dreams." If the genius ever comes to give 
 to the world by chisel or brush the true ideal of 
 youth, it will be a figure of manly beauty, young 
 in years, bending forward in the attitude of rapid 
 walk, with vigorous energy in the step, the coun- 
 tenance lighted with a smile of hope, and the eyes 
 beaming with intense desire, as they peer into the 
 uncertain future. 
 
 Surely the hopes of youth are not all, and al- 
 ways, futile. The bright visions are not all delu- 
 sions. There is no good reason why the bud 
 should be sweeter than the fruit, unless the fruit 
 is of the bitter kind. Surely it is the pessimistic 
 view of life to regard childhood as its best or hap- 
 piest stage. It is only in lives that are failures 
 that this is true. Men in the haunts of vice, or in 
 the penal cells of confinement, may well sigh for 
 a return to the innocence of youth. The man who 
 meets the demands of life bravely and performs 
 his duties faithfully has no occasion to wish to go 
 a second time over the pains and sorrows of the 
 past. After mature deliberation I conclude that 
 for once mammy was mistaken. Those were not 
 my best days. 
 
 One very annoying trouble I had in my early 
 days was that mother insisted on putting me to my 
 book. It was not books in those days, but book. 
 Noah Webster's blue-back speller was the rack on 
 which every child's pleasure had to be tortured. 
 It seemed to me that every time I became particu- 
 larly interested in play mother or sister would call 
 
20 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 out: "Sammy, come say your lesson." Mother 
 said that she wanted no boobies in her family, and 
 would hear no excuse. Thus early she began my 
 education — that is, she began to round off the 
 oddities, suppress the mischief, and develop the 
 ideas. As the young ideas began to shoot, she 
 began to train them through the trellised letters of 
 the old speller. These branches in time became 
 stout and self-sustaining, but needed support at first. 
 The tree of knowledge grows all the more straight 
 and comely because of proper training. Such a 
 tree will sometimes grow wonderfully strong and 
 towering, without apparent help, but is apt to be 
 rugged and crooked. The man of well-rounded 
 intellect, correctly poised in moral strength, who 
 is able to stand forth as a successful champion of 
 the right, is apt to be the man whose early train- 
 ing has not been neglected, and who shows in the 
 lineaments of his intellectual character the unmis- 
 takable traces of a mother's hallowed influence. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 The Home. 
 
 THE greatest blessing of childhood is to have a 
 home. Not simply a place to stay, a locality 
 where he may grow in stature, and perhaps in 
 wickedness, but a real home; a home where 
 parental authority guides, and where the graces of 
 virtue and wisdom preside; a home where love 
 reigns supreme, and molds the home manners; a 
 home where God is recognized, and duty is su- 
 preme, and pleasure is not forbidden; a home 
 from whose altar the incense of true worship daily 
 ascends to the great giver of life. Such homes are 
 the nurseries of the church and the bulwarks of 
 the state. Here the better instincts of life are de- 
 veloped, and %drtue and wisdom spring forth like 
 angels of peace to make the world better and 
 brighter. 
 
 If the home is in the country, all the better. 
 Then if this country home is in the South, all the 
 conditions are complete, and childhood's days are 
 bright indeed. Some of the sweetest recollections 
 of life cluster around the dear old country home in 
 the land of sun and flowers. Home ! the place 
 v/here the soul unbends and the mind grows calm; 
 the place where manhood puts on the armor for 
 the battles of life. No other spot can inspire such 
 
 C21) 
 
22 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 sentiments of devotion. No other place is half so 
 sweet with the fragrance of genial love. The love 
 of home is the taproot of patriotism, and from it 
 grows the grand old trunk of national independ- 
 ence. 
 
 Those were sunny days : the days of youth on a 
 Southern plantation. Surely no other land could 
 be so productive of reverie and daydreams. What 
 delightful pictures pass in bright procession through 
 the halls of memory as the scenes of childhood 
 come afresh from the stores of the past ! 
 
 " The First Steps in Geography " with me was 
 to become acquainted with my father's plantation. 
 It was such a delightful study that I must tell the 
 reader its important features. The house sat far 
 back from the road in the midst of grand old for- 
 est trees. I am grateful even yet to the original 
 settlers for leaving about forty acres of woodland 
 not to be encroached upon by the ever greedy cot- 
 ton fields. Through the center of this woodland 
 a wide avenue led from the large gate on the road 
 to the house. The trees, shrubs, and vines of this 
 forest were of nature's own planting. Here were 
 deep shades and tangled masses interspersed with 
 more open spaces, as we are apt to find in wild 
 forest growths. 
 
 Around the borders of this wood in the early 
 spring the little meadow blue-bells sprinkled the 
 green earth with tiny gems of beauty. Ever}^- 
 where, even in the deeper shades, the violets grew 
 in great profusion. Other flowers in succession. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 23 
 
 as the season advanced, lent beauty to the scenes. 
 In their season the white blooms of the dogwoods, 
 the red ones of the red buds, and the yellow ones 
 of the poplars were objects of special admiration. 
 When the linden trees were in bloom, they gave not 
 only beauty to the scenery, but a rich fragrance to 
 the atmosphere. They attracted the honey bees 
 in such numbers as to produce a constant hum, 
 like a swarm of bees passing through the air. 
 
 Animated nature added charms to this wood. 
 There squirrels lived and rabbits hid. Coveys of 
 partridges found retreat in the underbrush, and the 
 limbs of the trees were often loaded with black- 
 birds. Little wrens and bluebirds sported along 
 the ground. Gay redbirds and beautiful robins 
 played among the foliage. The soft cooing of the 
 dove and the harsh voice of the blue jay mingled in 
 strange contrast. All bird notes were heard, from 
 the sweet, variable songs of the mocking bird to the 
 cawing of the crow. Many a time, while the bright 
 sun peeped down through the leaves and the soft 
 breezes of the south fanned the cheeks of nature, 
 I have for hours lolled on some grassy knoll watch- 
 ing the birds in their loves and the fiov/ers in their 
 beauty. 
 
 The avenue from the gate to the house was nearly 
 level. Off to the left, as we approached the dwell- 
 ing, the land was gently undulating, while to the 
 right it broke into deep hollows. Near the corner 
 of the v/oodland, in one of these hollows, a cool 
 spring flowed out from under the bluff. The spring 
 
24 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 was several hundred yards from the house, but not 
 so far from the quarters. 
 
 Our dwelHng had been built with a view to com- 
 fort in the Southern clime. It had broad halls and 
 spacious verandas, where the cool breezes made 
 leisure delightful. The spacious yard abounded 
 in shrubbery and flowers; the rich garden teemed 
 with vegetables; the outhouses were many and 
 convenient ; the quarters, the rows of white houses, 
 with street between, where the servants lived, were 
 located a convenient distance from " de big house," 
 Vv'hile near by were the lots and barns for the care 
 of mules and other stock. 
 
 In the rear of the buildings the broad fields ex- 
 tended for more than a mile. The cultivated land 
 was gently undulating, thus giving proper drainage 
 and a pleasing variety as to elevation. A broad 
 valley ran through, giving richness and beauty to 
 the farm. It looked as if the broad waves of some 
 mighty ocean had been suddenly arrested in their 
 action and hardened into sohd ground. The large 
 fields of cotton and smaller ones of corn in sum- 
 mer presented a pleasing variety of living green. 
 In autumn the cotton fields were white with open 
 bolls. The fleecy rows looked like banks of snow 
 in underbrush. 
 
 Such was the home of my childhood; a home 
 to memory dear, and made dearer still because of 
 a fact which very early came with peculiar force to 
 my consciousness. That fact is germane to the 
 truth of this history. It was the existence of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 25 
 
 another home nearby. Just beyond the woodland, 
 and almost in front of the big gate on the road at 
 the terminus of the avenue, in a grove not so large 
 as ours, was the home of Mr. Brantlett. His 
 daughter Susie was just two years younger than 
 I. The Brantletts were our friends. The rela- 
 tions between us were never strained. We inter- 
 changed visits informally, and our intercourse was 
 always cordial. 
 
 To my childish imagination the bright Southern 
 sun became several degrees brighter on the days 
 when Mrs. Brantlett came over to spend the day 
 and brought Susie, as was always her custom. I 
 remember well one such day. It was a perfect 
 day in early summer. With delight and tender 
 care I led the way to the most cherished retreats 
 in the forest. Here were mossy banks and there 
 were wild flowers; here the dense, cool shade, 
 there the grapevine swing. With leafy bowers we 
 constructed playhouses, floored them with moss, 
 and decorated them with flowers. Let Burns talk 
 about "the golden hours on angels' wings;" I 
 had my angel with me, and took no note of the fly- 
 ing hours nor the texture of their wings. 
 
 The spirit of prophecy often hovers about each 
 life. Sometimes with grim visage, lurking in the 
 shadows, crying, "Woe, woe;" and sometimes 
 with the radiance of hope, whispering, " Peace, 
 peace." Hence it sometimes happens, we know 
 not why, that our brightest days have a semblance 
 of a shadow and a tinge of sadness. Sometimes 
 
26 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 our joy is intensified by the subtle presence of a 
 delightful forecast. So it was with me. Some 
 sweet angel's finger was toying with my spirit's 
 happiness and painting the riper joys on the far-off 
 horizon of the future. 
 
 But hours, however golden, will, after awhile, 
 bring us around face to face with some of our oft 
 returning wants. To us they brought intense 
 thirst. This, of course, suggested a trip to the 
 spring. With what joy I assisted Susie down the 
 steep declivity, while the air grew refreshingly 
 cooler as we descended ! 
 
 From the " time to which memory runs not 
 back" a stake stuck in the ground had held a 
 crooked-handle gourd by that spring. With what 
 simple gallantry I took the gourd and handed water 
 to Susie ! Her unfeigned relish for the cool bev- 
 erage made me glad. The deliciousness of the 
 water from that gourd ! it refreshes my memory 
 still. 
 
 We always had special orders not to play in the 
 spring branch. As usual, that which was forbidden 
 was powerfully tempting. I cannot say we were 
 entirely exemplary. We lingered too long in the 
 atmosphere of enticement. Among the vivid pic- 
 tures of those early days, preserved on memory's 
 scroll, none are more vivid than those of Susie's 
 little hands playing in the clear, cold water, or her 
 little, disobedient feet wading in the spring branch. 
 But our transgressions were cut short by mammy's 
 watchful eye. We could depend on mammy to 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 27 
 
 keep our secret and to make us presentable at the 
 " big house," so that " ole missus" would know 
 nothing of our playing in the water. Up the steep 
 ascent, a narrow path, worn deep by many footsteps, 
 led us out of the deep ravine. The air was sensi- 
 bly warmer as we ascended from the cool water. 
 We returned home as demurely as if no temptation 
 had befallen us. But Susie was too conscientious 
 for concealment. A tearful repentance, an honest 
 confession, and a vow of obedience in the future 
 put an end to our disobedient wading in the water. 
 But I must confess that it was hard for me to see 
 the harm in a transgression so delightful. 'Tis 
 always so ; sin comes with oiled point so smooth 
 that the sting at first gives only a sensation of 
 pleasure. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 Our Neighbors. 
 
 AS I grew older the boundaries of my geograph- 
 ical knowledge extended. In all directions 
 from our home, except north, there were farms 
 like our own. These were joined by others, so 
 that for many miles there was a succession of 
 highly cultivated fields, with intervening reserva- 
 tions of woodland. About a mile and a half south 
 of us, in a lovely grove, was situated Conway 
 Chapel, the church we attended. About halfway 
 between our home and the church was the neat 
 little academy where the young ideas of the neigh- 
 borhood were woven into the web of culture. 
 
 Maj. Allen lived southeast of us on his large 
 plantation. He had two sons, Ben and Joe. They 
 were playmates of mine. Their little sister Minnie 
 was about the age of Susie Brantlett. South, be- 
 tween our house and the academy, lived Maj. 
 Jones. He was a man of excellent culture, and 
 this, in some degree, made up for the smallness of 
 his farm. He worked only about a dozen hands. 
 Southwest lay the magnificent home of Col. Park- 
 er. He worked more hands than any other man 
 in the settlement, and was therefore much respect- 
 ed, and his friendship greatly prized. His only 
 son, Adolphus, was a well-grown, fine-looking boy, 
 (28) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 29 
 
 and rather overbearing. He moved about among 
 us boys with the conscious air of great possessions. 
 West was the plantation of 'Squire Benson, whose 
 hopeful son Will was a frequent and not unwel- 
 come visitor at our house. East, just beyond the 
 woodland, as I have before noticed, was the pleas- 
 ant Httle home of Mr. Brantlett. Beyond that, 
 old Mr. Webb lived on his large estate. The chil- 
 dren were all married and settled in homes of their 
 own. The old people lived in the old homestead 
 in great peace, and greatly respected by all their 
 neighbors. These were our nearest neighbors. 
 Except Mr. Webb's, their plantations joined ours. 
 We were people similarly situated in life, and of 
 similar tastes, and therefore we were congenial 
 and friendly. Our parents visited each other oft- 
 en, and we children were frequently together. 
 
 Of course our acquaintance and our neighborly 
 friendships extended further. There were the 
 Smiths, Murphys, Browns, Bufords, Conways, 
 and others. We frequently met these more dis- 
 tant neighbors at church and elsewhere. We oc- 
 casionally visited each other, and thus maintained 
 friendly relations. But the families to whom I 
 have specially referred were our intimate friends. 
 
 North of us was a stretch of hill country, unsuit- 
 ed for large farms. Ours was frequently spoken 
 of as a " border plantation." I very early had a 
 desire to know something of that hill country. 
 One pleasant day in winter I received permission 
 to take two negro boys and go rabbit hunting. I 
 
30 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 called up Dick and Jake, who responded with alac- 
 rity. As soon as they learned that a rabbit hunt 
 was on the tapis they began to yell for the dogs. 
 There was no scarcity of this article on our place. 
 Nearly every negro had his dog. Here they came, 
 " mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, and curs of 
 low degree." "Tray, Blanche, Sweetheart, the 
 little dogs and all," all ready for the fray. With 
 dogs yelping and jumping, and boys in high glee, 
 we made toward the hills. Passing the quarters, 
 we encountered a group of small darkies. One lit- 
 tle kinky-headed fellow, grinning out of a round, 
 black face, ventured the question: " Whar's y'all 
 gwine?" Each one of them in succession repeat- 
 ed the very same question: "Whar's y'all gwine?" 
 
 Dick, showing his white teeth, acted as spokes- 
 man for the hunters: " Us's gwine ter ketch a 
 Molly cottontail." This was his name for rabbit. 
 
 We rambled over the hills chasing "bar's," as 
 some of the negroes called them, until we were 
 more than a mile from home. Dick and Jake 
 each sported a " Molly cottontail.' 
 
 From a lofty eminence we looked down a long 
 hollow and plainly saw a house. It was a double 
 log house, or perhaps it would be more properly 
 classed as a comfortable cabin. In the narrow 
 valley beyond was a small field cramped in be- 
 tween the hills. White people were passing about. 
 
 " Dem's not our sort o' folks," said Dick. 
 
 "Dat fiel' ain't no bigger'n a turnip patch," re- 
 plied Jake. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 3I 
 
 We at once became explorers. Guided by the 
 sound of an ax, we soon came in sight of a white 
 man cutting wood. A white boy was piHng the 
 brush and otherwise helping. The boy was about 
 my age. We judged them to be father and son. 
 They wore coarse clothes, and were evidently used 
 to work. 
 
 This was all a revelation to me. I had never 
 heard of these neighbors of ours. Then it was so 
 strange to find them doing work that I had seen 
 colored men do. The man and the boy looked at 
 us kindly enough, and I think would have spoken 
 to us if we had not been so shy. 
 
 That night, after we returned home I asked 
 mammy about these people. 
 
 " O dem's po' white trash," she said, " moved 
 in down dar; you's mighty wrong, hunny, to go 
 dat fur f'um home, an' 'mung dem folks." 
 
 This was not very satisfactory. Next morning 
 I hunted up Uncle George, the carriage driver, and 
 inquired of him. 
 
 " Hit's dat feller Henderson I 'spects you seed, 
 sunny," said the old darky kindly. " Heap o' 
 dem po' white folks live over on Plum Creek." 
 
 So we had new neighbors. I determined as 
 opportunity offered to find out more about them. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 In the Quarters. 
 
 NEVER was a boy raised on a large plantation 
 in the South who did not love to revel in the 
 quarters. The reader will understand that this is 
 the name universally applied to the village where 
 the servants lived. A boy reached his utmost im- 
 portance down in the quarters. Smiles and kind 
 words greeted him everywhere. He was " hun- 
 ny," "sunny," or *' young massa," was at full 
 liberty to bound into any cabin unannounced and 
 unceremoniously, and was everywhere welcomed 
 and flattered. The old servants loved to put their 
 hands upon him, or their arms around him, and 
 tell how much he " favored ole massa," or " Mas' 
 George" or "Mas' Charlie," alluding to his un- 
 cles or older brothers. The young servants were 
 always ready for a romp " wid young massa." 
 
 The most delightful time to study the negro 
 character in the quarters was in autumn by moon- 
 light. The evenings were long, the weather brac- 
 ing, and life was at full tide. Of course mammy 
 was expected to keep watch over me; but mammy 
 was as fond of the freedom of the quarters after 
 the busy rush of the day was over as was her 
 charge. Then where could I be safer than 
 among her own people? Mammy usually settled 
 (32) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 33 
 
 down in a comfortable corner with Aunt Sally or 
 Aunt 'Lindy for a season of quiet repose, amid 
 whiffs of tobacco smoke and plantation gossip, 
 while I romped around with the "young fry" 
 from one cabin to another with great hilarity. 
 
 One such visit I now recall, and will describe. 
 I had not more than reached the grounds and 
 sniffed the signs of fun, when a great commotion 
 in the lower part of the quarters attracted my at- 
 tention. I heard pious Aunt Lizzie say: "Long 
 Jim is sarvin' de debel, an' leadin' dem young nig- 
 gers to 'struction." This was probably meant as 
 a warning. But for me it was more than an invi- 
 tation. It lent speed to my feet. 
 
 Sure enough, Long Jim had out his fiddle, and 
 its moving strains were fairly inspiring the devo- 
 tees of such music. He was surrounded by about 
 thirty negroes, male and female, mostly young, 
 all out in the bright moonshine. They were hav- 
 ing, as they expressed it, a regular " breakdown." 
 Such music, accompanied by such dancing! The 
 whole performance was a law unto itself. It was 
 hampered by no rules of art. It was above art. 
 It was genius. The music was like an all-pervad- 
 ing nerve center actuating every movement. Such 
 spirit, such energy, such exuberant life ! It was 
 the poetry of motion set to music. It was the 
 rhythmic riot of physical energy prancing in the 
 harness of delight. Among no other people in 
 any part of the world could such a scene have 
 been witnessed. The artificial dances practiced 
 3 
 
34 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 by the elite, as compared with this, are like the 
 faint echoes of the far-off reality. 
 
 Not far from this group was a much smaller one, 
 actuated by a similar spirit, as if it were a side- 
 show in the wake of a circus. Here was a man 
 sitting on the doorsteps of his cabin making music, 
 or at least keeping time, with two gourds by knock- 
 ing them together. Two boys were dancing. As 
 they danced, one sang, and both accorded their 
 motions to the words: 
 
 " Fust upon de heel tap, den upon, de toe, 
 An' eb'ry time I turn aroun' 
 I jump Jim Crow." 
 
 At the other end of the quarters another group 
 was gathered in and around the door of a cabin, 
 singing with a pathos which seemed to be born of 
 the recollections of long ago : 
 
 " O carry me back, O carry me back, 
 To ole Virginny's shore." 
 
 Right across the grounds a man or boy came 
 bounding along with a " hop, skip, and a jump," 
 and singing a solo as he went: 
 
 "Jenny crack corn, I don't keer, 
 Ole massa gone away." 
 
 In another part of the quarters a lot of boys 
 were turning somersaults, jumping fiat-footed, go- 
 ing half -hammered, making three jumps, running 
 and jumping, jumping backward, and otherwise 
 testing strength and skill. 
 
 Finally Long Jim's concert made a halt, proba- 
 bly for a rest before taking another heat. As if 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 35 
 
 moved by a common impulse, they struck up with 
 a full chorus of melodious voices: 
 
 " Way down upon de S'wanee Riber, 
 Far, far awaj, 
 Dar's whar my heart is turnin' eber, 
 Dar's whar de ole folks stay." 
 
 Especially when they reached the chorus there was 
 a swell of voices which was truly inspiring: 
 
 "All de worl' am sad an' dreary, 
 Eb'ry whar I roam ; 
 O brudder, how my heart grows weary, 
 Sighin' for de ole folks at home." 
 
 Why words which imply sadness and isolation 
 should be so much in favor Vv^ith people in such a 
 high tide of social life is a psychological problem 
 I leave the reader to solve. 
 
 In one of the cabins several men and women 
 were singing religious songs. One acted as lead- 
 er by chanting two lines of the hymn, and then all 
 joined in the singing. 
 
 All this time talking went on as if nothing else 
 was on hand. They always talked in loud tones, 
 with constant effort at wit and repartee, though of 
 course they knew nothing of these words. It was 
 no uncommon thing for conversation to be carried 
 on by persons on opposite sides of the street. 
 They had no disposition to talk in undertones. A 
 white man will walk fifty yards to talk in low tones 
 to a friend for two or three minutes, about the 
 most trivial matters, 'rather than put forth the ex- 
 ertion of his vocal organs to make himself under- 
 stood at that distance. He does this because it 
 
36 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 saves labor. Not so with the big-lunged and glib- 
 tongued slaves of the olden time. For them to 
 talk was not labor; it was rest and pastime. On 
 this moonlight night motion and noise had full 
 sway. 
 
 Passing by Uncle Ned's cabin, I saw that he 
 was holding family worship. If Long Jim was 
 "sarvin' de debil," not a few of these old negroes 
 were trying to serve the Lord. They were faith- 
 ful in their prayers and pious songs. No amount 
 of mirth in the quarters could interrupt their re- 
 ligious services. It was the general rule with the 
 negroes in their devotions to pray for " ole massa 
 an' ole missus" and all their family. 
 
 My associations with the servants in the quar- 
 ters were by no means all demoralizing. Noble 
 sentiments, spiritual aspirations, patient endurance, 
 lasting friendships, constant recognition of divine 
 Providence, and humble submission to the divine 
 order were prominent characteristics of many of 
 these truly pious old slaves. Their influence on 
 me was strong and durable. I was constantly im- 
 pressed with the thought that if slaves could have 
 noble qualities of manhood a freeman should have 
 more. Their religious fervor acted as a power- 
 fully conservative check on the waywardness of 
 young masters, I am inclined to think that their 
 influence was afterward felt in the religious tone 
 of the Confederate armies. " They have a genius 
 for religion, and may yet render the world impor- 
 tant service along this line. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 In the Fields . 
 
 THE cotton fields of the olden time were unique. 
 They were characteristic of the system then 
 regnant. They showed plainly the labor of many 
 hands directed by one mind. There was none of 
 the patchwork division peculiar to lands cultivated 
 by small, independent farmers. Each season had 
 its own peculiar labor, and all was of interest to 
 me. The broad fields gave ample range for my 
 boyish feet. The winters were so mild the men 
 could generally be out at work, and I was apt to 
 be out at something, probably chasing rabbits or 
 baiting traps for birds. Snow fell only occasion- 
 ally, and then soon melted away. The early part 
 of the winter and sometimes more was occupied in 
 picking cotton. It was always a great desire with 
 us to get the cotton out by Christmas. Then the 
 holidays were enjo3''ed with more zest. These 
 lasted one week, including Christmas, and end- 
 ing with the last day of the year. Then came 
 the time for opening ditches, repairing fences, 
 and clearing up land for a new crop. The 
 clearing up was done mostly by the "trash 
 gang." This was made up of women, young- 
 sters, and old men. The able-bodied men had 
 more robust labors. 
 
 (37) 
 
38 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 The "hands" enlivened their work by songs, 
 jokes, and laughter. In their bright, open faces 
 there was scarcely a trace of care. Their cheer- 
 fulness was ever an attraction for me. Whether 
 their jokes were stale or new, they never failed to 
 provoke mirth. These people had the happy fac- 
 ulty of laughing at their own fun. I never knew 
 one to make a repartee that he did not clinch it 
 with a laugh. Often when separated into squads, 
 working in different places, they would respond 
 to each other in song. The squads singing alter- 
 nate stanzas ; or one squad would do the singing, 
 while the others would reply in a kind of chorus. 
 They were a talking, working, singing race. The 
 seasons succeeded each other, bringing a variety 
 of labors, but their cheerfulness continued always 
 fresh. 
 
 Behind the "trash gang" came the plows, bed- 
 ding up the land into long ridges some three or 
 four feet wide. Afterward, when the dogwoods 
 were in bloom, the planting began. The seed 
 were hauled out in wagons and thrown in piles about 
 in the fields as they would be needed. The ridges 
 were opened with a very small plow and the seed 
 sown mostly by women and .boys. Each sower 
 had a sack in which the seed were carried. This 
 sack was suspended under the left arm, by a strap 
 over the right shoulder, after the manner of a 
 hunter's horn. The mouth of the sack was with- 
 in easy reach of the right hand. The seed were 
 sown in great profusion, often covering the whole 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 39 
 
 top of the ridge. A board or light harrow was 
 run over them, and thus the new crop was planted. 
 
 Soon after this came "cotton choppin' time," 
 universally recognized as a busy time, a time 
 when " Gineral Green " had to be conquered. 
 Then came the "trash gang" with hoes to the 
 front. The immense fields were cultivated like a 
 garden. I have romped over the soft loose soil 
 after " de secon' goin' ober," and could scarcely 
 find a sprig of grass. It was delightful to look 
 over the broad fields of undulating and varied 
 green. The corn and cotton were of different 
 shades, the corn being darker. Then each had 
 shades of its own. As a rule the crops on the 
 lowlands were darker than those on elevated posi- 
 tions. But the age of the crops, the degree of 
 moisture at the time each piece had been worked, 
 all tend to break the monotony of color, and give 
 a pleasing variety to the aspect of cultivated na- 
 ture. All the negroes look forward to a season 
 of relaxation or comparative rest after " layin' by 
 time." 
 
 All through the long summer days the cotton 
 was blooming. Conditions being favorable, the 
 fields looked white in the morning and crimson in 
 the evenings with the blooms. The cotton bloom 
 is the creature of a day. It is full blown early in 
 the morning, and is then a rich cream color; by 
 night it has turned to red. The next day it is 
 withered and a new set of blooms is undergoing 
 the same changes. Thus the cotton is making a 
 
40 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 new crop of bolls each day through the blooming 
 season. The bountifulness of the crop for the 
 year depends largely on the fortune that attends 
 the plant during the making season. 
 
 Early in the autumn, or rather while the sum- 
 mer yet Hngers, the busy picking season comes 
 on. At break of day the hands, each with a large 
 *' hamper basket," partially inverted and with the 
 edge resting upon his head, might be seen in long 
 single file making haste to the fields. This was 
 the busiest season of the year, and the meals were 
 usually sent to the fields to save time. As soon as 
 the hands were fairly under way with the picking, 
 the gins started. What a blessing Whitney con- 
 ferred on the world when he invented the cotton 
 gin ! The gins were a perpetual source of interest 
 to me. I remember with what delight I first caught 
 the idea as to how the brush wheel took the lint 
 from the saws. Then the big cotton press with its 
 long levers sweeping around in the air! I have 
 always been sorry that the famous Don Quixote 
 did not encounter one of these old-fashioned cot- 
 ton presses. It would have been a giant worthy 
 of his bravery. But he and Rocinante might have 
 fared badly, and poor Sancho would have had 
 fresh cause to lament. 
 
 The starting of the gins was the signal for the 
 wagons to take the road. In those days before 
 railroads the cotton had to be hauled some thirty 
 miles to the river. Three wagons were usually 
 put on the road. Each wagon had six large mules. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 4I 
 
 It was grand to see this wagon train put in trim, 
 with every convenience for traveling and camping 
 out. At least two mules in each team were deco- 
 rated with bells. Four or five small bells were 
 suspended from a brass bow which extended in a 
 semicircle above the withers, being attached to 
 the mule's harness. I never knew the use of the 
 bells, unless it was to keep the mules from being 
 frightened at unusual noises. But whether for 
 use or ornament, they were the pride and joy of 
 the wagoners. Jack was the chief wagoner, and 
 to him was intrusted the oversight of the whole 
 train. His was a position of trust and honor, and 
 he appreciated it most highly. Jack was of yellow 
 complexion, stout build, sinewy and muscular. In- 
 telligence was stamped on every feature. Never 
 did an engineer bound into his cab and lay his 
 hand on the lever with an air of more importance 
 than that with which Jack mounted his saddle 
 mule and drew the line over his leader. 
 
 Amid the jingle of bells and the flourish of 
 whips the wagons, each carrying six bales of cot- 
 ton, started for their destination. It was desira- 
 ble that the wagons from several plantations should 
 go together for mutual protection and help. The 
 return of the wagons was an event to be noted. 
 With what dignity Jack drove in his team and re- 
 ported to " ole massa!" Then what stores of 
 sugar, coffee, molasses, tea, mackerel, and some- 
 times oysters ! The wagon train was the connect- 
 ing link between us and the outside world. It 
 
42 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 brought tidings as well as good things from afar. 
 And Jack was chief of that train ! Jack was a 
 hero; he was a traveled man, and had seen the 
 world. He talked about the big river and its won- 
 derful mysteries, about fine steamboats and their 
 all-powerful captains. The young negroes on the 
 place looked to his position as the youths of 
 America look to the presidency: as the highest 
 position it is possible to reach. 
 
 Other industries were carried on which, though 
 not so promin^t, were, nevertheless, valuable. 
 Quite a number of women, from various causes, 
 did not go regularly to the fields. These did the 
 spinning, weaving, and sewing for the hands. 
 Thus the plantation was a community of itself. 
 The necessaries of life were raised or manufac- 
 tured. Few things needed to be bought. There 
 was very little extravagance, no dissipation, no 
 wasted energy among the members of the little 
 community. Good export crops were grown ev- 
 ery year. No wonder the signs of prosperity in- 
 creased on every hand. 
 
 As I remember those early days of simplicity 
 and constant work, they were days full of content- 
 ment and cheerfulness. On the return of the 
 wagons in the early fall, when, as a special favor, 
 some of the luxuries of life, such as sugar, coffee, 
 a larger ration of molasses, and sometimes (for we 
 were not yet wise on the temperance question) a 
 " leetle ob de critter to raise de sperits " were is- 
 sued to the hands, the quarters became scenes of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 43 
 
 unusual mirthfulness. Long Jim's concerts would 
 take on new proportions, but would even then* be 
 almost rivaled by squads of young bucks " patting 
 juber." This last exercise was one for a boy to 
 remember. They would pat themselves Vv'ith both 
 hands, frequently slapping their hands together, 
 making a rythmic sound to which others and some- 
 times the patters themselves would " trip the light 
 fantastic." 
 
 The amount of activity to be gotten out of this 
 performance was wonderful. When once fairly un- 
 der way, they would pat themselves from the shoul- 
 ders all the way down to the feet. Every muscle 
 was in lively exercise, even the tongue contribut- 
 ing to the effect: <' Juber dis an' juber dat, an' 
 juber killed de yaller cat." Thus in the absence 
 of all instruments the negro's love of music was 
 gratified. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 At the Meeting. 
 
 FATHER always insisted that the colored people 
 should have religious privileges. They always 
 enjoyed such privileges on our place. The mis- 
 sionary came round regularly every month. There 
 was always some colored exhorter or preacher to 
 hold meetings on the intervening Sabbaths. Serv- 
 ices were generally held in the afternoon. I fre- 
 quently went with mammy to these meetings. They 
 were never without interest. The simple and abid- 
 ing faith of these people seemed alv/ays to insure 
 the divine presence. They lived constantly on 
 that plane of humility where God most readily 
 touches humanity. Their prayers were direct ap- 
 peals to the ever present God. Sometimes their 
 exhortations had an unction born of a mighty faith. 
 Their songs were a benediction. Their shouting, 
 in which exercise they were not wanting, was as 
 the triumphs of Israel over his enemies. Their 
 spiritual enjoyment was born of a divine life in the 
 soul. 
 
 Father sometimes attended their meetings, and 
 they always did him the honor to call on him to 
 pray. This was generally at the close of the serv- 
 ices, for they seemed to think it indecorous to call 
 on "ole massa " to pray in the midst of confusion, 
 (44) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 45 
 
 and therefore waited till the emotional excitement 
 had mostly subsided. Father's prayers were short, 
 fervent, and adapted to the occasion. The next 
 morning after one of these services, I heard mother 
 ask Joe, the man who made fires and waited about 
 the house, what sort of meeting they had last night. 
 " O, mighty fine, missus, mighty fine," he said. 
 "We alius has a good time when John preaches 
 and I 'zorts and massa 'eludes meetin'." 
 
 But the great time with them was when the mis- 
 sionary came round. Then there was a general 
 turnout and more interest was manifested. There 
 were several of the more intelligent men, and I 
 mention Jack the wagoner as one of them, who did 
 not much care to listen to the home talent. They 
 wanted something better — wanted instruction. As 
 a natural result the home talent was not pleased 
 with them and held them in some degree of sus- 
 picion. The home preachers thought the cause 
 should "be sufficient inspiration, and to wait for the 
 missionary was to distrust God and take too much 
 to man. Thus it was among them as among all 
 people : intelligence looked for the means of feed- 
 ing intelligence, while ignorance became sore and 
 sensitive on account of supposed neglect. 
 
 Their worship was not of the silent sort. Cries 
 of " Dat's de truff," " Yes, Lord," " Hallelujah," 
 " Bless de Lord" were frequently heard from all 
 parts of the house, especially from " de amen 
 cornder. ' ' They had a peculiarity in their worship 
 I have never heard of among any other people. It 
 
46 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 was a sort of humming in rhythmic measure. No 
 words were spoken, but a semivocal sound was 
 prolonged into a tune in which large numbers 
 would join. This frequently ended in open shouts 
 and hallelujahs. 
 
 On all occasions they were ready to " speak out 
 in de meetin'." Uncle Sam was especially noted 
 in this regard — in fact, he was a noted character. 
 He was a stout old man, of great dignity of man- 
 ner and of excellent character. His white head 
 and massive features and solemn mien marked him 
 as a patriarch of the Church. He always occupied 
 a prominent seat near the pulpit. His outspoken 
 sanctions, comments, or observations were some- 
 times embarrassing, but most generally helpful to 
 the preacher. On one occasion the missionary 
 was dwelling with happy effect on the text, " They 
 desire a better country." He was describing that 
 country as fairer than anything mortal eyes had 
 ever beheld when Uncle Sam asked: " Brudder, 
 who lives in dat country? " The preacher at once 
 caught on a higher strain as he told of Abraham, 
 Isaac, and Jacob, of the prophets, apostles, and 
 martyrs, of the great company which no man could 
 number, of every nation and race, including our 
 own loved ones gone before, all living happily in 
 that blessed country. " What is all dese folks 
 doin' in dat country?" In response to this ques- 
 tion the preacher told how the people were resting 
 under the shade of the trees by the river of life ; 
 how they were shouting, singing, and praising 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 47 
 
 God ; how they wore the robes of white and waved 
 the palms of victory over sin and sorrow. " Is dat 
 a healthy country, brudder? " The preacher re- 
 plied: "No doctors in that country; nobody was 
 ever sick there. There never was a funeral in that 
 country, and never will be. Those who live there 
 will live forever." "Now, brudder, please tell 
 us," the old negro's lips quivered as he asked the 
 question, "Now, brudder, please tell us, can a 
 poor man what ain't got no money git a home in 
 dat country?" This question was too much for 
 the audience and almost upset the preacher. Feel- 
 ing had grown m.ore intense with each question and 
 answer. It now reached white heat. The preacher 
 could scarcely keep control of his congregation or 
 himself while he explained that homes were ob- 
 tained in that country without money and without 
 price. 
 
 The scene that follov/ed is not easily described. 
 It was one in which intense feeling found expres- 
 sion in motion and noise. By stamping or patting 
 with the feet on the floor, and striking the benches 
 with the hands, a constant noise was kept up. All 
 this racket seemed naturally to fall into measured 
 time and rhythmic flow, in exact accord with the 
 feeling of the occasion. They had music in their 
 souls, and every motion fell into that line. All 
 over the house nodding heads kept time to the song 
 of the soul. Several women were up jumping and 
 shouting, but this seemed to bring no disturbance 
 to the harmony of the occasion. Two or three 
 
48 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 Strong men sprang up and threw themselves reck- 
 lessly backward into the audience, but were caught 
 by strong hands, so that no one was hurt. 
 
 This exercise was followed by a more subdued 
 feeling, more calm and mellowed expressions. 
 Just at this time a party struck up a lively air — a 
 real dancing tune. Several women sprang to their 
 feet and danced to the music in a manner that 
 would have been no disgrace to one of Long Jim's 
 moonlight performances. Aunt Lizzie, the very 
 woman who said Long Jim was " leadin' de young 
 niggers to 'struction," was one of the dancers. I 
 do not know how she would have explained the 
 matter. She would probably have said: " Dat 
 was de debil's work, and dis is de Lord's sarvice." 
 
 It was quite the fashion for the young couples on 
 the place to marry in the church. There was a 
 very awkward, gawky fellow by the name of Ike. 
 Ike wore a skin that must have received the last 
 shade of the dark continent. Its glossy finish was 
 a sufficient evidence of its purity. Ike was not de- 
 ficient in features, especially as to nose and lips. 
 One thing redeemed him from ugliness, and that 
 was his pearly white teeth. Altogether he did 
 not seem to be very taking. But considering the 
 strange freaks of a woman's love, it is not very 
 surprising that Ike succeeded in winning the hand 
 of a very plump, saucy-looking girl of eighteen 
 summers. As usual, the wedding was appointed for 
 Sunday afternoon. Ike seemed even more awk- 
 ward at the hymeneal altar. When the preacher 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 49 
 
 ended the ceremony by which the twain were 
 made one, Ike stood with his big Hps sprung apart 
 and was at a loss how to act. His big hands 
 seemed to be wonderfully in his way. His big 
 feet looked like they were glued to the floor. The 
 suspense was biting, but was soon broken by a 
 lusty voice from the audience: "Why don't you 
 salute de bride, nigger? " This was the signal for 
 a general laugh and much handshaking. And the 
 meeting broke up in great good humor. 
 
 John was at times strangely eloquent. Consid- 
 ering that he was a regular field hand, doing full 
 work every day in the week, I was astoni-shed at 
 the way he could preach on Sunday. I was the 
 more interested in him because he used to want me 
 to read the Bible to him. I have often heard him 
 make the most effective use of the very passages 
 he lear'ned from my reading. On one occasion in 
 particular he seemed almost like one inspired. It 
 was Sunday afternoon. All the people were out, 
 and many from the neighboring plantations were 
 present. It was an important funeral occasion. 
 A very good man on the place had died. The 
 name of the man was Tom. As he came from 
 the Weaver estate, he was called Tom Weaver to 
 distinguish him from another Tom on the place. 
 
 I give only the concluding part of the sermon. 
 Excitement was running high as the preacher 
 reached the peroration : 
 
 " Ole Massa above is callin' us home. ["Yes, 
 Lord."] Tom Weaver's done hyerd dat call an' 
 4 
 
50 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 gone. ["Yes, Lord."] He's nomoregwine tode 
 fiel's at daylight; but is singin' an' shoutin' all day 
 among de angels an' tellin' how Jesus helped his 
 po' soul outen de sinful worl'. [" Truff, Lord, 
 hallelujah ! "] Night afore las' Sis' Lizzie an' me 
 was down to Tom's house, an' Tom says to me: 
 ' Brudder John, I's almos' home. [Audible cry- 
 ing.] I wants you an' Sis' Lizzie to pray to Jesus 
 to help me ober de ribber.' Hit was pas' midnight, 
 an' de candle was a burnin' dimlike on de hath, 
 and Sis' Lizzie an' me we got down an' we prayed 
 an' prayed, an' de Holy Ghos' jes' come down in 
 our souls. [Cries of "Bless de Lord!"] An' Tom 
 he lifts his han' all a tremblin' an' p'inted right up 
 toward heben. We knowed de Lord was a 
 comin' for Tom. Sis' Lizzie she fetch de candle, 
 an' sich eyes as Tom did have ! He looked like 
 he was a lookin' right up inter glory. [" Bless de 
 Lord!"] An' hit appeared dat de chariot ob de 
 Lord come right down in dat cabin and Tom went 
 up to glory. [Cries of " Hallelujah !"] Bless de 
 Lord, I's been happy eber since dat night. [Gen- 
 eral shouting; but the preacher rose above the 
 noise and continued.] Tom's an angel now. 
 ["Dat's so; bless de Lord!"] Jes' look at him 
 ober dare!" The preacher seemed rapt as see- 
 ing the invisible, and pointing the way his eyes 
 were looking he repeated: "Jes' look at him ober 
 dare !" He's a lookin' right up in de face of Jesus 
 an' singin' de song ob Moses an' de Lam'. [" Hal- 
 lelujah ! " ] Dis [pointing toward the corpse] is not 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 5I 
 
 Tom Weaver. Dis is de ole hull arter de cotton is 
 done picked out. ["Dat's de truff !"] Tom's up 
 yonder ! [*' Pointing again toward the invisible."] 
 How his face do shine ! Dat looks like Tom when 
 all de sin an' sorrow an' crime has done been taken 
 f'om him. Dat's Tom, done changed to an angel. 
 ["Glory! glory! glory!"] Dis [pointing to the 
 corpse] is Tom's ole cabin lef down here for de 
 Lord to make a mansion outen. [Shouting all over 
 the house. But above the roar of the shouts of vic- 
 tory the preacher's voice rang out clear and distinct 
 like bugle notes as he continued.] Dat is Tom 
 Weaver [still pointing to the invisible] wearin' de 
 crown ob glory. See dat harp in his han' ! Don' 
 you see he favors Jesus? Jes' see him wave dat 
 palm! Shout on, Tom. Dese ole ban's o' mine 
 will arter awhile grasp a harp an' wave a palm ! 
 Yes, bless de Lord, I's comin'. 
 
 Sink down ye separatin' hills, 
 
 Let sin an' death remove, 
 'Tis love that drives my chariot wheels, 
 
 An' death mus' yiel' to love." 
 
 It was a long time before the excitement mel- 
 lowed down. Then the honored negro was laid to 
 rest in the silent grave, and the mourners, in the 
 dusk of evening, returned to their quarters. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 In the Kitchen. 
 
 WAS ever a boy raised who did not love the 
 kitchen ? As well try to find a magnet with- 
 out polarity. The magnetic part of boy is his stom- 
 ach, and it is as true to the kitchen as the needle 
 to the pole. I feel the need of some domestic muse 
 to sing the charms and the mysteries of my mother's 
 kitchen. But from the " vasty deep " or else- 
 where the Muses come not to the hapless man who 
 has no voice to sing. Therefore, in prosaic pe- 
 riods, I must tell of the scenes which so often min- 
 istered soothing palliatives to my tender youth. 
 
 Than a growing boy no animal on earth can, on 
 short notice, get up an appetite of keener edge; 
 such appetites without a kitchen would be a calam- 
 ity. And a kitchen without appetites would be 
 useless. Appetites and kitchens fit each other like 
 framework dovetailed together. In most things we 
 are coworkers with the divine nature. So in this 
 case; God gives the appetite; man or woman has 
 devised the kitchen. But a hungry boy has no 
 time for such speculations. However crooked in 
 his ways, he is always straightforward in his route 
 to the kitchen. However tardy his disposition or 
 his feet in the path of parental requirements, he is 
 ever prompt to obey the calls of hunger. 
 (52) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 53 
 
 But the boy is not alone in his weakness on the 
 side next to the kitchen. It is a trite, but alas! 
 too often it is a true saying, that the nearest course 
 to a man's heart is by way of his stomach. The 
 man of splendid dinners is apt to be popular. 
 Many schemes of state policy have ridden into 
 favor on roast meat and blushing wine. Puncture 
 human nature anywhere, and the cuticle of selfish- 
 ness is the first thing you touch. And of all the 
 component parts of that wonderful nature this cuti- 
 cle is the most sensitive. The nerves not only of 
 appetite, but of pride, ambition, greed, lust, and 
 love, spread themselves there into an intertwining 
 network so compact that not even the needle points 
 of honor and justice can penetrate without a sense 
 of pain ! 
 
 But I am moralizing away from the kitchen. 
 Grand old kitchen ! Memory stands with bared 
 head and bending form looking through a wreath 
 of smiles, down the aisle of years gone by, to the 
 picture of my childhood's happy hours in the dear 
 old kitchen ! Aunt Daphne, black, fat, and jolly, 
 with laughing face, was the presiding genius. 
 There is the fireplace with its immense wood fire. 
 In one corner stands the iron crane ready to swing 
 the " pots " on and off the fire. On the long side 
 table are two whole pigs thoroughly roasted, each 
 with a red apple in its mouth. Two rabbits, each 
 suspended by a cord, are roasting before the fire. 
 An attendant is keeping them saturated with gra\y. 
 Simmering by the fire is the great kettle containing 
 
5 I- SAM WILLIAMS : 
 
 a meat pie nearly large enough to feed a regiment. 
 Great "pones" of light bread are stacked about. 
 There are cakes of all sizes and varieties. Ne- 
 groes great and small, each wearing a white head 
 cloth, are running here and there doing this and 
 attending to that with an alacrity that makes labor 
 a delight. Aunt Daphne sits as a queen in her 
 own dominion giving orders and guiding the des- 
 tinies of things. This is the picture of the reality 
 I saw on a Christmas eve day in the home of my 
 childhood. The servants, as well as their masters, 
 were to have a feast on Christmas, and this was 
 the preparation for the great occasion. 
 
 It was a day of great expectations. A week of 
 holiday after the steady work of the year was 
 something to be prized. Then many of the serv- 
 ants had reason to expect additional favors. The 
 negro's natural talent for cheerfulness and hilarity 
 reached its maximum swell on Christmas eve. At 
 night the Christmas frolic began. Long Jim was 
 the hero of the hour. He knew it, and magnified 
 his opportunity. Uncle Sam the patriarch, John 
 the preacher, and Joe the exhorter were for the 
 time relegated to places of honorable retirement. 
 The young negroes said: 
 
 " We's got Chris'mas in our bones, 
 De fiddle's got Chris'mas in its tones." 
 
 A lover of music might have gratified two senses 
 at once : the fiddle playing music to the ear and the 
 feet speaking music to the eye. The " sound of 
 revelry" continued far into the night — in fact. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 55 
 
 some of the negroes were up so late and others so 
 early there was scarcely a lull in the hilarity during 
 the whole night. 
 
 About daylight troops of servants gathered about 
 " de big house;" old reliable hands on the place 
 behaving with the gravity becoming their position, 
 young lads full of life and fun, "small fry" leap- 
 ing and prancing with excess of joy. A constant 
 murmur of suppressed vociferation, of gay and 
 festive impulses, showed that they had come with 
 Christmas greetings. As soon as a door or window 
 was thrown open they began to shout " Christmas 
 gift" to " ole massa " and " ole missus," to 
 " young massa " and "young missus," and to 
 everybody else who happened to be present. Gifts 
 were distributed, while some of the older men and 
 women were invited around to the closet and 
 treated to a Christmas toddy. This was a mark 
 of special favor, and was so received. 
 
 That Christmas day the weather was delightful. 
 My older brother and his wife, my older sister and 
 her husband, with the little ones of both couples, 
 were on a visit to the old home. It was to be a 
 feast day, and two neighboring families, the Aliens 
 and the Brantletts, had also been invited to dine 
 with us. I was glad at any time to have a day of 
 pleasant romp with Ben and Joe Allen. Their sis- 
 ter Minnie was a pleasant little girl. But I was 
 most delighted that Susie Brantlett was of the com- 
 pany; her very presence was jo}'. Then she took 
 it so much as a matter of course that I appropri- 
 
56 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ated so much of her company to myself. We chil- 
 dren took great interest in all that was going on, 
 especially in what was being done in the kitchen. 
 Things there were growing constantly more to our 
 taste. In the midst of all the confusion we could 
 see a method laboring to an end. These indica- 
 tions we regarded with special delight. 
 
 A side table in the dining room became the cen- 
 ter of attraction. It was spread with a cloth of 
 snowy whiteness and decorated with flowers from 
 the greenhouse. A large China bowl or tureen 
 was in the center containing a silver ladle. Mam- 
 my was presiding here, and officiated with the dig- 
 nity of a sibyl offering oblations to a sylvan deity. 
 When all was ready, " ole massa " was called in to 
 give final directions. Following him were two little 
 negroes, one bringing the decanter and the other a 
 basket of eggs. The design was evident. The 
 Christmas eggnog was now to be made. The pro- 
 ceeding was watched with peculiar interest by all 
 the servants who could venture up close enough to 
 see. The interest thus manifested was not without 
 a reason ; for on this annual festival it was the cus- 
 tom to distribute the eggnog among all the serv- 
 ants who were supposed to be old enough to love it. 
 Our fathers indulged in this convivial custom with 
 never a thought that they were sowing the seeds of 
 fearful temptation for the generations following. 
 
 We were all well pleased — especially was this 
 true of my sister Mary — by the arrival of Will 
 Benson to take part in the festivities. Will was a 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 57 
 
 genial, good fellow, and added much to the bon- 
 homie of any company. But somehow it appeared 
 to me that he was not particularly concerned about 
 the company that day. 
 
 Keeping an eye as usual on the kitchen and its 
 annex, the dining room, we found that things there 
 were rounding to a beautiful consistency. A side 
 table in the dining room the exact image as to its 
 top dressing of the larger one was set for the chil- 
 dren. We little men and women very keenly ap- 
 preciated this token of respect. With' mammy to 
 wait on us, and with Susie by my side, and with 
 little companions to appreciate the hospitality, it 
 could not fail to be a high day with me. 
 
 Ours was not the home of oppressive ceremony. 
 From the times to which my memory runs not 
 back, three courses at dinner were regarded as 
 amply sufficient for any occasion: first soup, then 
 meats and vegetables, and lastly cake and fruit. 
 These courses, with coffee or milk as per taste, 
 enlivened by genial and general conversation, 
 made a meal which lords and ladies might have 
 enjoyed. 
 
 Next to enjoying a good dinner is to see some 
 one else enjoy one. So when the company left the 
 table, the ladies to gossip, the gentlemen to discuss 
 politics, and Will and sister to revel in love's sweet 
 dreams, we boys repaired to the kitchen to enjoy 
 the relish with which the servants received their 
 dinner. As they all could not eat in the kitchen, 
 temporary tables had been prepared in the back 
 
58 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 yard, and loads after loads of provisions were car- 
 ried out. The older servants had charge, and the 
 utmost decorum prevailed. It was a pleasure to 
 see how the young bucks bowed reverently to their 
 seniors and anticipated every wish of the dusky 
 maidens. They probably had never heard of 
 Cupid, but the principle represented by that gay 
 little deity was as active that day as he could have 
 been in any similar assembly in any part of the 
 world. Fewer preliminaries lay in the way of con- 
 summated love with these than with any other peo- 
 ple. Good nature, light-heartedness, the absence 
 of all care, the entire exemption from anxious 
 thought were plainly visible in every face. 
 
 The perfect picture of placid contentment which 
 has clung to memory through all these years was 
 presented by old Mike. He was a large, good- 
 natured old fellow, evidently the man to enjoy a 
 good dinner and a good rest after it was eaten. 
 The dinner he had enjoyed. To make it more 
 complete, it had been spiced with a cup of good 
 coffee. He had managed to save over his mug of 
 eggnog, or, which is more probable, had suc- 
 ceeded in getting a second supply. He was sitting 
 in his chair with his chest thrown back, one leg 
 stretched out at full length, while a permanent 
 smile rested on his placid countenance. Saying 
 but little while hilarity was holding high carnival 
 around him, he was sipping the delightful beverage 
 in a way to prolong the taste. It was not in his 
 nature to sigh for a long neck, but he did the more 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 59 
 
 sensible thing of lengthening out the potations. 
 He was the very expression of contentment. 
 
 " Hello, Uncle Mike," said a pert youngster, "is 
 yer gwine ter git tipsy on yer eggnog? " 
 
 " Go on, nigger," was Uncle Mike's reply, " you 
 ain' wuff a ni' pence nohow;" and with this good- 
 natured thrust Uncle Mike's face lighted up with 
 a still richer glow of satisfaction. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 Care of the Sick. 
 
 THE negroes were a remarkably healthy race. 
 T he invalid was practically unknown. They 
 frequently had colds in winter, but consumption 
 was very rarely found. Their diseases were most- 
 ly the result of a malarious climate. The soil was 
 full of kumusy rich and moist, and produced chills 
 with nearly as much certainty as it produced cot- 
 ton. But the chills were usually of a mild type 
 and easily cured. The negroes were substantially 
 fed, comfortably clothed, and had prompt medical 
 attention when needed. Such conditions, with the 
 absence of care, were conducive to health. Nev- 
 ertheless the country practitioner was a familiar 
 personage in the quarters. He was promptly called 
 when a case seemed to be serious. 
 
 It was father's rule to see that the hands had 
 proper attention when sick. The milder cases 
 were attended to without the aid of a physician, 
 as father had from long experience become ex- 
 pert in the management of ordinary diseases. 
 Much of his success was due to faithful nursing. 
 He would rise at any time of night, if necessary, 
 to see that medicines were properly given. A 
 supply of drugs was always on hand, so that in 
 cases of emergency, as well as in milder attacks 
 (60) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 
 
 6l 
 
 of sickness, suffering might be relieved. Both 
 humanity and pecuniary interest prompted to this 
 course. 
 
 Many of my errands to the quarters were in the 
 interest of the sick. I was sent to carry simple 
 remedies or to inquire about a patient. Many 
 were the profound, if not wise, discourses and 
 dark intimations to which I have listened concern- 
 ing diseases, and their causes and cures. There 
 was a strong tendency among the negroes to be 
 fatalists. Calamities came by divine appointment. 
 Disease and death were unalterably fixed in the 
 plans of Providence. The negroes rarely ever 
 looked to imprudence or local causes to account 
 for these things. God willed it so, and they could 
 only submit. 
 
 But there was a class of diseases, so the negroes 
 thought, that was not in the order of God's provi- 
 dence; disease not reached by the doctor's med- 
 icine. Man was to a great extent, through some 
 evil influence, responsible for much of the discom- 
 fort to which man is liable. The old superstition 
 of the evil eye seemed to be rife among them. 
 Alf said: " No sooner' n ole Ned looked at me, I 
 felt de pains in de hip j'ints." This is but a sam- 
 ple case. They believed in a sort of witchcraft 
 known as "conjuring." Some people, so they 
 thought, had the power of producing spells. This 
 was accomplished in some profoundly mysterious 
 way by a mummery of senseless words over a rab- 
 bit's foot, a snake's head, or certain bones of an 
 
62 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 animal. When one felt sick and did not know what 
 was the matter, he was apt to conclude he was 
 "tricked." This led to many broils and many 
 estrangements. So true is it that imaginary ills 
 make up no inconsiderable part of those that flesh 
 is heir to. 
 
 Some of the negroes encouraged a belief in their 
 supernatural power. True, that made them ob- 
 jects of suspicion and aversion. But they were 
 feared ; were often a cause of terror. The innate 
 love of power asserted itself. We all have a nat- 
 ural longing for a connection with the invisible 
 and spiritual. This is especially true of the negro 
 race. This feeling usually led to noble aspirations 
 for communion with God. But a few turned to 
 the darkly mysterious, and hence here and there 
 a man or woman was found carrying about some 
 mysterious charms, as heads of snakes or lizards, 
 or the bones and feet of some small animal. 
 
 And many were their victims, and strange were 
 their complaints. Those who imagined themselves 
 affected could feel lizards and scorpions and even 
 huge serpents crawling through their bodies. I 
 remember one man of robust frame and ordinary 
 intelligence, pointing to his large forearm, and 
 telling me that he saw a snake come down his 
 arm just under the skin. It came down to his 
 wrist and then doubled back and crawled away 
 into his body. I questioned him closely, and he 
 said that he actually saw and felt the snake. It 
 was some three feet long and an inch In diameter. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 63 
 
 and it was at that very time running riot in every 
 part of his body. Another negro, a blacksmith, a 
 man of more intelligence than an ordinary field 
 hand, said that he had no doubt these things were 
 so. He had been troubled himself. He just the 
 other day while at work drew his hand across his 
 forehead to wipe away the " sweat," and brushed 
 a full-grown lizard from his brow. He could not 
 be mistaken, he said, for he saw it plainly when it 
 fell to the ground. It remained in sight but for 
 an instant, but long enough for him to get a good 
 look at it, These superstitions were realities to 
 them. The least encouragement would lead them 
 on to tell a whole train of evils, evils no less af- 
 flictive because imaginary. It is one of the great 
 blessings of enlightenment that we get rid of so 
 many imaginary ills. How many yet remain, even 
 among educated people ! 
 
 Superstitious diseases called for superstitious 
 remedies. Rabbit foot against rabbit foot. Cer- 
 tain persons had power to remove "spells." 
 There were always " spells" to be removed, and 
 some of the cures were marvelous. Thus a double 
 practice went on in the quarters. The man of sci- 
 ence looked at the tongue, felt the pulse, and 
 measured his powders or applied his opodeldoc. 
 The man, or oftener the woman, of superstition 
 mumbled over the lizard heads, spoke unmeaning 
 words, and looked mysterious. Cures generally 
 followed in either case. 
 
 With what tenacity superstition clings to the 
 
64 SAM WILLIAMS : 
 
 mind ! It is like some indelible tracery on fine 
 linen, which, after many efforts to remove, may still 
 be dimly seen. Reason did not avail. The more 
 I argued the more they asserted. What they had 
 felt and seen with confidence they told. Ridicule 
 was better. The man who gets the laugh on his 
 side has more than half gained the victory. But 
 victories over superstition are apt to be temporary. 
 When the mind settles back to its normal quietude, 
 the dark streaks, though dim, are still to be found 
 there. The stern authority of the master was best 
 of all. That at least stopped the complaints. Fa- 
 ther had no patience with such folly. 
 
 Amusing instances sometimes occurred. One 
 day Short Jim came in with the backache. It was 
 in the midst of the busiest season. This was nat- 
 ural: aches have a tendency to assert themselves 
 at such times. The case was duly reported at the 
 house, and father went down. As I had no im- 
 portant engagements just at that time, I followed 
 after him. Jim was a short, fat young fellow, the 
 very picture of health. I stopped by the way and 
 asked Aunt Lizzie what was the matter with Jim. 
 Emphasizing her opinion in advance by a very sig- 
 nificant grunt, she replied: " Dat nigger is jes 
 possomin." I found Jim doing some very osten- 
 tatious grunting. Father's manner was very much 
 in accord with Aunt Lizzie's opinion. Fortunate- 
 ly, for aches father had one great remedy — that 
 was the Jew David plaster. Jew David was the 
 specific in all backaches, sideaches, and aches in 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 65 
 
 general. Everything but the toothache. This 
 plaster came on in little tin boxes, and had to be 
 heated and spread on a cloth to be used. Jew 
 David had at least one noble quality, the same 
 which a presiding elder so highly prized in some 
 of his preachers : stickability. It settled down 
 with an air of something that had come to stay. 
 Be it said to its praise: it "sticks to its business." 
 Faithfulness was probably not its only virtue, but 
 it was certainly one of the chief. 
 
 Father always went about the preparation of the 
 plaster with the manner of a man who knew that 
 he was doing the proper thing. There was an air 
 of precision and alacrity. He knew exactly how 
 it should be done. I remember so well how he 
 placed the thumb and forefinger of the left hand 
 on opposite corners of the cloth, and then, with 
 knife in exact position, the hot plaster was taken 
 from the box and spread. He said that the plaster 
 should be applied hot. Heat was a great advan- 
 tage. The plaster stuck better, and was more ef- 
 fective. If it blistered, all the better. That was 
 counter irritation, and counter irritation was the 
 thing. If the plaster blistered, it also cured the 
 blister by excluding the air. Well, the plaster was 
 prepared in due form, and heated to a pitch every 
 way satisfactory. Jim was ready, so there was no 
 loss of caloric in transit from fire to back. The 
 effect was magical! Jim's exclamation, " O mas- 
 sa ! " would require at least five exclamation points 
 to give the reader an idea of the surprise it ex- 
 5 
 
SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 pressed. But his right hand was still more de- 
 monstrative. Catching the plaster by one corner, 
 he snatched it entirely off. It fairly popped as it 
 loosened its hold. Now father did not like trifling 
 where Jew David was concerned. So, reaching 
 for a shingle, he gave Jim a few lively spanks 
 which restored him to calmness and reason. 
 
 Jim said that he was entirely well, never felt bet- 
 ter, and was only too anxious to go to work. But 
 father quietly remarked that the plaster would keep 
 him well. It was duly heated again, and Jim re- 
 ceived it meekly, and went cheerfully to work. It 
 was evidently his first experience with the plaster, 
 and was likely to be the last for some time. The 
 negroes were wonderfully interested in Jim's back- 
 ache. For several weeks they scarcely missed an 
 opportunity to ask him about his back. I think 
 the back got to be a sore subject with Jim. But 
 somehow it seemed to afford a good deal of amuse- 
 ment to the others. In this case, as in many oth- 
 ers, Jew David maintained its high reputation. The 
 cure was instantaneous and permanent. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Funeral . 
 
 ONE day the quiet of our homes was disturbed 
 by the arrival of a messenger bringing news 
 that Mr. Webb was very sick. tJncle George was 
 ordered to get the carriage ready, and mother took 
 me and went over. When we arrived, we found 
 some of the neighbors already in attendance. Two 
 doctors were present, the servants moved about 
 with anxious faces, spoke in low tones, and went 
 on tiptoe when they had occasion to enter the 
 chamber of the sick. Mrs. Webb was completely 
 broken down with apprehension. All indications 
 pointed to the worst. When I fully comprehended 
 the situation, a chill of gloom came over me. I 
 had never before been so near face to face with 
 the grim monster. By the bedside of the sick man 
 stood his faithful old foreman, Uncle Ephriam, 
 anxious to anticipate every wish in his power to 
 alleviate his master's suffering. The servants were 
 all attentive, grief -stricken, and seemed anxious to 
 be told to do something; so solicitous were they 
 to assist, if possible, in turning aside a calamity so 
 much dreaded. 
 
 As it was not necessary for mother to sit up, we 
 returned home in the evening; but continued our 
 visits every day. The members of the family met 
 
 (67) 
 
68 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 the emergency by all the tender and soothing at- 
 tentions which love and veneration could suggest. 
 This was natural, and was to be expected. But I 
 was deeply impressed with the solicitude manifested 
 by the servants. They were of a different race, 
 occupied the place of menials, and held in perpet- 
 ual servitude by a force they were unable to resist. 
 Now the very man who more immediately repre- 
 sented that force to them, and in whose service 
 they had grown up from infancy, was passing 
 away. I doubt whether any of them would have 
 been more concerned if one of the dearest of their 
 own kindred had been about to die. 
 
 The third day there was apparently a change for 
 the better. The sign of hope was plainly visible 
 on the faces of all the servants, even more than 
 upon those of the whites. It looked like a bright 
 morning was about to dawn after a night of ter- 
 rors. Old Ephriam looked almost rejuvenated. 
 But the hopes of the faithful old servant were of 
 short duration. That night a change for the 
 worse was so decided that death ensued before 
 morning. 
 
 The day following was one of great sadness. 
 The servants were almost in despair. Their loss 
 was truly great. The loss of a good master was 
 about the greatest loss a slave could sustain. The 
 expression of mingled grief and anxiety so visible 
 on every face made a lasting impression on my 
 mind. Their grief was genuine; their anxiety 
 was not without cause. They loved their master. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 69 
 
 His death had touched the wellspring, and every 
 wrong had been forgiven and every complaint for- 
 gotten. They followed him to the grave with a 
 sorrow that was as real as it was pathetic. They 
 knew full well that his death would bring changes 
 to them. The old home and the old associations 
 would probably all be broken up. Relations that 
 had subsisted from infancy were now to be dis- 
 solved. New masters, younger and more vigorous, 
 would now take charge. Young masters are apt 
 to have fortunes to make, and the negroes knew 
 that the making would be required of them. It 
 was therefore natural that anxiety should mingle 
 with their sorrow* I was also impressed with the 
 simplicity of their trust in an overruling Provi- 
 dence, and with what promptness and force their 
 religious convictions came to their support in this 
 hour of distress. 
 
 But while I was musing upon these things, my 
 spirit shadowed by the signs and cries of distress 
 around me, a familiar carriage was drawn up, and 
 I saw that Mrs. Brantlett had brought Susie. The 
 little creature was overawed by the solemnity of 
 the occasion, and saddened by the moans of grief, 
 but her presence was sunshine to me. I soon con- 
 trived an excuse for a walk in the garden. There, 
 among the flowers and shrubbery, gloom and sad- 
 ness melted away like snow in summer. Though 
 almost in the very presence of death, and still 
 hearinof the sounds of sorrow which ever and anon 
 came up from the quarters, our spirits brightened in 
 
70 SAM WILLIAMS 
 
 the glow of life's bright youth and budding hopes. 
 Extremes had met. The winter of gloom and the 
 sunshine of spring lay alongside of each other. 
 There in the house were age and death and sor- 
 row; here in the garden were youth, love, and joy. 
 It was like certain places in Switzerland where 
 winter rules with a frozen scepter in undisputed 
 sovereignty over the giant mountains, while spring 
 crowns with brightest flowers the vale below. 
 
 'Tis ever thus in the world's broad history. The 
 tears of sorrow and the smiles of joy are bathed 
 in the same bright sunshine and fanned by the 
 same gentle breeze. The wedding march and the 
 funeral procession often keep step to the same 
 strain of nature's music. 
 
 But the hour for interment came, and we formed 
 a procession out to the family graveyard, where, 
 with appropriate ceremonies, the remains were laid 
 to rest. Some stout, young servants came forward 
 with spades to fill the grave. They looked as if 
 they were burying their own hopes beneath every 
 spadeful of dirt. After the grave had been taste- 
 fully decorated with flowers and evergreens, and 
 the white people were turning slowly and sadly 
 away, the servants gathered closely around the 
 tomb. Some of them had brought flowers, with 
 which the freshly raised mound was strewn. I 
 was surprised, if not amused, to see the kinds of 
 flowers they brought. They were pinks, holly- 
 hocks, poppies, bachelor's buttons, and touch-me- 
 nots, such as grew around their cabin doors; but 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 7 1 
 
 they were the tributes of real affection. Others 
 fell down in complete abandon of sorrow, and 
 some found relief in tears. Some were praying 
 aloud, and others with silent grief. After awhile 
 they seemed to find some relief in singing a song 
 peculiarly pathetic and sadly appropriate. One 
 stanza of that song I now remember: 
 
 Down in de co'n fiel', 
 
 Hear dat mo'nful soun'; 
 All de darkies am a weepin': 
 
 Massa's in be col', col' groun'. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 Attending Church. 
 
 ONE Saturday our family was thrown into a flut- 
 ter of delightful expectancy by a visit from 
 the pastor, who informed us that the bishop, in pass- 
 ing, would spend a couple of days at our house, 
 and would also preach at Conway's Chapel to- 
 morrow. As we had never had the honor of en- 
 tertaining one of our bishops, this was rare news, 
 and at once rare preparations were made to re- 
 ceive the distinguished guests. I say guests be- 
 cause the bishop was accompanied by another dis- 
 tinguished preacher, who was looking after some 
 important interest of the Church. The great sim- 
 plicity, the air of homelike familiarity, and father- 
 ly bearing with which they entered our home put 
 every one of us at ease. We at once grouped 
 about them in the attitude of listeners, while they 
 did the talking, And such talking ! 
 
 Their stay at our house was to me an intellect- 
 ual epoch. It was the uplifting of the soul; a 
 clearing of the mental vision ; an expanding of the 
 imagination ! They were acquainted with every 
 part of the Church. They talked about the work 
 along all the Mississippi and its tributaries ; along 
 the Alleghanies; on the Atlantic and Gulf coasts. 
 (72) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 73 
 
 They had been much among the Indians. Many- 
 were the incidents related in the lives of these 
 strange people. The bishop had even been to 
 California, following the people in their mad rush 
 for gold. To see and hear a man who had been 
 to that distant countr}'- was about like contact 
 with a being from another sphere. The bishop 
 had gone by water, and this added rnuch to the 
 interest of the narrative. They talked about the 
 mission in China, and the prospect of converting 
 the world to Christ. Such comprehensive views 
 I had never before heard. Here was a man at the 
 center of a mighty movement, planning, thinking, 
 and working for the good of others. In my imag- 
 ination I could see the preachers of his appoint- 
 ment following the settlers into every part of the 
 great West, while they were holding forth the bea- 
 con lights of knowledge to the people in the East, 
 and seeking the salvation of the slaves on the rice, 
 cotton, and sugar plantations of the South. They 
 were penetrating the forest to the homes of men 
 who had settled in the lonely swamps or pitched 
 their habitations on the rugged mountains. Wheth- 
 er the people were white or black or red, wheth- 
 er they lived in pleasant homes or in huts or in wig- 
 wams, whether they were intelligent or ignorant, 
 whether they were refined or rude, with the same 
 untiring zeal they were sought and instructed. 
 
 I could see that here was a system that worked ; 
 that was forceful, elastic, and far-reaching. Here 
 were men in vast numbers, moved by a common 
 
74 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 impulse, ready to go, and go cheerfully, anywhere ; 
 to follow Indian trails or take their way through 
 the trackless forest, to swim rivers, to sleep in huts 
 or camp in the woods; to brave diseases or the 
 skulking savages, to endure hardships and priva- 
 tions of every kind ; yea, to defy death itself that 
 they might accomplish their important mission. 
 Vital in every fiber of the movement was a pow- 
 er to command the allegiance and inspire the 
 energies of the soul. It was an organized force 
 against ignorance and wrong, and instinct with an 
 uplifting and cleansing power. It appeared to me 
 that no President could command such service, 
 and no king could count on such fidelity. Here was 
 life full of purpose ; it was life worth living. Such 
 was the impression that these kindly, fatherly men 
 made on my mind. Their conversation was full 
 of reminiscence, full of hope, and richly spiced 
 with anecdotes. They seemed so kindly dis- 
 posed, so ready to talk, so gentle and persuasive 
 in manner that I ventured a question or two. 
 The dignified simplicity with which they con- 
 descended to my young capacity was truly grat- 
 ifying, and, as I have since learned to appreciate 
 things, a most decided evidence of true great- 
 ness. That visit has been to me an intellectual 
 and moral benediction. 
 
 Sunday morning Uncle George brought out the 
 carriage in more than the usual good trim. The 
 horses were of fine appearance, and had those qual- 
 ities so highl}^ prized: mettle and bottom. Every 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 75 
 
 movement showed that they had been well kept 
 and properly groomed. Every planter prided him- 
 self on the good qualities of his carriage horses. 
 The carriage of that day has long been extinct. 
 Then it was a badge of respectability, and indica- 
 ted some degree of wealth. Nearly every family 
 in good circumstances had one. They were cost- 
 ly concerns, many of them costing as much as 
 their drivers. Ours cost about twelve hundred 
 dollars. In general shape it w^as something like a 
 steamboat on wheels. It was rounded in the front 
 and at the rear, and the bottom sloped up at each 
 end as if intended for the water. Then the top 
 was oval, so as to shed water every way from the 
 center, very much after the style of the covering 
 on boats. Trusting entirely to memory, I judge that 
 the "ladies' cabin" was about six feet long, and 
 four feet wide, and five feet from floor to ceiling. 
 It was entered from either side, by a door. Each 
 door had a large panel of glass to admit the light. 
 In the front and rear were mirrors fixed in the 
 wall, so that ladies sitting tete-a-tete could see 
 themselves while riding. The carriage, on the in- 
 side, was finely cushioned throughout. Padded 
 pendants made of soft material hung at the sides. 
 Some of these pendants hung in a loop, and others 
 with a tassel. They were intended mostly for or- 
 nament, but might be used as supports for the 
 hand. The carriage was a luxury, and was built 
 for elegance and comfort. I have seen no palace 
 car with finer finish. The driver's seat was 
 
76 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 perched high on the front, and placed the "like- 
 ly fellow " several feet above his horses. George 
 drew up in front 'of the gate in fine style. With 
 a flourish of dignity, he nimbly alighted from his 
 place of honor, opened the door, and unfolded the 
 steps. The steps were neatly folded up just inside 
 the door. When unfolded they reached nearly to 
 the ground, each outward and downward-bound 
 step becoming smaller. This was necessarily the 
 case, as they folded into each other. They were 
 so firmly hinged into each other as to hold a per- 
 son's weight without apparent strain. Of course 
 Will Benson was on hand, to help sister Mary into 
 the carriage. It was quite an accomplishment for 
 a lady to mount the carriage steps with becoming 
 dignity, and I noticed that the help of a gentleman 
 always aided very much in the accomplishment of 
 the feat. The bishop and his companion rode in an 
 open carriage. As they had taken a fancy to me, 
 they invited me to ride with them. This invitation 
 I was delighted to accept. All being ready, the 
 boat on wheels led the way, and we followed. 
 This comparison of the old family carriage to a 
 steamboat was probably suggested by an amusing 
 incident which occurred long after the time of 
 which I am writing. As the great civil war was 
 dragging its dismal length near to a close, the Fed- 
 eral soldiers were making a raid through the coun- 
 try. It was along a lonesome road through the 
 pine hills in the western part of Calhoun County, 
 Mississippi. Under a shelter near the roadside, 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 77 
 
 and near a home that had once known better days, 
 one of these old carriages had found rest for the 
 last three years. Some of the .foremost cavalry- 
 men, pointing to the antique symbol of departing 
 glory, cried out " Gunboat! " and made a wide 
 curve in the line of march, as if afraid of the 
 monster. The whole line took up the cry, and 
 with great glee made the curve around the harm- 
 less relic of a once powerful aristocracy. 
 
 Will was conspicuous as he cantered along close 
 behind the carriage, ready for any emergency, es- 
 pecially to be ready to assist sister from the car- 
 riage and escort her to the church door. That 
 was the exact thing to do under the circumstances. 
 As we drew near the church, we saw carriages 
 coming from all parts of the country. Behind 
 each carriage was a young man in a fair canter to 
 keep up. To a cynical eye they might have sug- 
 gested the idea of sharks in the wake of ships. 
 Behind one carriage there were two young men 
 speeding along as if in a race. The reason was 
 soon apparent. There were two young ladies de- 
 manding attention. Ladies and gentlemen did not 
 sit together in church in those days. So the ladies 
 were simply escorted to the door. It appears to 
 me that the young gentlemen of that day were 
 more easily satisfied with the amount of the young 
 ladies' company than are the lads of our times. 
 Now the young gentleman takes his sweetheart in 
 a buggy all to himself, takes any circuitous route 
 in getting there, and then sits by her side while the 
 
78 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 minister conducts the services, or at least takes 
 some part in the exercises. 
 
 The services ii^ church that day were just such 
 as might be expected from the able men who con- 
 ducted them. There was no effort at display, no 
 airing of great philosophical questions, nothing to 
 suggest or invite skepticism. The truth was pre- 
 sented with such persuasive unction and simple 
 purity of diction as at once to win the assent of 
 the mind and the affection of the heart. 
 
 To me the occasion was one of delight. I sat 
 by mother and she sat near Mrs. Brantlett and 
 Susie. I was between two sources of inspiration: 
 Susie and the bishop. Faith went out toward the 
 pulpit, and love toward Susie. Heaven and earth 
 had charms equally attractive. Fortunately, in 
 my view, the charms were not incompatible. I 
 saw no reason why heaven and earth might not 
 embrace and kiss each other, and that I should be 
 the center of the meeting. Duty thrilled from the 
 pulpit; love rose gently from the pew. As these 
 lines lay out before me, I could see that they were 
 not parallel, but soon became identical. 
 
 The visit of the good bishop to our house was 
 made more memorable by the fact that Will Ben- 
 son took occasion by it to bring his suit for the 
 hand of sister Mary to a happy consummation. 
 Will had for some time been urging this matter, 
 and had the consent of all who had a right to be 
 consulted. But mother wished to postpone. She 
 liked Will. She knew he was a gentleman, and 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 79 
 
 Mary was doing well. She did not make wealth 
 a special consideration, but I noticed that she gen- 
 erally mentioned the fact that Mjr. Benson had a 
 fine plantation and worked many hands. But why 
 not wait just a little. Will had consummate skill 
 in the management of feminine instincts. It would 
 be so nice, he said, to be married by the bishop. 
 And such an opportunity would never again oc- 
 cur. He had learned that the bishop could be 
 induced to stay and rest until Tuesday morning. 
 Why not now, as well as any time? Mother was 
 fairly caught. To have her daughter married by 
 a bishop was evidently taking. Father saw the 
 effect, smiled at the young man's ingenuity, and 
 said: " Yes, as well now as any time." So Tues- 
 day morning the private, simple wedding took place. 
 Only a few of the neighbors witnessed the hap- 
 py event. The distinguished ministers went on 
 their way. Will and sister Mary blessed their 
 coming, as did every one else. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 On a Visit. 
 
 WHEN I was about twelve years old, a very 
 memorable event occurred. It was a visit to 
 the family of my older sister. Capt. Johnson owned 
 a large plantation in Louisiana. Mother had often 
 planned a visit down there, and now it was to be 
 realized. Great were the preparations, and great 
 the expectations which ushered in the day of our 
 departure. Mother, mammy, and I were the prin- 
 cipals in the movement; while trunks, boxes, and 
 bundles were, according to sister Mary's idea, 
 entirely too numerous for respectability. Mother 
 said she didn't think it necessary to take much 
 baggage, but of course we must have several dif- 
 ferent suits. We would meet strangers, probably 
 desire to make some visits, and possibly wish to 
 attend church. Our wardrobe had to be equal 
 to all these possibilities. Then there might be 
 changes in the weather, and it would be better to 
 have wraps. We might by some accident all get 
 wet, and some heavy cloaks and oversuits would 
 be needed. Then Mary, Fannie, and Willie, sweet 
 little things, must all have some special presents 
 from grandma. Father ventured to remark that 
 we had better not overload the boat, for in that 
 case we might not need the clothing. Mother's 
 (80) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 8l 
 
 reply indicated that there was apt to be a very- 
 fair margin between what men know and what 
 they think they know. So with much debating and 
 deliberating the number of packages to be taken 
 was definitely settled. It was also settled that fa- 
 ther was to go with us to the river, and see us 
 comfortably on the boat. 
 
 As there was a convenient stopping place about 
 halfway to the river, it was determined to make 
 the trip by easy drives in two days. The auspi- 
 cious morning finally came, and George brought 
 out his span of blacks in splendid order. The car- 
 riage fairly glistened in the morning sun. George 
 was dressed for the occasion. He sported a suit 
 of second-hand black. It was a composite suit, 
 the different parts having been furnished by dif- 
 erent originals, of different sizes. The pants 
 were tight at the knee, and wide at the shoe, re- 
 minding one of an inverted lily. The coat was 
 remarkable for extravagance in length and econ- 
 omy in breadth of tail. His boot heels added 
 about one and a half inches to his height, while 
 his head was crowned with a narrow "beaver" 
 nearly a foot long. I took his picture with my 
 eye, by the instantaneous process, while he was 
 mounting his seat on the front end of the carriage, 
 and just as his rear foot was on the last step, and 
 his front one on the foot rest of the driver's seat. 
 In this position he has served ever since to remind 
 me of a crane climbing up a corner of a cliff at the 
 angle of a mill pond. 
 6 
 
82 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 It was in early morning in May when we finally 
 waved adieu to familiar scenes, and took our 
 course westward to the river. As a special favor, 
 I was allowed that bright spring morning to ride 
 out on the seat with George. We were soon skirt- 
 ing along the edge of Mr. Benson's farm; then 
 away into the wooded country where birds greet- 
 ed us, and ever and anon a squirrel was seen to 
 jump from limb to limb amid the leafy bowers of 
 his native home. All nature glowed in a broad 
 sheen of sunshine, leaf, and flower. It was a time 
 for thought and reverie. For once my tongue was 
 silent, and my reason active. On that beautiful 
 morning my young imagination was held in a sweet 
 thraldom by the blending sensations of sight and 
 sound. Mother nature was humming in my rea- 
 son's ear a delightful song to the praise of the ever 
 present Deity. Beneath the calm surface of beau- 
 ty my mind was reading an underlying purpose of 
 divine love and protection. There was before me 
 in all its complicated beauty the problem of all 
 ages, the problem of existence. The lesson it 
 spelled out to me was one of trust and hope. 
 Looking back at this distance, I do not see how 
 my mind could have been better employed, or my 
 conclusions more just; for surely he sees nature 
 "through a glass darkly" who fails to see in her 
 manifold phases the ever present finger of purpose 
 pointing to the invisible Power whose presence is 
 felt in every atom of existence. 
 
 But my reverie was checked or turned into a new 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 83 
 
 channel by the sight of something far down the road 
 coming slowly toward us, while we were moving 
 rapidly toward it. It was like a covered wagon, 
 but somehow w^e could see no team or driver. 
 Finally there was the appearance of a boy's head 
 right in the middle of the slowly moving mass. 
 Then there seemed to be a horse's head peering 
 out in front. At last George discovered that it 
 was a boy carr3nng a huge bag of wool rolls in 
 front of him on a horse. " Dar's a wool-kyardin' 
 mersheen down on de road head uv us." When 
 we met the lad, I was surprised to see the same 
 boy I had seen piling brush for his father when I 
 w^as out last winter rabbit hunting- It was evident 
 the family was beginning thus early to manufac- 
 ture clothes for the coming winter. " Dat's John 
 Henderson," said George. *' He's a son uv John 
 Henderson, the kyarpenter. His paw's named 
 John an' he's named John." There was a con- 
 temptuous slur in George's voice. This was be- 
 cause of the boy's lowly condition. Such is the 
 force of thought when it is ground into us by daily 
 experience. George had an utter contempt for a 
 freeman whose condition compelled him to do the 
 work a slave was bound to do. Freedom and 
 idleness, slavery and work, were so connected in 
 George's mind that they were correlative condi- 
 tions. But the boy had a bright, winning face, 
 and I desired to know more about him. We soon 
 arrived at the " kyarding mersheen," as George 
 called it, and finding a good spring and a good 
 
84 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 chance to water and rest the team, we drew up for 
 lunch. As we were in no hurry to get away, I 
 had an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity in re- 
 gard to this wool-carding machine. It was driven 
 by water applied to a breast wheel. The wheel 
 was some twenty feet in diameter, and had " buck- 
 ets" — that is, receptacles for the water — all around 
 its rim. These buckets were about two feet 
 long, reaching across the face of the wheel. They 
 were about four by five inches in breadth and 
 depth. The water ran into the buckets from a 
 flume about half the height of the wheel, or 
 "breast high." Hence the name. The buckets 
 were filled in succession as the wheel moved slow- 
 ly around. The machinery was driven by the 
 weight of the water in the buckets. The wool, 
 after being thoroughly washed and picked, thus 
 being freed from dirt and burs, was placed on a 
 feeder and thus carried regularly into the machine. 
 The wool, being well carded, came out in rolls 
 about a yard long. These were taken up in 
 bunches, and so looped that they could be packed 
 in large bags for transportation. That was one of 
 the bags we had seen carried by John Henderson, 
 " de kyarpenter's son." 
 
 Next day about i o'clock we reached the riv- 
 er. The great father of waters had taken on royal 
 proportions. As we went through a cut in the 
 bluff down to the landing, it seemed to me we 
 would drive right into the world of waters at our 
 feet. I could hardly assure myself that there was 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 85 
 
 no danger, and that the water was some distance off. 
 The boat was expected to arrive soon, as she was 
 due to leave at 4 o'clock that afternoon. My 
 fears subsided very rapidly, and my curiosity rose 
 in like ratio. It kept mother and mammy both 
 busy to keep me out of danger. Two trading 
 boats were cabled at the landing, and seemed to 
 be doing well in trading dry goods and notions. 
 These floating stores were novelties to me; and 
 had my cash been equal to my questions, I would 
 have been a much desired customer. Several 
 skiffs were tied to stakes at the water's edge. To 
 get in them and feel the motion of the waves 
 seemed to me an innocent pastime, but mother 
 and mammy were constantly perturbed lest the lit- 
 tle boat should get adrift with me. 
 
 But attention was now directed to the noise of a 
 steamboat. Of course we thought it was our boat, 
 and we looked anxiously up the river to catch sight 
 of her. It seemed to me she was a long time mak- 
 ing her appearance. As the sound became more 
 distinct, it seemed that the boat was coming up the 
 river. So we impatiently waited, looking first up 
 and then down the river. The beauty of the 
 scenery now began to dawn upon me. Our land- 
 ing seemed to be just in the center of a grand 
 bend, as the river flowed round at our feet. On 
 the opposite side, a fringe of willows, kissing with, 
 lips of green the river's rippling face, made a 
 graceful and beautiful curve, receding from us in 
 either direction, until it obstructed our view of the 
 
86 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 great stream. Thus the river seemea to end in 
 points about six miles above and below. It looked 
 as if we stood on the outer rim of a great crescent 
 of water, looking down into either horn. The 
 mellow sunshine, like the spirit of peace, added 
 yet brighter charms to this scene of beauty. 
 
 Above the green foliage we could at last see the 
 smoke of the steamer as she was coming round the 
 bend below. Presently she glided into view, 
 seeming to emerge from some recess in the green 
 forest. A glance up the river showed that our 
 boat also was in sight. The scene was splendid. 
 A magnificent crescent of water, glistening with a 
 silvery sheen, lay before us, while the two boats 
 looked like gems set in either tapering horn. 
 
 The boat coming up seemed to court the farther 
 shore, and made no motion to land until about op- 
 posite us, and then came directly across. This 
 was to avoid the swift current on our side. The 
 other boat, having the current in her favor, came 
 the nearest way to the landing, and " rounded to," 
 throwing her prow up the stream in fine style, and 
 was cabled and her gang planks run out over the 
 gunwale to the land sometime before the up bound 
 steamer reached the shore. It was amusing to 
 hear the boats' crews exchange salutations and 
 then unite with peculiar gusto in their songs, 
 while each took on the freight as directed. These 
 boats were packets, and both belonged to a line 
 between Cincinnati and New Orleans. Thus the 
 reader will see there was a "Queen and Cres- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 87 
 
 cent Route " long before the days of railroad 
 combinations. 
 
 We were soon comfortably situated in the ladies' 
 cabin. The deep-toned bell rang out the signal 
 for departure. Father bade us adieu with his best 
 wishes for a pleasant trip and a safe return. The 
 gangways were drawn in, the great wheels began 
 to revolve, the boat backed out into the river, 
 turned her prow to the south, and we were afloat 
 on the great Mississippi. The constant quivering 
 of the boat, and her forward movement as the 
 ponderous wheels revolved, were new and delight- 
 ful sensations to me. That there was a sense of 
 danger seemed only to heighten the joy. For a 
 time my attention was absorbed by the magnificent 
 scenery which was constantly coming into view, 
 and changing as the boat sped on her way. The 
 waters were high, filling the channel, and in many 
 places overflowing the low lands. The banks 
 were everywhere covered with living green. From 
 the tallest trees in the background to the sur- 
 face of the water there was unbroken foliage, va- 
 ried in shades of green, as different trees entered 
 into the make-up of the scene. Occasionally long 
 tongues of green jutted out from the shore, far 
 into the great stream. These were willows grow- 
 ing on sandbars, now covered with water. 
 
 As the sun went down one shore was wrapped 
 in voluptuous sunshine, while a deep shade rested 
 on the other. Finally the evening shades crept 
 across the waters and climbed the heights on the 
 
OO SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 Other side, and a spirit of rest came down on 
 everything except the ever restless waters and the 
 swift-moving boat consigned to their mercy. All 
 colors were lost in the dark outlines which indi- 
 cated merely the forms of things on either margin 
 of the river. 
 
 But light, life, and animation prevailed within. 
 The passengers were mostly well to do planters 
 bound for New Orleans on business or pleasure. 
 A few from the cities far up the river lent addi- 
 tional charms to the conversation. It was an in- 
 telligent, cosmopolitan company, talking of poli- 
 tics, religion, literature, business, and pleasure. 
 But good health, satiety of animation, and regular 
 habits invited me to repose, and I was rocked to 
 sleep by a method I had not known before. 
 
 Next morning the scenery along the river was 
 different. Immense levees ran along on each 
 shore, to protect the country from overflows. It 
 was strange and surprising to look down on the 
 growing sugar cane, and to see hands at work on 
 farms that would be under water but for the levees. 
 The boat sped on, and in due time " rounded to " 
 at the landing near where my sister lived. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 In Louisiana. 
 
 OUR reception was most cordial. Captain 
 Johnson and sister were both at the landing 
 to extend a welcome. As they lived only a few 
 hundred yards off, we were soon at their fine resi- 
 dence. In the shade of its broad verandas the 
 breezes were delightful. In the two weeks we 
 spent there I think I must have lived about two 
 years, so vivid were the impressions, so glowing 
 were the emotions ! Everything was new and full 
 of interest. But the one thing that never failed to 
 engage my thought and elicit my admiration was 
 the great river. It lived in my thoughts, and has 
 crystallized in my memory. No other impressions 
 of my visit have been so enduring. It awoke the 
 enthusiasm of my soul, and has been a delightful 
 theme for reflection ever since. 
 
 In those days the commerce of all the upcoun- 
 try, from the Alleghany Mountains westward, 
 flowed through this great steamboat highway. 
 The river was the great artery of Western trade, 
 and was just at that time in full, healthy action. 
 Much of the produce from the head waters of the 
 seminavigable streams had been waiting for the 
 spring rise to find its way to market. Flatboats 
 from the interior had met steam crafts far up these 
 
 fS9) 
 
90 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 rivers, and the rewards of waiting and patient in- 
 dustry were now to be realized. The supphes for 
 the planters, and the summer goods on the way to 
 country and village stores now gave full work, and 
 boats were almost constantly passing. 
 
 What a revel of thought these steamers pro- 
 duced ! Imagination was turned loose, and in- 
 vested the beautiful steamers with sympathetic in- 
 terest. One day — it was a perfect spring day, 
 when all nature united in the production of the 
 best — I was lying prone on the floor of the upstairs 
 veranda. I was looking out on the majestic river, 
 lost in a sense of its grandeur and beauty, when a 
 magnificent steamer came in sight. A few scat- 
 tering trees in the foreground, along the margin 
 of the river, added tone to the picture. The 
 scene was inspiring. The great river was as 
 calm, apparently, as an infant in slumber; yet 
 the swiftly moving trash and foam, showing the 
 sweep and velocity of the current, revealed a 
 mighty energy hidden beneath the unruffled sur- 
 face. It was majestic power in grand repose. 
 
 With the gracefulness of a swan on a placid lake, 
 the boat glided over the waters. I felt my own 
 life en raffort with the manifold life on board the 
 floating palace. There were the passengers, many 
 of them from homes up the country, like my own. 
 Some, probably, were on their first trip, and en- 
 joyed the flavor of novelty, as they drank in the 
 shifting beauty of ever changing scenery. Maybe 
 a boy like myself was on board, with receptive 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. qi 
 
 faculties all ajar; or a little girl like Susie, ab- 
 sorbing the poetry of the passing views. In their 
 new sensations of mingled pleasure and apprehen- 
 sion I felt a kindred glow. Then the boat's 
 crew! What a strange life they lived! This 
 great, mysterious river was their only home. I 
 wondered if the stream held its fascination over 
 their minds, or had it by constant association be- 
 come tame. The roustabouts, who were so often 
 taking on and putting off freights; who loaded 
 cord wood, worked the pumps, and kept generally 
 so busy; I wondered if they loved their work. 
 And the cabin boy, whose youth was spent on the 
 ever moving vessel; I wondered if he ever had a 
 home Hke mine, and where were his father and 
 mother. I felt strangely drawn toward the boy of 
 a strange destiny. Then the great man who had 
 charge of all, the captain; my! wasn't he born 
 to command? How everybody moved when he 
 was about! But to me, the most interesting man 
 of all was he who worked the wheel in the pilot 
 house. From his lofty position, constantly look- 
 mg over the waters and picking out the path of 
 the steamer where no path was visible; he was to 
 me the very genius of progress. Thus I mused 
 till the boat passed by and glided out of sight. 
 
 One bright morning I went out to the river 
 and threw myself on the grass, on the slope 
 of the levee, to commune with things about 
 me. On the other side of the levee, just a few 
 yards away, the waves were breaking in a delight- 
 
92 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ful murmur. In the tree above the birds of rich 
 plumage were singing their sweetest notes. Be- 
 fore me was the home of my sister. The splendid 
 residence, the extensive quarters, the capacious 
 barns, the sugar mill in the distance, and the broad 
 expanse of growing cane spread out as far as I 
 could see, waving in the pleasant breezes fresh 
 from the Gulf. The scene was poetry without a 
 bard, and music without a master. I felt that na- 
 ture was just then tuning all her harps to one com- 
 mon melody, and giving to my spirit's finer sense 
 an unworded song of vast significance; and 
 strange were the echoes awakened in my plastic 
 mind. 
 
 But of all the harps of nature then giving music 
 to my soul, the great river, the harp of a thousand 
 streams, was out of all comparison the most en- 
 gaging. To this music I turned with special de- 
 light. I rose from my place of reverie and took 
 position on the levee, with the broad expanse of 
 waters before me. My eyes feasted on the scene; 
 the river had me fascinated; to give it study was 
 pleasure. In studying the sources of this mighty 
 stream, my geographical knowledge assumed new 
 significance. In this great volume of water, held 
 in abeyance by the narrow embankments of earth 
 on which I reposed and thought, how many great 
 rivers and smaller streams were commingled on 
 their way to the Southern Gulf! From the con- 
 fines of New Mexico, in the Southwest, along the 
 Rocky Mountains to the British possessions in the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 93 
 
 Northwest; from the neighborhood of the great 
 lakes of the North, from New York, in the North- 
 east, the empire State of the North, thence along 
 the Alleghany and Cumberland Mountains to 
 Georgia, the empire State of the South; the wa- 
 ters from all this vast region were gathered here. 
 I never before so fully realized the greatness of 
 my native land. And I felt a young patriot's 
 pride of country. In the imperial domain from 
 which these waters came might be merged a 
 score of European principalities, over whose des- 
 tinies men have fought and heroes have died, and 
 still there would be room for more. The waters 
 from every vapory cloud, the torrents from every 
 raging storm, the tricklings from melting ice and 
 snow, the gurglings from the million springs in all 
 this great country, were here passing by with en- 
 ergy irresistible and yet with murmurings soft as 
 an infant's laugh. Waters collected from the 
 broad prairies, from the mountains, swamps, and 
 forests; from the trails of the buffalo, the war- 
 paths of the Indians, and the furrow of the hardy 
 settlers; from the haunts of the wild beasts and 
 the cities of busy men ; were here singing to me a 
 song of my country's greatness and her noble des- 
 tiny. 
 
 I had a new conception of the vastness and cer- 
 tainty of the Western empire. When this im- 
 mense territory shall have a population equal to its 
 full capacity to maintain, then the flag of ascend- 
 ancy will have crossed the Atlantic and be floating 
 
94 
 
 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 here. Such a country has only to bide its time to 
 rule the destinies of the world. Surely the land 
 of Washington is to be the guiding star of the na- 
 tions. Such were my thoughts that morning as I 
 communed with nature, and drank deep of the 
 prophecy of my country's progress. 
 
 All too soon the time came for us to return home. 
 It was in the early morning we assembled on the 
 levee to await the landing of the steamer. She was a 
 magnificent boat. My heart beat with quickened 
 force as she came up, seeming all the times to in- 
 crease in size, till she stopped at our very feet. 
 We were soon on board ; farewells were said, and 
 once more I was enjoying the strange sensations 
 produced by the steamer's motions. I was glad 
 we were to make so much of the trip this time in 
 daylight. The scenery along the river was beau- 
 tiful, and I never tired of the changing views. As 
 the waters were high, the boat took several short 
 routes called " chutes," thus saving the distance 
 around long bends in the river. In some places 
 the water in these chutes was shallow, and the 
 vessel had to feel her way along. At such places 
 two men with sounding lines, one on either side of 
 the boat, sounded for the bottom. As they stood 
 at the gunwale and threw out the lead they kept 
 up a monotonous cry, "no bottom," "five feet 
 scant," " mark twain," and other phrases I failed 
 to remember. The captain stood on the upper 
 deck and repeated their words to the pilot, with 
 the additional information as to the side of the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 95 
 
 vessel from which the message came. The boat 
 veered as the depth of water was ascertained, thus 
 creeping along the bottom till she passed over the 
 bar. 
 
 I witnessed another method of economizing time 
 by the up-bound steamers. Instead of landing to 
 take on wood, they fastened to the side of the 
 steamer a loaded wood boat kept in readiness at 
 the wood yard for the purpose, and unloaded as 
 they went, till finally the empty flat, with its small 
 crew of two or three men, was set adrift to float 
 back. 
 
 Our boat's crew were all white men. On the 
 boats plying exclusively on Southern rivers the 
 crews were composed mostly of negro slaves. I 
 was told that it was no longer safe for slaves to 
 land in the free states North, and that was why 
 boats plying in those waters employed only white 
 men. 
 
 We reached our landing in the night, and met 
 father, who had come with the carriage ; and next 
 day, by an early start and long drive, we arrived 
 safely at home. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 Going to School. 
 
 AFTER our return from Louisiana life at the 
 old home went on as usual till autumn, when 
 I started to school. Up to this time I had been 
 taught at home. Mother said she had me far 
 enough advanced to risk me in the hands of a 
 teacher. Father said he wanted me to go school 
 to take the conceit out of me. He was of the 
 opinion there was nothing equal to boys to take 
 the conceit out of a boy. Thus one parent was 
 willing for me to begin school because my educa- 
 tion could not now be readily spoiled; the other 
 because it would keep me from being spoiled. 
 Father thought that much of the practical educa- 
 tion which a boy needs to prepare him for useful- 
 ness in life is gained by daily association with his 
 equals. Boys demand of each other fair dealing 
 and evenhanded justice, and are even more 
 ready than men to denounce any undue assump- 
 tion. The petted boy, fresh from the parental 
 roof, is apt to hear things of himself he had not 
 heard before. By the frankness of his compan- 
 ions he may see himself as others see him. 
 
 School life was rather irksome at first, but I had 
 
 been taught to study. I soon saw that 1 had an 
 
 advantage over others who had been going to 
 
 school for some years. I shall always be grateful 
 
 (96) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 97 
 
 to mother for laying the foundation of my educa- 
 tion at home. It was to me a kind stroke of fate 
 that Susie Brantlett began school at the same time. 
 She too had been taught at home, and was right 
 well advanced for one of her age. Her presence 
 was to me a source of joy, a safeguard against 
 mischief, and an inspiration to study. A tender 
 regard for purity is purifying; the admiration of 
 nobility is ennobling. These qualities in Susie 
 were to me a constant reproof and a perpetual en- 
 couragement. Under such influences the man 
 that is in us is constantly struggling, with fair 
 chances of success, to gain the mastery over igno- 
 ble selfishness and contemptible littleness. This is 
 Heaven's method of developing manhood. Thus 
 I gained at school a culture not included in the 
 teacher's curriculum. 
 
 Twice each day the scholars were drawn up in 
 line for spelling. Almost the entire school, with- 
 out regard to age, sex, or proficiency, was in the 
 spelling class. When we stood up in line, we 
 reached entirely across the schoolroom, and had 
 to double round at the foot of the class. The first 
 day we took position by lot. As I was never lucky 
 at games of chance, I drew up far down toward 
 the foot. I was glad to see that Susie was near 
 the head. The first word was missed by the first 
 three spellers. Dick Webb was fourth, and 
 spelled the word quickly, with an air of intelli- 
 gence, and took his place at the head of the class, 
 as one born for the position. Susie was next, and 
 7 
 
98 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 spelled her word with a modesty and independence 
 all her own. There was constant change of place 
 during this first spelling, the good spellers going 
 toward the head, and the bad ones toward the foot 
 of the class. At the close Susie was third, and I 
 sixth. It was evident that there was to be sharp 
 competition for the first place, and that this part of 
 our daily routine was to be very interesting. 
 
 The second morning, when most of the scholars 
 had arrived, and we were waiting for the teacher, 
 Mr. Dunbar, to come and open school, we were 
 surprised to see a strange man and boy come rid- 
 ing up, with evident intention of stopping at the 
 schoolhouse. It was a source of open and inde- 
 corous merriment that they both came on the same 
 horse, the boy riding behind. I knew them at a 
 glance. They were the Hendersons. My first 
 impulse was to speak to the man, and call him by 
 name. But partly from timidity and, it must be 
 confessed, partly from fear of ridicule, I was silent. 
 But I had the indiscretion to tell some of the boys 
 I knew them. At once, with laughter and jeers, 
 the words were bandied around, "These are some 
 of Sam Williams's acquaintances." Dolph Par- 
 ker stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and 
 stepped around like a turkey cock on a plant bed 
 in spring time, as he said; " Sam, why don't you 
 bring up your chum and introduce him?" The 
 laugh that followed was very provoking. I knew 
 I had done nothing to provoke laughter, and I felt 
 my blood boil; but at this time Mr. Henderson 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 99 
 
 came up and inquired if the teacher had come. 
 Adolphus had turned off with an air of contempt, 
 the other boys were chuckhng over his wit at my 
 expense, and I was sulking with indignation. I 
 felt that our silence was rude, and I was turning 
 to speak, when Susie, who had spied the teacher 
 coming over the hill, replied: "The teacher is 
 coming, sir." This was timely and brave. The 
 dread of unmerited contempt was now all gone, 
 and I went up to John and asked if he was coming 
 to school. His replies were manly and straight- 
 forward. He seemed to appreciate the situation, 
 and was drawn toward me because he saw that a 
 right motive had prompted my familiarity. From 
 that hour we were friends. 
 
 Mr. Henderson had come to place his son in 
 school. It was three miles to walk, he said, but it 
 was the best he could do. So John Henderson 
 was enrolled as a pupil. The boys manifested a 
 shyness, if not contempt, for the boy who had to 
 walk three miles to a school, and who wore coarse 
 clothes and brogan shoes. Other boys came as 
 far, but they had horses to ride, and if at any time 
 they wore coarse garments or heavy shoes, it was 
 largely a matter of choice. It matters little what a 
 man wears so everybody knows he could do better. 
 But with John the hard conditions were of neces- 
 sity. He was doing the best he could; therefore 
 he was the subject of dislike and ridicule. 
 
 When the school was called into line to spell just 
 before dismissal at noon, it was to be seen that 
 
loo SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 most of the larger scholars had risen toward the 
 head of the class, while the smaller ones had set- 
 tled toward the foot, so that the class was tapering 
 in size, something like a pig's tail. And when they 
 doubled around at the foot the likeness became 
 still more striking, as it seemed to give the final curl, 
 not for ornament, as on the pig, but for want of 
 room. John, being a new scholar, had of course 
 to take his place at the foot. As he was much 
 larger than any others down there he looked like 
 something stuck on the extreme end of the pig's 
 tail to represent a grand flourish. 
 
 The class had now become more settled. Of 
 course changes occurred, but they were less fre- 
 quent. John missed his first word. Dolph, from 
 his position up near the head of the class, enjoyed 
 this with a savory relish. John was a little embar- 
 rassed, but the miss was not wholly attributable to 
 that. He was rather backward in his studies. 
 His opportunities had been poor. But no boy in 
 school had more resolution and determination 
 stamped on his countenance. 
 
 The contest for the first place in the class was 
 sharp between Dick Webb and Susie Brantlett. 
 Dick was two or three years older; but if he had 
 the mastery, he held it by a very uncertain tenure. 
 Dolph and I kept pretty well together, about sixth 
 and seventh from head. John gained some, but 
 held position near the foot. It seemed to be taken 
 for granted all around that this was in accordance 
 with the fitness of things. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. Id 
 
 On the playground a new trouble arose. Dolph 
 Parker and Dick Webb were selected as cham- 
 pions of the game of ball. They were to choose 
 alternately among the boys until all had been 
 chosen. The choosing went on until every boy 
 large enough to play had been chosen, except 
 John. It was Dolph's time to choose. He made 
 it his opportunity to snub. With an air of super- 
 cilious disdain, he said he had no use for any fur- 
 ther material in reach. Webb proposed to make 
 an exchange and himself take John. But Dolph 
 would hear to nothing of the kind. The boys felt 
 the injustice, and many of them were indignant, 
 but they did not like to have a rupture with Dolph 
 Parker. He was stout, revengeful, overbearing. 
 Besides, he was the richest boy in school. Wealth 
 is very apt to claim some social advantages and 
 exemptions, and such claims are generally allowed. 
 I remembered the brave words of Susie in the 
 the morning, and how I had felt the sting of 
 Dolph's taunt. Fortunately I was on Dick's side. 
 My resignation would make the game even. So 
 I said to Dick: " I don't care to play; I'll pull 
 out and make you even." As I walked off, Dick 
 made earnest protest ; but Dolph, with a contemp- 
 tuous wave of the hand, said: '' Let him go with 
 his equal." I hurled back, in defiance: " If I do, 
 I'll not be found in your company." 
 
 Things had now gone as far as they could go 
 without being recognized by the teacher. I went 
 down to the spring, and, sitting at the root of a 
 
i:02 SAM WILLIAMS; 
 
 tree, in the dense shade of the forest, let the min- 
 istries of nature help to cool down my indignation. 
 I could hear the boys at play, and wondered if 
 they were thinking of John and me. When I 
 thought playtime was nearly over, I went back, 
 going round the playground to the schoolhouse. 
 There I found John poring over his lessons. The 
 sympathetic concern on his face as he looked at 
 me was something to remember. He looked like 
 he wanted to say something, but knew not what to 
 say. I affected to appear as if there was nothing 
 wrong, picked up a book, and pretended to study. 
 But the awkward suspense was soon over, as the 
 bell rang for books. 
 
 John's nearest way home was by our place. 
 Susie went the same way within a few hundred 
 yards of her home. The Aliens (Ben, Joe, and 
 Minnie) went part of the way until their road 
 turned off. Conversation was a little strained 
 that afternoon. The only thing we were thinking 
 much about was the very thing to which we made 
 no allusion. That night I laid my troubles before 
 mother. It was my first conflict with the world. 
 She was much concerned. A difference with any 
 of Col. Parker's family was painful in the extreme. 
 Her manner, put into words, would have run about 
 this way: "Why, he's the richest man in the 
 neighborhood! Then, this poor boy, who is he?'* 
 She was evidently troubled. She believed I had 
 done right, but shrank from the situation as some- 
 thing to be deplored. Father was made of sterner 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. IO3 
 
 Stuff. He said: "Son, do right, all the way 
 through, and you will come out all right." This 
 advice I determined to follow. 
 
 Next day I went to school with some apprehen- 
 sion. I was fully determined that I would not be 
 a party to any unjust ostracism of John Hender- 
 son. But I did not wish the ill will of any of the 
 boys. I therefore looked forward to the playtime 
 with crreat solicitude. In school I had no time to 
 think of troubles to come. It seemed but a short 
 while when we were called up to spell, and then 
 dismissed for dinner. When we had eaten, we 
 were a little surprised and much gratified at the 
 offer of Mr. Dunbar, the teacher, to join us in our 
 game of ball. He was at once nominated as 
 champion. Dolph was selected as the other. 
 They threw up "heads and tails" to see which 
 should have first choice. This fell to the teach- 
 er. Having taken position as if reviewing the 
 whole group of eager boys, he paused as if mak- 
 ing up his mind, and then chose John Henderson. 
 The surprise was intense. Dolph looked like a 
 thunderbolt had barely missed him. Instantly the 
 the boys saw the whole meaning, and the approba- 
 tion was so hearty that they gave round after 
 round of cheers. This rebuke was so timelv, 
 and had such happy effect, that contempt for the 
 poor boy was not shown again, openlv, for 
 several months. INIeanwhile, John made rapid 
 progress in his studies. In fact, in about three 
 months it began to appear that it would require 
 
104 
 
 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 extraordinary diligence to keep ahead of him. He 
 had long ago left the foot of the class and had been 
 several times at the head, while the general aver- 
 age in his studies was very respectable. This 
 rapid advance brought John into general favor, 
 was gratifying to the teacher, and quite mortifying 
 to Adolphus Parker. 
 
 One feature of the school was of special inter- 
 est. This was the lecture. Every Friday after- 
 noon was taken up by lectures, speeches, decla- 
 mations, and dialogues. The teacher generally 
 took part. These lectures were designed to pro- 
 mote useful reading. Literature, criticism, philo- 
 sophical and scientific inquiries were the topics. 
 Books, new and old, were commented on. To 
 many of us this was the most stimulating exercise 
 in the whole school. It provoked inquiry, stimu- 
 lated thought, and led to general reading. In a 
 few years we became acquainted with the merits 
 of English literature. The names of the great 
 authors became as familiar as household words. 
 We knew when and where they lived, and some- 
 thing of what they thought and wrote. 
 
 It did me good to see the effects of these lec- 
 tures on John Henderson. It was like the coming 
 of an ardent and long-baffled lover to the one who 
 possessed his soul entire. The flash of the eye, 
 the flush of interest on the face, the eager satisfac- 
 tion so visible in every movement, as new ideas 
 flashed into his mind, was a wonder and a spur to 
 me. If knowledge was worth so much to John, 
 why should it be worth less to me ? 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 Prosperity. 
 
 DURING all these years while I was growing 
 and learning, one thing constantly impressed 
 my mind. It was the fact that the country was all 
 the time growing richer. The slaves continually 
 increased. Troops of young negroes on our place 
 were every year recruiting the field hands. The 
 children with whom I used to romp and play and 
 hunt rabbits went to the field about the time I 
 started to school, and were now able to do the 
 work of full-grown hands. These had been pre- 
 ceded by others, and were followed by an ever 
 increasing flow. 
 
 So on all the neighboring plantations. Constant 
 outdoor work developed fine constitutions. The 
 muscles were so trained to labor that by the time 
 the negroes were fifteen they were efficient hoe 
 hands. This constant recruiting of the hoe force 
 from beneath was followed by a corresponding 
 promotion of the larger boys to the plow. A boy 
 felt a new importance when he could walk straight 
 between the plow handles, and have a mule to ride 
 to and from his work, with the additional privilege 
 of feeding and grooming. The plow force was 
 the measure of importance and respectability. 
 A planter was frequently spoken of as having a 
 
 (105) 
 
I06 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 force of so many plows, ten, twenty, or forty 
 plows. These were the degrees of dignity and 
 the measures of credit. These numbers helped to 
 rate the value of his children in the matrimonial 
 market. They were a fair index to the number of 
 bales of cotton he could place on the market the 
 coming winter. 
 
 Nearly every year new hands were purchased. 
 These were bought from dealers, who kept up a 
 lively trade by buying slaves from the border 
 states, where their labors were less profitable, and 
 selling them down here at a fair profit. Thus, 
 with the natural increase, and the influx of new 
 hands, the working force of the country was rap- 
 idly growing, year after year. 
 
 New lands were cleared to make room for the 
 larger force, The forest disappeared, and the 
 fields spread still wider over the country. Where I 
 used to catch rabbits in the thickets fine crops of 
 cotton now grew. Each year the number of cot- 
 ton bales reached higher figures. The wagon 
 trains had to be increased, and kept longer on the 
 road. Such was the pressure to get the crop to 
 market, such the hurry to get off with another load 
 every time the wagons returned, that I thought 
 Jack did not enjoy his preeminence as he did in 
 the early times. The bells on the mules were neg- 
 lected; the wagons looked more worn and bat- 
 tered; the wagoners had lost much of their glee. 
 
 The love of wealth had evidently grown with the 
 increase of riches. There was more stir, more 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I07 
 
 push, more anxiety, all centering in the greater ef- 
 fort to make still larger crops. This was natural. 
 Wealth creates its own desires, erects its own stand- 
 ards, and demands tribute, in some form, from 
 every one. Wealth gets to be the standard of mer- 
 it and the passport to honor. 
 
 It was during our school years at the academy 
 that a great industrial revolution took place in the 
 country. It was the building of railroads. An 
 important road was constructed through our sec- 
 tion. This new power brought still more changes. 
 The important cities had now the means of quick 
 and safe transportation. Small towns sprang up 
 at the depots, and inland cities began to grow at 
 important points. The markets came to our very 
 doors. 
 
 Jack's trade went down. No more wagon trains, 
 with tinkling bells. No more camping out. No 
 more telling of long stories by bright camp fires at 
 night, while the mules are munching their feed 
 and the owls are hooting in the neighboring wood. 
 No more great loads of groceries to be stored away 
 as a whole year's supply. No more new stories of 
 the great river and the fine boats. Jack must 
 henceforth, like a retired soldier, content himself 
 with rehearsing the adventures of the glorious past. 
 We may pardon a sigh for the return of the better 
 days, but to Jack those days will come never 
 again. 
 
 With the roads came brisker trade, more travel, 
 more dress, more fashion. The newspapers had 
 
I08 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 greater circulation. With them came a more inti- 
 mate acquaintance with other locahties, and a 
 more general knowledge of the world. Life was 
 quickened. Old methods seemed slow. Steam 
 was now employed for milling, and in some in- 
 stances took the place of mules for ginning. 
 
 The domestic industries, such as spinning and 
 weaving cloth at home, greatly declined. Goods 
 from the large factories became cheaper than they 
 could be made at home. A woman's time was 
 now worth more in the fields than at the wheel or 
 loom. All available force was employed to make 
 cotton. To grow cotton, to make money, to buy 
 negroes to grow cotton, was the regular orbit into 
 which the industry of the country had fallen. In 
 the wild rush after wealth men not only used all 
 the money they could make to purchase additional 
 slaves, but in many instances used their credit 
 also for all it would bring. Under the spur of 
 such influences the country seemed to be on the 
 road to prosperity, and to move forward with a 
 bound. 
 
 An innovation which had already obtained in 
 other places took place about this time in our 
 neighborhood. It was the custom of hiring over- 
 seers, a custom hated by the slaves, and one 
 which greatly increased their labors and lessened 
 their mirth. Of course it would be unprofitable 
 to hire an overseer unless the farm made an addi- 
 tional amount to pay his wages. This meant more 
 work, earlier to the field, and later to the quarters. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. IO9 
 
 It meant dissatisfaction, and often running away, 
 on the part of the slaves. The planters themselves 
 did not much like the custom, but it relieved them 
 of annoyance, and gave more time to talk politics 
 and save the country. 
 
 During all these years the controversy in regard 
 to slavery waxed warmer with each campaign, and 
 sometimes the interest grew so warm that there 
 was scarcely a lull, even between the elections. 
 Prominent men, aspiring to high office, became 
 eloquent in demanding our " rights." Everyman 
 who wanted the people's votes constituted himself 
 the champion of the people's "rights." He ap- 
 peared uninvited on the field, as another Don 
 Quixote, ready to do or die for our "rights." 
 But the more our rights were defended, the more 
 restless people became. The newspapers were al- 
 ways ready to come to the rescue, and many were 
 the learned " leaders " on the all-absorbing theme 
 of our " rights." Meantime, while the hustings 
 and the tripod, with equal zeal and discretion, were 
 taking care of our "rights," the country was 
 growing richer every day. 
 
 Finally the theme was wonderfully intensified by 
 the crack of the Sharp's rifles in Kansas, followed 
 by the Brown raid on Harper's Ferry, in Virginia. 
 These things had the smack of earnestness, and 
 served to give a very sharp point to the discussion. 
 The " peculiar institution " of the South now had 
 the ear of the nation, not to say of the nations, 
 and was of world-wide interest. The parties to the 
 
no SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 great controvesy on either side were growing more 
 confident and more defiant. They could afford to 
 be defiant, as they were usually about a thousand 
 miles apart. But the excitement was assuming 
 colossal proportions. The battle of the giants was 
 on the boards of fate, and events mdicated an ear- 
 ly rise of the curtain. 
 
 Now all these things did not disturb me in my 
 quiet studies in the academy. They are mentioned 
 here to show how the country was advancing in 
 making money and taking care of our " rights " 
 while I was advancing in my studies and on to 
 manhood. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Still AT School. 
 
 THE years passed and changes came to us as 
 well as to our school. We grew in size and 
 in knowledge, and the school grew in numbers 
 and in usefulness. Another and better house was 
 added. This was appropriated to the girls. A 
 lady of fine accomplishments was placed in charge. 
 Better methods gradually prevailed, and better 
 work was done by the students. Our teacher was 
 a master in his business, and our school became 
 one of the best. 
 
 During the vacation John Henderson worked 
 with his father at the carpenter's trade, that he 
 might have the means of continuing^ at school. 
 This was the cause of extreme disgust on the part 
 of Dolph, and a few others like-minded. But 
 John's position at school was no longer doubtful. 
 Merit wins, the world over. John felt the need of 
 education, and was putting the sweat of his brow 
 into the culture of his brain, and felt that he had 
 no time to be idle. Dolph soon found that John 
 was pushing him on every line of study. John 
 was a spur to us all. But Dolph seemed to regard 
 it as an infringement of time-honored prerogative 
 for this " poor upstart " to pass him in his studies. 
 He seemed to think that wealth ought to give him 
 
 (111) 
 
112 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 the advancement without the labor of brain. But 
 if Dolph's disposition grew murky, John's did not 
 become sour. 
 
 He was one of the brightest, most cheerful, and 
 manly boys in school. As the years went by he 
 grew in manly beauty as well as in all the accom- 
 plishments of the mind. It is hardly necessary to 
 say he was one of the most popular boys in school. 
 First in play, first in study, first in the hearts of his 
 companions. Thus he had at least some resem- 
 blance to the great " father of his country." For 
 one to be a leader in any group, community, or 
 nation, he must excel in what his fellows want 
 most to do. John met these requirements ; he was 
 foremost in study and in every sport on the play- 
 ground. It was in the third year after we entered 
 school that Dolph's continued dislike for John 
 came to an open rupture. John was then about 
 sixteen, and Dolph was about one year older. 
 The boys had fallen into the habit of abbreviating 
 a great many words, especially each other's names. 
 In this they were simply following the genius of 
 their mother tongue. The tendency is to shorten 
 words, and to use short words in preference to 
 long ones. This is seen in nearly all the best 
 writers of the language. Words of half a dozen 
 syllables have a slim chance to live in English. 
 The Latin races may delight in long, sonorous 
 words; the Saxon never. Well, one day on the 
 playground, when the game of ball was at its high- 
 est pitch, John, wishing to get the ball in time to 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. II3 
 
 cross out a boy on the opposite side, in the glow of 
 excitement shouted to his companions : ' ' There it is 
 by Dolph Park ! ' ' Dolph straightened himself 
 up to his full height, and swelling his breast out to 
 its largest dimensions, exclaimed; " I'll have you 
 to know, young upstart, my name is not Dolph 
 Park." John was so intent on the game that he 
 did not see that Dolph had taken offense, and 
 went right on playing till his attention was directed 
 to Dolph. Then in the most complete good hu- 
 mor, in the abandon of excitement, while his face 
 wore a hearty smile, he said: " What is it, Dolph 
 Park? " Thus unwittingly he committed the same 
 offense the second time. Dolph's anger was at 
 white heat. He almost hissed the words: "111 
 make you know, you scoundrel, my name is not 
 Dolph Park." John was taken completely by 
 surprise. The colors chased each other over his 
 countenance for an instant, then the look of deter- 
 mination which was habitual to him when in ear- 
 nest settled down to about a three-ply thickness 
 on his visage. He faced his wrathful assailant and 
 with a bow of mock humility and obeisance, and 
 with manner and tone most defiant and provoking, 
 he replied: "Mr. Adolphus Parker, your humble 
 servant begs a thousand pardons." The manner 
 was so dignified and the ring of the voice so sig- 
 nificant that the boys gave a lusty cheer. This was 
 the " unkindest cut of all," for Dolph most highly 
 prized his influence over the boys. This, he saw, 
 was about to be lost. He was furious. But just 
 
114 ^-^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 then the bell rang for books, and that ended the 
 matter for the time. 
 
 That evening as we were going home, when we 
 reached the fork of the road where the Aliens 
 were to leave us, we were thrown into a state of 
 perturbation by the rapid approach of Dolph Par- 
 ker along the road on his pony, overtaking us. 
 Dolph frequently rode to school. He had done so 
 that day. It is evident that he stayed about the 
 schoolhouse till all were gone, and then set out to 
 overtake us. There was no time to do anything, 
 not even to get Susie and Minnie out of the way. 
 John saw we were all excited, and asked us not to 
 interfere, but to let him manage the case. He was 
 so calm, and talked so much like business, that we 
 were all tolerably well assured, and awaited 
 events. I had made up my mind to interfere if 
 necessary to prevent John from being badly hurt. 
 Feeling some concern, I looked around for Susie, 
 but found she was about as much composed as 
 any of us. 
 
 When Dolph came up he dismounted with a 
 most self-conscious flourish. "Well, Mr. Hen- 
 derson," he began, "I feel it my duty, sir, to ad- 
 minister to you a severe chastisement." This 
 speech had evidently been prepared for the occa- 
 sion. It was delivered with a pompous air, in ac- 
 cord with the pompous language. That's the way 
 his father talked. He was putting on the parental 
 style with as little regard for fit as if he were don- 
 ning the parental wardrobe. The average school- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. II5 
 
 boy never talks that way. His language on such 
 an occasion would have been, " I'm going to give 
 you a lickin' " or *' one of us has got to be 
 whipped." Not so Dolph; he was to administer 
 *' chastisement." 
 
 When John saw that a iight was inevitable, the 
 same determined look settled on his face. His 
 eye was a study. He assumed the same manner 
 of mock humility. His voice was so near the nat- 
 ural tone that one not well acquainted with him 
 would be in doubt whether he meant what he 
 said, or the exact opposite. He pleaded that the 
 rules of school forbade fighting; that fighting was 
 not to his liking; was not the best way to settle 
 difficulties; and that no offense was intended on 
 the playground. Dolph replied: ** Think not, sir, 
 that your pusillanimous hide can escape through 
 the regulations of the school. Offended honor 
 knows no such regulations." Without further 
 parley, as if afraid his resolution would escape 
 through his long words, he made at the object of 
 his wrath. John partly dodged and partly parried 
 ** the intended blow with his left hand, while with 
 right he planted a clear square blow right about 
 Dolph's ear. The blow came straight out from 
 the shoulder, and with such force that Dolph stag- 
 gered under it. This advantage was followed up 
 with blows which came so fast and with such ef- 
 fect that Dolph was completely unnerved. He 
 could do nothing but stagger about, and would 
 have fallen had not John checked up. Seeing 
 
Il6 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 that Dolph could make no further resistance, he 
 stopped. "Why, Dolph," he said, "is this the 
 way you administer chastisement? Is this the way 
 pusillanimous hides are tanned in your shop? I 
 suppose offended honor is now satisfied." But 
 Dolph had no time for chatting just then. He 
 made for his pony, which, by the way, had fed off 
 at some distance, wholly unmindful of his master's 
 adventures. Never was a boy more surprised 
 than Dolph. He was older and larger than John. 
 To "administer chastisement" to him was evi- 
 dently considered mere pastime. But John's right 
 arm had not pushed the jack plane and wielded 
 the handsaw and hammer for nothing. There 
 was in his make-up a combination of mind and 
 muscle that was admirable to witness. 
 
 After Dolph left we held a counsel and agreed to 
 keep the fight a secret, provided Dolph said noth- 
 ing about it. Next morning Dolph was in school 
 like nothing had happened. Fortunately, his 
 bruises were not hard to hide, and no one had any 
 suspicion of the fight. I never knew anything to 
 improve a person like that whipping improved 
 Dolph. He almost became amiable ! His polite- 
 ness and deference to John were shown on all oc- 
 casions. To the few who had and kept the secret, 
 this was a source of constant amusement. 
 
 By the fourth year of our school life John was 
 fairly ahead in all studies. He was an earnest 
 speaker, a shrewd debater, and an exact thinker. 
 He was a recognized leader in all our mental 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. II7 
 
 labors. The speaking every Friday afternoon 
 proved to be of great advantage to us all. We 
 learned to express our thoughts readily and with- 
 out embarrassment. On these occasions the two 
 departments were brought together. The pres- 
 ence of the girls was a great stimulus. Likewise, 
 when the girls had concerts, as they did nearly 
 every week, we were not only expected to be pres- 
 ent, but to take part in the singing. Every girl 
 was taught music. To perform well was regarded 
 as the highest accomplishment. Therefore the 
 girls were put to music early, and kept at it 
 throughout the school course. When they were 
 sent off to finish their education, as was often the 
 case, it meant mainly some extra touches in music. 
 With or without talent the girl must be taught to 
 perform on the piano. It was the universal ac- 
 complishment. 
 
 The years passed rapidly, and almost before we 
 were aware of it we were ready to begin our last 
 year at the academy. The boys in my classes 
 would be ready at the end of the year to enter 
 college. But John, to be able to go to college, 
 found it necessary to spend at least one year at 
 work with his father. This was a great hardship. 
 There was danger that he might not be able to 
 stand his examination. To lose a whole year out 
 of school just at this time was most unfortunate. 
 John was greatly perplexed, but not discouraged. 
 Poverty is inexorable, but John's resolution was 
 equal to the emergency. He determined, by study- 
 
Il8 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ing at night and at odd times, to keep up with his 
 class while working at his trade, and thus, in spite 
 of difficulties, to be ready to enter college with his 
 class. Whenever opportunity offered, the teacher 
 was to give him help. 
 
 Mr. Henderson found very profitable work erect- 
 ing cotton presses and building ginhouses. This 
 year he had a contract to make important addi- 
 tions to Maj. Allen's dwelling. In all these labors 
 John was his most eflicient help. 
 
 This last year of our academic life passed with- 
 out any special or unusual interest. Dolph was 
 now about nineteen, well grown; pompous in ap- 
 pearance and language, and evidently enjoyed a 
 very high opinion of himself. I think he was 
 really glad John had quit school. An unpleasant 
 reminder was thus removed. Then it left him the 
 semblance of his old superiority. 
 
 Meanwhile Susie was growing more and more 
 beautiful. This was a cause for congratulation. 
 This was not to be taken as a matter of course. 
 Feminine growth does not always follow this rule. 
 Indeed, whether it is the rule or the exception for 
 pretty girls to make beautiful women, is an open 
 question. The celebrated budding period, when 
 the girl begins to bud and blossom into woman- 
 hood, is often the period that brings out hidden 
 tendencies which soon develop into ugliness. The 
 class of pretty " Preps." will not, by any means, 
 turn out a class of uniformly beautiful graduates. 
 Some will be too low, some too tall, others will be 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. II9 
 
 too thin, while yet others will be too stout. Some 
 will be stooped and others angular. Some will 
 have rough complexions or coarse features, while 
 a very few will be faultless both in figure and feat- 
 ures. Such was Susie. She had, from the first, 
 been a diligent student, and had taken on accom- 
 plishments as by natural affinity. 
 
 Dick Webb had maintained a high standard 
 throughout. Dolph was at least respectable in his 
 average standing as a student. The brightest one 
 of us all was John Henderson, struggling against 
 hard fate and by extra efforts bringing up his stud- 
 ies in a manner, so the teacher told us, to be able 
 with the rest of us to enter college. 
 
 Finally, the academic studies were completed. 
 The last day of the school came, and the teacher 
 had all the boys in my class to come forward to re- 
 ceive his farewell advice. At the close of a good 
 lecture, he assured us we were now ready to enter 
 college. We all felt a new sense of importance. 
 We were sure that fortune was getting ready to 
 open her finest gate for us to enter. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Vacation. 
 
 WE entered upon this vacation with special 
 rehsh. It was more to us than others had 
 been. It was the gap between our Academic and 
 College studies. We had now arrived at the age 
 when the genus homo begins the important task of 
 putting off the boy and taking on the man. This 
 is done on the principle of natural development, 
 somewhat in the same manner that the batrachian 
 reaches his growth, by throwing off and sending 
 out. We were now throwing off our boyish natu- 
 ralness and sending out beards, the latter of 
 rather slow growth. 
 
 I was now eighteen. Up to this time, life, to 
 me, had been as limpid as a mountain brook, se- 
 cluded from freshets and fed by perennial springs. 
 The one purpose had been to get onward. To 
 reach manhood seemed to be the fruition of all 
 hope. I was now on the borders of that myste- 
 rious and long-anticipated period, yet I cannot 
 say that I felt like one who was approaching a 
 haven of perfect satisfaction. The long-desired 
 country was just before me, but obscuring clouds 
 and mists hung over the landscape. A tremor of 
 uncertainty and something like the shadow of a 
 doubt toned the buo3^ancy of my expectations. 
 " 'Tis ever thus" when the fondest hope, the 
 C120) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 121 
 
 sweetest anticipation of life has not yet become a 
 settled reality. 
 
 Susie Brantlett was sixteen, and was as lovable 
 as she was beautiful. The graces of culture were 
 visible in every feature, and added charm to every 
 movement. The elasticity of health was in every 
 finely chiseled member. In her clear blue eyes 
 was the perfect blending of softness and brilliancy. 
 Her hair was dark, soft, and abundant; and when 
 she wore it flowing, it was indeed a charm of love- 
 liness. The delicate tracery of veins made visible 
 by the transparency of her complexion gave prop- 
 er finish to superior beauty. Hers was a face in 
 which all emotions were plainly visible. She was 
 moderately tall, of medium size, well-formed, 
 erect, splendidly poised. Her voice was clear, soft, 
 musical. The delicately finished hand was a thing 
 of beauty. She was a lady of the finest type, and 
 Southern in every fiber of her nature: a true 
 representative of the type so much admired by 
 Southern men. Of course she was a general fa- 
 vorite. This was gratifying, and yet, it was a 
 source of uneasiness. Her beauty and her intel- 
 lect, so dear to me, made a prize which others 
 would attempt to possess. The very thought was 
 like a sword of double keenness. The very fact 
 that we were soon to be separated was a source of 
 constant anxiety. I was to go to college and she 
 was to attend a "finishing school." I could not 
 but hope that this would not be the blighting of 
 my fondest aspirations. 
 
122 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 During this vacation I became conscious that a 
 great poHtical excitement was agitating the coun- 
 try. Men seemed unusually restless. Gatherings 
 were more frequent. Public speaking was epi- 
 demic. The great Democratic party, for the first 
 time in its history, had two candidates in the field 
 for the presidency. This divided neighbors whose 
 political opinions had always been the same. The 
 party became two contending factions. Each fac- 
 tion claimed to be the true party, and tried by ar- 
 guments, earnest and vociferous, to convince the 
 other. But the noisy disputants only served to 
 make the division more complete. Each faction 
 became more confirmed by controversy. All par- 
 ties were trying to save the country. This was 
 the theme on all occasions, the speakers becom- 
 ing more vehement and abusive as the magnitude 
 of the undertaking became more apparent. 
 
 Col. Parker was an important speaker. He was 
 going to have his " rights." He had suffered out- 
 rages too long already. Patience was no longer a 
 virtue. One day at the village store, when several 
 neighbors had met, he was, as usual, waxing warm 
 on this theme. Mr. Brantlett,''in a very quiet tone, 
 requested him to name the rights of which he had 
 been deprived. He was going to have the right, 
 he said, to carry slaves into any part of the Union 
 without danger of molestation. He was deter- 
 mined that the people of the South should have 
 the right to establish slavery in any territory with 
 perfect impunity. Mr. Brantlett replied that by 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 23 
 
 such agitation we were in danger of losing the 
 right to keep slaves at home. But this only pro- 
 voked a storm of invectives, and for the sake of 
 peace among neighbors Mr. Brantlett said no 
 more. 
 
 The very young men, like myself, Dolph Par- 
 ker, Dick Webb, and the Allen boys, left the sav- 
 ing of the country to the older heads, while we 
 tried to have the best time possible. We frequent- 
 ly had impromptu gatherings at each other's homes. 
 In fact, such meetings were necessary to take up 
 our spare time. True, we could fish or hunt or 
 attend political meetings, which were very plentiful 
 and stormy. We attended church nearly every 
 Sabbath. A good deal of time was taken up in 
 reading. Still we had ample time left for social life. 
 
 One beautiful summer day we met at Maj. Al- 
 len's. Susie Brantlett and Julia Parker were pres- 
 ent. Music and conversation were made doubly 
 sweet by the exuberant life and buoyant hopes of 
 youth. It is not strange that we were having a 
 delightful time. But there was one thought con- 
 stantly present which brought something like a 
 tinge of sadness tQ my mind. It was the fact that 
 John Henderson, who had so long been our chum, 
 was hard at work in our hearing. The spacious 
 residence was receiving important additions, and 
 the Hendersons were doing the work. I had 
 learned to appreciate John's noble qualities so 
 highly that his isolation from our society made 
 me sad. 
 
124 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 The parlor door opened out on a pleasant veran- 
 da. By the most natural impulse we all walked 
 out to enjoy the cool breeze and look at the flow- 
 ers. Just beyond the fence which divided the 
 back yard from the front, and in easy speaking 
 distance, we saw John, in his shirt sleeves, soiled 
 with labor, carrying on his shoulder long planks 
 to be used in the building. I did not look to see, 
 but suspected that Dolph's lip was curled in scorn. 
 I heard him ask Miss Minnie if she was not an- 
 noyed by the carpenters. There was a peculiar 
 accent on carpenters. I thought I discovered a 
 slight blush on Miss Minnie's face, as she replied: 
 " No, I rather like the noise, and I frequently go 
 in to see the work progressing." Dolph bit his 
 lip and said no more. 
 
 But if I felt commiseration for John, he certain- 
 ly seemed to feel none for himself. In a suit evi- 
 dently kept for the purpose, he appeared at the 
 dinner table, the gayest of the gay. Not one of 
 us could talk with more intelligence. It seemed 
 strangest of all that he could come from rough 
 work into our circle without the least embarrass- 
 ment. He did not underestimate himself because 
 of hard conditions. Nor did he overestimate oth- 
 ers on account of accidental advantages. 
 
 His manners were exceptionably fine. He was 
 ever watchful for the convenience and happiness 
 of others. In those delicate attentions and in the 
 chaste and elegant conversation so much appre- 
 ciated by ladies, he was especially gifted. He 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I25 
 
 told US how he was progressing with his studies, 
 and that he was hopeful of being able to enter 
 college with the rest of us. Mrs. Allen commend- 
 ed his diligence in overcoming difficulties. His 
 reply was characteristic: " One who receives little 
 from the labor of others needs to be doubly dili- 
 gent in his own labors." 
 
 When dinner was over, and while we still lin- 
 gered at the table, John rose from his seat, re- 
 marking that it was time for him to go to work, 
 and, asking Mrs. Allen to excuse him, took leave 
 of us with a dignity that would have done honor 
 to Chesterfield. 
 
 In the afternoon Dolph and Minnie strolled 
 among the flowers in the front yard. Dick Webb 
 and Julia Parker found retreat in the summer 
 house, while Ben and Joe solaced themselves with 
 books or a nap. This left me alone with Susie. 
 I thought she never looked so beautiful. Her vi- 
 vacity was perfectly charming. She was as cor- 
 dial as I could expect, but somehow I felt that she 
 was more distant. I felt my own manner re- 
 strained. The truth is, we were no longer chil- 
 dren. Susie was now a young lady. This very 
 fact seemed to make her coy, and made me awk- 
 ward. I realized that, without any estrangement 
 of feeling, an invisible barrier had risen between 
 us. I began to see that a woman cannot be claimed 
 on the ground of preemption. Though we had 
 been playmates from earliest childhood, and though 
 the tenderest feeling had always existed between 
 
126 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 US, she was now as free as she was lovely, and 
 must be wooed and won if she was ever really to be 
 mine. Every woman wants to be courted before 
 she consents to be married. When she makes the 
 most important gift that a woman can make, the gift 
 of herself, she wants to feel that it is by her own 
 volition and in response to the most earnest and 
 honest solicitation. We walked among the shrub- 
 bery and toyed with the flowers, unmindful that 
 the long afternoon had passed and that the evening 
 shadows were already settling down upon us. 
 Her every movement was a model of grace; her 
 words were more than music; her laugh was the 
 ripple of ecstatic sweetness. I felt that she was 
 the very soul of purity, the essence of loveliness. 
 To possess her was to have an inestimable gift of 
 Deity. I instinctively felt that to bring anything 
 less than the purest motives to such a shrine as 
 this would be wounding to the highest attributes 
 of my nature. In the glow of this love my ideal of 
 life was heightened, and I had a higher concep- 
 tion of womanhood and manhood than ever before. 
 To measure up to this ideal, and become worthy 
 of the object of my adoration, and to possess this 
 treasure of womanly loveliness, was the resolve 
 deep down in my nature that quiet evening. 
 
 With such feeling and such resolve life had now 
 a new meaning and a grander purpose. In a 
 dream of ecstacy I returned to my home after es- 
 corting Susie to hers. That night I slept on the 
 borders of enchanted ground which must be akin 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 27 
 
 to heaven. Next morning in the very exuberance 
 of life I walked through the forest and seemed to 
 have a sweeter communion with nature than 
 ever before. Why I went toward Mr. Brantlett's 
 the reader can probably guess, but I did not set 
 out with that intention. To go by there would 
 probably have been the nearest, or at least the best, 
 way anywhere. I took that direction, and kept it, 
 till I found myself passing the house. To my 
 great joy, I saw Susie, even at that early hour, out 
 in the flower yard. In her straw hat and white 
 apron, her cheeks aglow with the fresh air and 
 busy work, I thought that of all the daughters of 
 Eve she was surely the most beautiful. The 
 flowers were gay with rich profusion, rejoicing in 
 the morning light. In vain they tried to rival the 
 beauty of the nymph divinely fair, who was teach- 
 ing them the art of superior loveliness. It was a 
 picture not to be disturbed, and so I passed by un- 
 noticed. Under the inspiration of that hour my 
 thoughts fell into rhyme, and this was the result: 
 
 My Nymph among the Flowers. 
 
 When lovely summer's finest tone 
 
 Had deeply touched the leafy bowers, 
 
 The poet's charm was o'er me thrown 
 By my sweet nymph among the flowers. 
 
 The morn in beauty's fairest sheen 
 Had wrapped this lovely land of ours, 
 
 And walking forth in nature's green 
 I saw my nymph among the flowers. 
 
 The shades of light in dewdrops glowed, 
 The birds made music in the bowers, 
 
128 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 And life's sweet symphonies there flowed, 
 Around my nymph among the flowers. 
 
 And nature's beauties climbed to sight 
 
 Like corals in the ocean's dowers, 
 And greeting, filled the waving light 
 
 Around my nymph among the flowers. 
 
 In vain their charms of beauty flowed, 
 In grass or blooms or leafy towers, 
 
 The sweetest of life's graces glowed — 
 My lovely nymph among the flowers. 
 
 Of all that's i-are by nature brought. 
 
 When winter's storm no longer lowers, 
 
 There's naught compares with that that's wrought, 
 In my fair nymph among the flowers. 
 
 What if the poet, lucky shrimp! 
 
 While pleasures speed on golden hours, 
 Does charm and hold that lovely nymph, 
 
 The nymph I saw among the flowers. 
 
 And now my little song I'll close, 
 And leave it to the fair one's powers, 
 
 To guess both where and when it was 
 I saw my nymph among the flowers. 
 
 But should she wish to see the elf, 
 
 She need but try the mirror's powers. 
 
 And there she'll see the nymph's own self. 
 The nymph I saw among the flowers. 
 
 It was charming to witness the shy blush which, 
 in spite of her effort to conceal, spread in lovely 
 wavelets over Susie's features as she read these 
 verses, and pretended not to know who was meant 
 by the "Nymph among the Flowers." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Mr. Wilson. 
 
 DURING this vacation the young men were 
 pushing forward a social revolution that for 
 some time had been progressing. It was no less 
 than getting the young ladies out of the aristocratic 
 family carriages and taking them to church in sin- 
 gle buggies. Why this had not been done all the 
 time, I do not understand. But having a taste of 
 the better method, we, by persistence, so far suc- 
 ceeded as to carry our point, and the girls too. 
 So I had the inestimable privilege nearly every 
 Sabbath of escorting Susie out to church. 
 
 The young men had now two reasons for attend- 
 ing divine services. First, they could have the girls 
 with them, going and returning. It must be con- 
 fessed that this was a potent reason. We were 
 now all punctual church-goers. I was especially 
 zealous ! But, in the second place, the earnest elo- 
 quence of our new pastor, Mr. Wilson, was at- 
 tracting great attention. This is saying much, for 
 just at that time it was difficult for anything outside 
 of politics to gain much notice. It was well to 
 have something to divert the mind from the all-ab- 
 sorbing themes of the hustings. 
 
 The lectures at school had especially prepared 
 us to appreciate Mr. Wilson. Mr. Dunbar v/as 
 9 (129) 
 
130 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 himself a lover of nature. He had pointed out the 
 existence and all-pervading influence of her laws. 
 He had dwelt on her beauty and unfolded to our 
 minds the relations of her forces. Thus the desire 
 for knowledge had by being partially satisfied be- 
 come doubly eager. 
 
 Mr. Wilson's capacity for presenting ideas in at- 
 tractive form was truly wonderful. He was re- 
 markable for breadth of view and beauty of image- 
 ry. Whatever his theme, he never failed to catch 
 the rays of relation which showed connection with 
 all else. Faith, repentance, conversion, or holy 
 living, did not stand off isolated. These were acts 
 and relations in perfect accord with all life and all 
 being. We touch and are touched by the infinite 
 variety, and are parts of the grand unity which 
 embraces all. Spiritual life is as much in accord 
 with the universe as natural life. He claimed that 
 it is misleading to say natural life as distinguished 
 from spiritual, for all life is natural. 
 
 One sermon impressed me ver}'- much. It was 
 the "Vision of Divine Glory, or the Picture of 
 Providence," based on the first chapter of Ezekiel. 
 I was surprised that so much thought and beauty 
 could be drawn from the prophecy of Ezekiel. I 
 had thought that the book Avas well symbolized by 
 its own valley of dry bones ; but, listening to Mr. 
 Wilson, I concluded that the dryness was in my 
 own mind. The prophet, he said, was in captivi- 
 ty; his own land and venerated city were in ruins; 
 the chosen people languished under the rod of the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I31 
 
 oppressor. It was natural that he should study the 
 mysteries of Providence. By the river of Chebar 
 he was engaged in the most intense devotion. His 
 mind was all aglow with the prophetic fire. He 
 was prepared to see visions. A whirlwind, the 
 harbinger of revelation, came out of the north. 
 He saw a cloud the color of amber, having the ap- 
 pearance of fire infolding itself. The fiery cloud 
 seemed to be dissolving, but still kept entire. 
 Such is providence. Things seem to be held with 
 an unsteady purpose. Apparent wastes are every- 
 where seen. Chance and accident seem to fall to 
 the lot of men, and largely to influence the course 
 of things. Yet nature holds entire. 
 
 Nothing, however small, ever falls out of na- 
 ture's grasp. Combinations are forever changing. 
 Organisms grow and decay. Old races die out 
 and new ones spring into life. But nature never 
 grows old. She loses none of her freshness, none 
 of her potency, by the lapse of ages. When vast 
 eras pass before the mental vision, and we see that 
 the wholeness of nature is still unimpaired, we per- 
 ceive that chance and accident have no place in 
 the allotment of things. As the eye of the mind 
 passes along the ages, we take in the great fact 
 that laws stronger than fate and gentler than an in- 
 fant's breathing control everything in the domain 
 of being. As the grand procession of things 
 marches along by us, the mind is impressed with 
 the absolute unity of all that exists. A combina- 
 tion of purposes is perceptible in all being. 
 
132 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 In the cloud was the appearance of four living 
 creatures. These were cherubim, symbols of 
 divine glory. They were composite beings to de- 
 note the different qualities of divine government. 
 Each had four faces: that of a man, a lion, an ox, 
 an eagle. These indicated intelligence, strength, 
 patience, movement. Such are the elements of 
 providence. Intelligence that never makes mis- 
 takes, never experiments; strength that never 
 fails ; patience that never wearies ; and movement 
 never out of time. 
 
 By the living creatures were wheels whose 
 height was " dreadful." There was the appear- 
 ance of a " wheel in the middle of awheel." Na- 
 ture is orbital, circular, globular. The worlds 
 move in orbits; life and being have circulation; 
 matter naturally forms into globes. Good words 
 and works go forth to bless the world, and then 
 return in blessings to those who sent them forth. 
 Efforts to injure others are apt to return, like the 
 boomerang, on those who gave them horrid birth. 
 Thoughts and actions, like chickens, come home 
 to roost. In these circles of influence all human 
 lives are ground to powder or rounded into gems. 
 
 Above the crystal was a throne of sapphire, and 
 on the throne the appearance of a man. Here is 
 the symbol of enthroned intelligence and control- 
 ling power. All things bear testimony that they 
 are controlled by one power. A power which dis- 
 plays intelligence infinite, looking to the ultimate 
 good of all. Through all the mysteries and intri- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 33 
 
 cacies of nature, we catch glimpses of purpose, 
 " a labor working to an end." 
 
 From such "stepping stones" of thought the 
 mind adores the God of all. 
 
 Such are the main thoughts of the sermon. 
 The impressive tones of voice, the enforcing ges- 
 tures, the flash of the eye, and the personal mag- 
 netism of the man are all lost on paper. The ser- 
 mon was a tonic, a means of grace to the body as 
 well as to the soul. I felt the effects on myself, 
 and noticed them on others. The step was more 
 elastic, movements more springy, the manner more 
 animated, more graceful. 
 
 The sermon was followed by a love feast, at 
 least so far as I was concerned, for I took Susie 
 with me in the buggy, and was soon lost to all else. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Plum Creek Church. 
 
 ^/^NE Saturday morning, while with small pros- 
 V^ pects of success I was casting about for a 
 pleasant way to spend the day, I was greeted by 
 the cheerful salutation of John Henderson, " Good 
 morning, Sam. Well, old chum," and his voice 
 with merriment rang, " we have knocked off for 
 the week, and I'm going home. Mr. Wilson 
 preaches at our church to-day, and I have come to 
 invite you home with me, and we can attend 
 church." 
 
 "Certainly, John," I replied, "I am delighted 
 to go with you." Calling Dick to saddle my 
 horse, I invited John to a seat in the hall, while 
 I made ready to start. 
 
 We were soon on the way. At once there was 
 a complete change of scenery. The broad level 
 fields of growing crops were left behind. Hills 
 and valleys, or " hollows" as we called them, all 
 covered with heavy forest, while wild flowers and 
 singing birds added charm to the deep shade; 
 such was the scenerj'- through which we rode. 
 
 Youth is always in S5'mpathy with the woods. 
 This may be a trait which has survived since the 
 time when our ancestors lived in the wilds of un- 
 disturbed nature. Inherited instincts play an im- 
 (134) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I35 
 
 portant part in every human life. The instincts of 
 wildness inherited from remote times, are felt 
 more in childhood and youth, while the later tenden- 
 cies to civilization come to us in our maturer age. 
 
 Riding over these giant hills and down into the 
 deep, narrow vales, feasting the eyes on the wild 
 luxuriance of nature, and inhaling the soft air of 
 summer, we felt all the zest of life and glow of 
 health. Our studies in botany came to our aid in 
 giving names to the plants we saw. 
 
 In a deep valley, where the forest was unusually 
 dense, and the rich vegetable mold of ages, like a 
 soft carpet, sank deep beneath the feet, we found 
 a rare and beautiful flower. It was a " lady's 
 slipper." Moved by a common impulse, we made 
 a perceptible halt to admire this gem of the woods. 
 It hung like a tiny lamp of beauty, in pleasing con- 
 trast with the deep, somber shade. Here was a 
 place to muse and talk; a place where the pleas- 
 ant fellowship of congenial minds was softened 
 and elevated by the wider communion of nature. 
 It was a restful place; a place where Pan, in an- 
 cient times, might have inspired his devotees; or 
 where, in later ages, fairies might have danced with 
 delight. 
 
 Looking back over the experience of the past, it 
 appears to me that life and responsibility never 
 rested with lighter burden on the mind than on that 
 bright morning of my ride with John through the 
 woods to Plum Creek Church. But even then the 
 brightness was not without a shadow. By some 
 
136 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 occult law of our nature, something like a veil of 
 sadness seems to wave always in conscious near- 
 ness to our minds, even in the seasons of our most 
 untarnished delights. A sense of unrest, it may 
 be a prophecy of evil to come, casts a shadowy 
 tinge of sorrow over the brightest scenes and 
 sweetest experiences of life. 
 
 The people who attended church at Plum Creek 
 were a study to me. They contrasted strangely 
 with the congregation at Conway Chapel, only a 
 few miles away. No fine carriages with likely 
 drivers were on parade. Most of the people came 
 on foot; some on horses, often two or three on 
 the same horse. In some cases the head of the 
 family, with two or three boys, came afoot, while 
 the family, packed on the family horse, came slow- 
 ly on behind. Some families came in wagons. 
 Some of the men who walked came in their shirt 
 sleeves, carrying a thin coat which looked like a 
 strip of cloth or a napkin, thrown across the shoul- 
 der, ready to be donned before going into church. 
 
 The boys and girls were brusk, ruddy, and shy; 
 manifesting in their easy awkwardness a strange 
 mixture of timidity and independence. They act- 
 ed as if oppressed by a sense of rudeness, and yet 
 animated by a feeling that worth is greater than 
 polish. 
 
 The people met and commingled with very litde 
 ceremony. There was an absence of all studied 
 politeness. They seemed to be wholly natural, 
 and did and said things as whim, fancy, or feeling 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 137 
 
 prompted. As compared with the people at Con- 
 way, I made these observations; 
 
 They had broader faces and thicker bodies. 
 They had larger waists, and were consequently 
 nearer the same size all the way from shoulder to 
 hip. They were more angular both as to body 
 and features. Civilization long continued tends to 
 change the shape of the body, as well as the char- 
 acter of the mind. It gives a finer chiseHng to the 
 features, and a milder color to the complexion. It 
 has a decided tendency to raise the forehead and 
 retire the cheek bones. To give the mouth a 
 backset, and the back head a forward drive. It 
 gives to the general outlines more symmetrical 
 curvatures, giving more of a heartlike shape to the 
 bust. All this is working the animal out and 
 working manhood up. Civilization, so some of the 
 wise men think, is the sea on which the race is 
 drifting away from the monkey type. Their man- 
 ners were more eccentric, and consequently gave 
 greater variety. Each was a law unto himself 
 when it came to manners. Their speech was un- 
 cultivated ; consequently retained its unsophisticat- 
 ed force. About Conway the gentility perspired 
 this warm weather; down here, at Plum Creek, 
 these fellows "sweated," because it was hot. A 
 small percentage of the people about Conway had 
 auburn hair and pimples ; down here a larger per 
 cent, were red headed and freckled faced. 
 
 In fact there were two civilizations here side by 
 side; one based on slave labor, highly cultured, 
 
138 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ease-loving, and self-satisfied; the other strug- 
 gling with free self-labor, stinted, restless, and 
 and without the means of culture. 
 
 As I have since learned, similar conditions might 
 have been found in many places throughout the 
 country. There was a marked difference between 
 the planters who worked slaves, and the small 
 farmers who worked in competition with slavery. 
 All the best lands had been bought up for slave la- 
 bor and the hills and narrow valleys left to the " po' 
 white trash." Between these populations there 
 was very little communication, and less sympathy. 
 All these facts did not occur to me that day while 
 I was watching with keen interest the people who 
 were my near neighbors, and yet very distant 
 strangers. They have come to me as the result of 
 further observation and study. I have noticed 
 that different localities, with different conditions 
 of soil and surroundings, have people of different 
 individualities. But for the fact that people are 
 constantly changing localities, neighborhoods of 
 people would be as different from each other as 
 are the localities where they dwell. 
 
 I was much interested in the conversation of the 
 elderly men. The directness and the quaintness 
 of their talk was to me novel and amusing: " How 
 goes it, Brother Shaw? " <' Just middlin', Broth- 
 er Smith; how's all your folks?" "Wall, able 
 to eat all they can git." "How's the craps?" 
 *?A11 settin' up, 'ceptin' the late corn; that's 'bout 
 gone up the spout." 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 39 
 
 This, with much more similar talk, occurred out 
 in the church yard in the shade of a tree, while 
 the congregation was gathering. It was at least 
 refreshing to get where the political elements were 
 not stirred, and to lind men who had something to 
 do besides saving the country. The sisters in the 
 house were having a lively time, discussing the 
 neighborhood gossip, while among some the snuff- 
 box was slyly circulated from hand to hand. 
 The young men were mostly content to cast sly 
 glances at the rustic maidens, while the maidens 
 took refuge behind their mothers, as if they 
 thought it would be a bold sin to be looked at too 
 closely. Finally the hour for preaching came, as 
 did also the preacher. There was now a hush; 
 the old brethren all had on their coats ; gossip was 
 allowed to rest; all traces of the snuffbox were 
 smoothed out; and all seemed ready to enter on 
 the serious business of the occasion. Mr. Wilson 
 was evidently a favorite here, as among the more 
 cultured congregations. A feeling of eager ex- 
 pectancy animated the entire assembly. The 
 preacher's theme was the supreme law of God: 
 *' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
 and with all thy strength;" and "Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbor as thyself." This law of love 
 has two divisions, expressive of our twofold obli- 
 gations; to love God and to love man. The full 
 extent of our capacity is the measure of our obli- 
 gation to love God. The love of self is the meas- 
 
140 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ure of obligation to love our fellow-man. Self- 
 love is the measure of fellow-love. The obliga- 
 tion is put in another form, which may make it 
 easier to be comprehended. "As you would that 
 men should do to you, do ye also to them like- 
 wise." The simple requirement is that love to 
 our fellow-man should be wholly unselfish. This 
 meets the whole case, solves all the difficulty. A 
 man blinded by selfishness cannot understand the 
 law. Eliminate selfishness and a man would natur- 
 ally practice the requirements. Let all the rela- 
 tions in life be regarded as reciprocal, and always, 
 when it is your time to do, put self in the other 
 place, and then do to the one in the other place as 
 self would in that place like to be done by. 
 
 It is in accordance with the eternal fitness of 
 things that the supreme law should be the law of 
 love. The least thought will convince us that this 
 is right and best. Love is the strongest, gentlest, 
 and most enduring quality of which we can be 
 possessed. To make our eternal welfare hinge on 
 its exercise is therefore the policy of both infinite 
 wisdom and supreme goodness. It is the one 
 thing that we can do best, and best continue to do. 
 It is the one thing in the doing of which we are 
 most highly blessed. 
 
 This law expresses our natural and only safe re- 
 lation to both God and man. It is the law that 
 can never be replaced by another. It exactly 
 meets the case. In all the thoughts of Supreme 
 Wisdom there can evidently be nothing better, 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I4I 
 
 nothing wiser. It is the law that must be supreme 
 in any world, even in the highest heaven. Through 
 all time and throughout all space where created in- 
 telligences live, this is the first great law. It was 
 born with the creation of the first responsible be- 
 ings, and must continue while such beings con- 
 tinue. Its observance is eternal life, its violation 
 is eternal death. 
 
 These thoughts, made attractive by the beauti- 
 ful imagery and enforced by impassioned eloquence 
 made a deep impression. These " common peo- 
 ple heard the message gladly." I never saw a more 
 appreciative audience. Though I think they were 
 enthused not so much by the literary, as by the 
 moral beauty of the sermon. They drank in the 
 truth with a relish which must have been a source 
 of inspiration to the preacher. He evidently 
 preached with more feeling here than he was ac- 
 customed to do at Conway. Good hearers have a 
 powerful tendency to make good speakers. 
 
 When the services were over, and John and I were 
 on the way to his home, I asked him why they had 
 preaching on Saturday. He said: " It is because 
 the Sabbaths are claimed by the wealthy churches, 
 such as Conway Chapel and New Prospect. It 
 does look strange, and a little hard, too, to have 
 preaching all the time on Saturdays down here, 
 where everybody has to work ; and all the time on 
 Sundays in the wealthy neighborhoods, where 
 people have nothing to do but go to church every 
 day in the week, if they wish to. But," he 
 
142 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 continued after a moment's pause, " they pay- 
 nearly all the expenses, and it is probably right. 
 At least, the people down here, who can pay the 
 preacher but a little, feel like they have no right 
 to complain. The preaching on Saturday is worth 
 a great deal more than they can pay." 
 
 " So it is still true," I replied, " that the poor 
 have the gospel preached to them, provided they 
 can find time to lay aside their toil and go out to 
 church during work days." 
 
 John smiled, and invited me to alight, for we 
 had now reached our stopping place. 
 
 The true nobility of John nowhere appeared to 
 better advantage than in his own home. The 
 years of study at the academy and the superior 
 brilliancy of his own mind had given him a polish 
 to which the rest of the family were entire stran- 
 gers. It was beautiful to witness the loving sim- 
 plicity of manner by which he drew them to him- 
 self, effectually preventing even the beginning of 
 any caste barrier between him and them. I learned 
 from their conversation that John had been in- 
 structing the children and furnishing them with 
 useful books. John at home was not a case of 
 the diamond in the ash bank, but rather like a 
 precious aromatic imparting its own fragrance to 
 all surrounding objects. 
 
 Having spent a pleasant day, I returned home 
 in the dusk of evening. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 Our Vacation Ends. 
 
 AS the summer wore on, the political firmament 
 became overcast with the signs of the coming 
 storm. Agitation became more general. The 
 speakers gathered momentum from their own ve- 
 hemence. 
 
 Never before was there such a clamor for 
 " rights." Public speakers wanted " our rights." 
 Newspapers demanded "our rights." Groups 
 of earnest men in consultation said that we must 
 have "our rights." There was speaking on all 
 occasions, and nearly all of the same kind, a 
 cry for "our rights." The men who felt that 
 "our rights" had not been invaded, or who 
 thought it prudent to accept the present situation 
 rather than risk the consequences of so much ex- 
 citement, had nothing to drive them to the same 
 earnestness. Their protests were mild, and con- 
 sequently disregarded. 
 
 All the anger, passions, vehemence of a most 
 stormy campaign were expressed in the one word, 
 " OUR RIGHTS." Our rights must be maintained at 
 all hazards. The man who will not contend for 
 his rights is a coward or a fool. Nobody wanted 
 to be considered either. Conservative men grew 
 doubtful and weakened in their purpose. Men 
 
 (143) 
 
144 
 
 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 who disliked pressure went with the current rather 
 than try to stem its force. The prolonged agoniz- 
 ing cry for "our rights" was gaining additional 
 volume every day. " Rights, rights, rights ! Give 
 us our rights or give us death ! " 
 
 A few men saw danger ahead and tried by wise 
 and temperate council to call a halt. They were at 
 last aroused to a sense of danger. The love of 
 country, the blessings of peace, the evils of agita- 
 tion, the dangers of division, the fate of other na- 
 tions were all pleaded, but in vain. As well try to 
 stop an avalanche. The movement was constantly 
 gaining momentum. 
 
 The constant agitation became painful. There 
 was unrest throughout the country. The feeling 
 would have been more depressing but for the gen- 
 eral belief that the excitement would die out after 
 the election. Whatever the result, it was hoped 
 that the minority would submit, and that things 
 would resume their usual course. There would 
 then be no further cause for contention. In this 
 hope my fears were somewhat quieted. 
 
 It was now time to get ready to leave for college. 
 With mingled feelings of expectancy, hope, and 
 fear I went about that duty. I was to go to Vir- 
 ginia. This was good. I wanted to see the old 
 state, the home of my ancestors. Then I wanted 
 to travel, as I had been but little from home, and 
 had seen but little of the world. College life also 
 had its charms. I had looked forward to this as the 
 crowning period of young manhood and the door 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I45 
 
 to all honors beyond. I was glad of the prospect 
 of collegiate honors and advantages. 
 
 But the separation from home and Susie was re- 
 garded with a feeling of sadness. I could in due 
 time return with welcome to my home. But my 
 claim upon Susie was not so well established. Al- 
 ways with this thought came something like an 
 aching care close about my heart. Then, in spite 
 of all my reasoning and efforts to assure myself to 
 the contrary, a dread of disaster to the country 
 grew heavy upon my mind. So many prophecies 
 of evil, spoken with so much earnestness, were 
 enough to cast a gloom on the horizon of the fu- 
 ture. 
 
 But if the distant future appeared misty, I had at 
 least the privilege of looking at it through a silvery 
 sheen, the nearer lining to the distant cloud. Such 
 is life. The brightness is never without a shadow, 
 the darkness is never without a glimmer of light. 
 The silvery lining that was now so bright to me 
 consisted mainly in the fact that I was to take 
 Susie as far as Nashville, where she was to " fin- 
 ish." This was especially gratifying. It was an 
 evidence of confidence on the part of her parents, 
 which I thought stood for a great deal. Then we 
 were to spend one more Sabbath at home, and I 
 was to take her out to Conway Chapel. 
 
 I was in serious doubt, just at this time, whether 
 
 it was best to avow my love to Susie and ask her 
 
 to be mine. As it would be a long time before we 
 
 were to be out of school, I was afraid that the pro- 
 
 10 
 
146 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 posal would be considered premature, result in 
 postponement, perhaps indefinite, and might 
 weaken my chance of ultimate success. Then, 
 unless my suit should meet with prompt and favor- 
 able response, it might interfere with my taking her 
 to Nashville the next week. This I could not but 
 regard as a calamity. So halting, doubting, trust- 
 ing, misgiving, I wavered for awhile in poise be- 
 tween desire and prudence, and finally concluded 
 to abide my time for a more auspicious opportuni- 
 ty. I was in sight of the pearly gate of my earth- 
 ly paradise, but was afraid to sue for admittance. 
 
 Sunday morning was delightful, and so was 
 Susie. As I escorted her from the door of her 
 beautiful little home that bright morning, I am 
 sure that my eyes never before feasted on so much 
 loveliness. Her conversation was vivacity put to 
 music. Her smile was the play of sunshine over 
 the ripples of my agitated nature. Her presence 
 was like a rainbow of promise to me amid the 
 stormy elements of our political sky. Driving 
 with her to church through a country unusually 
 blessed with growing abundance, and the smile of 
 peace resting on all the landscape, it seemed to me 
 that our rights could hardly be in danger. And 
 especially did it appear that a country so blessed 
 with peace and so highly favored with heaven's 
 rich abundance could never become the scene of 
 cruel and bloody war. 
 
 A dashing turnout came into the road just 
 ahead of us. It was Dolph at his best. He was 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I47 
 
 dressed in unusually fine style. His span of 
 horses fairly glistened in the sun, while his silver- 
 mounted buggy became a reflector to all surround- 
 ing objects. This was evidently a special occasion 
 with him, as it was with me. He was going with 
 Miss Minnie out to church, as I was going with 
 Susie. "A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous 
 kind." I felt like extending the hand of fellow- 
 ship with hearty good wishes for the success of 
 us both. 
 
 Mr. Wilson was in his happiest mood that morn- 
 ing. His subject was, " The Presence of God in 
 All His Works," based on the idea several times ex- 
 pressed in the Bible: " God is all in all." He held 
 that God could not be absent from anything or 
 any place; that he is actively present everywhere, 
 and because of that presence the appropriate work 
 of nature goes on ; that the proof of his presence 
 is inherent in every phase of being. The laws of 
 nature are his methods. Their force is his force, 
 working out the ends of nature or providence. 
 The divine force, that which sustains the universe, 
 is but the action of divine will. " He spake, and 
 it was done; he commanded, and it stood fast." 
 Nature is God's thinking made visible. 
 
 Such laws as polarity, gravitation, cohesion, and 
 motion are inherent in the divine plans, because 
 they express the exactness of the divine mind. 
 Because of their interacting forces, everything, 
 from the largest world or system of worlds to the 
 smallest mote or atom, is in its right place and doing 
 
148 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 its appropriate work. In this great physical uni- 
 verse, this divine thinking made visible, we see 
 dovetailing into every part the evidence of spirit- 
 ual existence. 
 
 We see everywhere evidence of a first great 
 Cause. Not a primordial force by which things 
 exist, but evidences of a spiritual personal being 
 with intelligence and individuality. Not the soul 
 of nature, but of a Being infinitely greater than 
 nature; one who by filling nature full, loses none 
 ©f his personality ; one whose individuality would 
 remain unhurt if all nature could be destroyed; 
 one sufficient to animate a million universes, or 
 remain just as great without an atom of matter. 
 
 Can we believe that the universe consists only 
 of matter? Our minds instinctively shrink from 
 such an idea. The unbiased mind naturally be- 
 lieves that matter could never have been without 
 an adequate cause for its existence. But granting 
 its existence, there is manifestly nothing in it to 
 produce all the life, thought, and spirit that we see 
 and feel about us. There can be no cause for 
 these things, except in the one Supreme Intelli- 
 gence. Our minds are absolutely insulted by an 
 invitation to believe less. 
 
 The God whose image is reflected to our minds 
 from the beautiful fabric of nature has all the at- 
 tributes of wisdom, power, and spirituality to stand 
 as the eternal cause of all that ever did or ever can 
 exist. In him there is no tendency to waste or de- 
 cay. The laws of his nature work to eternal sta- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 49 
 
 bility. The making of worlds does not make him 
 less; their decay does not add to his greatness. 
 He remains ever the same, unchanged amid all 
 changes. 
 
 He changes not, because absolute perfection is 
 essentially unchangeable. We are commanded to 
 strive after alike perfection. "Be ye therefore per- 
 fect, even as your Father which is in heaven is per- 
 fect." It is the will of God that we should always 
 advance toward his perfection. This cannot be if 
 decay is the ultimate law. Therefore we are invited 
 to the belief that some of the laws of God tend to eter- 
 nal advancement. That there is a realm where the 
 laws work not to decay, but to eternal life. Such 
 laws secure immortality. The boundary is between 
 the natural and the spiritual. All organisms in the 
 domain of nature tend to ultimate decay; all in 
 the spiritual domain tend to perpetual existence. 
 When the laws of spiritual life are not violated, the 
 being lives in happiness coeternal with God. 
 
 Would not an eternal God desire eternal crea- 
 tures? It is certainly reasonable that he should. 
 The more like himself they become, the better he 
 would be pleased. The desires of God become 
 fixed realities. If it is reasonable to believe that 
 God desires such beings ; it is still more reasonable 
 to believe that such beings do and must exist. 
 
 To my mind the belief in God is a mental neces- 
 sity. I cannot believe in an intelligent and spirit- 
 ual universe such as I am in contact with every 
 day, without believing in an intelligent and spirit- 
 
150 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 ual God. Then it is easier to believe that this God 
 would surround himself by immortal beings, par- 
 taking to some extent his own nature, than it is to 
 believe that he remains forever alone amid the rise 
 and decay of transitory beings who could only, as 
 through a glass darkly, catch glimpses of his glory, 
 utter feeble praises for a moment, and then pass 
 into silence forever. The existence of God im- 
 plies the existence of immortal beings to adore that 
 God. 
 
 Thus reason and revelation combine to establish 
 the main points of religion, the existence of God, 
 and the immortality of man. The immortality of 
 man implies spiritual relations, a spiritual domain, 
 governed by spiritual laws. The word ' ' universe 
 should be extended not only to embrace the physi- 
 cal, but also the spiritual, in one harmonious 
 whole. There is no impassable gulf fixed between 
 the physical and the spiritual. What we know of 
 the perfection of the laws of nature warrants the 
 belief that a like perfection pervades the entire 
 unlimited domain of God. " God is all in all." 
 This applies to all and makes a unit of all. The 
 spiritual and physical are one complete harmony 
 of existence. What we want is a genius broad 
 enough, with towering mind and vigorous faith, 
 whose hand of cunning, trained to methods wise, 
 shall be able to sweep all the chords of wisdom, 
 and show the harmony in all the works of God. 
 
 Such were the main thoughts around which the 
 preacher wrapped the beautiful sheen of poetic 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I5T. 
 
 verbiage, and held us in the thraldom of attention 
 rapt and sweet. After services there was more 
 than the usual amount of social good feeling, in 
 which country congregations are apt to indulge. 
 So many young people were now to leave for col- 
 lege, it was a time for general hand shaking and 
 farewells, with good wishes. Susie, Minnie, and 
 Julia, to say nothing of the half dozen young men, 
 were now mingling with friends before a long sep- 
 aration. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 Off for College. 
 
 LIKE an April cloud which weeps in the sun- 
 shine, and gives the beautiful bow of prom- 
 ise, such was Susie the morning of our departure. 
 Her smiles and tears sported with each other, as 
 lilies laugh and weep in the summer shower. The 
 mental picture which I received of her that morning 
 has been a souvenir of joy in many a hard hour 
 since. In regard to the gambols of smiles and 
 tears, Susie was not specially different from her 
 companions. But the smiles rapidly gained the 
 ascendency, and brightness held the sway. We 
 were a company of gay and light-hearted young 
 people, with just a flash of transitory sadness. 
 The homes we left were as bright and cheerful as 
 were ever blessed by nature's genial sun and 
 showers. 
 
 With never a thought of disaster, or a sigh for 
 endangered rights, we boarded the train and were 
 off to our places of studv. Dolph Parker, John 
 Henderson, Dick Webb, Ben and Joe Allen, and 
 I, were bound for college in Virginia, while Susie 
 Brantlett, Minnie Allen, and Julia Parker were 
 going to " finish " in Nashville. 
 
 Railroad travel was new to us. The rapidity 
 with which we sped over the country seemed to us 
 (152) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 153 
 
 perfectly marvelous. The sensations were new 
 and exhilarating. I remember how vivid was the 
 impression that the land outside the car window 
 was running back. Fields, fences, trees, and 
 houses seemed to be flying past. But as I looked 
 farther out this apparent motion ceased ; a center 
 was reached, and the distant landscape was mov- 
 ing with the train. The land had an eddying or 
 cyclonic motion. The great broad fields seemed 
 to be winding round and round. The size of the 
 eddy varied with the different landscapes. 
 
 A question sprang in my mind that morning 
 which has often since come up for consideration 
 and still waits an answer: What is to be the effect 
 of this rapid and easy transportation over hill and 
 dale on the mental constitution of man in the 
 coming ages? How it adds to the continuity of 
 view ! How it aids in generalization ! It is a new 
 and mighty factor in the acquisition of knowledge. 
 What is to be the effect on the thinking faculties? 
 None of the great thinkers of the world ever sat by 
 a car window and saw the world flit by them. 
 Will the future thinkers show the effect of rail- 
 roads in their mental wares? Will their reason be 
 more accurate, or their poetry more sublime ? Will 
 their conceptions of truth be broader, or their 
 tastes more refined? What is to be the literary 
 product of a railroad civilization? 
 
 But why should I be musing in speculations like 
 these while Susie is here to claim my entire atten- 
 tion? Aye, certainly she is here, and must have 
 
154 ^^^^ WILLIAMS; 
 
 my attention. But why is it that we so often let 
 our talk run in one channel and our thoughts in 
 another? When conversation assumes a many- 
 cornered phase, so that all parties can take a hand, 
 as we do in "town ball," one can give a few 
 strikes or catches when it comes his turn, and still 
 have time for speculation. Youthful wit and wis- 
 dom were playing a high game, and I could pitch 
 a thought, or strike at an idea, or miss a meaning, 
 especially the latter item, with as much facility as 
 the rest, and still have time to observe the passing 
 scenes and muse on their meaning. 
 
 The scenery through which we passed was of 
 the most familiar kind. The country was mainly 
 devoted to cotton. Vast fields joined each other, 
 presenting to view miles and miles of cotton farms. 
 The plants at this season were three or four feet 
 high, and spread so as to meet in the " middle of 
 the rows," thus completely shading all the ground. 
 The bolls near the ground were open, and picking 
 had begun. The white bolls, green leaves, and 
 yellow or red blooms presented a variegated ex- 
 panse of vegetable luxuriance peculiar to the 
 South. Nothing approaching to this in magnitude 
 v/as to be met with in any other land. It was a 
 vast sea of green, underlaid with white, and sprink- 
 led all over with yellow and red. 
 
 While I was making these observations on the 
 country without, the play of wit and wisdom still 
 ran on within. But both were disturbed by a con- 
 versation near by, which had for some time been 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I55 
 
 growing louder and more earnest. Some gentle- 
 men were discussing the problem of supreme im- 
 portance: the political situation of the country. 
 The group was constantly growing larger, as one 
 after another left his seat and went up to take part 
 in the discussion. This had gone on till now most 
 of the men in the car were drawn into close and 
 earnest debate, each one more desirous to speak 
 than to listen. 
 
 Only two of the men were for Douglas. One 
 of these, as I gathered from the boisterous dispute, 
 was a Douglas elector, and he had with him one 
 faithful friend. All the rest, save one elderly gen- 
 tlem.an, evidently "an old line Whig," who was 
 for Bell and Everett, were for Breckinridge and 
 Southern rights. 
 
 "I tell you, gentleman," cried the elector in 
 earnest and excited tones, "we must not be sec- 
 tional. No sectional man can be an acceptable 
 President to the whole people. Mr. Douglas is a 
 national man, and a true representative of the old 
 national party." 
 
 To this there v/as a vociferous reply by at least 
 a half dozen eager disputants, each trying to get a 
 hearing. The replies were nearly all of the same im- 
 port. But the one who spoke the loudest is the one 
 whose answer I remember. He was a man of com- 
 manding mien; face florid; eyes prominent; wore 
 side whiskers; and gesticulated vehemently. He 
 said: "Mr. Breckinridge is not sectional. He is 
 national, because he is for the Constitution. No man 
 
156 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 is national who does not demand the enforcement of 
 the Constitution, with all the rights in that instru- 
 ment guaranteed to us by the fathers. We want our 
 rights under the Constitution, and we intend to 
 have them. We demand the repeal of all laws 
 contrary to the Constitution. The man who is the 
 friend of these unconstitutional laws is purely sec- 
 tional. Mr. Breckinridge is opposed to all uncon- 
 stitutional and sectional laws, and stands for the 
 untrammeled Constitution now and forever." 
 With this he brought his fist down on the seat 
 with a striking emphasis. 
 
 " I grant you, " replied the elector, " that Mr. 
 Breckinridge is for the Constitution as we all inter- 
 pret that instrument. But he is the nominee of a 
 section, he is supported by a section, and is re- 
 garded by all out of that section as a sectional can- 
 didate, and as such cannot be acceptable to the 
 whole people. We must grant something to the 
 views and feelings of people in all parts of this 
 great republic." 
 
 " Yes," retorted he with the side whiskers, " we 
 have yielded to these abolitionists until they have 
 grown so fanatical that they no longer have any 
 regard for our rights, or even for the Constitution 
 by which these rights are protected. We should 
 yield not another inch. The time has come to de- 
 mand our rights." Again the fist came down as 
 if to drive the idea home with tenfold force. 
 
 Just here the elector by a gesture and attitude of 
 peculiar earnestness, secured a hushed and re- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I57 
 
 spected attention, as he replied with a calmness in 
 his voice which indicated clear and decisive con- 
 viction: "I tell you, gentlemen, you mistake the 
 strength of the enemy. If we fail to elect Mr. 
 Douglas, Abraham Lincoln will be the next Presi- 
 dent of the United States." This fairly raised a 
 howl of indignation. "The idea! the man 
 who is the representative of only a small fanatical 
 faction, the man whose party hates the Constitu- 
 tion because it protects Southern rights." But 
 the elector, still composed, managed to project 
 another sentence into the confusion. "If we set 
 the example," said he, " of voting for a man who 
 represents our interests and views, and who is sup- 
 ported by no other section of the country, we 
 should not be surprised if we are beaten at our 
 own game." 
 
 Just at this point in the controversy the whistle 
 blew a halt. This was not intended for the argm- 
 ment, though it had the good effect to bring it to 
 a close for the present. The brakeman on the 
 platform began working vigorously to slow up the 
 train. No air brakes in those days. So after 
 much tugging at the brakes, the train finally came 
 to a stop, with laborious jars and thumps. 
 
 We had reached a town where there was to be a 
 joint political discussion, and our disputants began 
 to make preparations to leave the train. A vast 
 and excited throng was awaiting the arrival of the 
 train. Hats and handkerchiefs were waving in all 
 directions, while from hundreds of throats came 
 
158 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 the cry, repeated again and again: " Hurrah for 
 Breckinridge! Hurrah for Breckinridge!" I 
 really felt sorry for our elector. Looking over the 
 vast crowd outside, he could hear but few and 
 feeble huzzas for Douglas. But almost immedi- 
 ately a committee of reception sprang into the car 
 to bid him welcome. 
 
 The elector v/ent out with his friends and for a 
 moment stood on the platform, looking down on a 
 sea of upturned faces. He was a fine specimen of 
 cultivated manhood. He was at once greeted by 
 a good-natured laugh. As the leader of a forlorn 
 hope, the innate love of fair play came to his relief. 
 This great assembly of politicians evidently felt 
 that they had nothing to fear from the cause that 
 he was representing, and could afford to be mag- 
 nanimous. A volunteer spokesman in the crowd 
 seemed to express the general feeling when he 
 said: " Come on. Colonel. We admire your grit, 
 and will give you a hearing." The great throng 
 surged away toward the place where the speaking 
 was to begin. 
 
 After this we had a lull in the political discus- 
 sion. But all along the way there were evidences 
 of great excitement. The people who came on 
 the train talked politics. At all the stations were 
 groups of men in earnest consultation ; and when- 
 ever we overheard a remark to indicate the topic 
 of interest, it was sure to be politics. The whole 
 country Was agitated as never before on a similar 
 occasion. It was on the eve of a most eventful 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I59 
 
 election, and people felt that the destinies of the 
 country were largely concerned in the result. 
 
 In those days railroad travel was not so rapid, 
 and connections not so close as at present, and we 
 were more than two days reaching Nashville. 
 But this appeared to us as marvelously fast trav- 
 eling. Besides, we were in no hurry. We were 
 young, free from care, and fond of each other's 
 company. Travel was new and delightful. There 
 was no reason why we should hurry through 
 scenes where we might linger with delight. We 
 had plenty of time. Time with us had always been 
 plentiful, because we had always been supplied 
 with all that was necessary for our well being. 
 When desires outrun ability, then time is scarce 
 and valuable. The chase after these desires gets 
 many people into a rapid race through life. The 
 man whose wants are supplied has ample time. 
 How few such men ! 
 
 We had plenty of time ! In view of experience 
 since, how strangely this sounds ! How delightful 
 it is to have plenty of time ! O for the occasion 
 when I can let loose the tissues of exertion, and 
 once more float with the tide, having plenty of 
 tim.e ! But few men ever experience that pleasure. 
 When we have once taken hold of the realities of 
 life, we are apt to find that it is like grasping the 
 electrodes of a battery: unpleasant to hold on, 
 and hard to let go. 
 
 As a rule, the men who have plenty of time are 
 those who have let time severely alone. It is like 
 
l6o SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 strong drink: when a man has begun to use it in 
 earnest it is hard to stop. The Indian, when he is 
 full, and can lie in the autumn sun, while the 
 squaw gathers in the scanty crop and dresses the 
 game, has plenty of time. The man who has in- 
 herited an income sufficient to meet all his wants, 
 and who is making no effort to increase the patri- 
 mony, has plenty of time. The man who from 
 any cause is letting the world drift, and is making 
 no effort, has plenty of time. 
 
 A few people have too much time. It hangs 
 heavily on their minds. It wrinkles up around 
 their spirits in the form of ennui. This is a dis- 
 ease from which American business men are very 
 far removed. 
 
 We spent two days in Nashville. We saw the 
 young ladies comfortably situated in their new 
 homes. My leave of Susie, while it had a tinge 
 of sadness, was full of hope and joyous expecta- 
 tions. We again boarded the train and were soon 
 following the iron horse, whose head was to the 
 east. Without any mishap or experience worthy 
 of note, we reached our destination. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 In College. 
 
 IN college ! This is the goal to which years of 
 labor had been directed. An air of culture 
 pervaded the place. The manners and language 
 of the people indicated refinement. The impor- 
 tance of education was the constant theme with 
 the Chancellor and professors. The desire for 
 education took possession of my energies and 
 aroused my ambition. I had never before so fully 
 appreciated its supreme importance. And a feel- 
 ing of its importance has been growing on me all 
 the years since. Yet the full import of the idea of 
 education cannot be realized. The time has not yet 
 come for any man to grasp the subject in all its full- 
 ness. Indeed, the time may never come when any 
 one mind can possess the amplitude of range to es- 
 timate all the delights and advantages of truest cul- 
 ture. However vast the stores of the mind, there 
 are vaster stores for other minds to gather. How- 
 ever bright the stars, and noble the constellations 
 that cluster in our mental sky, there are yet bright- 
 er heavens below the horizon, nobler stars of light 
 in clusters of richer glory, to rise on the minds of 
 generations yet unborn. 
 
 The grand object of education, the ideal of ex- 
 cellence which floats in the van of our noblest en- 
 11 (161) 
 
l62 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 deavor, is to interpret to the human intellect the 
 relation and nature of universal being. It is to 
 enable man to comprehend the wonderfully com- 
 plicated construction of nature, and to appreciate 
 the illimitable tissue of interacting forces by which 
 all created existence moves responsive to the will 
 of the great Creator. It is to enable us to appreci- 
 ate God in all his works and ways. 
 
 Such culture not only unrolls nature to the mind, 
 but it unrolls the mind itself. As a flower spreads 
 its petals to the life-giving influences of sun and 
 shower, so the mind unfolds its convolutions to the 
 sweet influences of proper education. Culture 
 continually enlarges the range of mental vision. 
 The mind gains point after point of the rising 
 peaks of truth, and is gladdened with an ever ex- 
 panding view. To the growing mind, knowledge 
 is a growing picture of beautifully blended truths, 
 bounded by a constantly retreating horizon. To 
 education, therefore, belongs sources of blessings 
 to man, which are inexhaustible in supply and in- 
 finite in range. 
 
 To educate is to add to the stock of mind, and 
 thus give to the world more of man. It gives to 
 the world more intellect, more integritv, more re- 
 ligion. It adds to the precious stock of soul which 
 our world is continually pouring forth to God. 
 Education, in its widest range and ultimate end, 
 looks to the elevation and regeneration of our race. 
 The pivotal utterance of the world's greatest 
 Teacher is contained in the great commission, the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 163 
 
 command to go and teach the nations. When this 
 shall have been fully done, done to the extent of 
 the meaning, then our planet, as she threads her 
 ethereal way amid the throng of sister worlds, will 
 bear her due amount of consecrated intellect as 
 acceptable incense to God. 
 
 Of course education, as we here use the word, 
 does not consist wholly in mental drill after the 
 manner of schools, but is the unfolding and devel- 
 opment of all the resources of good in man ; the un- 
 folding and proper growth of mind; the drawing 
 out and training of the affections; the health and 
 discipline of the body. Education is to secure the 
 full vigor and well-being of our intellectual, moral, 
 and physical faculties. It adds strength and polish 
 to the whole man. 
 
 To accomplish this in its fullest sense, we must 
 begin with the children. If the state is to have 
 citizens competent to superintend the delicate ma- 
 chinery of government, we must educate the 
 young. If the Church is to have ministers and 
 members fully qualified to guard the ark of truth 
 and lead the world to a better life, we must begin 
 in the primary school or in the nursery. If the 
 mists of ignorance and the fogs of superstition are 
 to be dispelled, we must educate the young. If 
 we would have our broad land to glow with the 
 splendors of intelligence, we must educate the 
 young. Finally, if we would have our world to 
 come up to the high import of her divine mission, 
 wrapped in the glorious influences of culture, 
 
164 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 glowing with the gems of intellect, and enlightened 
 by the stars of genius, like the diadem of God, we 
 must educate the young. 
 
 The destiny of every man hinges on the kind of 
 education he receives ; not on the kind attempted 
 to be given, but on the kind actually received. 
 This is often very different from the culture offered 
 in the school or attempted in the home. It may 
 be that of the streets, or even of the gutters. But 
 the kind that is received, no matter where it comes 
 from, is that which carries with it the destiny of 
 the man. Then it is important to begin early, be- 
 gin right, and be constantly persistent. The ef- 
 forts should begin far down toward the sources of 
 the formation of character, and be continued far 
 into manhood. The set time to be educated does 
 not suit all cases. One takes on education rapidly 
 in infancy or early childhood, another in youth, 
 and still another in manhood. The first and last 
 of these classes are apt to be neglected. The first 
 takes on a corrupt education before the parents are 
 aware of it; the last, after parents and teachers 
 had supposed the education had been fmished. 
 Those of the last class are more numerous than is 
 generally supposed. Education comes almost as fre- 
 quently to the bearded man as to the beardless boy. 
 
 Those who seek to educate children, whether 
 by founding schools and colleges for that purpose, 
 or actually engaging in the labor of teaching, are 
 among the great benefactors of mankind. They 
 confer the greatest blessing on multitudes by sav- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 165 
 
 ing them from a life of ignorance and inefficiency, 
 if not from one of grossness and crime. To lead 
 the young mind along the beautiful path of knowl- 
 edge, to admire the wisdom and goodness of God, 
 is an act like charity, twice blessed ; it blesses both 
 the giver and receiver. Education brings out the ge- 
 nius of the heart as well as the strength of the intel- 
 lect, and yokes them together in the service of man. 
 
 These or similar reflections came to me, sug- 
 gested, no doubt, by the talks of my instructors 
 during my brief career at college. Years of ob- 
 servation have only confirmed their truth. "The 
 mind is the measure of the man," and education, 
 correct or perverted, is the measure of the mind. 
 
 I had just begun to enjoy the musing of soul 
 which one feels while pursuing studies in the 
 classic shades of college life, when I was startled 
 one day by a letter draped in mourning. What a 
 flutter of dread went to my heart ! I saw in the 
 next instant that it was from my sister in Louisi- 
 ana. With nervous haste the envelope was broken 
 and the letter read. The little babe had died. 
 When about six months old, the httle fellow was 
 taken with the croup. The skill of the physician 
 and the arts of the nurse were alike unavailing. 
 Just after daylight, having suffered all night, the 
 babe became quiet. Its features assumed their 
 natural cast, as if in the repose of slumber. It was, 
 indeed, the last long sleep of death. 
 
 That night I sat in my room and thought of the 
 saddened home on the great river. Every feature 
 
l66 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 of that home, with its elegant appointments and 
 spacious surroundings, was so vivid in my memory. 
 I had there spent pleasant days in delightful reveiie. 
 While I could not, of course, feel the pangs of grief 
 as my sister expressed them in her letter, yet a sad 
 and hopeful sympathy connected me with all the 
 sorrowing household. I entered into their disap- 
 pointment, their hope. I thought how each one 
 would be affected by the great sorrow. I was 
 confident that religious faith would come to my 
 sister's relief. To her the smiting hand would be 
 wrapped in the soft folds of loving designs. 
 
 Then I looked out into the region of the stars 
 and mused on the mysteries of life and death. It 
 was a time to think of the knowledge, the igno- 
 rance, the doubts, and the hopes of mankind. 
 The mind hung over the problem of existence, and 
 felt for the chord of sympathy which binds all be- 
 ings in the bonds of a noble purpose. What is 
 that purpose? Can it be other than beneficent? 
 Is it not wiser and better to "trust the larger 
 hope?" The man must be heartless who could 
 wish to clip the wings of faith or check the flight 
 of hope when the soul would rise above the ugly 
 realities of sorrow and tears. Mv reveries took 
 the form of verse, and I penned the following lines, 
 which I sent to my sister: 
 
 The Sweet Little Babe That Died. 
 
 It broke, the light of morn, 
 The haunts of earth to adorn 
 Bright as a dream newborn ; 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 167 
 
 And night unrolled her gloomy folds 
 From bud and bloom and thorn, 
 And nature glowed as from new molds. 
 
 It flowed, the stream of time, 
 
 To song of being's rhyme. 
 
 As rang the morn's sweet chime; 
 Like crystal, winding ever bright 
 
 Beneath the bending lime, 
 It flowed in morning's waking light. 
 
 Ere yet the sun of day 
 
 Had chased the dews away, 
 
 Whose drops on every spray 
 Hung like angels' quivering tears; 
 
 And beauty's mantle lay 
 On all the scenes of hopes and fears; 
 
 I saw a bud of life. 
 
 Ere yet the pruning knife 
 
 Had waked the pangs of strife. 
 Just o'er the pearly waters hung; 
 
 With flush of being ripe. 
 Its fragrance on the zephyrs flung. 
 
 Its petaled robe of light, 
 
 In beauty woven bright. 
 
 Like an angel's wing in flight, 
 Was barely to the eye unfurled; 
 
 We caught but hasty sight 
 Of beauty as it onward whirled. 
 
 I looked; an angel came; 
 
 Her eyes showed love's pure flame; 
 
 A light was round her frame; 
 A holy purpose stayed her flight. 
 
 Our joy of heart grew taine; 
 Why came she from the realms of light? 
 
 She plucked with hands of white 
 The bud of human light; 
 Then fell the weight of night ; 
 
1 68 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 Then rose the storm with sorrow fraught. 
 
 'Tis but a cherub's flight 
 To haunts of beings' nobler thought. 
 
 Above the storm cloud's roar, 
 Beyond the eagle's soar, 
 To heaven's lovely shore 
 
 The angel in her homeward flight 
 The life bud kindly bore. 
 
 It blooms in realms of endless light. 
 
 Bright in the home on high. 
 Where never breathes a sigh, 
 And all the good are nigh. 
 
 That bud of life so pure above 
 Matures where angels fly 
 
 Its fruit of intellect and love. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 War. 
 
 LIFE at college was now running smoothly. 
 From the papers which came from home and 
 from other sections of the South we knew that 
 excitement was constantly at fever heat. But as 
 this now seemed to be the normal condition, we 
 had become accustomed to it. We were out of 
 the current, and glad to let others take care of the 
 country. Aside from the papers we heard but 
 little of politics in our quiet retreat. The young 
 men, especially the seniors, frequently had the 
 subject up for debate in the societies, but this 
 made little or no impression. 
 
 I became every week more deeply interested in 
 my studies. The letters constantly received from 
 Susie, for we kept up a regular correspondence, 
 were sprightly and witty, full of hope, and teem- 
 ing with good sense. Those letters were to me a 
 source of inspiration for good. 
 
 John began his course with some disadvantage. 
 A whole year out of school could not be entirely 
 overcome, even by the most extraordinary dili- 
 gence. But he was rapidly regaining his lost pres- 
 tige, and we all knew it was only a matter of time 
 when he would again lead in the classes. Indeed, 
 he was equal to the best of us now. Dolph, Dick, 
 
 (169) 
 
170 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 and the Aliens were getting on well. We were all 
 ambitious to make a good record at college. 
 
 We had, in fact, become so intent on our studies 
 that we were to a great extent oblivious to the out- 
 side world. But in the midst of our abstractions 
 we were startled by an announcement which 
 seemed to shake the whole fabric of society. It 
 was the election of Mr. Lincoln ! The Faculty 
 were unusually concerned. As the students near- 
 ly all took their home papers, they to some extent 
 shared in the state of public feeling. These pa- 
 pers showed that excitement was now reaching 
 white heat. 
 
 Secession was then the vital question. Vital be- 
 cause the lives of a million men hung upon the issue ! 
 The legal right of a state to secede from the fed- 
 eral union was the all-absorbing question. In its 
 discussion all other differences were forgotten. 
 After a few weeks' discussion the great majority 
 of the people South seemed to be convinced that 
 they had the right to secede. Behind that was the 
 question of expediency. On this there was a more 
 decided difference of opinion. 
 
 Our home correspondence now greatly increased. 
 We had made common property of the letters so far 
 as they brought the eagerly sought news. By this 
 correspondence and the flood of papers, which 
 flowed in from every part of the South, we had 
 ample means of knowing the state of feeling and 
 the drift of the arguments used. From Will Ben- 
 son I had a full account of events in our neighbor- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 171 
 
 hood. Col. Parker had taken the field in favor of 
 secession. Our usually quiet neighbor, Maj. Jones, 
 represented the other side. Col. Parker contend- 
 ed that " secession is the only way left us to pro- 
 tect our rights. Our rights have been so long dis- 
 regarded and violated that we have absolutely no 
 security that they will be respected in the future. 
 We have, in fact, every assurance that they will 
 be purposely and persistently violated. Things 
 have been getting worse and worse for years. 
 Our rights have been despised and trampled on 
 in every possible way, every day for years past. 
 These things have been done while the government 
 has been friendly, or at least indifferent. Now 
 with the government hostile to our peculiar institu- 
 tion, there is nothing left us but to form a govern- 
 ment of our own; a government in which the 
 rights of the federal Constitution, so long violated, 
 shall find safe and permanent guarantees. There 
 is no use to disguise the fact that a strong and 
 growing faction North are determined to break 
 down the Constitution left us by our fathers. 
 They intend nothing less than the destruction of 
 slavery. They have been constantly growing in 
 number and power till now they have a President 
 to occupy the high and honored place of Washing- 
 ton and Jefferson. We must act now or tamely 
 submit to insult, and cowardly look on while the 
 grand bulwark of liberty formed by our fathers, 
 and cemented by the blood of patriots, is pulled 
 down before our eyes; our children despoiled 
 
172 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 of their rightful inheritance and left to beggary. 
 Secession cuts the Gordian knot. Once sev- 
 ered from these agitators, peace will reign su- 
 preme. It is admitted on all sides that we have 
 the right to secede. Then, if we have the right to 
 secede, no government has a right to object. We 
 only do what we have the right to do. It is the 
 right which adheres in a sovereign state. We went 
 voluntarily into the Union ; we can go voluntarily 
 out. Of course there will be no war. The gov- 
 ernment has no right to make war on a state. 
 The state is anterior to the government, and has 
 rights superior. She is independent and can do 
 as she pleases. All we have to do is to put on a 
 bold front. The Northern people have no interest 
 in slavery, and have no idea of fighting about it. 
 I will agree to drink all the blood that will be 
 shed in this quarrel." 
 
 Maj. Jones replied: "The argument for the le- 
 gal right of secession, viewed from the platform of 
 state rights, seems very plausible. But what we 
 claim and what others will admit are likely to be 
 very different things. I do not believe the govern- 
 ment will concede the right of a state to withdraw 
 from the Union. To do so would be to consent to 
 its own destruction. If one state may secede, all the 
 states may withdraw, and leave no government. 
 To admit the right of secession is to give up all 
 power of constraint, and at once deprive a great 
 nation of all nationality. It is not the nature of gov- 
 ernments to tamely submit to dismemberment. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I73 
 
 This fact is attested by all history. When did a 
 government ever consent to disband? Self-pres- 
 ervation is the first law of nations, as well as of 
 nature. We have in common with all people the 
 right of revolution. But that is a desperate venture. 
 It is an appeal to arms, and should only be resorted 
 to in extreme cases. Certainly we have no cause 
 now for revolt. The government has done noth- 
 ing to justify revolt. And there is no probability 
 that it will attempt to interfere with our peculiar 
 institution. If it does, then will be time enough to 
 try the expedient of forming a nev/ government. 
 I am sure that such an attempt at any time will be 
 attended by a bloody war. It is extremely unwise 
 to provoke such a calamity. This is a time for 
 cool, clear-headed wisdom, and not for passion; 
 a time for patience and forbearance, and not for 
 precipitant haste." 
 
 When the account of this debate was read we 
 could almost see Dolph swelling with importance. 
 He threw his shoulders back and walked the floor 
 with learned and pompous airs. He at once pro- 
 cured the letter, that he might take in and mental- 
 ly assimilate every syllable of his father's speech. 
 It was amusing the next day to hear him holding 
 forth to a squad of boys gathered around, who evi- 
 dently regarded him as a marvel of political wis- 
 dom. How he rolled the sentences! What a 
 volume of meaning there seemed to be in the sono- 
 rous words! "Yes, gentlemen," he said, "a 
 sovereign state has the inherent right to secede. 
 
174 ^^^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 The states were anterior to the general govern- 
 ment. They were sovereign then ; they are sover- 
 eign now. Voluntarily they went into the Union, 
 and voluntarily they can go out. The states hav- 
 ing the right to secede, no government has a right 
 to object. Then of course there will be no war. 
 Gentlemen, I will agree to drink every drop of 
 blood that is shed in this quarrel." Dolph put his 
 thumbs in the armholes of his vest, as his father 
 would have done, and walked around with the con- 
 sciousness of having merited distinction. But his 
 countenance rather fell when he saw John and 
 Dick standing behind the bower, laughing at his 
 eloquence. 
 
 Similar discussions were going on all over the 
 country. The wildest enthusiasm prevailed, and 
 the most absurd things were said, with the most 
 provoking earnestness. Some of the papers con- 
 tended that if we had a war it would be glorious- 
 ly short. It would be a mere breakfast spell to 
 whip out the whole Yankee nation. Some of the 
 orators could whip them, one against ten. One 
 said: "It will be short work when every shot 
 counts a pigeon." The speeches were calculated 
 to make the impression that if we did have a shght 
 brush, it would not be worth while to go over and 
 count the enemy's slain, unless we naturally had 
 a mind to ; it would be just the same to count the 
 number of shots from our side. These ut- 
 terances, in the light of the history that has been 
 made, give fresh meaning to the ancient proverb: 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 75 
 
 " Whom the Gods wish to destroy they first make 
 mad." 
 
 While these discussions were waxing more and 
 more fierce, and passion was everywhere gaining 
 ascendency, matters were still more complicated by 
 the secession of South Carolina. It now looked 
 like the die was cast. This brought unusual stir 
 to the college. Discipline was almost impossible. 
 Profitable study was out of the question. The 
 South Carolina students held a meeting and asked 
 permission of the Faculty to return home. The 
 Faculty promised to consider the matter, and ad- 
 vised the young men to be patient and await fur- 
 ther developments. These were not long coming. 
 The wires soon flashed the news that Mississippi 
 had followed the example of South Carolina. 
 
 Each vv^eek brought new developments. State 
 after state went out. Soon the representatives of 
 these states met in Montgomery, Ala., and organ- 
 ized the Confederate States of America. Thus, 
 before we could fully realize the fact, our homes 
 were in one country, and we in another. The 
 Virginians, good-naturedly, called us foreigners. 
 To make the impression still more real, some pa- 
 pers down South placed under the head of " For- 
 eign " the news from the States outside of the Con- 
 federacy- 
 
 Thus we had tvvo governments standing face to 
 face. The attitude of the new government could 
 only be defiant; that of the old was of bold watch- 
 fulness. Thus, like two ferocious beasts, they 
 
176 SAM WILLIAMS; 
 
 eyed each other before making the assault. It 
 was the fearful pause before the deadly struggle. 
 
 " Will there be war?" was the all-absorbing ques- 
 tion which quivered on every lip and burned in 
 every heart, during all this time of terrible suspense. 
 As if to give sharp point to the question, military 
 companies were forming all over the country. 
 Fiery speeches were made; burning philippics 
 filled the papers. The drum and fife were every- 
 where used to inspire the martial spirit. The forts, 
 arsenals, and munitions of war in different parts of 
 the South were taken charge of by the Confeder- 
 ate Government. Only one fort held out against 
 the demand for surrender. That was Fort Sum- 
 ter, near Charleston, S. C. The attention of the 
 whole country was now directed to that fort, 
 standing as it did like a faithful sentinel in the 
 midst of universal alarm. During all this season 
 of warlike preparation, we heard of negotiations 
 going on between representatives of the two gov- 
 ernments. How many hopes hung on these ru- 
 mors ! How soon were they dashed to pieces ! 
 
 These days of suspense, like everything else, 
 must have an end. So, when winter was gone, 
 and nature was putting on the peaceful livery of 
 spring, the wires grew hot with the terrible news 
 that the war had already begun. The Confeder- 
 ates were firing on Fort Sumter. 
 
 This completely demoralized the college, and 
 put discipline at an end. The Faculty at once gave 
 permission for all the young men from the seceded 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 1 77 
 
 states to return home. Having advices from our 
 parents to the same effect, all from our neigh- 
 borhood agreed to start home in two days. Thus 
 suddenly and sadly our college career came to an 
 end. That day I learned by letter that Will Ben- 
 son was forming a company. This brought the 
 matter near home. ^ 
 
 Only a few months ago our country seemed the 
 very abode of peace. Now war was at our very 
 doors. So we have seen the calm afternoon, 
 when all nature drooped in the quietness of peace- 
 ful repose, when all at once the forces of the storm 
 began to gather. The wrathful lightning in fear- 
 ful flashes was only equaled by the deep-mouthed 
 howl and roar of " heaven's loud artillery." Thus 
 the storm of war was now rushing on with fearful 
 potence. The tempestuous sky was every hour 
 growing more lurid. None could foresee the re- 
 sults ; none could tell who would make up the hec- 
 atombs of victims. 
 
 Our little company in its homeward flight was 
 seemingly gay and happy. But back of all our 
 coruscations of wit and humor plainly stood the 
 background of apprehension. We returned by 
 Nashville for the young ladies. Susie, as I now 
 saw her, through the gathering mists of uncertainty, 
 looked more charming than ever. 
 
 As soon as we crossed the line into our native 
 
 state we could see everywhere the evidences of high 
 
 enthusiasm. " The banner with a strange device " 
 
 was floating in all the depot towns and from many 
 
 12 
 
lyS SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 private houses. Ladies on the train wore the min- 
 iature flag pinned to their dress fronts, while gen- 
 tlemen sported the same colors on their hats. We 
 saw several companies drilling to the martial 
 strains of drum and fife. People were unusuall}'" 
 gay and sprightly. It looked as if a universal hol- 
 iday had been, proclaimed. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 A Soldier. 
 
 WHEN we reached our native state and saw 
 the new flag floating in every breeze, we 
 felt that we too were out of the Union. The old 
 country was left behind ; our allegiance was due to 
 the new. But the division of the country into two 
 governments was to me a humiliation. I had 
 loved my country, admired her greatness, gloried 
 in her future possibilities, revered her flag. My 
 bosom had swelled with emotion as I thought how 
 that flag was respected by all nations. 
 
 Now this was all passed. Instead of a great 
 government respected by all the world, we are now 
 to have petty states. As there is no supreme law 
 to hold the states together, we are likely to have 
 endless division; for the least dissatisfaction, of 
 which there is generally a good supply on hand, 
 will be sufficient at any time to cause any number 
 of states to withdraw from either of the govern- 
 ments now established, and form still another. 
 American unity is likely to be even a greater im- 
 possibility than German unity has been. 
 
 With all this there was sure to come insignifi- 
 cance. We would no longer have a government 
 great enough to claim the proud title of America. 
 America would still be a broad land, but no longer 
 
 (179) 
 
I So SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 a great nation. But a jumble of petty states whose 
 good opinion nobody would be concerned to court. 
 And I gave to the waning glory of America a sigh 
 profound as it was sincere. It never occurred to 
 me that it was otherwise than my duty to stand by 
 my native state at all risks. Nor did I have an 
 idea that since the states were determined to secede, 
 that they could ever be prevented from doing so. 
 I simply had to be reconciled to the new order of 
 things. 
 
 Are we to become soldiers? This question had 
 been one of growing interest from the time we left 
 college. I noticed that the military enthusiasm of 
 our party rose rapidly after we got under the do- 
 main of the Confederate flag. It could not have 
 been otherwise. Martial enthusiasm was in the 
 very air we breathed. Everybody was elated. 
 The whole country was buoyant. Men were ex- 
 ultant over the fact that the Gordian knot had been 
 cut once for all. We were to have no more agita- 
 tion about slavery. That question is at last settled. 
 And if we do have a little war, it will soon be over. 
 Thus everybody was hopeful. Some even went so 
 far as to say that war is necessary to cement the 
 new state. To gain by arms what is ours by right 
 will be the fitting laurel of glory with which the 
 new government is to be crowned. " Hurrah for 
 the Southern Confederacy! " "Hurrah for Jeff 
 Davis! " "Hurrah for the brave men who will 
 defend our rights ! " 
 
 These and like huzzas we heard all along the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. ibl 
 
 way. They came from the lusty throats of strong 
 men. They fell from the dainty lips of lovely 
 women. Of course we caught the fire. Dolph 
 was especially zealous. He was only afraid that 
 the war would be over before he could get a chance 
 to fight. 
 
 I was glad to get back. But the dear old home 
 was already changed. A deep shadow rested on 
 its threshold. I came to a saddened household. 
 While peace still lingered, the sunshine of hope 
 was dim. I was surprised and grieved to see fa- 
 ther look so careworn and broken. Mother, too, 
 was sad. Both looked much older. I just now 
 realized the fact that my parents were rapidly 
 growing old. The prospect of war was already 
 telling fearfully on their declining strength. I 
 here tasted the first bitter fruit of the war. Their 
 son-in-law, Will Benson, had been elected captain 
 of a company. So he was in for the war. This 
 was to them a source of great anxiety. 
 
 I found that father by no means shared in the 
 hopeful view as to the shortness of the war. He 
 said that it would be a desperate struggle, and in- 
 volve a terrible sacrifice of life and treasure. And 
 all to no purpose. He was clearly of the opinion 
 that the war would be the end of slavery. He and 
 mother were very averse to my going into the war. 
 They needed my help at home in their old age. 
 
 According to my father's gloomy view of the 
 war, soldiering was likely to become a serious 
 business. The startling developments every week 
 
l82 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 seemed to confirm that view. Military enthusiasm 
 was not one of the noble weaknesses of my nature. 
 I was a lover of peace. I most heartily wished 
 that there was no war. But what was I to do? 
 This was a practical question. It did not consult 
 my preferences nor hinge on my theories. The 
 state was calling for troops. My parents really 
 needed my help. Which is the first, the family or 
 the state? Perhaps always the family. But in 
 great emergencies the obligations to family and 
 state blend into one, and the family is best served 
 by serving the state. 
 
 I was certain that most, if not all, of my associ- 
 ates would enlist. What will they and the com- 
 munity expect of me? What do my parents expect 
 of me? Their sadness would be greatly increased 
 by my going. But do they really expect me to 
 stay? Thus by judicious weighing of motives, I 
 was balanced on the line of uncertainty. Was 
 this a balance between inclination and duty, or 
 between inclination and pride? Motives are very 
 subtle, and often wear strange disguises. 
 
 Deep down in my nature I was conscious of a more 
 powerful incentive, an oracle whose word would 
 at once have decided the case. What would 
 Susie expect of me? I could face any danger 
 that Susie approved. I could " run through a 
 troop or leap over a wall" for Susie. I could stay 
 quietly at home and be regarded as a coward by 
 the world, if only by this Susie would be drawn 
 closer to me. Here the stiff-featured moralist 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 183 
 
 who sees an imp of Satan perched in every smile 
 loses all patience and exclaims: " Duty ! Duty is 
 the only criterion of action!" Yes, verily; but 
 what is duty? Are we likely to deviate very far 
 from the path of duty when we make the purest hu- 
 man love of which human nature is capable the cri- 
 terion of our action? In the great emergencies of life 
 we often can find no direct command telling us to 
 do this or that. True, the great principles are given 
 for the guide of conduct. But these principles 
 have to be interpreted by our consciousness of 
 right. The interpretation of principles by con- 
 sciousness gives conscience. Trueness to con- 
 science gives character. When are we more likely 
 to follow the leadings of conscience^ and thus be 
 true to ourselves, than when we are true to our no- 
 blest human loves? Is not even our love for God 
 developed from the human side? Can we suppose 
 that God is displeased when we yield to the 
 strongest feeling he has planted in our nature? 
 To sacrifice everything to the noblest, purest love, 
 gives to man the grandest type of character. I 
 could not but believe that Susie was like most other 
 women; that while she would shrink from the 
 danger involved, she must admire the courage and 
 applaud the heroism that stands firm in the hour of 
 danger. So I resolved to be a soldier. 
 
 Capt. Benson's company was not so full but 
 there was room for the " College Brigade," as we, 
 the returned college boys, were called. We at 
 once became important. From the state of school- 
 
184 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 boys, at one stride we became men. Yea, in com- 
 mon with all the members of our company, we be- 
 came distinguished men; the country's brave 
 defenders; the heroes to defend a nation's great- 
 ness; sons of the noble sires of '76. What a 
 power is war to make one great! How easily one 
 steps from the seclusion of private life into the 
 glare of military glory ! 
 
 About one-third of our company were from Plum 
 Creek neighborhood. These sun-browned sons 
 of toil, unknown before, were now toasted and 
 praised by the elite of the great plantations. Their 
 awkward manners and rude speech no longer 
 shocked the tender nerves of wealth. 
 
 The artificial grooves worn in the stratum of 
 manners by the long years of peace are obliterated 
 by war. The entire basis of respectability is 
 changed. Bravery becomes the passport to every 
 distinction. Consequently war brings new men to 
 the front. Indeed, war erects a new front of its 
 own, and the brave only are conspicuous on its 
 crest. 
 
 As our courage had not been tested, our heroism 
 was taken for granted. Everybody thought or 
 said we were brave, and we thought or pretended 
 to think so too. Many were the flattering remarks 
 that we heard. We were the men to make a short 
 and glorious war. We were to hang the chaplets 
 of victory around the brow of the young giant 
 among the nations. Generations 3^et unborn are 
 to rise up and call us blessed. Thus the old men 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 185 
 
 gave us encouragement. Thus the matrons in- 
 spired our fortitude. Thus the maidens smiled us 
 on to victory. 
 
 Our company was ordered to remain at home 
 and drill for the present. Special stress being 
 laid upon the drilHng. An old veteran of the 
 Mexican War was at hand to teach us militar}^ tac- 
 tics. We could have remained at home and drilled 
 every day, but it was thought best to go into camp 
 to inure us to the hardships of a soldier's life. 
 As it was now balmy spring weather, our military 
 life was delightful. It reminded us so much of the 
 camp hunt or the fishing frolic. Then if we had 
 rain and things about the camp were wet and un- 
 pleasant, it was so easy to get furloughed and go 
 home, or go and see our sweethearts, and be toast- 
 ed as heroes around the family circle. We began 
 to think "soldiering" a delightful business. 
 
 It was a time of high enjoyment. Our camp 
 was the center of gay festivities for the whole 
 neighborhood. The old men came and told all the 
 anecdotes they knew of martial adventures of other 
 days. Many of these anecdotes were greatly mu- 
 tilated by time, still they were much enjoyed by the 
 narrators. Every one who had a speech, however 
 old and musty, was now expected to hand it round. 
 Great was the feast of antiquated wit ! But it was 
 all made fresh by the foam of unfermented milita- 
 ry enthusiasm. The matrons of the neighborhood 
 came, and by their motherly solicitude touched our 
 hearts with a new love for home and native land. 
 
l86 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 The young ladies came, and by their confidence 
 and hope inspired us with new incentives to nobler 
 endeavor. 
 
 It was delightful, and sometimes amusing, to see 
 these young ladies trying to bridge the chasm 
 which wealth and culture had deepened between 
 the aristocratic slave-owning population and the 
 white toilers of the neighboring hills. " My dear 
 Mr. Smith, do have some more of this lemonade. 
 It is some of my own mixing; spiced with elixir 
 and dashed with sherry." " I know hit's powerful 
 good, Miss Fannie. I do b'lieve, though, I've 
 drunk mighty nigh a quart already. I reckin 
 though it won't hurt a feller." And the unsophis- 
 ticated soldier drained the glass. While the lus- 
 cious drops of the liquid were still hanging on the 
 rich luster of his lips like officeseekers around the 
 door of patronage, he said: "Am! that's mighty 
 good, Miss Fannie." " I'm so glad you enjoy it. 
 Let me prepare you another glass, Mr. Smith." 
 "No, thank you, Miss Fannie; I'm plumb full 
 now." 
 
 Thus war laps the extremes of society. The 
 love of country and the sense of common danger 
 welds them together. Thus patriotism becomes 
 the band which draws society into closer union, 
 and holds the state together. 
 
 But if our Plum Creek volunteers were un- 
 taught in the amenities of plantation society, we 
 were all at equal disadvantages in the matter of 
 military discipline. Our "line" more often de- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 187 
 
 scribed the section of a circle. It was sometimes 
 serpentine. And at all times we found it hard to 
 " dress." 
 
 At the command, "Forward march!" some 
 boys would start in advance of others. The com- 
 mand seemed not to reach at once all the centers 
 of activity. Like a boy setting off a row of fire- 
 crackers, he fired all at once; yet, because the 
 fuses were of different lengths, the popping was 
 irregular. A dozen boys scattered along down 
 the line would start together; then another lot 
 would get themselves in motion; then still an- 
 other; and a few would lag entirely behind. Our 
 line in motion was something like a shaft in a ma- 
 chine shop, with cranks or eccentrics set at differ- 
 ent angles: while some were coming up others 
 were going down. But a little practice gave us 
 the " step," and in a few months we could drill 
 like veterans. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Fighting. 
 
 WE had been in camp over a month when we 
 were ordered to a camp of rendezvous 
 about seventy miles north, where the regiment was 
 to be formed. We moved toward the front. 
 
 My farewell to Susie was sad. No feigned mar- 
 tial enthusiasm, no assumed gayety of manner be- 
 fitting a soldier' s life could hide the fact. Susie 
 saw through the pretense, and instead of military 
 alacrity saw only a reluctant compliance with the 
 demands of duty. 
 
 Maj. Allen had a very trusty servant named 
 George who was to go and look after his two boys; 
 and as it was unnecessary for us to have more than 
 one, it was arranged that George was to be cook 
 for our mess. 
 
 As we were leaving camp the news of the victory 
 at Big Bethel greatly excited our ardor. We were 
 more than ever afraid the war would be over be- 
 fore we could cover ourselves with glory. In all 
 speeches of this kind Dolph was the spokesman 
 for our mess. 
 
 After the organization of our regiment, drilling 
 
 went on more vigorously than ever. The news of 
 
 the great victory at Bull Run almost set us wild. 
 
 The boys clamored to be sent to Virginia, as all 
 
 (188) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 189 
 
 the fighting was to be done there. " It is unjust to 
 hold us away from the field of glory. The great 
 battle of the war has already been fought, and we 
 are kept here ingloriously idle." Such were the 
 impatient murmurs. 
 
 But we were to some extent pacified by a move 
 toward the front, and the promise of a fight in the 
 near future. The more thoughtful men among us 
 were of the opinion that we would soon have fight- 
 ing enough. The unprecedented calls for sol- 
 diers by both governments, and the widespread 
 enthusiasm North and South, indicated a bloody 
 struggle. The giants were arming for the contest. 
 The work of organization was vigorously pushed all 
 along the line from Western Missouri to the Atlan- 
 tic ocean. 
 
 Our first service was on the Tennessee River in 
 defense of Fort Henry. It was a beautiful day in 
 autumn when we pitched our tents on the shore of 
 that placid stream. Its rippling waters gave no 
 sign of the coming storm. If we had been on a 
 pleasure excursion and camping out for recreation, 
 no more appropriate spot could have been chosen. 
 It was a place to commune with nature, and study 
 the lesson of peace on earth, good will to men. 
 
 One day the officers sent the " College Brigade " 
 down the river to reconnoiter. I suppose they 
 sent us for exercise, for there was no evidence of an 
 opposing force within fifty miles of us. But we 
 were entirely ignorant of that fact, and went on 
 the lookout for real Yankees. 
 
ipO SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 The situation was novel. Never did a company 
 do more genuine looking. Every distant stump, 
 especially if it had a broken limb to represent a 
 gun, became an object of special scrutiny. A one- 
 horned cow, blazed faced, with head erect, in the 
 distance, looking right at us, demanded very care- 
 ful observation. The further we went the more 
 nervous we became. About two miles from camp 
 a homesick feeling came over us. We were 
 moving along close to a little slough, looking in- 
 tently as far as we could see in the forest, when a 
 bullfrog, disturbed by our invasion of his privacy, 
 gave a keen, characteristic screech, and went 
 head foremost into the water. We jumped like a 
 rifle had been shot at us. 
 
 This broke the spell. We laughed a dry grin, 
 and held a counsel of war; agreed to say nothing 
 of the frog panic on our return to camp, but to lay 
 aside this childish nervousness and be soldiers. 
 
 Our mettle was soon put to the test. We had 
 stubborn fighting for nearly two weeks. During 
 this time, Fort Henry and Fort Donaldson both 
 surrendered, after the most heroic resistance. We 
 retreated to Nashville. 
 
 Our next position was at Corinth. Everything 
 indicated an important battle near that place in a 
 short time. We scarcely had time to get ourselves 
 in order before we were put on the march to meet 
 the Union forces which were gathering at the land- 
 ing on the Tennessee River about twenty miles dis- 
 tant. The battle of Shiloh is a part of history. I 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I9I 
 
 am now interested only in the part taken by our 
 company. 
 
 About 6 o'clock, April 6, the action began. For 
 a time we were held in position, waiting orders. 
 The smoke of battle filled the air. The roar of 
 the guns was growing more terrific. We could 
 see the line of ambulances to our right carrying 
 back the wounded. The bullets were whistling 
 close about us, and bombs were bursting not far 
 off, while cannon balls were shattering the trees, 
 sometimes directly over us. Inaction under fire 
 was a trying ordeal. The order to advance was a 
 relief. We advanced rapidly, still reserving our 
 fire. All this time we could hear the sharp clicks 
 as the bullets were hitting objects about us ; then 
 a dull thud as a fellow-soldier was struck. The 
 order to fire came and had the effect to steady our 
 ranks. 
 
 Before I realized the fact we were under a heavy 
 fire, and comrades were falling from our ranks. I 
 was almost blinded by smoke and deafened by 
 noise. The command to charge was barely heard, 
 amid the din of battle. Our advance became a 
 run. I knew by the dense smoke and increasing 
 noise that we were close on the Union lines. I 
 thought I heard the word bayonets, and all the 
 company brought their guns to a level, as we still 
 charged onward. I thought we would be right 
 among the opposing forces. But the noise ceased 
 and the field before us cleared. We had routed 
 the enemy from that position. We were com- 
 
192 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 manded to halt; and when drawn up in line, I saw 
 for the first time that we were fearfully thinned. 
 The "College Brigade" was still intact. While 
 we were standing there an officer of high rank, I 
 think he was the brigade commander, rode by, and 
 waving his hand, said: " Soldiers, that was a bril- 
 Hant charge. I am proud of your gallant daring." 
 That was to me the first intimation that we had 
 distinguished ourselves. There was too much to 
 be done to think of what had been accomplished. 
 The fighting was not so severe with us for some 
 time, but there was scarcely a cessation in the 
 firing. Our foes fought stubbornly all the time, as 
 they fell back, till they took a decided stand, as 
 they did again and again; then they fought des- 
 perately. In a great battle we take little note of 
 time. During a pause in the struggle I looked at 
 my watch, and was surprised to find it was past 12 
 o'clock. In the afternoon we came in range of a 
 battery on a rise several hundred yards in front of 
 us. The battery was well supported, and was 
 dealing death and destruction to our ranks. Sev- 
 eral unsuccessful attempts had been made to si- 
 lence these guns. Our brigade, now not larger 
 than a regiment, was ordered to take that battery. 
 That was a fearful command. But we were flushed 
 with victory. The thought of failure, or of living 
 to see a failure, never entered our minds. 
 
 The charge had to be made over a deep ravine, 
 now muddy from recent rains. We hastily drew 
 up in line and went off at a brisk march, reserving 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I93 
 
 the charge proper till we could get nearer the bat- 
 tery. Aided by the smoke and a feint made at 
 another point, our purpo§e was not suspected until 
 we had rrade half the distance. The fire was then 
 directed to us, and we charged double-quick, or 
 quicker ! We raised the rebel yell as we dashed 
 into the blaze of the cannon and the more de- 
 structive bullets of the small arms. 
 
 Our ranks were fearfully thinned, but our offi- 
 cers kept them closed as we advanced. Those 
 who saw the charge from the rear said the line 
 grew sensibly shorter as it charged so fearlessly 
 into the jaws of death. I kept b}^ the side of John 
 Henderson till we were in thirty feet of the battery. 
 How he got ahead I cannot tell, unless it was on 
 account of better muscle. 
 
 The battery showed no signs of wavering. We 
 were in very touch with the blaze of the guns. John 
 silenced the first gun. The bayonets gleamed 
 right across the touchholes, and the gunners just 
 had to give back. The battery was ours, and we 
 had a little time to think and observe. I noticed 
 that John was smoking — not comfortably puffing a 
 cigar — but his clothes were on fire, having caught 
 from the blaze of the cannon. 
 
 Our company was the first to reach and silence 
 the guns, and John was its gallant leader, with bay- 
 onet presented. His conduct was noticed, and he 
 received a captain's commission for bravery on the 
 field. Our company was warmly commended, as 
 was also the entire brigade, for this gallant charge. 
 
194 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 It was glory at a fearful sacrifice. When Capt. 
 Benson drew us up in line, more than half the 
 men were missing, among them Ben and Joe Al- 
 len. We hoped they were only wounded. But 
 even that hope was of short duration. They had 
 fallen near together, apparently without a strug- 
 gle. 
 
 Night cams at last, and the first day of the Shiloh 
 contest was over. We had been through the thick- 
 est of the fight, but had seen little of the battle. 
 Men who fight in the ranks have no time to observe 
 the movements of a great battle. That night we 
 slept on the field of victory, in the tents and camp 
 of the enemy. Exhausted nature must sleep, de- 
 spite the cries of the suffering or the torrents of 
 rain. Why is it the general rule that rain follows 
 a great battle? Is it because of the concussion of 
 the atmosphere so akin to thunder? Does rain 
 come as a help or hurt to the feverish wounded? 
 That night I thought it might be that heaven, in 
 pity, was relieving by absorption the burning 
 thirst of the wounded and dying. 
 
 As the pitiful cries of pain fell on my drowsy 
 ears, and the loss of companions weighed like lead 
 on my heart, the thought which burned into my 
 very soul, as tired nature sunk to rest, was that 
 war is man's shame, and never can be his glory. 
 
 During the night the Union army was reenforced 
 bythe arrival of Gen. Buell's command. Nextmarn- 
 ing we were attacked by an energy born of despera- 
 tion and returning hope. The fight of yesterday 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I95 
 
 was reversed to-day. We disputed every inch of 
 ground, but were forced back, and dark found us 
 at Shiloh church, just where the battle began the 
 previous morning. The loss in our company was 
 not as great as it was the day before, though it was 
 considerable. Dick Webb had received a severe 
 flesh wound, but kept with us. 
 
 When we had settled down for the night, George 
 found our camp. It was the first time we had 
 seen him since the death of Ben and Joe. As he 
 came up and stood in the dim, weird light of the 
 camp fire, he looked the very image of distress. 
 Sorrow spoke in every feature. He stood silent 
 for a moment, as if mastering his emotion, so as to 
 speak intelligently. He began: "I wants you, 
 please, to help me bury my young massas. De las' 
 thing ole massa tole me was, if de boys fell on de 
 battlefiel', to bury dem whar de graves could be 
 foun'. ' Fori want,' says he, ' to bring 'em home 
 to de ole cem't'ry.' " 
 
 Dolph was the one to speak: "Why, George, it is 
 impossible to get to them. It is a mile and a half 
 to where they fell, and the whole Yankee army is 
 between here and there." 
 
 "No, massa," George replied, " dey's right 
 down dis hollow, not more'n a half mile off. I 
 brought dem back las' night, an' to-day, when I 
 seed our army wus comin' back, I moved 'em 
 ag'in, an' kivered dem wid leaves, an' I tuk an' 
 blazed trees, an' looked how de logs lay about, so 
 I could be shore to fin' de place. An' late dis 
 
196 SAM WILLIAMS; 
 
 ebenin', when our soldiers passed by I was hid by 
 my young massas, an' hit was so late I thought 
 de Yankees wouldn't come dat fur. Dere picket 
 line is on dat hill [pointing in the direction], 
 an' our picket is on dis hill (pointing again), an' 
 young massas is down dis hollow between de lines. 
 An' by goin' down dis branch we can git dar 
 widout comin' to either line." 
 
 Before George had finished speaking, I saw that 
 John had fastened his shoes, secured his blanket, 
 and seemed to be impatient to go. But Dolph re- 
 plied: " How can we bury them without a spade 
 or anything to dig with. Then there is every 
 chance of being shot by either army, or captured 
 by the enemy and killed as spies." 
 
 "Massa," said George, *' I foun' a spade dis 
 mornin' an' hit's dar whar I can git it." 
 
 It needed no words to convince me that John 
 was going. I determined to share the danger with 
 him. Wishing to relieve the embarrassment of 
 Dolph, I remarked to him that it would hardly be 
 right to leave Dick without a nurse, and suggested 
 that he remain. That was a soothing potion to 
 Dolph' s sick spirit. Dick said he could take care 
 of himself, but Dolph developed at once a com- 
 mendable alacrity in administering to a fallen 
 brother. 
 
 George was, of course, mistaken about reaching 
 our camp without passing a picket line; he had 
 simply gotten through in the dark without attracting 
 attention. John said he himself had placed the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I97 
 
 guard and knew that in the direction we were to 
 go the sentinel was a good friend of his from 
 Plum Creek. Whether it was strict fidelity, the 
 reader must determine; but this sentinel, after 
 earnest remonstrance as to the danger, let us pass. 
 The picket line came in a curve, and crossed a 
 little run at that place, and from here on, as 
 George had reported, the picket Hnes were on ei- 
 ther hand just on the brow of the hills, with this 
 deep valley and little stream between. George led 
 the way. We three kept in close touch of each 
 other and moved noiselessly, so as not to awaken 
 suspicion. We could in the stillness hear the soft 
 tread of the sentinels of the two great armies. 
 The thick darkness in this deep valley was a 
 covering to make us glad. 
 
 The magnitude of our undertaking grew upon 
 me as we advanced. How we were to dig a 
 grave in the hearing of these lines without being 
 discovered was a problem. We came to a fallen 
 tree. George placed his hands on it and closely 
 scanned the surroundings. Finding that another 
 fallen trunk lay in a certain relative position to 
 the first one, he got over between these logs and 
 felt his way along till the bodies were found. 
 
 Right between those fallen trees, the grave was 
 carefully marked off by moving the leaves and 
 trash from the surface of the ground. John's fore- 
 thought was now apparent. He had brought a 
 small tin bucket, from which, to prevent noise, he 
 had broken the bails before leaving the camp. 
 
198 SAM WILLIAMS : 
 
 This served a good purpose in moving the soft, 
 humus soil. Fortunately, we encountered only- 
 small roots, and a good pocketknife served to cut 
 them away. 
 
 What with spade and bucket and hands, the 
 work of moving the dirt went on rapidly. In an 
 hour the grave was sufficiently deep. The bodies, 
 each wrapped in a soldier's blanket, were laid side 
 by side, and the grave was carefully filled. The re- 
 maining part of the task, that of getting back in- 
 side of our picket line, was soon accomplished. 
 We found our picket still on duty, and he warmly 
 congratulated us on the success of our mission. 
 
 Both armies appeared to have had fighting enough 
 for the present. We marched back to Corinth in 
 good order. Here our decimated ranks were to 
 some extent recruited, and a partial reorganization 
 took place. John was assigned to duty in another 
 regiment. I regretted very much the separation 
 from him. 
 
 When we broke up from Corinth, John's regi- 
 ment was ordered east, where, at Murfreesboro, 
 at Chickamauga, at Chattanooga, and at many oth- 
 er places of less note, he won distinction and rose 
 to the rank of major. 
 
 George was a hero in our regiment after the af- 
 fair at Shiloh became known. He voluntarily re- 
 mained with us most of that year. The question 
 of cooking dwindled to nothing in the presence 
 of the more important one of getting something to 
 cook. Having done his duty well, George retired 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. I99 
 
 from the army, and enjoyed the reputation of a hero 
 in the shades of private hfe. His devotion to what 
 he considered duty was remarkable. Not even 
 the superstitious dread of haunts and ghosts, char- 
 acteristic of his race, could shake his fidelity. 
 
 The wound which Dick Webb received at Shi- 
 loh proved to be more permanent in its effects than 
 was at first supposed. It disqualified him for in- 
 fantry service. He went home, raised a cavalry 
 company, and became its captain. In that capacity 
 he served with credit through the war. 
 
 One great battle effectually cured Dolph's pro- 
 pensity for hard fighting. Col. Parker had suffi- 
 cient influence to have him placed on a general's 
 staff, with the nominal commission of lieutenant. 
 In that position — a kind of life insurance policy — 
 he stuck the war gloriously through to the bitter 
 end. With these removals the " College Brigade " 
 was lost to histor}^. 
 
 Our regiment went south, in front of Gen. Grant's 
 forces, as he was trying to push along the line of 
 railroad to Vicksburg. Having gone about sev- 
 enty-five miles below Holly Springs, the destruc- 
 tion of the suppHes at that place, by Confederate 
 cavalry, caused Gen. Grant to change the plan of 
 attack. The Mississippi River was chosen as the 
 most feasible way of reaching Vicksburg. As we 
 could not have the honor of marching ahead of 
 him, as a sort of vanguard, all the way down to 
 Vicksburg, we hastened down to give him the 
 warmest reception we could on his arrival. We 
 
200 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 were there in good time, and paid our regards to 
 him when he crossed the river below the city and 
 landed on our side. 
 
 We gave a small entertainment at Port Gibson, 
 and something more at Raymond. When the 
 general insisted on visiting our capital, we insist- 
 ed on going with him. But we had no disposition 
 to violate any of the proprieties, and strictly ob- 
 served " regulation distance." When he and Gen. 
 Pemberton were greeting each other with such 
 warmth at Champion Hills and Big Black, we were 
 playing court a little in the rear; and when the 
 general invested Vicksburg, we on the outside in- 
 vested him I 
 
 This is the strain in which the soldiers who had 
 seen service at Shiloh were wont to speak of our 
 experience in the rear of Vicksburg. But the fall 
 of that devoted city is too serious a matter for jest. 
 That historic town was the scene of devotion and 
 daring excelled in no part of the world. When 
 the surrender was made, I felt a deep conviction 
 that the war was practically over in the West; and 
 that the Confederacy, born of so much enthusiasm 
 and defended with so much devotion, was doomed. 
 
 The proclamation of Mr. Lincoln freeing the 
 slaves left no doubt as to the intention of the vic- 
 tors. Sitting on the ground at the root of a tree, 
 by our camp, I faced the conditions, hard and in- 
 flexible as they were. To hold on grimly to the 
 end, and then meet the new problems of life brave- 
 ly, was all that could be done. The remainder of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 20I 
 
 this year ( 1863 ) was employed in marching, watch- 
 ing, and fighting, to prevent as far as possible, the 
 devastation of our native state. 
 
 Military operations with us had degenerated into 
 a kind of guerrilla warfare. We were no longer 
 able to attack the main body of the enemy, no 
 longer able to prevent the movements of large 
 forces. But we could prevent the country from 
 being despoiled by small bands of armed men. 
 In this way we kept the Union forces in closer 
 quarters, and thus saved to our people much that 
 would have gone to support the army of invasion. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 The Cave of Futurity. 
 
 ONE bright morning in the spring of 1864, the 
 scouts brought in the news that the enemy's 
 foraging party were devastating the country to our 
 left. As this was the section from which most of 
 our own supphes came, it was important to stop 
 the depredations. A cavalry command was sent 
 to surround and route them. To our company 
 was assigned the difficult task of getting between 
 the raiders and the main force, and thus intercept 
 them on the retreat, and, if possible, capture the 
 wagons. 
 
 We marched rapidly for some time. The road 
 led toward my home. Home, sweet home, now 
 not more than thirty miles distant, and yet so far 
 beyond my reach. How my heart went out to- 
 ward the loved ones there ! How I longed to see 
 them all ! My solicitude was all the greater be- 
 cause word had from time to time reached me that 
 my parents were in feeble health, my father es- 
 pecially; he was now no longer able to leave his 
 room. And they were at any time subject to in- 
 sult and spoliation, as the whole country was now 
 overrun by hostile troops. This sent a pang of 
 sorrow, indignation, and humiliation to my very 
 heart. 
 
 (202) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 2O3 
 
 I had managed to keep up an irregular corre- 
 spondence with Susie. Her letters, through all the 
 years of war, years of hardships and dangers, 
 hunger and thirst, cold and heat, had bound me to 
 hope. How vivid was her image before me as we 
 marched in silence that morning. Her constant 
 sympathy and words of encouragement had more 
 than ever bound to her my very soul. I thought 
 if I could but secure an honorable peace, with 
 Susie left as my own, I could ask no higher boon. 
 The more I realized the sad decadence of worldly 
 prospects, the more this one treasure of my hope 
 filled the entire circle of my desires. 
 
 But my thoughts were soon demanded by pres- 
 ent emergencies. The scouts sent out had failed 
 to report. I saw that our captain was getting un- 
 easy. Nothing could be heard of the cavalry 
 which was expected to overtake the raiders in a 
 few hours. We marched on, expecting every anx- 
 ious moment to hear from our reconnoitering party. 
 Their failure to keep us posted was certainly om- 
 inous. The whole company shared the uneasiness 
 now too plainly visible in our officers. Our march 
 became slower, and we became silent and vigilant. 
 
 All at once we were startled by a rush of troops 
 from the brush to our right. We saw at a glance 
 that we had been surprised by a superior force. 
 But we had been through too many hard places to 
 become panic-stricken. The command to surren- 
 der came clear and distinct on the mornincr air. 
 The case seemed so hopeless for us that our gen- 
 
204 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 erous foe did not fire, no doubt thinking it unnec- 
 essary. 
 
 Capt. Benson never exhibited cooler bravery. 
 His words of command were spoken too low to be 
 heard by the enemy, but in such earnest tones as 
 to be instantly obeyed. The road at this place 
 was on a ridge. To form in line and retreat back- 
 ward down the declivity into the thick woods was 
 the work of a moment. We at once had the ad- 
 vantage of position. We were under shelter of 
 trees and brush, and the elevation on which the 
 road was located was nature's own breastwork. 
 Charging over this, the foe was exposed to our 
 fire. 
 
 Though we were outnumbered three to one, we 
 were making such use of our advantages that we 
 might have held our position had we not been 
 charged upon by a cavalry force equal in numbers 
 to that we were holding at bay. Retreat was out 
 of the question. Surrender was all that was left 
 us. I plainly heard the order to " stack arms! " 
 and heard the stacking. Then there was momen- 
 tary darkness. When I came to myself, I saw as I 
 lay on the ground the trunk of a fallen tree, which 
 had been burned out till it was a mere shell. Into 
 this I crawled out of sight. Lying there concealed, 
 I heard the command given for my company to 
 march off. Then I was lost in slumber or uncon- 
 sciousness. When I roused up, it was late in the 
 afternoon, and I was all alone. The mounds of 
 fresh earth showed too plainly the work of the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 20$ 
 
 mornincr. How many of my comrades had been 
 killed and how many captured, I knew not. I 
 was conscious of having received a terrible blow 
 on the head; but as I was not very bloody, I con- 
 cluded that my wound had been made by the butt 
 of a gun, and not by a bullet. 
 
 When I had collected my thoughts the best I 
 could, I tried to fix in my mind, by the aid of the 
 setting sun, the cardinal points, so that I could get 
 the direction home. To get home was now the 
 all-absorbing thought. I concluded that it was best 
 to follow for many miles yet the plain road that we 
 had come. Wounded, weak, and dizzy, I pulled 
 myself up for the important task of reaching home. 
 It was nearly night; but this was fortunate, as my 
 chances for escaping the enemy were thereby in- 
 creased. 
 
 For some time I saw no sign of dwellings. 
 When I did come to houses, they seemed to be de- 
 serted. The people had either hidden out or were 
 afraid to have hghts burning. A fight in the 
 neighborhood makes the people very cautious. 
 As I toiled on I began to have terrible thirst and 
 to feel the pangs of hunger. Finally about lo 
 o'clock at night I reached a house where I heard 
 voices. The people were very slow to heed my 
 calls, but I finally got a hearing. When I ex- 
 plained that I was a soldier in the Southern army, 
 and that I had escaped from the fearful fight and 
 capture of the morning, I was received with hearty 
 welcome. 
 
2o6 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 Water to drink and water to bathe in; what a 
 luxury! I found an old man in charge of the 
 home. He and his wife and two daughters would 
 under other circumstances have completed the 
 household; but now a widowed daughter, whose 
 husband had been killed in battle, was, with her 
 several children, living there for such protection as 
 she could find. Then there were two daughters-in- 
 law, whose husbands were in the army. They and 
 their children swelled the responsibilities of the 
 aged couple. They had a sad tale of woe, but 1 
 was too tired, sick, and foot-sore to listen long. 
 They had evidently been well off, but now the 
 great plantation was a wreck. 
 
 There was but little to eat on the place, but they 
 freely gave the best they had. For the first time 
 in many months I enjoyed the luxury of a bed. It 
 was broad daylight when I awoke. The old gen- 
 tlemen gave me directions as to the way home, and 
 the probable whereabouts of the enemy. So I 
 had but little apprehension of being captured. I 
 walked on slowly till about noon, when I called at 
 a house and got dinner. Here, as elsewhere all 
 along the way, I saw dilapidation, devastation, and 
 ruin. All the able-bodied men were in the army. 
 Only the old and infirm, the women and children, 
 and such slaves as chose to remain, were to be 
 found. The plantations had shrunk to patches; 
 the fences having been drawn in, and the greater 
 part of the fields abandoned to weeds. 
 
 But I was glad to see fewer evidences of devas- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 207 
 
 tatlon as I reached nearer home. There were no 
 indications of the enemy in this section at present. 
 And as I had time, for it was now not more than 
 twelve miles home, I rested an hour before starting 
 on the way. I knew all the country and most of 
 the people on the way home, so I could afford to 
 take my time. 
 
 But as the afternoon wore away I became tired, 
 gloomy, and apprehensive. I became strangely 
 nervous. Everything appeared distorted and pain- 
 fully dislocated. I could see only the dark side, 
 and everything was fearfully distinct and aug- 
 mented on that side. I was now approaching 
 home under very peculiar circumstances. I had 
 no papers, no visible excuse for my absence. 
 Wasn't I liable to be arrested and carried back? 
 Suppose I should meet with an officer who should 
 refuse to believe my version of the capture ? Then, 
 was the capture of my company a valid excuse for 
 my coming home ? Was it not my duty to report 
 to my command the fate of my company? Sup- 
 pose I should be accused of desertion and tried for 
 that cowardly offense ? The very thought seemed 
 to freeze my blood. 
 
 Strange all these things had not occurred to me 
 before. Now every question seemed to be pointed 
 with a dagger ! Could I face Susie under these 
 circumstances? Then, am I really sure that my 
 company was captured ? I was evidently in poor 
 condition to know what was going on. Stunned 
 as I was, how do I know but the capture was the 
 
2o8 SAM WILLIAMS; 
 
 mistake of a disordered brain? What if I should 
 be accused of desertion, and my story of the cap- 
 ture should prove false ? 
 
 My head grew dizzy and my heart grew faint. 
 I reeled to a log beside the road, where I sat 
 down. Resting my throbbing head in my hands, 
 I groaned aloud. Surely I could not go home. I 
 was not more than two miles away, and was likely 
 to be recognized by any one passing. What was 
 I to do? Plainly it appeared to me that I had no 
 proper showing to explain my absence from the 
 army. To go back now in my feeble condition 
 was almost out of the question. Without any defi- 
 nite purpose, I took a dim path which led me from 
 the main road. I was just then hardly capable of 
 any definite purpose. 
 
 I needed time for reflection ; and yet reflection 
 was goading me to despair. The whole prospect 
 was gloomy. The country was overrun and deso- 
 late. We seemed to be fighting in a vain cause, 
 only to meet inevitable defeat at last. Already our 
 levies had drawn out the entire manhood of the 
 country from eighteen to sixty. We have no other 
 recruits, and still we retreat and give up the coun- 
 try to devastation. 
 
 Then, to crown all other misfortunes, I am here 
 liable to arrest for desertion. Disgrace may be 
 added to defeat, and the loss of character go with 
 the loss of all besides. How I wished that there 
 was some way to surround the present difficulties ! 
 If I could only go around one year and come back 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 2O9 
 
 into the path of life ! That would be like sur- 
 rounding an impassable mountain. I remember the 
 distinct wish came into my mind that I could discov- 
 er here in these woods a cave of futurity that would 
 in some mysterious way lead out into future time. 
 
 That wish seemed to be the forerunner of the 
 reality, for just before me was a bluff with a 
 cave opening into its side. I stopped to consider. 
 I looked far into the cave, and all the way the bot- 
 tom was smooth and covered with beautiful moss. 
 The sides of the cavern were regular and came to- 
 gether overhead, leaving a space of about eight 
 feet from floor to apex. The moss growing around 
 the mouth of the cave had such a peculiar appear- 
 ance that it attracted my especial attention. To 
 my surprise, I could trace in large letters of living 
 moss the words forming an arch over the mouth of 
 the cavern: " The Cave of Futurity." 
 
 What did it mean? Surely there was no such 
 cave here when T used to ramble over these woods. 
 This was the hill country to the north of our home 
 where I used to hunt rabbits. I was familiar with 
 it all. But here is the cave. How can I have such 
 a dreamlike experience in daylight, when I am 
 conscious of being wide awake. I felt a strong 
 desire to go in and explore. Afraid to go home 
 or to be seen by any one, and too weak to return 
 to the army, there was little inducement just then 
 to stay out. I saw from a glance at the sun that it 
 was nearly night. Here was a chance, too, for 
 undisturbed rest. 
 14 
 
2IO SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 So I went in. The floor of the cave all the way 
 as I went was covered with soft, beautiful moss. 
 I was astonished to find the passage light enough 
 to walk without difficulty. The cave was level and 
 straight all the way. It seemed to me that I must 
 have walked a mile, when it began to grow dark. 
 It was night. Just to one side I saw a mossy 
 mound about the size and shape of a couch. I 
 was safe here for the present. There was no evi- 
 dence that any one was in the habit of penetrating 
 this seclusion. So being tired and sleepy I laid 
 down on the soft bed of nature's own making and 
 felt so calm and pleasant, the tension of my nerves 
 completely relaxed, and I was soon in deep, rest- 
 ful slumber. 
 
 It was broad day when I awoke. The cavern 
 looked even more light and airy than on the pre- 
 vious evening. I could see more than a hundred 
 yards either way. The cave seemed to be a 
 straight tunnel as uniform in size as if made by 
 human skill. A desire to still further explore this 
 strange passage led me to go on. As it was not 
 more than a mile back to the mouth of the cavern, 
 I could easily return after making further search. 
 So I walked on very briskly for some time. 
 
 I was thoroughly rested. The mental gloom of 
 the evening before was all gone. I felt again the 
 elasticity and hope of youth. When I walked far 
 enough to count about one mile, I saw an opening 
 before me. The light grew brighter, and it was 
 soon apparent that I was reaching the end of the 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 211 
 
 tunnel. I walked out into the bright morning sun- 
 light. The sun was about two hours high, and the 
 day was beautiful. That such a tunnel as this, at 
 least two miles long, should exist here in the very 
 neighborhood of my home, and never heard of, 
 was marvelous. It came out of the side of a hill. 
 At this end it looked Hke an ordinary cavern, with 
 nothing to attract special attention. 
 
 The tunnel had led me under a range of hills in 
 such a direction that I thought I must be about the 
 same distance from home I was the evening before. 
 These were the same hills over which I had ridden 
 with John Henderson years before down to Plum 
 Creek Church as recorded in this faithful history. 
 I was confident of my whereabouts, and knew there 
 was a road on this side the hills leading up to my 
 home. It was now my purpose to find that road 
 and go home, see my aged parents, and greet my 
 lovely Susie, and then report to the command. I 
 had done no wrong, why should I be afraid? So 
 finding a little path leading in the right direction, 
 I set out through the brush to find the road. 
 
 But what a surprise when I reached the road, to 
 find it skirted by an elegant iron fence. How came 
 such an improvement in war times? A beautiful 
 gate let me out, only to find still greater surprises. 
 For instead of the old dirt road, here was a paved 
 highway smooth and level as a floor. Still greater 
 was the astonishment to see a country beyond the 
 road dotted with splendid country residences, great 
 barns, neat schoolhouses, elegant churches, and 
 
212 SAM Williams: 
 
 busy windmills, all well constructed and elegantly 
 painted. As far as I could see there lay before me 
 such a country as I had never seen before. What 
 I had read in books of travel about the most highly 
 cultivated parts of Europe was the only thing of 
 which I had ever heard approaching this scene in 
 the splendor of its elegance. 
 
 I knew this country was covered only a year or 
 two ago either with forests or cotton farms. Mr. 
 Benson's farm lay right along this range of hills. 
 The morning I set out with mother and mam- 
 my on our trip to Louisiana, we went right along 
 this road, with the plantation on one side and these 
 hills on the other. But now here are green mead- 
 ows smooth and beautiful ; luxuriant pastures with 
 finest herds of cattle grazing on them. Then 
 what elegantly painted houses ! How artistic the 
 fences, delicately dreamlike in beauty, dividing 
 land from land ! 
 
 But when I had time to collect my thoughts a 
 little, I noticed that all the fences were made of 
 iron. The posts were semicircular half-tubes 
 about four feet high and set alternately in the 
 ground and in transverse bases about three feet 
 long. The fences presented little surface to the 
 wind, and stood firmly. 
 
 I thought this must surely be a land of enchant- 
 ment, where wonder succeeds wonder. I could 
 not believe such improvements possible in so short 
 a time. Yet everything looked real. Why should 
 I doubt my senses more here than I had been ac- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 213 
 
 customed to doubt them all through life? As I 
 stood lost in wonder and wrapped in thought, my 
 attention was arrested by a passing carriage. It 
 was fairylike in its elegant lightness. I was sur- 
 prised at how little noise it made. The gentleman 
 and lady were large and fine-looking, with an air 
 of distinction, but I knew them not. Hardly 
 knowing what to do, I started toward hom.e. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 The Strange Country. 
 
 I HAD gone but a short distance when the wood- 
 land from which I had emerged gave way to 
 the same high state of cultivation. On both sides 
 of the road were the richest pastures and rarest 
 herds, with green meadows, elegant houses, fairy- 
 like fences, with intervening fields for crops. 
 Everywhere were evidences of the highest type of 
 civilization. Here was a joint reign of peace and 
 plenty. Wealth and culture had united in the pro- 
 duction of the best. 
 
 This country north of the road had been consid- 
 ered too hilly for successful farming. It was cov- 
 ered with heavy forest timber. But here were the 
 same hills with not a trace of timber on them. 
 The hills were tei raced, and green, level swards 
 and cultivated areas, one above the other, present- 
 ed a most lovely appearance. I was amazed at the 
 number as well as the elesfance of the residences. 
 The whole country was full of people. Again and 
 again while I was making these observations, the 
 elegant carriages of different patterns and various 
 sizes rolled by, each maintaining a cultured silence. 
 But every human face was strange. The people 
 had a strange if not a foreign appearance. 
 
 I had never before seen such cattle as were graz- 
 (214) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 215 
 
 ing in herds far and near. Each herd was uni- 
 form in general appearance. They were of dis- 
 tinct breeds. Some were black, some white, some 
 of variegated colors; some had peculiar horns; 
 some had no horns; but each had well-defined 
 characteristics. I had never seen thoroufrhbred 
 
 o 
 
 cattle, but I knew them at once. 
 
 But what most attracted my attention, and 
 which made the strongest impression on my mind, 
 was the fact that the people were so much larger 
 than those I had known. I was, among my com- 
 panions, of more than ordinary size; but here I 
 felt diminutive. Then they were so uniform, both 
 in size and appearance. As I afterward learned, 
 the average weight of the men was about two hun- 
 dred and twenty. And few varied much from this 
 standard. There were no giants and no pigmies. 
 I concluded that the people, like their stock, must 
 be thoroughbred. The ladies especially had this 
 appearance. They were large but delicately 
 rounded, smooth-featured, easy and graceful in 
 motion. They had every appearance of being 
 highly cultured, independent in thought, yet wom- 
 anly in every fiber of their nature. 
 
 Passing a piece of land devoted to crops, I no- 
 ticed a highly polished machine, of compact build, 
 at work on the margin of the field near the road. 
 At the distance of about four hundred feet down in 
 the field was another machine of the same kind. I 
 would have thought that they were steam engines, 
 but they were making very little noise and produc- 
 
2l6 SAJVI WILLIAMS: 
 
 ing no smoke. They were used for plowing. A 
 wire rope band, working on pulleys, was stretched 
 across the field from one engine to the other. 
 The pulleys were four feet in diameter and ran 
 horizontally. Thus the two sections of the band 
 were four feet apart and equal distances from the 
 ground. 
 
 The plows were attached to frames and arranged 
 in pairs — that is, with points in opposite directions 
 so as to plow either way. There were plows 
 enough on each frame to plow out a row at a time. 
 These frames were pulled by the opposite stretches 
 of wire rope, and so arranged that the plows 
 reached opposite ends of the rows at the samic time. 
 Thus two rows were plowed at once, the plows 
 moving in opposite directions. Trucks at each 
 end of the frames served to regulate the depth of 
 the plowing, and made the work lighter. 
 
 As soon as the plows reached the engines they 
 were lifted entirely out of the ground by an auto- 
 matic attachment. The machines then moved up 
 just eight feet, and the plows came down in exact 
 position to work two other rows. The work went 
 on rapidly. The two men with their machines could 
 easily plow from twenty to thirty acres per day. 
 
 I asked the man in charge what the machine 
 was called. He stared at me with such an expres- 
 sion of astonishment that I felt embarrassed. But 
 I persisted in my questions until I succeeded in 
 making him understand. His reply was nearly as 
 puzzling to me as m}^ question had been to him. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 21 7 
 
 But making allowance for a strange dialect and 
 stranger pronunciation, I made out to interpret his 
 reply thus: "It's a mo, of course." 
 
 Just then the plow had reached the end of the 
 row, and he turned to his work as if he was more 
 interested in his " mo " than in my strange speech 
 and grotesque appearance. As soon, however, as 
 the plow started back, he turned to have a better 
 look at the uncouth stranger. This encouraged 
 me to ask further questions. I asked if he knew 
 an old gentleman living near here by the name of 
 Williams. To my astonishment he said there was 
 no such person living in the country. He thought 
 there were some young men of that name in the city. 
 I asked about the Brantletts. He knew a family of 
 that name living in the city; none in the country. 
 
 I was completely stunned and dumbfounded. 
 But I finally asked the name of the city, and how 
 far to it. The name was " Comos," and it was 
 three miles off. The name sounded a little like 
 that of our depot, and the distance was what I ex- 
 pected. As one in a dream, bewildered, I started 
 toward where I used to have a home. 
 
 This short conversation, while it, like everything 
 else, seemed to indicate my removal from all fa- 
 miliar scenes and persons, was still to some extent 
 reassuring. For really the transformation had 
 been so great, and the people were so strange, that 
 I was afraid I might find them speaking a language 
 entirely strange to me. I was glad to find, there- 
 fore, in my venture with the man at the " mo," 
 
2l8 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 that I could, though with difficulty, convey and re- 
 ceive ideas. I had caught a few items in regard to 
 the pronunciation and the construction of simple 
 sentences, and was determined to make the most 
 of them. 
 
 But the people I passed seemed to be unap- 
 proachable. They were well-dressed, fine-looking 
 people, not to be annoyed by simple or unintelligi- 
 ble questions. It is embarrassing to stop a man 
 who seems to be going somewhere, the man with 
 an object in view. It is the loitering man in shab- 
 by clothes, with nothing to do, whose position in- 
 vites questions. How I longed to meet a " common 
 man in vile raiment" who would have time to sit 
 down and chat ! Or, best of all, if I could only meet 
 a plantation negro. Then I could learn all about 
 the situation. Not a thing going on in the neigh- 
 borhood but I could know it all. What has become 
 of the slaves ? This country certainly should be alive 
 with them, yet not one is to be seen. 
 
 But everywhere I could see only the same type 
 of man. These thoroughbred people, as I had 
 come to think of them, seemed to fill the whole 
 land. And how multitudinous they were! Walk- 
 ing on, my attention was attracted by a strange 
 building by the road. It seemed to be a tower 
 having an open space near the top just under the 
 roof. Around the lower part of this open space, 
 covering the banisters, was a web of white cloth 
 over a yard wide stretching entirely around the 
 building. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 219 
 
 A man up in the tower, projecting his head over 
 the canvas, looked down at me with a kindly ex- 
 pression of countenance. A narrow flight of 
 spiral iron steps around the outside of the tower 
 led from the ground to the space above. As this 
 offered a good view of the country, and as I knew 
 that 1 was near home and yet could not recognize 
 a single feature of the landscape, much less any 
 houses or other familiar evidences of my where- 
 abouts, I determined to venture up this stairway 
 for observation and inquiry. When I reached the 
 landing above, about sixty feet from the ground, 
 the man kindly swung back a little door, which 
 also supported its portion of canvas, and invited 
 me to enter. 
 
 By this time I had concluded to be more dis- 
 creet, and to find out the meaning of my present 
 situation. So I said to the stranger: " I am in the 
 strange condition of not knowing where I am. I 
 find myself among strangers whose language I can 
 scarcely understand. Every object is strange. 
 And all this just where it appears to me that I am 
 in the immediate vicinity of my home, where every 
 object ought to be familiar, and I should know 
 every man I meet." I told him my name, and 
 asked about my father and neighbors. No such 
 people lived in that country. Completely dejected, 
 what could even a soldier do but give way to grief? 
 The man was moved with sympathy. He ques- 
 tioned me closely as to how I came into the country. 
 
 I told him the whole truth, as it was surely 
 
220 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 mapped on my memory. The reference to the 
 war and to the battle two days ago, as well as to 
 the story of the cave or tunnel under the hills only 
 a mile or two off, were to him such marvelous ab- 
 surdities that he could only regard me as out of 
 my mind. I showed him my wounded head as 
 evidence of the truth of my story. This still more 
 confirmed him in the belief that my mind was 
 wrong. But it furnished him, as he thought, with 
 a clew as to how I came in the country. Scanning 
 me with closest scrutiny, he asked me if I had not 
 fallen from the airship which had passed over the 
 country yesterday. This furnished me with equal- 
 ly good grounds to doubt the normal condition of 
 his wits. But I had experienced so many surpris- 
 es that I was ready to accept anything, however 
 wonderful. I simply inquired about airships, stat- 
 ing that I had never seen one and did not know 
 that such things exist. This proved to him more 
 clearly that I was the victim of some mental de- 
 fect. I had the appearance of being worn and 
 tired, and the kind-hearted man suggested that I 
 might need food. This was a timely hint, and I 
 told him that I had eaten nothing since yesterday 
 at dinner. He said that he and his chum kept 
 some confections and fruits to while away the 
 tedium of their watch, and at once, going to a large 
 closet, he produced a bountiful store. Never food 
 came in better time. Having satisfied my hunger, 
 I rose up to make observations. The first thing to 
 be seen was the great city, now in full view. The 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 221 
 
 city was regularly laid off, the broad streets cross- 
 ing each Other at right angles. The streets ran 
 entirely through the city each way, being about 
 four miles long. They were broad and beautiful, 
 and so set with trees that the city looked almost 
 like a forest. I concluded that I had as well ac- 
 cept the situation, for understand it I could not. 
 Such changes as these could not by any means 
 have taken place since I was at home. I was in- 
 volved in mystery beyond all my powers of reason 
 to unravel. 
 
 Having looked long at the city, I began to make 
 inquiries, and soon learned the character of some 
 of the largest and most conspicuous buildings. I 
 finally asked how old was the city. My compan- 
 ion repHed: "Well, the country has been settled 
 about thirteen hundred years; the city, I suppose, 
 was founded soon after the settlement of the coun- 
 try. It was first a village, then a town; probably 
 the city proper is not more than seven or eight 
 hundred years old." I was more than ever con- 
 founded. Where have I been cast? I know no 
 country this side of the ocean could claim such an- 
 tiquity as that, and here are all the marks of an old 
 settled country. 
 
 Having surveyed the city all over, I turned 
 to take observations of the country. The beauty 
 of the scenery was fascinating beyond description. 
 From our elevated position we could see five or 
 six miles in every direction. The country was 
 gently undulating in every direction except to the 
 
222 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 north, where it was decidedly rolling. But every- 
 where was the same high state of cultivation. The 
 same kind of elegant improvements in all direc- 
 tions gave an artistic beauty to the whole landscape. 
 The airy fences, in particular, stretching over the 
 wavelike unevenness of the land; now going 
 down in the depressions ; now scaling the distant 
 elevations; now running along the valley; now 
 marking the center of the ridge ; other strands in- 
 tersecting or crossing, like border traceries in an 
 endless garden; now stretching in pairs, indicat- 
 ing roads or lanes ; now in single strands, dividing 
 meadow from pasture and pasture from crops; 
 now inclosing beautiful yards, now bountiful gar- 
 dens and lovely orchards. Surely no painter's 
 brush or poet's pen ever described a scene so fair. 
 While I was admiring this scenery, a train of 
 cars came in view. As I knew there was no road 
 in that direction when I left home, I uttered an ex- 
 clamation of surprise. " Yes," replied my com- 
 panion, " the train on the Northwestern is coming 
 in also," and suiting the motion of the hand to the 
 words, waved it toward the northwest. Sure 
 enough there was another train. " The trains," 
 he said, " make the same time to the cit}^, as does 
 also the northbound train on the Omaha and 
 Pensacola," and pointing southeast, said, "you 
 see the train coming now." I did see the train 
 coming on the old familiar track I had alwa3^s 
 heard called by another name. I was so dazed 
 that surprise had almost ceased to be astonishing. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 223 
 
 I had now tarried here till politeness required I 
 should move on. But where was I to go? From 
 this tower I had surveyed the whole country where 
 I had expected to find my home, and not a vestige of 
 the home is left. It seemed that I had no home 
 and no friends, nowhere to go and nothing to 
 do. Adrift on the tossing waves of the world 
 without an anchor, I had somehow lost my iden- 
 tity, and with it all my connections. 
 
 The old adage that we should hunt for a thing 
 where it was lost came to me, and I resolved to 
 go back through the cave. Thus I hoped to re- 
 gain my proper position, establish my identity, and 
 with it my true connection with the world. But 
 common politeness required me to be affable to 
 the gentleman who had befriended me. So I in- 
 quired his name, that I might return his kindness 
 should opportunity ever occur. I also asked him 
 what was the use of the tower he had in charge. 
 
 "This is a signal station," was the reply. But 
 as he savvT I did not understand, he explained: 
 "This is a weather signal station. We have all 
 the instruments to indicate changes of the weather: 
 when it will rain, when it will be stormy, or when 
 it will be cold. By a proper display of bunting of 
 different colors, the people are forewarned of 
 these changes. When the display is white only, 
 as it is now, this indicates dry weather. We make 
 observations every two hours ; and if a change is in- 
 dicated, we make the proper display of color. By 
 the way, it is now time to make an observation." 
 
224 ^^^ WILLIAMS; 
 
 Examining his instruments, he said there was a 
 call now for a strip of yellow bunting. Opening the 
 door of the closet again, he brought out a strip of 
 yellow cloth about twelve inches wide, with hooks 
 on one edge. This he proceeded to hook on around 
 the lower part of the white canvas. As this afforded 
 me something to do, I gladly offered to help. This 
 was cheerfully accepted, and we very soon exhib- 
 ited to the farmers twelve inches in favor of rain. 
 
 My companion explained that if the indications 
 of rain increased other strips of yellow would be 
 added ; and when the whole space is covered with 
 yellow, rain is expected to begin at any moment. 
 He said that if wind is indicated this is made 
 known by black cloth. Before severe storms tha 
 whole space is covered with black. Then no citi- 
 zen should venture out. These stations, he ex- 
 plained, are places at such distances apart that all 
 the people can have one constantly in sight. 
 
 Thanking my new friend for his information, I 
 was taking leave when he detained me to ask 
 where I was going and what I expected to do. I 
 told him frankly that I was so bewildered that I 
 had no well-defined purpose ; that I had some 
 hope of meeting with friends by going back a few 
 miles. He then told me that he was to make his last 
 observation at i8 o'clock, and would then walk into 
 the city, and if I did not meet my friends and 
 would be back by that time, we could go in togeth- 
 er, and he would show me a place to spend the 
 night. I thanked him very heartily, and started 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 225 
 
 back to find the cave, which I hoped would lead 
 me back to the world of my acquaintances. 
 
 I walked very rapidly like a man who had busi- 
 ness, and was going to give it attention. The 
 woods soon came in view, and I took courage. I 
 went at such pace that I was in a short time at the 
 gate where I had come out but a few hours before. 
 I found the little path and made rapid steps toward 
 the cave's mouth. But what was my disappoint- 
 ment on reaching the hill to find no sign of a cave 
 there. Again and again I went back to the gate 
 to take a new start, and tried over and over to find 
 the cave, but always with the same disappointing 
 result. 
 
 I felt like one fairly caught in a trap. I had 
 taken the fatal step from which there seemed no 
 retreat. Shut out from home and Susie ! The 
 woods were searched thoroughly, and found to be 
 only a small reservation of about fifty acres. In 
 the evening people came leisurely in at the gate 
 seeking recreation. I approached a young man 
 and asked him if he knew of any cave in these 
 woods. He was surprised at my strange speech; 
 but after two trials I made him understand the 
 question. "O no," he said; "there is no cave 
 in this reservation." As there was nothing else 
 to do, I returned to the signal tower and went with 
 Mr. Dorman into the city. 
 15 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The Strange City. 
 
 IT was dark when we reached the city. Mr. 
 Dorman conducted me to a small boardingr 
 house, where he said I would have a comfortable 
 rest. To say that I was tired, hungry, exhausted, 
 was hardly doing justice to the case. I had taken 
 but one light repast of confections and fruits since 
 yesterday at noon. Mind and body were alike 
 worn out. A delightful supper was spread, and I 
 did full justice to its excellence. I retired early 
 and had a good rest. 
 
 As soon as breakfast was over next morning a 
 difficulty arose on account of the Confederate 
 money I offered in payment of my bill. I told the 
 straight truth about the matter. I was at once re- 
 garded as insane. Quite a number of persons 
 were present, and they all expressed the same 
 opinion. Mine host said it was his duty to report 
 the matter. Mine host no doubt is a conscientious 
 citizen and intends to perform his duty to the state. 
 As soon as he was off on that mission, and I 
 thought it safe to do so, I stepped aside and made 
 my way back to the signal station to take counsel 
 of the only person to whom I could appeal. I told 
 Mr. Dorman the trouble I was in, and showed him 
 the money I had offered. 
 (226) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 227 
 
 He scanned the money very closely, and direct- 
 ly exclaimed: " Why this bill is a thousand years 
 old." 
 
 I showed him that it bore the date of 1864. 
 
 " That," said he, " is what I see." 
 
 "Well," I replied, " don't you see the money 
 is fresh from the press? " 
 
 " I see," was the answer, " it looks new enough 
 to have been printed yesterday. But here is the 
 date," and his finger was pointing to the figures, 
 1864. 
 
 " Certainly," said I, " that is the date, the date 
 of this very year, and the money came direct from 
 the Capitol at Richmond, and was paid to me not 
 two weeks ago." 
 
 The look he gave me was one of astonishment, 
 mingled with compassion. 
 
 Changing the subject abruptly, he said pleas- 
 anly, " I rode out on my cycle this morning, and 
 I can readily go into the city, and sell the bill as a 
 curiosity. Such things are much in demand." 
 Then calling down to a friend at the house near 
 by, he added: " I will get Frank Love to take my 
 next observation, and I will have ample time to 
 look after your matter. If you so desire, I can 
 pay your bill out of the proceeds of sale." 
 
 I thanked him very much. 
 
 Stepping to one side he remarked: " I will send 
 the elevator after Frank." 
 
 He touched a little knob and the platform of the 
 elevator descended with great speed, and we soon 
 
228 SAAI WILLIAMS: 
 
 heard the merry voice of Frank; *'A11 right, 
 Tom;" and Frank was landed in our midst. 
 
 I was introduced as a stranger from Spanish 
 America. Mr. Dorman gave me a meaning look 
 as he rather emphasized the words, Spanish Amer- 
 ica. I had no motive to deceive, but thought it best 
 to be silent. And I found it greatly to my advan- 
 tage to be regarded as a stranger, as that would 
 account for my strange speech. Frank readily 
 agreed to stay and take observations, and Mr. 
 Dorman stepped on the elevator and waved us 
 adieu as he descended out of sight. 
 
 He was soon speeding along the smooth road 
 on his cycle to the city. I was surprised to see 
 that he was not using any visible means to drive 
 the machine. His feet rested in stirrups, and he 
 seemed perfectly at ease. I asked my new friend 
 what propelled the cycle. 
 
 "It is magnetic force," he answered. *' The 
 weight of the rider brings the magnets in position ; 
 and his position in the saddle regulates the force ; 
 the speed being increased by sitting further back." 
 
 Indulging the hope that a time might come to 
 examine this machine, I resolved to make use of 
 the present opportunity to inquire about the signal 
 service, from whose station we were now keeping 
 watch. Frank was at once full of the subject. 
 
 *' The object of the service," he began, " is to 
 warn people in advance of the kind of weather we 
 are to have. As everybody knows what kind of 
 weather to expect at least twenty-four hours in ad- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 229 
 
 vance, each day's work may be intelligently 
 planned. The service has a very good idea of the 
 weather a week in advance, but for practical pur- 
 poses the display on the canvases at the stations 
 is for twenty-four hours ahead. Any one wishing 
 to travel or to plan work which requires several 
 days of sunshine may consult the agents at the 
 stations, and so be informed of the weather several 
 days in advance. Whenever a severe storm is 
 arising, or a disastrous cold wave is coming, the 
 fact is published at once, with the date at which 
 the crisis is to be expected." 
 
 I expressed surprise that the changes should be 
 known so far in advance. 
 
 *'No trouble whatever, he replied, "we only 
 have to hear from the source of the storm. Then 
 knowing its momentum, and the track it is on, we 
 readily know when the disturbance will reach any 
 section of the country. We know as well when a 
 cargo of flour leaving Winnipeg will arrive here, 
 as if it started only at the next station." 
 
 As he said this he pointed along the track of 
 the Northwestern, indicating the way the cargo 
 would come. 
 
 When I asked him how news could be had from 
 the source of the storm, he replied: " By having 
 a man at headquarters. Every disturbance must 
 begin somewhere, and by having men everywhere, 
 we are sure to have one at the right place. Re- 
 ports of storms often come first from some of the 
 outlying West Indies, Barbadoes, Grenada, or 
 
230 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 Trinidad, and frequently from stations further out. 
 From equatorial Africa and the Indian Ocean come 
 reports of disturbances to be dreaded," 
 
 '• Why," I asked, "is it possible the govern- 
 ment has men stationed so far off?" 
 
 " O," was the reply, "the service is interna- 
 tional. All nations are alike interested, and the 
 expense is equitably borne by all." 
 
 I did not like to appear so very ignorant, but I 
 reflected that it was better to show my ignorance 
 here to this youth than for it to appear to all whom 
 I may meet. To reveal ignorance at the proper 
 time is the way to have it cured. So I ventured 
 to ask how long the service had been established. 
 
 " Hundreds of years," he replied. " For a long 
 time each nation had a separate service. But as 
 this was manifestly deficient, the present plan, em- 
 bracing all the leading nations, was at last brought 
 to its present high state of efficiency. Our country 
 claims the honor of leadership both in discovery and 
 development. Just a few days ago the very learned 
 Dr. Simpson, in an address to the university classes 
 showed that the great Prof. Maury, who lived in 
 this country about a thousand years ago, was the 
 great founder of the system. The doctor was 
 truly eloquent on this subject. It is a specialty 
 with him, as he has written several books to show 
 that Prof. Maury is justly entitled to this honor," 
 
 Just at this point Mr. Dorman came in. He had 
 sold my ten dollar Confederate note for eighty 
 dollars, and said, as if apology was necessary, that 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 231 
 
 if he had not been pressed for time he could have 
 sold it for more. He had paid for the night's lodg- 
 ing. He seemed to be cheerful, but there was 
 something about his manner that was not reassur- 
 ing. I was afraid all was not right. 
 
 Frank took leave of us, and then my friend pro- 
 ceeded to tell the real truth. I had been reported 
 as insane. 
 
 "The authorities," he warned me, " are very- 
 strict in these matters. Dr. Simpson, one of the 
 curators of the university, is the leading man on the 
 Examining Board. I had a talk with him, and as- 
 sured him that you were not insane ; that I thought 
 you had fallen from the Spanish- American ship, and 
 the fall had affected your memory. That I think 
 is the case. Now I want to give you some advice. 
 If you run on about a war and getting wounded, 
 and having money paid you by a government, 
 whose very existence only the bookworms have 
 heard of, they will surely think you insane, and 
 send you to the asylum." 
 
 I thanked him and told him I would be discreet. 
 Just then a light wagon drove up to take me be- 
 fore the Board. Before sending me down on the 
 elevator he gave me this final hint: " Dr. Simpson 
 is regarded by many as a crank in regard to memory. 
 He contends that the ideas fixed in memory are 
 stamped successively on different parts of the brain ; 
 that, however small that portion of the brain de- 
 voted to memory, each new idea is stamped on a 
 new portion, and that under some conditions, each 
 
232 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 day of life, just as we lived it, may be unfolded to us. 
 According to his theory memory has nothing to do 
 with sanity. All the memories of the past maybe 
 blotted or blurred, and yet the man be sane. The 
 store of memory being put up in sections, the de- 
 struction of any or all the sections may take place 
 without affecting the reasoning faculties. Your 
 case has reminded me of the Doctor's theory." 
 
 Thanking my friend most heartily, I resolved to 
 profit by this hint. I was soon ushered into the 
 august presence of the Board. Dr. Simpson was 
 occupying a central position. He spoke to me 
 kindly enough, and bade me give an account of 
 myself. That was about the hardest thing he 
 could have asked me to do. but I rose respect- 
 fully and said: " Gentlemen, I confess to a great 
 degree of embarrassment. I remember everything 
 that has happened to me since yesterday morning. 
 At that time I found myself on the road about 
 three miles west of the city. If I talk of what ap- 
 pears to me to be the memory of things prior to 
 that time, it is said I talk at random, and like one 
 insane. Gentlemen, my memory may be at fault, 
 but my reason is not." I saw that I was making 
 a good impression on the mind of the great Dr. 
 Simpson. This gave me courage. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," I continued, ''we are all 
 liable to accidents. I am conscious of a wound on 
 the head. That may disqualify me for testifying 
 as to some parts of my life. One thing is sure; 
 I have been educated, I have had tutors, I can 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 233 
 
 read and understand, can consider facts and draw 
 conclusions as well as I ever could." 
 
 Dr. Simpson here handed me a small volume 
 and desired me to read. I saw at once it was En- 
 glish, but how changed ! It was the strange lan- 
 guage of the strange people among whom I had so 
 strangely fallen. 
 
 *' This," I said to him, "is the English lan- 
 guage ; but not that in which I was educated. It 
 is strange to me." Then taking from my pocket 
 a small testament which mother had given me, 
 and which I had carried through the war, I 
 said; " Here is the English in which I was educat- 
 ed." I began to read. They were all intent to 
 hear, but only a few seemed to understand. 
 
 Dr. Simpson took the book, and looked at the 
 date. " Why," said he, " this book is more than 
 a thousand years old. Is it possible," he inquired, 
 *' that you read books of that date?" 
 
 I assured him I could read any English book 
 printed about that time. He wished me to name 
 some classic books I could read. I came near halt- 
 ing at the word classic, but after a slight hesitancy 
 named Milton, Shakespeare, Gibbon, and others. 
 He said the ancient versions with the old charac- 
 ters were used in the university; and after a little 
 consultation with the members of the Board a mes- 
 senger was sent to bring copies of Shakespeare 
 and Milton. As the messenger was starting some 
 member suggested that Prof. Young be invited 
 over, and all the rest bowed assent. 
 
234 S^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 The messenger soon returned, accompanied by 
 Prof. Young, who handled the precious volumes 
 with great care. Milton was handed to me, and 
 for once I astonished a highly cultivated audience 
 by my profound learning. Milton had been used 
 in our academy for analyzing. Of course I was 
 at home in this ancient classic. 
 
 Prof. Young was electrified. Various passages 
 which he thought the most difficult in both the au- 
 thors brought were pointed out for me to read and 
 explain. When they saw that I could read any 
 and all passages with the same ease, they were 
 completely captured. 
 
 After keeping me reading and expounding for a 
 long time, they finally dropped back to a further 
 consideration of my case. They were much puz- 
 zled because I could give no satisfactory account 
 of myself. I thought this was the time when si- 
 lence was golden, and said nothing. Prof. Young 
 was sure I was a graduate of the great Cowan 
 University, the only institution which educated up 
 to the standard which I had attained. But how 
 came him on the Spanish- American ship? It 
 seemed settled that 1 had fallen from that aerial 
 vessel. That is easily account for, suggested one 
 of the Board. "An eminent scholar might be trav- 
 eling to further improve his mind." This was very 
 satisfactory. 
 
 Prof. Young wanted to know with what classic 
 books I was acquainted. I ran over a long list of 
 English and American authors. Then, recalling 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 235 
 
 the conversation with Frank in the morning, I said : 
 " There is a very learned work issued much later 
 than any of the books I have mentioned — one 
 whose influence has been very great in aiding the 
 world's advancement. It has made navigation 
 safe and agriculture more sure. Of course, gen- 
 tlemen," I assumed an air of great learning, "I 
 can refer to no other than Prof. Maury's Geogra- 
 phy of the Seas.'* Dr. Simpson almost jumped 
 from his chair. He then eagerly questioned me 
 about the methods adopted by Maury, to learn the 
 facts underlying the signal service. I gave an ac- 
 count of Maury's influence in securing an inter- 
 national conference to consider these matters, and 
 how Maury induced all the leading nations to have 
 exact reports from all their ship masters in their 
 voyages as to directions of winds and ocean cur- 
 rents; how bottles were thrown over from time to 
 time containing reports of currents at the place of 
 overthrow, the date and place; how these were 
 picked up, sometimes thousands of miles away, 
 showing the tracks of the great sea currents ; how 
 Maury demonstrated the existence, the breadth, 
 and velocity of the Gulf Stream ; and how, in con- 
 sequence of all these labors, the signal service had 
 become possible. During all this time the Doctor's 
 eyes fairly glowed with pleasure. I had met him, 
 and he was mine. 
 
 The verdict of the learned Board was peculiar: 
 "In the case of Mr. Samuel Williams we find he 
 is suffering from a concussion of the brain, sup- 
 
236 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 posed to have resulted from a fall from a Spanish- 
 American aerial ship, in consequence of which 
 certain sections of the memory have been impaired, 
 or temporarily suspended. In all other respects 
 the mind is exceptionally clear. In classic Eng- 
 lish he is most proficient — in fact, speaks the lan- 
 guage with the ease and fluency that one speaks 
 his native tongue . From all the evidence we can 
 gather he is a graduate of the great Cowan Uni- 
 versity. We think his services would be invalua- 
 ble as lecturer in the department of classic English 
 in the university. We earnestly commend him to 
 the favorable consideration of the Curators." 
 
 I felt like one on rising ground. Several mem- 
 bers of this Examining Board were also Curators of 
 the university. My prospects were therefore good. 
 As I now had some money and quite a roll of bills 
 yet to be disposed of and some prospects in the 
 world, I thought it best to lay aside my worn mili- 
 tary uniform and dress in a style becoming a citi- 
 zen of some expectations. This was soon carried 
 into effect. I could now pass about without at- 
 tracting attention. 
 
 Dr. Simpson and Prof. Young soon hunted me 
 up. They were accompanied by a venerable man 
 I had noticed during my examination, but who had 
 rem.ained silent. He was now introduced as Dr. 
 Wise. I was told that Dr. Wise was President of 
 the Board of Curators of the university. They 
 wished to known if I could serve that institution as 
 lecturer in classic Enghsh. Dr. Wise said he was 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 237 
 
 greatly pleased with my examination, and was now 
 better pleased with my appearance since I had put 
 off the strange apparel. Dr. Simpson said he 
 hoped I would consent at once. The university 
 could not afford to miss such services. Prof. 
 Young said my services would be a blessing alike 
 to professors and students. I thanked them for 
 their good opinion, and indicated my willingness 
 to serve the university to the best of my ability. 
 My work was to begin with the next quarter, about 
 two weeks off. I was glad of that little time for 
 preparation. 
 
 Dr. Wise here called attention to the fact that 
 nothing had been said about the salary, and rather 
 emphasized what he called the stranger part of the 
 fact that I had made no inquiry about a matter of 
 so much importance. I replied that I supposed 
 they had a uniform custom, and what was satis- 
 factory to the other professors would be so to me. 
 He said they did have a uniform compensation, 
 and that my salary would be three thousand dollars 
 per annum. 
 
 After my learned friends had recommended me 
 to a suitable boarding house, one becoming the 
 dignity of a professor, they left me to my reflec- 
 tions. I had reflections. Arrested for lunacy and 
 promoted to a professorship in the same day! I 
 now thought it time to study the situation in earnest. 
 In my room I saw a calendar. This was what I 
 wanted. Astounding! Here is the date 2864. I 
 turned to a small library and took down volume 
 
238 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 after volume. All of them, by their dates, verified 
 the fact that in some way I had leaped over a thou- 
 sand years. 
 
 Now that I had time to think, the absurdity and 
 certainty of my situation came to me with almost 
 crushing force. I beat myself about trying to 
 throw off the delusion. I thought of a dream, a 
 trance, of mental aberration ; but do or think as I 
 would, the certainty and absurdity were still there, 
 seemingly fixed and permanent. The continuity 
 of thought and experience had been complete. I 
 had realized no transition in time. The money I 
 had was new, it having been issued but a few 
 weeks. My Testament was just as I had carried 
 it during the war. My clothes were those of the 
 Confederate soldier. Now they are all regarded 
 as antique curiosities. I was myself a curiosity. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Strange Customs. 
 
 THE eloquence of silence is often more effective 
 than the eloquence of words. It had been so 
 for me, and I resolved to court her good office 
 still. I would say nothing of my history, but study 
 my present environments. With this view I im- 
 mediately ordered the city papers. Then I quieted 
 down for a little restful, sober thought. The loss 
 of Susie, the loss of parents, the loss of all connec- 
 tions by a sudden transition of a thousand years 
 was something to demand thought. 
 
 On the shaded walk in front of my boarding 
 house I was looking on the strange scenes of the 
 strange city, when, just at the close of the day, Mr. 
 Dorman came speeding by on his cycle. I hailed 
 him and he rounded up to where I sat. He hardly 
 knew me in my new clothes, but congratulated me 
 on my improved appearance. He at once inquired 
 how I came out before the Board. I gave a full 
 account of the day's work. He was surprised at 
 my good fortune, but seemed to be as much elated 
 at my success as if I had been an old acquaintance, 
 or even a relative. I felt that I had at least one 
 friend in this strange world. He said it was time 
 to drop formalities. I was to be Sam, he Tom, 
 and we were to be chums. To this I most heartily 
 agreed, as I needed just such a friend. 
 
 (229) 
 
240 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 "Now, Tom," said I, "tell me how this is: I 
 see according to the calendar and all other indica- 
 tions that this is the year 2864. But according to 
 my convictions and all my experience and knowl- 
 edge it ought to be 1864. I seem to be a thousand 
 years ahead of my age." 
 
 "Your fall," he replied, "has knocked out a 
 thousand years of the world's history for you. 
 Well," he continued, laughing, "that was quite a 
 backset. It is fortunate for you that it is only an 
 imaginary one ; for if you had to live back in those 
 barbarous times of a thousand years ago, so full of 
 wars and outrages, you would likely have a hard 
 time of it." 
 
 After much pleasant conversation I finally in- 
 quired where the university buildings were located. 
 
 "The school buildings," he replied, " are in dif- 
 ferent parts of the city for the convenience of the 
 students." 
 
 "Yes," said I, "the preparatory schools, but 
 where is the university?" 
 
 "Why, of course," he answered, "the same 
 buildings are for all the schools." 
 
 Past experience had taught me caution. So I 
 asked my friend to regard me as a novice and ex- 
 plain the school system for my benefit. The the- 
 ory of sectional memory came to the rescue, and he 
 explained: "The school buildings are neat, com- 
 fortable, convenient. They are located in every 
 part of the city in the ratio of about one to every 
 thousand of the people. Each building has four de- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 24I 
 
 partments or rooms, one for each school. There 
 are four schools: the primary, the academic, the 
 collegiate, and the university. Five hours are de- 
 voted to recitations and lectures, with an intermis- 
 sion of twelve minutes between each hour, thus 
 making the school day five hours and forty-eight 
 minutes long. This intermission of twelve minutes 
 is for the professors to go from one building to 
 another to meet the classes. It is not necessary for 
 the students to leave their rooms. The different 
 professors come to them in turn through the entire 
 school day. Thus you see the student goes through 
 all the schools within the same building, and that 
 near his home. The only change is from room to 
 room as he advances." 
 
 " Is the short space of twelve minutes sufficient 
 for the professors to make the necessary changes ? ' ' 
 I inquired. 
 
 " Well, sometimes it requires a little undue haste 
 for dignified professors," he answered with a 
 smile, at the same time scanning my undignified 
 person. "There has been just a little friction at 
 that point. The old professors objected to long 
 walks, but it has become fashionable for all the 
 young professors, and some not young, to ride 
 cycles. With them distance is desirable as a means 
 of recreation. With this improvement everything 
 works smoothly." 
 
 "All the students do not keep on through the 
 university course. It seems to me," so I suggest- 
 ed, " that these classes would be small." 
 16 
 
242 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 " So they would," he replied, *'but for the in- 
 flux of students from the country. The primary 
 school extends all over the country and comes in 
 reach of every child of educable age. The acad- 
 emic school is pushed out into all the more popu- 
 lous neighborhoods. Then many of the larger 
 towns have a collegiate school, and are called col- 
 legiate towns. The university draws from the 
 collegiate schools not only here but over a wide 
 reach of country. There is a constant aggrega- 
 tion of students to the more important centers. In 
 this way the higher classes are kept full." 
 
 Seeing that I was deeply interested, he contin- 
 ued: " Of course the same system extends through 
 the entire nation. The university school is located 
 in all the important cities, and these are called 
 university cities. These university cities are from 
 fifty to one hundred miles apart." 
 
 *' It seems to me," I argued, " that the univer- 
 sity thus spread out all over the nation would be 
 wanting in es-prit de corps. There would be lack- 
 ing the close competition and desire to excel which 
 would stimulate students congregated in one large 
 building." 
 
 "Not at all," he replied, "the esfrit de corps 
 extends to the whole community. Public opinion, 
 family standing, a potent, all-pervading caste feel- 
 ing, based on education, bear the students along 
 to great efforts. Then the hope of success in life 
 is added to these influences. While it is true that 
 men are elected to civil offices by the suffrages of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 243 
 
 citizens, it is also true that the university-bred man 
 comes before the people with vastly better chances 
 than the merely college-bred man. And he who 
 falls below that grade has scarcely any chance. 
 Not one time in fifty will such a man get an im- 
 portant office. Four out of five men holding im- 
 portant offices are university-bred. Then when it 
 comes to government patronage the chances are 
 still more in favor of the university-bred men. 
 Nine-tenths of the government employes in the 
 civil service are of this class. True, the examina- 
 tions are open to all, but the university course has 
 been largely shaped to prepare students for these 
 various government services. The examinations 
 are based on the supposition that the applicants 
 are familiar with this course. This makes it very 
 difficult for those who have not gone through this 
 highest school to get an appointment. This is 
 true also to a large extent in regard to all gov- 
 ernment patronage, both state and national. As 
 none can go through the university except those 
 who have come up regularly through the lower 
 schools, you see that every possible inducement 
 is held out from the very start to urge students 
 to complete all the courses. The machinery of 
 government, the influence of private life, the hope 
 of ultimate success, the all-powerful factor of re- 
 spectability — all work to this end. The pressure 
 is indeed about as heavy as it should be, and when 
 students fail it is generally for the want of ability 
 of body or mind to accomplish the tasks." 
 
244 ^^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 I was warm in my thanks to my friend for the 
 information thus given. Assuring me of his will- 
 ingness to be of service to me at any time, he bade 
 me good night. 
 
 The papers next morning informed their readers 
 that the examination of Prof. Williams, of the great 
 Cowan University, before the session of Curators 
 for position as lecturer m classic English had been 
 very brilliant and deservedly rewarded with suc- 
 cess. The university and citizens generally were 
 congratulated on securing the services of a scholar 
 so renowned. The papers further said that the 
 learned professor not only had the stores of classic 
 English by memory, but also had a large number 
 of bills of money printed about a thousand years 
 ago. One of these bills had been purchased by 
 one of the museums at great price. 
 
 Tom called by next morning on his way to the 
 station to let me know that my fortune was now 
 made. The notice in the papers of my old money 
 would bring any number of buyers. " Now, Sam, 
 don't be afraid to put a price on your goods." He 
 was right. For some time my mail was crowded 
 with applications to purchase these bills. Fortu- 
 nately, I had quite a roll of them. I remembered 
 Tom's advice, and placed on them what I thought 
 was a high price ; but to my surprise and gratifica- 
 tion they sold readily. As the desire for money 
 increased with its possession, the price of my Con- 
 federate bills went higher each day. Money 
 flowed in till its volume suggested the propriety of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 245 
 
 a bank account, so I went round to the First 
 International Bank of Comos and became a depos- 
 itor. I found that this fact soon became known to 
 the business men of Comos. 
 
 One very noticeable feature of school life in 
 those very modern times was the absence of all 
 large schoolbooks. The books were all small 
 vest-pocket editions, three by six inches, and about 
 one-fourth of an inch thick, so that a half dozen 
 of them could be carried in a pocket. The con- 
 tents were very much condensed and the books 
 were printed in very clear type on very superior 
 paper. The more extensive studies were printed 
 in several volumes. When I remembered the great 
 luggage of books the boys and girls used to tire 
 under, I was prepared to appreciate this improve- 
 ment of those advanced times. 
 
 By reading everything in the papers, especially 
 the advertisements, and by constant conversation 
 with all classes on the street, I had a very good use 
 of modern English by the time I entered on the 
 duties of my professorship. The language had 
 not changed as much as I would have expected in 
 a thousand years. Nothing like the change in the 
 thousand years prior to the old time in which I used 
 to live. There was a very noticeable tendency to 
 throw off irregularities both in spelling and con- 
 struction. Many old words are dropped out and 
 many new words had come into use. Some of 
 these new words were very expressive. For in- 
 stance, I asked my friend, Tom Dorman, one 
 
246 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 morning, about the propriety of lending money to 
 Frank Goodloe. He replied with an ominous 
 shake of the head: " Frank is a good fellow, but 
 he is a victim of to-morrowism." That I thought 
 expressed it exactly. To-morrowism ! I have 
 known many people thus afflicted, but never before 
 heard the word to give it proper expression. 
 Whole towns and entire communities are down and 
 kept down by this same trouble of to-morrowism. 
 
 The other day a jockey, praising the good quali- 
 ties of his horse, said he was sired by the great 
 Gomorrow and mothered by Fanny Dean. There, 
 I thought, is another excellent word. Stockmen in 
 my day much needed that word. Matriced was 
 used by some to express the same idea. That is 
 also a good word, regularly coined from matrix, 
 and expresses the thought. But to my mind moth- 
 ered is the word. It expresses the whole idea of 
 rearing a young animal to a condition to take 
 care of itself. The changes in the language were 
 nearly all in favor of brevity and perspicuity. 
 
 Fewer changes were found in church service 
 than elsewhere. The hymns and ritual reminded 
 me very much of my early days. Many of the old 
 familiar hymns were still in use. The names of 
 the Wesleys, of Isaac Watts, of Doddridge, Heber, 
 Ken and other immortal hymn writers were still 
 familiar to the lovers of sacred psalmody. Many 
 of the forms of prayer still survived. This was to 
 be expected. Moral obligation continues the same 
 through all generations. Man's relation to God 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 247 
 
 remains ever the same. It is to be expected, there- 
 fore, that forms of prayer and hymns of praise 
 would be very much the same in all ages. 
 
 An innovation in one particular deserves atten- 
 tion. The length of the services was fixed by in- 
 exorable custom. Sixty-five minutes were allowed 
 for the entire service : ten minutes for prayer, fif- 
 teen for praise, and thirty for the sermon, with an 
 intermission of five minutes between the different 
 parts. The intermission of five minutes was to al- 
 low time for any persons to leave who did not Vv'ish 
 to attend the next part, and for others so desiring 
 to come in. Sometimes, but not frequently, the 
 whole service was conducted by the same person. 
 Generally each part had a separate leader. Some 
 of the worshipers were contented with the service 
 of prayer alone ; others attended only the service 
 of song. Still others crowded all their worship 
 into listening to the thirty minutes' sermon. Some 
 attended prayers at one church, the service of song 
 at another, and preaching at still another — every 
 one according to his own inclination. With a ripe 
 spiritual man as leader the service of prayer was 
 often largely attended — the most popular service 
 of the day. Then again the service of song, ow- 
 ing to the presence of fine talent, would have a 
 crowded house. 
 
 It was painful to witness the deflections of the 
 audience down to one-half to hear the message of 
 the preacher. But these things were taken as a 
 matter of course. But the sermon was by no means 
 
248 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 at a discount, although the preacher failed to at- 
 tract, owing to greater attraction elsewhere. If 
 the preaching was neglected in one church it made 
 the profoundest impression of the day at others. 
 It was generally understood that people were en- 
 tirely free to go where they received the greatest 
 spiritual blessing. Some preachers benefited a 
 few, others the many. This innovation, as I call 
 it, though it was an old custom of long standing, 
 may not have contributed to deeper piety, but I 
 think it secured more general attendance on public 
 worship. Housekeepers, cooks, and nurses could 
 find time to drop in ten, fifteen, or thirty minutes. 
 Then there are nervous souls who dislike to en- 
 gage to be still for an hour or more, especially 
 when the more is indefinite. But all this reluctance 
 is removed by the intervals of rest, giving them a 
 chance to retreat. Such persons will often stay 
 well satisfied through all the services, because the 
 gaps were down for them to retire if they wished. 
 They can remain two or three hours at a political 
 meeting and think the time short, just because they 
 are at liberty to leave at any time. A great many 
 people are like live stock: they dislike to go in 
 where the gaps are to be put up behind them. 
 
 The habit of changing from one church to 
 another in the brief intermission of five minutes 
 could not have been indulged in but for the exact 
 uniformity in time. This leads me to explain that 
 time in every city was run from one center. The 
 plant was conveniently located anywhere within 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 249 
 
 the city limits, but usually where its tower could 
 be seen by most people. This great central clock 
 was regulated so as to keep exact time. It was 
 connected by electrical currents with all the dials 
 throughout the city. These dials were run by mag- 
 netic force, and the electro magnets were brought 
 into action by the electric currents from the cen- 
 tral clock. But the machinery was so arranged 
 that the current was broken unless the dial was in 
 accord with the great clock. If from any cause 
 the connection was broken, the dial stood still till 
 one entire revolution of twenty-four hours was 
 made, when the connection was reestablished and 
 the dial again gave correct time. Thus it was 
 simply impossible to have any variation in time. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Strange Improvements. 
 
 AS the warm weather came on, people began to 
 talk about refrigerants. The boarders inti- 
 mated to the host that refrigerants would be in or- 
 der. Tom came in on his cycle, and applying his 
 handkerchief to his forehead, remarked laconical- 
 ly: "Time for refrigerants." All at once news- 
 papers were displaying advertisements of refriger- 
 ants. Each advertiser had the best materials and 
 appliances. All this naturally raised an inquiry, 
 and setting myself to investigate, I found the re- 
 frigerant to be a method of cooling and ventilating 
 the rooms. 
 
 A small room made for the purpose was a part 
 of every house. The air in this little room was re- 
 frigerated mostly by chemicals. A noiseless fan, 
 run by magnetic force, sent the cold air into all the 
 apartments as it was wanted. Fresh air was sup- 
 plied to the refrigerant by pipes from above the 
 house. The cold air from the refrigerant was sent 
 into the apartments near the floors. It escaped 
 near the ceiling. Thus the rooms were cooled and 
 ventilated by the purest air that could be obtained. 
 
 In winter this process was reversed. The air in 
 
 the little room was heated mostly by chemicals. 
 
 The hot air entered the rooms near the ceiling and 
 
 found egress near the floor. The appliance was 
 
 (250) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 25 1 
 
 then called a heater. In consequence of this way 
 of heating and cooling the rooms, the doors of 
 dwellings were kept closed winter and summer. 
 This gave a recluse appearance to the city. 
 There was, in fact, but little stirring about in very 
 warm weather except early in the morning and 
 late in the afternoon. 
 
 As I began my labors in the university late in 
 the season, the two months before vacation soon 
 passed. I now had more time to look about. I 
 frequently visited Tom at the signal station, and 
 went several times out to the reservation where I 
 first saw the light of this nev/ world ; but I could 
 never find a trace of the cave, though I never 
 failed to look carefully over the ground where I 
 thought it ought to be. 
 
 The whole country looked more than ever like a 
 well-cultivated garden. Beautiful and richly de- 
 veloped flowers abounded in great profusion about 
 every dwelling. The mos were busy keeping the 
 land in a high state of cultivation. I now saw the 
 great use for the many windmills which were con- 
 spicuous on every landscape. They supplied the 
 water, drawing it from deep wells or cisterns, not 
 only for stock, but for irrigation. The water was 
 stored in reservoirs located on convenient eleva- 
 tions, so that it could run on all parts of the land 
 where needed. 
 
 When the signal service indicated drought, the 
 farmers promptly applied irrigation, that there 
 might be no check in the growth of the crops. 
 
252 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 This kept grass for stock and assured food for 
 man. Any one seeing the vast multitudes to be 
 fed could readily appreciate the importance of this 
 provision. 
 
 Where so much depends on the crops it is cer- 
 tainly well to have the means of making them sure. 
 Agriculture, no longer depending solely on the 
 precarious rains, becomes a safe industry, with 
 definite income. Tom said the weather had be- 
 come far more accommodating than it used to be. 
 *' But," he added after a pause, " it will not do to 
 trust entirely yet." 
 
 I asked him why the weather is more trust- 
 worthy than formerly. 
 
 "It is," he answered, "owing to the great 
 amount of iron used, in the atmosphere, in the 
 form of fences, railroads, and communicating 
 wires, thus equalizing the circulation of electric- 
 ity, giving a more general distribution of moist- 
 ure and rain. The showers become more re- 
 liable for crops. The electricity in the air has 
 easy access to the earth by means of the iron 
 posts used everywhere for fencing, thus taking 
 away some of the causes of storms. Tornadoes, 
 and other destructive winds, and hailstorms are 
 less frequent. Away back in the earlier ages these 
 fearful agencies were terrific in the destruction of 
 life and property. " I had a very vivid recollection 
 of those terrific storms in the barbaric times of old. 
 But I had learned that discretion often lurks in the 
 silences. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. ' 253 
 
 This conversation about taming the weather, and 
 the fact that the weather was that day presenting 
 to us an atmosphere of unusual clearness, sug- 
 gested to me an inquiry of my friend about aerial 
 navigation, of which I had heard much and seen 
 nothing. 
 
 " We are not on any regular line of air ships," 
 he began, " and this accounts for your not seeing 
 one." 
 
 ''Regular line?" I replied; "I thought air 
 ships could go anywhere." 
 
 " So they could, but they do not," was his sen- 
 tentious way of putting it. The ships are apt to 
 follow some bold landmarks, which can be easily 
 kept in sight. This is decidedly more necessary 
 at night. Ships going from south to north, or the 
 contrary, keep in sight of the Atlantic coast or the 
 Alleghany Mountains or the Mississippi River. 
 Further west the Rocky Mountains become the 
 guide. These ships are used mostly for excur- 
 sions of pleasure seekers. Such parties in this 
 country generally follow meridians rather than lat- 
 itudes. This leaves us off the line of travel." 
 
 " Why," said I, "it was always my opinion that 
 when the navigation of the air was once made suc- 
 cessful it would be made the medium of general 
 commerce; that traffic and travel would be al- 
 most exclusively carried on that way; that ships 
 would regularly visit every city, town, and village 
 in the whole country; would bring the market to 
 every man's door; thus practically doing away 
 
254 * ^^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 with the interior, by bringing every place to the 
 front in the matter of transportation." 
 
 " That," returned my friend, " was no doubt the 
 dream of many, but it has not been reahzed. Ex- 
 perience has shown that the more sohd the materi- 
 al on which transportation can be made, the better. 
 And for this reason the steel rail has practically 
 the monopoly in the movement of freight. Steel 
 is better than water, and water is much better than 
 air. The air ship does well enough for excursions, 
 as it affords excitement for pleasure parties; but 
 when it comes to moving heavy articles, the steel 
 rail is wanted." 
 
 Just at this juncture Frank Love called for Torn 
 to send down the elevator. We looked over the 
 white panels and saw quite a number of young peo- 
 ple, each with some kind of spyglass. "They 
 want to make observations," said Tom, as he 
 started the elevator down for them. Soon gentle- 
 men and ladies were landed, and I, being a stran- 
 ger to most of them, had to submit to the formali- 
 ty of an introduction. However, it was gratifying 
 to my vanity to see that by reputation I was no 
 stranger; and every one seemed glad of the chance 
 for a formal introduction. While we were ex- 
 changing civilities, Frank reminded Tom that the 
 rest of the party were waiting for the elevator. So 
 the elevator was sent, and on its return with the 
 other members of the party, a like introduction 
 was given. 
 
 This being attended to in due form, Frank in- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 255 
 
 quired of Tom if he had seen the " White Eagle." 
 ♦' « The White Eagle ! ' " exclaimed Tom, '' what 
 do you mean? " 
 
 "Why," inquired Frank, " did you not notice 
 an account in the papers of the excursion from 
 Alabama ? A corps of scientists are going to the 
 Rockies in the interest of knowledge and pleas- 
 ure. Their ship is called the 'White Eagle.' 
 This city is to be taken in the route. It is to pass 
 here at lo o'clock." 
 
 Strange we had not looked at a paper. Tom 
 and I had been sitting there a long time with one 
 between us, but we had been much engaged with 
 each other and had not thought of news. Tom 
 immediately went to his instruments to learn the 
 whereabouts of the ship. " Sure enough," he ex- 
 claimed, "she is coming; just now passing about 
 three miles north of Haynesville, on the North- 
 eastern, sailing about two hundred yards high, 
 heading for Comos." 
 
 "Close to the earth," "comfortable height," 
 "don't want to waste gas," and "freeze with 
 cold," "old sailors on the winds;" these were 
 some of the comments by different ones of our 
 party. 
 
 "Now, Frank," continued Tom, without giving 
 heed to any of these remarks, "cover the horizon 
 about ten degrees south of east, and I think she 
 can be seen." 
 
 Frank at once brought his glass to bear as di- 
 rected, and after scanning the horizon for awhile 
 
256 SAM WILLIAMS : 
 
 said: *'Yes; she's in sight. Nine degrees four 
 minutes south." Glasses were adjusted accord- 
 ingly, and one after another gave indication of 
 finding the ship. Frank politely handed his glass 
 to me, but as he saw I did not know how to adjust 
 it, said: "Now, Professor, look just to the right 
 of that most distant windmill." 
 
 I saw the object indicated, and leveling the glass 
 first at the windmill, and then moving it to the right, 
 I caught sight of the ship. But I would not have 
 known it but for its motion. " Why, it looks like 
 it was half buried in the earth," I exclaimed with 
 innocent surprise. 
 
 The ladies were amused. "Yes," said Tom, 
 * ' it looks like a huge terrapin working itself out of 
 its hole." " Rather like the dome of a temple ris- 
 ing out of the earth," suggested an elegant lady by 
 my side. 
 
 As we looked, it rose clear of the earth, like the 
 sun rises in the morning. After awhile, some of 
 the party discovered that it could be seen without 
 the aid of the glasses. To the unaided eye, it now 
 looked like a speck on the distant horizon. It 
 rose higher and grew larger. These were the 
 only changes for some time. As it came nearer, 
 we could begin to see that its shape was not round, 
 as it had seemed. The front did not come to an 
 angle, as in boats designed for water, but had rath- 
 er the symmetrical finish like the breast of a swan. 
 
 About the time she reached the city, steering a 
 course to skirt along the southern suburbs, all at 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 257 
 
 once her speed slacked. " She is going to float," 
 said one. " They want to observe the city," re- 
 sponded another. When her machinery stopped, 
 the ship made a graceful descent, till she was not 
 much above the buildings. The wind was gently 
 blowing from the southwest, and the ship floated 
 very much in the same direction she had been 
 steering. She floated out toward our station, and 
 looked like she might pass directly over us. While 
 drifting in the breeze she had headed toward the 
 south, thus presenting a broad side toward us, and 
 close enough for us to observe her graceful struc- 
 ture, more than two hundred feet long. A grand 
 sight to look upon ! The visions and prophesies of 
 ages were in that ship ! What a privilege it was to 
 me to be projected beyond my age, and look upon 
 that which so many wise men had hoped to see, 
 but died without the sight ! 
 
 Her mos began to work; she darted forward 
 and glided upward like a bird with folded wings. 
 With a graceful curve she bent her prow to the 
 west, making the arc of a circle around our station 
 almost in speaking distance. We could see the 
 passengers, a gay company of men, women, and 
 children, at the grated windows, looking down 
 upon us. 
 
 Our company waved handkerchiefs, and they 
 of the ship answered the same way. It was some- 
 thing to see a little child with its arms thrust 
 through the cross bars to the shoulder, waving in 
 its tiny hands a handkerchief, in mid air ! 
 17 
 
258 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 As the ship passed from us, her wheels came in 
 splendid view. They looked like transparent cir- 
 cles, so rapid was their motion. Thus we have 
 seen a swiftly revolving buggy wheel, without see- 
 ing any of its spokes. The wheels were on the 
 order of screw propellers, the shafts extending 
 back, and at considerable angle downward. I 
 could now see why the ship descended when the 
 wheels stopped, and rose when they began to 
 work. The pressure was forward and upward. 
 The ship passed on its way, but left its image on 
 the brainy tablet, so vivid that even the caprices of 
 sectional memory will not soon disturb its beauty. 
 
 Life was now, during this vacation, running very 
 smoothly. A good position makes the world look 
 brighter. Mine was one of high honor, and also 
 brought me the means of independence. Classic 
 English was held in high esteem, and was assidu- 
 ously cultivated. The chair which I filled in the 
 university was one of the most popular. I was a 
 welcome guest in any society, and my reputation 
 was growing. 
 
 When it came to my turn, according to custom, 
 to address the learned societies of the city, I ex- 
 pressed a desire to deliver the discourse in classic 
 English. This was hailed with delight. I was at 
 once regarded as a marvel of erudition. Each 
 professor in turn was expected to deliver a dis- 
 course to the learned societies of the city, pertain- 
 ing to his chair. This was to refresh the memo- 
 ries of the alumni, that they might keep abreast of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 259 
 
 the culture in the several departments. It was a 
 kind of post graduate school in which they contin- 
 ued through life. 
 
 The social feature of these meetings was delight- 
 ful. These learned societies were composed of 
 ladies as well as gentlemen; as all the schools, in- 
 cluding the university, were alike open to both 
 sexes. The lectures to the university classes were 
 free to all. These addresses to the learned socie- 
 ties served so much to keep alive a desire for 
 learning that the regular lectures through the 
 school session were often attended by post gradu- 
 ates of both sexes. This was especialty true of 
 the chair of classic Enghsh. I often found the 
 room crowded with these lovers of the old tongue. 
 
 Invitations poured in from the university cities 
 asking; me to come and address their societies in 
 classic EngHsh. As I had somehow skipped fresh 
 from the English-speaking people of the classic 
 period into this highly cultured age, I had reason to 
 believe that, however deficient in other branches, 
 I really understood classic English better than any 
 other man in the world. Confidence in our own 
 ability is productive of the greatest effort. 
 
 All the years of learning at the old academy, es- 
 pecially the lectures on English literature by the 
 teacher, now came to my aid. With an orator 
 standing a thousand years back, and talking of 
 the events of the age in which he lived but yester- 
 day is like looking through a powerful lens ; the ob- 
 jects seems to be brought up for close inspection. 
 
26o SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 He gives with pleasure who is able to give mu- 
 nificently. To feel that you are quickening the 
 pulse of thought: to see from the eyes before you 
 that flash in unison with your own, that you are 
 enlarging the mental views, and helping souls to 
 communion with higher thought, is joy ecstatic, 
 reserved alone for the real teachers of mankind. 
 Such oratory blesses the auditors much; the ora- 
 tor more. In this also, the lesson of the great 
 Teacher holds good: "It is more blessed to give 
 than to receive." That blessing was mine 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Aspiring to Authorship. 
 
 AFTER an extended lecture tour, one day late 
 in the vacation I went to have a quiet day 
 with Tom at the station. Easy conversation with 
 a congenial friend is restful. I was communica- 
 tive ; Tom was a willing listener. I wanted to talk 
 over my past life and see if any light could be 
 thrown on the mystery of my transmission through 
 the ages. 
 
 I began with my childhood, pointing out the 
 place where I thought our house stood. It was 
 now a beautiful garden, adjacent to a magnificent 
 residence. "And there," said I, pointing to a 
 deep depression, " is where the spring flowed so 
 delightfully cool from under the steep surrounding 
 bluffs. In the deep recess of bending ferns, where 
 the arching foliage of the trees hemmed in the 
 perpetual shade, the water came forth dancing with 
 delight. I tell you, Tom, it was a retreat where 
 nymphs might live and love." Tom had before 
 smiled at my enthusiasm, but here he broke into a 
 hearty laugh. His laugh was contagious, and I 
 smiled in spite of my seriousness. The picture 
 which I drew was in sharp contrast with the pres- 
 ent reality. There was before us only an ordinary 
 depression, a little deeper than others in the ever 
 varying face of cultivated nature. But in proof of 
 
 (261) 
 
262 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 the former existence of the spring I pointed to the 
 busy windmill on the very spot, drawing the water 
 from the depths below and storing it in a reservoir 
 to gladden the fields around. Then away across 
 the laughing fields and over the tops of beautiful 
 dwellings, and sighting by a windmill, I pointed to 
 the places where the academy stood and where the 
 church was located. I told about the slaves and 
 about my youthful companions. Then in tender 
 accents, letting the voice fall to a whisper, for the 
 ground whereon I walked was sacred, I rehearsed 
 the story of my early and continued love ; how the 
 great war came and separated me from the object 
 of my adoration. I told about our last fight, and 
 the Cave of Futurity, and how I had appeared a 
 stranger in the land of my birth. 
 
 Tom was inclined to laugh, but my manner re- 
 strained him. When, in answer to his query, I 
 fondly called the name of Susie Brantlett, he looked 
 up with a smile: " Why, Sam, there is a most ex- 
 cellent lady in the city by that name. I will intro- 
 duce you to her this very evening. But I tell you, 
 old fellow," he continued, "you have the best 
 materials I have ever heard for a romance; you 
 must write a book. It will be a delight for you to 
 live over all this dream of yours. You must not 
 forget the Cave of Futurity, and how you got away 
 from those barbarous times. You can end your 
 story by finding a suitable match for your hero 
 among the civilized ladies of this golden age. That 
 will be a rich solace for the loss of the old love." 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 263 
 
 I was provoked at his levity, but I checked such 
 feelings at once by reflecting that he could not but 
 regard my story as pure fiction. But I knew it was 
 true to nature, as I had lived it. I began to think 
 seriously of writing the history ; to me it would not 
 be a romance — no plot was needed. I would write 
 the straightforward narrative of what I had lived, 
 and how in some mysterious way I "had outrun 
 my age and race, and found myself in the midst of 
 things not dreamed of before." 
 
 That evening we called on Miss Susie Brantlett. 
 I felt a nervous anxiety as the time approached. 
 In the midst of such transformations how did I 
 know but that Susie had experienced some of the 
 same, and that I should actually meet her in these 
 strange surroundings? I think Tom really ex- 
 pected me to meet my loved and lost, and that 
 memory was about to be restored, and that I would 
 prove not to be a stranger in Comos. He talked 
 as if he thought I was about to pick up the tangled 
 thread of life and unravel the mysteries of my 
 strange career. 
 
 But Miss Susie was not my Susie. She was 
 larger and taller ; would weigh at least forty pounds 
 more. She was a noble woman, worthy to be a 
 descendant of the old race. She was highly cul- 
 tured and very agreeable. Her every movement 
 showed that, like all the cultured citizens of Comos, 
 she was thoroughbred. She was very cordial — in 
 fact, her appreciation was almost embarrassing. 
 "I am delighted," she said — " as who is not? — to 
 
264 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 entertain the learned professor of classic English. 
 I have heard all your lectures in the city to the 
 learned societies, and have been so well pleased 
 that I have attended many of the lectures to the 
 classes. I am a dear lover of classic English." 
 
 Of course I was gratified. A taste in common 
 is often a bond of friendship, and I recognized at 
 once a new tie in the strange city of Comos. In 
 this presence nothing was more acceptable than 
 classic English, so I led off for some time in a sort 
 of discussion of the old authors. Miss Susie 
 seemed to be highly entertained, and so far entered 
 into the conversation as to show she had indeed 
 studied the classics of her ancestors. She had 
 found a volume in the city library which she told 
 us interested her very much. It was found in an 
 obscure corner, where apparently it had not been 
 disturbed for ages. " The title of the book," she 
 said, " is ' Ben-Hur.' I hardly know whether it is 
 history or romance. It is sometimes like one, and 
 sometimes like the other. It perplexes me because 
 I have to make such constant use of the dictionary. 
 When I become most deeply interested I have to 
 stop to hunt words and study phrases, and it is hard 
 for me to keep the personages in mind. I suppose 
 this is because the work is so very ancient. It 
 gives an account of things in the time of our Sav- 
 iour. I did not know before that the English lan- 
 guage was spoken that far back. I will be glad to 
 have you give me some assistance in its study." 
 
 With this she rose and went for the volume. I 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 265 
 
 had never heard of the book, but supposed from 
 the name that it was the work of some Jewish rabbi. 
 I was regretting the necessity of confessing my 
 ignorance, when she returned and placed the musty 
 volume in my hands. I saw at a glance it was 
 familiar English, and felt relieved. The next thing 
 was to look for the date and the author. Both as- 
 tonished and puzzled me. Seventeen years ahead 
 of time, according to my count, and by General 
 Lew Wallace. Why, my ears almost tingled at 
 the remembrance of the guns of Lew Wallace at 
 Fort Donaldson. The idea of that grim warrior 
 writing the story of the world's great Peacemaker ! 
 
 I was so occupied by these reflections that I had 
 almost forgotten the demands of politeness. As it 
 would be to me like reading a novel fresh from the 
 press, or, rather, ahead of the press, I remarked 
 to Miss Susie that I would be glad to read the vol- 
 ume with her. She was so delighted with the pro- 
 posal, and I was so anxious to read the book, that 
 next day was appointed as a time to begin the 
 reading. 
 
 Reading a few passages by way of foretaste, I 
 saw that the book was one of thrilling interest. It 
 would be all the more so to me because of the au- 
 thor, who, if I did not personally know, I had good 
 reason to personally remember ! Just here I was 
 reminded by the chime of a neighboring dial that 
 it was 22 o'clock (corresponding to our lo o'clock 
 P.M.), and time, according to custom, to retire. 
 Custom is more than law in Comos. No explana- 
 
266 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 tion was necessary. Tom and I both rose at the 
 same instant and bade her good-night. 
 
 What with fiUing my remaining appointments to 
 lecture, and reading with Miss Susie, planning my 
 book, the few remaining days of vacation soon 
 passed. 
 
 In settling down regularly to work in the univer- 
 sity, I settled down also to the task of writing my 
 book. But the question soon came up in my mind 
 whether I should write in classic or modern Eng- 
 lish. Of course it was much easier for me to write 
 in the old tongue. But that would be to write only 
 for scholars. On the other hand, if I should write 
 in the vernacular, the work might be awkwardly 
 done and be little to my credit. I had a reputation 
 to sustain. I noticed that whole classes of words 
 had disappeared. The thousand years that had 
 intervened had been a severe test of the vitality of 
 words. The words of life and power — words 
 whose very essence seemed to be active in the 
 ideas they expressed — had lived. The most living 
 words in the ancient English were living still in the 
 modern tongue. Most naturally I formed the habit 
 of trying to express ideas by the ancient words 
 which were still in the living language. Being un- 
 derstood by both, they were a bond of union be- 
 tween myself and the people of these modern times 
 on which I had fallen. These were the most ex- 
 pressive words. They were the picture words; 
 such words as painted living images in the mind of 
 the hearers. I was convinced that my success as 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 267 
 
 a lecturer was due to the use of these best words. 
 I determined, therefore, to adopt this method in 
 writing. I would use the old language, but try to 
 express my ideas in such words as were still living. 
 When the word would likely not be understood by 
 the modern reader, a modern substitute in paren- 
 thesis would make the meaning plain. When 
 something more should be necessary, I would re- 
 sort to footnotes and brief translations. 
 
 It was evident that such a book would be of great 
 service to beginners in the study of the classics, 
 and also to refresh the minds of those who had 
 partly laid such studies aside. If I could write a 
 book that would be a necessity to the university 
 school, I would thereby secure a permanent place 
 in literature. I was enthused with the work, and 
 applied myself with diligence. The manuscript 
 grew in bulk week after week. 
 
 Meanwhile my visits to Miss Susie became more 
 and more interesting. Tom said he was sure I 
 would find a solace for the loss of the ancient Susie 
 in the possession of the modern one. " That,'' he 
 said, "would be a splendid Jin a /e to your literary 
 production, and also a desirable consummation of 
 your earthl}'- happiness." Miss Susie was no doubt 
 a jewel of rare value, a thorough lady in every 
 sense; but the sigh of my heart was for my own 
 Susie of the olden time. 
 
 In the autumn the great agricultural fair was 
 held in the suburbs of Comos. This was an occa- 
 sion of great interest. The display of stock was 
 
268 SAM WILLIAMS; 
 
 immense. The riding, driving, draft, and race 
 horses were entirely distinct breeds. Each breed 
 had such clearly defined characteristics adapted to 
 the uses intended that they might almost be regard- 
 ed as different species. 
 
 The breeds of cows were many, but all belonged 
 to two great classes, adapted to the world's foods 
 — milk and beef. The race had narrowed down to 
 this. In each of these two great classes were many 
 breeds, such as the Kansas, Delta, Texas, Gulf 
 Coast, and Allegheny breeds. They were sever- 
 ally the products of localities where the foods and 
 climatic influences afforded the best development 
 for the purposes intended. 
 
 Mississippi sheep produced the finest wool; 
 those of Illinois took the premium for mutton ; the 
 Montana goats carried off the palm for kid, and 
 those of Arizona for the best textile. 
 
 The poultry department was extensive and varied. 
 The wingless chickens were new to me. The 
 wings still remained as rudimentary organs long 
 out of use. The dry land duck was also a novelty. 
 He was a plump, compact bird, almost wingless. 
 The web had disappeared from between the toes. 
 
 The turkey seemed to be the favorite fowl with 
 these prosperous Americans. There were quite a 
 number of distinct varieties: the pure black, the 
 snowy white, the golden hued, and the deep brown. 
 But in all of them I noticed a great change from 
 the bird of my early time. The long, slender, 
 running legs had been converted into thick, sturdy 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 269 
 
 legs for standing; the unused wings had become 
 small and clumsy; the broad breasts, originally in- 
 tended to sustain vigorous flight, had become massed 
 with the sweetest white flesh. The turkey, like 
 everything else, had changed to meet the demands 
 of man's exacting appetite. The noble bird as I 
 then saw him was round and plump, his heavy 
 breast hanging forward, more resembling the ex- 
 tinct dodo than the slender, graceful, wild turkey 
 of the American forest. 
 
 But time would fail me to tell of all the wonders 
 displayed ; of the eyeless potatoes, propagated from 
 the seed; of the coreless apples and stoneless 
 peaches produced by grafting; of the strawberries 
 weighing ten ounces apiece; of blackberries of 
 beautifully variegated colors. Inventive genius had 
 found a way to preserve berries and fruits of every 
 kind, so that it was not strange for these berries to 
 have been kept over in good, fresh condition for the 
 fair. The Comoreans were very fond of berries. 
 
 Having a natural turn for machinery, I passed on 
 to that department. The motor was almost the uni- 
 versal power, being used for nearly every purpose. 
 It was on exhibition in nearly every imaginable 
 shape and size. The principle on which they were 
 constructed is the same in all. It is the well-known 
 fact that the opposite poles of a magnet attract, 
 while like poles repel. To secure the full advan- 
 tage of this principle as a motive power, a simple 
 system of electro-magnets was devised. The es- 
 sential parts of the machine were as follows: A 
 
270 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 cylinder whose outer rim was supplied with mag- 
 nets. This revolved inside of a stationery cylin- 
 der, or shell, the inside rim of which was also fur- 
 nished with magnets. These magnets, those in 
 the revolving cylinder and those in the inclosing 
 shell, thus brought in close connection with each 
 other, were so arranged that attracting poles were 
 all the time coming toward each other, and the re- 
 pelling ones always receding from each other. 
 This was accomplished by an automatic regulation 
 of the electrical currents. 
 
 In all locomotive machines, including the ever 
 present cycle, the electricity was supplied by stor^ 
 age batteries. These storage batteries had been 
 brought to such perfection that a battery not larger 
 than the canteen I used to carry in the war would 
 run a cycle for hours. Every windmill might be 
 used as a motor for storing the batteries, so that 
 they were always on hand in great abundance. 
 The machine was simple enough in construction 
 and very durable. It was called a mo, probably 
 from the well-known tendency of Americans to 
 shorten names. In this case they trimmed down 
 to the central idea. Mo is the taproot of motion, 
 motive, locomotive. It expresses motion pure and 
 simple. Thus these advanced Americans had 
 caught and harnessed one of the most potent forces 
 of nature — the magnetic force — which holds all the 
 worlds in proper ecliptic position and performs an 
 important part in the grand machinery of the uni- 
 verse. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 2^1 
 
 My book grew upon me. The narrative needed 
 no coloring. Truth in that case was stranger than 
 fiction. To tell these people the rude methods of 
 their forefathers ; of their native country, when it 
 was supporting its first or second generation of 
 men, while large areas of it were still covered with 
 primeval forests; of the manners and customs in 
 vogue when classic English was the living vernac- 
 ular; of the slaves, whose constant labors made 
 life a perpetual leisure to their masters; of the 
 gigantic war, whose history is known only to 
 scholars — these were themes which needed not the 
 aid of foreign ornament. 
 
 But the most tender, the most pathetic, the most 
 intensely interesting — the part that had heart and 
 soul in it — was that which told of Susie, the loved 
 and lost. " While I was musing the fire burned." 
 How pure, how unselfish the love which hovered 
 over this broken shrine ! How sweetly varied the 
 phases of her picture to memory's eye, as in the 
 kaleidoscope of affection she passes in review be- 
 fore me from childhood to maturity ! It was almost 
 sacrilegious to expose the shrine of my heart to the 
 gaze of unsympathetic readers. But what better 
 could I do? If Susie, by the cold hand of fate, 
 has been separated from me forever, why should I 
 not embalm her memory in the beautiful mazes of 
 story ? 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 The Return. 
 
 TWO strange facts had been constantly present 
 to my mind since my first appearance in the 
 country. One was the absence of the slave popu- 
 lation. What had become of the negroes? Their 
 absence might readily be accounted for on the 
 supposition that a thousand years had actually 
 elapsed. That seemed really to be the case. In 
 fact, that was the only way to account for this 
 and many other great changes everywhere plainly 
 seen. 
 
 I suppose that if one could be unconscious for a 
 thousand years, or even ten thousand, there would, 
 on a resuscitation to life, be no apparent loss of 
 time. I could readily perceive, therefore, that the 
 last day I spent in the old state, even though a 
 thousand years ago, would seem but as yesterday. 
 Of course the transmission was entirely mysterious. 
 I had to accept that, just as I had to accept my 
 existence, as a matter above the reach of my fac- 
 ulties. I had about accepted that view of the case. 
 
 I inquired of those who it appeared to me should 
 know, where the negroes were; and the uniform 
 reply was that the darker races lived farther south. 
 I could find quite a number of people who boasted 
 of negro blood ; it reminded me of the people, al- 
 
 * (272) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 273 
 
 ways of the first families of Virginia, who used to 
 boast of descent from Pocahontas, and were really 
 proud of their Indian blood. 
 
 The other strange fact was the absence of the 
 poor, especially in a city as large as Comos. I 
 noticed the same in other cities where I had beea 
 lecturing. Mr. Wise gave the most satisfactoiy 
 explanation. He said: " There had been a tend- 
 ency in all ages for wealth to accumulate in the 
 hands of the few, to the detriment of the many. 
 Conditions of society at different times and differ- 
 ent places have greatly strengthened this tendency. 
 Under such favoring conditions great fortunes have 
 been accumulated, thus at once increasing the de- 
 sire and the capacity by which it is gratified. The 
 accumulation of wealth in consequence has gone 
 on with accelerated facility. The poor were the 
 first to be made poorer. Then the smaller fortunes 
 were taken up. Then larger ones were melted and 
 absorbed. Fortunes grew larger and fewer in reg- 
 ular ratio. 
 
 "During all this time rich men were honored be- 
 cause of their riches. The money-maker was the 
 hero. This gave tenfold force to the desire to 
 make and possess wealth. Thus people were aid- 
 ing their own ultimate downfall. They cheered 
 the skill of the man who was making the fetters by 
 which their own limbs were to be manacled. This 
 same state of things exists to-day in the less enlight- 
 ened countries. 
 
 "But the controlling nations of the world have 
 18 
 
274 ^"^^ WILLIAMS: 
 
 grown wiser. In all self-respecting men there is a 
 principle stronger than the love of money. This 
 is the desire to have the good opinion of our fellow- 
 man. As soon as public opinion ceased to worship 
 wealth great fortunes ceased to be desirable. The 
 opinion became general that the race for money 
 beyond a reasonable competence was unwise, un- 
 natural, and unchristian: unwise, because it de- 
 feats the very purpose in view, the happiness of the 
 money-maker and his family; unnatural, because 
 it takes the rights of the many and gives them to 
 the few, producing an abnormal and congestive 
 condition of the body politic that is essentially 
 unhealthy; unchristian, because such a state of 
 things is utterly irreconcilable with the principles 
 of the great Teacher. 
 
 *' When the world came to recognize these facts, 
 none were more ready to readjust the financial 
 basis than the very rich. Strange to say, men of 
 small fortunes, whose wealth was most liable to 
 absorption, were the most conservative. The 
 millionaires were ready to relax. A small per 
 cent, income seemed amply sufficient. The great 
 manufacturers were satisfied with a small per cent, 
 on their investments. The employees were at once 
 content with wages which heretofore seemed too 
 small. The surplus, after paying the per cent, and 
 wages, was divided between proprietors and work- 
 men on terms satisfactory to all. 
 
 "All other industries fell into line. Everybody 
 was satisfied. The rich were still rich, the poor 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 275 
 
 had no fear of poverty. Very little, seemingly, 
 had been done. The world had simply let go and 
 let the tension relax. Thus the problem of all 
 ages at once melted away. Rich and poor were 
 alike free. 
 
 " To be sure, there were still a few skinflints, but 
 they were ashamed of themselves. Fortunately, 
 such men are of small caliber, and consequently of 
 limited influence. Their closeness was rarely 
 transmitted from father to son. Public opinion 
 became very strong against such avarice, and the 
 young being more susceptible to its influence, the 
 sons rarely walked in the evil ways of their fathers. 
 
 " Workingmen easily live on their wages. Their 
 dividends are surplus cash. This is almost inva- 
 riable invested either in the capital stock of the 
 plant where they work or in some desirable enter- 
 prise. Thus men become at the same time wage- 
 earners and proprietors. This has, in the lapse of 
 time, done much to obliterate the distinction be- 
 tween labor and capital. 
 
 "'This, then, accounts for the absence of the 
 poor. There are now no special tendencies to pov- 
 erty. Nobody wishes to oppress. Public opinion 
 demands that in some way every man shall be em- 
 ployed: that he shall make himself useful. Then 
 every man who works not only gets fair wages, but 
 has an equable interest in what his hands have 
 helped to produce. He pays but a reasonable 
 price for the capital he uses. He gets a reasona- 
 ble compensation for his day's work, and a fair 
 
276 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 share of what that work has added to the world's 
 wealth." 
 
 During the winter I was busy with the univer- 
 sity lectures and the writing of my book. This 
 latter labor now engaged my most earnest endeav- 
 or. Notwithstanding these labors, two evenings 
 per week were spent with Miss Susie in reading 
 old English. These evenings were delightful, and 
 grew constantly more so as the weeks were pass- 
 ing by. 
 
 Miss Susie was a remarkably gifted lady. She 
 soon became so familiar with the construction and 
 pronunciation of the classic tongue that we used it 
 almost exclusively in conversation. It was like a 
 return to my previous state of long ago to hear the 
 dear old words pronounced by the silvery tongue 
 of this cultured lady. 
 
 Nearly every day I met and had some pleasant 
 words with Tom Dorman. We frequently took 
 tea together; and many a morning we took a cycle 
 race on the smooth road out toward the station. 
 
 My relations with the professors were pleasant. 
 Dr. Simpson and Prof. Young were congenial 
 gentlemen. I loved to cultivate the acquaintance 
 of Mr. Wise. He was ordinarily a man of few 
 words, and had to be cultivated to get to the best 
 stratum of his nature. Thus, with pleasant mental 
 labor and congenial companionship, the winter was 
 " over and gone " almost before I woke to a real- 
 ization of the fact. 
 
 One evening Tom and I were taking tea together 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 277 
 
 when I reminded him of the fact that next day 
 would be the anniversary of our first meeting at 
 the station. The mystery of my appearance in the 
 country at that time came upon me with renewed 
 force. And we talked upon it for some time. As 
 the next day was Monday, and consequently the 
 rest day for the schools, I had a fancy for cele- 
 brating the day by donning my old military uni- 
 form, which I had kept carefully folded away, and 
 going out to the reserv^ation to muse on the uncer- 
 tainties of life. Tom said it would be a recreation 
 for me, which he thought was needful after a hard 
 winter's work. 
 
 So next morning, bright and early, before the in- 
 habitants were up, we were on our cycles speeding 
 out of the city. I stopped at the station an hour 
 or two with Tom, taking another view of this beau- 
 tifully cultivated country. The grandeur of its 
 civilization never impressed me more than it did 
 this morning. The landscape was never more 
 charming. The freshness of a bright spring morn- 
 ing, the rising sun, whose rays clustered in the 
 dewdrops, gave additional loveliness to the scene. 
 The charm of poesy and the power of science had 
 united to make a terrestial paradise. 
 
 As I looked fondly on the glowing scenes before 
 me, the thought of my mysterious appearance here 
 so entirely out of time came upon me with such 
 force and weighed so heavily on my mind I felt 
 out of place in the presence of my joyous and light- 
 hearted companion. That I might not oppress his 
 
278 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 spirit with my own abstractions, I took leave of 
 him and speeded along the smooth road which I 
 traveled with so much astonishment just one year 
 ago. 
 
 I turned in at the gate, and, leaving my cycle by 
 its side, took my way along the same path I had 
 come the morning of my singular advent into this 
 strange country. The path looked just like it did 
 that morning. When I reached the hill, to my 
 very great astonishment, there was the cave just as 
 I had looked back to it one year ago. I had looked 
 that ground a dozen times over, and had failed al- 
 ways before to see the slightest semblance of that 
 cave. 
 
 I went into this opening with a palpitating heart. 
 Beneath my feet was the same soft floor of green 
 moss. I went on almost in a run till I came to the 
 couch on which I had spent the night. Here I 
 stopped and reflected. This is surely leading me 
 back to the old world. If I go on, I will come out 
 into my former life. Is it best to plunge again into 
 war, and cast my lot in a country desolated by 
 strife? I am leaving my professorship, my pre- 
 cious manuscript, my bank account, the most en- 
 lightened and prosperous people I have ever 
 known, a country of peace and plenty. This very 
 evening I have an engagement to read with Miss 
 Susie. 
 
 But this leads me home: to father and mother; 
 to Susie — not the cultured, the thoroughbred, but 
 my Susie, the Susie of my lifelong love, the idol 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 279 
 
 enshrined in the shekinah of my soul. And with 
 this thought I broke into a run, and halted not till 
 I had reached the mouth of the cave. I bounded 
 out, and sure enough here were the old woods, the 
 same old rugged hills. I had several times trav- 
 eled over this country during the last year, and 
 these hills, leveled and terraced, were teeming 
 with crops and ornamented with beautiful resi- 
 dences. I am now just in the line of the great 
 Northwestern. 
 
 But here are the old scenes of my boyhood. I 
 must now look for home and Susie. I looked 
 back to take a final view of the Cave of Futurity, 
 and, behold! there was not the sign of a cave: 
 simply the bluff which had stood there for ages. 
 There was nothing unusual on its surface. I 
 thought I must surely be the victim of some strange 
 hallucination. 
 
 I now went along the old way by which I had 
 come down to that bluff a year ago. When I 
 came near the road, I saw a wagon coming. It 
 was drawn by two old mules which looked haggard 
 and poor. Wagon and team both looked like war 
 times. Why, there's Will Benson, Sam McGee, 
 and Joe Conway. The wagon made a halt for me 
 to get in. I had seemed as one in a dream. But 
 now sitting by Will Benson, while the old wagon 
 jolted over the roots, my mind seemed to clear up. 
 Full consciousness gained ascendency. The road 
 was familiar to me. I knew just where we were 
 and how far it was home. 
 
28o SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 Turning to Will, I asked; " What does all this 
 mean?" 
 
 Will's face lighted up with a joy I could not un- 
 derstand. " Why, Sam," he answered, " we are 
 going home. Don't you know the road? " 
 
 "Yes," I returned, " I do know the road. But 
 where are we from ? What have I been doing the 
 past twelve months?" I noticed the other boys, 
 who sat on the back seat, leaning forward greatly 
 delighted. 
 
 "For the last twelve months," Will repeated 
 slowly. " Yes, it has been just a little over twelve 
 months since we were captured." 
 
 "Since you all were captured," I said, "but 
 what about me? " 
 
 "You were almost killed by the cavalry 
 charge," he said. " The captors wanted to leave 
 you on the field as dead, but you were still 
 breathing. We did not know but there was a 
 chance for your recovery, and it might be long be- 
 fore you would be found and cared for if left. We 
 absolutely refused to march till you were placed in 
 an ambulance. In a few weeks you were well, ex- 
 cept in mind. Only a week ago I succeeded in 
 getting an operation performed to relieve your 
 brain of pressure. The surgeon said you would 
 probably come right in about a week. To-day you 
 give the first clear indications that you are well 
 again." 
 
 I sat and thought in silence. My skip of a thou- 
 sand years into the future was all the imaginings of 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 281 
 
 a disordered brain. My professorship, authorship, 
 and bank account, my fame for learning, my high 
 social position in the most cultivated society was 
 all a delusion. I smiled at the uxuberance of my 
 crippled imagination. Well, I had a high time. 
 And perhaps that which appeared to me so real, 
 may, in a thousand years, prove to have the flavor 
 of prophecy. I can well lay down my fancied 
 honors if my Susie will but receive my offer of de- 
 votion. 
 
 I thought about what I had missed of the hard- 
 ships of prison life, and what a happy exchange I 
 had made. Instead of confinement in the gloomy 
 walls of a prison, I had been living in splendid 
 style and visiting people who lived in mansions. 
 Instead of the haggard and sorrowful faces of my 
 comrades, I had been looking on the chivalry and 
 beauty of a grand country. I had exchanged the 
 hardships and din of war for a land of peace and 
 plenty. Instead of the taunts and gibes of our 
 keepers, "the proud man's contumely," my rapt 
 ear had listened to the long roll of fame. 
 
 Just here I roused up from my reverie to remind 
 Will that he was taking the wrong road. 
 
 " O," said he, " we are going to my house." 
 
 "All right," I replied ; " just let me get out, and 
 I can walk home. It is hardly a mile now." The 
 expression on Will's face alarmed me. The very 
 low state of father's health when last I heard of 
 him, and the long time that had elapsed since, at 
 once suffgested the worst. 
 
282 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 Will saw that explanation was necessary. As 
 gently as possible he broke the sad intelligence. 
 Both parents had died — father nearly a year ago, 
 and mother six months later. 
 
 This was a terrible blow. It was almost crush- 
 ing. I could see that Will, and the other boys 
 also, feared its effect on my mental condition. 
 But I told them that grief was natural and tears 
 were a relief. As to my mental state, I felt that 
 my mind had thoroughly regained its elasticity. 
 
 Sister Mary was overjoyed to receive us back 
 home. "And," she said, "you are home to stay. 
 The news has just reached us that Gen. Lee has 
 surrendered, and of course the war is over." This 
 was startling news, and true. 
 
 When the ebullition of feeling had somewhat sub- 
 sided, Will gave an account of our capture and 
 prison life till we were exchanged a few days ago. 
 I listened attentively, for it was as much news to me 
 as it was to my sister. Letters had come through 
 the lines, and sister had heard of my mental con- 
 dition. Her joy was unbounded to find me com- 
 pletely restored. 
 
 The war being over, it was time to estimate re- 
 sults. The one great result most palpable to us 
 was the freedom of the slaves. At one mighty 
 sweep nearly all the property of the South went 
 down in the whirlpool of war. We stood aghast 
 to see the foundation knocked out, and our entire 
 social fabric tottering to its fall. Slavery had be- 
 come so thoroughly ingrafted into our Southern 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 2S3 
 
 life that it seemed to be the natural condition. So 
 it had always appeared to me. A tirm but mild 
 authority on the one hand, and a confiding obedi- 
 ence on the other: these deeply imbedded princi- 
 ples, all overgrown with the green ivy of peace, 
 made the symbol of slavery as it had always pre- 
 sented itself to my childish perception. 
 
 But four years of war had graduated me to man- 
 hood. I now stood face to face with the new 
 problem. Having been born heir to property and 
 cradled in the expectation of an easy competence, 
 I now confronted the necessity of making an inde- 
 pendent living, either by muscle or brain. And I 
 felt the manhood in me strengthening up to full 
 proportions. I was emancipated. Along the fiery 
 crest of battle God's hand had been stretched out 
 to take the bonds, not only from the negro's body, 
 but from his mind as well. I rejoiced to know 
 that the best qualities of the negro race as I had 
 learned to appreciate them could henceforth de- 
 velop in a state of freedom. The picture of old 
 Ephraim, standing day and night by the bedside of 
 his dying master, with grief unfeigned, and help- 
 fulness ever on the watch; the faithfulness and 
 business capacity of Jack, tested from young to old 
 manhood; the unfaiHng kindness and strict fidelity 
 of mammy, the guardian of my youth ; the humble 
 piety of Uncle Sam, the patriarch ; the eloquence 
 of John, the preacher; the heroic conduct of 
 George on the field of Shiloh : these and other ex- 
 amples stand vividly out on memory's tablet. 
 
284 SAM WILLIAMS. 
 
 A race which can produce characters like 
 these deserves to be free. Let no man henceforth 
 be in position to restrict or dwarf such traits. The 
 world has a right to the best that every race can 
 produce. It is therefore right for every race to be 
 in position to produce the best. I could not but 
 believe that the deep piety and pure faith character- 
 istic of the negro race gives a divine title to free- 
 dom. "If simple faith is more than Norman 
 blood," then the time is overdue when the shack- 
 les should be taken from the negro's soul. Such 
 reflections reconciled me to the loss of property 
 and helped to blunt the keen edge of defeat. 
 
 Another important result of the war I could but 
 regard with a gleam of satisfaction, even in the an- 
 guish of defeat. That was the preservation of the 
 country in its entire territorial extent. From my 
 earliest years I had been proud of my country's 
 greatness. I had mourned over the wane of that 
 greatness in the disunion of the states. Now while 
 my heart bled because of the humiliation of my 
 native state, prostrate as a conquered province, 
 with her proud escutcheon trailing in the dust, I 
 yet felt a recompense in the prospect of a grand, 
 united country; a nation which would command 
 the respect and challenge the admiration of all 
 mankind 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The Consummation. 
 
 THIS was my first day of normal consciousness 
 for more than a year. It is not surprising 
 that, after the excitement of getting home had 
 abated, I felt great lassitude both of body and 
 mind. With solicitude beyond description, my 
 thoughts centered on Susie. Now that my par- 
 ents were gone, I felt more than ever that my life's 
 happiness depended on her. I desired to go at 
 once to see her, but sister would not at all consent 
 till I had taken a good rest. But seeing that it 
 pleased me, she talked much about Susie; her 
 sweet disposition and noble nature. I learned 
 from her that Capt. Webb had been at home 
 several times during the last year, and had fre- 
 quently attended Susie to church, and that he 
 was with her only last Sabbath. I am ashamed 
 to confess what uneasiness this news gave me. 
 
 This led to a train of gloomy reflections. It had 
 been reported that my mental faculties were per- 
 manently out of order. Why should Susie linger 
 over the memory of such a wreck? Besides, we 
 had never been engaged. How did I know that 
 she really cared for me ? I had gone through the 
 war without any special distinction. Dick Webb 
 was captain. John Henderson was major. They 
 
 (285) 
 
286 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 had won distinction by deeds of valor; my dis- 
 tinction had been won in the realms of diseased 
 imagination. Those fancied honors have gone 
 like the dreams of the South Sea bubble, and I 
 am poor, maimed, and only a " high private in the 
 rear ranks." Why should I expect Susie to be 
 mine? What have I with which to take care of 
 her? With these gloomy reflections, I fretted my- 
 self to sleep. 
 
 Next morning Sister Mary led me into a room, 
 threw open the trunks, and showed me how she 
 had preserved my best clothes. This was a most 
 timely discovery. "Now," she said, with a 
 good laugh, "you can fix up and go to see Susie. 
 She will be looking for you, and you will be sure 
 of a hearty welcome." Her cheerfulness was 
 catching, as was also her hopefulness. 
 
 With a renewed confidence^ I prepared to go 
 over to Mr. Brantlett's. My dress would have 
 satisfied a Chesterfield. Will had the horse and 
 buggy for me at the gate. As I rode over the short 
 distance amid the old familiar scenes that brio-ht 
 spring morning, I felt the joy of a sweet peace 
 warming in the rays of the mighty hope which was 
 rising like a bright sun above the horizon of my 
 life. 
 
 Our meeting that morning will ever remain a 
 bright, sweet center; a metropolis of joy in the do- 
 main of memory. Susie looked more mature, hav- 
 ing now reached the full-blown flower of woman- 
 hood. It was plain to be seen that anxiety had 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 287 
 
 left a chastened and refining touch on every fea- 
 ture. Four eventful years had brought out the 
 decided marks of character, and every trace bore 
 the stamp of nature's true nobility. She was 
 never before altogether so lovely. 
 
 If a single misgiving remained in my mind, it 
 was dispelled by her old time reception, a greet- 
 ing full of heart and soul. Her joy at my safe re- 
 turn, both to home and reason, could no more be 
 hid than a rose can hide its beauty. When I had 
 made a full confession, and the sweet vows had 
 been exchanged, she looked perfectly radiant. 
 To possess such love is one of the sweetest joys 
 of earthly experience; a joy which comes as a 
 glorious sun on the landscape of life, and warms 
 into beautiful flowers, and ripens into luxurious 
 fruitage all the nobler capabilities of our being. 
 
 Here was the consummation of a thousand hopes 
 which had gladdened life from childhood until 
 now; of hopes which had brought gleams of joy 
 into long, laborious marches, through rain and 
 mud, sleet and cold; of hopes which had made 
 luminous the dismal camp fires of winter, or blunted 
 the keen edge of battle during the campaigns of 
 summer. In the grandly luminous satisfaction of 
 such experience, all labor, pains, aches, and dis- 
 appointments, all the fictitious joys of success 
 among the highbred people of Comos were glad- 
 ly buried in the grave of oblivion, without a single 
 regret. The past can only be good, since it has 
 led to this consummated joy. 
 
288 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 It needed not the herald of spoken language to 
 tell Will and sister of my success. Every motion 
 of my being proclaimed it in every moment of time. 
 The fruition of our life hope, the coming to us of 
 long -coveted responsibilities, act as a powerful 
 spring to project far into plain relief the purposes 
 and energies of manhood. I now felt it was time 
 to plan and work for Susie's welfare. Will was 
 my best counselor. 
 
 "We must make the best of our circumstances," 
 he said. " The land is still here, and the negroes 
 are here also. White and black must make a liv- 
 ing together. Go over to the old homestead, Sam, 
 and see what is there. Make such contract with 
 the negroes as you think is right. The only thing 
 is to make the best crop we can, and as late as it 
 is we may do very well." He showed what ar- 
 rangement he had made with the hands on his 
 place, and told me how they had gone to work 
 with glad hilarity. 
 
 Thanking my practical brother-in-law for his 
 advice, I went at once. No time was to be lost. 
 I felt the inspiration of purpose, and went as one 
 having something to do, and a will to do it. Jack, 
 the faithful driver, the trusted servant of my father, 
 was the first to see me when I was yet a great way 
 off. I can never forget the unfeigned joy ex- 
 pressed in his honest black face, as he rushed up 
 to me saying: " God bless you, young massa. I's 
 glad to see you." I grasped his hand with a fer- 
 vor no less real. 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 289 
 
 He had come so rapidly as to attract the atten- 
 tion of the other servants, and here they came! 
 Old Mike, limping and gray-headed; George, the 
 carriage driver, growing old gracefully; John, the 
 preacher, and Joe, the exhorter, now looking old 
 and gray; Ike, in the prime of life, no longer awk- 
 ward, with his wife and a troop of children; Dick 
 and Jake, the boys I used to hunt with, now stal- 
 wart men. Then far in the rear, limping, hob- 
 bling, toddHng, "making haste slowly," came 
 mammy. She was still fat and plump, but old and 
 clumsy. Her will was fast, but her locomotion 
 was difficult. She reminded one of a barrel try- 
 ing to work its way on end, when it might have 
 fallen down and rolled much easier. 
 
 I pushed through the crowd and we soon met. 
 "My chile, my chile." This was about all she 
 said, but her tears were more eloquent than words. 
 My heart bounded with a saddened joy as I 
 grasped the old black hand which had led my in- 
 fant feet in the paths of safety. That hand had 
 ever been gentle and helpful to me. What a rush 
 of memories, sweet and sad, came to me at this 
 hour! Mammy was my earliest confidante, my 
 trusted friend in every stage of early life. That 
 young life stood out before me with special vivid- 
 ness just now. 
 
 By this time nearly all the old familiar faces 
 were looking on, each desiring and each receiving 
 special recognition. With this eager, trustful com- 
 pany around me, I felt that the Old Guard was 
 19 
 
290 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 there, and that the problem of a living was already 
 solved. Not seeing Uncle Sam, the patriarch, I 
 inquired where he was. This brought tears to 
 many eyes. " Done follered ole massa an' ole 
 missus," was the reply. 
 
 Under the spreading branches of an old famihar 
 oak in the lawn, I reminded them that the situa- 
 tion was as new to me as it was to them, and told 
 them what arrangement Will Benson had made 
 with the hands on his place. I ran over some ar- 
 ticles of agreement, and asked if they were entire- 
 ly satisfactory. There was an impulsive expres- 
 sion of approval. I knew that almost any contract 
 could be made with them, they v^ere so trustful; 
 but I resolved from the first to treat them fairly, 
 "to deal justly, and love mercy." 
 
 I told them nothing more than the truth when I 
 said it was a great joy for me to return and find 
 them all free. I promised them that if they would 
 be as faithful as freemen, as they had been in the 
 past, I would always be their friend, and they 
 would find me faithful to meet every obligation. 
 Jack, acting as spokesman for the rest, said that 
 he thought they would be worthy of trust. The 
 years that have passed have witnessed the fulfill- 
 ment of these mutual promises. 
 
 Jack was at once by common consent installed 
 as leader. He gave orders and all hands went to 
 work in earnest. I immediately took Jack into 
 counsel and told him frankly that the question of 
 rations for the hands was embarrassing. That I 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 29I 
 
 really did not know what could be done. The 
 old man smiled as he said : " Come dis way, young 
 massa." I seemed to have made the very speech 
 that pleased him most. 
 
 He led the way down toward the horse lot, where 
 there was a low shelter by the fence, which had 
 been used to house sheep in bad weather. It was 
 now piled around and nearly covered with rub- 
 bish. Jack pulled away some of the covering and 
 exposed the ends of cotton bales. " Ole massa," 
 he said, "had dese put here, and tole us not to 
 tell nobody what was in here." 
 
 " How many bales are in there, Jack?" 
 
 " Jes' one hund'ed, massa." 
 
 I fairly caught my breath, but only to take a 
 new start at breathing. Cotton was then worth 
 over a hundred dollars a bale. 
 
 Of course this happy find belonged as much to 
 the other two children as to me. It was timely for 
 us all. It furnished the means for a new start, 
 and enabled us to put our homes in good repair. 
 We appreciated it all the more because it was one 
 of the last acts of a thoughtful father for his chil- 
 dren. 
 
 With feelings of sadness I now opened the old 
 home so long closed. It had been the home of 
 my parents, the home of my childhood. Fondest 
 recollections, all saddened now by the shadow of 
 death, came trooping from the past. So real and 
 vivid were the images of my parents on my mem- 
 ory's tablet that I seemed almost in touch with 
 
292 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 them as I handled the familiar things they so con- 
 stantly used. 
 
 This was to be Susie's home. It was doubly 
 dear on that account. Memories sweetly sad and 
 anticipations fondly bright blended now as incense 
 rising from the altar of domestic affection. What 
 a joy to me that I now had the means of putting 
 the dear old home in thorough repair! I knew 
 two good Confederate soldiers who were carpen- 
 ters, and who had come out of the war with noth- 
 ing but their families and their trades. A job now 
 would be most opportune. A messenger was sent 
 for them, and they were employed to make the 
 improvements. 
 
 Mammy looked ten years younger, now that she 
 was installed housekeeper. Aunt Daphne, the old 
 cook, had gone over to join the "silent major- 
 ity," but a younger servant had filled the place, 
 and was now called into requisition. With my 
 two carpenter friends and occasional visitors my 
 bachelor life was not entirely lonely. We can en- 
 dure almost anything if we think it is to be of short 
 duration, and to be followed by something better. 
 Meanwhile, the farm work went on admirably. 
 Cotton and corn were planted and fences repaired 
 afterward. I never knew work pushed with more 
 energy, even in the days of slavery. The hands 
 now worked from a different motive. They seemed 
 to be cheerful and contented. 
 
 I sat in the hall one of those beautiful spring 
 days, enjoying the music of hammer and saw, and 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 293 
 
 listening to the distant song of the cheerful freed- 
 man, when my friend and comrade, John Hender- 
 son, rode up to the gate. He dismounted without 
 ceremony, and was hitching his horse, before I 
 could get out to express the welcome I felt. We 
 had not met for nearly two years. It was a glad 
 meeting, where heart went out to heart. 
 
 " I came by," he said, " to congratulate, and be 
 congratulated." 
 
 To this I made reply: " I am ready to receive 
 any amount of congratulation, and as for making 
 return, there has never been a day since our first 
 acquaintance that I have not felt like congratulat- 
 ing you." 
 
 "There has been many a day," he answered, 
 "when I felt like I deserved commiseration, but 
 that is not the case to-day." 
 
 As he said this, the bright, exultant soul of the 
 young man fairly glowed in his eyes. I knew my 
 friend had met with some good fortune, and I was 
 anxious to hear what it was. The carpenters and 
 their noise occupied the house, so we turned to a 
 seat under a lovely bower in the corner of the 
 yard. He had a brief and joyous recital. After 
 a prolonged and doubtful struggle, he had won the 
 approval of her parents, and now in a few days 
 he was to lead Miss Minnie Allen to the altar. I 
 extended to him the right hand of fellowship, and 
 our mutual congratulations were prolonged and 
 hearty. 
 
 He related how his love for Minnie had sprung 
 
294 
 
 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 up in his heart away back in the early days at the 
 academy; how it inspired every blow he gave 
 Dolph in her presence; how his love ripened into 
 resolutions stronger than life when he was work- 
 ing on the Major's residence; how, during all 
 these years, his heart had been wrung on the see- 
 saw between hope and despair; how keenly he 
 had felt the yawning social gulf, almost inpassa- 
 ble, between himself and the object of his adora- 
 tion. 
 
 During all these years Dolph was the welcome 
 visitor, the favored one whose prerogative it was 
 to accompany Miss Minnie out to all social gath- 
 erings. 
 
 "Still," said John, "I hoped on against all 
 odds. The war came, and I felt this was in my 
 favor. It would postpone the crisis and give me 
 more time. Then, as a soldier, I knew that in 
 the world's estimation I was nearer on an equality 
 with Dolph than ever before. I went into the war 
 to make a record which would help me to win the 
 idol of my heart or die in the effort. That thought 
 was present in every battle, and sustained me in 
 every hardship. It made me glad when Mr. Lin- 
 coln proclaimed the freedom of the slaves. I then 
 believed that the war would end with the freedom 
 of the negroes. Their freedom was the breaking 
 down of the main barriers in the way. That was 
 the leveling of the fort I dreaded most to charge. 
 As the fight went on, the result became more and 
 more apparent. All I had to do was to bide my 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 295 
 
 time, and make the effort to gain the parents' con- 
 sent, as I felt sure I had gained the daughter's 
 love. The old people have for years entertained 
 the idea that Dolph v^^as to be their son-in-law, and 
 their persistence in that idea had made Dolph hard 
 to shake off. But when they did come round, it 
 was done magnificently. This morning the Major 
 took my hand and said with tears in his eyes: 
 ' My son, you and Minnie are all we have now. 
 We cannot think of giving you up. There is 
 house enough here for us all. I want you to take 
 charge of the place and make a living for the fam- 
 ily.' I tell you, Sam, I fought the war through on 
 that line, and I gained the victory." 
 
 I remembered the contempt which Dolph put in 
 the word " carpenters " on the memorable day of 
 our visit to Maj. Allen's, while John was working 
 on that house. So I said, partly in reply and part- 
 ly to myself: " Then the house you built as a car- 
 penter, you are now to occupy as proprietor. 
 Well, you deserve congratulations." And again 
 I gave him a hearty shake of the hand. 
 
 John rose to start as one who had discharged 
 the business in hand. But before he left, as if to 
 complete the matrimonial news of the neighbor- 
 hood, he told me that Capt. Webb and Miss Juha 
 Parker were soon to be added to the number of 
 happy unions. 
 
 " Well," I asked in a jocular way, " what is to 
 become of Dolph? It will not do for him to be 
 left out." 
 
296 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 " Dolph is all right," he answered. " He had 
 two strings to his bow. It is always good in such 
 cases to get one of them broken. Miss Sallie Con- 
 way will make him a most excellent partner, and 
 we shall have them for our neighbors." 
 
 One busy month completed the days of my 
 bachelor life. In the flowery month of May I 
 led my own sweet Susie to the altar, and then 
 brought her to the dear old home to preside over 
 its destinies. 
 
 The faithful servants had earned a holiday, even 
 in the busiest period of the crop season. The best 
 feast that could be provided was given. And these 
 old friends of mine had a grand day in celebrating 
 the marriage of " young massa an' young missus." 
 This is the way the older negroes put it. The 
 younger ones toasted " de young boss and his 
 putty young wife." The old darkies invariably 
 said " massa; " the younger ones constantly used 
 the word "boss." Thus the old consen^ative and 
 the young progressive elements were even then at 
 work. They have both performed important parts 
 in the development of the new life of the race, and 
 are still at work. 
 
 As for mammy she occupied as much of the 
 premises as any three persons ; sporting a snow- 
 white cloth on her head, she was the busiest and 
 most delighted of the throng. '* Git outen my 
 way, niggers, I's takin' keer o' my chillern. 
 Day's boff mine. Didn' I nuss em boff when 
 dey vvus babies?" And the little urchins scam- 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 297 
 
 pered away, showing their good nature and white 
 teeth at the same time. 
 
 Thus the new life on the old plantation began : 
 a life of love and sweet contentment to " de young 
 boss an' his putty young wife; " a life of freedom 
 and compensated labor to those who were no lon- 
 ger slaves. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 Conclusion. 
 
 THE interest in human lives by no means ter- 
 minates with marriage. Many writers trace 
 their principal characters through all the mazes of 
 a lover's experience; through the agonies which 
 lie along the borders of despair; then along the 
 half painful gleamings of a trembling expectancy; 
 then into the glowing rapture of a rising hope ; 
 thence into the sorrows and heart-burnings of a 
 misunderstanding; and at last bring them out into 
 the clear light just in sight of the altar, leaving the 
 imagination to catch the idea that the chief end of 
 existence is to be consummated by the ceremony 
 of the priest. Such literature may, in part at least, 
 be responsible for much of the silly talk among 
 young people which conveys the impression that 
 their only aim in living is to get married. 
 
 Only the thoughtless and ignoble seek marriage 
 as a finality in life. By the thoughtful and loyal 
 mind it is regarded as a means to a nobler existence 
 and a wider usefulness. The marriage of noble, 
 congenial natures is a union of strength for the 
 real purposes and services of life. Both natures 
 are made stronger by the compact. They com- 
 plement and brace each other. " In union there is 
 strength," especially so in this kind of union: 
 (298) 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 299 
 
 strength of integrity, strength of purity. It is as 
 if two streams should come together, each holding 
 chemical elements to neutralize and precipitate the 
 impurities of the other. Thence the united stream 
 flows on clear as crystal and sparkling as the very 
 " waters of life." 
 
 Marriage is an epoch, a crisis. Life then takes 
 a nobler trend and projects its aims on a higher 
 scale, or ignobly shrinks from the high responsi- 
 bilities involved and becomes complaining drudg- 
 ery. Life is thenceforward rounded into beauty 
 and catches the inspiration of a nobler purpose, 
 or is marred into failure and sinks below all pur- 
 pose. Marriage, regarded as a means of accom- 
 plishing the grandest purposes of life, becomes, 
 when properly entered into, the happy consumma- 
 tion by which we reach a richer experience and a 
 wider and deeper life, moving and living on a 
 higher plain of existence. 
 
 A true marriage is in the highest degree normal, 
 and therefore brings to us, as nothing else can do, 
 a settled feeling, a sense of fixed and quiet satis- 
 faction. Single life is too much like the wayward 
 comet, moving in an orbit eccentric and uncertain. 
 When two such comets blend in perfect union, they 
 become a planet, moving in a regular orbit and 
 keeping step to the "music of the spheres." 
 
 Marriage has in it all the sweetness of divine 
 appointment. What an ecstacy to feel, to realize 
 in our own experience that our strongest earthly 
 desires and heaven's noble plans are moving in the 
 
300 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 same orbit ! To many noble minds this is a sweet- 
 ness which far excels that which comes from the 
 tenderness of love ; it is a joy greater than the joys 
 of loving companionship. The mind, which has 
 in a high degree the attribute of faith, and feels 
 the thrill of the divine presence and realizes God's 
 tender sanction to this union, feels a joy the unbe- 
 lieving can never feel. 
 
 The man or woman who enters into matrimony 
 on the low level of sordid motives or present grati- 
 fication, with no thought of high and holy obliga- 
 tions, not only misses the joys of sweet connubial 
 bliss, but sins against all that is most sacred; and 
 sins, most of all, against the deluded party, who, 
 loving and trustful, brings loyalty and purity, only 
 to be met and complemented with infidelity and im- 
 purity. What a sacrilege! How "unequally 
 yoked together ! ' ' Such a person thus coming 
 into this sacred union is as profane as an infidel 
 high priest who for filthy lucre should walk with 
 unhallowed feet in the holy of holies! Such a 
 union is a deception of the worst type, a fraud 
 heartless as it is blasting, a degradation beyond 
 the hope of restoration. Such a marriage is a sin 
 against high heaven and the most sacred interests 
 of societj\ 
 
 Susie and I have the very great satisfaction of 
 knowing that we have consummated a union in 
 which none but the purest motives have entered. 
 It is a union of hearts in which love has grown and 
 ripened. This love has grown with our growth 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 3OI 
 
 and strengthened with our strength. From infan- 
 cy it has been the sweet tie of an unbroken friend- 
 ship. It has been made stronger by waiting; has 
 been sanctified by suffering, and mellowed by sor- 
 row. In the fullness of time we have come to- 
 gether and laid the foundation of a new home : a 
 home that is to be our own. We intend it shall be 
 a real home : the nursery of affection, the dwelling- 
 place of the heart, the dearest spot on earth. We 
 are not concerned as to the pattern of the house 
 or the style of the furniture. In these tumultuous 
 times we are glad to have any house and any fur- 
 niture. But we are concerned as to the principles 
 which shall be woven into the texture of the home, 
 not of the dwelling, but of its occupants; the 
 same principles which should be vital in all homes 
 — principles which have made thousands of Amer- 
 ican homes the dwelling place of virtue, of intel- 
 ligence, of sweet contentment, and of happiness as 
 pure as belongs to earthly life. These, then, are 
 the principles on which we propose to construct 
 our home: 
 
 I. The recognition of the supreme authority and 
 gracious protection of an all-wise Providence. We 
 intend to cultivate the feeling that we have a Father, 
 infinitely wise and purely good ; that in all our ef- 
 forts to do right we shall be led by an unseen 
 hand and upheld by an unseen power; that in our 
 sorrows and afflictions we shall have a gracious 
 Comforter; and in our losses and failures, if we 
 preserve the integrity of our motives, we shall have 
 
302 SAM WILLIAMS: 
 
 one who can sympathize with our weaknesses and 
 help our infirmities. 
 
 A recognition of the divine presence in the af- 
 fairs of life is a constant inspiration for good. It 
 develops unflinching courage, giving strength to 
 convictions and fortitude to action. It makes us 
 feel that the right must finally prevail. With this 
 belief we take heart and stand unmoved amid the 
 wrecks of the hopes and the seeming failures in the 
 lives of good people. With a sublime faith " that 
 all things work together for good to them that love 
 God," we are prepared to walk in our sphere and 
 meet the responsibilities of life with brave and 
 trustful hearts. 
 
 2. The continued, abiding love of each other. 
 This is the chord of harmony in every home. 
 Without it the glitter of wealth and pride of posi- 
 tion are mere travesties on the sweets of domestic 
 life. No splendid building on spacious grounds, 
 nor costly living with courtly display can compen- 
 sate its absence. Without it marriage is a failure. 
 But with it the humblest home can be made to spar- 
 kle with the gems of happiness, and become the 
 arena of grand and noble lives. 
 
 3. The love of country. Every home in the land 
 should be the nursery of patriotism. As we stand 
 in the peculiar attitude of conquered subjects, it 
 will require some effort to cultivate this noble feel- 
 ing. It may be easy enough to lay down the rifle 
 and pick up the Constitution, but it is by no means 
 so easy to exchange at once the destructive spirit 
 
A TALE OF THE OLD SOUTH. 303 
 
 of the one for the preservative feehng of the other. 
 Yet the love of home involves the love of country. 
 The home is doubly dear to us because it is located 
 in the land we love. 
 
 4. Love for our neighbors. Much of the hap- 
 piness of life comes from congenial and loving 
 companionship with our neighbors. This feeling 
 should be cultivated. Every neighbor has abetter 
 side, and it is wise to live on that side. 
 
 Hoping that the reader, as well as the writer, may 
 have "love at home," and " peace on earth, good 
 will to men," I bid him, for a time at least, an af- 
 fectionate adieu. 
 
 The End. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 543