^nifaersiitpofiSortfjCarolina Collection of i^ortfj Caroliniana This book must not be token from the Library building. pE (SlRL IN (JHECKS; OR, THE MYSTERY OF THE MOUNTAIN CABIN. :^^ BY REV. J. W. DANIEL. "W^ PRICE 75 CENTS. Hi. L. FICKETT, Columbia, S. C. 1892. ■• .:iri«Slff«.'«3-«rv;^;>j3-='TT-- Entei'ed, according to Act of Congress, in the year i89o. By J. ^Y. Daniel, in the OflSce of the Librarian of Congress, at Wasliington. TO CQy Aged Father and niothet*, TO WHOM, UNDER DIVINE GRACE, I OWE EVERY THING, AND TO my Beloved Uiiie and Children, THE JOY OF MY LIFE, I Lovingly Dedicate This Volume. Author. (3) to 3sroTi<3i;. The scenes and thoughts recorded on these pages have struggled within me for utterance. I have given them to whosoever shall read this volume. I believe they will stimulate thought on the part of the reader, and prove suggestive to every earnest heart. I have no apology to make for any thing within these pages. The scenes, anecdotes, and incidents have been drawn from real life ; many of them are true. I am free to say the book contains more " truth than poetry,'^ no matter how poorly expressed. Author. (■i) Chapter I. page Boyhood's Vision Realized 9 Chaptkr II. The Ratifying RecejDtion ' 20 Chapter III. Reveahng Some Perplexing Mysteries 30 Chapter I^"". Wherein Are Recorded Some Amusing Exj^eriences, and Closing with a Tragedy 43 Chapter Y. Flat Rock Church and the Congregation 57 Chapter YI. Eugene Dudevant 64 Chapter YIL Burial of Eugene Dudevant, and a Look into the Old Homestead 72 Chapter YIII. A Yisit into the Region Beyond 83 Chapter IX. The Find on the Lonely Mountain-side 100 Chapter X. Randal Fox, Who Had No Love for War 109 . • (5) 6 Contents. Chapter XL page The Arrest 116 Chapter XII. Sam Houston's Wife's Journey to a Living Tomb, and Her Death 128 Chapter XIIL How 'Cinda Retained Her Name. 135 Chapter XIV. The Distillery, and Death of Randal Fox 140 Chapter XV. The Grave on the Lonely Mountain-side 147 Chapter XVL The Veil Lifted from the Mountain Cabin 158 Chapter XVII. The Advent into the World 171 Chapter XVIII. A Widow Driven from Home 176 Chapter XIX. A Backwoods Divine on Baptism 184 Chapter XX. A New-fashioned Shirt, and a Deer-chase 196 Chapter XXI. A Camp-hunt and How It Terminated 202 THE GIRL IR eHEGKS. ©HAF'T'^^ I- BOYHOOD'S VISION REALIZED. BLUE jeans and cottonade checks, as arti- cles of apparel, are as inseparably con- nected with the people inhabiting the mount- ain-ranges of Upper Carolina as the provin- cialisms of their "cracker" dialect. Indeed, there seems to be an "eternal fitness" exist- ing between the mountaineer and his toilet. He appears as much out of place clad in broad- cloth or other fabrics as a woman at the mast's head. Four things, from some cause, have been indissolubly joined together: home- raised tobacco, clay pipes, blue jeans, and the mountaineer. In early boyhood I have stood many a time in the long, old-fashioned piazza of the old m 8 The Girl in Checks. mansion at the homestead in Laurens County, and watched, with a great deal of childish in- terest and with no small degree of curiosity, the long trains of covered wagons pass along the public highway leading from the mount- ains via Greenville, S. C, which was then a small town, to Augusta, Ga., which in those days was the great emporium of the mountain trade of Western North and South Carolina. The sturdy mountaineer hauled the scant prod- uce of his farm, chiefly apples and chestnuts, across the vast stretch of intervening country, and there exchanged it for those commodities w^hich he could not otherwise procure. The wagons, in companies of eight or ten, were generally drawn by either four or six mules ; and very frequently there was attached to the top of the hames a frame containing a number of tiny bells, which kept up a contin- uous jingle as the teams moved along the high- way. The wagons were covered with great white sheets of Osnaburgs stretched over a wooden bow-frame. Feed-troughs were at- tached to the rear gates of the great curved BoijhoocVs Vision Realized. 9 bodies, and were, while moving, the receptacle of the cooking utensils, which kept up a per- fect medley of any thing but harmonious sounds as the great wagons jolted over the rough roads. A large wooden tar-bucket was suspended from the center of the rear axle, and frequently a savage-looking dog trot- ted along under the wagon-bed, having been trained to move and stop with the vehicle. The driver kept his place in the saddle day after day, and the swaying motion of his body diagonally from side to side corresponded pre- cisely with the strides of the draught beast upon which he sat. The loud crack of his whip sounded like the report of a rifle, and to me it was always the signal of an approaching train. Therefore mountain wagons and cos- tumesf together with the odor of mellow ap- ples, tar, and home-raised tobacco smoke, were indelibly stamped on memory's page. I frequently dreamed of orchards hanging Tvdtli great red apples, of mountains a great deal higher than the steep hills down by the ravine, and of many things, indeed, which my 10 The Girl in Checks. cliiklisli imagination associated with the re- o;ion from which these mountaineers came. So that in January, 1880, as my faithful horse climbed the steep acclivities of the mountain spurs of Upper South Carolina, not- withstanding it had been a long time since my eyes and nostrils had come into contact with the things mentioned in the first part of this paragraph, I as readily recognized them as if they had been the faces of familiar friends. But these familiars were destined soon to be associated with scenes and mysteries altogeth- er new and thoroughly perplexing to me. Tom Thaxton's name was on the p/r/n of my circuit. He was one of the stewards of Flat Eock Church. He lived somewhere in the vicinity of the far-famed Table Rock. The bleak perpendicular sides of that stupendous mass of granite had already greeted my view for several hours, and now I clambered along almost at its very base. I knew by my proxim- ity to this wonderful freak of nature that I was nearing my journey's end, for Tom Thaxton's home was my destination. " Will you be kind Boijhood 's Vision Realized. 11 enough to direct me to the home of Mr. Thax- ton?" I said to a tall, cadaverous-looking man whom I chanced to meet in the highway. Bringing the breech of his old-fashioned rifle to the ground with a thump that made the ramrod quiver and rattle in its receiver as if it had been subjected to an electric shock, and pushing his slouch woolen hat far back on his head, he replied: "Beant you one of them revenue fellows? " Having assured him that I was not, I again sought the desired information. But my in- quiry was again met by a reply that in nowise pertained to the matter in hand. " Stranger, yer 'pears to be mighty fresh in these here parts, but yer look like yer mout hold a purty fa'r hand in an argimint. I han't hearn a reg'lar knock-down vilification of the way the gov'mint's a tryin' to regerlate peo- ple's private concerns since the baptizin' down at 'Possum Creek las' summer. Col. Good- man was down thar', an' tli Karnel's a power- ful knowin' man too, an' bein a can'idate for the legislatur', the Karnel was mighty talka- 12 The Girl in Checks. tive. He got strung out, as we was settin' on them logs beyant the meetin' house thess 'fore sarvice begun, on the way the gov'mint's try- in' to make ev'ry man turn out his crap an' fence his cattle. His first pint was, sezee: * The dum brutes was put outside when they was made; why,' sezee, ' beca'se the rattle- snakes would take this country ef the hogs was not outside to eat up their aigs an' young uns." This second pint was 'bout them lean cows Pharaoh saw a commin' outen the river. The Karnel's pow'ful well-read in the Script- ur', an' he showed us that the dum' brutes would perish, all hemmed up in pastur', an' he made it mighty clare that the Scripture was a law. His third pint was, sezee : ' The land in the pastur's would be ruined by the cattle a trampin' over it in wet weather, an' ' sezee, 'the country would soon become so poor that two men couldn't raise a fuss on a forty acre field, let alone sprout a pea.' I tell you it was a master argiment, an' he went to the Legislatur' too, you better believe it, old hoss; it were that talk that 'lected the Karnel as Boyhood's Vision Realized. 1 o shear's you are a born stranger to these dig- in's. Say, f ureigner, you han't hearn how the Karnel is gettin' on nghtin' that stock law, have you?" Seizing an opportunity just here, I told my loquacious friend that the Colonel would, in all probability, secure an exeraption for that section of the State from the bill that was then pending in the Legislature ; and hoping to turn the current of his conversation into the desired channel, I ventured the assertion that the mountainous surface of the country would make it impfossible to fence in a sufficient area to pasture a large herd of cattle in any one place, and therefore that there was no danger whatever of the bill becoming a law for that portion of the State. " Correct, shoar's I'm a livin' man," ex- claimed the mountaineer. "Say, new-comer, you han't runnin' fur no office, are you? That idee of yourn would 'lect a man to the Senate shoar's you are a born son of your daddy." He twisted his thin beard, meditatively. 14 The Girl in Checks. shifted his gun to the other side, pushed his slouch hat still further back on his shaggy head, and continued : " You tote good idees an' wear store clothes an' say you an't one of them revenue fellows, nor han't rannin' for no office nuther ; you mystifies a body. Would you mind tellin' where you come from an' what's your business in these parts?" Of course I gave the honest inquirer the desired information, emphasizing my special business at that moment — viz., to find the way to Tom Thaxton's house. "Well, you han't fur from Tom Thaxton's now; he lives right on this road an' about two miles from this p'int. Tom's a mighty good nabor, an' thar an't but one thing that can be said agin him, and that is he han't got right an' proper view an' idees concernin' the Scriptur'. I'm a preacher of the gospel my- self, but I han't the man to fall out with a fellow 'cause he can't see as I see, specially with a fellow that has 'nough hoss-sense to see what's for the good o' the country. Good- by, circuous-rider. But hold on; would you Boyhood 's Vision Bealized. 15 mind givin' a fellow-laborer your paw in the right hand of fellowship for the good o' the country? 'Tain't no use in bein' strangers, if we can't 'zactly gine hands in religion." I gave his reverence the desired boon, and hastened up the mountain-side, determined in my heart to ask no one else the way to Tom Thaxton's house until I had exhausted every other effort to find the place of my destination. I had gone but a little distance when the narrow road began its tortuous descent into a broad, beautiful valley. Through this valley one branch of the prattling Saluda swej^t its way, its waters straggling apparently to get out from under the shadow of the great granite cliffs that towered heavenward on every side. On the west the valley was bounded by Table Eock Mountain. The north-east side was shut in by a long range of broken, craggy mount- ains, spurs of the great Blue Ridge. The northern end of the valley seemed to gradually lose itself among the far-away blue mount- ains that arose pile upon pile until they seemed to jut against the sky itself. South- 16 The Girl in Checks. ward there were quite a number of little mountains, oval - shaped, which dotted the widening expanse of country, and which, from their shape, might have been very appropri- ately christened the " Potato-hills of the Gi- ants." The valley thus shut in was dotted here and there with crude dwelling-houses, which resembled, from the eminence upon which I stood, so many chicken coops in a barn-yard with miniature chimneys attached thereto. Passing down into this secluded valley, there came over me a feeling of isolation and lone- liness — So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. Looking back over the "Potato-hills of the Giants," which shut me in from the broad, un- dulatory plains of my former da3'S, a heavy shadow came over my soul, for they seemed to rise up fixed, impassable barriers between me and the old home of my boyhood days. So repulsive was the impression that I looked not again behind me. BoyhoocVs Vision Eealized, 17 Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round, walks on And turns no more his head. Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. The granite hills of Table Kock to my left looked down on me defiantly. The towering, rock-ribbed hills to my right and in front seemed to whisper trinmphantly: "Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther." Reader, hast thou ever descended alone the precipitous declivities of som§ towering mount- ain into the isolated vale beneath, while the thoughts of loved ones miles away filled thy heart? Hast thou ever experienced that de- pressed feeling of isolation that creeps over the soul amid the death-like silence that per- vades the coves and glens of these " everlast- ing hills," and produces that acute and inde- scribable sense of loneliness? Hast thon, like the " Sweet Singer of Israel," ever been aIo)te in the vale? 2 18 The Girl in Checks, Alone! that worn-out word, So idly and so coldly heard; Yet all that poets sinsr, and grief hath known, Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word, alone. Such were my impressions as I began the de- scent into the valley. I intuitively christened it the " Yale of Loneliness and Seclusion." Crossing this secluded vale in a north-west- erly direction, I again came to the foot of the mountains, and began the winding ascent. The hitherto painful silence was now broken, for just where the road began its upward course a small creek leaped over the rocks, making a perpendicular descent of fifty feet or more, forming a most beautiful cataract, and dispelling by its gushing music the awful, all- pervading silence of the valley. I had climbed the mountain for only a short distance, how- ever, when I came suddenly upon a cabin by the road-side. Conjecturing that it was the home of Tom Thaxton, I reined up my horse in front of the gate of the low rail fence that encircled the humble dwelling. The furious barking of a large mastifp brought the house- Boijhood's Vision Bealized. 19 wife to tlie door. I saluted lier and was on the eve of inquiring as to wlietlier or not I was right in my conjecture, when she relieved me of that task in rather an abrujDt manner. I was, indeed, correct in my anticipations. This was the home of Tom Thaxton. The first utterance that fell from the lips of my prospective hostess proved it beyond a shadow of doubt. ©HAPT^"^ II. THE RATIFYING RECEPTION. "/^ TOM! come to the house; the new preach- \J er has come." This sentence was uttered by my hostess as she stood in the door-way of her cabin home. The shrill notes greeted the ears of the plain, backwoods husband, who was engaged in dis- tributing shucks, a hundred yards away, to the cattle that had gathered into the small barn-yard, impatiently clamoring for their evening meal. The introduction which I thus received was queer enough, it is true, but then it was to the point. So much cannot be said of all introductions. There was no uncertain sound about it. "The 7iew preacher has come!" What an apt guesser! Could there be any thing cler- ical in my appearance ? Surely not. But there was evidently something upon which she based (20) The Bafiffjiiig Beception. 21 her conjecture. Perliai^s it was because I wore " store clothes,'' as my reverend " Hardshell brother " had ah-eady informed me. Such were my thoughts as I alighted from the tired steed that had borne me so faithf ull}) along the x^recipitous roads of that mountain- ous section to this, the lowly home o£ one of my parishioners. " The new preacher! " His coming was ev- idently an event in the monotonous history of that secluded home. But how the words rung in my ears! They startled and paralyzed, for the moment, every energy of my soul. How new indeed I was in the exercise of the func- tions of that sacred office had never before sunk so impressively into my heart. Never before had the sacred solemnities and weighty responsibilities of this divinely instituted of- fice come upon me with such crushing force. To feed the flock of God and to seek the lost amid such mountain wilds, and in such homes as the one at whose gate I now stood, involved experience and demanded energy, zeal, and devotion. I felt keenlv the lack of the former. 22 The Girl in Checks. and entirely incapable of exercising the latter traits to that degree which would insure suc- cess. Indeed, the toils and transcendent solic- itude of the Chief Shepherd, as portrayed in the parable of the lost sheep, loomed up be- fore me in a light never before realized. For five years preceding this event I had been locked up in the cloisters of a literary college, going daily through the routine work of a stu- dent's life, preparing, as I thought, for the life of a common barrister. But God in his ten- derness and wonderful condescension had laid his hand upon me, and I had unhesitatingly yielded myself up to him. Just two months previous to the event about which I am writing I had received license as a local preacher; and just two weeks prior to the afternoon of which I have spoken I was received as "an applicant for admission on trial" into the South Carolina Conference, and now I stand before Tom Thaxton's ,£?ate the anxiously-looked-for '^ new preacher." Where will these transpositions end'^ But this spell was broken by the presence The Ratify'nu) Reception. 23 of Tom Tliaxton. He was competent, as we sliall see, to break any spell; for he was truly an original character, unlike all other " Toms," and as to that unlike all other men. He was clad in the inevitable blue jeans homespun, with an ample supply of corn-silks and bits of shucks adhering to his tall, angular form, bearing intelligence, at least to my faithful horse, that his most pressing wants would be speedily satisfied. For as gentle " Bill " looked upon these badges of what the barn contained they became to him an earnest of his night's lodging ; hence he greeted the approach of my plain host with a friendly, obsequious neigh. He seemed over-willing to give himself into the hands of this stranger, his instinct teach- ing him that he would fare sumptuously. In- deed, so marked were his demonstrations that I almost became provoked at his obsecjuious- ness. But nature is always true to itself. The marked deference which my horse paid to this stranger is in hearty accord with a spirit fre- quently observable in man. He doubtless thought that warm and comfortable quarters p 24 Tlie Girl in Checks. were at stake. AVlien a soft bed and downy pil- lows are the probable reward, man himself is no exception to such obsequiousness. As de- testable as a favor-courting spirit may appear, that certain benefits may be received, or that certain apprehended dangers may be obviated, those persons who do not practice more or less such demeanors are the very rare excep- tions. Bat such verbosity! What a dialect! Had a few of my old college chums been there, how they would have heaved with laughter! With- out the least ceremony my host began in this strain: "We know'd you'd be here. Betsy was a-sayin' this mornin' that she know'd, in reason, that you'd be here, beca'se to-morrow is your reg'lar day, in course, out at the Flat, and the preachers always stop here. But what might be your name? We han't hearn who's app'inted to our side. Lou's gone fur the pa- per now. Betsy was a-sayin' las' night that she would bet ten pumj)kins when the app'int- ments come we'd get somebody we didn't know nothin' about. But Betsy will lose her bet The EatifijuKj Beception. 25 for once in her life, for you've outtraveled the app'iutmeuts, an' she'll have to eat her word, shoar, fur we'll I'arn somethin' 'bout you 'fore Lou comes with the Advocated Just here I seized an opportunity to make known my name, as my host paused to get breath. "Sakes alive! I didn't know anybody was named that these days. But the elder 'lowed in his sarmon over at the 'las quarterly meet- ing that history was always repeatin' itself; but ^e didn't think he was a-goin' to repeat history on us so soon. "Well, Brother Daniel, you han't quite got into the lion's den, but you han't fur from it, for we uns are mighty poor people on this circuit; but then we uns are pow- erful friendly. An' it thess this minnit popped into my head, Dave Lyon lives over on Oolenoi, an' Dave's a Baptist, an' he dearly loves to ar- gufy, an' if you should drop in some time to see Dave, you'll be in the Lyon's den as shoar as you are the new preacher. See here! Come, go in to the fire an' make yoarself at home, for I know you mus' be cold. I'll 'tend to you/ 26 The Girl in Checks. creeter. Betsy! Betsy! don't let Ring bite the little preacher." What a welcome pause! for he had certainly given me enough to tax to their utmost capac- ity my digestive functions for a few moments at least. "Poor, but friendly!" What itinerant preacher has not lived long enough to appre- ciate friendUneas, even when mixed with pov- erty? What itinerant preacher has not some- times groaned, "being burdened," because — situated as he was even among wealthy and independent parishioners — friendship, the kind that takes hold of the itinerant's heart, had apparently departed? What itinerant has not rejoiced at the presence of this silver- winged comforter, even in the homes of the lowliest? "Poor, but friendly," inestimable and precious kind of poverty! May it be mul- tiplied ! As my host led my horse away toward the barn Betsy Thaxton came into the yard and grasped a chain, to one end of which was at- tached a huge block of wood and to the other The Ratifijing EeceiJtlon. 27 a raging brindled dog, the only being that dis- puted my right of way to the house, and the only unfyiemUij thing that greeted my ap- proach to the dwelling of this simple-hearted " child of a King." And as I kept practically in view the scriptural injunction, "Beware of dogs," by giving a wide berth to the savage- looking beast, there also flashed through my mind the experiences of the last fifteen min- utes. My host had made free with my name by alluding to its historic associations; and, not content with that, had most unmercifully referred to my littleness of stature as though these things were under my control. I had been unfortunate in this respect at college. If I happened to scratch my forehead with the spiral of a shirt stud, in adjusting that gar- ment on a cold morning, the accident only served to bring me a pet name, " Scratch-fore- head," varied, when the labors preparatory to examination claimed my most diligent atten- tion, to "Scratch forward," and at last to the by no means euphonious cognomen of "Scratch," for short. 28 The Girl in Checks. When I published iu a newspaper the first production of my humble pen, little "prepar- atory imps " cried through college hall and over college cainpns: "O Te}npora! the prophet has turned novelist, and the lions have lost a meal." So things moved for five years; but now I expected these frivolities to cease. But not so, alas! And I have long since learned that human nature is ever the same the world over. The polished gentleman, the mischiev- ous school-boy, and the untoward backwoods- man each appreciates and has his own way of appropriating and manufacturing the ridicu- lous. These puns and efforts at wit, with the unlearned especially, are evidences, though not always so received, of a warm affection, on the part of the originator, for the one so vic- timized. I have long since learned to love the soul that knows hov>^ to launch forth puns and jests. They are food for the weary mind, and refreshing draughts to the overburdened heart. Having stood the ordeal, therefore, of my host's witticisms, and having also, through the The Eatifijing Reception. 29 assistance of my hostess, passed the only iin- friendhj object — the ferocious Ring — I entered for tlie first time the door of Tom Thaxton's mountain cabin. The revelations of that mysterious home are reserved for the next chapter. eHAl®'^£^^ III- REVEALING SOME PERPLEXING MYSTERIES. O dear I loved tlie man," that I must say, " I took him for the plainest harmless creature That l:)reathed upon the earth a Christian ; Made him my book," and learned from him much that has profited and encouraged me. But, like all tlioughtful books, he was difficult to read as I would have read him. Tom Thaxton was indeed original, suggestive, and amusing. But, best of all, he was orthodox to the core, practically and the- oretically. Such was my estimate of him when I learned him. He was well matched; for so soon as I sat down before the blazing log-heap that crackled cheerily in the broad fire-place I learned that Betsy Thaxton knew how to ask questions and make comments. As she went about preparing the evening meal at the fire by which I sat she learned from me the ap- (=iO) ReveaUng Some Peri)lexinfj Mysteries. 31 pointments of all tlie ministers with whom she had been associated in former years. She talked much of their virtues and idiosyncra- sies, and then, by a well-framed cross-exam- ination, she seemed determined to ascertain all that it was proper to know concerning the person of the new preacher, winding up, as she I)laced the last di,sh upon the table, with the very personal declaration: "My child, you've got a heap to learn." Just as my hostess reached that important climax my host entered the house, having completed the chores, and we drew our chairs around the table preparatory to taking our evening meal. Of course I knew that all or- thodox Methodists began their meals by in- voking God's blessing, but I confess no little mental confusion when my host bid me " make a heginninfj,'" and had not he and his devoted wife reverently bowed their heads I am afraid that I w^Quld not have grasped the meaning of that utterance. My appetite was keen enough, after the long day's ride, but I soon discov- ered that I would be compelled to satisfy it by 32 The Girl in Checks. eating hiticeen times. Much of my time was cousumed by answering t^uestions from both sides of the house. However, when the meal was conchuled and the time came to return thanks, I was readier to catch the meaning of my host when he asked me to " make an ending:' Such decorum may seem strange to those who have been reared amid the refining influ- ences of cultivated society; but when we take into consideration the environments and iso- lating circumstances of these mountaineers, it is altogether excusable. They are separated from the outside world, and are literally hun- gry ioY news. At best, mails reach them but once a week, and to many even this privilege is denied. It is said that eager crowds run along for quite a distance after coaches on the frontier, asking the driver many questions rel- ative to occurrences in the States. Caesar in- forms us that the barbaric tribes of ancient Gaul were accustomed to gather around the traders who entered their territory and ask many questions relative to the outside world. These traders, we are informed, often invented BevealuKj Some Perplexing Mysteries. 33 marvelous stories, aud related them just to witness the great surprise and large wonder on the part of the interested listeners. What a wonderful economy is ours! It meets, and in a large measure satisfies, this natural propensity on the part of the most iso- lated member of the Church. Not only has every Methodist preacher the inestimable priv- ilege of imparting information to the most ig- norant backwoodsman, but our noble plan of pastoral and itinerant work enables each preacher to become thoroughly acquainted with the prominent characteristics of his field of labor, oftentimes before he is twenty-four hours on the work, thus becoming a hooh for the people, and at the same time studying them as his hooh. Such, indeed, was the memorable experience of my first night at Tom Thaxton's. When he •had exhausted his ample store of questions, he turned i}iformer. All the peculiar Church characters in the community were painted in his homely way, and stood before me, soon to be met, as I afterward realized, as real living 3 84 The Girl in Checks. beings. The important news tliat I ^vas in a "Hard-sliell" community must not, of course, be Avitlilield from me. "They won't fellowship any of us. They don't believe in book-larnin', either, an' it won't be many days 'fore some of 'em'll be a-cuttin' at you. You just ought to hear 'em preach. Their preachers are as thick as feathers on a duck's back 'round here. Parson Pond duck had it 'nounced an' n orated that he was goin' to preach a sarmon on the 'postolic mode of baptism las' Sunday, an' I rid ovei to hear him. His text was: * Thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness.' He didn't tell us whar it was, but said it mout be found betwixt the lids of the Bible. 'Pears mighty strange that they won't tell whar their text is. Betsy has been a-huntin' for it. She don't believe it's inside the lids of the Bible, beca'se the j)arson wouldn't tell whar it w^as; but I told her it sounded powerful like Scriptur' to me. But the text and sarmon wa'n't no kin." " Can you give me his exegesis of the text? " I asked. Bevecdiiig Some Perplexing Mysteries. 35 "Sakes alive! There wa'n't none iu it. He didn't say a word 'bout them Greek words. But Brother Slater told us all 'bout them eks and inSj an' all 'em Greek w^ords when he preached on baptism for us down at the Flat. He splained 'em all so that they w^ere power- ful clare to my mind. I tell you he was a mas- ter preacher. But Parson Pondduck didn't touch on that line; an' he didn't say a word 'bout circumcision, for he know'd all them things w^ere ag'in' him, an' that he couldn't crawd over them. 'Pears powerful strange to me that they can't see nothin' in water but a grave, anyhow. He talked powerful 'fecting 'bout the water 3^ grave, an' said nobody would ever go to heaven but them that w^ent through that grave. He said that the watery grave w^as the narrow way that our Saviour spoke of, be- ca'se every man just made a hole to fit himself as he went down into the narrow stream. 'Peared to me it was a shallow an' sloppy way too. He 'lowed 'the^ Primitive Baptists w^ere the few that entered therein. Thev w^ould be saved beca'se ' Thus they fulfilled all righteous- 36 The Girl in Checks. ness.' He said that sprinkliu' an' pourin' an* all them highf alutin' an' do-as-you-please ways were the broad way that led down to destruc- tion. I tell you the members took on awfully, an' I believe they thought it was the pure gos- pel. But that sarmon didn't sound much like the Scriptur' to me. As we come off from the church, I rid along with Deacon Jones, an' sez I to him : , ' Parson Pondduck didn't nigh stick to his text to-day, 'cordin' to my notion.' He 'lowed 'twas clare as the sun to him that Par- son Pondduck tracked the Scriptur' from be- ginnin' to eend. Sez I to him, sez I, ' It stands to reason, then, that everybody will be lost but you uns.' He 'lowed, sez ee, to me, sez ee, that some mout be saved in furren countries, where they didn't have the Scriptur' to read, beca'se, sez ee, they were without the gospel, an' the Lord might take pity on their ignorance an' save them; but, sez ee, in this enlightened land where the Scriptur' is expounded, that it was just as Parson Pondduck had said. Just then 'Cinda Smith overtuck us. An' 'Cinda is a Methodist from the crown of her head to the Revealing Some Perplexing Mysteries. 37 soles of lier feet. It would a done you good just to liearu her jine in the argufication. Sez she, ' It Stan's to reason, then,' sez she, 'if Par- son Pondduck is right 'bout the 'Hard-shell' Baptists bein' all that's goin' to be saved, that heaven would have to l^e rented out. An',' sez she, 'it's 'cordin' to Scriptur', too, beca'se,' sez- she, * I hearn Elder Simpkins prove outeu the Bible down at the Cave when quarterly meetin' was held there that heaven was a mighty big place.' An' she 'lowed, sez she, everybody that know'd any thing know'd there wer'n't many 'Hard-shell' Baptists in the world; 'not enough,' sez she, 'to fill one corner of heaven.' She 'lowed there wer'n't enough of them to keep the music a-goin' an' to tend to the purty flowers in the green fields of Eden. *An',' sez she, * it stands to reason in my mind that un- less it's rented out you uns will have a power- ful hard time a-doin' all them things the Script- ur' speaks of bein' carried on there.' You just ought to seed Deacon Jones bile over. He han't said a word to me 'bout baptism since. Never mind, they'll be out as thick as hail at 38 The Girl in Checks, the Flat to-morrow to hear you preach; that is, if it is a day fitten, and " — I know not what my host would have said, for just then his sentence was broken by the entrance of a young lady, whom Tom Thaxton introduced as his daughter. The amusing experiences and theological controversies related by my host had already driven sleep away from my tired body. I had been amused, bewildered, and mortified, and, I must say, instructed. Indeed, that such people as these, to whom the bishop had sent me, existed within the bounds of my native State was really stranger to me than fiction. That such theology (?) was taught in the nine- teenth century, and that, too, within the bounds of an enlightened and civilized country, was a truth that the schools had failed to teach me. But heivildered as I had been, bewilderment is scarcely an adequate term by which to ex- press the state of my mind as I stood confront- ing the maid who had just entered — Louise Thaxton. She was tall, graceful, queenly, just blooming into young womanhood. Her feat- Revealing Some Petyleximj Mysteries, 39 ures were delicate, and her facial expression was o£ the most intellectual cast. In a word, her rare physical beauty, her cultured deport- ment, and the evidence she gave of cultivation and refinement were in strange contrast with her surroundings. I looked up at the crude old family clock, and it was just nine. I had previously learned from my host that Louise Thaxton had been on her weekly errand to the nearest little town, nearly twenty miles away, for the purpose of getting the mail and procuring also whatever little articles the family was compelled to make use of, and which could not be manufactured at home. That long journey had been per- formed in the primitive style, on horseback. Since darkness had thrown its sable shadows over her pathway the road she traveled had led her through the dark valleys and over the towering crags of the lofty spurs of the Blue Eidge. The oppressive silence of that ride had been interrupted only by the melancholy sound of the rushing cataracts, the occasional scream of the owls and night-birds that in- 40 The Girl in Checks. fested the coves of that wild and lonesome re- gion, and perhaps the doleful howl of the cat- amount as it sought its prey among the rugged cliffs. w An untimely hour, to be sure, for the return of an unaccompanied and unprotected girl. I afterward learned, however, that such was the custom of the x^eople of this isolated region, because the natural environments and surroundings of these hardy mountaineers have begotten in them an intrepidity worthy of the bravest. This bold, fearless spirit is common to both sexes. But these were les- sons learned long after that eventful night of which I am writing. And that an unprotected girl should have performed such a journey, and on her return unsaddled, stabled, and fed her steed, was to me simply marvelous. But what most perplexed me was the problem of the existence of one of such rare beauty, re- fined deportment, and cultured speech in such a home, one so crude and primitive as Tom Thaxton's. How could it be that one reared by those who spoke the cracker dialect, and who was completely separated from refined EeveaVnig Some Perplexing Mysteries. 41 and polished society, should speak our lan- guage with the precision and elegance of a Macaulay, and at the same time exhibit the deportment of the most refined? As Louise Thaxton stood before me the very impersonation of an ideal beauty, clad in homespun cottonades, while rough, home- made leather shoes incased her small, hand- somely shaped feet — a veritable mountain girl in dress and general attire — but in speech, carriage, and deportment a pure lily of the valley, I forgot the amusing experiences of the last few hours, and sat fixed to the chair, un- able to wrench my gaze from her enrapturing person. Tom Thaxton's tongue, however, ran unceasingly on, but his words made little or no impression on me. Even our evening de- votions failed to banish from my mind for a moment the mysterious problem that had so unexpectedly confronted me. Even when as- signed to my little and scantily furnished chamber sleep was driven from me, while I lay pressed down into the great feather-bed by the bountifiil supply of home-woven coun- 42 The Girl in Checks. terpanes and woolen blankets that Betsy Thax- ton had been so careful to place over the bed, that the cold winds of January, which howled through the cracks of my apartment, might not reach my tired body. My person was there- fore doubly protected from the cruel cold, but the mystery that enveloped one member of that isolated family drove sleep, sweet sleep, from my eyes, and tortured cruelly the inner man. ^ O sleep ! O gentle sleep ! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee. That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness? ©HAT^'T"^^ ^^• WHEREIN ARE RECORDED SOME AMUSING EXPERI- ENCES, AND CLOSING WITH A TRAGEDY. THE chamber which I occupied was located at one end of a little piazza. Those who have traveled in the mountains will recognize this very necessary appendage of a first-class mountain cabin. Early on the following morning I was aroused, having fallen asleep just before day, from this quiet retreat by a loud rap on the door of the little chamber, accompanied by the familiar voice of Tom Thaxton: "Git up; ive Hits are ready for to eat." I hastily adjusted my toilet. The sun's rays were darting through the cracks of my room, bringing to me the intelligence that the winds had blown away the lowering clouds, and fur- thermore impressing me with the fact that it would be "a day ftfen,'' according to Tom Thaxton's cracker phraseology, for my strange (43) 44 The Girl in Checks. auditors to turn oxnten masse. These precious rays, uotwitlistaiidiiig the " Hard-shell " audi- ence they might bring, came to me like the in- fluence and associations of a precious gift from a kind friend. God's gifts are common to all men. No matter how far we may be separated from those we love, or what circumstances may surround us, God's precious gifts are always present with us; we cannot be sej^arated from them. God had caused the wdnds to sweep away the clouds. O that a like dispensation of an omniscient Father would lift the clouds of mystery that have involuntarily overshad- owed my mind! ^ Such were my meditations as I kneeled by the side of my bed and poured out my soul in thanksgiving and adoration for the blessings and loving-kindness of a gracious Father. When I had finished my devotions, and be- gan to search for a basin in which to bathe my burning eyes, alas! there v/as none. Such neglect was unpardonable. I was almost vexed. But " while in Rome we must do as Rome does." I was, however, soon relieved from Some Amusing Experiences. 45 this embarrassing situation by the re-appear- ance of my host, Avho rapped upon the door and said: "When you get ready to wash your face an' ban's, just come out to the spout." I stepped out into the little piazza, and thence followed my host into the narrow yard back of his dwelling. The scene that was there opened up to me was truly enrapturing. The mount- ain, on the side of which the house was located, rose sublimely perpendicular, almost, from the very underx^inning of the dwelling. In- deed, the sides of the mountain had been dug away so as to make level the site of the little log cabin. The rays of the early morning's sun flashed upon the hugh masses of dripping rock; thence they w^ere reflected, causing these immense piles of granite to resemble enormous bowlders of pure glass. Away up the mount- ain-sido a little stream leaped over the per- pendicular rocks, forming a most beautiful cascade. The streamlet lined the rugged mountain-side like a thread^ of silver, contin- ually rushing dowm, down toward the dark val- ley beneath us. Now it is lost behind the stu- 46 The Girl in Checks, pendous piles of earth and rock; again it darts forth like a ray of light, lea^^ing out of the earth itself. Nearer and yet nearer it ap- proaches, forming all along its pathway num- bers of little cascades transcendently beauti- ful, but less imposing than the larger one higher up the mountain. On and on it came until its pellucid waters, fresh from the heart of the mountain, poured through a wooden spout and fell in a crystal stream at our feet. In that beautiful stream of pure water, fresh from the reservoirs of the "everlasting hills," I bathed on that beautiful Sunday morning in January, 1880. Little did I then dream that at some future day, as I should wander along the banks of that little rill, tracing it up the steep mountain-side, there would suddenly burst upon me the full revelation of the "mystery of the mountain cabin," yet such was the case. Enraptured by the handiwork of Him who "marshals the hosts of heaven and thunders forth in the artillery of the clouds," who once, Himself, tabernacled on Sinai's summit, and Some Amusing Experiences. 47 fringed the cloud-curtains of His pavilion with the forked lightning, I made my first effort at pastoral conversation. I was the child and humble ambassador of the great First Cause of this, His magnificent handiwork. Must I not speak of His " tender mercies and loving- kindnesses?" The effort was difficult, yet in some measure, at Jeast, it was accomplished. " How thankful," I said, "Brother Thaxton, we should be for the inestimable blessings our Father bestows ! uj^on us and yet we often pass them by unnoticed. We have, this morning, an unclouded sky, and a bright, beautiful Sab- bath. It seems that God has made special provisions for his children to-day, not only giv- ing them a beautiful day in which to attend upon his worship, but so far as we are con- cerned, at least, he has crowned us with health of body and peace of mind. I hope you enjoy religion and cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving, Brother Thaxton." Such was my first effort at speaking, pri- vately, a word for my Master's cause; and I shall never forget what a trial my risibilities 48 The Girl in Checks. sustained when I turned away from the spout and confronted my host. There he stood, the very impersonation of surprise. The long, coarse towel, with which I was to dry my face, was thrown across his shoulder, his hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers, his eyes were dilated, and his lips were slightly parted with large wonder; and as I reached forth and drew the towel from his shoulder he began his reply: " Sakes alive! I thought you were a-preach- in' ; why, you didn't think I an't got religion, did you? Yes, sir, I come through just twen- ty-two years ago, if I'm spared to see the 16th day of July comin'. I come through just about sundown at Bald Knob Camp-meetin'. I tell you what! preachers could preach in them days. They knowed the Scriptur' same as I know my name. I wa'n't a member of the Church then, an' as I had laid by my crap, an* had nothin' to do, think's I, I'll go down to the meetin' mostly for to see an' be seed. But, I tell you, I soon seed I was lost accordin' to what the Scriptur' said, an' somehow or some- Some Amusing Experiences. 49 how else I felt powerful pestered. I don't think I ever sperienced such botherment in my life, beca'se I knowed I hadn't been a-livin' right. So I just hauled down my colors, an' give right up, beca'se I seed 'tw^a'n't no use to fight ag'in' the Almighty. An' I han't made no spirits since, nor drunk none nuther; an' it's kept me out'n a sight o' trouble, too, as shear's Betsy's my partner for life. 'Tan't no news to me that I had ought to be thankful, as you say, for don't the Scriptur' say : ' The way of the transgressor is hard? I do not know wdiat practical application this rough, though pure-hearted mountaineer, would have made of this scriptural quotation; for just as he uttered it we heard the clatter of horses' feet rapidly descending the mountain. Anon there swept by the humble dwelling a company of United States revenue officials, bearing along with them two men, who were evidently citizens. My host shaded hife eyes wath his hand to protect them from the dazzling rays of the sun, as he looked after the flying horsemen, 50 TJie Girl in Checks. and continued: "Yes, 'tan't no use in trying to get 'round Scriptur'. ' The way of the trans- gressor is hard.' There goes Billy Jones and Mike Green, an' I tole the boys no longer'n night afore las' that 'em fellers would make a raid on 'em. Poor boys, I feel sorry for 'em, but 'tan't no use a-bein' sorry for folks that won't have no pity on theirselves, an' won't take no advice." There was a vein of practical philosophy in this ignorant man's observations. But most of all I could not doubt the genuineness of his conversion, and the thoroughness of his Chris- tianity. He was evidently a big-hearted, whole- souled Christian man, but his generosity must be shown in his own crxide way. And such characters are indeed the world's greatest ben- efactors. He w^as one of that class of individ- uals we occasionally meet who never tire of talk- , ing, and who have the rare facility of passing from one subject to another without any break whatever in the conversation. We always list- en to such men, whether they are men of at- tainments or otherwise. ProAadence seems to Some Amusing Exper'iences. 51 favor them b}' always e^'olving for them just the incidents and occurrences suited to their linguistic talents. While others are thinking what to say, their tongues run unceasingly on, and they have the rare facility of appropri- ating whatever comes along. I cannot even guess where this good man's experiences and observations would have ended. He had got- ten from his conversion at Bald Knob Camp- ground to illicit whisky-making, and was rap- idly moving on toward the United States prison, when my hostess summarily broke the line of conversation by announcing breakfast. I sat opposite Louise at the breakfast-table, hence I had a better opportunity of studying her physiognomy. There was not the slight- est resemblance in her facial features to either Tom or Betsy Thaxton. Neither was there an utterance of her tongue which bordered on the provincialisms and the cracker dialect of the other two inmates of that home. This vivid contrast caused me to break through all con- ventionalities in the fruitless endeavor to as- certain the cause of this marked difference 52 The Girl in Checks. between the parents and the child. I there- fore unceremoniously asked: " Where were you educated, Miss Louise? " She blushingly met my gaze, and replied with becoming diffidence: "I have never been so fortunate, sir. We are destitute of schools here. My mother, however, taught me to read, and instructed me in the rudiments of our language." Alas! my first question elicited an answer that thrilled my being with another problem, while it brought forth no light relative to tho one I desired to solve. Could it be that Tom Thaxton had been twice married? One thing, how^ever, was evident: Betsy Thaxton was not the mother of Louise. But what course must I adopt? Shall I violate the law of propriety, to say the least, and interrogate the inmates of this mysterious home about matters that in no- wise concern me? Surely I could not so far forget every sense of propriety. Hence I de- termined to change my tactics. My very in- stinct, as it w^ere, taught me that honest Tom Thaxton had no secrets. I determined, there- Some Am using Experiences. 53 fore, not to educe the knowledge which I so much desired from him by questioning him directly about his own private family matters. I resolved to cultivate the grace of patience, and to adroitly turn, from time to time, Tom Thaxton's conversation into certain channels, knowing that these plain mountaineers talk almost exclusively of what they have at some time observed or experienced. In a word, I concluded to let him do that work which he was so willing to perform, and for which nat- nre had so admirably fitted him — talk about every thing he had seen, heard, or felt — hop- ing that by so doing he would let fall some clew to the mystery in his own household. I therefore addressed him relative to the party of United States ofiicials that had just passed his dwelling. " Did you know that fine-look- ing officer who rode in front of the party ? " I asked. "O yes," he replied; "that was Eugene Dudevant." AVhen my host uttered the name of the of- ficer the color rose into Louise's face. Why 54 The Girl in Checks. should her cheeks assume a crimson hue at the mention of the name of a United States rev- enue official? Had he wronged her in any way, or Avas he any thing to her? Surely I thought that all the mysteries that would ever confront me were destined to be crowded into my short stay at Tom Thaxton's. My host kept on, however, ignorant of the reverie into which Louise's crimson face had plunged me. " He's a wild one, too — no more af eard of bullets than I am of Betsy. But they always leave these parts like a greased streak of light- nin', when they have made a raid, beca'se it wouldn't be safe for 'em to stay. Listen at them horns! There'll be blood shed, I'm afeard." The range of mountains round about us seemed to be alive with hunters, who blew one prolonged blast. I shall never forget the im- pression that the sound of those horns made upon me as it echoed and reverberated through the coves and over the lofty peaks of those towering crags. *' What does it mean? " I con- vulsively asked. Some Amusing Experiences. 55 " It's the people a-givin' warnin' that there's been a raid," answered my host. Ah! I understood. Sound travels faster than horsemen. It was a call to the rescue. A few minutes later we heard in the distance rapid firing. It was down the valley, in the direction the little company of officers had gone. " I told you somebody was goin' to be hurt," ejaculated my host. " Some one will be killed thess as shoar as Betsy's my boss." TThen the gunshots ceased there also died away the last lingering echoes of the blast of a dozen hunters' horns. There was again a perfect calm, broken only by Tom Thaxton's tongue. " Well, some folks 'lows there han't no here- after, but it Stan's to reason in my mind that there'll have to be a hereafter to straighten out all the crooked things that turn up down here. Just beca'se folks won't do right all this breakin' o' the Sabbath and sufi'erin' is brought on; yes, sir, the Scriptur' is mighty true when it says: *The way of the transgressor is hard.' 56 The Girl in Checks. An' it Stan's to reason, accordin' to that Script- ur', that if we do right, our way an't goin' to be hard. Folks bring most of their trouble on theirselves." Such, in part, were Tom Thaxton's com- ments on the occurrence that had evidently thrilled the entire community with great ex- citement. But that occurrence, sad as it proved to be, nor any thing else seemed destined to break away the clouds of mystery that had enveloped that humble cabin. " Well, let the dead bury their dead," said he, "tan't no bus- iness of oifr7i to be lookin' after violators o' the Sabbath, an' the laws o' the land, too. We must be a-ridin' toward the ' Flat.' " Our little company of four were soon in the saddle, and the mysterious little cabin was robbed for awhile of its inmates, but so far it had yielded up .none of the mysteries that en- shrouded it like a thick cloud. ©f^APT'^^l^ ^' FLAT ROCK CHURCH AND THE CONGREGATION. AS we rode away from the little cabin perched upon the mountain-side I cher- ished the hope that either on our way to the Flat, as the j)eople called it, or at the church itself, something would occur or be said which would reveal, in some measure at least, the cause of the mysterious existence of Louise Thaxton. But alas! I was disappointed. The problem was not solved, but became more problematic. The little log meeting-house had taken its name from a large, flat rock, which covered an area of at least one acre. The surface of the rock was about one foot above the level of the ground, and was remarkably oven. The north- east corner of the crude building rested upon this rock, and while the other three corners were supi^orted by blocks of undressed stone, it was evident that these crude j^illars rested (57) 58 The Girl in Checks. upon the same large flat rock, the earth that hid it from view being only a few inches in depth. So this little mountain chapel was in reality a "house founded upon a rock," and such was the first impression that came to one the moment he beheld it. The building was constructed of round logs. Its dimensions were about eighteen by twenty feet. The crevices between the logs amply ventilated the building. The seats were made of split chest- nut slabs, into which holes had been bored and legs inserted. These rough stools were back- less. The building was not ceiled, and as for ctoves, they were an unknown article in that reigon. A blazing fire, however, of pine logs had been kindled in the yard. Such is a true picture of Flat Eock Church. The congregation was large. Evidently the "new preacher" had not drawn together this immense crowd. There was another cause. Their community had been invaded by reve- nue officers, two of their citizens had been ar- rested, shooting had been heard, somebody may have been killed, and the church was the Flat Rock Church and the Congregation. 59 best place to get all the news from every quar- ter; therefore the entire community came to- gether at the church. The congregation was in a high state of excitement. Knots of men had come together in the sun- ny j)laces all over the church-yard. Their blue jeans home-spun suits, cut, I almost af- firmed, in ancient and modern styles, at least approximating every style and rivaling no one of them, and set with all kinds of buttons, from the bright bronze military button that had been worn by some soldier through the last great civil struggle between the States down to the large, old-fashioned and now quite obsolete agate button that had evidently be- longed to Revolutionary sires, and which had been carefully preserved, not as relics, but purely from a spirit of economy, and handed down from fathei* to son through all those in- tervening years. Rollicking maidens, arm in arm, continually paced the pathway that led from the church to the spring. Dresses of all shades and various styles adorned their persons, as to shade, par- 60 The Girl iu Checks. ticularly red, green, and yellow. Each maid was, apparently, either listening to or pouring some important secret into the ears of her comi)anion. The matronly women had gathered into a group near the fire of pine-logs, and, with pipes in full blast, and true to their sex, they all talked at the same time — a feat, by the way, which the sterner sex has never been able to accomplish, owing to his inability to do two things at the same time. Every one of them seemed to be intensely interested in one lead- ing theme. Doubtless it was the capture by the revenue force of the illicit distillery, and the correlations of that fact. The young men had gathered together in the sunshine upon the surface of the large, flat rock. They were listening with great interest to one of their number, who seemed all the while to have the undisputed right of the floor, or rather of the rock. A bit of flaming red ribbon w'as tied in the button-hole of his blue jeans coat, a sprig of cedar, plume-like, was tucked under his hat-band, while he gestic- Flat Rock Church and the Congregation. 6'1 iilated with a fantastically carved walking- cane. He was evidently a leading character among the young hopefuls of Flat Kock com- munity. A dozen very old men had separated them- selves from the groups which I have men- tioned, and were sitting with bowed heads upon the rail pens that were built over the graves of the departed. They seemed to be wholly unconcerned about the great subject that appeared to be claiming the attention of everybody else. They were perhaps thinking and speaking to each other in undertones of the vanities of the present age, of the excel- lences of by-gone days, and, perhaps, as aged people are wont to do, of the last resting-place that awaited their frail and aged bodies some- where near the spot where they then- sat. Such is a bird's-eye view of the state of the congregation at the Flat when we reached that point. Surely something more than we knew of had happened, for the excitement seemed to be intense. We had alighted and made fast our steeds when we were approached by a man 62 TJie Girl in Checks. who came from one of the little knots of indi- viduals that had gathered in the church-yard, and who informed us that Eugene Dudevant had been killed that morning while he was conveying his two piisoners to the county jail. I looked into the face of Louise. She stood transfixed to the spot, and was as pale as de::th; but by a powerful effort of the will she re- strained her feelings and moved away toward the church, while Tom Thaxton ejaculated what seemed to be his favorite expression: "Well, the Scriptur' says: 'The way of the transgressor is hard.' " It was eleven o'clock, the hour for preach- ing. The congregation was nervous and ex- cited. The preacher was in the unmerciful meshes of bewilderment, and I doubt verv much, as well as these mountaineers like to discuss the merits of a sermon, if the sermon of that day ever went through the mill of crude disputation. It was a relief to me when I again threw myself into the saddle and rode a dozen miles away, and farther into the im- mense piles of earth and rock that constitute Flat Bock Church and the Co)ifjrefjation. Go the far-famed Blue Eidge Mountains, to meet my afternoon appointment at Chestnut Plains. I preached to the little assembly that after- noon as best I could, and then rode away to the county seat, where I slept soundly, and dreamed over the " Mystery of the Mountain Cabin" and its mj^sterious inmate, the "Girl in Checks." ©HAFT£i^ Ui. EUGENE DUDEVANT. ISAAY Eugene Dndevant but once. There was something attractive about his person. He was riding with all the grace and exqui- site horsemanship of a gallant cavalier. But alas! it was a ride into the very jaws of death. His office was an unpopular' one. These mountaineers looked upon distilling as an in- alienable right, or at least many of them did. It was the quickest and easiest way by which they corJd turn the scanty ]3roduce of their soil into money. They could not understand why the Government sought to monopolize, in a degree, the whisky trade and its manufact- ure. If it was just and legal, in the ethical sense of these terms, for the Government to grant a right, backed and supported by its power, in consideration of a stipulated sum of money paid to it, to certain individuals to pro- duce and sell whisky, did not that very act (64) Euge)ie Diidevcoif. 65 upon the part of the Government go to estab- lish that there was a positive necessity for the production of spirits. If such were the case, did the Government have the right to dis- criminate against any section of the countr}^, so far as the production of whisky was in- volved? These mountaineers therefore claimed that the license system discriminated, virtually, against them, because, they maintained, they were poor and isolated and could not, there- fore, meet the requirements of the Govern- ment. Furthermore, the}^ argued that if whis- ky was a necessity to men, it was as much so to them as to others ; and therefore they claimed, since it was impossible for them to meet the demands of the Government in this matter, or to procure the article otherwise than by man- ufacture, it was their inalienable right to make whisky in spite of the Government. Secondly, they claimed that, if whisky was not a necessity, and if its production was a wrong and a misdemeanor which ought to be punished and suppressed by the laws of the (56 The Girl in Checks. land, then the payment o£ license could not possibly make it a less misdemeanor or ob- literate its criminality ; " therefore," they said, "we have as mnch right, intrinsically speaking, to do wrong as has the Govern- ment." And, indeed, is not the Government as deep in the scale of criminality as any illicit distil- lery hid away in the dark coves of the Blue Eidge Mountains? Is not the sale of license on the part of the Government a virtual ad- mission of the crime of making and selling in- toxicants? And is not the principle involved precisely the same as that abominable usage and doctrine of Roman Catholicism whereby that priest-ridden Church sells her indul- gences ? The writer has often sat by the firesides of these plain mountaineers, and listened to these arguments. Who will say that they are not logical, and based upon the strictest principles of justice? How can the Government itself answer these arguments, save by the fiat of its laws ? Indeed, there is but one answer to their Eugene Dudevant. 67 crude but logical appeals, and that is univer- sal prohibition; for no Government has a right to do, either directly or indirectly, that which it prevents its subjects from doing. For what indeed would the principle upon which the license system is based lead to, were it applied to morals and ethics generally ? I have introduced these thoughts here to show why the office which Eugene Dudevant held was unpopular. Its insufferable nature did not spring so much from incorrigible dis- loyalty to the Government on the part of the violators as from the injustice which they saw in the laws which restrained and i^rohib- ited them from doing that which the Govern- ment itself did indirectly by its license sys- tem. Eugene Dudevant, holding his commission from the Government, rushed into the midst of these towering mountains, sought the con- cealed distilleries among the craggy peaks, apprehended the transgressors, and they killed him. Physically speaking, he was a noble speci- G8 TJie Girl in Checks. men of Southern manhood — tall, handsome, genteel-looking — a veritable Carolinian in ev- ery aspect of his bearing. It was doubly sad that so noble-looking a man should have been slaughtered in so igno- minious a manner. He was shot down with- out a moment's warning. The shrill, pro- longed blast of a dozen horns, and then came the bullet from the gun of the assassin, as he lay concealed in the bush by the road-side. How in its unsuspected phase like the last trump that shall sound the death-knell of time! Without a moment even for a last prayer he was called away from earth. The charge was well aimed, it went straight to the heart, and the gallant rider reeled from his saddle a corpse. Though he had for several vears lived a lewd fellow "of the baser sort," he was not a plebe- ian. The best blood of the State coursed through his veins, for he was the son of a wealthy, aristocratic rice - planter. He had been reared amid the most exquisite luxury that wealth could afford. He was educated at Eugene Diidevanf, 69 tlie best schools of Euroi:)e, and, notwithstand- ing the degraded life he was leading, his re- finement and ch'fe bearing were not comx^letely annihilated. But alas! as is too often the case, one all-important element had been ig- nored in his rearing — a strict attention to his moral development. One of the saddest blots npon the images of the history of the death-struggles of the " Old South, "were it written, would be the downfall and utter ruin of many of Carolina's noble sons, whose families, x^rior to the throes of re- construction, stood pre-eminent in the State, both in political and social circles. One of the foulest blots upon the pages of her other- wise bright escutcheon is not that of the in- stitution of slavery (for that the South has made ample defense), but the great fact that among certain classes position and wealth took the place, to a great degree, of morality and religion — that is, the tendency of ante helium institutions in the South was toward the formation of castes as inflexible and iron- bound as those of heathen India. Men were 70 The Girl in Checks. beginning to be honored because they were of certain distinguished families, and not because of their inherent worth. AVhen the reaction came many fell. They could not adjust them- selves to the new order of things, and there- fore only the fittest of them survived the won- derful revolution. To that class which failed to stand the shock of the awful disruption Eugene Dudevant be- longed. In all his training he failed to at- tain that degree of moral culture and worth necessary to support him in the trials incident to this life, to guide and protect him amid the throes, shocks, and struggles through which his native State was called to pass. The final result was but the legitimate effect of a cause deeply imbedded in the very atmos- phere of his boyhood days. Hence the proud patrician dies away from friends and home, a martyr to no cause, but a devotee at the shrine of prodigality and sensualism. The bullet that sent him to his long home came from a gun in the hands of one of his own country- men and a plebeian. Euge}ie Dudevant, 71 Such tlioiiglits crowd tliemselves into my mind as I record the revelations of the mount- ain cabin, and the reader, ere he completes these pages, will adjudge them right. I watched the casket that contained Dude- vant's manly form, as the pall-bearers, a lewd, debased crowd to be sure, placed it upon the train, and sent it to the old homestead in the lower part of the State, to be interred in the old Dudevant family grave-yard. The most appropriate epitaph, were sincer- ity and truth always practiced in such things, would be this superscription upon the tomb: " The Stroke of a Father's Hand." ©]^/\f>'V^^ UII. BURIAL OF EUGENE DUDEVANT, AND A LOOK INTO THE OLD HOMESTEAD. THE writer stood at tlie window of his room on tlie day following that on which Eugene Dndevant was killed, and beheld the corpse pass throngh the street of the little vil- lage to the depot, whence it was sent to the old family burying-ground for interment. No train of sorrowing relatives and friends fol- lowed the corpse. It was a sad scene on that account. But follow that body to its destination, to that place of sepulture which already bristles with artistically carved shafts and columns that mark the resting-places of six generations of the Dudevants ; walk among the silent tombs, read the epitaphs, and learn how honorable in State and in society many of these were who now sleep in the dust; mark the lavish expenditure of means on this one silent spot; walk among the stately mag- (72) Burial of Eugene Dudecanf. 73 nolias and tlie beautiful evergreens; mark the steel railings inclosing the sacred spot, and covered with the thorn-armored hedge-rose — and these things will speak in words that you cannot misinterpret, telling you eloquently that the Dudevants once revered the memory of their dead and spared no expense to embel- lish and beautify their last resting-place. But see that little party of revenue officials as they lower their comrade into the grave. There is not a tear-stained cheek there. Their faces are flushed, but not from grief. They hastily let the corpse down into the grave, and as hastily fill it up, and then they drive two stakes into the ground, one to mark the foot and the other the head of the grave. There is no minister present to utter the solemn committal, "dust to dust, ashes to ashes, earth to earth." There is no "word of comfort," no hjmm floating out in soft, measured tones uj^on the still evening air. Shall I characterize it as worse than a heathen burial? Even they reverence their gods at such times. The work is finished, and these lewd fellows, as they 74 The Girl in Checks. stand about the grave, pass around the de- canter of captured contraband whisky, and drink to the memory of their departed col- league. Alas for depraved humanity! The devil officiates at a burying. The scene is sickening; turn away from it, and walk out of this richly decorated inclosure, this sacred spot in which the arch-fiend now holds high carnival among the base associates of the murdered man, and look over the broad acres of the Dudevant homestead, with its extensive rice-fields and unrivaled cotton-lands, dotted over with little villages of well-painted, cozy little cottages, the homes of the slaves who once tilled the broad fields before you. But behold how the destroyer has already defaced these fertile fields. Neglect and decay is writ- ten on every object. Turn from this fascinating scene, even so while under the merciless hand of decay, and wend your way up the long avenue of live-oaks to the old Dudevant homestead dwelling. Look upon its superb stateliness, walk up the flight of marble steps and pull the door-bell; Burial of Eugene Dndevcoit. 75 ask Marm Phyllis, bowing already under the weight of threescore and ten years, to show yoii through the interior of the magnificent dwellino-. Once within yon are enchanted and enraptured. Every thing is truly superb. Magnificent and richly carved furniture, a rare library collected at great expense and se- lected with the greatest care. Rare works of art hang from the frescoed walls, and every thing goes, unmistakably, to show that wealth and refinement were once the supreme rulers of this home. As you look upon this beautiful home, you in- tuitively ask yourself this question: " How did Eugene Dudevant come to leave all this mag- nificence and grandeur, for it was his home, and die a violent and untimely death in a mountain cove of Western South Carolina, a debased revenue officer ? " The solution of the problem is easy: Louis Dudevant had but two children, Eugene and Estelle. There was but two years' difference in their ages, and Estelle was the elder of the twain. She exerted a great and good influ- 76 The Girl in Checks. ence over Eugene as tliey were growing up. Every care and sorrow were curtained off from tliem, and they were as liappy as mortals can well be in this world. Eugene was attentive and devoted to his sister. If "The Oaks" (for that was the name by which the homestead was known far and near ) was a pleasant place, it was made so by these happy children. They were bred to aristoc- racy. They were taught to be proud of their blood. From earliest infancy they had been led to believe that the social position of the Dudevant family for ages past, as well as their property, differentiated them from the masses of humanity. Therefore these children had gathered around them as their associates the wealthiest, the most intelligent, as well as the most refined and elite people that the old Pal- metto State could afford. " The Gaks " was universally known as a jolly place. Many a satin-robed belle's slippered feet have, with measured step, many a time kept pace with the sweet cadences of the mellow-toned violin in these spacious but now silent halls. Costliest Burial of Eugene DudevanL 77 wines and brandies were once sipped at these boards by el'itest belles and beans, and many a time produced that artificial good cheer which once made these frescoed walls echo with the merry laughter of jolly visitors. But " The Oaks," after all, was not an attract- ive i3lace simply because nature had lavished upon it scenery so fascinating and resplend- ent. Neither was it a happy home because art and wealth had contributed so much to its beauty and magnificence. All of these things combined did not make the place home. The majestic, silently sweeping Pee Dee that almost encircled the grand old building, the far-famed and sweet-scented magnolias, the stately live-oaks draped in the long, weird- looking moss swaying back and forth in the slightest breeze, and the magnificent dwelling surrounded by the little villages of tenement houses, orchards of semi-tropical fruits and gardens of ever-blooming flowers, made "The Oaks " an enchanting spot, just as there are many such places in this semi-tropical clime. It was not all of these things combined that 78 The Girl in CJiecks. drew to " The Oaks " the crowds of merry visit- ors. Nor did these things make home a pleas- ant place for Eugene and Estelle; for all of these things yet remain, and the old mansion is as silent as tiie tomb. No merry crowds of visitors have crossed its threshold in twenty long years. Homes and places, to make them attractive, mnst have souls, and the souls of places are as easily corrupted as are those of men. Homes die like men. There are diseases and calamities just as fatal to them as they are to uSj who are "so wonderfully and fearfully made." One of these maladies, so fatal in their results, had fastened its deathly, poison- ous fang into the grand old mansion at " The Oaks," and the once merry home had yielded up the ghost. Louis Dudevant's kind and sweet-spirited wife died long years ago, but the gentle, amia- ble Estelle inherited her virtues and therefore filled that otherwise irreparable gap, and it was home, sweet home still to Eugene. Years rolled on, and smoothly flowed the Burial of Eugene Dudevcint. 79 current of liome life. But there came at last a terrific shock that caused that home to vi- brate from center to circumference. The chilly hancT of death was laid \\\)o\\ the life of that home. Louis Dudevant, it is necessary to state, was stern, unyielding, and uncompromisingly proud. In a fit of anger he had virtually driven his only daughter from her paternal roof. It was indeed a sad stroke; for how can home exist without wife, sister, or daugh- ter? Without the cheering presence of these ministering angels home must die. After this sad event, vdiich we shall explain in its i3roper place, stern old Louis Dudevant and Eugene remained at the old homestead, but alas ! all of its attractions were gone. The hand of death was daily tightening its grip on "The Oaks," and the once jolly place is doomed erelong to lie cold in death. O the dead homes that live only in the memory of their once happy inmates! Such homes come up vividly in the minds of many a man and many a woman who have j^assed 80 The Girl in Checks, the meridian of life. AVhere now are tlie hap- py homes of our childhood's innocent years? They live with many of ns oidy on memory's page. But the death of the home at " The Oaks " was sadder than usual, because it was a mur- dered home. Louis Dudevant killed it. That dark day when Estelle stepped out from under the shadow of the stately mansion, under the frown of her own father, was its death-stroke. Ten years from that event Louis Dudevant had been laid away in yonder beautiful ceme- tery to await the final judgment. He had witnessed the great struggle between the States; he had, in common with other South- erners, experienced largely its bitter results, and just as the black clouds of civil war were being swept from the horizon, he had fixed all of his property on Eugene, and a few years afterward went the way of all the world. It is almost needless to say that " The Oaks " was no longer home for Eugene. Ten long years he had been haunted by the former as- sociations of his sw^eet-spirited sister, but the^ Burial of Eugene Dudevant, 81 blood-poison (can I call the proud, aristocrat- ic spirit which had been bred in him by a bet- ter name?) which had taken fast hold npon him, together with the bitter feelings he had imbibed from intimate association with his father during those ten years that they had lived alone at " The Oaks," had caused him to heap undying curses upon the head of that lovely, unprotected sister who had once made home so attractive. The reaction of his bitter spirit rebounded upon his devoted head at his father's death. He became restless, he longed for some power to break off from his bitter soul the tormenting pangs that had fastened themselves thereto. He was indeed homeless with all the possessions that had been heaped upon him. Here, then, is the solution of the problem. This explains why Eugene Dude- vant fell on that beautiful Sabbath morning in a mountain cove, pierced to the heart by a bullet from an assassin's gun. Ah! there are indeed murderers who have accomplished their fearful work long after their bodies have been committed to the tomb. 6 82 The Girl in Checks. Such a murderer was Louis Dudevant, a post- humons murderer, and that too of his own chidren. Plain Tom Thaxton was indeed right when he said, in substance at least, that there must be a court hereafter to try the crimes and avenge outraged justice in such cases as these which the courts of this world can never reach. These facts I have anticipated in this frag- ment of sectional history, for the sake of mak- ing plain my story. The dead, as we shall see by and by, sometimes speak, and in so doing unlock many mysteries. ©HAPTEt^ Uiii. A VISIT INTO THE REGION BEYOND. IT is a fact known to those who have traveled in the Bhie Kiclge Mountains that the peo- ple always tell yon of certain customs prevail- ing farther up in the mountain wilds. They frequently speak of these customs as " the way people do up in the mountains," thus mak- ing the inexperienced traveler feel that he is ever approaching, yet never able to reach, that point in " the land of the sky " where he may safely say that he has been into the mountains proper. My afternoon appointment on the first Sun- day in February was at Chestnut Plains, ten miles from the Flat. The direction from the above-named point was north-westerly, thus carrying me still farther into the mountains. The log meeting-house was constructed very much on the same plan as the building at Flat Kock. It was located on a level plateau of (83) 84 The Girl in Checks. table-land, covered with a grove of cliestiint- oaks, and closely shut in by frowning mount- ains on every side. North-west of the church the scene was truly inspiring. Beginning about fifty yards from the door of the little building, where a great peak arose abruptly and semi-perpendicularly from this level spot, there mounted up peak upon peak, mountain upon mountain, until finally the tops of the distant spurs seemed to fade away from mortal vision, having hid their heads in the deej) blue sky. I reached the church on that long to be re- membered Sabbath in February, 1880, awhile before time for service, and I stood in the church-yard and Avatched the assembling of the congregation. Many came from the north- west, yet from the level plateau upon which the church was built that portion of the coun- try seemed to me to be wholly inaccessible. Looking from the church-yard uj^on those al- most cloud-crowned, broken masses of earth and rock, one would be slow to believe that even the agile deer could make its way over those A Visit into the Begion Beyond. 85 stupendous granite-girt mountains. But every one who has traveled in " the land of the sky " knows that mountains are like the troubles and difficulties that loom up before us in the rugged jDathway of life — they frequently van- ish when we reach them. This towering, broken, precii:>itous country was inhabited. There were many winding, rocky roads, coiling themselves, Laocoon-like, about those huge peaks. I had on a former occasion attentively stood within the little church-yard at this place, and, while the congregation was gathering, had watched with much interest the dehid of aged mountaineers, tottering along with staff in palsied hand, as well as flaxen-haired, fair- skinned, blue-eyed young men and buxom mountain maidens, mounted upon their little wiry ponies, from this apparently inaccessible quarter. As they came into view at the edge of the little clearing which constituted the hitching-fjyound, the impression always made upon me by their sudden advent was that of some shagg}' monster disgorging his prey, for 86 The Girl in Checks. they seemed to come out of the solid mass of earth itself. The high^yay at the point where they came into sight was arched over by the thick foliage, or limbs rather of the giant oaks on either side of the road, and resembled the mouth of a great cave leading down into the bowels of the earth. But on this the oc- casion of my second visit I watched the dis- gorgement with keener interest than a^t my first, for at my last appointment at that place I had promised a long, lean, cadaverous - looking mountaineer that on my return to that point I would spend the night with him. He was from that, to me, hitherto unexplored region. On the occasion of my first visit I had been at- tracted by the awkward and ridiculous manner of his advent from the mouth of this imagina- ry monster. There was something truly ludi- crous about it. The pony which he rode was small. It moved alons: with a kind of douUe shuffle step, and seemed rather to twist itself along than to walk with that free and easy motion common to the horse. All of its mo- tive power seemed to be pent up in its shaggy A Visit info the Begion Beyond. 87 little tail, wliicli was never at rest. Its spiral motion seemed to act as a propelling force npon the beast's body. The feet of the rider were only a few inches from the ground. The picture produced was that of a large boy rid- ing a goat. The rider always carried a regu- lar undertaker's look on his face. This solemn demeanor and correspondingly austere and sorrowful deportment observable in every moveuient and look of this denizen of the hills m.ade a rich setting to the scene which I am trying to describe. As the pony moved for- ward the rider seemed to proceed one side at a time. One side went forward with a quick, spas- modic jerk, and came to a complete stop; when another spiral motion of the pony's tail im- parted the necessary force, and the other side was likewise carried forward to its stopj^ing- place. In this amusing manner the pony and its rider made remarkable speed. The reader can readily imagine what a ridiculous picture all of these things combined produced. As I stood watching the egress of these den- izens of the " everlasting hills " on that mem- 88 The Girl in Checks. orable afternoon my eyes at last caught sight of my promised host. The propeller had lost none of its activity since I beheld the twain at my last visit, but the undertaker' s look had ap- parently grown a shade sadder, which perhaps was the natural outgrowth of the thovight that a preacher would soon be a guest at his se- cluded mountain home. So I would indeed have the pleasure and privilege of traversing the regions beyond. I confess to no little degree of excitement and curious expectancy at the thought of being swallowed up by the frowning mountains, which I have already described. ^^ The sermon was concluded, and we took the road leading to the home of my host. It was to me a long, lonesome ride, notwithstanding the scenery w^as magnificently grand, frequent- ly challenging all efPort at description. We w^ound around mountains, crossed over lofty spurs, descended into dark ravines, and trav- ersed beautiful valleys; yet I felt depressed during the entire journey. This feeling of de- pression may have arisen from several causes A Visit into the Eeyion Beyond. 89 • — tlie reaction of the nervous system after preaching; the warm, hazy, unseasonable weather for February; the sad visage and dif- fidence of my comj^anion; oi-the thought that possibly I was being siralloired by the imag- inary monster which I had pictured to myself as disgorging its prey at the little chapel. Any one of these causes, or all of them com- bined, may have produced the melancholy feelings that depressed my soul during that long, tedious journey. But these gloomy spirits were destined to an early grave. We at last reined up our steeds in front of Abe Grimshaw's house — for this was the name of my host — and the tidy and inviting appearance of things was evi- dence that this would be a pleasant place to rest, and such I found it to be by many actual experiences. The house was a double cabin, overgrown vrith vines. The large logs from which it was constructed, where exposed on the outside of the building, were covered with moss, indicating that it was a very old build- ing. The present occuj^ant had inherited it 90 The Old in Checks, from his father, who built it while the wigv warns of the Cherokees dotted the valleys of the Eastatoe and Oolenoi, and the red man sought undisturbed his game upon the beau- tiful banks of the Keeowee. It nestled down in one of those beautiful coves so frequently met with by the traveler who dares to traverse the far-famed Blue Eidge. It seemed to be endeavoring to hide itself away from the rest of the world, and verily it had succeeded. For quite a century the old building had been hemmed in by the lofty spurs of the Blue Hiclge. The busy world was unconscious of its existence, and the inmates of that lonely home had known little during all that space of time of the affairs of the world, or even of the State in which their home was located. Primitive customs, primitive furnitui^e, primitive everij fJihir/, prevailed here. There upon the bare walls hung the old-fashioned dinner-horn that had summoned a past as well as a present generation to many an old-fash- ioned dinner. Upon the antlers of a buck hung the old-time fltjit and steel rifle that had A Vii>(t into the lie(jio)i Beijo)id. 91 served perhaps four or five generations. It was brouglit from the Highlands of Scotland by an ancestor of the j)resent occupant of this secluded home. Every thing wore an air of antiquity, even to the pewter basin in whi-cli the family bathed their hands and faces. Amid such scenes as these my melancholy spirits fled away, and I felt as though I had been transported to one of the mediseval homes of the Highlands of Scotland. Dinner was announced. The crude earth- enware, the wooden spoons and bowls, and the large gourd that contained the milk and which took the place of a pitcher, together with many such things, pointed to an age that has long since passed away. Such was the home of Abe Grimshaw. To one reared out from under the shadow of these mountains such articles of furniture were rare indeed, and spoke eloquently of The days of auld lang syne. There are many such homes in "the land of the sky," where the grating noise of cards that comb the fleece of the mountain sheep 92 The Girl in Checks. into rolls for tlie spinner's liand may yet greet the ear; where the lonesome hum of the spin- ning-wheel of long ago and the dull thump, thump, of the massive loom of our great- grandmothers are still heard. What interest could we justly expect these isolated mountaineers to take in any of the great national issues of the day? It makes very little difference with them as to who is President of the United States, or even as to who is Governor of their own State. The great phosphate interests, so long a bone of contention in their native State, as well as the contest between State and denominational schools; the historic and eventful days of 1876, together with all the throes incident to the new birth of an oppressed and once down- trodden State — all these things combined have no charms for them. They are an independent class of citizens, as incapable of grasping great national issues, of recognizing the justice and equity of State or United States laws when conflicting with what thej^ conceive to be their inalienable rights, of aj^i^reciating the general A Visit into the Beg ion Beyond, 93 benefit of a common government, as their soil is of producing the fleecy staple of their na- tive State. So mnch I learned during my visit to Abe Grimshaw's. When our conversation, by mer- est accident, turned upon the great struggle be- tween the States my sad-faced host remarked: "We uns never font on nary side; 'cause 'twa'n't nothin' to us. But it seemed like they wer' 'termined to press us in anyhow. Them ' light duty men ' done a sight o' devilment in thes eparts. They wer' afeard to fight the'r- selves, and hung around here to arrest us. There wer' a whole ridgement of 'em camped over at Tunnel Hill, an' they s' arched this country from Dan to Beersheba, pretendin' to be huntin' deserters ; an' they cotcli lots of our boys an' sent 'em off. Some of 'em had been, an' had quit an' come home, 'cause 'twa'n't no war of the'rn; an' some of 'em never had been, 'cause they didn't see no use of fightin' that-a- way. Let them that had the niggers fight. But them ' light duty men ' 'lowed that no- body didn't have no right to quit an' come 9-i The Girl in Checks. home. It was always powerful strange to me that a man couldn't quit fightin' when he wanted to. If a man wanted to qiiit an' come home for to see his wife, 'twa'n't none o' their business ; seemed monstrous mysterf yin' to me that a man couldn't take a little blowin'-spell when he got outen wind a-fightin' them yan- kees. But thev 'lowed 'twas their business. They never j)ut their han's on me, shoar's I'm named Abe. What powder I had to burn [an' powder got mighty sca'ce] I was goin' to burn it agin the deer, and not agin my f ellow-creet- ur. But they got Sam Houston. Sam had been off, an' had come back. They tuck an' tied him, an' dragged him off in the night, an' that was the las' we ev^er hearn of poor Sam Houston. Poor Miss Houston was so dis- tressed about it that the next mornin' after they tuck Sam she tuck her little baby gal, 'Cinda, thess a year ole, an' followed on after 'em, barefooted an' bareheaded. The poor creetar went as fur as Columbia, but when she got there she wer' plum beyant herself, and they tuck her up an' put her in the 'sylum, A Visit info the Region Beyond. 95 an' she died there; an' Sam was shot fur de- sertin,' I reckon — leastwise we han't hearn nothin' frum him sense. An' 'Cinda — all the chile they had — was left alone an' by herself in that big city. But some good 'oman tuck her an' brung her up to a smart-sized gal; but when 'Cinda got big ernough to think for her- self she come back to these parts, an' she is one 'o the best 'o 'omankind. Poor creetur! every time I see her I think of Miss Houston's face, as she followed after them good -fur - nuthin' 'light duty men' that tuck an' tied Sam an' dragged him off the same as if he were some wild varmint." Such, in part, was Abe Grimshaw's conver- sation. He had spoken but few words prior to this volume of sectional history, and I had come to the conclusion that my host was one of those say-nothing characters so often en- countered evervwhere. But all men, I have observed, will talk, and talk fluently, when you draw them out along the line they are accus- tomed to think. Abe Grimshaw had doubtless thought much of the sad experiences through 96 The Girl in Checks. whicli liis secluded community had passed during- the great civil struggle that shook our entire country from center to circumference. He had his own ideas of political economy and of the great principles of justice and eq- uity that should influence the actions of ev- ery subject relative to the State. They may have been narrow and crude; but how often is it the case, relative to such things, that the more learned, and even the most profound, statesmen drift, in their estimates of such , principles, to an opposite extreme! Man is constitutionall}^ pre-eminently a self- ish being not in that vulgar acceptation of the term wherein he looks to his own interest al- ways, and never thinks of the rights and im- munities of others, but in that higher sense wherein he is bound not only by the prompt- ings of his own nature, but by the truths of revelation to love, peace, and home and fam- ily, for the sake of the boon pleasures that spring therefrom. To love my home and off- spring and interest better than those of an- other is virtuous and commendable, and is A Visit into the Begion Beyond, 97 essential to tlie preservation of chastity and society. Abe Grimsliaw and Lis intimate companions liad espoused the cause of neither side. "Who will be bold enough to brand them as traitors and outlaws? " Let them that's got the nig- gers do the fightin' " may not have been a pa- triotic utterance, but when the sentiment con- f tained therein is reduced to its last analysis, it will be readily seen that it contains the ba- sis of all human action. It is the common plane upon which all individuality moves. It is true that Abe Grimshaw's ignorance was any thing else but commendable, but refusing to fight for a cause in which he conceived that he had no earthly interest was praiseworthy — at least from a divine stand-point. To have en- lightened his mind may have, doubtless would have, changed his opinions. But we are deal- ing here not in theories, but with stern reali- ties. He was inflexible in what he conceived to be his duty. May it ever be so with us! The hazy February Sabbath had closed, and now the leady hues of morning were peeping 98 The Girl in Checks. into my little room at Abe Grimsliaw's. The atmosphere was fresh and cntting, evincing one of those abru]3t changes from antumn- like weather to that of winter, so freqnent in that climate. The ground was covered with one vast sheet of snow, and I heartily realized, as I stepped from my little chamber, that the pleasant weather of the day before had been instrumental in inducing me to leave home without wraps of any kind. But later, when I threw myself into the saddle, wrapped in one of Abe Grimsliaw's home-woven bed-blankets, I was the recipient of some sound advice: " We uns have a sayin' amongst us that a wise man always takes his umberrille with hi^Q, fur any fool would think to take it when the rain is a-pourin' down." Thus ended my visit to Abe Grimsliaw's, and I rode away meditating upon the pointed advice I had received and the bits of sectional history I had heard. I had proceeded on the return trip only a few miles, however, when, to my horror, I discovered that I had lost my road. My dejected spirit on the day before A Visit info the Region Betjond. 99 had debarred me from taking that notice of the objects along the road which we passed that otherwise I would have done; besides, the snow had so covered the road and had changed the general appearance of the coun- try to such an extent that it required famil- iarity with the general topography, at least, of the country to keep the wa3\ Lost in the mountains! and that, too, in a snow-storm. I had pictured the little dwell- ing of Abe Grimshaw as Jo^t amid the tower- ing peaks, but alas! the personal reality of such a thought was by no means so pleasant. Never did a creature more earnestly desire to be disgorged into the little clearing near the little mountain chapel, of which I have al- ready spoken, than I did. But " it is an evil wind that blows no one any good:" and had I not lost my way on that occasion perhaps this bit of the biography of a deserter's daughter would never have been written, and the mount- ain cabin would, perhaps, have ever remained veiled in mystery. ©HAFT'S^ i/X. THE FIND ON THE LONELY MOUNTAIN-SIDE. Gloom is upon thy lonely hearth, O silent house I once filled with mirth; Sorrow is in the breezy sound Of thy tall cedars whispering round. IPKESSED for\Yard through the snow like a mariner without a chart or compass. A blue column of smoke shot up among the leaf- less branches of the trees to my left, and, al- though I could not see whence it came, I was fully persuaded that it issued from some dwelling. I determined to seek its shelter; for I ^yas not only lost, but I was shivering with cold. I therefore turned my horse into the pathway that led in the direction of the smoke. I was not disappointed, for I had clambered 'klong the steep mountain-side for the space of scarcely half a mile when through the heavy timber I caught a glimpse of the little cab- in whence came the smoke. It was located on the side and near the base (100) The Find on the Lonehj Mountain-side. 101 of a large mountain. Fronting the cabin was a beautiful valley of several hundred acres of arable land, through which the limpid Oolenoi made its wav like a silver thread. The valley was inestimably valuable as a corn- farm. The rich, alluvial soil, as the thickly studded stalks stripped of their foliage readily indicated, made the valley a paradise indeed for the corn-growers. Thousands of bushels must have been harvested therefrom at the last gathering-time; but, strange to say, be- sides the grain-houses that studded the out- skirts of this broad corn-field, there could be seen but one lone cabin wherein there were any evidences of life, the one of which I have just spoken, and from which came the column of blue smoke. It was built uj^on the side of the mountain, its very site impressing one with the thought that the builders must have regarded the land of the great alluvial plain too precious to be taken up by this crude structure. The cabin was a very old one. The stately cedars that bordered the yard were so ar- 102 The Girl in Checks, ranged as to leave no doubt in the mind that they were phxnted by the hand of man. The logs of the cabin were partially decayed, and the roof was overgrown with moss. An ivy sprig, planted, doubtless, by some hand that had long since ceased to act, had climbed a giant oak, covering its trunk and branch; sucking away its .very life like a vampire, by insensi- ble degrees had long since accomplished its mission of death, and now the old monarch of the forest stood shorn of all its beauty and strength. These things were unmistakable evidences of the great age of the little cabin. But as I stood before this isolated home I could not help asking myself these questions: "Where is the stock necessary to such a farm? where are the wagons, j)lows, and farm implements? wdiere are the people necessary to till it?" With this train of inquiries flashing through the mind, I knocked for admission. The call was answered by a decrepit old hag. She pre- tended to be very deaf, and when I asked the privilege of warming she feigned embarrass- Tlie Find on the Loneli/ Moioifain-side, 103 ment, such as is frequently observable in deaf people when they do not understand what is addressed to them. But a fat, red-faced, lazy- looking boy, the only inmate of the house ex- cei)t the old hag about whom we have just spoken, came to the rescue, and drawled out with a pusillanimous whine: "Uv course you uns is mor'n welcome to all the good you uns can get out'n them coals. Take er cher an' set down." AVliile he was addressing these words to the unexpected visitor he arose from his seat and carelessly placed his hand upon the low man- tel-piece, knocking therefrom, as if by acci- dent, a rusty old cow-bell, which rolled and tumbled over the floor as if it were a thing of life, and as if its mission in this world was to let people know that it possessed a clapper. The old hag shuffled toward the rolling bell and grasped it by the hook through which the girdle passes, and hastened with tottering step and palsied hand, which tested the ringing ca- pacity of the metal to its utmost degree, to re- place the noisy thing in its former position. 104. The Girl in Checks. This accomplished, she seated herself in the opposite jam of the broad fire-place, dipped an old black pipe into the embers and puffed " away, the very picture of aged ignorance, stu- pidity, and abandonment. The awkward youth kept his lazy attitude, gazing brazenly into the visitor's face while Ee propounded the following questions and many more like them: "Wher' is you uns frum? Whut is you unses business in these here parts? Has you uns been in these di^- gin's long?" 4 I tried as best I could to satisfy his curiosi- ty, and in return asked him to whom the plan- tation embracing the large valley belonged. "Mister Fox," was his ready answer. "And where does Mr. Fox live?" I asked. " Don't know, sur, but he lives a good ways frum here, beca'se when he comes up fur to tend an' gether his crap I hearn his ban's say it tuck 'em two days fur to come." "And what does he do with his corn?" I asked. " He puts it in 'em houses down thar in the TJie Find on fJie Lonely Mountain-side. 105 valley, an' sells some iiv it, and hauls some uv it away. Me an' granny stays here to look arter his things. Mister Fox is a mighty clever man, he is." During this conversation I had ample op- portunity to examine my surroundings. Two old pine bedsteads, a few stools and crude split- bottomed chairs, an old greasy table, a broken looking-glass, and a cupboard containing a few old-fashioned blue-flowered cups and plates, made up the furniture entire, with the exception of the cow-bell, the old hag's pipe, a supply of home-raised tobacco which hung in its natural state from a stick placed across the joist, the stalk having been split a jiart of its length and placed astride the stick, and a few bunches of dried boneset, life-everlasting, and other herbs, which constituted the old woman's medical supply for the winter. While surveying the apartment two things, although of very little consequence apparent- ly, impressed me. One was the problem how the few coals that smoldered upon the hearth could produce that column of blue smoke that 106 The Girl in Checls, belched with such energy from the chimney- top, but the soot may have been on fire. This was the only solution o£ the problem that I could arrive at. The other was simply this: As my eyes wandered over the apartment I saw this sentence cut with a knife into the plain, unpainted boards of the mantel-piece: "CiNDA Houston Was Born July 10th, 1862." Could it be that I was in the cabin that con- stituted, in days gone by, the happy home of the unfortunate Sam Houston? Was it he, so rudely torn from his home and dragged to a deserter's doom, who cut these rude letters chronicling the happy event of the birth of his only child? It must have been so. Truly it was a strange place as well as a strange way to record such an event. Never- theless it was in accord with many of the acts and customs of these simple-hearted, plain mountaineers. I was so impressed with the bit of personal reminiscence relative to Sam Houston that I had received from Abe Grimshaw the previ- ous night, together with these rude letters cut The Find on the Lonely Mountain'Side. 107 into the boards of tlie mantel-piece, that I asked the lubberly youth: "From whom did Mr. Fox buy this plantation, and how long has he owned it?" "Don't know, sur, but mebby granny kin tell you," was his reply. But granny was so deaf that we could make her understand nothing whatever, and I was compelled to leave the lonely cabin minus the information I so much desired. The youth, at my request, seemed overwill- ing to accompany me to the main road, and to direct me, when I parted from him about a mile from the mysterious cabin, so that I could not again miss the road. Thus I left the cabin over which was hung a veil of mystery. But to me that veil was afterward lifted, and I was permitted to look in upon things that had long remained cov- ered up to the outside world. What I saw and learned are faithfully recorded in these pages, and form a piece of sectional history which the pen of the historian has never recorded. Events none the less interesting, however, on 108 The Girl in Checks, that account, but a close study of sectional history will give the earnest inquirer after truth a keener insight into the general truths, and a heartier api:)reciation of the real state of affairs as they existed during the dark days of the Southern Confederacy, and the subsequent years of misrule and oppression. Now that the effulgent sun of the New South sheds his rays over hill-top and valley, let the rising generation imitate the virtues of their fathers, and grow wiser and better as they read in these pages a faithful portrayal of the cowardly acts and nefarious deeds of some who were unworthy of the name or the place of a Southron. ©HAFT'S^ /X. RANDAL FOX, WHO HAD NO LOVE FOR WAR. DUEING the stormy days of 1860, when the black clouds of civil war were gath- ering thick and fast, when excitement was at its highest, and the clarion blast of the call to arms was heard over the hills and through the vales of our beloved Carolina, Randal Fox, with soldierly bearing, flashy uniform, and flushed face, might have been seen organizing his company on the court-house green of his native county. Captain Fox, as he paraded his company of brave Carolinians, with their gray uniforms and palmetto buttons, up and down the prin- cipal streets of the little county seat, was in- deed a martial - looking character. As the children and ladies of the little village donned their palmetto rosettes and waved their little flags and handkerchiefs at the passing column, he indeed was a foe, could the " boys in blue " (109) 110 . The Girl in Checks. have seen him, terrible to look upon. Defi- ance and victory were written on every linea- ment of his countenance. The w^omen and children, at least, thought: "Woe be unto that part of the blue column that Eandal Fox shall strike! " And indeed he would have given the Union army no little trouble had his spirit and courage mounted to that high point in battle that was observable during these dress parades and preparatory stages. But alas! when the picket guns of the first Manassas were heard in the distance Captain Fox grew pale, his teeth chattered, and his knees smote together; and as he passed hither and thither amons: his men, unable to stand still for a sin- gle moment, he declared to his brave company that, "on account of a change of climate and sleeping out at night he had contracted chills," which he thought would wholly unfit him for the active duties of regular service. But when his company was wheeled into line of battle, and when hundreds of pieces on both sides began to belch forth death, the excited and cowardly chieftain pusillanimously bellowed Banded Fox, Who Had Xo Love/or War. Ill out: "Ritn, hojjs, for Heaven'' s sake, run; we'll every one he killed!'' But tlie boys did not run. How overjoyed, indeed, the craven cap- tain would have been had the brave company of Carolinians obeyed his orders, or rather the involuntary exclamation of a cowardly spirit! But the individuals composing tJiat company, virtuallv without a leader, were made of sterner stuff than their nominal captain. Later, however, there was given him the op- portunity which he coveted. A shell burst in front of his company, tearing up a mass of earth, but otherwise doing no damage except a minute fragment which took a bit of hide from the captain's forefinger. His screams were heard above the din of battle, and they were piteous indeed. Holding up his hand, as will a hound puppy his foot when it is hurt, he flew to the rear at a speed closely resem- bling that of a renowned trotting-horse of the present day, and with yells very much like those of the beast to which we have just com- pared him. The battle was fought and the victory won, 1J2 The Girl in Checks. uotwitlistanding Captain Y ox.' s forced and loi- aioidable absence. The Soutliern Confederacy was justly proud of the action of her brave boys. The governmental authorities, there- fore, very justly concluded that the further service of one who had contracted chills in, and had given one hand to, the defense of his country was not needed in active warfare. Captain Randal Fox was therefore discharged from active service, and ever afterward, dur- ing the great civil struggle, his name appeared on the list of "home guards," "light duty men," etc. In these companies the captain could ahvays be seen at the head of the little column, wath his wounded arm supported by a strip of scarlet cloth, doubtless intended as emblematical of the blood he had given for his country's defense; and in his countenance and about his person there was an air of one who had fought and conquered. The children of the community, whose fathers were on the tented field, looked upon him as a great sol- dier, and their eyes dilated with large wonder when he told his yarns about bloody battle- Randal Fox, Who Had Xo Love for War. 113 fields and narrow escapes. But brave soldiers' wives whispered to eacli other that he was a coward, and ought to be at the front. Up to the time of the battle in which Cap- tain Fox received that fearful wound, which disabled his arm for four years, he had been looked upon by his fellow-citizens as an hon- est man, and doubtless he was. But it is as- tonishing how one fail (( re to meet the reasona- ble and just demands of our fellow-beings fre- quently develops a character wholly different from that formerly possessed. Captain Fox had failed, miserably so, as a soldier. His conscience was smitten; he felt condemned in the estimation of his fellow-citizens. The arm in the sling was a living evidence to himself, as well as to his countrymen, that he was a coward, a liar, and therefore dishonored and dishonest. Whatever virtue he may have had as a citizen prior to the battle of Manassas went down on that (to him) fatal field. He was self-condemned; what could men expect of him but falsehood, treachery, and deceit? He rode at the head of his little column of 8 114 The Girl in Checks. beardless boys and disabled men; but if any patriotism had ever glowed in liis heart, it had now gone to its eternal grave. What did he care for the Southern Confederacy ? Though he diligently sought deserters, what was he but a deserter of the meanest kind? Which was the more honorable — a deserter who con- scientiously believed that the war was of no vital interest to him, and who therefore hid himself away in the mountains that surround- ed his home, or one who must have recognized the importance of the pending issue, but in spite of his convictions hid himself behind a refuge of lies? There was not in all Carolina a more perse- vering hunter of deserters than Eandal Fox. How natural! Accused of a crime ourselves, how we would dislike to be brought for trial before a jury every member of which them- selves had been held in the public estimation as guilty of the very crime for which we were to be tried! Human nature would teach us, no matter what defense we might be able to produce, that the final verdict would be guilty. J I liandal Fox, ^VJ(0 Had Xo Love for War. 115 Each juryman would feel called upon to ren- der such a verdict, in order to cover up his owoi criminality in the eyes of the public. No wonder, then, that Eandal Fox was zealous in bringing deserters to justice; it was natural. It was simply poor, weak, human nature strug- gling to vindicate its deformities and to cover up its own defects. Had Randal Fox stopped here it would not have been so bad, but crim- inality is progressive. From the little lonely cabin on the mountain-side comes a wail of agony to which heaven will listen and which God will revenge. t ©{iAPTEi^ ;T^^ }iU. SAM HOUSTON'S WIFE'S JOURNEY TO A LIVING TOMB, AND HER DEATH. THE bright morning sun of July 11, 1863, was just beginning to throw long shad- ows across the beautiful valley of the Oolenoi when Sam Houston's wife emerged from her cabin home. She pressed the innocent little 'Cinda close to her bosom as she plodded her way along the steep, winding roads. She was bareheaded and bare-footed. In this condi- tion she wended her way for twenty miles along the serpentine roads to the nearest rail- way station. In time of peace she would have been apprehended and detained, but the read- er must remember that the entire country was in a state of ebullition. She was recognized, perhaps, by no one except Abe Grimshaw, who knew nothing then of the occurrence of the preceding night, and he did not even dream of her state of mind, thinking that she was simply going to the house of some neighbor- (128) Death of Sam Houston's Wife. 120 ing mountaineer on some errand requiring great haste. But when the truth came to light that she was missing from home, then he remembered the wild look, perceivable even at the distance he was from her, that was on her face. The arrest of Houston had been so success- fully conducted that no one knew the particu- lars of it, nor even the fact itself, except those who had j)articipated in it. The community realized the fact that both he and his wife were gone from home. The cause of their mysterious disappearance was not known in the community for some years after the fear- ful tragedy of the night when Houston was apprehended and so foully murdered. It is necessary, also, to say in this connec- tion that the death of Sam Houston gave the Confederacy, from that time forth, three good soldiers. The men who accompanied Randal Fox on his bloody mission of murder and rob- bery on that eventful night became so dis- gusted with that department of service, and so conscience-smitten, that they forthwith gave 9 130 The Girl in Checks. np their commissious as " light duty men," en- listed in active service, and fought to the close of the war. Two of them fell upon the bloody and historic field of Appomattox, and the other returned home, and on his dying bed, several years after the close of that bloody struggle, made a full confession of the horrible work of that night. I have digressed thus far in order to show how the matter of which I am writing came to light. To resume, however, the thread of my narrative: Sam Houston's wife reached the little railroad station unmolested. She en- tered the coach of the Columbia-bound pas- senger train, and with the small sum of Con- federate money which her devoted husband had saved, and which he thrust into her hand on the eve of his departure, she paid her way through to the capital city of the State. Crouched down in one corner of the coach, pressing her infant close to her heaving bo- som, she was indeed a picture sad to look upon. The prattling infant, with its smiling face, un- conscious of the sorrows that filled its moth- Death of Sam Houston's Wife. 131 er's heart, afforded a strangely contrasting picture to that of the crouching mother. As the deranged mother boarded the train Randal Fox observed and recognized her, for he had returned from his bloody mission. He quickly read the result of his fearful crime; and, to add to its horror, there was an expres- sion of satisfaction on his smooth, milk and honey countenance. The foul game he was playing seemed destined now to be a success. O the depravity of fallen man! Who can fathom the depths to which he is capable of falling? Whatever may have been his reputed character prior to the war, whatever may have been his virtues as a peaceful, law-abiding citizen before that great struggle which tried the souls of men, we now behold Randal Fox fallen to the utmost dej^ths of criminality. He now, indeed, Hath into monstrous habits put the graces That once were his, and is become as black As if besmeared in hell. He too boarded the train, and sat in another coach, apparently unconcerned, and affable to 132 The Girl in Checks. a degree that was unnsual even for liim. He was determined to watch closely the issue of his deep-laid scheme. Once within the limits of the proud old cap- ital on the Congaree, whither the poor, de- mented wife supposed they had carried her husband, she rushed hither and thither, close- ly scanning every passing company of militia and every straggling soldier; but, disappoint- ed at every turn, the poor creature sat down in the street, having laid her infant upon the bare gi^ound, whence her meaningless chatter- ing and hysterical laughter soon attracted the attention of the police. They apprehended her, and it is almost useless to state that she was committed to a cell in the lunatic asylum. A kind and compassionate lady took the in- fant to her home, and reared the little orphan to womanhood. One month after the committal to the asy- lum the lifeless body of Sam Houston's wife was consigned to a grave in the public ceme- tery in Columbia, S. C. Randal Fox, during the time that had Death of Sam Houston's Wife. 133 elapsed since lier committal to the asylum, had kept himself posted; and, as soon as he heard of the death of his helpless, demented victim, he looked upon his scheme as perfected. For in the interim of her incarceration in a living- tomb he had gone to the lonely little cabin on the mountain-side, and had stolen therefrom the land documents of Sam Houston, knowing that there were no heirs living except the lit- tle infant, whose origin was now wrapped in profound mystery. Therefore, realizing that the property would, under a law of the State, be sold for taxes, he determined to doubly secure the rich valley upon which his heart was set. The reader has already anticipated the re- sult. He forged such alterations in the land documents as were necessary to secure the property. Furthermore, he allowed the prop- erty to be sold for taxes, and bought it at the sheriff's sale for a nominal sum. Thus the property was secured by titles from the sher- iff of the county, and his forgery covered up, at least for a time. 134 The Girl in Checks. Surely Tom Tliaxton spoke the truth when he uttered that seutimeut relative to a future judgment. The penal codes of this world can never mete out justice to such criminals as this heartless murderer and robber. The di- vine fiat exercised in that awful injunction, at the last day, " Depart, ye workers of iniquity, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels," can alone dispense proper punishment to such sinners. ©HAPTEi^ ;>