Etowah : a romance of the confederacy / by Francis Fontaine

ETOWAH.
A Romance of the Confederacy,
BY FRANCIS fONTAINE.
is Is it possible that I sec once more an old brother in arms? Algernon Digby. Itlo not iorget you; but it seeins England has forgotten.
; 'By the soul of Belisarius! if I needed money, I would stand at a, crossing vrith my V\"aterloo medal over my breast, and say to each sleek citizen I have helped to save from the sword of the Frenchman, * It is your shame if I starve.* Koiv lean upon me; I see you should be at home which way?"
The poor soldier pointed his hand towards Oxford Street, and reluctantly ac:)eptod the proffered arm.." From "^My Novel," Lord Lytlon.

Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year of our Lord 1887, BY FRANCIS FONTAINE,
In the OSice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
41944

DEDICATION.
To the disabled Confederate veterans, this book is respectfully dedicated by a fellow-soldier, with the hope that it may be the means of inaugurating a practical sympathy for them commensurate with their necessities.
'.You confronted nearly three millions of enlisted men, during four years of the bloodiest war on record, with a patriotism and heroism unsurpassed in history. Of these 3,000,000 men enlisted in the armies of the United States, 303,843 were killed during the war, and the average of killed and wounded in battle, on one side or the other, frequently exceeded thirty per cent, of the forces engaged.
Neither Waterloo, nor Wagram, nor Lodi, nor any of the great bat hes fought by Napoleon, show as great percentage of losses as the : >attles of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania, Ohicamauga and Atlanta, 'Gettysburg or Shiloh.
At Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 54,000 men fell; at Chicamauga, Jeorgia, 33,000 men were killed and wounded. Malice can find no listing place in a hero's heart, and these figures are presented, not :'o revive bitter memories of the past, but that the reader may appreiate the enormous number of helpless, aged, and crippled veterans : iiroughout the Southern States. While twelve millions of dollars a nonth are paid as pensions to the Federal soldiers, whether wounded M-not, no government pensions these Southern soldiers, and no pub lic charities have been organized for their benefit.
LET VETERAN'S HOMES BE BUILT FOR THOSE THAT ARB HELPLESS.
Philanthropy had never a nobler field of labor, and a patriot's gratitude cannot find more worth}' recipients than these maimed heroes who yielded all in defence of their country.
We of the South owe it to them as a sacred duty, and the grea heart of the American people will esteem it a debt worthily bestowed
"The soldier's spirit greets the soldier's call, There is no hate between the brave and brave,
And he whose hand in battle labored first, When darkness falls will labor first to save."
As a slight contribution to building a Veteran's Home in the city of Atlanta, Georgia, one-half of the proceeds of this book will be ap. plied to that purpose.

PREFACE.
SCENE. A Book-store in New York City.
VISITOR " Have you any book treating of the negro as a slave and as a freedman and citizen ? Any book that describes the domestic life of the Southern people under the r&gime of slavery?"
BOOKSELLER "Oh, yes, 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' is very popular." VISITOK "I know that, and deservedly so. I have seen that book all over Europe, translated into half a dozen languages. But that treats of slavery as it was thought to be by the Abolitionists before the late Yi'ar between the States; it describes the horrors, but not the ; brighter phases of slavery." : BOOKSELLEK " We have The Impending Crisis,' by Helper. It : was recommended for circulation by sixty-eight members of Con: gress, and also by the Secretary of State, when it was published." VISITOR "That is not wliat I-want, either. Like ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,' it pandered to the prejudices of the Abolitionists and advo: cated the confiscation of sla%'6 property without compensation to the : owners. It used the following language, which shows the animus of : the book: 'Frown, sirs; fret, foam, prepare your weapons, threaten, strike, shoot, stab, bring on civil war; dissolve the Union. You can neither foil nor intimidate us ; we have determined to abolish slavery, and, so help us God, abolish it we will! Compensation to slave-owners for negroes! Preposterous idea; the suggestion is criminal, 'the de mand unjust, wicked, damnable, monstrous. Shall we fee the curs ' of slavery to make them rich, at our expense ?' Such is the language used. That is not what I want." : BOOKSELLER "Then what do you want? Ah! I have it, 'The ;: Fool's Errand' will suit you.'' : VISITOS "No; I have read that, too. That is worse than the :':' others, because it is written by a ' carpet-bagger ' who settled in the :: South after the war to make all he could for himself out of the woes
27952

VI

PREFACE.

of an impoverished and disheartened people. "What I want to find is a book which will show the South as it was and is the domestic life and customs of the people, both white and black, both slave and free a book written to give the true history of that remarkable struggle, which so puzzled foreigners, without pandering to Norther:, or Southern prejudices."
BOOKSELLER " There is no such book printed, and, in my judg ment, there will never be. You may as well give up the search."
VISITOR (golto voce)--"We will see. Such a book is needed, and I will write it."
And thus this unpretentious book has been written that the reader may appreciate the motives which actuated the Southern States in seceding from the Union.
In the light of experience, sufficient time has already passed to justify the assertion that the great Republic has been purified in the fiery crucible of war.
It is also evident that the Southern States, in the next half century, will have advanced far more in all the arts, sciences and appliances of civilization without slavery than with it. But one can read all the histories from JSfortnern sources that have been written, and in none of them will be found the unprejudiced, truthful description of the motives, sacrifices, triumphs and losses of the Southern people dur ing the four years of war between the States. To give a fai'.hful picture of life as it was under the rdgime of slavery, " with malice to none and charity for all," the author submits this simple story to the public..

CONTENTS OF CHAPTERS.

^CHAPTER |" :"
"
" " " " " '' '' " " " " " " " " " " " " " "

I. Dixie.^................................................... 1 II. The Tournament..................................... 12 III. AuCIairde Lune.................................... 19 IV. The Tramontane Order........................... 30 V. For the Collegian.................................... 36 VI. The Stars and Bars.................................. 40 VII. At Intervale............................................ 51 VIII. The Capital............................................. 58 IX. Concerning the Mound. Builders ............... 68 X. Old Zeke...'............................................. 85 XI. Mr. Wellington Napoleon Potte................ 89 XII. On Kennesaw........................................... 115..; XIII. The Slave Mart........................................ 130 XTV. The Two Democracies................ ............. 145 XV. In Confederate Days................................ 159 XVI. Fuchsias and Geranium-, .......................... 173 XVII. Takingthe Veil....................................... 181 XVHI. ............................................................. 188 XIX. Uncle Barney.......................................... 199 XX. Truly Loyal............................................ 21G XXI. Reminiscences, The March to the Sea ........ 236 XXII. The March to the Sea......... ...:.................. 249 XXIIL TheBivouac of theDe:uh..................:....... 254 XXIV. L'Arcobaleno.......................................... 264 XXV. AtChestatee........................................... 279 XXVI. A Governess. ......................................... 287

vm

CONTENTS OF CHAPTBKS.

PAGE, CHAPTEK XXVII. The Torch Bearers................................... 299

" XXVIII. God's Acre............................................. 308

"

XXIX. My Son Emile.......................................... 316

"

XXX. The Ku-KluxKlan................................... 333

"

XXXI. Hallback................................................. 348

" XXXII. From "The Newspaper'.......................... 360

" XXXIII. The Arrest...... .. ............................ ......... 367

" XXXIV. The Carnival............................................. 376

" . XXXV. "Noblesse Oblige"..........-............,............. 3S4

" XXXVI. An American Sovereign.............................. 394

" XXXVII. Nostalgia.................................................. 414

" XXXVIII. The Convict. .....;...................................... 443

" XXXIX. Ca Ira..................................................... 453

"

XL. At the Library........................................... 488

"

XLI. At Thronateeska........................................ 479

"

XLII. Arlington.................................................. 491

" XLIII. Our Brother in BUick.................................. 504

Appendix.

ETOWAH.

CHAPTER I.

DIXIE.

The group of young ladies and gentlemen formed an at

tractive scene as they halted their foam-flecked horses one

afternoon at the hospitable home of Judge Dearing in the

little city of Etowah in a far Southern State.

That venerable gentleman sat on the piazza reading a news

paper, and with such interest that the young people had dis

mounted and were approaching the house ere he perceived

them.

A light-hearted, silvery laugh greeted him as he arose to

welcome them, and his daughter, a lovely brunette, intro

duced them, then added:

"Well, Papa, I have brought them at last these travelers

iifrom a foreign land."

"I am delighted to have them with us, Julia; you must

:keep them here as long as you can," said her father as he

^cordially welcomed his daughter's guests.

;;; ; "Why did you not take the carriage, Julia, and where are

:::tlie trunks ?" he asked.

I: "We preferred to surprise them, so Mr. Latane' and I held

iiiia caucus, and he agreed to provide the horses if I would pro-

l^ide the riding skirts and we've had a glorious ride."

I; "Indeed, we have!" said one of her friends. "We cros|gd

|;iihe frontier at a rattling gallop." .s^^^H^P^^^. ^

||; "And I expect to see Miss

'

2

ETOWAH.

"for she seemed determined to defy the law about riding slowly across the bridge."
"As a matter of fact, the bridge-keeper had a right to pre vent your riding fast," said her father, "and you should no: have galloped across the bridge."
"But he didn't do it," answered Julia, laughing, as sh-: thought of the incident.
"I fear you have deeply offended him, Julia, and I will go down and see about it."
"It is not necessary, sir," said Latane; "I took the precau tion of riding back, and, thinking that 'the end justified the means,' 'I lied like truth, but still most truly lied.' I told him that the animal was entirely beyond her control."
"And what did he say?" asked Judge Dearing. "He said that he was glad to know it, and added that he had actually risked his own safety in order to shield the young lady." "Did he say that?" said Julia. "Well, I shall tell him how very sorry I am that I was guilty of such unpardonable rudeness to a poor foreigner like himself." "Why do you call him a foreigner ?" asked one of the young ladies; "he looked just like the natives." "Well, he is a native of that State, but this State is an inde pendent sovereign country with an army and all that isn't it, Papa?" "It is a lamentable fact, my young friends, and you must hurry to your rooms and dress for dinner. After dinner it will tire you, Julia, to supervise the illumination of the house. The 'Star of the West' has been fired upon, and the 'shot which was heard around the world' has gone forth to herald the birth of a new nation. It has been decided by the people generally that every pane of glass in the windows in

ETOWAH.

6

every house in town shall be lighted. In two hours it will be dark, and just at dark the candles are to he lighted." ''. ''Oh, we are to have &grand surprise part}'!" said one of the visitors. "How glad I am that we pot here in time to par ticipate in this spectacle. Will you not send word to father, : that he may come in to see it also?" : "Certainly; do so, by all means, Julia," said her father. :: Clara Leslie, with her father and brother and a young lady swho had been at school with her in Geneva, Switzerland,, inhere Colonel Leslie had lived for the past two years, had ; arrived home that day. Her father and brother had gone on :;:fe>his plantation home, "Thronateeska," three miles distant pjom Etowab, which was not yet prepared for the reception :M the young ladies, and therefore Julia Bearing bad planned
s sudden invitation to her cousin and her friend. The Igirls easily persuaded Colonel Leslie to give his assent, and iilhus the gay party arrived as Julia's guests.
Later Colonel Leslie and his son, Hugh, arrived just as flbe cannon sounded the signal for illuminating the city.
In an instant the houses gleamed with lights; the streets nd squares became brilliant with bonfires and fire-works, :which recalled to the returned tourists the famous Champs "lysees in Paris. Pedestrians thronged the streets, and young men flung Ipheir Zouave caps, or hats adorned with cockades, high in tltie air. Had it been in Paris, this day of hilarious revolution would Illave been ushered in with Woodshed, and hired claqueurs
uld have mounted the walls, and statues, and trees, and fifed the populace in the wild cries of " Vive I' Empereurf"
But in this distant Southern State there was no monarch

4

ETOWAH.

to welcome to power, no ruler to overthrow, and no personal

animosities to gratify.

It seemed absolutely unanimous: the old and the young,

the rich and the poor, the high and the humble, the slave

and the free, all joined in the carnival of enthusiasm.

.

The little group had ascended to the top of the mansion, ;

one of the largest and finest in the city, and had a fine view:

of the whole town.

:i

"Oh, how beautiful it is!" said Clara Leslie, full of thei;

enthusiasm of a girl of eighteen years. "Indeed, it is prettier!

than the illumination during the/efes in Paris."

"Is it, really ?" said Julia. "Oh! how I do long to visit|

foreign lands."

"Why, Miss Julia," said Latane', "you boasted this after-|

noon that you had visited a foreign land."

"And so we did when we crossed the river; but this is no||

like Europe, and, above all, it is not like Paris."

"C'est bien vrai, n'est ce pas, ma bien aim6e?" said Hughl

Leslie, as he looked down into the eyes of Nathalie Blanc, af

lovely daughter of one of the oldest Creole families in Newi|

Orleans.

"Oui, Monsieur, de'ciclement," she answered.

"What are you two talking about ?" said Julia Deaiingf

who had just heard enough to know that they were speafe!

ing French.

;;|

" I said that Paris was the pupil of the eye of the world,!!

said Hugh, not wishing to reveal what he had said.

3

"And I that it was second only to New Orleans; I asf

always loyal to my home," responded Miss Blanc.

|

"That reminds me what it is that makes this scene so|

brilliant and so attractive to me: it is because it beautifM

;:

ETOWAH.

O

our own homes. How glad I shall be to see my old home : again," said Clara.

i

"Home! home! sweet, sweet home!"

:; " ' The dearest spot on earth to me is home,'" said Henry : Latane, humming the air. ;: " Oh! do let us sing it,'' said Julia, and in a moment those clear young voices sang the familiar air with a zest that was ; so charming that Colonel Leslie and Judge Bearing paused : to listen until it was finished before ascending the last flight of stairs to the top of the house. This house, by the way, :. was a typical Southern home. The front was ornamented i by lofty Ionic columns that reached to the roof, and a broad ; veranda ran the length of the mansion. It contained four: teen large rooms, with wide halls on every floor, but the i promenade on top df the house was the most unique and, in : summer, the most delightful feature.
It was finished throughout in hard woods, and the whole lower floor could be converted into a ball-room by throwing ; back the massive mahogany sliding-doors. ; Hardly had they ceased singing when a band of students appeared in the square below, and halted on the lawn which led from the residence of Judge Bearing to the river.
Then Clara Leslie and Nathalie Blanc heard for the first time the stirring strains of the Southern Marseillaise, and, ere they knew it, they had caught the refrain and were join ing in the chorus:

"In Dixie's land I'll take my stand And live and die in Dixie."
And so did the little urchins in the streets; and so did the crowds which made a motley assemblage, until the whole

6

ETOWAH.

square resounded with the martial air, and the enthusiasm

became unbounded.

Colonel Leslie turned and grasped the hand of the vene

rable Judge and said:

" I feel as if I, too, could throw my hat in the air."

Henry Latane, noticing this, said:

" Hugh, do you intend to enter the Military Institute

again ? "

" I don't know. Father and I were talking of it as we

drove into town this evening. I think it more likely that

I will enter the army," said Hugh. " And you, Latan6,

what are you going to do ? "

" I shall return to the Institute in a few days. I am captain

of Company B, you know, and should report promptly. But, I

assure you, a few more evenings like this would spoil me as

a cadet and induce me to join you and aid in making

history."

" Who is captain of Company C ? " asked Hugh.

" Barnum. Do you remember him ? "

"Very well, and very favorably. A better fellow I never

knew. But, if my memory is not at fault, he is a native of

New York."

" You are correct, and I agree with you in your good opin

ion of him."

"How does he take this sort of thing? " said Hugh, wav- I

ing bis hand toward the enthusiastic groups in the square :

and in the streets below them.

;

" That I don't know; no one does. He is singularly reti- :

cent; but whatever he does, he does well, and his course as :

to the war will be animated by the loftiest sense of duty, I :

do not doubt.'

\\

ETOWAH.

7

In a few moments the young people followed the elders and were gaily talking in the parlors.
To Colonel Leslie's remark Judge Bearing only replied by a profound bow, then led the way down to the library.
There the two old gentlemen sat and talked upon the im pending issues, while ever and anon bright, merry laughter echoed from the parlors, and told how those young people were enjoying themselves without a care and without a sorrow.
" You do not seem to enter into the spirit of the occasion with your usual zest, Judge," remarked his guest.
" No, I am sorry to say that I cannot. I have sad fore bodings as to the wisdom of Secession. Indeed, I am satis fied that it is a mistake, and that we should fight, if fight we must, within the Union. But to form a new government is full of peril. The United States will exhaust every resource before consenting to disunion. I fear a long and bloody war is before us."
" Have you any doubts as to the constitutional right of this State to secede ? "
"Not the slightest as to this State or any of the original thirteen colonies. But Louisiana and Florida, for example, were bought and paid for by the government of the United States. They have only what the " Declaration of Inde pendence". calls the inalienable right of revolution. Have you read Captain Maury's letter, written to the Grand Ad miral of Russia, declining the home and princely salary of fered him by Russia ? "
"No; have you it?" " Yes; I will read it to you. It was printed in this morn iSntgat'sesptaopesre,ceadned."gives the whole story "as'"t"o t"h-e "ri"gh""t*"-o' f the



BTOWAH.

" But before reading Captain Maury's opinion, let me say again that secession is a grievous mistake. What have we to gain by this proposed change of our relation to the general government?* We have had sixty years of Southern Presidents to their twenty-four.
"There have been eighteen Southern Judges of the Supreme Court, while the North has had but eleven. Although nearly four-fifths of the judicial business has arisen in the free States, yet a majority of the court has always been from the South. In choosing the presiding officer (pro tern.) of the Senate, we have had twenty-four and they eleven; Speakers of the House, we have had twenty-three and they twelve. Attor ney-Generals, we have had fourteen while the North has had but five. Foreign Ministers, we have had eighty-six and they but fifty-four. We have had a majority of the higher officers of the army and navy.
" No, sir; I am not enthusiastic about it, but I regard it as a lamentable mistake. While I will go with my adopted State, which has honored me beyond my deserts, I must de clare to you, as I have often done before, and as it has also been declared by the greatest and wisest statesmen and pa triots of this and other lands, that the American government is the best and freest of all governments, the most equal in its rights, the most just in its decisions, the most lenient in its measures, and the most inspiring in its principles to ele vate the race of men that the sun of heaven ever shone upon."
The judge then read the following letter:
" RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, 1861. " ADMIRAL Your letter reached me only a few days ago. It fills me with emotions. In it I am offered the hospitali-
*See Appendix.

ETOWAH.

y

ties of a great and powerful empire, with the Grand Admiral of its fleets for patron and friend. Inducements are held out, such as none but the most magnanimous of princes could offer, and such as nothing but a stern sense of duty may withstand. A home in the bosom of my family on the banks of the Neva, where, in the midst of books and sur rounded by friends, I am without care for the morrow, to have the most princely means and facilities for prosecuting those studies and continuing those philosophical labors in which I take most delight. All the advantages which I en joyed in Washington are, with a larger discretion, to be of fered me in Russia. Surely a more flattering invitation could not reach a more grateful heart.
" I have slept upon it. It is becoming that I should be candid and in a few words frankly state the circumstances by which I find myself surrounded.
'' The State of Virginia gave me birth within her borders; among many friends, the nearest of kin and troops of excel lent neighbors my children are planting their vine and figtree ; on her green bosom are the graves of my fathers; the political whirlpool from which your kind forethought sought to rescue me has already drawn her into a fierce and bloody war.
" In 1778, when this State accepted the Federal Constitu tion and entered the American Union, she did so with the formal declaration, that she reserved to herself the right towithdraw from it for cause, and resume those powers and attributes of sovereignty which she had never ceded away, but only delegated for certain definite and specific purposes.
" When the President-elect commenced to set at naught the very objects of the Constitution, and without the au thority of law proceeded to issue his proclamation of the 15th

10

ETOWAH.

of April, Virginia, in the exercise of that reserved right, de cided that the time had come when her safety, her dignity and honor required her to resume those delegated powers, and withdraw from the Union. She did so.
" She then straightway called upon her sons in the Federal service to retire therefrom and come to her relief.
"This call found me in the midst of those quiet, physical researches at the observatory in Washington, which I am now with so much delicacy of thought and goodness of heart in vited to resume in Russia. Having been brought up in the school of ' State rights,' where we had for masters the greatest statesmen of America, and among them Mr. Madison, the wisest of them all, I could not and did not hesitate. I recog nized this call, considered it mandatory, and formally re nouncing all allegiance to the broken Union, hastened over to the south side of the Potomac, there to renew to father land those vows of fealty, service and devotion which the State of Virginia had permitted me to pledge to the Federal Union, so long only as by serving it I might serve her. Thus my sword has been tendered in her cause, and the tender has been accepted. Her soil is invaded; the enemy is actually at her gates, and here I am, contending, as the fathers of the Republic did, for the right of self-government, and those very principles for the maintenance of which Washington fought when this, his native State, was a Colony of Great Britain.
" The path of duty and honor is therefore plain. By fol lowing it with the devotion and loyalty of a true sailor I shall, I am persuaded, have the glorious and proud recom pense that is contained in the 'well done' of the Grand Admiral of Russia and his noble companions in arms.
"When the invader is expelled, and as soon thereafter as the State will grant me leave, I promise myself the pleasure

ETOWAH.

It

of a trip across the Atlantic, and shall hasten to Russia

that I may there in person, on the banks of the Neva, have

the honor and pleasure of expressing to her Grand Admiral

the sentiments of respect and esteem with which his repeated

acts of kindness and the generous encouragements that he

has afforded me in the pursuits of science, has inspired his

obedient servant,

MATTHEW P. MAUEY,

" Commander Confederate States Navy.

" To H. R. H., the Grand Duke Constantine, Grand Admiral of Russia, St. Petersburg."

" That is the whole of it in a nut-shell," said Col. Leslie, as the Judoje finished reading, "and the leading Republican editor in the United States, Horace Greeley, agrees with Cap tain Maury. I cut this out of the newspaper edited by Mr. Greeley, and it fits the reasoning of Commander Maury to a nicety." And then he read the following:

"If the cotton States shall become satisfied that they can do better out of the Union than in it, we insist on letting them go in peace.
" If the Declaration of Independence justifies the secession from the British empire of three millions o colonists in 1776, we do not see why it would not justify the secession of five millions of Southern ers from the Federal Union in 1861.
" If the slave States, the cotton States or the Gulf States only choose to form an independent nation, they have a clear moral right to do so."

12

ETOWAH.

CHAPTER If.
THE TOURNAMENT.
The stand at the race course was thronged with lovely . women and manly men. The afternoon was delightful, the warm atmosphere heing tempered by the soft spring breezes that caressed the cheeks of maidens, whose color rivaled that of the rose. The bright blue skies were relieved by Alpine-like cumulus clouds, which, if they did not seem to have motion, would be perfect reproductions of the snowclad peaks amid the Alps. The last race is finished, and at her waist hangs the trophy won by Nathalie Blanc from Hugh Leslie. A handkerchief, on which was embroidered an ideal flag of the new nation, designed and executed by Julia Bearing, with only three stars as yet, though space was left for a dozen more, was in the happy possession of Bruton Stewart as an evidence of his success in betting on Latane's blooded mare against his own thoroughbred, which Julia had championed. And a close observer might have seen the shy, sweet glance that Clara Leslie gave to Latand as he received from Julia's hand the little curl which 'she clipped from the wealth of hair golden and luxuriant tresses that well could spare it and which indicated that he had won the rarest prize of all. At least Latane so con sidered it, for he said:
" I shall have a locket made, which shall be the shrine for this"
" Love-lock," interrupted Julia, with a mischievous smile. "No; love-lock is purely a masculine appendage," said Stewart. " It was worn by men of fashion in the reign of (Jueen Elizabeth worn on the forehead, not on the^heart.

ETOWAH.

13

Look you! Latari6, let us guard our rights as men, and rig idly taboo the wearing of love-locks by the fair, sweet sex."
The bugles sounded for the " knights" to assemble for the tourney as this speech was made, and Hugh Leslie, Latand and Stewart, with a dozen other young gentlemen from va rious parts of the grand stand, bade a hasty adieu to their young lady friends, and descended to enter the lists.
A dozen young ladies might have been seen then to pin a ribbon, each of a different color, and each contrasting well with the dress selected for this occasion, so that when she arose, her ''knight" might see the emblem which was to cheer him to victory. And now, below them, "pools" are being sold for the final race which is to succeed the tourna ment ; for all the elite of the county is there, and no county in America, perhaps, thus distant from a large city, could boast of horses more famed for pedigree and swiftness than that of Etowah.
Each "knight" was required by the club rules to ride his own horse, and that the horse should be of a well-known pedigree. It was thus that they kept out of the lists, with out giving offense, men who might be accomplished riders but were not of their "set." Thus in the middle ages the title of "knight" or ''cavalier" was limited to persons of no ble birth. A light mask was worn by each knight, and an imitation of the armor worn by the knights of old was usually worn so as to complete the disguise and render the spectacle more attractive. By their colors they were known by the wearers of the ribbons. The silver tones of a cornet announced their egress from the round-house, or place of assemblage, and the prancing steeds seemed eager for a race around the course rather than a tilt at the rings. It was indeed a pleasing spectacle as they rode forth and passed the

14

ETOWAH.

grand stand, each ''knight" doffing his plumed hat as he passed the lady who wore his colors.
Stewart was recognized by his great stature and herculean strength, and the applause of the multitude greeted him as he rode forth. But his eyes were cast to where Julia Bearing sat, and he waved the handkerchief toward her as he saw her pin the ribbon to her dress.
" By George! Stewart/' said Latane, " I believe you have won the fight already!"
" Not so, Latand; I received my 'walking papers' this morning, but I am going to win this contest, crown her as
queen of beauty, and shake the dust of this State from my feet." There was no time for x further conversation; the bugles sounded the charge, and away, one after another, the knights, each with lance well poised, dashed for the twenty consecutive rings.
Eighteen rings were on the lance held proudly aloft by Stewart, as he approached the beginning point, and cries of "Hurrah for the Halbardier!" resounded.
He was dressed like an ancient Halbardier, and his lance was very like the halbard, an ancient military weapon, con sisting of a pole or shaft of wood, having a head armed with, a steel point, with a cross-piece of steel.
He had won the choice of position, and being in the lead, had taken all the rings but two, which were taken by the third man on the list, a "knight" who bore the name "Un known." Had not betting on the results of the tournament been prohibited by the rules of the club, a large amount would have been placed on the success of Stewart, now the general favorite, and well did Julia assume the role allotted to her, though in her heart she regretted that she would probably have to be publicly congratulated on being crown-

ETOWAH.

15

ed as "queen of love and beauty" by the gentleman whom ; she had rejected as a suitor that day.
" Etowah Heights," his ancestral home, was the finest es tate in the county, and Stewart was, in all respects, worthy her favorab'e consideration.
Her vanity was flattered by his persistent decision to ap: pear to be her devot-d admirer until he left with his troop
for "the front," as the seat of probable war was already styled in Virginia.
The fourth knight chose as his device "The Talisman;" and none felt its significance more deeply than the young girl whose tiny lock of hair had in two hours caused him to change his costume and title that he might adapt himself to the incident.
" Count Robert, of Paris," " Ivanhoe," and other famousknights of the middle ages, were the prototypes selected by the various competitors. The knight who bore on his crest the word "Unknown" was Hugh Le-lie, who was thought to be still abroad, except by a few intimate friends, for in those days the arrival or departure of prominent people was not chronicled in the daily gazette; their names paraded side by side with that of the family baker or milliner, anx ious to chronicle their departure for " the springs." Nor were the minute descriptions of the dresses of the belles at parties considered proper subjects for newspaper criticism. They were trained in a different social school, and were averse to " staleing their presence before the vulgar herd." The members of the club which supported the race-course and tournament festivals retained for their families the privilege accorded to the ancient cavaliers, that of occupy ing during the races or public sports the first fourteen tiersor rows of seats. The cavaliers of the middle ages alone-

16

ETOWAH.

possessed the right to carry a banner, and to appear in the tourneys and contest for the prize; to wear gilded armor and a collar of gold; to place a vane upon their manor houses; to have a particular seal upon their coat-of-arms; to take the title of monseigneur, and their wives of madame. In exchange for these prerogatives, they swore to combat injustice everywhere, to be the defenders of the orphan and the widow, and to obey without reserve the orders of their lady or of their king. Thus the glorious history of this in stitution during the crusades in the Holy Land; thus the most ameliorating conditions of feudal times; thus the or der of the Good Templars, the Legion of Honor, the Hospitaliers, and the "Sir Knights," which distinguish the mem bers of the brotherhood of to-day which have the same ob jects in view. Originated at a time when the strong hand was the only law, brave men took upon themselves the task of protecting the weak and redressing the wrongs of the in jured. Women, being the weakest and most apt to suffer wrong, were first protected, and thus courtesy and refine ment were blended with courage, and to be a knight was to be the champion of the oppressed. But chivalry had noth ing to do with any but those of gentle birth, and the dogma that "all men are, and of right ought to be, created free and " equal," had not been proclaimed. A knight would protect hfs vassals as he would his horse, but he did not appreciate that the common people had any rights if opposed to his will.
War was his profession; trade he could not indulge in without forfeiture of his social position and his feudal rights. The chase, tournaments and other sports, which developed manly strength and courteous courage, were his amusements. Tournaments were held under the auspices

ETOWAH.

17

of the King or a great noble, and were attended by ladies who bestowed the prizes won by the successful combatants. Again the bugles sound, and away the contestants go, the " Halbardier" now in the rear and Hugh Leslie in front, and .: as they approach the stand it is seen that seventeen rings : grace his lance, and the " Unknown " is cheered vociferously. .Nathalie Blanc has arisen from her seat, and claps her : hands as she sees her knight take ring after ring, but her pleasure is moderated when she learns that he lacks one ring of being equal to Stewart. " Oh! Julia, I fear you have won !" she said.
Again the bugles sound, and with a grace that is marked by all, Latand leads. A shout that makes the stand tremble arises, as the graceful youth holds his lance aloft and it is seen that he has taken every.ring.
One after one, they all essay again until the time for the final effort of the young giant, Stewart, arrives. For the second time he advances, and after him comes no other. Thirty-eight rings stand to the credit of Latan^, for only two were taken by his predecessors in the last run, and he secured all the rest.
The tilt is between Latand and Stewart. In his excite ment Stewart has let fall his mask, and few are as popular as he in the county. People rise on their feet, heads are bent forward and eyes are strained to see the champion make his final thrust. In unison with the crowd around them, our young friends also arose, and when it is seen that the most fearless equestrienne and /the handsomest girl in the county, Miss Julia Bearing, wears his colors, the excite ment increases, and murmurs of admiration are heard.
"What a handsome couple they will make!" is the re mark.
Bruton Stewart, a proud smile upon his lips, rides for2

18

ETOWAH.

!

ward, stops for a moment just below the group in which::

Miss Bearing is the central figure, lifts his hat and bows:!

with that.-grace for which West Point graduates have be~:

come famous. With irresistible impulse Julia Bearing un-:;

pins the ribbon and waves it to him.

!

.In a moment he is off, and voices cry, "One!" "two!!":;!

" three !!!" and .so on, until the fifteenth ring is reached, as:;!

the people count as he secures each ring. Surely he will;;:

win! The sympathy of the spectators is with the superb:;:

young cavalry leader, who returned but a month ago from;;:

West Point, and already has organized a cavalry regiment;;:

and will leave next week for Virginia.

s

" Hurrah!"" Hurrah!" resounds on every side, as fast as!

he takes the rings.

|

Julia Bearing is excited as she never was before. Exult-:-;;

ing in his success, she could not help admiring the superb,|

reckless, daring and graceful carriage of her champion, ands

she began to wonder if she had not made a mistake in re-!

jecting so gallant a cavalier. But could she have seen the!

proud, scornful look upon his face, she would have realized!

that no effort could ever again make Bruton Stewart a sup-!

pliant for her favor.

|

It was the look of a man who scorned the very success he;|

was achieving in securing these harmless rings; it was th<5|

look of a man who courts death in battle; it was the look of!

a herculean " Front de-Bosuf."

;!

What means the sudden hush then the scream as. Julia;!

sees the horse stumble, fall, and Bruton Stewart thrown;!

headlong and senseless on the ground. The horse, in at-;|

tempting to rise, leaped upon the prostrate form.

:!

" Give him air! Bon't crowd around him!" cried Latan^,;!

the first to reach his side, and a moment later Julia Bearing!

was also at his side.

--

:!;

CHAPTER III.

::::

AU CLAIE DE LUNE.

;;;:- Fortunately Bruton Stewart had been only stunned, and, :;:as no bones were broken, his robust constitution enabled ;;;him to re-join his command in a reasonable time. ;;;, While he could ill brook such a rejection as he had re ceived, yet that social training which keeps in the foreground ; the tenets of chivalry bade him bear his disappointment :,without one word of censure or one inconsiderate expression !-: concerning the innocent author of it. It made him a reck less, gallant soldier, eager to participate in the clash of arms : which was now at hand. And sentiment, he vowed, should ; no more be indulged in by him. : Julia, as soon as she discovered that he was not seriously : hurt, was the gayest of the trio, and no one could extort an expression showing that she felt any further interest in Bruton Stewart. A few days later, as they were promenad ing along the piazza,, a negro youth dismounted at the gate and approached them. Taking off his hat and politely hand ing Julia a note, he said: "With Marse Henry's compli ments, Miss Bearing." Opening and reading it, Julia ex claimed :
"It is an invitation to a moonlight picnic; what do you say, girls, shall we accept it ?"
" By all means, if papa will consent that we shall do so," answered Clara Leslie.
'"What is a moonlight picnic?" asked Nathalie Blanc. "You must pardon my ignorance, but half of my life, you know, has been passed abroad; and young girls are not

20

ETOWAH.

:

allowed to attend picnics with young gentlemen, even in the ;

day time, in Switzerland. "

m

;!

" What a horrid country it musPbe!" said Julia. " Now, ;

I think, if you strike out of a girl's life the delightful pleas- J

ures of social life, as we know it here, from eighteen years ;

until one is married, why, you would strike out the best part,;

of it. A moonlight picnic is as far superior to any other ;

picnic as a debut party is to an ordinary party."

iM ;

" Well, none of us, I believe, has had her debut party as :

yet; and it seems to rue"

:

"Somewhat previous," suggested Julia, as Miss Blanc hes- :

itated, "'putting the cart before the horse,' and so forth. :

Well, I dare say you are right. We will just leave it to ;

papa and Colonel Leslie to decide." This was said just ;

as the three girls approached the two old gf ntlemen, who ;

were pleasantly conversing.

;

"Who is going, my daughter, and where is it to be?";

asked Judge Bearing.

;

" Except Mr. Stewart, we are to have the same escorts that ;

we had at the tournament. Mrs. Latane will be our chape-

ron. and it is to be given on the club-grounds to Magnolia ;

Island."

;

"Then let them go, Colonel; they could not go under bet-';

ter auspices."

;

" It is astonishing," said Hugh Leslie to Nathalie Blanc. ;

" how quickly one adapts himself to his surroundings. When ;

in the beautiful Alps I wished the months to lengthen ;

into years; when studying the treasures in the art galleries :

in Germany and Italy, I thought that I could spend years :

thus in that delightful study. And now, after two weeks';

frolicking at home, I am a good American again, and all ;

thoughts of study have been blotted out for the time being." ;

EIOWAH.

21

!:!h: " That is true as tQispiillmen, I suppose," replied Miss iiiBlanc;;;" but I have lii|i|;: so long in Europe since my :::1;enth::|'egS|::ta;fact -thatl|^*''annot so easily conform to some
;;;; . ";:||8|i:|ggSince ?" suggested Hugh. ::::; ?|J|l|||||tance, this ride by moonlight with you. Noth!:::mg:!p|i|iKseem so shocking to dear Mademoiselle Lobereau, ::::m^|^^fier in Geneva. In no country in Europe could I :::do;:i||lnthout violating social ethics," :: : "The more's the pity," he replied. " We ' outside barba dians' are a law unto ourselves in social matters. But our ^people seem as well-bred as Europeans, and our women, as ;;arule, are more refined and modest." :: " It all seems novel, strange and charming to me, of course, NJor I am witfsi you; but in truth, Mr. Leslie, it don't seem ^exactly projpr to me." ; : " Well, ifyou say so we will immediately return, but we ; will have to pass all the carriages, as our carriage is in the ; lead, and every one will surmise that we disapprove of a ; custom as innocent as it -is agreeable. Besides, we have reached the bridge that leads to Magnolia Island, and the : night is glorious." : ";0h ! no ; I don't wish to be conspicuous or to seem to be hypercritical. It is only poor little I whom it affects so, and I suppose it is due to my education."
Hugh laughed a rarely musical laugh was his, and clear as a lute. " I remember," said he, " the espionage that your teacher used to keep over your movements, and the difficulty I had in securing even a momentary chat with you alone in the parlor at your school in Geneva. If it had not been for Clara's diplomacy, I don't believe that I ever would have had an opportunity to tell you how completely you had won my

22

ETOWAH.

:

heart. I vowed then if we ever met in America to get even;:

by utilizing our delightful social freedom to the utmost." ;

" Well, I think you have succeeded, for this moonlight;;

drive is "

;:;

" Delicious," he interrupted, and just then the carriage::

stopped, the well-dressed negro servant threw open the door, ;

and they descended at the pavilion.

:

Kapidly other carriages followed until a hundred people ;

were present.

;

The moonlight picnic resembled the ordinary evening par- ;

ties, except that dancing was indulged in in the open air on ;

a platform built for the occasion, which was as smooth and ;

as even as any ball-room floor need be.

;

" What large building is that up the avenue, Mr. Leslie ? " ;

" That is our club-house; what the Germans call conver-

sationhaus at Baden-Baden."

;

" I hope it is not modeled after that place."

;

" Oh! no; there are no roulette tables or rouge-et-noir tables, ;

and no gambling of any kind is permitted on this island. ;

Would you like to promenade ? "

;

" Yes, if you please. This is delightful, Mr. Leslie. I did !

not expect to see so gay a scene; it is more Parisian than:;;

American, is it not? "

j;

" No, I can't say that; but the island is the property of;;

the club, and it combines many advantages."

..;

Along the promenades they passed and re-passed many ;

happy couples who seemed as appreciative as they were. .;.;

It was indeed a lovely scene. The island seemed a pyra^:;

mid of vegetation at a distance, the effect of the large white;;

magnolia flowers amid green foliage being exceptionally ;

striking.

;

, They"ascended terrace after terrace, passed through a grove .;

::

ETOWAH.

23

III of pomegranate, orange, citron and myrtle trees, and stopped II: before a huge cactus. ||: " Why, these are tropical trees, are they not? How do II they protect them in winter?" \ "Just as they do at the Isola Bella in the Lago Maggiore," ; he answered; "stoves are heated beneath them; but orange I trees grow here naturally. We have made the Isola Bella I: our model in adorning this island." : As they turned to view the scene below them the Chinese
lanterns were lighted along the promenades, and pine knot fires, on stands erected for the purpose, illuminated the avenues.
" The glory of this isle is in its fountains," he added; "they embellish it on every hand."
" It is beautiful! beautiful!" she answered. " I quite agree with you," said Hugh, " and with the writer, Matthews, who pronounces it 'a magic creation of labor and taste a fairy land which might have served as a model for the Garden of Calypso.'" They walked in silence for a few moments; then he said: " There must be something peculiarly exhilarating in dancing au clair de lune." "Why do you say that?" she replied. "Look at Latan and Miss Julia Bearing and you will see why the word " lunatic" was invented. It is derived from luna, the moon, and if Latane is not ' moon-struck,' then I'm a Dutchman." " What an idea! L had never thought of the derivation, but is it really true ?" " Yes, the ancients gave the name lunatic to every one who submits to che influence of the moon; and I repeat, Latane"

24

ETOWAH.

is ' moon-struck' and is as submissive to Miss Julia Bearing; as if she was some skillful magnetizer and he her sujet."
" And I say," she replied, " that Mr. Latand is not in love with Julia, but is in. love with Clara Leslie."
" Is that so ?" Why, I never suspected that." " Where have your eyes been these past two weeks! It is as plain as daylight." " To the best of my knowledge they have been concen trated upon the most beautiful and lovable vision on earth, carissima mia; that is as plain as moonlight," he answered, looking down into her face, which was now blushing with happiness. " Really, Nathalie," he continued, " when you are near I have not eyes even for my sweet, gentle sister, whom I love next to yourself." A smile inexpressibly confiding rewarded this speech. Then she said: " Do you know, I hope Clara will learn to reciprocate Mr. Latane's attachment, do not you ?" " I can't say that I wish any man to steal her affections from us. But I will say that Henry Latane comes nearer being my ideal of a gentleman than any man of my ac quaintance. Yes, if Clara loved him, I would most assured ly approve of an engagement. I am glad that Bruton Stewart is not here to-night," he added. " Why ? It seems to me that his presence is the one thing lacking to make this a perfect evening. Julia has seemed to me to be a little distrait all the evening, and I have thought it must be owing to the absence of that handsome cavalry officer." " You don't know my cousin well yet, and you can hardly know Bruton Stewart if you think that either of them would

:

ETOWAH.

25

^ evince any concern about the other so long as matters are ; 'uncertain between them." : " Was he severely hurt ?"
"By Julia, yes; by his horse, no. She rejected him the morning of the day he was thrown from his horse, and he and she are, beyond doubt, the two proudest people I have ever known."
'' Has he entirely recovered ?" "From the fall, yes; from the shock, to his amour-propre, no; and I don't think he ever will forgive her." "Forgive her? Why what crime has she committed? How can Mr. Stewart have anything to forgive?" " He feels that she flirted with him and he has been fa mous at West Point as the greatest ' catch' in the cadet corps there. Many, many scheming mammas, it is said, have soughc the acquaintance of the handsomest man in the United States Military Academy, and he could have married one great heiress and charming girl, I know." "Then you and Mr. Stewart have been intimate friends ?" " Yes, and are so still, though I have never had many in timates." " And you don't like him now ?" " On the contrary, I like and admire him more than I ever did. He is the soul of honor, but he would not make Miss Julia happy." " Why ? It seems to me if a girl loves truly she cannot help being happy." He rewarded this speech with a gentle pressure of the hand that rested on his arm and a look that spoke volumes. "Yes, it is a peculiarly blessed arrangement by which prov idence blinds the sweetest of women to the most glaring faults of the men whom they love. But Bruton Stewart is

26

ETOWAH.

';;

proud, haughty and imperious. So is Julia. His is a very jealous nature"
" And Julia's is not," interrupted his fiancee; " she is the most generous and the most unselfish girl I ever knew."
" Granted; but nature made her a coquette, and she may try ever so much to be otherwise, and she can't help attract ing admiration. Now, to see another man giving her soci ety a decided preference, and evincing the admiration which she so generally excites, would be the gall of wormwood to my jealous friend, Stewart, and he would be sure to do something rash."
" That would be very trying to one's nerves; very provok ing," she answered.
" But you don't think he would fight a duel about her, do you ?"
"Certainly, as quickly as the dropping of a hat if he thought there was any occasion for it. But that is not likely, as he left yesterday to join his regiment in Virginia; and I believe he went a week before the appointed time, to avoid attending this picnic, that he might not be thrown in her presence again."
Gay groups were chatting here and there while the band played enlivening airs, and occasionally a couple would take their places on the platform and join the waltzers there. The platform was not covered, and they danced by the light of the moon. Indeed, there were no other lights except the pine-knot fires along the main avenue and the Chine se lan terns suspended from the branches of the trees along the more secluded paths. And now the last hour was approach ing. Clara Leslie's musical talent was known to be highly cultivated, and she was asked to sing a song composed by one of the club in honor of the place selected for their club-

ETOWAH.

27

house and picnic grounds. A guitar was handed to her, and silence succeeded the festive sounds as she sang j:he fol lowing :

The moving clouds with mantle gray Float peacefully, onward, away; And 'neath thy surface, flashing bright, Gleam stars like diamonds of the night. Flow, rio, flow! away! away! Haste onward to the rolling sea!
Behold the sheen from fleecy fold Flash in the stream like wan of gold, And 'joy the moonbeam's dancing quiver, Gilding the wavelets of the river; Flow, rio, flow! away! away ! Boll onward to the deep blue sea.
The earth is covered o'er with green, And moonlit sky is soft, serene, Where countless stars with silvery light Kindle the pathless dome of night; Flow, rio, flow! away! away! Mingle thy currents with the sea.
The great Magnolia's flowers glow To-night, like lilies, white as snow; The breeze is sweet with perfumes rare That laden this soft southern air. Would, would that I could ever view Thy dimpled stream rio, adieu !
The guests crowded around to congratulate the young musician, who had acquitted herself remarkably well.
" Clara, I declare I am proud of you !" said Nathalie Blanc. " And I will echo Miss Nathalie's speech," said her brother. "I envy you your success, and am so glad that you came," said Julia, as she pressed her cousin's hand affectionately.

28

ETOWAH.

But Latane was not to be seen; after the congratulations were over, however, he was seen coming slowly from the spring, his mother being his companion. He reached the group just as Nathalie Blanc said : " Now, Julia, I have a favor to ask which I know will shock you I am amazed at myself for asking it but is the author of that song pres ent?"
Julia, looking at the group of gentlemen in the vicinity, after a pause answered: " Yes, shall I present him ?"
"Yes; that is the request I intended to make." " Mr. Latane," said Julia, " let me introduce to you MISB Nathalie Blanc, who requests a second introduction." " Indeed!" said Miss Blanc. " Did you compose that song? I congratulate you and the club," she said, with unfeigned enthusiasm. "But, indeed, you are the last per son I should have suspected of poetic accomplishment." It was evident that Clara Leslie was equally surprised and equally pleased to learn that her escort had composed the song. Was it prophetic of good or evil that such an un looked-for circumstance shoxild have happened? She had learned the song the week before, and had done so at the suggestion of another member of the club, whose scholarly attainments were generally recognized, and, in common with others, she thought that he was the author. He sang exquisitely, but he had none of the dashing spirit of adven ture that seemed to characterize Latand. He was not at the Island on this evening and, hence, Clara felt freer than she would have done had the supposed author been present. The glance of reproof which Latand gave to Julia Bearing was softened to an approving smile as he saw the radiant face of Clara Leslie.

ETOWAH.

29

While no further reference was made to the incident, there seemed, between these two a tacit understanding which needed no words to interpret. A half hour later the party returned to the city.
The river in places was broad and almost "as placid as a lake, and then the many islands and the rocks jutting out from the stream, narrowed it until it became a rushing flood of waters, casting high the white spray. The moon lighted the scene all the way, for the road through the forest ran along side or above the river until it reached Etowah. This beautiful drive revealed a series of lovely scenes, each as charming as a landscape of Claude Lorraine; and the joyous spirits that enlivened the unbroken forest with that essence of conversation, "small talk," were unconscious of any im propriety in thus attending this fete champetre. The woods were fragrant with flowers, and here and there the whiteflowered "dog-wood" clusters seemed in the moonlight like figures created by the wand of enchantment. And the silence of the streets was enlivened by merry voices as they drove through the city to Judge Dearing's residence

CHAPTER IV.
THE TRAMONTANE OEDEB.
"He gathered round him noble men, Brave, daring, kind and true;
He dubbed them knight, and gave to each A badge a gold horse-shoe,
And bound them with a mighty oath, Leigemen to king and country both."
In the stately mansion at Chestatee might be seen the family chart which traced the lineage of the family without a break in the line for six centuries. The most noted among Henry Latane's early ancestors was Jacques de Latane, who was martyred A. D. 1563.
The family chronicles state that this Jacques de Latane was born in the Province of Maine, near the borders of Nor mandy, in the year 1500. As soon as he was old enough to bear arms, his father procured him a commission in the household of the king, Francis I., in what was then called "Les Ordonnances du Roi." He retained his command, not only to the end of the reign of Francis I., but during the reigns of Henry II., Francis II. and until the second year of Charles IX., when he voluntarily resigned. He had become a convert to Protestantism on the first preaching of the re formed religion in France in 1535. His influence with the king gave him the means of showing kindness to his Pro testant brethren, and he frequently shielded them from op pression. He was, therefore, much beloved by his brotherofficers, by the men under his command and by the ten antry on his estate.

ETOWAH.

31

: He was a witness to the horrible persecutions to which the ; Huguenots were subjected between the years 1534 and 1563,
and had participated in their struggles until, the Constable Montmorency being a prisoner and the Duke of Guise slain, favorable terms were granted to the Huguenot leader, Coligny.
Believing himself and the Huguenots protected by this Edict of Pacification in 1562, he retired to his paternal es tates in Maine to end his days in peace. But his elevated position and his staunch adherence to the new reformed faith made him a marked man, and it was judged expedient to get rid of such a leader.
In the year 1563 a number of ruffians were dispatched from the city of Le Maus to attack his house at night. He was taken by surprise, dragged out of his house and his throat cut.
Thus the blood of martyrs flowed in the veins of young Henry de Latane, who looked like a worthy scion of noble stock.
The earliest days of the " Old Dominion " found a de Latand on the staff of Lord Spottswood when he discovered the valley of Virginia, in commemoration of which event he created the Tramontane Order,* and made Lieutenant Henry de Latand a "Knight of the Q-olden Horse-Shoe." Since the year 1713, the de Latand family had been in Virginia, John

*Lord Spottsword, during his expedition across the Blue Ridge, instituted the order known as " The Tramontane Order." The badge of this order 'was a golden horse-shoe. See Dr. Slaughter's history of St. Mark's Parish, Virginia. It is a historic fact that the first party of white men who ever crossed the Blue Ridge were these "knights of the golden horse-shoe," and that they passed through what is now known as the Swift Run Gap. This highway was opened by order of King.George III. in 1764. See Acts of the Assembly of the colony of Vir ginia.

o2

ETOWAH.

si

de Latan^, an officer in the English army, having been sent;;;;;;

out to purchase a plantation in such situation as he judged!

would prove most advantageous. He landed in Virginia;.!

traveled through that Colony, as well as through Maryland;.!

Pennsylvania and New Jersey, to the town of New Yorfe|;

He concluded that Virginia presented the most desirable cir-|

cumstances, all things considered, and purchased a planta-l

tion, which is owned by one of his descendants to this!

day.

1

In France, under the ancien regime, an individual of nobles;

family could not engage in trade or the mechanic arts without!:

forfeiting his claim to nobility. Hence, the de Latane faro-:::;;

ily, being forced by confiscation and exile to earn their living,::;:

when they became citizens of Virginia ceased to use the pre-;s

fix <!de," the indication of the ancient nobility of the family.,:-;

No lawyer in the State had a more brilliant future before:::

him than did the father of Henry Latane when he was::-

killed leading his regiment in the charge at Cherubusco,;;

Mexico. He displayed conspicuous gallantry at San Anto-i

nio, Cherubusco, Molino del Rey and the City of Mexico.:!

At Contreras he ''behaved in the handsomest manner," ins

the language of the official report. At Cherubusco he fell::

mortally wounded.

:

Julia Bearing was Clara Leslie's first cousin, her deceased:;

mother being Julia's aunt. She was also distantly connected

with the Latand family. Her father, Judge Bearing, had been ;

for many years the Judge of the United States Court, and was:

a Pennsylvanian by birth, having come to his adopted State ;

in early life. His grand-father had been the first President;

of the State University, and his father was a prominent offi-;

cer in the United States Army during his life and until hies

death. Henoe, the very conservative opinions which he en-

Jiir

ETOWAH.

33

|::tsrtained of the approaching conflict between'the South and i:fte North, East and West. m Colonel Leslie's grand-father had received his patent to the I;: estate on which he lived from King George of England. Its ^Indian name had been given to it in commemoration of ;; the Indian maiden, "Thronateeska," who took the fatal leap i; ;from the precipitous bluff into the rapids below with her ;;lover rather than see him burned at the stake by her irate !!- father, who had forbidden their union. The locality is now : called "Lover's Leap." In like manner, the name of the : chief, her father, was given to the adjoining estate, owned
by the mother of Henry Latan^, and known as Chestatee. ':.' The falls that beautified the Etowah river in front of i these two fine estates recalled to the returned tourists the
falls of the Sallenche in the Canton Valais in Switzerland, ; while the two mansions in the lovely valley were surrounded
by beautiful grounds ornamented with flowers, rare plants, artificial lakes, fish ponds and parks for deer.
One of the pre-historic mounds that extend from Ohio and Kentucky to Mexico relics of the unknown race which first peopled this continent overlooked the river at Throna teeska, and on its summit was a fountain, which was watered from the upper waters of a tributary stream.
These young people had wealth, the highest social position in the land, delightful homes, cultured society all, in short, that makes life most desirable. Colonel Leslie alone owned five hundred negro slaves, inherited from his father. These negroes were distributed on a half dozen plantations. His income was princely and his generosity was proverbial. Judge Bearing had always refused to buy or sell a slave, and hence, had never been a slave-owner. But the servants
3

34

ETOWAH.

;;

about his home belonged to his daughter, Julia, as they had-!

been the property of her mother. His reverence for the lawN

and the laws of inheritance forbade his giving them their::

freedom, but he had already set aside a sum for the purpose::

of buying them from his daughter that he might emancipate::

them when she became of age. Her maid and the old wo

man who had been her nurse during her childhood stoutly":

declared that they never would leave her, even if they were ; :

emancipated; and the more Judge Bearing pondered upon:

the question the more perplexed he became, for it was ex-::

tremely doubtful whether emancipation would better their :|

condition. Then the Dred Scott decision! Said Chief Jus-;;-

tice Taney, of the United States Supreme Court, in the " Dred;:;

Scott" decision in 1856: "It is difficult to realize the state of;:

public opinion in relation to that unfortunate race which ;

prevailed in the civilized and enlightened portions of the :

world at the time of the Declaration of Independence and

when the Constitution of the United States was framed and \

adopted. But the public history of every European nation ;

displays it in a manner too plain to be mistaken. They

had for more than a century before been regarded as beings ;

of an inferior order, and altogether unfit to associate with

the white race, either in social or political relations; and so

far inferior that they had no rights whicli the white man

was bound to respect; and that the negro might justly and

lawfully be reduced to slavery for his benefit.

" He was bought and sold, and treated as an ordinary ar- ;

tide of merchandise and traffic whenever a profit could be :

made out of it."

;

Such were the words of the Chief Justice in support of the

conclusions of law of the highest judicial tribunal of the

land at the time of which we write.

BTOWAH.

35

Nearly one-half of the population of the South were negro slaves. If slave-holders were brutal, as political agitators charged, there was a servile foe in their rear far more to be dreaded than any enemy in the front. Yet in those distant plantation homes the gentle mistress, with her young chil dren whose fathers and brothers were in the Confederate army, hundreds of miles distant, felt no terror amid the hun dreds of slaves around them. The white population of the United States was eight times as numerous as that of the se ceding States. The word " slave" enlisted public sentiment throughout the civilized world against them. Capable of be ing distorted into the most hideous of meanings, the word " slave " proved a more terrible foe than any which confronted their armed soldiery. But now, like a prairie fire, the war spirit had swept over the States, carrying into the ranks of Confederate volunteers the old and the young, the rich and the poor.
And in ten thousand homes, delicate, refined gentlewomen with their little children lived amid their negro slaves, pro tected by the kinship of humanity.

CHAPTER V.
But a month before Henry Latane had written the fol lowing sophomoric article for the college magazine :
FOE THE COLLEGIAN.
One cannot help wondering as to his prospective wife. Have I ever seen her ? Who is she ? Where is she ?
Have I ever talked with her, or is she still hidden from me by the impenetrable and impalpable future ? Mystery of mysteries, our unwedded fate! Which one of my acquaint ances ; what plan of mine; what train of thought is to lead me to her ?
Or will it be no friend, no plan, no thought, but only the silent workings of those strange things called accidents? Strange! that of all the millions that people this earth we two are so surely to find each other, though now so utterly ignorant of each other's existence. We are approaching now by an inevitable fate, yet neither of us feels in the heart one throb of that great passion which one day is to reign there. We are even indifferent to each other as yet. Oh! for a glance into some mirror that would reflect, even if for an in stant only, the features of one who is to be the sharer of his fortunes, the participant in all his thoughts. Is she a blonde? a brunette? Is she, like myself, a careless, indiffer ent somebody? Or has she suffered till suffering ha^ puri fied her spirit? Or has she known none but thornless flow ers?
She may be even now brightening the world about her with her smiles.

ETOWAH.

37

"Why does she not come to me out of the misty future to comfort me and light up my lonely life?
Ah! if she only knew how unsatisfactory the world is without her companionship how I long to meet and wel come her, I know she would come to me quickly.
Does she inherit the traits of some remote ancestor, and is this ativism favorable to my happiness or to hers ?
From books, statues, pictures, the soul gleans from mem ories, and forms for itself a face to gaze upon with its inner eye a face that epitomizes all the beauties of the past ages and concentrates them in one. Is this face hers? Bears it yet, in the strange, sad, but hopeful thoughtfulness of its feat ures, some traces of a glorious past life before this one ?
Such faces have I seen, whose wondrous beauty must have been dispensed by the higher thoughts of a lofty ante rior life.
Has ma femme inconnue such a face ? Are the complex mental attributes on which genius and talent depend in herited ?
Out of the countless millions who people the earth, like the countless stars that deck the heavens, if no two are iden tically the same, of what avail is heredity ?
Is it an illusion that the Arabs have for thousands of years kept pedigrees of their horses ? If not an illusion, is it not far more important that the wife whom I seek shall belong to the elect ?
Is inheritance the rule and non-inheritance the anomaly ? Why read the thirtieth chapter of Genesis, or Plato's Republic, or Virgil's Georgics? Is not Darwin right when he says: " But human nature is the same throughout the world; fashion reigns supreme, and man is apt to value whatever he may chance to possess." It seems to me that

38

ETOWAH.

I value most what I do not possess. And yet, is it well to possess ? " In every living creature we may feel assured that a host of lost characters lie ready to be evolved under proper conditions." How can we utilize this power of call ing back to life long-lost characters ?
It is possible that my affinity is plain, hard, practical, downright ugly! \ Ifso, may she remain in the unknown, and bloom on the banks of the river Nowhere in the land of Utopia, dispelling, like the Eucalyptus, the miasma of un happy forebodings. ;
Ah, but her mind! Is she reading at this moment some grand master, or some old maid, who has ransacked all the dictionaries for words big enough, comprehensive enough to explain her meaning which "adumbrates in the penum bra?"
Or is she singing some song of the ages, some song that has welled up out of the great heart of mankind and found its ex pression at last from the hand of a Maestro ? Thus is she making her own the thoughts and feelings of the best and greatest reaping the harvest of the literary host that she may share it with me some day ?
And who has preceded me in her affections ? But, sup posing that she has never been courted, would I like to be her forlorn hope ? Would it be a pleasant reflection to know that my lips were the first that ever uttered words of love to her? Scylla and Charybdis are here!
Is she precise, prim, exact? Will she, if she is a traveled miss aufait to customs European, will she tell me that a spit toon is unknown over there because gentlemen in Europe never chew tobacco? That I may retort that rocking chairs are there also unknown and, ergo, ladies never sit in rocking chairs? If, by chance, she be a Northern girl, will she tell

!!

ETOWAH.

39

::::me that the very essence of delightful laziness, putting one's :: feet against pillar or railing, is purely a Southern custom ; :that Northerners never do this?
I wonder if she will catch me thus enflagrante delictu, and Nutter those cabalistic words which always invoke the hidden ; devils of a man's nature: "I told you so!" ; It would interest one to know whether he is to storm the citadel of the lady's heart, or be himself taken by storm or stratagem. And her kin! But one wearies himself with such conjectures, and here endeth the reveries of a bachelor!
The above duly appeared in the "Collegian," and the "bachelor" writer, Henry Latane, was aed twenty. : ; He congratulated himself that hehadnever "fallen in love" ; had never yet met the "destiny," whose coming he so flip pantly invoked in the above epistle. He frequently asserted that love was a weakness which debarred a man from mak ing his mark in the world; and that many years should elapse before he would hazard his future by giving the mat ter any consideration whatever.
Withal, he was as manly, frank, intelligent and genial a young fellow as one is apt to meet in life was this young editor of the college magazine.
And little did he reck of the stirring scenes in which he was so soon to enact a conspicuous part, and of the chequered vicissitudes which were to characterize his own affection, which came to him as suddenly as a meteor ^.pierced his vaunted impenetrability with the ease and purity of a light ning flash, and left him in the meshes of a love as pure a? the tints of the dawn.

CHAPTER vi.

;;

THE STARS AND BARS.

:1

They had not a vessel on the seas; not a regiment of vet--:;

eran troops; no arsenals, nor manufactories for making armg;;

and ammunition.

:;

The " Free States" under the slogan of " Union " were bat-:;

tling for the balance of power; the " Slave States" under;;

the slogan of "Liberty" were fighting for independence ;

repelling invaders protecting their homes and firesides. -;!

The Constitution of the Confederate States absolutely pro-;

hibited the over-sea slave trade; that of the Union did not.;

The Federals declared that they were fighting to emanci-;;

pate the negro; the Confederates retorted that the Constitu

tion was the shield of slavery, and that, under its protection,;

they had invested two thousands of millions of dollars in the;

" peculiar institution," and that emancipation, without;

compensation, meant ruin. The logic of events made slavery:

the corner-stone of the new government.

Meanwhile Washington, Jefferson, and three-fourths of all;;

the Presidents of the U nited States, from the beginning of the;

government, were slave-holders. Disunion had its origin in;

New England, now the hot-bed of unionism and abolitionism.;

On four separate occasions Massachusetts had threatened;

to secede from the Union; on one occasion her legislature had;

actually passed a vote of secession. One of the chief leaders:

of the abolitionists, on the fourth of July, 1856, undertook;

to "register a pledge before heaven to do what within him lay:

to effect the eternal overthrow of the Union." He was now:

ETOWAH.

41

; taking an active part in support of the war to maintain that ; Union. ; And yet the father of the Republican party, the great Fed: eralist, Alexander Hamilton, stigmatized coercion of sover: eign States as " madness." ; American leaders seemed to be political Iconoclasts.
The Union had been the shield of slavery; and the slave holders now took the initiative in casting aside the shield.
One fought for the rights of the Sovereign States; the other for an Imperial Republic.
Thus this clash of arms between the Titans! Thus a new flag was flung to the breeze, THE STABS AND BARS. And now the great battle of Manassas had resulted in a glorious triumph for that new standard. At roll-call that morning the membership of the regiment to which Lieutenant Hugh Leslie belonged was five hundred and eighty; by night, the killed and wounded amounted to two hundred and eighty. They had heard for the first time the weird scream of bomb-shells, which tore the ground about them into fragments, and scattered death-dealing missiles into their ranks. The Minnie balls cut through the leaves of the trees, and bullets rattled against fences or rocks like peas thrown against a drum-head. The slaughter was ter rific as the enemy closed around them, while dust and smoke obscured the advancing columns on the narrow plateau. The valley resounded as the decimated troops pressed on in the gallant charge, and faced again and again the everincreasing hosts before them. The situation was critical, and defeat seemed inevitable, as the Federal columns, which grew into vast proportions, rapidly advanced with cheers of victory. The woods and

42

ETOWAH.

;i

fields were filled with their masses of infantry and well-::

equipped cavalry. It was then that General Johnston or*;:

dered the charge of his last available brigade.

::;

As at Waterloo, the field of battle at Manassas was chiefl?::

fought on a small plateau. Had Grouchy arrived two hour*::;

sooner than did Blucher, Napoleon would have won the bat-::;

tie and the map of Europe would have been changed. Unless::

Early should arrive in a few moments, Generals Johnston : ;

and Beauregard saw that the day was lost. Yet these gallant;;

troops did not falter, but advanced against the hosts before :

them with yells that betokened victory; reckless, desperate,^:

daring, impetuous men, who would not acknowledge defeat!;

And now,far in the distance, they see the glint of flash-;

ing steel, as Early's brigade comes in view, having double- : ;

quicked nearly all the way from its original position six ;

miles below the Stone bridge, far down on Bull Run. Placed : ;

in position just in the rear of the little army, they advanced :

to the field amid the boom of cannon and the enfilading :

fire of musketry. To their right, the left of the Confederate :

army was heavily engaged; in front they encountered the :

Federal skirmish line first, then formed in line of battle. A .;

quarter of an hour later and ihe Federals would have flanked ;

the Confederates, and the field would have been lost. Amid

the welcoming cheers of the gallant troops on their right they

advanced, with their colors flying, 'and held well forward

that all might see that these flags were the stars and bars.

They seemed fresh troops did,-these gray-coats as they

quickly obeyed the command: -"On right, by file, into

line!" and formed in line of battle as if on dress-p'arade.

The men fell by scores; but their comrades pressed on

over their fallen bodies and opened fire. The Confederate

batteries were now in action all along the line, and the or-

||::

ETOWAH.

43

p-derwas given to make a general charge. Already the atlifeok of Beauregard in front had driven the Federals back, ll&rid, as Early's brigade charged their right and took them lllairly in flank, the Federal lines broke and fled, and were Ipjiven like chaff before the wind. Vainly their officers ||si>ught to rally them, ;!; ; ; The retreat became a stampede. II The stampede became a panic, and resembled the flight of ItiMurad Bey with his 80,000 Mussulmans and Asiatic miliItia before the victorious Kleber. |:;, The panic became a rout, and artillery horses fell.dead !&pon each other, obstructing the flight of the frenzied f:troops. Caissons were overturned in the desperate flight, as I the Federals were forced over .the narrow plateau and driven | into the fields, where the columns scattered and rushed pell -mell, a disorganized mob, toward Bull Run. The cavalry land light batteries pursued, and, far in the distance, reij; treating masses could be seen as the flying Federals turned -toward the Potomac. The wounded asked for water. AmB:balances went on the run to the battle field. Couriers flew ; with orders in hot haste over the hill and plain. Generals -with their staffs galloped from hill to hill to overlook the Bmovements of the troops, who were surging and swaying at ; double quick, and yelling like wild Indians as they drove :;back the enemy and broke their columns.
This bivouac of the dead was an awful scene. - One hurried to the branch for water; another rode to the leax for ambulances to bear away the wounded. : Surgeons were busy; the wounded were all along the line, and as one passed he saw the quivering flesh and I arteries and the thigh-bones severed with the saw, and heard the agonized groans of those who were thus saved by being maimed for life.

44

ETOWAH.

:!

As one poor fellow was attended to, and moved aside, tfe|

doctor wiped i he perspiration from his brow, and hurried||i

said, "Next!"

I

Excitement and victory smothered feeling during tbsi

battle, but now sympathy was busy; wounded men ofiwi

talked, and even laughed and cried as the surgeons dressel

their wounds. The Federal dead were so thick in sots|

places that one could step from corpse to corpse.

.;|;

On the summit of a knoll, where the fight had been dead!

liest, Hugh Leslie and Colonel Pierce found the body e|

their friend, Major Moyer, where they had seen him fall!

The cannonading had ceased, but the smoke still hoverei;

over the battle-field, and ambulances went slowly to au|i

fro bearing off the wounded. His body was partly ccM

ered by the battle-flag, which he had wrested from the gals

lant Federal who had slain the color-bearer. The flag el

the " Lone Star State" thus covered the Gray and the Blug;|

But a singular scene confronted them. Two men were i||

violent dispute over the body of their fallen friend, anil

were too much absorbed in their efforts to rob him to o||i

serve their approach. The German accent of one all

these men showed that he had hardly been in the United;?

States long enough to become naturalized. He was dressed!

in the Federal uniform. The other wore the gray uniform!

of the Southern army. The German was struggling

the other robber, who had torn open the coat of the

man and had taken therefrom a purse. Hardly had he douei

so when two pistols touched the heads of the robbers, an.3

two determined faces greeted their eyes as they turned fe>

see who the new-comers were.

;|

The two villains had detected each other in the same

suit, and had cast aside their weapons that each

I

ETOWAH.

46

giicnow that the design of the other was to plunder the dead, giaot fight the living. Crime was the talisman that drew to gether two strangers wearing the uniform of the opposing s armies. Neither of them had engaged in the battle; both |;bf'them had waited until night and flight had put an end 5 to hostilities, and thus they formed an alliance. The Ger5man-Yankee fell on his knees and begged for mercy; the :renegade was stoical as an Indian, while Colonel Pierce 5 seized his ear and turned his head until his forehead touched K the muzzle of his pistol. He then coolly remarked: "You gare disposed to be dangerously familiar." His look was more ;; that of stolid indifference than fear. Treachery vied with ;:;cruelty in that sinister face, and cunning shone in the glit:;tering black eyes. His appearance indicated resolution, and ::his tall, angular figure was strong and lithe, while the stoopSing, round shoulders showed that this man had done hard labor somewhere. ; "Who are you?" asked his captor. :;: I" I am what letter-writers call your humble servant, and Shave great respect for your pistol." \ :' "An escaped convict?" :: "No; a miner from the silver mines of Arizona." \: " Who is he whom you have just robbed ? " :: " A very generous young rebel who, in settling his debts :.with this world, left to me this purse, signed by Thomas :Moyer. It contains two checks for $2,500. Take the one ;:drawn for $1,500 and turn loose my ear." ; ; " What is your name ? No more trifling, or I'll blow your brains out, you murderous dog! " : " Jonathan Ray, 20th Louisiana regiment, at your service," ^replied the man coolly." : " And his ? " said Pierce, pointing to the prostrate form of l-TomMoyer.

46

ETOWAH.

!

" Major Blank blanked if I know, though he has a major's!

star on his coat."

||

" Put that purse and the checks where you found them!:;

Hesitate, Jonathan Ray, and your life pays the forfeit." !

The man obeyed.

:;!

" Now go I " said Pierce. " If I find you away from you?!

regiment again I will have you tried and shot for the crime!;!;!

already committed."

:!

The man gave one wild, incredulous stare, then ran rap-!

idly down the hill, followed by his comrade, whom Hugs!

had likewise released, giving him a kick as he departed. ::|

They now gently raised their friend, who, recognizing!

them, faintly pressed their hands. They bore him to a!

spring nearby, and by bathing bis bead and moistening his!!;

parched lips, gradually revived him. Then, giving him somgg

brandy, they were rejoiced to find that his pulse was more!

natural and his rest more comfortable.

!

" Hugh, go now for Dr. Battle, and tell him to send aa|

ambulance here immediately," said Colonel Pierce. Without!

a moment's delay, Hugh went on his mission. They hall

left their horses tied to a tree at the foot of the hill, but no*;;!

they were not to be seen. Evidently the robbers whom they!

had spared had taken them. No time was to be lost iis!

Moyer was to be saved, and Hugh kept on his way on foot!

After wandering sometime, he became conscious that he was!

lost, and did not know the direction of the camp.

!

The silent stars looked down upon the wounded, the dy!

ing and the dead, and the brave youth's heart was saddened;!

by the spectacle of those rigid forms stilled in death, which!!

a few hours before, exulted in life and glowed with patriotic;;;

ardor.

;;;

From the point where he stood he could see the Henry

House, where Mrs. Henry had been killed that day by the::

ETOWAH.

47

fire from the Federal side. She had been wounded twice in the house, and Hugh had aided the soldiers by whom she was taken down to the branch as a place of safety. Here she was struck again, and she was taken back to the house where she was finally killed, the house being riddled.
The moon lighted this ghastly scene, where forms of dead soldiers, the Gray and the Blue, lay as they had fallen in battle. Here and there were caissons overturned, and hav ersacks and cartridge-boxes littered the plateau. As Hugh neared the stream where the carnage had been most dreadful, a moan arrested his step'-*. He listened. Near him lay a group of Confederate and Federal dead, and underneath two of them was a wounded soldier, who feebly begged for a cup
of water "a drink of water before I die!" Hugh filled his hat with water and, returning, raised the head of the wounded soldier and gave him water.
Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. The wounded soldier was a youth and the water seemed to give him a new lease on life. His face was blood-stained and Hugh had not observed it particularly, his mind being too full of thoughts concerning Moyer. His friend might lose his life for this delay, caused by aiding a Federal soldier, yet not to haveheeded his request would have been unworthy a soldier or a gentleman. Now, however, he must hurry, and he gently prepared to ease the soldier down again, first having removed the bodies which lay across his limbs. The hand of the soldier tightened its grasp on his arm, and a voice said, in a strangely familiar accent, "God bless you, Hugh! don't you know me ?" To Hugh's amazement the lieutenant proved to be a former class-mate, Charles Barnum! He bathed his head tenderly, and washed away the blood which had coagulated upon his face and head. The

48

ETOWAH,

ball had passed around the skull without fracturing it, but

he was al^o wounded in the calf of the leg by a minnie ball

which broke the small (fibula) bone, and badly fractured the

larger one. The ball had flattened and had come out side

ways, severing muscles, tendons, veins and nerves, and hence;:

Barnum was very seriously wounded. Taking off his coat,;

Hugh placed it under his head, that he might have greater::

comfort. He then told Barnum of Moyer's probably fatal

wound, and of his mission in search of a surgeon.

::

"Never mind me, Hugh; save Tom Moyer," said the noble;;

youth.

::

"I'll save you both ; cheer up, Barnum. I'll soon be back,";;

and he was off again.

:;!

He did not go far; as he entered the wood, he heard steps;:;

behind him, and, drawing his revolver, turned with the;;;

command, "halt!" He had scarcely uttered the word when;;

a shot, fired from behind a tree in front of him, struck him ;

in the head and put an end to his humane mission.

The robbers, after concealing the horses, had followed;;;

Hugh. They had seen him minister to the wants of a Fed-;;;

eral officer; had waited until he had entered the wood,

intending to murder him by knocking him down and cut

ting his throat. They did not wish to excite Pierce's sus-:;;;

picions by firing a gun, for they intended to kill them in;;;;

detail in order to get possession of the checks. When Hugh;;;

heard the step of the German who intended to strike him;;;

from behind, he stopped and before he could well draw his;;;:

weapon, he had been shot by the man whom he had spared;;;

Pierce was watching the sleeping form of Moyer w ien th;S

shot was fired; creeping forward to the highest point of the;;;;

hill he looked forth. The moon now shone brightly; he saw;!

two men rush from the wood to where they had tied the;;:;

::

ETOWAH.

49

:: horses, mount them and ride toward him. They rode slowly, ;.; ': caution sly, but Pierce finally recognized the horses and the ;; truth flashed upon him in an instant. Hurrying back, he ;;! crossed the hrook, and stationed himself behind a large oak
tree so as to be able to fire upon any one who approached : from that side. The forest was on every other side. .;:.' He waited a half hour, but could neither see nor hear any : one; Moyer was still sleeping, Pierce having placed his coat ; over him. He stepped forth to take a new position, and as ; he did so a ball whizzed past his head; as the report came
from the rear, he turned and firing quickly and at random, for the smoke had not yet cleared away, his ball struck the Dutchman, killing him just as he was in the act of aiming : his gun again. Rushing forward he stumbled and fell. The ; fall saved his life, for the other robber had taken deadly aim : and fired just as he stumbled; the ball passed over him. As the smoke passed away he saw the Yankee, for he now wore the Federal uniform, mounted on his horse and fired : upon him. Seeing that his comrade was killed, Jonathan Ray fled untouched, Pierce emptying another barrel at him as he rode off. Moyer, aroused by the firing and delirious ; still, shouted: "Hurrah for Pierce! now, boys, charge!" then sank again exhausted by the effort. His wounds bled again; his countenance became pallid as death, and his extremities again grew cold. As Pierce knelt by him, moments seemed hours, and imagination conjured up new horrors. His conscience reproached him, too, for having sent Hugh off alone. Had he sent him to his grave?
These thoughts were arrested by the approach of wheels; the ambulance of the Eighth regiment had come in search of their wounded. It was the work of a moment to place
4

50

ETOWAH.

!

Moyer in the ambulance, and taking his seat by him, hes

held his head in his lap as they moved slowly off.

n

As they neared the wood where the shot was fired, they;;

saw men bearing off a wounded man on a litter. Pierce::;

halted them and asked what regiment they belonged to and:;!

who they were bearing off? "The Fifth Texas. We came;;;

out to look for our major, Major Moyer. We found the hero;:

of the great battle lying here desperately wounded, and we;;;;

are going to take care of him first."

;j

"Your major is here," said Colonel Pierce, hurriedly gefk;

ting out of the ambulance and going to the litter. He looked;;;

earnestly at the body and now the strong man wept. There;;

lay the pallid features of Hugh Leslie turned to the sky. The;;

blood still trickled from the wound in the head; the form;;

seemed stiffening in death; the boy-soldier seemed sleeping;;

the sleep that knows no'waking on earth!

H

The morrow dawned a bright summer day. The birds;;

in the green trees were twitting and singing the sweetest;;

carols of summer. The daisies and violets seemed never;;

lovelier or sweeter. The earth seemed at peace. The dead

seemed restored; the living to die. Hugh Leslie, whom all;

thought would die, had rallied, and had insisted that Bar-;

num should be sought for, and now they were lying near;

each other. Major Moyer died that night.

;

CHAPTER VII.

AT "INTERVALE."

"Mr. Potts, do you know Captain Latan6?" asked Clara

Leslie.

*

"I am acquainted with, him; I don't know him," replied

Wellington Napoleon Potts, a young man, aged twenty-five.

The occasion was a "Reception" at the hospitable summer

home of Colonel Leslie in commencement week. The scene

was the ball-room at "Intervale." It was believed that Potts

had entered the Military Institute in order to avoid going

into the army, for already the word "skulker" had been

coined.

"That is strange," replied Clara; "every one speaks so

highly of Captain Latan^."

"I think he is the most arrogant and pretentious fellow I

ever knew; he expresses a contempt for me because I have

entered the Institute instead of enlisting in the army, while

remaining here himself. I predict that he will never go into

the army."

"Do you consider that a disgrace, Mr. Potts?"

"I do, when a man feels it his duty to go; for my part, I

do not think so, and I shall not enlist until forced to do so.

What do you think about it ?"

Clara, astonished at this statement, said: "It seems to me

to be incumbent upon every gentleman. But pardon me,

Mr. Potts, you are our guest, and I did not mean to be rude."

Potts bowed, but said nothing; for, without intending it,

52

ETOWAH.

Clara, in promenading with. Potts, had approached the place where stood her father and Henry Latane, and Colonel Les lie said :
"I am glad you have joined us, Clara, for I wish you to add your persuasions to mine, and induce Latane to remain at the Institute until he graduates."
"Are you going into the army, Captain Latane?" she asked, speaking directly to Latane; for her thoughts dwelt upon the remark just made by Potts.
"He, has been elected Captain of the "Light Guards," the company which his father led to Mexico," replied her father, "and will leave for Virginia, going first to Etowah to-mor row. In spite of this, I do not think his duty to his mother, or his responsibilities as a slave-holder, will justify his going until it becomes more imperative than it is now."
Latane smiled as he said: ''My resignation has been ten dered to the Superintendent, and by him will be accepted to-morrow. I will leave to-morrow night." Then with careless grace he asked : "Miss Clara, can I have the next dance?"
"Certainly," she replied, "if Mr. Potts will release me." Potts, who still lingered near them, bowed affirmatively, but an expression of sinister malice darkened his face, while Latane's beamed with generous good nature. It was "the Cuban." As they danced this spirited dance they were the observed of the observers, for never had Latane seemed more joyous, as his light-hearted laughter responded to the silvery tones of his lovely companion. A great load seemed lifted from his heart -at last his wish was realized the army honors, duty and inclination beckoned him on with inspiring wand. The various groups promenaded while the band discoursed from the inspiring airs of Tannhauser at the conclusion of this dance.

ETOWAH.

53

"I am glad you administered that rebuke to Potts, Miss Clara; I would not have missed hearing it and seeing him wince under it for worlds."
''But I did not mean that you should hear it, and I did not mean to say it to a guest in my own home; but, really, Captain Latan^, he astonished me so much that I was hard ly conscious of what I said."
''Don't let it worry you;it is as easy to pierce the hide of a rhinoceros with a hair-pin as to wound that skulker's sen sibilities. Indeed, it is high time that every gentleman should leave the Institute, whether he goes to the front or not, for it is becoming a refuge for such fellows as Potts, to whom I have spoken much more plainly than you did."
"Who is Mr. Potts, Captain Latane? I never heard of the name before."
Neither he nor Clara knew that Potts was standing behind a pillar on the veranda and heard every word they uttered.
"Potts," replied Latand, "is what savants call a rara avis, and what I call my bete noire." I am really sorry for one who answers at roll-call to the name of Wellington Napoleon Potts! I never think of him without rec tiling a criticism of the late Judge S : 'I am ready to maintain against all comers and goers, that a man with his name can never rise in the world. A union of the grandiloquent and the mean is a never-failing source of ridicule, and a fellow whose ap pellation is Wellington, or Napoleon, or both, topped off with Potts, is destined to be somewhat of a butt in his pas sage through the world. He feels the ridicule of his name and cowers and sinks under it, or he takes the only other alternative and glories in it. Either turn is fatal to true ele vation of character. A great name, when coupled with a man or a dog who is not great, dwarfs him into absolute

54

ETOWAH.

meanness, and there is a curious tendency in men and dogs to conform to the estimate which the world has of them ' I have a pack of fox hounds at home, and one is a very poor, contemptible dog; I shall change his name and call him Potts."
Clara laughed, for he spoke in a tone of raillery, and re plied :
"But you have not told me who he is; I did not ask you what he was. Now, ordinarily, it would be self-condemna tion in me to ask you who my father's guest is; but you know at these commencement parties one meets everybody.'"
"All that I know about him is that he lives at Pottsville, which, you know, is a suburban manufacturing village near Etowah, and his father owns the factory and the village. His father came from New England, when a young man, as a mechanic, and was employed as an overseer in my father's cotton mill. Later, he became superintendent, and finally amassed sufficient money to build his own mill. He is now one of the wealthiest men in the State, and Wellington Na poleon Potts has been his book-keeper for several years, and is his only son and sole heir. Financially, you see, he is quite a parti."
The angry frown and look of malicious hate on the eaves dropper's face, as he heard this criticism of himself, was modified now by a smile of self-conceit as Potts heard bis wealth described also.
In spite of the estimate given of his character, Potts had decided to make this proud young beauty his wife, if it took him ten years to do it.
He was animated to this resolution, not by sentiment or love, but by cool calculation. His unique ambition, next to making money, was to raise himself and family in the

ETOWAH.

55

social scale, and be received in the best circles of society, to which he had hitherto been debarred in spite of his wealth.
"She will have a cool hundred thousand dollars, besides niggers!" said Potts to himself, as he turned away to avoid the approach of the couple, who seemed too much interested in themselves, however, to notice any others.
"I would not marry a 'skulker' to save his life 1" said Clara, "even if he had all the wealth of the Astors and Croe sus united."
"Then I have no chance," said Latane. "It has been months since Hugh went to Virginia, and I am still here."
"You should not speak thus, Captain Latane, even in jest; you may be criticised by people who do not know, as I do, how anxious you are to go 'to the front,' as you express it, and you have only remained here because your duty to your mother demands it. "
"Who told you that?" "No one, but I know that it is so. I have heard Hugh speak of you too often to doubt your gallantry." "I thank you, Miss Clara; 3~ou have looked into my heart clearly. It is indeed a hard trial to me, and I am almost convinced that it is no longer my duty to remain here. I appeal to you to look into my heart still deeper, and read there all that I would say to you to-night, but for your youth and my brief acquaintance with you since you were a child. Strange mystery, is it not, that I, who have always been told that we were destined for each other, should this night discover that the idea which I have laughed at is now my dearest wish ? To you I ask the question : shall I go or remain, as your father suggests, to protect my mother and those dependent upon her and upon me?" She recognizing intuitively that that look and voice,

56

ETOWAH.

1

whose earnest, trembling tones could not be counterfeited,:;:

meant a loyal love for her said, while her eyes filled witfel

tears, "I ouglit not to advise you; I am but a simple, inex:-::;:

perienced girl; my opinion is not worth having, but if I::

were your mother I would say, go! "

:!

They stood upon the rustic bridge; the massive vines!

which clustered over the trellis that arched overhead and!

hung down from the sides of the bridge concealed them;!

from the laughing groups which thronged the paths and!;

graveled walks about the lawn.

is

"I knew it," he answered, "I knew it, " and ere she could!

reply he had borne her unresisting hand to his lips. What;;;

might have followed was prevented by the sound of clatter-;;;

ing hoofs as a horseman rapidly approached up the winding;;;

road through the lawn to the house. Leaping from the;!

panting animal, the rider handed to Latane a telegram;;;

addressed to Colonel Hugh Leslie.

!

They entered the parlors and found the old gentleman in;:;

his happiest mood, explaining to a lady the beauties of a;:

rare specimen of porcelain which he had brought from Dres-K

den. "This, madam, is a treasure; the painting is of ex-;;:

quisite delicacy of coloring. It is by Bracquemonde, who, 1!

think, has even excelled the ancients in painting on porce-;;;;

lain." Just at this moment, touching his arm, Latane!

handed him the telegram. Rumors of the battle at Manas-!

sas had reached the town, though it was not thought that;;;:

the regiment to which Hugh Leslie belonged was engaged^;;:

and, instantly divining the serious nature of this telegram,;;;

he retired from the room, Clara following.

A moment later a fall was heard as Clara had swooned, on;;

hearing its contents. The telegram stated that Hugh Leslie ;i

!;;:"

ETOWAH.

57

;:; :nad been dangerously wounded and had been carried to :: Richmond. ; : ' It was worded as follows:

I

"RICHMOND, VA., July 22d, 1861.

"Your son, Hugh Leslie, Jr., greatly distinguished him-

; self yesterday. Surgeon Battle reports that Lieutenant

; Leslie was dangerously wounded. Come to Richmond at

. once. Inquire at the General Hospital or at the War De

partment.

M. B. PIERCE. "

Colonel Leslie sank in his chair, overcome by the terrible news.
Clara swooned as she read the telegram. The house of revelry was changed into one of grief. The guests departed-
It was now that Potts began his systematic work of knav ery. His object was two-fold: first, to thwart Henry Latane, and next to win Clara Leslie's fortune by marrying her himself.
No lawyer ever prepared a brief more carefully and sys tematically than did Potts his scheming against the peace of mind of Henry Latane.
The old Scot's maxim : :"Get thee the money, my son, honestly if thee can, but get the money,"; he reverenced. Emulating a prominent politician of that day, he considered all men purchasable, and valued only jsuch friends as could be bought and bound by ties of self-interest. And, like that famous politician, he would leave no stone unturned to over throw and ruin even the humblest bailiff who opposed his plans or thwarted his ends in any way.

CHAPTER VIII.

I

THE CAPITAL.

;|

Richmond was crowded with troops, officers and office-f

seekers. Regiments were being marched to their quarters as|

fast as they arrived from the South. Orderlies galloped:;:

through the streets on their errands, and congressmen ands

ladies mingled with the throng which hurried through the|

principal thoroughfares. In those early regiments gray-:::

bearded men marched side-by-side with youths and boys;

hardly in their "teens."

::

The hardy mountaineer with his trusty rifle laughed at i

the raillery of the youth at his side, fresh from the mercan-

tile counter, or ridiculed the fancy boots of some parlor-:

knight who rode, nevertheless, like a veteran cavalryman.:

Aides-de-camp, with their glittering uniforms and polished

accoutrements, their huge boots reaching nearly to their

waists and enclosing their pantaloons, dashing the Texas

rowels into the flanks of their steeds, hurried past as if the

fate of the country depended on the celerity of, their move-

ments. Cavaliers and gay young Southern girls scions of

the "F. F. V.'s" - go dashing past to view the evening dress-

parade of the brigade which had so distinguished itself at-

Manassas. As they pass the General Hospital their gayety

is moderated, the speed of their horses is slackened, and

hushed voices are eloquent with patriotic meaning.

The heroes of that grand battle are lying there, and the

groans of the wounded are heard without the building. In

the rear, stretched on tables, lie the desperately wounded, to

Ifi:-'

ETOWAH.

59

Ifgwfaom chloroform has been administered, and the scalpel of !l|he surgeon is busy amputating limbs and casting them Ipside with as much sang-froid as if these were victims of the liatoiozr, not men and youths from the proudest families of lithe land. p; Side-by-side were ranged the cots throughout the length Ipmd breadth of the vast building, and side-by-side lay pilie factory operative and the heir to a wealthy estate, each pi! private soldier, each desperately wounded ; for, in those sfgallant days of genuine patriotism, the wealthiest and the llfflost cultured were the first to enlist, and they were singuilarly free from the desire to rank their fellows, or claim prelicedence on account of their wealth. I;: The plowman left his plowshare standing in the field ;?;;the mechanic put up his tools for more peaceful times; the I: professor, the lawyer, the physician, the minister, the stu?;:dent exchanged the library for the bivouac and the battle|:field. There were private soldiers, worth hundreds of ;.;';thousands of dollars, who refused to receive any pay from ;;;;the government. s: Involuntarily, it seemed, the gentlemen of this gay cav;: alcade took off their hats, and the ladies bowed, as a distin guished looking old gentleman, accompanied by a beautiful : young girl, stopped and scanned the portal of a large buildj ing as if in doubt as to whether it was the place he was seek ing. The girl touched his arm to recall his pre-occupied mind just as the ladies and their escorts, divining the ob ject of his search, had saluted them. With native dignity : and stately courtesy he lifted his hat to return the unex; pecfced salutation, but resumed immediately his observa tions. He was seeking to~find a son who had been wounded at Manassas. The wind blew his white hair to and fro as

60

BTOWAH.

.-Nit

he ascended the steps of the hospital,armed with the neceSI

sary authority to enter. The surgeon met them at the doel

and the face of the kind-hearted physician told them thlsl

Hugh's recovery was very doubtful, if not impossible. NN|

"Is he conscious, doctor?" asked Colonel Leslie.

.ll|l|

"No, he is under the influence of opiates ?"

IN||

"Suppose they are discontinued?"

: ::|

"Delirium would ensue and, perhaps, result fatally. F<1

the present good nursing is our best auxiliary, and we hay|f|;

the best in the world here."

;|

"Let me nurse my poor, darling brother!" said Clarai;

with an appealing look to the surgeon.

;|;

"It would be the worst thing you could do for him, up

dear young lady. I appreciate your feelings, but any ess

citement now will be fatal to your brother. "

IN;

Clara sank in a chair and sobbed as if her heart wouMii

break.

INI

"Can we not see him, doctor?" asked her father.

1

The surgeon hesitated, then said: "I will not take tlj*|

responsibility of refusing, but I caution you, as you valg'l

his life, to preserve the utmost quiet; it will not be well ;|

Lieutenant Leslie recognizes you."

IN;

Then he slowly preceded them through the hospital;;

There were hundreds in that building, and the scene, amid;

the groans of the wounded and the anguish of the dying, at-;

tended by the patient care and watchfulness of those white-

bonneted Samaritans, the Sisters of Charity, was enough to;

overcome the stoutest heart. In the quietest corner, oeas;

an open window, slept two youths, one dressed in gray, the

other in blue.

;

The first was Hugh Leslie, the second Charles Barnuni.i;

the latter dressed in the Federal uniform. Had they no.ti

f;f;

ETOWAH.

61

IfInspected Hugh's request that Barnum should be rescued Iffmd treated just as he was, the excitement would have killed Iflim. Both were under the influence of morphine. Hugh's if&ceand hands were very pale, his pulse very feeble, himself livery quiet. Barnum, in spite of an uglier wound, seemed fgsjronger. Hugh's lips moved, a faint flush came into his Ifcheeks as, half-raising his form, in delirium he uttered a iBcheer. The gallant boy was fighting the battle over again. ff:. Clara, with irresistible impulse, forgetting her promise, If ;knelt at his side and kissed his pallid brow and lips, and If;smoothed the hair on that pale, white forehead very carefully ; that she might not hurt him. ;;: Hugh smiled a sweet, gentle smile and murmured feebly : 11.I "Clara, Clara, my gentle sister!" then sank into unconsciousIf ftess, If The surgeon lifted her up and drew her away in spite of fiier violent sobs which seemed about to break her loving S; heart. Her father, as he neared.the door, could only utter: ;;;;'!My poor boy, my poor boy!" The doctor told them that lillHugh's life depended on their absenting themselves until Illthe.crisis had passed, assuring them that he would warn illthem in time whatever might b i Hugh's fate. I: America had no "Red Cross"* associations during the feivil war, nor had the confederation of the Red Cross been -established in Europe at the time of which we write. The : : necessity for such an organization had been suggested by the author of "The Souvenir de Solferino," who devised a ;plan to "insiire efficient and systematized aid to the wounded in time of war," having observed the necessity of such an I organization at the battle of Solferino. Had there been .such an international organization, the terrible sufferings

*See "The Red Cross," by H. H. S. Thompson. ' '

62

ETOWAH.

of wounded prisoners in Federal and Confederate prigag||

would have been avoided.

The Red Cross knows no national or state lines, know8;fi|l

man as a foeman, but alleviates alike the sufierinp;ii|||

both friend and foe.

When the Franco-Prussian war was declared, "it wasfovtj<s|

that Austria had 2,170,000 francs and a vast supply of satp|

tary material in its possession, besides a bureau for maj

taining correspondence in eleven different languages."

No sign of the Red Cross floated over any hospital,

ambulance, or building, or tent on any Confederate bate!!;

field. The magnificent charities lavished by neutral

tions to succor the wounded and sick, irrespective of

banner under which they fought, were denied to the sspl

diers of the Confederacy. They had nothing but their ow|l

strong arms, dauntless courage, and peerless self-sacrifice!

sustain them in battling for the right of Home Rule, wi|||

which right they had never parted.

Their ports were blockaded; almost the entire adult n>al||;

population were "enlisting for the war;" no bounties we?l;

offered to any foreigners, like the Hessians of Revolutionary::;

times, who contributed their enormous quota to the ranfes;

of the Federal armies; no friendly nation lent its aid;b&l|

despite all this, the cause of humanity was not neglecte4:;;

for in every patrician household, as in the humbler

lets of the poor, noble women lent their services to

ate the sufferings of Confederate soldiers.

Affection outwits the shrewdest vigilance when the life 0fJ;:

a loved one depends upon its efforts. It was not long before

a new "Sister" was admitted in the hospital. The Mothe?-;:;

Superior had yielded to Clara's solicitations to be permittees

temporarily to assume the garb worn at the Convent of the-?;

Sacred Heart.

;:

fii:

ETOWAH.

63

1; " Sister Eloise " now wore the conventional dress, of the 1; spotless order, which has proved such a great blessing to Ipumanity. pi Nothing but a case of life and death would have justified i| such a breach of Catholic customs, but "Father Ryan," the liipoet-priest of the South, urged it, and it was done; for here I was a pure young life which might be moulded, through her I inflections, into accepting this faith and this garb for life. i: The suffering beggar, even the anathematized tramp, is 0 turned away from other doors, but when he knocks at the iii; door of "the hospital presided over by the Sisters," a voice 1 -bids him enter.
An humble cot, a crust of bread, a cup of water these at iileast he may have, and, when the morrow dawns, prayers i:for his conversion and redemption are offered up, however : ipoor his station, however humble his garb.
Hence this charity to Clara. One thing was enjoined: she i iwas to keep her face veiled, and she was required in all reiiiapects to conform to the customs of the order as if this was iiiber novitiate. ii As a Catholic, the Mother-Superior was perhaps wrong. ; ; As a Protestant, Clara was perhaps wrong. i As a Christian and human being, who will say that either of them was wrong?
For many days Hugh's condition was critical in the ex treme and without definite change. i Barnum wa,* at times delirious; at other times self-pos sessed, quiet, but observant of what transpired around him. Sister Eloise nursed these two. Barnum alluded to her as "La PetiteSomr."
His eyes would follow her graceful figure as if it was the vision of an angel soon to pass from his sight. His ears

64

ETOWAH.

:;;;:!

listened longingly to the soft tones of her sweet voice as if ;i|;;;

was divine music. He seemed to relish no food which mm

not brought to him by " La Petite Soeur. " There was somm

thing in her gentle manner and light foot-step indescribaMp;

touching. His quick ear seemed ever eager to catch th||

sound of that footstep, and his fine face would light up wiill

a glad smile whenever he heard its soft approach. ClscH

had never heard of Barnum, and, while she felt much intes|

est in one who seemed to be so much attached to Hugh, ssi|

evinced no idle curiosity. She could not understand howl;

two youths, evidently in opposing armies, should be susfiwi

devoted friends, for they certainly seemed more like brothers!

than enemies. She seemed so natural, so placid and caMil

yet withal so gentle, that Surgeon Battle did not dream thai;!

he had been so cleverly outwitted. One day Hugh suddenly;;!

rallied, and, recognizing Barnum, spoke to him, expressing;!

a desire to see him soon restored to health.

; ; ;;:!;

" Do not worry about me, Hugh; I am doing famoustps

well. My condition will depend on yours; so cheer up, rK|;

friend; I have been paroled and will go home with you soon^;!;;

Hugh smiled, then, turning his head, saw a kneeling figurs;;!

by the side of his cot; he got a glimpse of that sweet face just||

as Clara had clasped her hands in prayer, and had turnel;!;

her head to avoid recognition.

.';';:;|

" Hush I" murmured Hugh, half dozing again ; "hush, Ba^i

num.; wait a moment until I can dream again; 1 dreameis;;

that I saw my sister."

:::;:;

Hugh closed his eyes, the doctor drew near, and feeling;|

his pulse, motioned to the "sister" to sit by his side and laa;|

his brow while he was absent from the room. The crisis;;|

was now at hand. Surgeon Battle had now gone to the ante-;!

room where Colonel Leslie passed his days and nights. He had'-;;;

|i

ETOWAH.

65

|; decided to risk all upon the effects of a joyful reunion of that ;?;:Iittle family. ; By-and-by Hugh opened his eyes, looked at the sweet ; ; face bent near his own, smiled and .gently pressing her hand, : he uttered these words: " Thanff;.God, it is my precious sis!:ter Clara! Clara! Clara!" : To kneel beside his cot, still holding that thin, wan hand, ;. whose warmest clasp had ever been given to her : to caress '-.-. and kiss that face of her brother as only an idolized sister . : can all this was the work of a moment, for her intuition ; told her that the critical time had arrived. Barn Tim, leaning . on his elbow, witnessed this touchingly beautiful scene, the
pathos of which seemed to enter his very heart. He compre hended all now. Not so the others who had seen, but had not heard, and who looked with amazement at this unortho: dox conduct of a Sister of Charity! The sisters were shock: ed to see one of their Order, even though she was only a : " Novice," thus caress and embrace a man ! Silence prevaiied throughout the hall, for the Mother-Superior had been : from cot to cot urging all the wounded soldiers to suppress : .their groans. Hugh, recognizing Clara, placed his thin arm around her neck, drew her face down to his, kissed her time and again, and wept for joy!
"Send instantly for Miss Clara, Colonel Leslie," said Sur geon Battle; "the time for a reunion is at hand; Hugh will be saved or he will die in the next twenty-four hours."
"Clara is here. Let us go at once," said Col. Leslie. "Where is she?" asked the surgeon. "She has been at Hugh's bed-side constantly."

'66

ETOWAH.

;;;;!;

The surgeon understood him now. "Come!" he said. T&||

venerable gentleman, now full of anxiety, stood near lii|l

son's cot. Clara raised her face with its happy glow ajill

happier tears saying: "He is saved, father!" Col. Leslill

with assumed cheerfulness, taking his son's hand and witif

the other arm supporting his form, which Hugh, by a grcstl

effort, had raised to a sitting posture, said: "Hugh, ifijsl

boy, I've found the deserter at last and the doctor says Icass!

arrest you."

:::|

It would be vain to attempt to describe the succeeding;|

days, when all the conscious inmates of that crowded hos||

pital awaited with intense interest Hugh's convalescence*!

Clara was greeted by those wounded soldiers as a veritable!

princess among her loyal subjects; for never did an oppOR;s

tunity to say a kind word or offer some delicate attentions;

escape this pure-hearted, lovely child-woman. A week ag(>i

she was but a timid, inexperienced school-girl; now she!

seemed to have at one step passed into young womanhood!

Her figure was faultless, and grace was as natural as the iiiS!

nate refinement which characterized every word or move::;

ment. Hugh's conscious intervals were brief and rare; an<i;;;;;

to Barnum, who had rapidly improved, fell the task of!

cheering her with hopes of Hugh's speedy convalescence;!

At Col. Pierce's earnest solicitation, this young Federal so5!;;;

dier had been placed in the Confederate Hospital, a civil-!

ian's dress having been procured for him the day after Col;;;;

Leslie's arrival, that he might not be criticised as a Federal;;;

soldier. All thought he would die.

;;;

He was now so much better that it became Dr. Battle's i;

duty to report that he was physically able to be assigned to;;

ETOWAH.

67

his quarters in prison. The order for his removal had been prepared, when Hugh Leslie suddenly grew worse, and the crisis was too near at hand to admit of any sudden excite ment as the removal of Barnum would have been. The or der was therefore delayed a few days, and finally he was released on parole at Col. Leslie's request. In two days Hugh died. Before his death he was conscious for a long time, and after leaving various bequests, among them a legacy to his servant, Bingo, a negro youth about his age, Who had been all his life, as had his parents, a slave of Col. Leslie. .Then, placing Clara's hand in Barnum's, he said in clear tones: "Barnum, I am going to die yes, I am dying. No one can tell how this war will end. It may be in your power to befriend my poor sister, my dear old father remember." The sobs of Bingo became so audible that he had to be led away. The father held Hugh's left hand; to him he en deavored to speak, but the rattle in his throat proclaimed dissolution and all that was audible was: "It is the fate of war; I am not afraid to die. Take care of Barnum!" Thus he died. And far to the South, in her home, fanned by the breezes from the Gulf of Mexico, where the orange and the lemon trees meet the banner-like leaves of the banana, his lovely fiancee, read the crushing news.

CHAPTER IX.

The alchemy of time is the panacea of life,;;and Colonel;;

Leslie and Clara, after months of grief at the loss of son and;;

brother, did all in their power to make the time of the-con- ;

valescing soldier pass as pleasantly as possible.

;;

Lieutenant Barnum, a prisoner on parole, was permitted;;;;

to visit Colonel Leslie's summer home, " Intervale,'' a lovely;;

home in a picturesque part of the Piedmont region. Hiss

journey South had caused his wound to bleed anew, and he;;

had to experience the same hospital treatment again, so that;

months elapsed before he approached convalescence.

;

Now, however, he was enabled to throw his crutches aside,;;

and his conscience admonished him that he should resign;;

his office in the Union army or return to his duties as s;;

soldier. To do this meant to fight these kind friends who-;

had saved his life, and the sentiment of patriotism had & ;

strong struggle for the mastery. He had learned to appreci-;;

ate the character of Colonel Leslie as the noblest he had;;

ever known among men, and a stronger sentiment thai*,;

patriotism touched his heart with the gentlest impulse as:;

he thought of the fair young Samaritan, Clara Leslie.

;;

Colonel Leslie was standing in his library one morning.;

examining closely an image of curious character, as Barnum;;

entered to announce that he was ready to carry out an ad-;

venture planned between them, that the young Northerner;

might gain a correct idea of the practical workings of slavery,;;

"I came in to tell you that I am ready for the interview;

':';

ETOWAH.

69

; with old Zeke, though I hardly think I can interest'Our

: Brother in Black,' as Dr. ffeaygood calls the negro, " said

. Barnum.

: '--'

: "I shall be much interested, at any rate, to hear of your views as to slavery after you have ' interviewed,' as you call it, my old gardener. You will have to disguise yourself well

to deceive Zeke," said Colonel Leslie, laughing. "A new chefd'cetivre, Colonel?" asked Barnum, examining
the image. " Yes, and the most interesting one in my little collection.

It was brought to me yesterday from one of the largest Tumuli in this State, on my upper plantation. "
" That is near the river, is it not ? "

" Yes; you have doubtless seen it; it is not far distant by rail, and, if you like, we will go there to-morrow. "

" I have an engagement to go to the mountain with Miss Clara to-morrow."
" Ah ! well, then, some other day will do. See these hier

oglyphics, they seem to be Egyptian, but they are doubtless of Aztec origin."

"The 'Mound Builders' were not Indians, then, in your opinion ?" asked Barnum.

" They certainly belonged to an entirely different race. The American Indians know nothing, either from tradition or otherwise, of the Mound Builders. There are innumera ble historical links connecting the ancient Mexicans with Egypto-Indo races. Marine shells that abound in Hindoo-

stan, but are unknown here, are found in the American Mounds. We are in the habit of calling this the New World. It is certain, thanks to these earthen pyramidal mounds, that two races, as. separate and distinct as the

70

ETOWAH.

H

native of Hindoostan and the American Indian, inhabited;:;

this continent long before the conquest of Mexico. It is;;;

almost equally certain that the Indian, so-called, is the;;

more modern of the two as regards American settlement." ;;

Barnum examined the idol to which his host alluded,;

and there plainly to be seen were characters that resembled;

hieroglyphics. "The theory," he said, " is a new one to me,;

and of course I cannot express an opinion, but this ugly;

little idol does indicate that it was not the Indian nor his;

progenitors who placed them there. What evidence have ;

you as to the antiquity of these mounds?"

-!

" Go with me and see the trees of vast size that are grow- :

ing on these ancient mounds. The number of annular \

layers around them demonstrate their great antiquity. ;

Many of the trees are probably five hundred years old. But

the most convincing fact is that the skeletons found in these

mounds are often entire and well preserved, and the earth

around them is dry and compact. Now, the skeletons found

in Great Britain, having an. undoubted antiquity of eighteen

hundred years, are greatly decomposed. It is, therefore, sup

posed that the age of most of the monuments built by the

' Mound Builders' is two thousand years. "

"But I have heard," said Barnum, "that a cross was

found on the pinnacle of the ' Temple of the Sun ' at Cuzco,

and that temple was built by the people who built these

great mounds probably. If that is true it will show that

the religion of the descendants at least of the ' Mound

Builders' had a knowledge of Christianity, and yet this

temple is a very ancient one "

" Mistakes have arisen, " replied Colonel Leslie, " about

that discovery in Yucatan; also from the triune vessel found

S|:

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71

|;;:ifi one of the mounds in Ohio, which seemed to indicate a ll&nowledge of the Trinity. Really it indicates their Hindoo i;-;0rigin." I;;; " In what way ? " said Barnum, taking a seat and evidently |;;much interested. 0- "The symbol of the cross is older than Christianity, " said ;;;; Colonel Leslie. <: It was the emblem of the goddess, Astarte. H:lt was found on one of the bas-reliefs at Pompeii, and ;;; the early Christians knew that it was a sacred emblem among ::: Pagan nations. The Hindoos often wear a cross appended : ; to a rosary, and Brahma is ofcen represented as holding one :Rin his hands. The devotions of the Ascetics are still made -;; by counting their beads, the rosary being still used in Thibet : and China. The Tartars carry crosses, and the Mongols I; regard it as sacred, and it is seen in the Pagodas. Copper ;. : crosses and necklaces, of beads have been found on skeletons ; : found in American Mounds, but they do not indicate, as : many suppose, that the Mound Builders had any knowledge
of Christianity. The Temples of the Sun at Cuzco, Queretaro, ; Mizteca, Tepique, and Trianquiztepec, are celebrated for their great crosses. It is owing to traditions, then, that the Aztecs, imbued with the same superstition that made the Patagonians tattoo their foreheads with a figure of a cross, worshipped crosses in wood and stone. "
" I am thankful that opportunity has favored me with this instructive conversation. I can realize now that the Smithsonian Institute is but the beginning of American investigation "
"That is true; the National Museum should contain mummies from the caves of Kentucky, as well as from Peru and Egypt. Museums constitute the true ' Kindergarten'

72

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!!ll

for the masses. If the brain was extracted from the Kes|

tucky or Peruvian mummies by the nostrils, we kno-sp

whence their ancestors came, for it was a custom peculiars!

the Tyrians."

l|

" Well, where do you think the Indians came from ?;!;;

asked Barnum.

;;!!

" The American Indian is a different type of the Eed race!

just as the copper-colored Bushmen of South Africa dififel from the negroes of Congo, or the natives of the Queen <M Sheba's country. The books written to prove their descess!

from one of the lost tribes of Israel are refuted by a simple;;;

physiological fact: how can bearded Hebrew ancestors havs;;;

descendants who, to a man, though scattered throughout this;;

continent, are beardless ? Neither have the American IBS

dians any traditions linking them either with the Hebrews

or with the Mound Builders.

!

"A lieutenant in the United States Navy, who is a distant;

relative of mine, was with Commodore Wilkes during his;;

four years' cruise, beginning in 1839, coasting the Pacific;

Islands as well as Asia and Africa. He stated to me that;;

this subject was one to which he gave the closest attention:;;

The conclusion arrived at was that the American Indiaai

and the Malay were one and the same race, the latter having;

been changed by circumstances of time and place. The|;;

bear a striking resemblance to each other, whether seen in;

Canada, Florida, Peru, or Brazil. "

;

"lam glad," he continued, "that you take an interest in;

such subjects, because in this country investigations of this;

nature must be conducted chiefly by individuals and at;

their own expense. Our government" At this remark,

Barnum could not repress a smile, which Colonel Leslie

I;:;:

. ETOWAH.

73

if; aoticed by adding, "Excuse me; your government, I should ijiiave said; it will be time enough to criticise our governs; ment when we become independent. The Government of ?. the United States, then, has scarcely begun its investigations ;:: as to the Mound Builders. But should you go to Boston, : that most enlightened of American cities, you will have an ;: opportunity of comparing some images and vases, collected :: from the mounds on the Etowah, which I have sent to the ; Museum of Fine Arts there, with the Hay collection which : forms nearly all the Egyptian department in the Museum of : Fine Arts at Boston." : "Who was Hay, and where did he get his collection?" ! asked Barnum.
aTo answer that question may seem egotistical. While Clara was at school in Geneva, Switzerland, I visited the principal Museums in Europe, and became much interested in Etruscan antiquities and in the fragments of Egyptian art, which had been excavated in Egypt by Drovette, Salt, Hay, Belzoni and others, and by them sold for enormous sums to crowned heads and wealthy virtuosi. In the past hundred years the Egyptian galleries of European Museums were thus enriched. I became so much interested that, last year, I went to Egypt myself and found there the noblest-minded investigator I ever met. His object was not to make money, but to restore the lost links of history. His name is Auguste Mariette, and he is still there prose cuting his studies and work.
"Together we followed the line of the obelisk avenue,where he had unburied the temple ruins, thus laying bare an un paralleled profusion of inscribed stones, columns, bas-reliefs,

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.,;';

obelisks and works of sculpture wonderful to behold. This;;

exquisite specimen is from there."

- ; ;|

He had turned to another cabinet and had taken the of;-;;;;

ject he referred to as he spoke: "Now see these characters,;?

or hieroglyphics, and examine the characters on this image,;;;;

found, last week in one of the great mounds on my plants!

tion. It is made of silver ore and must have been brought;;

from Mexico. Who were the 'Mound Builders?' Why;;;

this resemblance to some of the Egyptian treasures that have;;

been buried under the sands of Egypt, perhaps, for a thous-;;:

and years?"

:;

"I notice," said Barnum, "that the palm of the right hand 1

of the image from the Etowah Mound is open, while th; ;

other is inverted; is that usual?"

:;;

"No. I never saw one like it in that respect. Zeke says;

it is held out for money, and I think th, old darkey's theory ;

is as sensible as any that can be advanced. It was probably ;:

designed to receive alms."

;

"Before I go, let me ask you how you became so much in-;:

terested in such investigations ? The subject is full of in-;

terest! but few Americans have the leisure to prosecute it,': ;;

said Barnum.

;

"Few Americans take the leisure, you mean. Of all people ;

on earth, I think our people the most illogical in their mad ;

pursuit of wealth. The daily newspaper seems to satisfy;;;

their intellectual desires, and it is only the chosen few who; : ;

enjoy music and the arts. We do not give enough time te; ;

recreation in America. The country is new, and the poorer;;

classes, especially where slavery prevails, have very few p]>-;

portunities to enjoy, and at the same time improve them-;;-;

selves."

;

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75

II: "You do not speak like a slave-holder, Colonel," said Barji&iim; "that expression sounds like'the opinion of a New lll&glander." If; Placing his hand on Barnum's shoulder, Col. Leslie said : fi'My young friend, I atn not a slave-holder from choice, and Ipere are thousands, like myself, who would be more than ipieased to live, had Providence so ordained it, where slavery jihad never set its seal. It is something for which we are laot responsible; but the welfare of our slaves, as far as it is ||a our power to promote it, is something for which we are Iresponsible. The negroes in America are but a century reImoved from savages, and yet they have progressed more IPpidly, in all that pertains to civilization in one hundred ||:ears under our mild system of slavery in the Southern ipates of America, than in one thousand years in any other Ipuntry on the globe. The slavery here is a vast improveitaent over that to which they were accustomed in Africa. 11 "It is an unfortunate system for the 'poor whites,' " sug gested Barnum. ;is- "Yes, the effect of slavery upon the social condition of the piass known as 'poor whites' here is deplorable. There is iflttle here to elevate the taste of the white laboring man, isad make him aspire to rise above his surroundings; nothiing in our cities like the Kensington Museum or Sydenham iPalace in London, or the Cooper Union and Free Evading isRooms of New York city. Of course, however, such Ilimusements would not interest 'semi-civilized negroes.'" is "Then you do not mean to have your remark concerning |ihe social condition of your 'poor class' applied to the neIp'oes here, although they constitute the greater part of your Ipoorer class?" replied Barnum.

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; ; s||

"No; for our negroes would not enjoy or appreciate ;i||

pleasures afforded to Europeans accustomed for centurigg;l|i

the highest civilization. Take Paris for example. I doisli

remember having seen but one negro while there last,:;a|f!i

my sojourn was of six months' duration."

::!lj

'I am curious to know what he was doing," said Barnt||

Colonel Leslie laughed heartily at this remark as

called the incident. "He was waltzing at the Closerie

las with quite a pretty girl, and I think she was the

blonde in the assemblage," he answered.

"Waltzing with a white girl!" said Barnum.

"Yes," dryly answered his host as he lighted a fresh ciga|;:i

offering another to Barnum.

"And were you not shocked?"

"Not in the least bit; I was amused. It was in June tw|

years ago, if I remember aright. A little incident like i

in Paris would not shock any intelligent person."

I

"Why ?" said Barnum; "it would shock you terribly;

see it done here."

"Not more so than it would shock that young negro

dent from Algiers to waltz with one of our young

girls here," replied Colonel Leslie.

: ;-;|

"You amaze me!" answered Barnum. "Why should; ifi|

be shocked ?"

;;;|

"Would you not be?" replied his host. "Would ys|

waltz with one, Barnum ?"

;;-;|

"No, certainly not. I would not ride in the same vehis|

with one!" said Barnum.

-;.;:;|

"What absurd prejudice!" said Colonel Leslie. "No SoB;||

ern man feels any repugnance to the negro per se, so long;al;;

he or she, as the case may be, knows his or her place. Ng|

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77

Ipnsider the facts: Paris has nearly two millions of people, ||pd among all that number I never saw but this one young flligroman. .He spoke French fluently, for indeed, Algiers Hieing a French Province, French is his native language. |ll8 lived in the r 'Latin Quarter' with other students, and Ills life was, in all respects, the same as theirs. Neither he ;Sor they thought of any social inferiority. His education ;pas as good; his social connections were probably the best ;|m Algiers; his nose was nearly aquiline; his manner as lijjttle like a slave's as is yours; and in nothing, except a iislack skin and woolly hair did he resemble the Congo negro.
is probable that his family has been educated for several ^generations."
"Well, I declare!" was all that Barnum could say in reply. Here was the owner of five hundred negro slaves, a cul tured gentleman, whose views as to the negro per se were as ^advanced as those of the most enlightened thinkers at the ::North. He would have willingly emancipated his slaves i:$f he could have benefited them by doing so, and could inhave received a tenth of their value in United States Gov ernment bonds, but no proposition of this nature had ever :: ;been made by the government. He was a slave-holder ; from principle as well as from right; for what would have become of his five hundred slaves if they were suddenly emancipated while all the others remained in the condition of slavery? No more helpless creature lived than the aver age "free nigger" in a country where African slavery pre: vailed by constitutional enactment. He inherited them, and all he could do was to be as kind a master as circum stances permitted.
Colonel Leslie continued: "Let us suppose that all the

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ii

negro slaves in the Southern States were emancipatectp!

order to appreciate the question fully. Now, we have fiS

millions of people in the present Confederate States,* ca

siderably over one-third of whom are negro slaves. Supps&

there were not exceeding five hundred negroes in all oa

population, or one negro to ten thousand whites, would lv||:

conduct be regulated by the color of his skin or by the reip!

tive education and contingent advantages possessed by hin;:|:

Would it make any difference to the ten thousand if the oijl?

negro should be received on terms of equality by those wEl;

chose to do so ? "

;;|

" I see the point now," said Barnum, " and I wish th:

whole North could see it. Where the two races are neariS:

equal in numbers, civilization itself demands that certain:

barriers should keep them apart."

: :::

" That is it; and, like you, I wish that the whole North:;

could realize that there is a vast difference between granting:

certain social rights to a few negroes or Chinamen say or*:

in one thousand even and in according the same rights;

where the races are nearly equal in numbers. Especially is;

this a dangerous prerogative where universal suffrage pre-;

vails."

~

.

;;

" The Northern people," said Barnum, "think that the

same results would attend the emancipation of the;

negroes which attended the emancipation of the white:

slaves in the Northern States known generally under the:

name of ' term slaves,' or 'redemptioners', in colonial days.

Of these ' free-willers ' and ' indented servants,' many, at the

expiration of their term of service, became respectable and

*The six cotton-planting States only were included in this early estimate.

.;;- .

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79

: : were absorbed in the middle class." To this remark Colonel : Leslie did not respond. ; L "It must require great enthusiasm, to say the least," sug: :gested Barnum, returning to the subject first under discus sion, "to pursue such investigations in so monotonous a country as Egypt for such disinterested purposes as you I say Mr. Mariette does." ; "Ah! there you betray, my young friend, the utilitarian ism that is dwarfing in the minds of Americans the no[ blest and most beautiful studies. Could you see, as I have
seen,a ' diligence' filled with German students, accompanied ! by their tutor, during the summer vacation, suddenly va; eated as one of the number leaps from it to gather what he supposes to be the Alpine rose amid the eternal snows of the beautiful Alps; could you hear their animated discussion concerning this flower, or that rifted rock, you would appre ciate at a glance what a world of beauty is that unfolded by
the geologist and botanist. Earth, sky, sea, air, life itself becomes larger and more comprehensive, and every atom in it of increasing interest. So it is with the mind of my friend Mariette, who designs turning, cleaning and dating every inscribed stone and copying the inscriptions, as well as pho tographing and measuring every object of interest in the ruins."
"For what end?" asked the practical young Northerner. " The truth of history. His excavations of the disputed Mound of Maskhutah, and discovery of the long-sought treasure-city of Pithom, in the language of a recent writer, ' achieved the most brilliant Biblical identification of modern times.' To Mariette the mental pleasure afforded to Tyndall and other Alpine enthusiasts by the Alpine flower and the

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storm-rifted crags was concentrated in the debris of j$8;

temple where was once the sacred place of Tanis. Obelis||

that lay shattered, sculptured blocks, lettered stones, ani

statues in countless profusion, meant for him an inspired m-mj

sage."

; ||

"And these mounds of America?" asked Barnum.

;||

"May reveal to us whence America was first peopled," aril!

swered his host. "Take the American Indian, and he rfc!

sembles the ethnic type which is to this day characteristic!

of upper Egypt. The high cheek-bones are alike in eacfc!

But the Indian has no ceramic jars and vases and bowls likP

this one; nor has he any tradition which will go to explain

by whom these idols were worshipped. His ancestors, so fail!

as he knows, had no household goods and gods."

!; ;;;

"Such men as your friend, Mariette, would find America;;;.1

very uninteresting," suggested Barnum.

.;; ;';'

"Yes, even Dickens, that master in the art of analyzing;;;;

human character, found the so-called 'New World' tame;!

and uninteresting. But Mexico and Peru would be an in-;;;;;

tellectual paradise for Mariette. Scientists become absorbed;;:;;

in their special pursuits. Hugh Miller, for example, saW;J;

England through the glasses of the geologist alone; and tb*|;

'Upper Silurian.' or the 'New Red Sandstone,' clogs his work;;;;

to the exclusion of minor but interesting details. Takes;

architecture: to one familiar with the different styles, iip

seems as a landmark as a guide through the labyrinth of

history. It stands toward the student of history n the same;};

light in which rocks and mineralogical formations do to the;;;;

geologist, or the aquatic inhabitants to the investigator infeil

the physical geography of the sea. Take, for instance,;;!

the Kenilworth Castle in England, or the Castle s

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81

i-fi Heidleberg in Germany. The Casfle of Heidleberg

fgimtained, and consolidated into one whole, eight palaces of

I eight separate princes, and of eight different epochs. The

|;ehoicest results of the best styles of architecture during four

lifiundred years are found in that magnificent building, in

Iwhich dwelt the Counts of the Rhine, the Dukes of Bavaria,

;;;the Kings of Bohemia and the Emperors of Germany. Now,

; the student ot the thirty years' war, which began in 1620, will

i-see here a castle which was four times besieged, taken and

; retaken, and twice bombarded. The manner in which cas

tles were built in those stormy days will show the character

of the people and the mode of warfare and, in a measure,

-their mode of life."

"I understand," said Barnum, "but permit me to say that

for an American "ignorance is bliss." How can one who has

seen so much, be contented in this new country which has

no ruins except those left by the 'Mound Builders ?' "

"On the contrary," replied his host, "it makes all that we

have doubly interesting. Nature is a grand instructor every

where. For example, it was a large water-lily, seven feet in

diameter, showing the peculiar structure of the under side

: of the leaf, which suggested the cellular structure of ironclads

and other large vessels. The radiating ribs or veins resemble

girders, and form many hundred air-tight cells, giving re

markable buoyancy to the leaf, a single leaf having been

known to support a weight of 400 pounds. So with the

spider's web which has suggested many valuable, inyen-

tions."

; .. ,.;-r

"That is true," answed Barnum, with the manner of a

listener. 6

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: :: ;i;

Col. Leslie continued : "It required American talent tois;

vent steam, telegraphy and the great science of the physical!

geography of the sea. Nearly all the pursuits of the humas;

mind in the old world are beaten paths, and Humboldt, tM:

master of the respective thirty sciences, found America ial

finitely more interesting as a continent than Europe. Ts|

snow-line on the Alps is at an altitude of 8,000 to 9,000 feel

above the sea, but the snow-line on the latitude of Popocafei

petl in Mexico is 15,000 feet above the sea-level. The vifl

lage of San Pedro there is 1.2,000 feet above the level of tM

sea, and nothing on earth can be grander than the glisters

ing sunset, or moon-light upon the cold summits of Popocafe:

epetl and Iztaccihuatl, or the snow-clad heights of Orizaba;

far away toward the Gulf of Mexico. To appreciate our OWE:

continent, we should first see Europe, and we will find thai;!

nature's grandest achievements are on the continent of North;

America."

"Mr. Barnum, are you ready for our game of chess ?" asked;

Clara, appearing at the door at this juncture.

:;

"Yes; I will answer for him, my daughter, for I have been;

boring him terribly for the last half hour."

:

"Not so, sir; it is the most instructive conversation I eve;-!

had," said Barnum, who withdrew to the sitting-room witisi

his fair young hostess. The smile which lighted his face as:

he heard her voice indicated that the game he was playing:

was more serious than chess, though Clara seemed utterly:

unconscious of it.

:

They had hardly begun the game when visitors were art

nounced, and Barn am sauntered forth to pursue his invests

gations.

:

In this solitary walk, Barnum reflected upon the novei

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85

i^situation in which he was placed. Though a guest in the i: home of a friend whose efforts in his behalf had cost him his life, was he not in fact an enemy? Every noble impulse counselled him to terminate his visit, even at the cost of imprisonment at Belle Isle in Richmond. He was still a soldier in the United States army, and to the cause of the Union he owed his allegiance; and yet, during his long stay as an invalid in that hospitable home, not one word that could be offensive to him had been uttered in his pres ence. He knew that the feeling of the populace generally was as bitter against the United States Government as it had been among the inhabitants of the original thirteen Colonies in 1776, against Great Britain. Georgia was one of those Colonies; New York, his native State, was another, and shoulder to shoulder they had fought for American in dependence.
Now these two States were at war with each other. ''Indeed," he said to himself, " every man's life in these days is a romance;" for in another week, probably, he would be en-route to Richmond to yield himself a prisoner of war according to the terms of his parole. Barnum's reflections reverted also to the conversations with Colonel Leslie regarding the ''poor whites" of the South, and he thought that it was doubtful if the poor whites in Northern cities were as comfortable and as well cared for as the negro slaves here. He reflected that in one ward in New York city there are 500,000 people living in 18,000 houses, and that the death-rate there was 76 per cent. There wasnosuchsqualor,and misery,and no such death-rate among the slaves of the Southern States, in any part of this region at least. He asked himself, "for what are we fighting? Is

84

ETOWAH.

;.;.;;;;

it to give these slaves that kind of freedom ?" And then he;::

thought of the remarkable fact that not more than two pet:::

cent, of the population of the Southern States were foreign-:;

born, while in one ward in his native place, New York city,-!;:

there were 64,000 Germans born in Germany. The LatanT

and Leslie families had lived in these Southern States one:

hundred and seventy years; and the history of A merica from.;

its earliest discovery hardly goes back five centuries, or;

about one hundred years before the first colonization by-;

Europeans.

;;

" Who, then, were the true patriots in this struggle be--.:

tween the States?" he asked himself, as he approached the,:

garden where old Zeke was at work.

:

CHAPTER X.
OLD ZEKE.
The old Federal road ran along the west side of the prem ises at Intervale, and near it was the garden and the house of the gardener, old Zeke. Like most of his race, Zeke talked to himself while alone at work, or sang lowly portions of hymns peculiar to African hymnology.
He frequently talked to the fowls, which crowded around him, eager to get anything which he might bestow upon them.
On the day selected by Barnum for his adventure, the old man had admitted some pet hens into the garden, " to help me rake it, chickens," he affirmed. He would dig a few spadesful of earth, carefully turning it over each time, the poultry watching him as if deeply interested in his investi gations.
" Whar all de wurms gone to, chickens ?" he asked. Then he dug again, and threw toward them the worms.
" You's all de same age you is and you kin jist fight over dem wurms; fust come, fust sarved is de rule." After a while a cock, which had been trying to get into the gar den, succeeded in flying over the fence and dispersing the hens, as he rapidly executed that political maxim, " to the victor belong the spoils," pursuing finally a hen that had not succeeded in swallowing her prize. Old Zeke raised his head, keeping his foot on the spade meanwhile, and looking around said, " What dat racket 'bout ?" Then he spied the

<3b

ETOWAH.

.;;.;;;;

cock. " Whar did you cum frum, rooster ? Git out o' here,:;::

you blasted nigger, you !" and then the old man chased the|:

contumacious rooster; now throwing'clods of earth, now al

hoe, then a stone, always missing the object of his wrathis

until his breath was exhausted. " I'll fix you yit, you triflin!::

varmint!" said the old negro, shaking his head and fist at::

the cock, which had taken refuge in the raspberry bushes::

first, and then had made its exit. There were the straw-;::

berry beds and asparagus beds, mashed down by the old fel-:::

low in his angry chase, and there the grape-vines torn down,:::

fully a week's labor, caused by the irruption of this piratical:::

rooster. As the old man surveyed the scene of confusion irt,::

this sacred precinct, which he ruled like a despot, quarreling::

even with his master if he ordered any changes to be made :

or new plants introduced without first consulting him, he:

got more and more indignant.

:

The chickens crowded around him again, and old Zeke ;

thus endeavored to console them: "Never mind, chickens, i

dat rooster '11 never bodder you no more; I 'clare 'fore God he :

won't!" The chickens seemed delighted. Then going to

the fence, he leaned on it and cried.- "Hezekiah ! Oh, Hez!

Oh, Hez ! you Hezekiah ! Come here, nigger ! " Then he

muttered to himself: "Drat dat chile; 'pear's if he ain't;

got no more p'liteness dan dan a rooster."

'' Hello! " said a voice on the other side of the fence. As :

old Zeke looked around he saw the tall form of a travel-

stained man, evidently a " tramp," dressed in a dilapidated

suit of jeans. The man held a carpet-bag in his hand and a

roll of blanket under one arm.

" Hello! " repeated the stranger.

" Hello, yourself! " ejaculated old Zeke.

!?; ;'

ETOWAH.

87

|:i " I'm tollerable ; how's your family?" . W "Four wives buried, and a huntin' of a young gal now S:;what wants ter marry sixteen chillun, ten of 'em gals, or |; worn en ruther, and fifty-two grand-chillun ; all well, thank iiije. How mout be yourn, stranger?" ;ii The stranger laughed. " You seem pretty well satisfied, :: old man," said he. ;;. " Seemin's lying, den; dat's what 'tis," said Zeke. ::: ' Then you are not satisfied?" queried the man. : ' 'In course I ain't. Ain't I wukked to death? And den :: dese here tarnal roosters and chillun what won't heer noth; in' and won't mind nothin' what dey do heer's nuff to drive ; me 'stracted ! Sartinly, I ain't satisfied. Ain't I done raised
two craps o' chillun fur marster ? And here I is, wukkin ;jit!"
" That does seem pretty hard. Who lives here, old man ?" " Why, marster lives here," replied old Zeke, " and me and a heap o' niggers." " Who is your marster, rny friend?" (Particular stress laid on the last two words). " Look-a-here, stranger, whar did you come from, anyhow? Is you from K'liny?" (Carolina). Evidently old Zeke con sidered it a phenomenon for a man not to know who Col onel Leslie was. Before the man could reply old Zeke caught sight of a boy. Now a boy is generally suggestive of broken china or other evidences of destructive powers, and the boy whom old Zeke saw was not an exception. '' You, Hez, come here to me, sir, you good for nothin' brat!" The boy came on, making faces at the stranger mean while, and Zeke resumed his conversation with that indi-

OO

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vidual. Said he: " Folks ain't what dey use was, no

Dat dere boy's nuff to drive me'stracted."

ill!

"Whathas he been doing?" asked the man.

Ill

Old Zeke paused and scratched his head to answer t;|!l

unexpected question. The boy had arrived, however, as||

relieved his embarrassment. Said he: " Hez, why didjfl!

you come when I fust called you? Why don't you mind sppi;

boy?"

Ill

"I didn't hear you," replied the boy, grinning with rail

chief as he caught the stranger's eye.

11

"Why didn't you hear me? What's yer eers made fm-?!

asked the old patriarch.

I!

" I was hidin' de pig," said the boy, showing his ivorissf

As the boy said this he dodged, and as he dodged the G|S|:

man threw a " chunk o' wood," as he called it, at the urchisg

''I'll chunk yer life out'en you, boy! G'long wid you, nip

ger, and ketch dat rooster. Ef I ketch him in here agis;|

I'm gwine to take de hide offe'n you!" Hezekiah grinneep

cracked his heels together, turned a somersault, and rag;;

back to the cabin. He had betrayed a weakness of the oM;

man's, viz., stealing a fat pig occasionally. In old Zeke%:

case such thefts were intentionally not discovered.

- ;;!

" 'Pears to be a smart boy," said the stranger.



'' Yes, he's right peart, Hez, is; but de wust chile in d|;

world!" said the old man, looking fondly at his

grand-child, who was clapping his hands to his legs, i

ing the sound of a horse running, as he ran back to the cabim

"You say your marster is unjust to you why don't you:;

get your marster to sell you ? "

::

"I've axed him to many 'en many a time ; he won't do it',

he can't spare old Zeke. Marster wouldn't take two thou>r

sand dollars fur me."

;-:

|p:p

ETOWAH.

89 -

pp::' 1Are you more valuable than the other old men?" pp :''Sartinly I is; makiri' truck (i. e. gardening) is one thing, Itjiii' plowin' an' hoein's another. Whogwine to wukk dis ere pgyardin if Zeke ain't here? Now tell me dat?'" pp "Don't the other old men work as hard as you do ?" P:: "Stranger, whar did you come frum? Sartinly not. I s'Ssforks barder'n any on 'em. Dere's Pompey; he's two years pslder'n me. He don't do nothin' but shoot crows for marsppr, an' ducks and squirrels fur hisself. Dere's Club-foot PHarry; he makes baskits in de fall fur to pick cotton in, an' ifee suns hisself de balance of de year. Dere's Gary; he don't :::tio nothin' but make horse-collars and drive de horse kyart p{cart). Dere's Gumbo; he feeds de mules an' tends stock. :::And dere's Big Dick, an' ole Mose, an' Little Mose, an' Yal;;;]er Bill, an' Step, an' Jake, an' Long Tom, an' a heap more ;:::on 'em what don't do nothin' 't all, year in and year out." p "Who feeds and clothes them ? " :::: "Marster. I say, mister, got a chaw terbacker ? " P The stranger, like all poor people, did manage to save ^enough to provide this luxury, and he gave old Zeke a quid, or, in his parlance, a "chaw."
"And yet he forces you to work ? " suggested the tramp. : "Look-a-here, mister, to tell you de God's trufe, marster ; ;don't do no sich thing. He jest says, says he, 'Zeke;' says I, 'Sir!' Says he, 'Zeke, you go down to Oswichee and live there, and I'll try to get some one else to take your place here; but I know I will never be able to find anybody what knows as much about gyardenin' as you does.' " Says I, 'Marster, you an' rne is a most wore out, we is; an' dis ere gyarden done b'long to me so long I hates to leave it.' "

90

ETOWAH.

"If he would give you your freedom, my friend,

you leave it ? "

: : ::;|

Old Zeke slowly approached the man, looked at him closeipl

and said: "Look a-here, mister, who is you, anyhow? 3!

done found out already dat you ain't none o' our kind.{ '!!

folks. Whar did you come frum ?"

'.SB

The man put his fingers to his lips in token of silence!!

bowed, and pointed to Zeke's cabin.

:|

"All right I " said Zeke in a confidential tone, "you go teg

de cabin."

if

Then he sang in a loud voice a revival hymn, workings;

industriously meanwhile, until finally he gathered up hi*!

tools, put them on his shoulder, assumed an expression ofii;

extra innocence, and continued his song until he reached;;;

the cabin.

;;:;

Arrived at the cabin, after putting his tools in a corner,:

the old negro went to the door and looked out cautiously to'.';

see if any one was visible ; then re-entered the cabin, and.';.

with a chuckle of satisfaction, slapped the tramp familiarly:;

on the back, and extended his right hand. "Glad to see :

you sir, I is. What's de news frum Mr. Washburn?" Be-i:

fore the stranger could reply old Zeke had deposited him-i;

self in a chair which Hezekiah had placed there for him,!

and almost immediately he jumped up again, with the angry

expression: "What! whar dat chile?" rubbing himself;

meanwhile as if in pain. "He's the aggravatenist chile on-;

hung!"

,

i

The mystery was soon explained. The boy had placed a ;

red hot piece of iron hi the chair just as the old man sat:

down ; and as soon as he saw how the charm worked, had ;

ETOWAH.

91

himself off, with the peculiar delight which boys feel ;;;ia having done a mischievous thing.
The tramp could not conceal his amusement. But a i;;matter of too great importance was before old Zeke now to
J any more attention to Hezekiah. :'Well, old man, I think you'll have to get your master to pell that boy," said the stranger. "Dar 'tis agin! Marster won't sell no nigger onless he .wants to be sold, and Hez. don't. He wants to stay here to iisster me.'' The truth was the old man had begged his l wmarster" to let him have the boy to "wait on him," as he ^expressed it; and he would have sooner parted with his tiand than with Hezekiab, who made life spicy for him. ?;/ ''You do seem to have your troubles. What's your iivname?" ;;;. "Zeke." :: "Mr. Zeke," continued the man, "don't you want to be ;;: free ?" ;: '"Deed I does," said Zeke, and inspired by that suggestive prefix, " mister," the old man continued : " I tell you what, : I wish I was free !" "That's my business in these parts, Mr. Zeke. I wish to : set you all free," replied the stranger. " Hi! how you gwine ter do it?" ; " Will you help me, Mr. Zeke ?" ': " Will I help you to help me? Sartainly I will." '.' " Well, you tell all the old men like yourself to meet me at Ringgold with their children and their children's chil.dren, and I will lead them to Ohio, and you'll all be free; that's what this war is for." "Golly?" said Zeke, smiling at the prospect. " Will dey

y)2

ETOWAH.

:;::::s:S

give us a]l houses to live in, an' carriages an' bosses, an': ;Sip::

gers no, we don't want no niggers. What do dey

niggers up dar?"

" No, we will not give you houses, nor horses, nor serv;is||l

but we will give you freedom, my friend." .

" What good freedom gwine to do us widout de meaMllf

'joyin' it?" queried Zeke.

" You must work and make a living," said the man.

"Hi! ain't dat what we does here? 'ceptin' 'tis d

men and women an' de blind an' 'flicted folks dey

do no wukk here. Will dey have to wukk dar ?"

" Yes, my friend, all able-bodied men must work t

We will try to provide for each head of a family forty

and a mule, for which he can pay when he makes

enough."

:;|s

" Look-a-here, Mister-what's-yer-name ? we don't wafi|

no mule to work wid. I want a bob-tail white hoss, Ufe|

marster's, an' I don't want to do nuthin' but ride him 'boaf

and give orders to niggers, like marster does. Marstsjf:

free; he don't wukk. Bill Baxter is a free nigger and-Si;

owns his own land and he ain't no better off 'an we w

'ceptin' 'tis he goes and comes whar and when he pleasss;|

" Would'nt you like to be able to do that too, Mr. Zeke?!:

" Sartainly, I would; pervidin, mind you, Marster wouldJ^

me come home when I got tired cavortin' 'round, and wouiif;

take keer of me when I git so I can't take keer uv myself;!

" Then you won't take any risk to secure your freedom!"

" Sartainly I won't! I don't want no freedom whar I g<:

to wukk at my time uv life," said Zeke.

;;;

" But the young men will be glad to make the effort, w.il|

they not?" asked the tramp.

: ;s

fp::

ETOWAH.

93

p;;.i( I 'speck dey will; de very last one on 'em ! All young MEks is fool?, white and black, 'ceptin tis Miss Clara, bless fc honey's soul!" |; -"Who is Miss Clara?" said the man. with increasing inIferest and a change in his tone. p:"What yer want ter know dat fur? She is too high qualIlly fur you ter know, but she'd meet you like she meets Everybody, white an' black, so kind-like dat dey all loves pe chile; why, Miss Clara's my young Missus," said Zeke.
;:!!!: "Is she pretty? I:: ''De angels in heben can't beat her!" exclaimed the old }m&n. !!: "What do you think about this war, Mr. Zeke?" : "I think dey kilt Mars Hugh, an' mighty nigh kilt dat iiiother young man who dey do say leastawise Mariar do say it is a Yankee soldier hisself, but I don't b'lieve it."
"Why don't you believe it?" said the tramp. ;; "'Cause he acts like de quality-folks, like a gentleman .an I don't b'lieve no white-folks kin be quality onless dey I'Owns niggers." ;: ''Does he own negroes?"
"Dat's why Mariar say he is a Yankee. But I will tell you what, Mister-what's-yer-name," said Zeke growing con: fidential again, as if he was about to impart some very im portant information, " he's gwine to own lots on 'em some ; day."
" What do you mean ?" said the stranger, leaning for ward.
" I mean he's a courtin' of Miss Clara, dat's what I mean, and she has nussed him, and rid wid him nigh on to three months. Now, mister, hit stands to reasin dat when a gal

94

ETOWAH.

ill

does dat, she's g wine to fall in love afore she knows it. Lr|;;

sakes alive! won't Mars Harry be mad den?" said old Zeli

laughing to himself

:;;!;

" Who on earth is this ' Mars Harry?' " said the man. . ;;1

" Mars Harry Latan6, who owns, or is gwine to own, 3s

place jinin' ourn down to Etowah, on de river. He'siS;

quality-gentleman fur you ! an ef he knowed what was gwis>|

on here, he'd leff his company, an de war, and he'd take ctsf

ar Mr. Barnum an lift him out'en his boots afore he couM:

say Jack Robinson !" and the old man laughed immoderate;!;

at the imaginary picture.

iil

The tramp's hat had fallen off now, also his wig, and his!

features were disguised only by the whiskers, though he diiil

not seem to know it. ''I clar to gracious !" cried old Zefel

looking intently at the man. "Great snakes alive ! ef you;;;

ain't him '." And then old Zeke informed him that he it;- ;

tended to tell his master on him, '' Onless," he added con-;:

fidentiaHy, " you kin prove to me Mr. Washburn sent yot;;

here."

";

Bamum's intense interest had betrayed him, but assuro-;;

ing a careless manner and re-adjusting his wig and whiskers,;;

he took up his bundle and departed, first telling old Zeke;;

that he would notify Mr. Washburn. if he reported him,

and asserting that he did not intend to ba picked up for an

other man. Old Zeke remained in deep thought for a fes?

moments. He was not positive about this being Barnum,:

and in spite of all his statements there was not a negro on

the estate, old or young, who would not gladly have accepted

freedom. Then he concluded he would tell his " marster"

any way that Barnum would not do as a suitor for Clara's

hand.

ETOWAH.

95

Colonel Leslie intercepted old Zeke as he was on his way > the house, and began to make complaints against Heze-

;:.'. ''I tell you what, Zeke," said he, " I've spared that little H darkey long enough, and the next time he strikes my
pointer, I intend to thrash him. I don't believe you ever do whip him." : "Marster, in course you kin whip Hez in course you kin whip me, whenever you wants to, in course you kin ! But did you see Hez strike de dog?"
" No, Zeke, if I had, I should have whipped him anyhow, but somebody has struck Dan."
"Dar'tis!" said Zeke, "dar 'tis! now marster, you is de court, and you is de jedge, and you is de jury: which one am you, when you make up your mind to whip Hez, jest be cause Mariar's chile has hit de pineter?"
"Zeke, I do believe you have got a way of looking right into me. I had made up my mind to whip Hez this time, and have come here for that purpose, but you have put a question to me, which I can't answer. Now, did you see Maria's boy hit my dog ?"
" I seed him hit your dog jest as much as you seed Hez hit de pineter," replied the old man. " I tell you what, marster, jest bekase Hez is a peart, lively critter, dese nig gers charges all dere rascalities up to him, but bless your heart, marster, dat Hez's de innocentest boy I ever seed !"
Detaining the old man long enough to admit of Barnum's return to the house, Colonel Leslie slowly entered it, but was called back by Zeke.
Barnum had returned and had taken off the old clothing which he had worn over his best suit, and was now describ-

96

ETOWAH.

ing his interview to the young ladies in the parlor,

however, any reference to Clara, or the cause of Zeke's Stis!!

picion.

'.': ;f;!|

Then they heard old Zeke's voice addressing Colonel Lfeil

lie, who was sitting in the veranda.

:||

" I say, marster," said Zeke.

:||

. "What now, Zeke?"

111

" Marster, you has been imposed on," solemnly said oil!

Fidelity.

: !l

" By whom, Zeke?"

;;1

''By a man you can't put no'pendence on a piece;*:*

white-trash, sir."

:||

" What do you mean, Zeke who has given you a dram?"!;:

'' I ain't had no dram, marster, senoe de war commenced;;;!

you's got so stingy you ought to be shamed o' yourself! ill

done forgot de very taste uv whisky. But, marster, spite!

o' your stinginess, I'll tell you how you's been 'posed 01?;!:

You has done like de man what de Bible tells 'bout; one!

cold, frosty mornin' he found a snake in de big road, what::;

was froze stiff. He Ink de snake home widhim, an warmed::;

hit by de fire, an hit bit him an pizened him !" said the oil?:;

negro with the solemnity of a judge.

::::;

" Well, nobody has poisoned me," said his master.

" Dey has tried to, sir, but old Zeke "

; :::

" Who has tried to. poison me ?" interrupted Colonel Les--::

lie, not wishing to hear Zeke's history of his faithful services!

which he had heard already a hundred times.

;!;

' Dat dere young man wat come here wid you atter Mars-

Hugh died, and what Miss Clara an' you has warmed to Iif&;;

agin I" said the old darkey.

!

;';;.;

ETOWAH.

97

i "Who? Barnum ? Why, Zeke, you are drunk. Barnum
\ was Hugh's best friend." !'.; " He ain't no friend o' yourn, marster; and he ain't quality, : marster; an he ain't fitted to cut Mars Harry Latane out,
: marster!" ;;. Then old Zeke related all that had transpired, but Barnum :'had his reasons for wishing to put a stop to his narrative be fore the old negro reached that part of the recital which re; lated to his interest in Clara. He therefore walked out on ; the veranda from the parlor window and talked laughingly : to Clara Leslie and her friends, as if he had not heard a word
;. he had said. : "I'cLirto God!" said Zeke, staring with wonder at the
unexpected appearance of the young gentleman dressed in his elegant suit of black, his easy manners, and the laugh ing eye which acaompanied the following request, addressed to old Zeke: ; "Proceed with your story, uncle Zeke; it is interesting to hear one's self denounced. But, really, I can't understand why you should dislike rne so much as to invent that story."
He only said: " 1 'clar to God, marster ! 'fore God, I don't b'lieve 'twas him no how !" and retired completely mystified. He walked slowly back to his cabin in deep thought, then went to the road and endeavored to track the tramp, but he finally gave it up, completely " out-done," as he expressed it. His boasts had already subjected him to ridicule so often that he concluded to k(-ep his own counsel henceforth concerning the mysterious stranger. But he humbly begged Barnum's pardon the next time he saw him for having mis taken him for a tramp.
Barnum informed him that his fidelity to his master had raised him very much in his estimation.
1

CHAPTER XL
MR. WELLINGTON NAPOLKON POTTS.
" Forgery is tb e false making or materially altering, wi||| intent to defraud, of any writing which, if genuine, i apparently be of legal efficacy in the foundation of a liability."
Wellington Napoleon Potts reflected for sometime, reading the above definition, before putting his pen to tiff paper before him. Was the letter he was about to write;!! "'legal efficacy in the foundation of a legal liability f" ';.||
He consulted the authorities at hand, and in one he resf underneath the same caption the following: " For it is B|| every falsification of writing which constitutes forgery i?i;|;|;i legal sense. If one writes letters and signs them with the another, which may be very injurious, not only to the feelvng^tfj some other party, but to his interests, he is not in laio a forger, if\M pecuniary rights, obligations or engagements are, or are be, directly affected by this falsehood."
That was satisfactory to this pious young man, Sunday-school class was a model in its way. He was:l shrewd judge of human nature, and he had observed t!;|| the ethics of the legal profession seemed to mean that agf outrage or wrong-doing, if " legally " committed, is legitimsti and pardoned. He had observed that the criminal is pros!* cuted by one attorney only, while a score of the ablest lepj minds are ever ready to defend him for a pecuniary confi;|| eration. His observations in this direction developed tS| fact that in the previous year the number of reported murd*l

IP;

ETOWAH.

9$

Ipii the United States was 1,266, and there were only 93 perII;Sons executed according to law, while 118 were lynched. In II other words, only one in every fifteen murderers are legally Unexecuted in the United States. In cases where forgery is lithe crime the proportion of escapes is still greater; and in ;pgivil cases generally the practice of law seemed to him to llresolve itself simply into a war on property, and the shrewdjpest and most respected lawyer to be the man who could depvise ways and means to defeat manifest justice in the interpests of the guild. " For who ever heard," he asked himself, p" of one lawyer's prosecuting another ? and how rare is it that Pa rascally lawyer is disbarred!" He had heard them browPbeating and insulting each other in the grossest manner in Pthe court-room, and had seen the judge overlook the glaring il contempt of court and dismiss them with a nominal fine and H:an apologetic lecture. The prisoner at the bar would have s;"been consigned to a cell in the common felon's jail for speakping in the same manner in answer to the opprobrious epithets ::: heaped upon his defenceless head by the dynamite lawyer. IMr. Potts had observed how these employees assume the I'manner of masters when addressing their clients; and he |laughed as he noted that prominent "pillars of the church" :;had ruthlessly robbed the widow and the orphan under the : -guise of " professional duty." ;j "Anything that is legal is right;" " might makes right," ;;he was heard to remark ; and his secret aspiration was to ; become a legal "counsellor" in this lawyer-cursed land, I where legal fees are out of all just proportion to the value S':of the services rendered. So alluring did the practice "of law seem to him, that he would have at once become a .lawyer but for the existence of war, which prompted him to

100

ETOWAH.

retain a bomb-proof place which he had secured in the office at Etowah.
Had he become a lawyer, he would have probably prominent legal Pharisee on the principle announced by M to be the basis of professional ethics> when he was ventils ing his opinions to his chosen associate and satellite, than Stunner, Esquire.
" Stunner," said Potts; " there is no doubt that most criminals have in them the chief elements which go successful lawyers."
It was a fine piece of acting when his obsequious held up his hands with an air of pious horror, and earnestly! protested, in a tone which resembled a Methodist clsss-I leader's, against this aspersion of what he called profession."
In becoming the " silent partner " of Jonathan Stunner ail his money-lending and rack-renting schemes, in the disfo|! capital city where Potts was not known, Wellington Napotea Potts had adopted the next best method of utilizing & terrors and tyrannies of the law as practiced in this couirisfl where the attorney and the advocate, the solicitor and rister are, unfortunately, united in one individual, where a dry-goods clerk may become a lawyer by six study.
The prominent sign of John Bull Stunner announced public in large letters that he was "Attorney and Counselisftl and Real Estate Agent," while underneath, in small capitals! one read the suggestive words: "Detective Collecting Agencpl; It was said that Mr. Stunner's "business " was one of the lucrative in the capital city.
Stunner was a small, wiry, tough-looking citizen, could change his facial muscles at will. He was a natxusi!

ff

ETOWAH.

101

isietor, and the stage lost an ornament when he decided to pake the legal profession as the best road by which he could
and wealth. He esteemed, as next to the Provof Solomon, the maxim: "Put a thief to catch a thief," Hand he rightly considered himself the right man in the right SJplace. I: In the presence of a modest lady, or an honest, rural citi|::zen, ignorant of city methods, Stunner's manner was tre;;.;.;mendous, so to speak. He stood so straight that his head h.lent backward and his round stomach forward, when he ;.; wished to awe such customers by the majesty of his presence. He received such people in his handsomely furnished : ;fi'ont office, which was upholstered and furnished like a bank. The plate-glass windows abounded in signs, and i everywhere one saw the name "Stunner." : \ Three female clerks were kept busy all the time, notwith: standing the dullness of trade, adding up figures in columns : on huge ledgers, and making out bills. A hoary-headed old book keeper seemed equally busy, and the passers-by won: dered how business could be so active with him, when all other lawyers, note-shavers, and real estate agents were : grumbling at the stagnation in business. To borrowers he assumed a fierce and uncompromising expression, and as they stood before the small aperture above the counter in the adjoining room over which was the sign, "Loan Office," they were spoken to by the great man behind the counter, which extended nearly to the ceiling, in a man ner which suggested that they were on trial for their lives. From his perch there he could see them plainly, through the small aperture provided, while nothing except his glittering black eyes were visible to them. But mention a trade to him! Instantly his features;::

102

ETOWAH.

-; :1|

changed, his mind seemed to bristle, and one could see tligli

he was as eager after the almighty dollar as is agrey-hougii

when chasing a rabbit. All other thoughts seemed to vanisi;!

as if a magician had moved them away with invisible wanjtl

and he seemed then to adapt himself at once to the grs|!

Lavater's ethical precept, "Limit yourself at every momehiil

if you can, to what is nearest you."

::;||

The entrance of Wellington Napoleon Potts into this ofiksl

was the signal for the most cordial welcome, and half-veils||:i

obsequiousness was prominent in the bow and hand-gra*||

with which the head of the "Detective Collection Agency":!

greeted his visitor.

;;|

For Potts was at once client, customer, patron and sileisfi

partner. For him the best chair was ever ready on his bri|;!

visits to the capital. In business matters, and in business::;

matters only, Potts did not let his right hand know whathia:;!

left hand was doing; and even his father did not know thafc:

he made investments through the " Detective Collection:

Agency ,-jReal-Estate,-Law,-Loan-Insurance-and-Notary-Pufe;;;

lie Office " of John Bull Stunner, Esq.

1

" Why, my dear sir, my very dear sir, I am delighted to sea!:;

you! Parker, here! take this gentleman's hat and cane.:;:

Take good care of them, too, Parker. Mr. Potts and I have;:

a confidential conference before us and remember, Parker,: : :

I am 'out of town ' to all who come, so long as Mr. Welling-;:

ton Potts honors the office with his presence."

::::

The old book-keeper got down from his high stool quickly;:;

and advanced to do as he was bidden, but Potts retained big::

cane, kept his hat on his head, and deliberately walked to*;;

where one of the female clerks stood writing, and looked over!:

her shoulder at the ledger. Then turning to Stunner, he said:!:

fff; '

STOWAH.

103

S;: : "Same old trick, Stunner; hasn't the public found it out P?"
ff- "No, and it never will. It works like a charm, I tell you." f;.'- The truth was that these clerks were kept busy copying : from old ledgers, and old du3-bills long since collected, whenfever business was dull. The public supposed that this was f all new business, and patronized Stunner, not because they f liked him, for he was generally thought to be a "shyster" in f bis legal practice, and disreputable socially. But he was a f goodcollector^and business came to him because he seemed ; to get more business than ali the rest of the notary-publics, ; small attorneys and real-estate agents c )mbined. The public likes to be humbugged, and Stunner dearly loved to humbug the public. But the manner and remarks of Potts threatened to lower his prestige with his employees and, therefore, he ; hurried Potts to his back-office, as he styled the room in the rear where he was wont to arrange legal matters. : The methods of this worthy, inspired by the unctious Wellington Napoleon Potts, were peculiar. See them in the dingy, dark back-room, where they held their confidential conferences, discussing the mode of collecting bad debts upon scientific and artistic principles. A smoking lamp casts its flickering glare over the dust-covered books that were placed on the round pine table to impress the humble debtor that the redoubtable proprietor of the " detective collecting agency" was a profound legal student. In point of fact, they were rarely, if ever, opened.
The conversation drifted to the events which now made war a very stern reality indeed. ."How did you manage to get out of the Union army?" asked Potts.

104

ETOWAH.

;:

"I served loyally my time; I only enlisted for three

months."

"Were you in the battle of Manassas?"

"No; I found it convenient to have a violent attack of the

colic that day and was in the hospital, where I managed to :

stay until the fighting was over."

;;

"Were you not suspected of being an imposter, and of :

shamming sickness ?"

:;

"Oh, no; hear me," and with that began a series of the ;:

most violent contortions accompanied by sounds that seemed

to emanate from a person suffering from the most excruciat- ;

ing agony, and yet that could not be heard in the front of

fice."

Potts was convulsed with laughter, but finally asked:

"Tell me, my dear friend, what induced you to risk that

valuable carcass of yours by enlisting in the army ?"

Stunner was now sitting on the table, his legs dangling

down, and his face as grave as that of a judge.

Advancing slowly to Potts, he said to him, putting his

fore-finger on the side of his nose a favorite jesture of his

"Don't you give it away, but go thou and do likewise. When

this war ends the soldiers are going to be pensioned by both

governments, if the Confederacy wins, but by the United

States Government anyway. To be sure to get a monthly

pension all my days, I enlisted on the strong side, and now

I am all heeled."

"But why do they not bother you here! How do you

manage to keep out of the Confederate army ? I am annoyed

to death, and, as you know, have been almost ostracised be

cause I will not go to the front."

Assuming the manner of a judge on the bench, Stunner

ETOWAH.

105

. Ms hand in the breast of his coat and took from the : inner pocket a package, which he handed to Potts. : "Read that, and be convinced that it is a very cold day ; when Stunner gets left," he said.
Potts opened it and read the certificate of the ConsulGeneral of Great Britain, that John Bull Stunner was a loyal subject of her majesty, the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. Potts returned the papers with a look of undis guised admiration.
"I envy you more than I do any man," he said. "I see the point: you have not taken out naturalization papers."
"Oh, yes, I did in the United States, but I have not yet become a citizen of the Confederate States, and " again the dexter fore-finger went to the dexter side of the nose, as he whispered: "And between you and me, and the bed-post, I am not going to do so, so long as there is any fighting going on."
To this sentiment Potts responded by a cordial grasp of the hand, thus making a tacit admission that Stunner had uttered the wish dearest to his own heart.
"I do think, of all the fool things on earth," said he, ''this thing they call 'patriotism,' which demands that men shall voluntarily pose as targets before deadly missiles is the est!" The conversation became more and more iree and easy, for Stunner helped himself to what he called "nerve tonic."
Hear him relating his latest experiences to Potts : "Whenever I get a bad debt upon the employee of a cor poration, I politely notify him that the paper has been placed in my hands for collection, and courteously invite him to drop into my office, as his previous engagements will allow, and settle the matter. Of course, I suggest that a re mittance by mail or express, at the risk and expense of the

106

ETOWAH.

sender, would answer every purpose. Have a drink Mrs

P^tts." said Stunner, pushing the bottle toward his gufi

and co-partner.

:-;.;|;|

'No, thanks; I don't drink anything stronger than cider,"||

replied Potts.

:;si

''Oh! you don't, eh? Well, I am sorry for you; here;!?

goes!" and, with that expressson the "detective-collector,'';!!

ignoring the glass, seized the bottle, inverted it, and drank;!

half a pint without wincing.

';;;;;

"Aly goodness i man, you will burn your stomach out with;;.?

that raw whisky won't you take some water?" said Potts, ::

handing Stunner the water pitcher as he spoke.

"Water be damned!" replied Stunner; then, wiping his ;

mouth with his sleeve, he resumed:

"Where was I when I left of! ?"

:;

''You were telling of how you sent the debtor a request to

call and settle, or send remittance by mail or express."

"A.thisown risk and expense, mind you; ha! ha! ha!"

lauahed Stunner.

"Well then, if the debtor is wise," he resumed, "he hast

ens to liquidate his little bill, and, while cursing the fate

that threw him into my hands, he blesses the unseen gods

that have brought him out again, even at the cost of the un

pardonable extravagance of paying his debt."

No one who knew Mr. Wellington Napoleon Potts in his

richly furnished office at Etowah would recognize him now

as he asks:

"Does he always tumble to the racket ?"

Assuming a serious manner, Stunner answered: "No, I

grieve to say that sometimes he is not wise, or rather ignor

ance of the painful experience immediately in store for him

makes him stubborn and rebellious; then the circus begins,

111;'.

ETOWAH.

107

tiiand all the acts promised in the large posters, and quite a Ifimimberof the performances not put down in the hand-bills, S5;:ftre exhibited to the music of a large and expensive brass lirband. The debtor, of coarse, pays all the expenses of the I::-.side show, and of the band. 1' I;.'' Potts was laughing with the keenest enjoyment, as he an-' jv ticipated what was to follow, while Stunner retained his K serious expression. ;;; ''Then," suggested Potts, "you tell him to write to me, do ^yon?" ;' ''Oh, no; the first act is to go to a Commercial Notary and ;'' make the necessary affidavit to secure a summons of garnish:-' ment against let us say a railroad company which em-
ploys our debtor as a locomotive engineer. The affidavit is made from a printed blank which, by some unaccountable oversight on the part of the compositor, omits to contain the very necessary allegation tnat the funds claimed are subject to garnishment. The bond to answer in damages for suing out a false garnishment, has also the same fatal and curious omission. The security on that valuable instrument is usually some of the negro janitors or office-boys of my ac quaintance, and the depths of their insolvency could not be sounded with the Atlantic cable for a lead-line."
"Good! capital! you'll do!" exclaimed the happy Potts. 'Go on, John, I am listening ha! ha! ha!"
Thus encouraged, Stunner took another pull at the bottle, and proceeded:
"The Commercial Notary, being usually very good-natured and invariably furnished with a skull thick enough to pro tect his valuable brains from anything short of a cannon-ball or a mule's heel, likewise issues the summons of garnish ment, which I then place in the hands of a country consta-

108

ETOWAH.

ble, who serves it in due form and with, imposing dig3i|l|

upon the railway company. The engineer smiles scornftill|

when he hears of the garnishment; he has 'been there'::bp

fore, and he immediately goes to some solvent friend a#l

gets him to go on a bond to dissolve the garnishment aa|

release his very inportant and sorely-needed wages. ArjM|

with this bond, he comes to me to find out what officer

the papers I gave; I answer, wearily, that I have so

things of that sort to do that I really cannot keep up mill

every bailiff that serves papers for me, I kindly suggest; Ml

him to inquire at the Justice's Court of the district, wheels

the case is returnable and the papers ought to be filed. Hiei|

is informed there that the papers have not yet been filed ata|p;

as they were issued by some other magistrate, he (the JQ>S:;;

tice) of course, does not know what bailiff served thetag

Then commences a tedious and, I need not add, an exaspte;:

ating and hopeless quest for the magistrate who issued th&;

papers and the bailiff who served them. In the meantime4!

the wages are held up and the victim is fast becoming desiii

perate. Perhaps he is rewarded and finds the officer, M;

which event he joyfully files his bond to dissolve the garn

ishment and release his wages, and, in his intense relief, h*s

is ready to overlook the fact that the damage-bond I gavifc

for the plaintiff is worth exactly its weight at the paper

mill."

H

The narrator's small, fox-like eyes twinkled as he ceased:

for a moment, that the delectable mental morsel mightbe en

joyed by his attentive listener, who was cracking the joiafe;

of his fingers, a method of indicating his intense enjoyment;

peculiar to him.

:

''You remind me of a cat torturinga mouse :ha! ha! ha!*1;

laughed Potts.

ETOWAH.

109

|||t!;The narrator proceeded: ''He hurries to the officer of the lltgorapany to draw his long over-due wages, and is horrified
lift find that another garnishment from another officer on
Slle same claim has been served on the company, and that pie old one has been dismissed." ii;; " The indignant railway official suggests, in rasping tones, liliat employees who don't pay their debts and cause the Company to be harassed with garnishments had better iifeunt another job. The paralyzed engineer makes another ifeondto dissolve the garnishment and starts out on the same iiiopeless rounds again until, driven by starvation and de spair, he surrenders at discretion, pays his debt, and goes iiaway a sadder and much wiser man. In future the slightiiesthint that I hold a claim against him is sufficient to make Mm remit or meet it with a promptness that would make a United States bond blush for its dilatoriness in meeting ;eoupons due." ; The pious Potts had rolled off his chair in his uncontrol led merriment, which Stunner thoroughly enjoyed while he had recourse again to the bottle.
"I say, Stunner, said Potts, wiping the laughter-tears from his eyes, " 'when this cruel war is over,' I am going to turn lawyer, if it beats money-lending, and I want you to practice law with me."
" All right, pard; then we will go halvers all round; is that to be understood ? "
" Oh! yes, said Potts, just as we do now; I lend the money and you collect ' the piece nearest the heart;' then we go ' halvers,' as you call it. By the way, Stunner, where did you learn that expression ? "
" In the army, my friend. " " Which army ? "

110

ETOWAH.

LI Ah ! now you have me; I don't exactly remember. "

It was a fact that thus early in the contest, Stunner

enlisted in both the Federal and Confederate armies,

contrived to keep out of both.

" Now," said Potts, as he received from Stunner his p

oi the proceeds of recent " deals," " tell me how you managsp;

to collect the debt that the fellow who could not pay t!

burial expenses of his wife owed : I shaved that note at f$

enty-five per cent., but I thought I would lose by it; it ^asl!

a great risk, Stunner a great risk."

: :\ :M

"That was a hard un!" said Stunner; "let me see: fig:!:

owed the undertaker for burying his wife, and I couldtvtll

reach him by garnishment in the usual style, as he did noil

work for a corporation always look into that feature, Eijll

friend; it's a heap safer to go for corporations. But this fel-lf

low had a great deal of ' human nature' in him, and one of!

my detectives caught sight of him visiting down in Etowah.if

He ' shadowed' him and found out that he was courting a|

girl and had engaged himself to her. He notified me and M;

dropped on to his racket, and found out his days for visiting!

his ' Jularky,' and, on the next day before his visit, had hfeii:

prospective father-in-law, brother-in-law, his girl,and his girl:;;::;:

mother all served with garnishments to pay into court aay::: ;

money or funds they, or either of them, held belonging to:::

the debtor, so that it could be applied to our debt, which was : :;

for the coffin and burial expenses of his wife. This last was::

written in red ink with large letters, so that you could read :

it balf-a-mile off almost. When he arrived on the train::

and went round to see his girl, the old man fired him out ai\\

the house and her brother chased him out of town with a

shot-gun and a bull dog. He came round to my office in a :

||:::

ETOWAH.

Ill

; few days, settled the claim, and we are the best of friends |:::Qh! I get there with both feet every time! " :|::{ " Indeed you do!" said Potts, laughing immoderately as |;; fie cordially wrung his hands and left the office. Such was :::: the true character of this plotter against the happiness of ;:;:Henry Latane, whose object in visiting Stunner was to con:: suit him as to the legal liability of the forgery he was about :| to commit, in order to break up the engagement between ^Latane and Clara Leslie.
For selfish purposes he "professed religion," but he laughed ; in his sleeve as he read in Holy Writ the denunciation by : the Master of men like himself: : "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees; hypocrites ye are, :': as graves which appear not, and the men that walk over
them are not aware of them. "Woe unto you also, ye lawyers, for ye lade men with bur
dens grievous to be borne, and ye, yourselves, touch not the i burdens with one of your fingers. Ye have taken away the
key of knowledge: ye entered not in yourselves, and them that were entering in ye hindered.
"And as He said these things unto them, they began to urge Him vehemently and to provoke Him to say many things, laying in wait for Him and seeking to catch some thing out of His mouth that they might accuse."
But as the most intolerable tyranny of modern times, in America at least, is executed under cloak of, and by means of the law, Potts was very careful not to subject himself to legal liability in his plottings against Henry Latane.
The crime of forgery was so easily committed, and was detected with so rouch difficulty, that it was not surprising that this unscrupulous young man should resort to it in order to undermine and destrov the influence of his success-

112

ETOWAH.

;;;;!!

fal rival. In England, such an offence was formerly pill!

ished with death, but the forger in America, if rich, has o&|fs

to take refuge on the friendly shores of Canada,, and, whSS?

punished, it is too often with as light a sentence as the Ijgi

will permit. But the astute Potts was too shrewd to ovj|l

step the limits of the "letter of the law," and what he

did was not a legal forgery, his friend Stunner assured

though the results would have been less painful to HeB;?|l|f

Latane and Clara Leslie, had he forged a check for twes^pi;

thousand dollars and absconded with the money. No pi?

cuniary result would follow it; no note involving the pspl

ment of money was to be forged.

:1;:||

A brief retrospection is needed that the reader may apprse?

ciate how Potts was enabled to successfully forge the na;ssl

and hand-writing of Henry Latane. In ordinary times slight

proceedings could scarcely happen without quick discover?;!

but in time of war it is the unexpected that is liable to hap-;:

pen.

is

His knowledge of the character of Henry Latane satisfied-:

him that that chivalrous young gentleman would remain!

at his post of duty at the front during the war, and thW

nothing short of a wound or physical disability would caxsfei

him to return home, if the quasi engagement between hitat

self and Clara Leslie could be broken.

';;;!

The reader will remember that the guests had quick!|;:

departed when Henry Latan6 delivered to Colonel Leslie tM:

telegram which announced the dangerous condition of Hugfii

Leslie in the hospital at Richmond.

:::;

The farewell note, written by Henry Latan6 to Clara Lesli%

expressed the tenderest solicitude and deepest sympathy fe

the young girl to whom he had plighted his troth. In it Sis

II:;

ETOWAH.

113

Iffiedged anew his love, which he assured her would never,

lender any circumstances, diminish.

:!:: In the excitement and confusion which followed, he could

|u|ilyhand this note to her maid, who placed it in a vase on

lijie mantel to he delivered the next day. The vigilant Potts

Iliad observed all this, and it was the work of a moment to

labstract it. The letter which he now wrote and substituted

fiftw it was as follows : " Miss Clara Pardon the indiscretion

::which prompted me to address you. Believe me, I did not

;|i'atend to do it, and realize already that it was an injustice

Njjoth to you and to myself. I have the highest respect for

;;ou, and will always be your friend, but I fear that our

Iliearts are not given to each other as the hearts of engaged

: people should be. Think no more of it, but pardon my con-

;::<jvict in seeking to bind the destiny of one too young yet to

ifenow her own mind on so momentous a matter.

:;

Respectfully yours,

;::.

."

HENRY LATANE."

:: ; The next day they left for Richmond before it occurred to ::iihe maid to deliver it. When she did think of it and sought ::S)r it, it was not to be found, and she discreetly said nothing ; about it. ::; Months passed. One day Colonel Leslie, while taking his ; letters from this vase (where Potts, in his thoughtful con sideration, had placed them, bringing them himself from the ; .post-office), found the note given above and signed "Henry : Latane." As the letter was not enclosed in an envelope, he ::iiad read a part of it before he realized its import. He then. : read andfre-read it carefully, and, nursing his indignation :as well as he could, he resolved that his daughter shoxild ::know nothing of it.

114

ETOWAH.

Potts' reflections upon this feat, while not very

were, on the whole, satisfactory.

;;||

True, if Latan6 should discover his perfidy in suppress!!

a letter full of the tenderest solicitude for the young girl w|l

had confided her happiness to his keeping and substitutt|:

instead the infamous one he wrote, he knew that swift paj||

ishment would certainly follow.

;;-;i;i

But how was he to discover it?

:ssll|

Many months would almost surely elapse before Latag<flt

would return home, and his position in the post-office;j?;|||

abled him to destroy every letter in Latant^'s hand-writii|i

addressed to Clara Leslie, and vice versa. " Long before

can meet again," he thought, "the seeds of doubt and

fended pride that are thus sown will have done their wor|;:l|

And his calculations were not at fault.

: sll

Colonel Leslie, while he found nothing congenial in flip

companionship of Potts, never forgot a kindness from aitipi;

source, and he remembered the marked consideration aspl

courtesy shown him by Potts in the hours of his deepsil:

trouble just before his departure for Virginia. Potts wspj

therefore, cordially welcomed when he improved his oprrijif

tunity by calling upon Clara Leslie, though he always asfeif;

for her father. Clara felt an intuitive aversion to his societal

but she did not know how to be other than courteous In

every one.

:::S:5

Neither Clara nor Henry Latane suspected the truth. Sfell

was cut to the heart by his unaccountable silence and ags|

lect; he was troubled inexpressibly by her failure to answslll

any of his letters.

.Ill

CHAPTEE XII.

:|p:

ON MOUNT KENNESAW.

I:::.: The appointed day for the horseback ride to the top of |;;ihe mountain had arrived, and the two young people had peeked the rapid gait by which they approached it that they pmight the better converse. p:: "-November is my favorite month," said Barnum; "you plmow it begins with one of the most touching fetes of the Piktholic church to the head of all the saints 'All Saints |l)ay"'
|P "Yes, as an Episcopalian, I knew that, but I thought you pwere a Protestant," answered Clara. p "I am," he replied, "but my parents are devout Catholics, Paid I was brought up to believe in the doctrines of that ;;.;;faith. While I am a Protestant, I revere the Catholic faith pfor their sake as well as for its own. Besides, one cannot ;;;help having respect for a church which numbers 139,000,000 :: souls, while we Protestants only number 59,000,000." ; : "Is that true? I am surprised to learn that." p "Yes, and the Buddhists number 170,000,000; the follow: ; ers of Islam, 96,000,000; the Brahmins 60,000,000; the ; Greek church 62000,000; the Jews 4,000; 000; the " .: "Mercy! mercy!" cried Clara; "you overwhelm me with your statistics; you are actually as bad as papa." : "Very well," said Barnum, "but as you got the best of me : last night in an argument, I was determined to get even to day if I could."
"So you deliberately primed your mind for the occasion, : did you? Really, Mr. Barnum, I feel complimented."

116

BTOWAH.

!!!

"Not so," he retorted, "but I have read volumes on tfeg!

subject since I have been confined to my room, and the*!!

statistics have lingered, although I have usually very lifctlfei!

aptitude for dates or figures."

;;;;!;

"How can you, a Protestant, approve of these fetes aa|!

august ceremonials of the Catholic church?" she -asked!;;;

"They seem to me to partake of the superstition of tlsfs

heathens. It is similar to the Chinese worship of idolisi!

don't you think so ?"

!!;

"Are we free from the charge of preserving Pagan ideas*!;::

he answered. "Do you not know that the name of this ver|!

month is an evidence that we do ? The same pious instinct!;!

the same noble and ignoble sentiments animated mankisl;;:;

in Pagan times as at present, and we do well to preserve sJl;!

beautiful ideas or customs. The Gregorian hymn is a Pagaal

hymn, but the music appeals to the same feelings now as 11!

did in Pagan days."

:::!

Clara's quick intelligence eagerly grasped at new ideas!;:

and she said: "Tell me about November; what were yfjp

going to say about the name of this month?"

:::::

"Only that November nov em--means ninth. Now, while!!

November is the eleventh month of our year, we have pHs!;

served the Pagan calendar, for the Pagan calendar ytim

begins in March, thus making November the ninth !

"That is a new and interesting fact to me; but I

have known it, because the French language has preserve!!:;:!;

in the same way, the Pagan names for the days of the weellil

Lundi our Monday is the day of la Lune (the mooft)!!!

Mardi (Tuesday), the day of Mars; Mercredi (Wednesday!!!!

the day of Mercury; Jeudi (Thursday), the day of Jupiter!!!

Vendredi (Friday), the day of Venus; Samedi (Saturday!!!;

I

ETOWAH.

117

K; the day of Saturn; and Dimanche (Sunday), the day of iRDieu (God). I learned that much, at least, at school." if, Barnum smiled at the naivete with which she related these ;: ; facts that are familiar to every school-girl; for every lan: guage, probably, accounts in a similar way for the days of ;: the week. There was in Clara's character a mingling of :;;: the innocence of childhood with the unusual knowledge ;: which foreign travel gives to the mind that he had never ; : known before. The study of her character was to him an :: open chapter of pleasing surprises, brightened by wit and ;: merriment. i; "What are you smiling at, Mr. Barnum ?" she asked. "I :; don't like to be laughed at." : "It was not in ridicule, Miss Clara; I was only thinking
of a delightful scene which I saw while walking in the vil lage last Sunday. A gentleman was walking with his little girl, who seemed to be three or four years old; her manner and yours were somewhat alike, as you replied just now, as if to say : 'I have found a fact and am going to grasp it.' " ; "What was my little prototype doing?"
"She was trying to catch the shadow of her father as he : walked between her and the sunlight. One moment she : stood with expectant air as he moved forward, telling her
that he was going to hold it down with his foot; then, as it evaded her, she darted forward to catch the fleeing shadow; and then suddenly she stopped, half in inquiry, half in explanation, as she traced the shadow to its substance. I would give a great deal for a photograph of the swiftly changing emotions pictured on the face of that little inno cent," said Barnum.
"And you would compare me to a little girl three years

118

ETOWAH.

;;;|;|

old, would you ? You think I am as simple as a child, i$||;

you?"

ill

There was pretended indignation and coquettish gratifies!!

tion in her tone and manner, but Barnum was equal to t&g|:

occasion, for he answered:

;:::!

"Oh, no; I think you are wise beyond your years f|g|

most womanly girl I know but you are as guileless a ||

innocent as that little child."

-;||

The woman who is proof against such agreeable and weifel

timed flattery as this has yet to be born. Clara, at all

agents, was not, for, holding her hand toward him, she snap!

ingly said: "I will have to forgive you, after that prett*|

speech."

;|s

They rode for a short time without speaking, but final]?: s

Barnum said: "I don't know why I should have thought!

of Catholic customs to-day, unless my mind unconsciously::

turned to the time when I first saw you as an embryo Sisters:

of Charity."

::|

"That remark reminds me of a very dear friend of minf;|

who has become really, and I think forever, a Sister of Cha?-i

ity. You should have known her, for she was my poos;:::

brother's fianc e at the time of his death the sweetest t&K?&

pered, best and truest girl I know is Nathalie Blanc." Then,::::

pausing a moment, she added: "There is something abowp;

the falling leaves of autumn that recalls to me the lovesi

ones that have fallen."

::|:

They had reached the summit of the mountain as thill

speech was uttered, and Barnum aided her to dismount. :M

It was the afternoon of a splendid day, when the varied:;;

colors of spring seemed united to the golden yellow of as-1

tumn. Advancing to the edge of a precipice, they viewecf::;

the landscape.

::|

||

BTOWAH.

119

;:::: :Bamum had fully recovered from his wound, and was evi-

lideatly more interested in his fair young companion than in

iipjre scenery.

|;,- "What are you thinking of, Miss Clara?" said Barnum,

lifter a few moments' silence.

| "Strange to say, I was thinking of a quotation, and won-

lidering whether the poet was right in thinking spring the

illoveliest of the seasons."

:| "What is the quotation which can take your mind from

: this beautiful view ? I think 'Indian summer'is the love-

:: liest of the four seasons," he replied.

' ! "It does not take my mind away from it; indeed, the

: quotation was recalled by it

:

'O Primavera, gioventu dell natura,

:

O gioventu! primavera della vita,' "

-; she answered.

: "That sounds beautifully; what is the sense of it?"

;:

" 'Oh! springt-ime, youth of fair nature,

::

Oh, youth! spring-time of life,' "

: she answered, then asked:

"Do you understand Italian ?"

; "No; where did you learn it 1"

"I studied Italian in Italy; we lived there a year the

; year before we lived in Switzerland. You know I call

; Geneva my European home. My father wanted me to learn

French and Italian, so as to read and speak it fluently. The

: sentence conveys a beautiful idea, I think."

; "So do I. Did you ever read a novel in that language ?"

"Oh, yes, indeed; and the best one, I think, is 'Doctor

Antonio.' The author wrote it himself in English, French

and Italian, the latter being his native tongue, and it is a

classic in each."

120

ETOWAH.

::::!!

"I quite agree with you, for I have read the English 11

sion. Don't you think European novelists have greatly tgf!

advantage of our American novelists?"

!!1

"I had not thought of it, but since you have suggested :j|l

I will say that I do. There is no room for a Thackeray: ;jf|;

Eepublican America, where there is no aristocracy, but ''$%

have a Dickens already."

:::a|i

"And who is he?" queried Barnum.

H;H:|

"Bret Harte," she answered.

::s|

"Who is the author of the quotation you have just: :a!|

tered, Miss Clara?"

ill

"I do not know. I heard it quoted first by my teachgzpj

Madame R., with whom we made the ascent of the Voir<J!i||

which, DeSaussure says, offers the finest view among tlsll

Alps ; and whenever I see a beautiful mountain view it TS-|

curs to me."

::::!

"But is not the effect of seeing those grandest scenes |1

nature to render insignificant our little mountains here ?fiU;;;;|

"Oh, no! Do you know I have a fancy that a beautiS;];!

view, if you really enjoy it intensely, as I do, is never lo^ipi

and each successive landscape adds to that which precedi-||i

it ? And then, Mr. Barnum, these 'little mountains,' as yi|!

call them, are ours."

::;S|;

"That's a new idea," said Barnum; "your look, tone, gesi!!

ures, all seem to imply, as you gaze at yonder distant blws

range, that they are your individual property."

-M

"And they are! Put into the soul of the humblest af!

God's creatures an appreciative taste of 'The True, tJi&s;

Beautiful, and the Good,' as Guizot expresses it, and place!

them on any mountain in one's native country, and wh^s:

can rob him of his appreciation of the glorious sky, and Sf%s;

and lake, or wood?"

;;;;<

I;;;;-.

ETOWAH.

121

::::: "But why couldn't you feel the same sense of appropria tion amid the Alps?" ; ;;:: "Oh! Mr. Barnum, I don't know how to answer you, but !;1 did'nt. I could only feel the insignificance of all human : ; I hings there. I can see them now Mont Blanc and many ::lesser monarchs that pierce the very skies the sunset glow :on their icy peaks resplendent as burnished gold, and a ^thousand times finer than any painting! Then follows the \\-re-glow illuming the snow peaks with all the colors of the ;-:;prism, and far more beautiful than the sunset itself. I have ;:never seen this re-glow except amid the Alps."
"You certainly are an enthusiast in your love for beauti; : ful scenery," said Barnum. : , "I confess that I am," she replied. ''I think with Victor .Hugo that the study of nature detracts in no degree from the successful pursuit of the practical things of life; that : the spirit which knows how to be free and winged with the : birds, perfumed among the flowers, mobile and vibrating amid the waves and the trees, elevated, serene and peaceable :smong the mountains, knows also when the hour comes, ; ;aud better perhaps than any one, how to be intelligent and eloquent among men." .: Then, after a brief silence, during which Barnum was contemplating the expressive face before him instead of the scenery, as her very soul seemed interpreted by her animated features, she continued:' ; " Mr. Barnum, look there! " From the rocky heights the : eye sweeps over valleys, while lower mountain spurs trend :far away until they melt in the horizon. "How beau tiful that view is! But it is much finer than this," she added, "at Dahlonega; the isolated peaks there rise in sep-

122

BTOWAH.

.:; ;;;;!

arate groups like the far-famed Saxon-Switzerland. I thia||

I can see the Dahlonega mountains over there."

;;1|

" Do you know that you look like Murillo's Madonna, wilfI

your hair all falling loose that way ? " he asked, unmindful!

of the beauties of the landscape.

: s;||

" Fiddlesticks! You haven't a particle of sentiment, <s||

you would at least refrain from making allusions that speiil

mine."

;!!

" Pardon me; you are mistaken; my trouble, I fear, is tbsll

I have too much sentiment, and I am greatly tempted tep

give it utterance."

: ; :;:f

The scene and the occasion certainly seemed propitious;s

The air was redolent with roses and flowering shrubs, laug&l

ing at autumn and tossing sweet blossoms to the amorous;:!?

breeze on this vernal belt which clothes the rim of theses

Southern mountains with perpetual verdure.

M

The young soldier's convalescence admonished him that?;:;;

it was his duty to report at Richmond and resume his plaesi

as a prisoner of war until he could be exchanged. Durings

the months of his daily association with Colonel Leslie's:::;

household, Clara's cheerful voice, as she read or talked to thg:::

helpless invalid, had become the sweetest of sounds to him;;;;

and her gentle smile thrilled his heart with happiness^:::

Clara did not dream of his infatuation; it had not occurred:::

to her that Barnum would be a suitor for her hand. To him;:::

too, the idea was surrounded with difficulties, but long age;::

he had surrendered his heart to her in his secret thoughts::

His sense of honor told him that the war itself was an IE-::

surmountable barrier if he returned to what his conscience::

told him was his duty, the prosecution of the war for the::

restoration of the Union.

f:

ETOWAH.

123

:;;:; A question from his unsuspecting companion brought him :;;;to his senses again. : i "Mr. Barnum, you have told me that you once lived here a i;x.short time, and left to enter the Northern army; were you ||:7er on this mountain before ? " ;: "Ob, yes, frequently; we used to come here to get cedars ifwith which to decorate the ball-room at the Military Insti tute for the commencement ball. By the way, it is just over :::ihere," pointing as he spoke in the direction of the Institute, h:" We had a gay time there. No ball can compare with ha cadet ball during commencement week." : Clara had been occupied, meanwhile, in gathering fern : leaves and flowers, and she appeared for the moment to be ^oblivious of everything else. The wind had blown her hat ;;from her head, and her thick, luxuriant hair becoming un:confined reveled in disorder. It was fairer in his eyes, as he ; had stated, than the chevelure of Murillo's Madonna. Rich ;;color mantled her cheeks, and her graceful, lissome figure : never appeared to better advantage. There was an air of : coquetry about her, which seems as natural to pretty women : as the air they breathe, and Barnum recalled mentally the various characters in which she had enacted a part, and in all of them had seemed to him to be a heroine.
Now, filled with enthusiasm inspired by the lovely scenery and bracing air, she seemed the incarnation of feminine co quetry, free from all the ills and all the cares that flesh is heir to. He had never looked at her so intently before. His very silence was unusual, and there was a sad, wistful, earnest look in his eyes which she had never before noticed. The sun was melting into splendor, as all the colors of the : prism seemed to glow in the western sky. i " Mr. Barnum, I don't wish to be inquisitive, but may I

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ETOWAH.

aSsokuytho?u"to. relate to me your feelings when you left t ';
" Miss Clara, there is no wish on earth which you could! utter which would offend me. I owe my life to your un-:; ceasing care. There is nothing which could give me so; much happiness as to feel that I could contribute to yottt; enjoyment or happiness. Sit down here and I will tellyos; of the greatest trial of my life except one," he added, loop ing at her sweet young face upturned to his with all a girl's interest in some interesting revelation about to be made. ;
There they sat on a rock near the summit of the Kenne saw, while he simply narrated the following incident: ;
" A wealthy young Texan named Moyer had been chosen as captain of the ' Raccoon Roughs,' a military company raised in this vicinity. He was a member of the Senior class and we gave him a farewell banquet. In two months I would have graduated, and I intended to remain until after that event, as the first battle had not then taken place, and I hoped that peace might be maintained. Moyer's in timate friend was a youth named Latane1 " Clara started with surprise as she heard this name, but Barnum did not notice it and continued "a chivalrous, gallant fellow, full of enthusiasm, who, like the rest, was burning with ardor to resist the ' invasion of his country,' as he termed it. A stone loosened from its place here where we sit will bound down the mountain side, leaping from cliff to cliff, from precipice to precipice, crashing great trees in its course, until its course is run. A tiny ball of snow gathers strength and volume as it rolls over and over in its impetuous course, until 'tis merged in the mighty avalanche which cuts down trees and plants, and sweeps all before it, a very besom of destruction. The war spirit of those youths was

H; :

BTOWAH.

125

!;; like the stone and the avalanche: nothing could moderate it. : : The demon of Discord was at work, and ah! so cheerily. ; :From the press I learned that in every city, town and vil; Jage beaming lights signalled the great event. ' The South
ern Cross lighted the sky,' said one paper. Impulsive hearts caught like tinder, and a mistaken patriotism glowed like a flame! Men, women and children caught the infection of enthusiasm which spread from city to city and from State to State until seven States had seceded. Think of it! 2,700000 whites, who undertook to control a population of 2,300000 blacks, and defend a territory of 564,000 square miles against 85,000,000 whites with Europe as a recruiting ground! A people who had not one vessel and no arsenals or manufacturers of arms against one of the maritime pow ers of the world! It was the wildest folly! I thought so then; I think so now. After many toasts and college songs, Latane, rising with the glass filled to the brim, proposed: ' The Confederate Flag! Long may it wave! Down with the Union!'
"The guests arose as one man, with one exception, and drained their glasses. The one exception was captain of Company C, a native of New York. He was also an as sistant professor, which was the highest academic honor. At his side sat the Senior Cadet Captain, Blount, the noblest fellow I ever knew."
Barnum paused for a moment and pointed to the descend ing sun.
"Go on, " said Clara; "father knows I am with you, and hence will not feel uneasy about me. "
Barnum smiled and continued : " Latane noticed it first, and added a hot-headed speech about ' skulkers,' and those who sought ' bomb-proof places.' Blount arose to reply, for

126

ETOWAH.

Latane was his best friend, and he wished to check

time. I motioned him to sit down, and, with my glass

untouched, replied to Latane. I stated that iny native S^||l

had not seceded, and I hoped it never would! I added ill!!

I honored their determination to go with their States asil

fight for that which they thought was right. I stated

intended to do likewise, and would tender my sword i

fense of the Union. I-left the next day with Tom Mo

Company and, passing through Richmond, went to if

York. My subsequent history you know. I will add

Henry Latane was the first to grasp my hand, and

proposed a toast in my honor, to which all cordially

and we .parted more like brothers than enemies; I never feiil

nobler friends. "

ilil

Clara had listened to this recital with unflagging interesi^H

an interest all the greater because of the allusions.;iilll

Latan6.

iiill

" You said there was a trial greater than that severances!

college ties and friendships?"

-;il;tl

" Shall I tell you what it is ? " he said, as he looked igll

her face with a pleading, earnest look. She did not regisp

and Barnum continued : " But for you, Miss Clara, I waeiii

have died in the hospital; but for Hugh, upon the ba*|lg|

field. I used to think, before I knew who you were, th&l:t|

was worth getting desperately wounded to see this lov^||

nurse; and often did I lament the garb which told me th:s!

even if I could win your love, you had placed an eteraSl

barrier between us when you entered the convent. I u*ei;

to spend my hours in thinking how you could be reseae||

and returned to that world which you are so fitted to adorjp

Indeed, you are too sweet, too lovely to be a nun! "

;:|

This was said in a simple, manly way the honest eipt

ETOWAH.

12?

fsnarmg of a grateful heart warmed to enthusiasm by scene, lirae and circumstances. Clara, divining with feminine inIfiition what was to follow, sought to change the conversa:tea by asking: "And now, Mr. Barnum, will you return ;|fr the army again ? " ; :" That is what tries me; that is the greatest trial of my fiia It is my duty to return and fight in support of my con-
, but when I think that my sword will be turned my benefactors, my saviors; against those whom jjou love; against you whom I love with alt the earnestness, SU the tenderness of my nature more than life itself I esitate." :;; 'The trembling tones of his voice and his impassioned tjiaimer left no ground for doubting his sincerity. ;/ The announcement was so unexpected, and it seemed so ingular that two strong and valiant men should ask her pinion in a matter of so much moment, and each do it at the time that he declared his attachment for herself, that :Clara was overwhelmed. Too sincere to trifle with the afiecions of such a man as this young Northern officer had proven simself to be, too fearless in her purity to dissemble, she, seting on the impulse of the moment, said: ''Do not ask me, but follow the instincts of your own heart. If I were a man I would scorn not to be a soldier at this time. But I cannot appreciate your feeling of loyalty to the old Union. But, Mr, Barnum, go where you will, you must always feel that ray poor brother's friend is very dear to us. I know that you will never do anything dishonorable, and try to think of me as of a relative whose interest in you is second only to that of your parents." She ceased, surprised at herself. Her hand was placed unconsciously upon his arm, her speech ;>Yas as earnest as his, and yet the one expression which he

128

ETOWAH.

; !!!!!l!l

longed for was absent. Taking her little hand in his stroiiipl

nervous clasp he held it a moment, looking the while mill

the very depths of her pure, honest eyes, then bent low hill

head and kissed, kissed reverentially, that hand which lap!

unresisting in his own.

:1|

Superb self-control, buoyed by self-esteem, animated thesl!

two young people.

: : ::||

"It is time that we returned," said Barnum; ."I see thaif

lights in the village, and I would not have your father thifill;

that I had intentionally abused the last evening I specif!

under his hospitable roof."

\m

"Surely you are not going away?"

;!;!!

The agitation which Clara displayed as she asked thjfl

question was like an elixir to his hopes, but it passed awa|i

in a moment as his better nature re-asserted itself. Even ifl

he could induce her to confess that the attachment was!

mutual, did he have the right, as an honorable man, to dp!

it? Should he, the avowed enemy of her country and-ofsi

the cause for which her idolized brother had yielded lies

young life, should he ask this?

.:;;:;.;;;

The whole solemnity of the subject rose with prophetic!!!

clearness before his vision, and, curbing all that he longest!!

to say, he said: "Yes, I will leave to morrow; it is not hoipl

orable for me to remain longer. I owe to your dear fath<p!

my immunity from prison thus far, and now I am well aisst;!

strong, and I shall return at once to Richmond and take lit*:

place until duly exchanged.

.::.;;?;

But, Mies Clara, for the last time perhaps on earth we:;:

are alone together, and I must speak freely. I would H|;|;

have you pledge me your love if I had won it, which I seel

I have not, but you must always remember that I love yisp

as I love no one else on earth. I see that it is hopeless;*!?

I:;' W

ETOWAH.

129

I expect a return of such, love as I feel, but I can never look sspon you as a mere relative. Even, if you loved me it would ;:;|8wild, foolish,.wrong to indulge it, for this dreadful war prill lead our lives apart." i: She could not answer him, but her agitation and her ina bility to say a word as they rode slowly homeward left a ;'thrill of hope in his breast that he dared not express.

CHAPTER XIII.

;;I!

THE SLAVE MAKT.

;;;||

The day before Barnum left this hospitable home to delrm|i

himself as a prisoner at Richmond, a conversation with Gs||

onel Leslie as to the cost of emancipation and the evils irsell

dent to the separation of families made him eager toperse&i;

ally witness a public auction of slaves. Richmond contaiBgfjf

the only regular auction mart of this kind in the South, ais!!

it was an easy matter for him to gratify this curiosity,

could never be witnessed again if emancipation

reality. In that conversation Barnum said : -

:!!

'' It will be a great financial loss, then, if emancipatress:

shall result from the war."

;;;||

" Yes, as a matter of course, and the war will determine!

that. Take any part of the New England States, the nurserp

of abolitionism, and so arrange the territory as to esp:

brace eight millions of people; then take away from the sill!

cumulated savings of the most industrious and thrifty Ifl

her people over two thousand millions of dollars by tlsll

stroke of a pen, in what condition would it leave them?":!;!!

" It would convert it into a wilderness, because the peoplll

would abandon it and go West," answered Barnum.

rs!

" Precisely; and yet that is exactly what the abolitionisJii

propose that we shall do. The issue is made up, and neittelf

you nor I can avert the consequences. Each of us must as!

as his conscience shall dictate. But do not be deceived Ijp

public clamor. Bear in mind what the Democratic convesH;

tion in Indiana has just unanimously demanded that ' f;l;||

ETOWAH.

131

authorities of Indiana shall see that the Constitution laftd laws of the State are enforced against the entrance of fifree negroes and mulattoes;' declaring that ' when the peolijple of Indiana adopted the negro exclusion clause in their s ^institution by a majority of ninety-four thousand votes, lihey meant that the honest, laboring white man, and that she alone, was suited to the form of their institutions.' i; : "To appreciate the full force of the demand made upon j! the South, you must know that the money value of our slaves ; is greater than all the mills and factories and railroads in the S-United States combined. But be that as it may, the South i;: ;has staked all upon this war, and if we lose we will not ;;;.grumble about what cannot be helped. The cost of war is :: ;aiways borne by the defeated country." His tone and man;-; ner indicated very clearly that he had no doubt about the :; success of the South. ;:;. " How long have you been a secessionist, Colonel?" ": "Ever since the promulgation of the so-called 'higher slaw.' But the first advocacy of the constitutional rights of ::^{ie States to dissolve the Union when it ceased to protect :: taeir interests came from the foremost abolition State, the s^Jlate of Massachusetts." !! "Indeed!" said Barnum; "I never heard that before. i^Who suggested it?" ;: "A statesman and a gentleman for whom I have the high: est respect. In 1844 he introduced in the Massachusetts s Legislature resolutions which were passed by that body re;; specting the annexation-of Texas. He had declared therein, N'just as Josiah Quincy had declared with reference to the acspisition of Louisiana, 'that the power to unite an indeSi'pndent foreign State with the United States is not among s;tiie powers delegated to the general government by the Con-

132

ETOWAH.

-^1.....

stitution of the United States.' He declared further tfca||l

the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, faithful to the compSlll

with the people of the United States, according to the pMi|;|;

meaning and intent in which it was understood and accec1g|||

to by them, is sincerely anxious for its preservation; and tlsa||;l

it is determined, as it doubts not other States are, to submit ||||

undelegated powers in no body of men on earth; and tisa:|||

the project of the annexation of Texas, unless resisted on ti)|lf

threshold, may tend to drive these States into a dissolution

of the Union." Colonel Leslie had read this extract frora;J||;

slip which he had taken from his pocket-book. " I caxf|l|

that about with me now," he said, " that I may have Sip!

proof at hand whenever the subject is discussed in Hip!

presence." This habit caused Judge Bearing to call him;!!;

"walking encyclopedia."

:::||;

" The great misfortune, my young friend, is'that the poliSi||;

cal leaders of both the North and South have allowed pssl!

sion to master reason, and are willing to plunge this countrp!

into a bloody war rather than make mutual concessions. ';;!!

" When the doctrine of an ' irrepressible conflict' was assf

nounced, the gauntlet was thrown down. When this, tsj||

native State, passed the ordinance of secession, I felt, likil

the Massachusetts statesman, that she had exercised hs|

sovereign right and loyalty bade me obey.."

,:::!

Colonel Leslie's remarks concerning slavery lingered ia|

Barnum's mind as he proceeded northward.

;;!;

Animated by a spirit, of adventure, and knowing that Ms

would never be able to witness such a scene again if th.s|

Union armies triumphed, Barnum strolled forth the day aftefi:

his arrival in Eichmond, to find a slave-auction house. 41

public sale of slaves was a rare spectacle in any other Southern;:::

State, but the exposure of ordinary goods in a store was oof

||:: :;;

ETOWAH.

133

fljidre open to the public than were the sales of slaves in I Richmond. By consulting the local newspapers Barnum |;)earned that the sales took place every morning in the offices i;;;j*f certain brokers who purchased or received slaves for sale Nisn commission. :: ; ; Where the street was in which the brokers conducted their ;:'?>usiness he did not know, but the discovery was easily ;::made. Rambling down the main street in the city, he found I that the subject of his search was a narrow and short thor oughfare turning off to the left and terminating in a similar : cross-thoroughfare. Both streets were lined with brick f houses. Looking about, he observed [the office of a commis: sion agent, and into it he stepped. It was a large shop with ; two windows and a door between; no shelving or counters .inside; the interior a spacious, dismal apartment; the only ;.-furniture a desk at one of the windows and a bench at one -/side of the shop three feet high, with two steps to it from the floor, This dismal-looking place had nobody in it but three negro children, who, as he entered, were playing at auctioneering each other. An intensely black little negro of four or five years of age was standing on the bench, or ; block as it is called, with an equally black girl about a year younger by his side, whom he was pretending to sell by bids to another black child who wag rolling about the floor.
Barnum's appearance did not interrupt the merriment. The little auctioneer continued his mimic play, and appeared to enjoy the joke of selling the girl, [who stood demurely at his side.
" Fifty dolla for de gal fifty dolla fifty dolla. I sell dis here fine gal for fifty dolla," was uttered with extraordinary volubility by the woolly-headed urchin, accompanied with appropriate gestures in imitation, doubtless, of the scenes he

134

ETOWAH.

'l;lll

had seen enacted daily on the spot. Barnum spoke a fe;:|

words to the little creatures, but was scarcely understood;!;

and the fun went on as if he had not been present; so Ml

left them, happy in rehearsing what was likely soon to Isi!

their own fate.

::::!!

At another office of a similar character, on the opposnfl

side of the street, he was more successful. Here, on inquir*!!

he was respectfully informed, by a person in attendance,;;!

that the sale would take place the following morning at ha:':ll

past nine o'clock.

.

!:!:;;

Next day he set out accordingly, after breakfast, for tfjgl;

ycene of operations, in which there was now a little moral;

life. Two or three persons were lounging about, smokift|!

cigars, and, looking along the street, he observed that trass!

red flags were projected from the doors of those offices ill

which sales were to occur. On each flag was pinned apieegl

of paper, notifying the articles to be sold. The number oil

lots was not great. On the first was the following announce;-!

ment: "Will be sold this morning, at half-past nine o'clock!:

a man and a boy."

:;;S

It was already the appointed hour; but as no compaLM:

had assembled, he entered and took a seat by the fire. The:::

office, provided with a few deal forms and chairs, a desk st!

one of the windows, and a block accessible by a few steps.!

was tenantless, save by a man who was arranging papers at;;

the desk, and to whom he had addressed himself on tl!;

previous evening. Minute, after minute passed, and stijt!

nobody entered. There was clearly no hurry in going fell

business. He felt almost like an intruder, and bad formes!

the resolution of departing in order to look into other offices,;;

when the person referred to left his desk and came and;;;

seated himself opposite to him at the fire.

:i:

;::; : ;

BTOWAH.

135

0;: :.- "You are an Englishman," said he, looking steadily in JNBarnum's face; "do you want to purchase?" :/ "Yes," he replied, "I am an Englishman; but I do not in: tend to purchase. I am traveling about for information, :: and I shall feel obliged by your letting me know the prices ;. at which negro servants are sold." : "I will do so with pleasure," was the answer; "do you
mean field hands or house servants ?" :- "All kinds," replied Barnum; "I wish to get all the in
formation that I can." With much politeness the man stepped to his desk and
began to draw up a note of price?,. This, however, seemed to require careful consideration, and while the note was pre paring, a lanky person, in a wide-awake hat and chewing tobacco, entered and took the chair just vacated. He had scarcely seated himself when, on looking towards the door, he observed the subjects of sale the man and boy indicated by the paper on the red flag enter together and quietly walk to a form at the back of the shop, whence, as the day was chilly, they edged themselves towards the fire, in the corner where Barnum was seated. He was now between the two parties the white man on the right, and the old and young negro on the left and he waited to see what would take place.
The sight of the negroes at once attracted the attention of Wide-awake. Chewing with vigor, he kept keenly eyeing the pair, as if to see what they were good for. Under this searching gaze, the man and boy were a little abashed, but said nothing.
Their appearance had little of the repulsiveness we are apt to associate with the idea of slaves. They were dressed in a gray woolen coat, pants and waistcoat, colored cotton

mm

136

BTOWAH.

neckcloths, clean shirts, coarse woolen stockings, and i

shoes. The man wore a black hat; the boy was

Moved by a sudden impulse, Wide-awake left his seat, a

rounding the back of Barnum's chair, began to grasp at i

man's arms, as if to feel their muscular capacity. He

examined his hands and fingers, and, last of all, told hiia;is|;f

open his mouth and show his teeth, which he did in a sufell

missive manner. Having finished these examinations, Widest

awake resumed his seat.

! i'ilj

Barnurn thought it was but fair that he should now hayl!

his turn of investigation, and accordingly he asked the elde|

negro what was his age. He said he did not know. Hs;|

next inquired how old the boy was. He said he was sevesU

years of age. On asking the man if the boy was his son, hi-

said he was not, he was his cousin. He was going infe;.;;

other particulars, when the office-keeper approached ami;;;:

handed him the note he had been preparing, at the samf

time making the observation that the market was dull at-;;;

present, and that there never could be a more favorable op-;;;

portunity of buying. Barnum thanked him for the trouble;;

he had taken, and then read the following price-current: ;;;

Best men, 18 to 25 years old .............. 1200 to 1300 dollars,;:

Fair do. do. do. ....,..,..,.... 950 to 1050 " :ii

Boys, 5 feet........ .......................... 850 to 950 " iii

Do. 4 feet Sinches................... ....... 700 to 800 " iii

Do. 4 feet 5 inches........................... 500 to 600 " :i;

Do. 4 feet...... .............................. 375 to 450 " ii:

Young women............................... . 800 to 1000 " ii

Girls,5 feet....................................... 750 to 850 " ii

Do. 4 feet 9 inches.................. 700 to 750 " ii

; Do. 4 feet.......................... 350 to 450 " ii

Leaving the document for future consideration, he walked;:

I!;:

ETOWAH.

137

if. (Sit. It was now ten minutes to ten o'clock, and Widej; -Swake and Barnum, being alike tired of waiting, went off I; in quest of sales further up the street. Passing the second |: office, in which also nobody was to be seen, they were more ;;; fortunate at the third. Here, according to the announce:: inent on the paper stuck to the red flag, there were to be \'-. sold a woman and three children, a young woman, three i: men, a middle-aged woman and a little boy. Already a ii crowd had met, composed of persons buying for the cotton ; plantations of the South. A few were seated near the fire ;i on the right-hand side, and others stood round an iron stove in the middle of the apartment. ; On his arrival, and while making these preliminary ob servations, the lots for sale had not made their appearanceIn about five minutes afterward they were ushered in, one '. after another, under the charge of a mulatto, who seemed to act as principal assistant. He saw no whips, chains or any ; other engine of force. -Nor did such appear to be required. All the lots took their seats on two long forms near the stove; none showed any signs of resistance; nor did any one utter a word. Their manner was that of perfect humil ity and resignation.
As soon as all were seated, there was a general examina tion of their respective merits by feeling their arms, looking into their mouths, and investigating the quality of their hands and fingers this last being evidently an important particular. Yet there was no abrupt rudeness in making these examinations; no coarse or domineering language was employed. The three negro men were dressed in the usual manner in gray woolen clothing. The woman, with three children excited his particular attention. She was neatly attired, with a colored handkerchief bound around her head,

138

ETOWAH.

and wore a white apron over her dress. Her children

all girls, one of them a baby at the breast, three

old, and the others two and three years of age respectivfilpll

rigged out with clean white pinafores. There was notatssil

or an emotion visible in the whole party. Everything!!

seemed to be considered as a matter of course, and i^il

change of owners was possibly looked forward to withii^l!

much indifference as ordinary hired servants anticipate;!!!

removal from, one employer to another.

:;;.;!;!;

While intending purchasers were proceeding with persoS;^;;!

examinations of the several lots, Barnum took the liberfpl

of putting a few questions to the mother of the children. T|i;|

following was their conversation:

;;.;5';f

"Are you a married woman ?"

. ; ; ;;;!!

"Yes, sir!"

1!

"How many children have you had?''

:.;;!!?

"Seven."

; i|

''Where is your husband?"

'

;;;1

"In Madison county."

;;;:|

"When did you part from him?"

;;;s|

"On Wednesday two days ago."

: ';';:;!

' Were you sorry to part from him ?"

^H

"Yes, sir, she replied,with a deep sigh; my heart was a'mos|!

broke."

:::!|;

"Why is your master selling you?"

::;!;

"I don't know he wants money to buy some land sup;:;

pose he sells me for that."

;;;;;;:;;;

There might not be a word of truth in these answers, 3|if!

he had no means of testing their correctness; but the womai;:

seemed to speak unreservedly. He spoke also to the youap

woman who was seated near her. She, like the others, ttrgp

perfectly black, and appeared stout and healthy, of whiell

|::V .

ETOWAH.

139

Ihjojne of the persons present assured themselves by feeling I her arms, looking into her mouth and causing her to stand |;sj>. She told him she had several brothers and sisters, but ;:::<Jid not know Where they were. She said she was a houseI; servant, and would be glad to be bought by a good master, ^looking at him as if he should not be unacceptable. ;;: There was an entire absence of emotion in the looks of :^men, women and children, thus seated preparatory to being ihsold. This did not correspond with the ordinary accounts iiiof slave-sales, which are represented as tearful and harrow ing. None of the parties seemed to feel deeply on the sub: ject, or at least any distress they experienced was but momen tary-soon passed away and was forgotten. A trifling inci; dent proved this. While waiting for the commencement of ; the sale, one of the gentlemen present amused himself with ::. a pointer dog, which, at command, stood on its hind legs ; : and took pieces of bread from his pocket. These tricks : greatly entertained the row of negroes, old and young, and
the poor woman, whose heart, three minutes before, was : almost broken, now laughed as heartily as any one.
"Sale is going to commence this way," cried a man at : the door to a number of loungers outside; and all having : : assembled, the mulatto assistant led the woman and her children to the block, which he helped her to mount. : There she stood with her infant at the breast, and one of : her girls at each side.
The auctioneer, a handsome, manly-looking personage, took his place with one foot on an old deal chair with :. a broken back, and the other raised on a somewhat more ele vated block. It was a striking scene.
"Well, gentlemen," began the salesman, "here is a capital woman and her three children, all in good health what

140

ETOWAH.

;.;

do you say for them? Give me an offer. (Nobody speaks.) : I put up the whole lot at eight hundred and fifty .dollars :: eight hundred and fifty dollars eight hundred and fifty ;; dollars (speaking very fast) eight hundred and fifty dol- j lars. Will no one advance upon that? A very extraordi nary bargain, gentlemen. A fine healthy balyy. Hold it up. (Mulatto goes up the first step of the block, takes the . baby from the woman's breast, and holds it aloft with one? hand, so as to show that it was a veritable sucking baby.) : That will do. A woman still young and with three children, all for eight hundred and fifty dollars. An advance, if you please, gentlemen. (A voice bids eight hundred and sixty dollars.) Thank you, sir; eight hundred and sixty dollars; any one bids more ? (A second voice says, eight hundred and seventy dollars, and so on, the bidding goes as far as eight hundred and ninety dollars, when it stops.) "That won't do, gentlemen. I cannot take such a low price." (After a pause, addressing the mulatto): ''She may go down." Down from the block the woman and her children were there fore conducted by the assistant, and, as if nothing had occurred, they calmly resumed their seats by the stove.
The next lot brought forward was one of the men. The assistant, beckoning to him with his hand, requested him to come behind a canvas screen, of two leaves, which was stand ing near the back window. About a dozen gentlemen crowded to the spot. The man was told to open and shut his hands, asked if he could pick cotton, and his teeth were looked at. The investigation being at an end, he was requested to walk to the block.
The ceremony of offering him for competition was gone through as before, but no one ^would bid. The other two men, after undergoing similar examinations behind the

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screen, were also put up, but with the same result. Nobody would bid for them, and they were all sent back to their seats. It seems as if the company had conspired not to buy anything that da,y. Probably some imperfections had been detected in the personal qualities of the negroes. Be this as it may, the auctioneer, perhaps a little out of temper from his want of success, walked off to his desk, and the affair was so far at an end.
"This way, gentlemen ! this way!" was heard from a voice outside, and the company immediately hurried off to the second establishment. At this office there was a young woman and also a man for sale. The woman was put up first at five hundred dollars; and possessing some recommendable qualities, the bidding for her was run as high as seven hundred and ten dollars, at which she was knocked down to a purchaser. The man was put up at seven hun dred dollars; but a small imperfection having been observed in his person, no one would bid for him, and he was ordered down.
"This way, gentlemen! this way down the street, if you please!" was now shouted by the person in the employment of the first firm, to whose office all very willingly adjourned. In going in the crowd, Barnum went to see what should be the fate of the man and boy, with whom he had already had some communication.
There the pair, the two cousins, sat by the fire, just where he had left them an hour before. The boy was put up first.
"Come along, my man jump up; there's a good boy !" said oce of the partners a bulky and respectable-looking person, with a gold chain and a bunch of seals, at the same time getting on the block. With alacrity the little fellow came forward, and, mounting the steps, stood by his side.

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;;;;

The forms in front were filled with the company, and, as: Barnum seated himself, he found that his old companies;: Wide-awake, was close at hand, still chewing and spitting:: at a great rate.
" Now, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, putting his haml:: on the shoulder of the boy, " he is a very fine boy, seven;;., years of age, warranted sound what do you say for him?::: I put him up at 500 dollars 500 dollars (speaking quick,: his right hand raised up and coming down on the open:: palm of the left) 500 dollars. Any one say more than 500::; dollars ? (560 is bid) 560 dollars. Nonsense! Just look at;; him. See how high he is. (He draws the lot in front of.; him, and shows thac the little fellow's head comes up to his;; breast.) You see he is a fine, tall, healthy boy. Look at his bands. "
Several step forward and cause the boy to open and shut;. his hands, the flexibility of the small fingers, black on the one side, and whitish on the other, being well looked to. The bands and also the mouth having given satisfaction, an advance is made to 570, then to 580.
''Gentlemen, that is a very poor price for a boy of this size.'"' (Addressing the lot.) " Go down, my boy, and show them how you can run." The boy seemingly happy to do as he was bid, went down from the block, and ran smartly across the floor several times, the eyes of every one in the room following him.
" Now, that will do. Get up again." (Boy mounts the block, tbe step being rather steep for his short legs, but the auctioneer kindly lends him a hand.) " Come, gentlemen, you see this is a first rate lot. " (590, 600, 610, 620, 630 dollars are bid.) "I will sell him for six hundred and thirty dol lars, twice. (A. pause, hand sinks.) Gone!"

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I;;/ The boy having descended, the man was desired to come |;:forward,and after the usual scrutiny, he took his place on the I; Mock. !;: " Well, now, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, " here is a I;; right prime lot. Look at this man; strong, healthy, able -bodied; could not be a better hand for field-work. He can B; drive a wagon or anything. What do you say for him? I
offer the man at the low price of 800 dollars he is well :: worth 1,200 dollars. Come, make an advance, if you please, ;V 800 dollars said for the man (a bid); thank you; 810 dollars, i '810 dollars, 810 dollars, (several bids, 820, 830, 850,860),
"going at 860, going. Gentlemen, this is far below his value. A strong man, fit for any kind of heavy work. Just take a look at him." (Addressing the lot): " Walk down. " (Lot dismounts, and walks from one side of the shop to the other. When about to re-ascend the block, a gentleman, who is smoking a cigar, examines his mouth with his fingers. Lot resumes his place.) " Pray, gentlemen, be quick " (contin ues the auctioneer) ; " I must sell him, and 860 dollars are only bid for the man, 860 dollars. " (A fresh run of bids to 945 dollars). "945 dollars once, 945 dollars twice " (looking slowly around to see if all were done). " 945 dollars. Going, going," (hand drops), " gone ! "
Such were a forenoon's experiences in the slave-market of Richmond. Everything is described precisely as it occurred. Barnum's emotions as he returned to the hotel were conflict ing. Savages brought from Africa were certainly much ad vanced in the scale of civilization by becoming the slaves of a man like Colonel Leslie. But this selling of human be ings, as if they were dumb brutes, this separation of families, seemed so revolting to his mind; so at war with the essence of the Declaration of Independence, that he, who had se-

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::I

riously considered the propriety of refusing longer to bs$

arms against a noble people, now felt that this misera||l|

system of slavery ought to be extirpated at any cost. Ji;-;

"If it cannot be done, then let them secede !" he exclaimipll

" There is an ' irrepressible conflict,' and this country <%m

not form one harmonious government half slave and bs||i

free. " He forgot, in his unselfish thoughts, that New Yo|l||

was once a slave State. The Albany (N. Y.) Gazette of 1|S|:

contained many advertisements concerning fugitive slaysf;

and slavery, similar, in all respects, to those which he kali;

read in the Richmond papers. Slavery had ceased thesf

when it ceased to be profitable, just as it probably wouli

have been abolished eventually in the South for like caasS

before the close of this century.

;::s

i

CHAPTER XIV.

O

THE TWO DEMOCRACIES.

|:v For the army each day was a cycle of events at this period, g-lmt for Clara months passed and her interest in the stirring ^events was repressed and she seemed a changed being. Her ^bright color was gone now, and Colonel Leslie's cheery greet ings were answered by a forced smile and the unremitting "attentions of his devoted daughter. But all these dutiful ^attentions did not bring back the bloom to the cheeks of the ;; convalescent.
There are people thus cheerful, thus earnest, thus faithful, : whose wealth of love cannot fulfill its mission by pursuing : the narrow path of duty.
Thus without a quarrel Latane and Clara suffered a mu tual disappointment which nothing but a satisfactory ex;, planation of the enigmatical state of affairs could remedy. Her father had finally acknowledged to himself the true reason why her buoyant cheerfulness had given way to a gentleness which seemed born of disappointment, and he felt extreme resentment to the author of it. She was his idol, and her happiness was the object of his life. When re lieved of the cares of business, it was her society he craved, and daily some little token of love would evidence his ab sorbing affection for his only child.
Time had rolled fleetly around; great battles had been . fought, and still, late in the second year of the war, Henry Latane had not asked for a furlough.
In the North the steady expansion of population by means

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of European immigration had spread over the new

and improvement was rife everywhere. The discovery of mM

troleum added one hundred and fifty millions of dollars;stil

year to the national wealth, and the mineral wealth of t&sif

Pacific States and intermediate country yielded one hundred;;;;;;

millions more.

;;.;'?;;

But war was crushing the South with anaconda forcegf

For men and material for the purposes of war, the North b.&I;;;|

the whole world to draw upon. One paper stated: " W<i;;|

have now over twenty-six millions of people within t1j|

Union lines, against less than five millions (nearly one-h;ij||;

of whom are negro slaves) within the lines of the Confede?*!

ates. All things considered, the actual, positive, available!

strength of the North against the South is more than twenty.;;;;;

against one." It was at this period that a ring at the door-;;;;

bell of Mrs. Latane's house, one bright, sunny winter morning,;^;;

brought the warm-hearted matron herself to the door. J$;f

was not the fashionable hour for calling, and she knew thiyt;';;

it must be some familiar acquaintance. She looked in every;;

direction, but could see no one, and was about to reenter the;;;

hall when a bright, laughing voice from the conservatory,;;

into which a door descended from the veranda, said: "I;;

will join you in a moment, aunty; I wish to get a camellia ;;

and what beautiful geraniums!" Then the shapely figure;;

and fresh, beautiful face of Julia Bearing appeared, holding;;

in her taper fingers some choice geraniums and other plants.;

"Why, Julia! always at your delightful surprises; actu

ally pi lying hide-and-seek with an old woman like me. I'm;

so glad to see you! " Then she met her with a mother's kiss.;

" You ought to be, aunty, for I've brought you something ;

that you will prize very highly," said Julia.

Mrs. Bearing and Mrs. Latane "had been bosom friends '-

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childhood until the death of the former, and Mrs. Lalifeine loved and admired Julia more than any one except her if;; children. There had long been a secret hope in her heart that ifiiHenry and Julia would one day marry ; when that occurred, frshe thought, her happiness would be complete. f;;' "I will guess what it is," she said. if;:: "No, aunty, I will not postpone your pleasure; it is a I:.'letter from Captain Latane. I stopped the carriage as I |; passed the post-office and made Jeff inquire for your mail." f'-. " Then you must share my pleasure," said Mrs. Latane, if leading the way to the parlor. " Sit down, my child, while f I read it to you."
They had hardly entered the parlor when a sunbeam of a ; child, a perfect type of blonde beauty, with golden hair and ; blue eyes, ran in and threw herself in Julia's lap with the ; expression, "Oh, here is Cousin Julia!" In an instant her
plurip little arms were around Julia's neck, and the affec tionate child lavished kisses upon her, telling her that she .was the most beautiful lady in the world.
Mrs. Latan6, opening the letter, read:
" CULPEPPEE COURT HOUSE, VIRGINIA, 1862.
My Dear Mother :
For two weeks we have been almost constantly on the march. I am writing under disadvantages, having been drenched by the rain, which is even now dripping on the paper. We are in a strip of woods near the Rappahannock; drawn up in line of battle, expecting orders to advance every minute; shells are flying over and around us. The cannonading is tremendous. Ambulances are hurrying by, carrying the wounded. One poor fellow is being borne by on a stretcher ; he cannot live many minutes longer.

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;.:!!

Two DAYS LATER, 25tL,: !;! I was interrupted, as I expected. The left of our divisias!;;; Anderson's brigade, suffered severely. The Washingtsa! Artillery, attached to our brigade, suffered very heavily Jip; killed and wounded; the enemy abandoned their positioss|l

hut cannonaded us furiously. We have bivouacked at Jspl; ferson, waiting for provisions which gave out yesterday!;:; Hungry men are cursing commissaries, yet it is not trKj||l

fault, for provisions have to be hauled a long distance. We!

have no bread, but it will come after awhile.

;:;:;

THURSDAY, 26th.; ;|:

We left without provisions, and are still advancing. Details! are sent into every corn-field that we pass to procure roasting! ears, which is our only food. The men seem nearly famishfxi.::; but are brave and cheerful. We are drawn up in line si! battle in an old field opposite the enemy. Shells weffi::

thrown during the whole of yesterday by the enemy; se?-:: eral fell in a few feet of me. Poor Charles Vincent, color-:: bearer to the regiment, was killed by one of them. Please;; call to see his mother, and tender her consolation and assist-;; ance. Charlie enlisted in my company and was one of the;; best soldiers in the regiment. Fifteen or twenty men in my;;

company are bare-footed; their feet are torn and sore, but; they do not murmur. They are chiefly poor factory opera- : tives, like Charles Vincent, and I do not see any way te : ; procure shoes for them. Thousands in this army are nti better off. These men are certainly patriots. I feel thank-;: ful for my own good health; I need nothing. God bless and ;

take care of you, my dearest mother. Give my little pet>: ; my sweet little sister, a hundred kisses for me and my kind-:

est regards to Manson. Your devoted son,

HENRY LATANE."

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149

ii: " Manson " was Mrs. Latane's colored carriage driver. As j:-:Mrs. Latane finished reading the letter, little Minnie, with liiiears in her eyes; exclaimed : : " My poor, good, dear, dear brother! " |: : Her mother, smiling through her own tears, caressed the l::::Mttle bine-eyed child, and Julia interupting her said : ::K. "Say my brave, noble, heroic brother that's what I think I : of him!" : : The mother's heart was too full to reply.. Pride in his ;; courage, and fear for the safety of her darling son, agitated : her with conflicting emotions. Julia soon left in order to :: make other calls.
For many days thereafter Julia was busily engaged em broidering a pair of slippers and a tobacco-pouch for the "brave, noble, heroic soldier." Her father looked on with : gratification, for he was even more anxious that Henry ! Latan6 and Julia should form an attachment to culminate in : marriage than Mrs. Latane was. But Julia had always : declared that she and Henry Latane were too good friends ever to become lovers. Latan6 was completely infatuated with Clara Leslie, and, indeed, loved her the more on account the very uncertainty of its successful termination. He never permitted himself to doubt Clara's fidelity, honesty and truthfulness a moment, but no positive engagement of marriage existed, and his self-respect would not permit him to make any further overtures until the mysterious silence of Colonel Leslie and herself was explained, for none of his letters to Clara had been answered. The next day the stylish equipage of Mrs. Latane drew up in front of an humble cottage of one of the factory operatives at Mr. Potts' mill. The little yard in front was ornamented with a few rose bushes and other flowers, while in the cot-

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tage windows flower-pots with fragrant flowers attested th refined feelings belong to the poor as well as the rich. Mjgi Vincent's poverty did not admit of the gratification cf; aesthetic tastes except in this modest way, but the littlfe? porch was trellised with hanging vines, the honey suckle aEti: the clematis, which united to make the air fragrant and in viting. The walk leading from the gate to the house was;; swept clean, and within the house was an appearance of:: neatness not usually found in the houses of the poor any where. The newly-made quilts upon the beds were tastefully; arranged, having been made by Mrs. Vincent and her chil-; dren in the long winter nights; and the sheets and counter panes were snowy white and clean; with now and then a place showing that a careful hand had sewed the rent caused by long usage. Mrs. Vincent, with her little daughters and a little boy near her, was preparing the humble meal, for soon the mid-day bell would sound, and her eldest daughter would hurry from the mill to dinner.
Mrs. Latane, leading her little daughter by the hand, en tered the porch and knocked at the door. Mrs. Vincent, with a respectful curtsy, welcomed her kindly, for there were few among the suffering poor in her neighborhood who did not know of and appreciate Mrs. Lataiie's charity.
"How are your little ones, my friend?" said she. "My little girl has brought them some presents."
"You are too kind, my dear madame; pray be seated; I'm sure, m'am, you know you are welcome."
While the mothers were engaged in friendly conversation, in which Mrs. Latane learned all about the needs of the sick among the operatives, little Minnie had gathered the children around her all sitting on the floor her golden curls mingling with their flaxen locks, while she emptied

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151

fiber apron of its contents. There were dressed dolls, dolls I;;-; that were undressed, dolls that could open and shut their I v eyes, and dolls that could cry. "Yust ike a itty baby!" :::: chimed in one of the little innocents. The children were I delighted, and Mrs. Latane, with a mother's heart, ex: claimed: " Of such is the kingdom of heaven! Truly :: childhood is the ideal democracy." : The little creatures would scramble playfully for the bon
bons until they would roll over the floor, to Minnie's inex pressible delight, whose bright curls shook as her merry peals of laughter succeeded these antics. The little boy toddled up, and taking her curls in his chubby little hands, said in infantile tones: "I'll take this for my present." Minnie smiled, and putting her arms around the baby boy, kissed him and said: "Oh, no, Johnnie, I've brought you a real pretty present. Boys don't like dolls, so I've brought you something else." Then she ran to the carriage, followed by the delighted little mob, and, nearly breathless, exclaimed, accompanying the speech with the forefinger of her righthand in an imperious way: "Be quick, uncle Manson; I have left a box in the carriage." Three little voices chimed in: "Be quick, uncle Manson; left something in the car riage!"; Manson got down, arid patting his little mistress' head, lifted her in his arms gently and placed her in the carriage, where she sought among the downy cushions in vain for the missing box. Tears were about starting in her eyes, and the little friends were nearly crazy with excitement, wondering what Minnie had brought little Johnnie. "Uncle Manson," said the child, "can't you come in here and find that box ?"

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""Certainly I can, Minnie ; don't you know uncle

can always find anything, or do anything for you?" Jis

Then he took Minnie in his arms again, placed her. fiip

the ground, and, looking in, saw the box under one of tJis

seats, where Minnie, in her eagerness, had pushed it witho5i|i:

seeing it. As he held it down to her, she clapped her

and leaped for joy. Three little children clapped

hands and leaped for joy. Again the parlor floor is a

mated with happy children,

"Here, Johnnie, is your present," proudly said the lit

beauty, as she took out the toy soldiers and placed them

a row. There were soldiers on foot, and cavalry

and toy cannon. The mothers had ceased talking and

silently gazing at the children. Mrs. Latane had takeR.;-;

down in her note-book every article which Mrs. Vinceai;;;;

needed, the latter protesting against receiving them.

;:;

''Oh, never mind," said Mrs. Latane, "you can pay m;;;.

for them when you like, but you must take them. We;;;

know not how soon we will be poor, and I want to help peo-.;;;

pie while I have the means. After a while, maybe your .:;;

children will be helping mine." Just then the little boy ;

uttered an exclamation of delight; Minnie had placed the;;

toy soldiers in opposite lines for a battle, she said ; and one ;;

of them, holding a flag above his head, as if in the act of.;.;

waving it, she had placed in front of the centre of the line ;

of battle.

;

Charles Vincent was color-bearer in Henry Lataiie's com- ;

pany, which was the color company of the regiment, a;

position given to Charles for gallant conduct. He was pro-

moted to be lieutenant the day he was fatally wounded. '

The honor was conferred at the special request of Captain

Latane, and it indicated that, though social advantages and '

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fealtti were against the modest and humble factory operaMire, yet he was the bravest soldier in the regiment. This
promotion as color-sergeant over many wealthy men created some envy at first, but the brave are :|:sver magnanimous, and the modest, but manly bearing of ;|:;3he young man soon made him the most popular soldier in | ; ihe command. Mrs. Vincent, therefore, had learned to |;love Henry Latand, whom she had never seen, next to her j^soa Charles. v[ ''Mama," said little Johnnie, ''here is brother Charles iii marching ahead of all of them!" With a look of grateful iii pride, Mrs. Vincent said to her friend: "When the war is hover my Charles will not forget to whom he owes his pro motion, and will do anything on earth for your children." V Before she had finished the sentence Mrs. Latane, overcome ;' at last, was sobbing. Then Mrs. Vincent sank, pale and trembling, in her chair, and gasped, " What is it?" Her mother's heart told her the truth too well. Mrs. Latand embraced her and caressed her as if she was not only her ' equal, but her sister. There is another democracy : the democracy of grief! The eldest daughter, Agnes, entered the room at the moment when Mrs. Latane gently conveyed to her mother's stricken heart the agonizing intelligence. Agnes interpreted the scene at a glance and, aided by Mrs. Latane, lifted her mother and placed her on the bed. Mrs. Vincent did not utter a sound, but her lips moved convulsively, as if she would speak, if speaking would not break her heart. She did not weep; such grief as this freezes the fount of tears! She did not close her eyes; such grief petrifies the glance of misery! The open eyes saw n<~> one; the ears, listening for the silent voice of the dead, heard no one! The brain of

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tliat poor mother was busy ; thought was weaving its meshes there, and this thought was of no one save Vincent. Day after day, week after week, almost out nourishment, she remained in this condition. Final;!?? her eyes assumed the uncertain fixity of look which lefcisl to madness. They seemed to penetrate space and see infe the far beyond. Nothing saved her from lunacy but tK| prattling voices of those little helpless children. They n-cijs had no protector, no support, save Agnes and her young;:? sister. Weeks glided into months, and yet that vacant staie? into vacancy never wholly left her. Agnes continued tsi nurse her mother, and, but for the bountiful supplies brought!!: weekly to the door in Mrs. Latane's wagon, the family! would have starved.
"It will never do to help these people," said Mr. Potts, the!! rich manufacturer. "The more you give, the more they! want. Give them an inch, and they'll take an ell. Teach them i to take care of themselves is my motto; that's the only true! charity. I've paid the girl all I agreed to pay her. Honesty; is my motto I believe in the omnipotence of honesty! These people expect me to buy them Brussels carpets and! feed them on cake and champagne! I am against giving to the poor; against it on principle! It spoils them for! laborers; they begin to hold their heads too high; none of;! that for me! I'm a self-made man !"
Mr. Potts was an eminently "respectable" man. His shirtcollar was always stiff and straight and upright. Mr. Potts had a "high place in the synagogue," and wore a cut-away coat. His coat tails were also eminently respectable. Mr. Potts was a deacon; and when other people stood up to pray he knelt down, first having swept away any dirt which might be on the floor, with his handkerchief, to protect his

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liiljsMlible knees. Wlien Mr. Potts knelt upon one knee, the liifefter leg served as a support to his elbow, for his infallible flight-hand always supported his infallible chin. Piety was I;:so conspicuous in Mr. Potts' bearing that he might have S: : ieen mistaken for a minister. Meanwhile, one of the operaS-xtives was heard to exclaim, after Mr. Potts had delivered one ;:' of Ms characteristic homilies, ending with "I am a self-made :: man!" "God-a-mighty must feel proud that he did not have i: a hand in the making of old Potts!" . One day the physician, employed by Mrs. Latan , called
at Chestatee and informed her that the invalid must be removed.
"Why is it necessary, doctor?" she asked. "Malaria,'' he replied. "Her cottage is very near the river, and if she were in her normal condition, malaria might not affect her seriously. But malaria affects not only the cells of the cerebral centres, the normal phosphorescence of which gives origin to the mind, but also every nerve-cell and molecule. It also affects the action of the chylopcetic vis cera, and thus produces indigestion and destroys the manu facture of the great pabulum of life the blood." While Dr. B's fondness for using medical terms sometimes amused Mrs. Latanfe, she had the utmost respect for his opinions, as he was at the head of his profession, and had for many years been the family physician. Following the advice of the doctor, Mrs. Latane had the Vincent family conveyed to one of her farms, called "Beallwood," where the aroma from the pine forest which surrounded the dwelling had been found singularly effica cious in lung diseases and malarial complaints.
But all the efforts to restore Mrs. Vincent to health were in vain. The ball that struck Charles Vincent's heart pierced

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hers also. She gradually grew weaker, mentally and physi-:: cally, until at last she was a hopeless wreck, cast upon th<?:: boundless sea of grief without rudder, compass or the anchor; of hope! She was never violent, always quiet; always: shrinking from friends, dead to the world because her world: was dead! She realized nothing that was done for her. She: neither complained nor expressed gratitude. Like the proud: Empress Carlotta, when her noble husband, Maximilian, was: slain, this humble woman, whose strong mind and resolute : courage had supported that helpless family, sank into melan- ; cholia, and repulsed from her presence those nearest and ; dearest to her. No one but her daughter, Agnes, could give her food and no one else had any influence with her.
One day Mrs. Latane sat at the bedside of the invalid, re lieving Agnes, who was overcome by fatigue, her mother having been much worse the previous night. Little Minnie was carefully fanning the weak, emaciated woman, who was sleeping far more tranquilly than she had slept for weeks. Suddenly the sleeper awoke, and, fixing on Mrs. Latan4 her unnaturally large eyes that now beamed with the old intelli gent look, she said : "My friend my dear, good, kind friend! I am going soon. I've been with my boy, Charles, in Heaven! I will meet your husband there have you any message for him ? Bring my darling children to me." Then the dying mother, released at last, talked rationally and tran-, quilly to them; told them of the great struggle which she had had in order to be saved, and, admonishing them con^ cerning the illimitable future, consigned them to Agnes' care.
The poor factory woman had joined her son at last! Agnes returned to the lonely cottage, in spite of Mrs. Latane's protest, and to work in the mill again. The great river rushed with mighty force down the magnificent falls.

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fsTThe great wheels of the factory moved the massive machin|:;: ery, and hundreds toiled night and day in the fetid atmos;: phereof the mighty mill. Men and women came and went, I:: weeks glided into months, and still the ceaselesshum of loom I;; and spindle'sounded the Miserere in her ears! The poor f-\: girl worked on, shadowed by miserjr, producing beautiful s; fabrics by day, teaching the children by night, and asking s; herself:
"Is life worth having ?" :: The insatiable maw of commerce demands its victims ; with an iron heartlessness, and twelve hours a day must be : given to labor by women and children of tender ages within ; the huge manufactories, which run day and night. And
this is done that the rich may become fabulously rich and the poor reduced to that point, calculated with a nicety which does honor to mathematical physiology, at which life can be sustained. It matters not how many lives are ground out by the daily routine of monotonous toil, the cloth must be woven, and enough profit made to pay the interest on "watered stocks" that sharpers may grow rich, even though little children are kept at work in the mill. In a land which boasts of being the asylum for the oppressed of all nations, la bor has little hope of rising in the world when once it enters the portals of the factory or mine. What matters it that "Cor porations have no souls?" Does not a new-comer take the place of him or her who yields to the unequal fight, and dies in the fierce battle of poverty, for the lack of air, sun shine and wholesome food? Is not life at best a battle, where humanity is but an improved animal rioting in a refinement of cruelty undreamed of by the beasts? Does not humanity repeat the natural law, the strong oppress the weak, the big fish eat the little fish ? Do not politicians

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:.;--ll

boldly proclaim that " might makes right ? " Thus thougljt:|

the operatives, at least, for Mr. Potts was noted.as being tfcs:|

hardest task-master and the most unapproachable employp;f

in all the State. And his son, Wellington Napoleon, was lifcg;|

unto him.

: ::::

Whatever were the evils of slavery, let us not forget whats

a great Belgian economist, speaking of countries whe-ssS

slavery is unknown, has said: " Except as a tradition^;!

Masters and men are iii a state of constant warfare, having::;

their battles, their victories, and their defeats. It is a dark::

and bitter civil war, wherein he wins who holds out longest

without earning anything; a struggle far more cruel and;:

more keen than that decided by bullets or a barricade; one :

where all the furniture is pawned or sold; where the savings :

of better times are gradually devoured, and where at last:

famine and misery besiege the home and oblige the wife and::

little ones to cry for mercy."

'-.

I;

CHAPTER XV.

|{

IN CONFEDERATE DAYS.

:;: Little accidents frequently usher in important incidents. :;; Itisthe accident which often determines the fate of a battle; jii and an accident frequently decides that most important in:i:cident in one's life, courtship. It was a trivial accident V-which introduced Julia Desiring to Major George Blount. !: but, trivial as it was, it is a necessary link in the chain of : of events which form this life-story. : As Julia Bearing was driving rapidly near Chestatee, on ; her return from a visit to one of her friends, her dog, a small
Italian grayhound, leaped suddenly out of the pony-phaeton I and, striking the lines, fell just before the wheels which ran ; over the little animal. The mare stopped instantly at her
command, which was spoken in a tone that seemed to com municate sympathy to the animal for the little whimpering brute. She quickly descended and took the little dog in her arms as gently as if it had been an infant, and its low whim pers ceased as she held it in her arms, though its leg was broken. Resuming her seat, with the dog in her lap, she was about to drive off, when a strong voice said :
" Most beautifully done, Miss Julia! I would have aided you had it been in my power, but walking on crutches is slow locomotion."
" Why, Captain Latan6! I am so glad to see you ; when did you return home? I have one vacant seat; let me drive you home. On crutches, did you say ? I must have a pair made for Bijou." As she said this she looked with real sym-

160

ETOWAH,

;;.;!

pathy at the soldier and added: " I hope your limb is R;|f

fractured."

; ;.;;!

"Oh, yes," he replied, "but that is a small matter; ip|

might have been a great deal worse. Let me introduce nipt

friend, Major Blount: Miss Bearing, Major Blount." JulmMf

had not seen Blount at first, the turn in the road and tfest

dense vegetation having hidden him from view, but no*;;!

she saw a noble specimen of young manhood a soldier an<I;|

a gentleman. Blount threw open the great gate and tb&:s

young lady drove in, for the dog, she thought, demanded;::;:

immediate attention. She soon reached the house and had-:::

entered it, bearing her dog with her, before the young gen-;:::

tlemen arrived.

:

" By Jove! isn't she handsome? " said Blounfc.

"Yes," replied Latane, and she is as clever as she is hand

some.

"She is the handsomest girl I ever saw," said Blount,

"and I mean to cultivate her."

"In time of peace prepare for war, then," retorted Latane,

who seemed fully to appreciate her merits himself.

Her buoyant health gave a vigor to her movements which

was apparent to the least observant. The elasticity of her

step as she walked and her natural vivacity seemed the acme

of the joyous sense of living. The very idea of existing

seemed a pleasure to her.

;. No care oppressed her, and her heart seemed a well-spring

of perennial gayety. } The only child of a wealthy and emi

nent man, her every whim had been gratified during her

life. Her self-possessed manner made her appear older than

Clara Leslie, and she tooktheleadin all diversions. Clara's

admirers were constant; Julia'smore numerous, i/ut fickle,

as she wanted them to be.

ETOWAH.

161

"Men's hearts were made to be broken and then mended I; again," she was heard to say; yet she was not selfish, and Eishe despised downright deception. She would have scorned j; to deceive for any purpose except to gratify her conscious : power and this, she flattered herself, was a harmless amuse.ment. : She was brilliant, caustic when she chose to be sar-
cistic, witty and beautiful, the essentials for the "makeup" of a successful flirt.' To the poor she was the embodiment of charity. Without having been strictly "in society," she had been courted a dozen times, and each of her lovers, except Bruton Stewart, though jilted, hung around her with the : same blind infatuation whenever she appeared in society. She neither rejected nor accepted her suitors, but always re ferred them to her father, whom none of them dared to approach until she had given an outward visible sign respon sive to their own declarations, which she was careful not to do. The girl seemed utterly to lack sentiment. Success did not spoil her, for the idea of not succeding had never enter ed her head'. Insensible to jealousy, she coukl not compre hend how it could hurt others. Excepting this one foible, springing from love of admiration, Julia's heart was a kind one, ever ready to mi nister to the sick and needy. She seemed insensible to fatigue or ennui. The common people and the negroes all liked and admired her. Without being mascu line, she was an excellent "shot," and frequently went gun ning with Henry Latane when he was at home. She was also a superb horsewoman, and could handle the "ribbons" famously well in driving. And now Latane thought of the bitter cold day when he had received the slippers made by the hands of Julia Dearing, for of such were the presents to soldiers made in the days
11

162

ETOWAH.

when our ports were blockaded and luxuries were

to necessities.

The snow was thick on the ground in the valley

ginia, and shoes were scarce and hard to obtain, "for

money." His own shoes were worn and afforded posr;:|p

tection to his almost frozen feet.

11110

Each day was being ushered in by a battle or a skiKtg|f|

and he commanded the picket line. One by one hfe;:^|l

were falling, and his company, which had numbefel:l|lO|

hundred and twenty-five, had dwindled to forty-five m

To each of these soldiers he had endeared himself by as|

kindness when self-abnegation meant pi. ysicial suffering;:

was at this time that the slippers and tobacco

Julia had been received, his initials being worked in

hand?. With grateful appreciation Latane wrote,

her for the unexpected kindness, and thus began a cor

pondence in which she wrote just as she would have fci||||:

had he been present, an epistolary art as rare as it is at||!ll

tive.

To the letter referred to she replied as follows, after hafj|p|J

briefly alluded to the comfort which she hoped the sli|)|i|ll

might afford to the absent soldier:

"': ; 011111

" I am so glad that you are well again. I feel very ]}ii|0f

of my gallant cousin. Has he forgotten me f Is

uncle John yesterday; he is seventy-six years old,

he says he will give his three sons to the army, and, i

sary, will lead them himself This, from the wealtllllfl

gentleman in town, shows the spirit that is destined to;;ipip

our independence.

: : ;-;Jii

" I have been for the last week in such a state of min^li;

sad and glad, angry and proud. We went to the depot j?ep

terday to see the Guards off. All the town was there. f|l

ETOWAH.

163

were addressed by Dr. Wiggins. Then Mr. Wynnton

||s.vg them a benediction, and Mr. DeVoe, the chaplain, re-

Hjserided. Henry, I do think that such men, going as they

Hid, blessed by ministers, prayed for, and so loved as they

las, must conquer. They are our first, b' st and most cultured

Ipsng men. Oh! if I was only a man I wouldn't stay

|:fes a minute! I wish I was. To think that our nearest

|:gM dearest go to sacrifice themselves and be targets for

Imercenaries! Oh! it makes me ?o angry! Every one says

Use Guards are, all in-all, the best company that has ever

ISfeen raised in the State. Four of your cousins went. A

Ipitleman who went with them to Macon says that there-

|was not a laugh or word that would not be prop?r in a par-

1J8K They nearly all cried; I honor them for it; a man.

IwiiO cries when he leaves his mother and sisters to go to war

jm-it run when he sees the enemy.

lllf'The black people, particularly Shack Shorter, wept co-

Ip&sly when their young masters went to the war. Hennie

llsikefield, stranger as she is. crird. Old men cried. My

lisa's flow far from the surface else I would have cried, too.

lllfi Hart resigned; said he had no idea when he joined the

that there would be a fight, and that he had to

attend to the sewing machines! I don't believe

liasjr woman even would show such cowardice. He ought to

l|g<Jrummed out of town! He missed his vocation in being

Isfctsan. Good-bye, dear cousin.

!!.:;?'Your affectionate, belligerent cousin,

1;!:

" JULIA DEAKING."

IlllPhe battles of the Cbickahominy, culminating in the of Malvern Hill, had raised the siege of Richmond.

164

ETOWAH.

Henry Latane had been severely wounded in the leg

battle of "Seven Pines."

In four hours General Longstreet's corps had lost

thouean J men, killed and wounded; but Richmond ha&

saved, and the army of one hundred and fifty thousand!|l|ll

had been pushed from their strongholds and forlificallipll

and put to flight, leaving an immense spoil in stores,:|p|;|

visions and artillery. For the first time, Captain Latajglpl

turned home on furlough, accompanied by his most intis|||

friend, Major George Blount, of the Second Regulars. ::l|i

legiment was stationed on the Atlantic coast and

Blount, becoming tired of the life of inaction, while so

of his friends were gaining distinction, had applied:;i|ll|

transfer that he might be more actively engaged. Pen^

the result of this application, he had accepted Latan^'s

tation to visit him at Chestatee.

.: : ;

Just before the accident happened which caused tbe

troduotion to Julia Bearing, Latan6 was pointing oat:::lil

Blount the interesting features of the landscape, or "wall!

scape," as Julia persisted in calling it.

They stood near the bluff overlooking the picturesque 8p|l

called "Lover's Leap."

-ii!l

The river, visible for miles from this point, preseniigill:!

succession of rapids leaping wildly over dark jutting

and casting its white foam on high. Far to the n

widened, then narrowed as it made its rapid way on ei;|||ff|

side of Magnolia Island, where those grand Southern

form a forest all .their own. Their mammoth size,

coloring [and great white flowers would do justice te:

most luxuriant forests in the tropics.

.

:

To Blount Julia's appearance was a revelation. He

H:::

ETOWAH.

165

iesst had been that he had neverfallen in love, and who had Ifspiilosophized himself into the belief that St. Paul's idea of fffsiarriage was the wisest opinion expressed in the Bible conlipfhing human institutions, saw all his previous opinions IpSept away at one fell swoop, It was clearly a ca-e of love !;:3f first sight. He had oft n told Latane thathis only weak-. pafiSS, if not his only fault, wa-i his I>ve for Clara Leslie; now pte was about to "out-Herod Htrod!" Julia was entirely enpgrossed in the Fufferings of her little pet. She was making iflmadages and poultices for B j'ou, and, summoning Blount to fiJier assistance, she had sooa placed the broken leg in splints fsg skillfully as a surgeon could have don^it. I;;-;-;- "Where did you learn the healing art, Mis-s Bearing?" ask!:::ffl Blount. :: "Oh, I don't kno w; at the soldiers' hospital, I reckon, You :. kitow the girls all belong to the Soldiers' Aid Society ?" she ^replied.
"Yes, God bless them! They have these societies in every town and village," Le said. . "Auntie," said Julia, "I must tell you something funny; it ; k about papa. I believe he knows as much as Solomon did, : kit he won't use good English; he will persist in calling Florida, 'Flurriday,' etc. I told him the other day that the :i;irls at the last meeting of the Soldiers' Aid Society resolved :S> dress in calico hereafter in order to show our patriotism by pressing in cloth made at home, Well, I have to abandon say pet scheme, for papa only replied when I asked his perKiission, 'My daughter, you have 'coats' enough.' Just think of how insignificant and useless women are! Oh! I wish I was a man!" "I don't," said Blount; "it would spoil a lovely woman.

166

E'JOWAH.

You don't mean to say, though, that you've relieved SQ]$(8|||1|

as you did your dog, do you?"

'

"Oh! no, indeed! I have made bandages, socks,

etc., for them, and have helped to nurse a few who were se

to our home at my father's invitation. I never had abrotlilpl

to get wounded or I should do it."

i;;;!!!

"I believe it," said Blount, earnestly.

!:;:;!!

"What did I tell you, Blount?" said LatanS. But tfell

gentleman preserved a discreet silence.

-;4Sl

"Major Blount, do please tell me what Captain Latasll

told you about me?"

;;B|

"That would exhaust the whole evening," answers!:!

Blount, politely avoiding an answer.

;;; ;.;!

"Upon my word, you are provokingly contrary, aad;;|;;;

shall have to declare war a I'outrancel" she answered. ,;!;;.;;

"He said an untruth about you," said Blount; "he accuses!::

you of being an 'atrocious flirt.' "

;;;;;;

"Then,"she said to Latane", "you don't know what youarsiH

talking about. But I am determined to avoid those perani-::

bulatory worries, called husbands, as long as possible." ; ; H;

"Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the full weigM;

that I love thee; therefore, my sweet Eose, my dear Rose, bei;

merry," answered Latane".

:::;

"Dear Harry, I show more mirth than I am mistress qf,:

and would you yet I were merrier ? Unless you could teach:';:

me to forget you must not teach me how to learn any ex^i

traordinary pleasure," replied Julia, transposing a sentence

in "As You Like it," from which he had quoted to suit the

occasion.

;

Then, rising, she extended her hand to Blount, saying:

"You must not give attention to such slanderous charges

;

ETOWAH.

167

ifitjor. I trust that we will become sufficiently acquainted & sause you to repel any such insinuations in future.". h'.'liPardon the liberty, Miss Julia," said Latane, "but I have ip;l:fed your horse to be taken on to the stable. A storm is
lisping up. Do you see that mass of clouds over there ? lifeiy are the blackest I ever saw, and they seem to reach Use earth." 1^ "Are you afraid of storms ?" saidBlount, as if he were then latul thera determined to analyze her character, p.: "Afraid of storms? Why, no, certainly not; I've been in Ssstorms frequently." p: ''I Thank Heaven that you will escape this one; if it is a |:oyclone it will be here presently and will continue its terri;|Lie destruction a hundred miles distant in an hour," said | :Latan6. |; ''Do cyclones travel so fast ?" :p "Yes, and in a straight line, too; they go two miles a minute Pfrequently and spare nothing that is in their path." P ; Just then a clap of thunder, succeeded by rolling intonailiions across the heavens, silenced them. With wonderful : rapidity the clouds massed themselves together, and the : storm was ushered in by a low, dull, continuous roar that h increased rapidly to the intensity of a tern-pest. Now a flash ;; of lightning revealed the swaying pines that, after having ; : reveled in their lofty strength a century or more, yielded to ;?the force of the gale as the black, moving clouds scudded . with the wind close to the earth. : In ten minutes the cyclone had passed; the tall century : pines lay upon the earth, like prone Titans, near forest oaks : which had been twisted up by the roots and scattered along the track of the storm. The forest, for a width of a hundred

168

ETOWAH.

;;!;!

yards, was cut down as clean as grain is left in swath byiJj|i;

reap.r:

; -'; ;sil

The wind had sown the whirlwind! The great dwellif|!

itself shook like a vessel at sea in a storm, or as if an earilt-sl

quake had rocked it to and fro. The window-blinds

wrenched off suddenly and were borne away as if they

twigs, and the whirling monarchs of the forest went d(isf||

like sticks drawn in the vortex of the whirlwind. Tkg||

could s. e from the house the debris of wrecked buildings!!

immense sills of houses, with planks and weather-boards

mingled with beds and mattresses, had been borne by li

feathers on the wings of the wind, or as if clutched in

strong, merciless hand of the storm.

She stood erect, her eyes brilliant with excitement,

out seeming to appreciate the danger until it was over, fis-;

the cyclone had passed not one hundred yards from whei-g;;

they stood. When it was over, and the big drops were fol!

lowed by sheets of rain, while peals of thunder reverberate*!;

across the heavens, she said with the utmost enthusiasm^;;

"How grand it was !"

!;

<;Yes," said Latan6, "I can think of nothing more so, us-;;

less it is a battle."

'

!

She did not answer, but the nervous clutch upon his arm;

and the mute appeal in her earnest eyes bade him say mr>;:

more of battles, for in the last great battle many of hei;;

friends had fallen, and long afterward thai earnest, interest':::

ed look cheered the absent soldier in the Old Dominion. ;;

What hostess would not be as pleased as Mrs. Latane' was,;:;

when the young gentlemen pronounced the coffee (made of;;

okra, for the ports were blockaded, and genuine coffee was ;;

not to be b aight) the best that they had had for months?: ; ;

ETOWAH.

169

did they learn that the tea which they drank the m&xi morning for breakfast was made from the root of theBssssafras tree. BiThey were enjoying the best comforts the land could ^afford, and the society of a girl who would have made a ;';social sensation anywhere, and they looked at life as if it ; was "au couleur derote" withe ut a trial cr a sorrow.
In an hour the storm had ceased. Amid bright sallies of i'witand happy repartee the evening passed delightfully; and :: it was quite evident that Blount had made an agreeable imBpression also. : "Julia," said Mrs. Latane1, "have you seen Clara Leslie's : new filk dress ? I am told she received from her cousin, :inow in Paris, several very handsome dresses by the blockade runner, 'The Clara,' which managed to get into Brunswick : last week. The vessel was named for her."
"No, auntie, but I am going to see her to-morrow I am : crazy to see those dresses."
" It strikes me," said Blount, " that no Paris modiste not even the great Worth can excel the fit and texture of the lovely dress you have en now."
" Oh, thank you, Major; I have been hinting to auntie all the evening to compliment me, for I made this dress myself."
" Indeed! Julia, it is very handsome. I asked you about Miss Leslie's dresses because I thought the one you are wear ing must be imported. I saw that it was neither just the thing for walking, nor driving, nor indoors and--"
"Nevertheless, she is exquisitely, charmingly dressed," said Blount.
"Thank you again, Major; I see that I have one appre ciative friend at least."
" What did I'tf11 you, Blount," said Latane.

170

ETOWAH.

;:::|:

"Well, now, did you ever!" exclaimed Julia.

';;;?!

" I never did," said Blount, interrupting again, and M;|

said f his so solemnly that it elicited general laughter. ::::::

"I don't think anyone but Julia can make a dress liks;:;|

that without imported materials," said Mrs. Latane1 ; "so if::;;

is not to your discredit, Major, that you confess that you;:;

' never did.'"

:::::

Blount laughed also then and asked mischievously, "How:;:

did you do it?"

-\[

"Very easily no, not easily either; I would not do it again::

for myself, but I will make one for you, auntie. The mate-::

rial is an old, worn, black silk dress and lint cotton. I rav

eled the silk up, then mixed with the fine white cotton and

carded all together till thoroughly blended; when spun and

woven it forme da beautiful texture of gray, soft and silkish

tj the touch. The best of the worn silk was put by for card

ing and covering the buttons with. I don't mind telling it-

the buttons are made of pasteboard, and the dress is 'real

pretty,' I think."

" My goodness!" said Blount, substituting that expression

for the more emphatic expletive in vogue among gentlemen.

But to Julia it was an entirely novel expression, and in all

innocence she s.iid, " Your what?"

Latan6 Lmghed and again said: ''What did I tell you,

Blount? You have had fair warning."

And thus the evening passed in speeches abounding in

humor, when spoken as "small-talk," but seeming without

sense or interest when written.

In spite of the storm and its ravages, Latane did not fail

to attend a wedding at " The Quarters" that night, and the

whole party went with him. The scene was a novel one to

Julia, whose acquaintance with plantation life was very

ip:

ETOWAH.

171

g;pmited, owing to her father's views about slavery. These Siihegro " quarters" were not unlike those on plantations :i;iusually. It consisted of a village in itself, where the hun: :: dreds of negroes dwelt together in comfortable white cottages i: built on both sides a wide street. Each cottage had a garden : attached; also a poultry yard, and very frequently a pig-sty
and cow-pen. The master usually paid cash to his slaves for all the poultry used by his family, and frequently butter was bought from them in the same way. In "clear ings,'' much wood was left on the ground, and all the wood i not burned on the spot was given to the slaves. On Satur days frequently and on certain nights in the week, the teams were loaned to them, and they hauled this wood to the river bank in their own time, and sold it to the river steamers, receiving and retaining for pocket-money the money received therefor. In some instances a single slave would thus accu mulate several hundred dollars in a s : ngle year; and, if he desired to purchase his freedom and had the money for which he could be sold, he could always do so. They raised large families, lived to a great age usually, and increased rapidly in numbers under this system of labor.
Not one individual there gave a thought to the morrow, or to the war that was desolating thousands of happy homes; unless it was the tall, perfectly black young negro man who stood aloof, and seemed to be frowning upon it all. Turn which way she would, Julia could see his look of disdain, but whether it was his antagonism to the presence of these white strangers, or a deeper feeling of impatience at slavery itself, she could not decide.
As they left the Quarters and returned to Mrs. Latane's home, she asked: "Captain Latane, what is the name of

172

ETOWAH.

;;!;

that tall, young black man who stood in the opposite comer!

of the chapel, as if to hold himself aloof from the dancers.";;!

"His name is Hallback," said Latan6; "he has been with:!

me in the army and, for some unknown reason, seems i**!

think himself superior to the other negroes."

:;!

"Idon't like his looks," said Julia; "are you going to take!

him back with you ?"

!

"Oh, yes," replied Latane; "Hall is very humble in hip

manner to me; is obedient, and as fearless in battle as the :

bravest soldiers are. But he is a mystery to me, just as his;;

name is. He was born here on the plantation, both of his;;

parents dying shortly after his birth. My father gave him to.;;

me when I was ten years old, and he has recognized his po ;

sition as my servant all his life. I played with him as a ;

child, and he used to prevent mo from imposing upon him ;

by stating that I was stronger than he was by being born hi-;!

master, though he was the stronger physicially. He would ;

never resent any blow if he thought I was angry, until I

got to thinking it was ungenerous to get angry with Hall.

He has always said that he belonged to me, but if I sold him

he would die before he would belong to any one else."

"I don't like his looks," said Julia; "I have a presentiment

that he will play you false yet."

"I do not fear it," said Latane. "If Hall, makes up his

mind to leave me he will quietly tell me so, and he will do

it if he can. If he remains faithful until the war ends I in

tend to give him his freedom."

CHAPTER XVI.
FUCHSIAS AND GERANIUMS.
Early the next morning Latan drove Miss Bearing to her father's home in the city.
The birds were now singing in chorus, it seemed, as the bright sunlight bathed the hills and dales and made the dew glisten like diamonds. The great poplars arid forest trees had donned their summer dress of green, and (he buds lud burst into full bloom. The forest was redolent with the per fume of w'l 1 flowers, and nature had painted her glowing colors on leaf and twig and flowers in delightful contrasts varit d, yet harmonious.
The darker foliage of the chestnuts and cedars greeted the pines, whcse lofty heads bowed to each other and, sighing, dropped their "needles" to the ground. The cattle went lowing to the pastures, and the meadows were fragrant with new-mown hay.
As they entered Colonel Leslie's estate," Thronateeska," the sun rise shore in the clouds widened its limits till it belted the heavens and scattered gems upon the river as the ripples chased each other and danced in the sunlight. Near by the river was wide and placid as a lake; beyond, it was a succes sion of cataracts rapidly succeeding each other and dashing the foam on high; in front, and a hundred feet beneath the level plateau, was the city of Etowah and the huge factories which afforded employment to five thousand operatives. Now they neared the residence at "Thronateeska," its spa cious grounds elaborately ornamented with all that the cost-

174

ETOWAH,

.::j;!i

liest landscape art affords. Japonicas grew there the year!

round, and the lawn was sodded with blue grass and extend-;;:!

ed quite to the water's edge. Far up the stream could W\i

seen the many islands which dotted the picturesque river;!

like emerald gems. After an animated conversation, Julmi!

asked:

: : ::

"Is your friend, Major Blount, a flirt?"

;|:

"No; far from it. Blount has never pretended to be iai;;

love with any one, and when he does he will be sincere. He-;

is the noblest-hearted fellow I ever knew."

::

"I am glad to know that he is too manly for that; it is bad:;

enough in a woman, but I think it utterly contemptible in:

a man." Then Julia changed the subject, having learned all:

that she wished to know concerning Major Blount. She

was very bright and agreeable and Latane began to envy the

interest which his friend had excited. She told him how

much she admired gallantry in battle, alluding to Hugh, but

meaning it for him, and declared she never would marry a

man who had not distinguished himself as a Confederate

soldier.

As they stopped in a bend of the road to view the scenery,

the clattering of hoofs was heard approaching, and in a few

moments the graceful figure of Clara Leslie galloped up, fol

lowed by Giles, the groom.

The old groom was devoted to his young mistres?, and, as.

Clara was not stopped by Julia and Henry Latane, who bow

ed to her as she passed, the old negro rode up to them and

said: "Good mornin', Miss Julia; mornin', Captain Latane;,

p'raps you all didn't know Miss Clara," Then, seeing Hen

ry's crutches, he added: "Sorry to see you are hurt, Mars

Henry ; hope your leg won't have to come off; glad to see you

back home, sir. Mornin', Miss Julia; mornin',Mars Henry.

;; ;;'

ETOWAH.

175

::: I must catch up with Miss Clara, and tell her you all didn't ; .know who she was, she was ridin' by so fast," and the old : ; groom left them? ;: "A pretty good lecture/' said Latane. But his heart did '; not echo the light speech. His face had blanched as white : , as Clara's, who came near falling as she saw the crutches of
(he wounded soldier. She had not heard of his return, and did not know that he had been wounded. What would she not do to fathom this mystery which separated her from the only man she loved ?
"Why did you and Clara go through that pantomime, Captain Latane ? I hope you have not quarreled; I thought you were good friends," said Julia.
''Eeally I did not expect to see her, and did not know her at first. I never quarreled with a woman in my life, and Miss Leslie is the last one with whom I could find fault," said Latane, very soberly.
"Excuse me; I did not mean to be inquisitive, but Clara is such a swtet-tempered, lovely girl that I wonder that any man can know her and not fall in love with her."
"Has she not many admirers ? She is certainly even more beautiful than she was two years ago when I last saw her. I fully agree with you in your good opinion of her," he answered.
For once Julia was misled. This calm, quiet demeanor as he alluded thus to Clara showed the resolution of the man, and did not betray the struggle which was going on in his heart. Clara's manner was not that of a callous, heartless flirt, but rather of one who uncomplainingly had suffered an injury. The same sweet, cheerful smile brightened her lovely face as she recognized her cousin's face, only to die

176

ETOWAH.

:\m

away into a pallor too sudden not to be heartfelt, as slip

recognized him.

:: !

The birds still twitted in the wood, and the flowers assl:

honeysuckles made the air fragrant with perfume, whiles

the morning breeze brought the aroma of newly-plow^S:

fields. But the bright sunny day had lost its charm foss

Henry Latane. This estrangement was utterly incomp>:5:

hensible, and he half resolved to go immediately to ses;l

Clara and ask for an explanation. A chance remark ofs

Julia Dearing just then goaded him inexpressibly. "Idftsi

hope," said she, "that the reported engagement betweeal

Clara and that Mr. Barnum is not true. It would be such ;;

a pity if she were to marry a Yankee officer. I can't bfr :

lieve it is true, but she is so reticent I can't find out. I;

know, though, that he addressed her; I am quite sure of j

that, but I am in doubt as to whether she refused him."

This, then, explained it all! It was the consciousness,

that she had wronged him that caused her sudden emotion,

He would rival her now; he would do all in his power to

win Julia Dearing, and would show Clara Leslie that he

was not as weak as she deemed him to be. Such were

Henry Latane's thoughts, and for the'first time in his life :

he wore a mask. The next day he had a serious fall, which

confined him to his room for sometime. Major Blount di

vided his time between Julia Dearing and Latane.

Delicacy forbade his asking his friend why the " affair,"

as he termed it, had been broken off, but evidently it had

been. Hence Blount did not make Clara's acquaintance

but he lost no time in cultivating Julia's.

The last night of his stay at " Chestatee" an 'unexpected

treat awaited Julia and interrupted her slumbers. Below

her window Major Blount's rich, well-trained voice accom

1|;

ETOWAH.

177

ll-panied the guitar, of which instrument he was an accom :i::p!ished master, as he sang the following serenade composed if; fey himself:

Z\'.

-

SERENADE.

; ; I come from a land afar, a land where soft guitar

:

And.the magic flute

; ;;' Beply to harper's strain, reply with love's refrain,

:::

Reply with sweet salute.

:: Bright stars of tropic sky, full moon slow sailing by

:.

On peaceful azure sea ;

:;i Aid now the minstrel's lay, where is my lady say

Oh! stars, tell this to me.

Dear eyes of deepest blue, dear heart so fondly true, Sweet little lily hand;
Would I could clasp again, form, hand and heart in mine, Then life might fleetly end!

Where does my lady sleep ? may angels vigils keep Over my lady's rest;
Sweet be her slumbers deep, may no dark troubles sweep Over my lady's breast!
She threw open the blinds, the better to listen to the sweet : strains of melody until they died away in the solt asolian
whispers of the night-wind, and she thought: " This has been indeed the happiest day in my life.". And for a long time after his departure the memory of his bright, cheerful, witty conversation and attractive presence lingered pleas antly. Had she met her match at last? It seemed so, though not one word of love had he uttered. But she saw it in his eyes, in his every act and speech, and the atten tions of no other man had affected her so agreeably.
A few days later Julia carried the invalid some flowers, gathered from her own hot-house and from the forest.
12

178

ETOWAH.

--111I

" These fuchsias and geraniums, though," she addedx!^|||

ing them to him separately, "I got at 'Thronatee3||i|l

where Clara's geraniums are growing beautifully in the:|||p

air."

1||I

Latan6 received them with evident appreciation. -Niilil

Mrs. Latane was present when Julia gave the flowerp|p

her son, who was reclining upon a lounge in the

and she did not fail to notice a day or two after that

the vase was replenished with fresh flowers, the

and geraniums had been carefully pressed by Latane, a

for preservation, while the other flowers were left to:;

servant who replenished the vases.

:

" No one will ever know of it," he thought; " in two wg

I will be with my command in Virginia, and I'll keep

flowers pressed" in my Bible to remind me of" gratits|p:

admonished him to Bay "Julia," but love changed the uttepl

ance to " Clara."

:::||

The revelations which Julia had made concerning Bafe-i

num's attachment for Clara, which she believed to be redj||

rocated, astonished him greatly. He had not anticipate!!

this at least, and he said to himself:

-i^l

" If this be true, then I will lose all confidence in the sts||

bility of any woman. But why on earth will she thinks?l

marrying an utter stranger? Does she can she know an|s|i

thing of his family? Can her father so soon change all tUf

prejudices, one may say, of a lifetime, and give his daughter!

away to a stranger of whose lineage of whose immediate coii|

nectionseven he knows absolutely nothing?"

" ; ::f

And the more he pondered over it, the more mystified he: s

became. He knew nothing of Barnum except what was ii*;;

his credit, for he had always seemed to him to be a noblfeil

hearted fellow and a gentleman. But his sister was certainly.::

;.:

ETOWAH.

179

lp wife of a jeweler and watch-maker. "How will Miss Clara like that kind of association ?" he asked himself.
-Of what are you thinking, my son?" asked his mother. piering the r 'Om in the midst of these reveries.
"Frankly, mother, my thoughts trouble me greatly; Miss sfaliahas intimated to me that Miss Clara Leslie is engaged ijii be married to Barnum; you have heard me speak of him, ijaye you not?" :: "Certainly," answered his mother, smiling at the thought, :$irthe idea gave her great pleasure, as she desired that his Jhoughts should turn to Julia rather than to Clara. "Cer tainly," she added, "and I do not think I ever heard you paise any one, except Mr. Blount, so extravagantly." |:|| "But, mother, you surely don't think the report can be lime, do you ?" I; "Why not? If he is all that you say he is, he will make a. liaodel husband, I think." ::: : "Yes, but, mother, his family have you thought about iiat? They are watch-makers at least his brother-in-law is

!.;:;- "Put aside those foolish prejudices my son; in the North :::ihey do not attach the importance to such matters that we h-ibolish Southerners do. Vanderbilt was a common boatman :xnd who is better than he in social circles ? Who entertained i:he Prince of Wales recently when he visited this country ? ::?be daughter of a millionaire, who made his money by hotel :. keeping in New York city." As she said this she stooped down and kissed the forehead of her handsome son. ;' Latane" laugbed. "Mother, I am glad that you are becom ing superior to our provincial prejudices. I know a prettyyoung milliner in Richmond, and all the scruples I have had about proposing to her have now vanished. I declare

180

ETOWAH.

she is one of the handsomest and most charming girls

acquaintance, and when you see her, I am sure ----" ;::::|J

"Hush," said his mother, placing her hand on his lii|||

"No more of that, an' thou lovest me Hal'. In truth, tap

son, I think differently when my own children are concerneoP

but----"

.

"

"It is just as I thought," he said, laughing as he spopl

CHAPTER XVII.

S;

"Through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault

::;::

' The pealing anthem swells the notes of praise."

:;; The great cathedral is crowded, and resounds with the

::: world's most magnificent hymn, Kyrie Eleison. The censer

;; swings to and fro, and robed priests, attended by acolyte?,

H perform those imposing ceremonies which take yonder

; :': :kneeling figure, young and pure as the first breath of spring,

:;from all the pleasure and joys of social life and consecrate ; her to God.

The postulants were clad in pure white, decorated with

orange blossoms. Three little girls carrying flowers pre-

: ceded the candidates upon their entrance to the chapel, Be-

: hind them came the Sisters of the convent To the strains

of solemn music the procession marched slowly up the aisle

tothe altar where, the Right Reverend Bishop and his assist^

ant were waiting. Tapers trimmed with orange were placed

in stands while the postulants were prayed for.

The crowd looked on with awe and admiration, mingled

with pity, that so fresh and lovely a blossom should be

plucked so soon.

"Who is she?" asked one, addressing a young girl who

seemed to know her.

" It is Kate Barnum, my school-mate; she is only sixteen

years old, and the sweetest girl in all the school," she replied

" What school do you attend ? "

" The Convent of the Sacred heart."

" Are there no others to take the white veil this season ?"

182

ETOWAH.

;;;;

" No, sir; Kate has not seemed the same girl since:

brother, Lieutenant Charles Barnum, was killed in the

battle. Her parents are poor, but they must be as nice js|p

pie as live in New York."

Again the great organ peals forth its melody;

crowd throng the aisle and slowly departs.

. Pill

It is done; the sacrifice is made, and one more beauif||f;;;;;

virgin enters upon her novitiate.

i:iilil

. Mysterious self-immolation! Pure young heart! Tltell

art the incarnation of heroism, sweet, gentle martyr! ;:;;:;|1

" Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal ,- H;;;;;;;?;

Into wounds that cannot heal,

;:Hll

Even as sleep our eyes doth seal;

Vis;;

" And that smiles, like sunshine, dart

Into many a sunless heart;

;;;.;.;

For a smile of God thou art."

..;;.;!

Picture to yourself, gentle reader, who live in the " pipiagif

times of peace," the feelings of Barnum's venerable parents,;;

You who have seen how poor humanity forgets the heroic

valor and self-sacrifices of the gallant soldiers who yielded;;

all for their country; you who have seen the non-combafei

ants who devoted those gallant years to the selfish accumu-

lation of riches while their hired substitutes fought their i

country's .battles; you who have seen the unknown Confeti-i;

erate dead neglected, the living Confederate maimed-wgleetefk^

and time-serving sycophants yield homage and grant

honors to those who used the war as a means of accumulat

ing wealth: imagine, if you can, their anxiety. They had;

heard nothing from their absent son--had received none of

the letters written by him.)

;

One day the blow came sudden and startling. The New ;

York Tribune contained a list of the killed at Bull Ran,

f|p: : :

ETOWAH.

183

fllpl among them was that of Adjutant Charles Barnum. ftiPijen followed a glowing tribute to the heroic Adjutant Ifflsmum, who fell while cheering on his men. The colonel If58? his regiment wrote the obituary notice, eulogizing the liSpsineat capabilities of this promising young officer. The IIMdiers of his company passed resolutions of condolence 0aad forwarded them to his aged parents, certifying to his Ifipersonal bravery and popularity. Months passed and no 0-;;i'ittews came to contradict this report. Months passed and |::still crape [hung from his father's door. And within, the :; mother, dressed in deep mourning, rocked herself to and fro
like Eachel, and like Rachel would not be comforted. But that mother's heart never lost hope. She cherished
: as the most precious of all things the hope born of the un certainty of the report that Charles was dead; and her
:: thoughts would constantly revert to that comforting assur ance in the Book of Life, " Thus saith the Lord: refrain
: thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears; for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy child shall come again
; to his own border." And this Rachel never lost hope--never lost the thought of the silver lining to the grief-clouds; the rainbow that irradiates the heavens after the storm; the monitor that whispers cheer to the surcharged heart; that lifts up the despairing soul and commands it to " be brave, be noble, be worthy of the love that thou hast lost!" That mother clung to the hope which " hoped against hope," which had been rejected by all others as a mirage which deceived. That mother's heart still clung to hope like faith clinging to the "Rock of Ages," enduring, suffer ing, trusting, and never ceased saying: "I mourn for him

184

.

ETOWAH.

"but Charles is alive." Oh, the wealth.of love that

a -mother's heart!

.

; s|ll

A few more silver hairs are added day-by-day to a m8t|iei;|

head, a few more and deeper lines are 'graved by sorrow Mpi

a father's furrowed face!

-..

: ::iill

The mother's tears will fall at times in spite of he^sg||

blinding as she sits there alone in her room that she feill

again and again to thread her.: needle, and murmurs to hspl

self: "Ah, me!.-I can hardly see well enough to sew," '.--I!

The father's hand, in consonance with his grief-chargei!

bosom, is at times:so tremulous that the delicate parts of-m

watch are misplaced or a .spring broken ; or the dew of go;*::!

TOW is collected on his eye-glass, so that the aged silversmiiljK

can scarcely see.



. . .

;;;;.;;;

"I'm getting old, like a worn-out clock," he mutters^

" The sands of time go regularly in the hour-glass, but life;::

seems dreary now that my hope, my pride gave his life fr>r::;

his country!" The old man takes out his silk handkerchief ii

ostensibly to wipe his glasses, reader, but sometimes tieN!

handkerchief is borne to his eyes, apparently that he may-^

see the better, really to hide his depth of sorrow from yonderii

careless and prying customer, and the old man thought: ..;;;;;

" Still waters run deep--aye, they do they do! "

;::::

The fountain of sorrow is dried up by loss of wife or child,::::

and misery, in its last analysis, is tearless. Their prop an!::::

support is gone, and they are readjr, too, to sink into the::

grave.

: ;;;;;;

"But no, our daughter!"

:::::

Thus thought and felt the aged couple. And the young:::

maiden, impressed by the solemn surroundings of convent:::

life, for the first time dwells upon the poverty of her parent^!!!

"Can they, now that brother Charles is dead, support-:::

ETOWAH.

,

'

185

" Persuades herself that she is a heavy burden to , and, encouraged by the good, kind "Sisters" and the liiisaitly " Mother-Superior," she resolves to take the veil. Hi'; Tte gazettes had done their work in New York. The isgBiae of Lieutenant Barnum had been published among the
IIM.
t;-;;: : Now, once again through the clattering streets of New p:ork city he approached the home of his father, the venerpable silversmith. ?:;: No period of. time since his exchange and release from imiii imprisonment seemed so long as that ride from the ferry to iiiithat not distant and humble home. No loneliness is equal ii to that feeling of being alone at night while riding through iiiithe miles of brilliantly-lighted streets of a great city like iiMew York. One year before, he had gone forth as adjutant iii.ofthe ---- New York Volunteers, his military training at iiiihe Military Institute having fitted him for that office. Then ;; followed the incidents we have related after the terrible bat:-tIe, in which his regiment was almost annihilated; all of : which came before his mind like a panorama rather than a irreality. He was still ignorant of the announcement of his i: death in the New York papers, and had hurried to New York i- :as soon as his exchange was effected. Crape was still hang: ing at the door of his father's house, and he was so overcome by his fears concerning his father, mother and sister that .some minutes elapsed before he could enter. It was after twilight, and darkness had just cast its shadow over the earth. He was ignorant of all that had transpired in that home during his absence. Just one week before, in spite of the protestations of friends, his sister had taken the veil, the pre liminary step to renouncing the world with all its pleasures and hopes. Entering quietly, he proceeded through the hall

186

BTOWAH.

to the dining-room, where there was a light. He

softly as possible, schooling himself the while so as io: prepared to hear the dreaded announcement as calml

possible. Which of the loved ones had died ? He paijsg||

and looked in; his aged father sat in his accustomed

but oh! so much older and more care-worn than he

he last saw him. The old man held one hand between

iire and his face to shield his eyes from the glare,

in a reverie. His one constant, saddened thought, his 4s|

.soldier-boy, was dragging him to the grave. His motMsi|

back was turned toward him, but she, too, seemed bo'v?e

down with grief and care.

:.;;;;s

Alas! was it his only sister, then, who had died?

::;;H

Tears trickled down his face as he made one quick ste

forward and said, with choking voice, "father--dearest

mother!"

/: :

The plate dropped from his mother's hands, as with a lo

.moan and out-stretched arms, she rushed to her son an&

would have fallen at his feet had he not caught her to Mg :

.breast as only a son can under such circumstances. She did::

not-faint, nor did she utter another sound, but looked u]

fondly in his face and stroked his cheeks and head caressing*

ly, for not one moment had she ever lost hope entirely thai;

her son might still be alive. Laying her head on his shoulder:

.she wept with "joy. This Rachel was comforted at last.::

The father arose, but fell back again, and mutely gazed at

the affecting scene, and rubbed his hands together as if it

was all unreal--a happy dream to be terribly shattered by

.awaking thoughts. And not until his son had time and

.again spoken did the old man say : "Come hither, Charles,

my son, my very son--God is good !"

"Sister, my darling sister ?" was Charles' answer as he

||;:'

ETOWAH.

. 187

liaelt by his father. "Well and safe," replied his mother, Unwilling to mar this joyful reunion by telling him that |;;glje had taken the veil. I;;; Now the old people, satisfied with his identity, made him f ;|ake a chair between them, each holding a hand. "Talk, flay son, talk," said the father, "and tell us how the grave |::fe8 given up its dead." "But wait," he added, and going :::::fo the door he took off the crape hanging there, and return;;flag with it said : "No need for this now, Eliza; no need ;:; for this now !" ;;;; Surely Rembrandt had never a better candle-light scene :: than this, and his brush alone could have done justice to
]:#,.
;; The mantle of age seemed suddenly lifted from their ;;,shoulders, and that love which places the smile of youth on
the faces of the old seemed to have rejuvenated these worthy ;;:old people. :: The approach of the Prince of Wales as envoy of his : : mother, the Empress of India, in her eastern dominions, is greeted with salvos of artillery, and thousands of moving flags and a hundred thousand cheers from multitudes assembled to do him honor, or to greet his safe return; but that is not equal to a precious heart-welcome like this.
The world reclaimed its own. Sister Kate was reclaimed from her voluntary sacrifice; the bloom returned to her cheeks, the smile to her lips, the laugh to her heart, for "brother Charles" had been restored to life and to her. Life was no more to her a period of penance for sins uncom mitted. The Mother-Superior and the gentle "Sisters" willingly saw her go back to the world which she was so fat ted to adorn and to bless, and happiness reigned where mis ery had set its seal.

CHAPTER XVIII.

::;;!

/He who would find the truest friendship, the highest |g|j|i

oiunselfishness, must go into the homes of the poor. )~Th!e|||

the ineffable charm of charity illumines the poorly fuiSls

ished cottage like the rainbow after the gloom of the storKp;

It is of such a home and such a character that we have nap:;

to do, for of such a charity was the soul of old Mrs. Higgirig;;;;

illumined.

::;;

"My dear child, I've come to warn you against that youBfi;

man."

i:::

"Which young man, Mrs. Higgins? Do you allude to!::

Thomas Radclifi?"

'

M

"No, Agnes, no : Thomas is one of the best workers in tlie::

mill, and would make you a good husband; I wish yott::

would encourage him more than you do; you know he loves;::

you devotedly."

:

Agnes Vincent stopped washing the dishes, was silent::

a few moments, then said: "Mr. Radcliff has never told me;::

that he loved me. Besides, I never wish to marry until I am:::

in love myself."

:!:;::

She had grown to be a very handsome young woman, am}; ;;i;

was generally acknowledged to be the prettiest girl in the iac-;;;

tory village, in spite of the care of a dependent family which;;;

had devolved upon her chiefly since her mother's death. Mrs_;

Higgins had risen from her chair and, putting her hand on:::

the girl's shoulder, said: "Agnes, I was your mother's best:;:

friend--unless it be Mrs. Latane, God bless her!--and I have;;;

come here to warn you, child, against that young man! ;;

ETOWAH.

189

whom you love and how you love; but remember, j bread and meat helps folks to love powerful) Love :; <ssi't go to bed on a hungry stomach, and enjoy it. i ;; "Young folks will be young folks, but all folks grow old iisiid experience is the best laming. I've come here, though, ;: its) mind you against that young man ! " As the old woman (said this she shook her stick in a threatening manner in the Direction of the Potts mansion, which overlooked Pottsville, : as the village where the operatives lived was called. : "Why, Mrs. Higgins! how can you be so unjust to young :. Mr. Potts ? I think he is the best and kindest young man ; I know. He pays me more for my work and requires me to ;.' :ifFork less than any of the girls in the factory." : " That's what I say, too! that's what other eyes than your'n ;; have been seein', and other tongues than mine have been talkin' about young Potts' 'tentions and kindness to you ! I want to put you on your guard against that young man," shaking her stick more emphatically than ever, as she spoke. Agnes burst into tears. "Oh! Mrs. Higgins," she said, "I wouldn't be disrespectful to you for anything, for I never see you Avithout thinking of my poor mother. But you are so unjust to Mr. Potts. He has explained it all to me--says he sees how hard a burden mine is, and he wants to lighten it as much as he can. He would do the same thing for any of the girls whose mother and father were dead and who had to support her little sisters and brothers ; indeed he would, for he told me so. And then he comes here to see me, and talks so kindly to me and the children. Last Sunday evening he saw me down at the spring and insisted on bringing the bucket of water up the hill to the house! And in truth, Mrs. Higgins, I never did have such a friend." "Well, Agnes, I hope you never will have such another!

190

BTOWAH.

;;;|

I've done my duty to your dead mother. I tell you tBs|

young Potts won't do! no, nur his father before him, for sl|

his prayin' and palaverin'! He don't mean you no gofsi

child; and you'll find it out soon enough! Good-bye, Agnes,'!

said the old woman, wiping her eyes with the corner

apron. "Good-bye; may the Lord take care of you!"

Agnes had not told the whole story to Mrs. Higgins;

Sunday evening Wellington Napoleon Potts had lingered w!fi

the cottage until the dusk of twilight. He had played wiMl

the children as if they were his kith and kin, although e:;:;:

military martinet was ever stricter than he when connected!

with the great cotton factory. No other family was visit- N;

ed by him, and he was ever haughty with the other opern::

atives, checking instantly the slightest approach to famil- ;:

iarity. He was a despot in the small sphere in which he ii

moved, and was cordially hated by his employees. Agnes i

had accompanied him to the gate and he had pressed her :

hand as he bade her good-night and complimented her upon

her beauty.

:

She blushed and seemed confused. " What did it mean?'7 :

she asked herself, and long after the children had gone to

sleep, she remained awake thinking of the good, kind-hearted :

Mr. Potts, who had taken such a deep interest in her. The

rosy God fanned her smiles into dreams, and she dreamed of;

love. Weeks passed and these little attentions increased, and

she began to miss them when he would allow an entire week

to pass by without coming to see "how thelittle oneswere get

ting on." He punctually attended his Bible-class and these

children belonged to it. His voice, however harsh to others,

was ever gentle to her, and his eyes lingered upon her when

ever she passed him. He noticed, too, that she blushed be

neath his ardent gaze.

ffp:

ETOWAH.

191

pi:-Again Mrs. Higgins entered the room; this time Agnes pSiss sitting alone looking into the fire, evidently in deepIPissught and the thought was evidently pleasing to her. pi: "Agnes," said Mrs. Higgins. 11;:. The girl started and seemed surprised, for latterly Mrs11 Higgins had seemed to avoid her. |;1: "Come in, Mrs. Higgins; you are always welcome." p "Agnes, I did not come to sit down, but to tell you that PThomas Kadcliff is ready and anxious to marry you. He Pold me to tell you so. He says he has tried very hard to do pit himself but. that you always repulse him and look so l|>roud-like that he hesitates to tell you that he loves you ilias an honest man should love a true, honest woman. Will ; ::;you marry Thomas, child ?" ;::;; "Mrs. Higgins, I do not love Thomas Radcliff, and he :: knows it. I will never marry anybody I don't love." ::: "Good-bye, then, Agnes; I have done my duty to your ::: dead mother and to the living Thomas! May the Lord take :::care of you, Agnes ! Mind you don't learn to love that young ;man ; if you do, may the good Lord help you!" : As Mrs. Higgins left the cottage Agnes returned to her ; ;'cbair and looked into the fire, and great big tears came slow; ly to her eyes. " It is so.hard," thought Agnes, "that every body should turn against me just because I like Mr. Potts. Do I love him? Yes I do! and I know he loves me, though he has not told me so. I would not give one smile from him for all the praises of everybody !" As she sat thus aipon the plain split-bottomed chair, her hands beneath her chin, look ing into the coals which glowed brightly, time passed with out her reckoning it.
The door of the cottage was near the fire-place and Well-

192

ETOWAH.

ington Napoleon Potts entered the room without he : ;3ti||

ticing it.

The meanest of mankind was a child once, and was

and caressed on a mother's breast, and the dead motbes:||||

Wellington Napoleon Potts was a gjod woman, sadly

to a hargh man. Agreeable, ;md even subservient ta:;i||||||

world at large, he had been a tyrant in the home-circle, ag|

fear supplanted love where love should have reigned si

preme. The meanest of mankind can love; but selfishfi||

dwarfs love, and selfishness was the most prominent

the character of Wellington Napoleon Potts. He had

to school iu Washington City, where liberty is construed

mean license, and he had not been unobservant of the"

of gentlemen," notably made manifest by senators and regsS;

resentatives, whose official position shields them from arrest.;!

It needed no Asmodeus now to guide this sanctimonious!

Lothario in following the example of these seigneurs. He!

stood behind the chair with admiring eyes, then softlv ca*:;:

r-'s-ed her head. She arose quickly with frightened look,;:

but he re-assured her with the words:

::

" Do not be alarmed; no one shall hurt you while I am :

here."

!

His eyes arrested hers, and she seemed under a spell like-;;

that of the poor, fluttering little bird which flies round and:

round the glittering eyes of the serpent until it is irresistibly

drawn into the fata] snare. Recovering herself at last, she

said in a pleading tone:

" I've been warned against you."

His only reply was to place his arm around her waist, and

drawing her to him, ask her if she thought he would harm

one whom he loved so dearly.

" Do you really love me--love me honestly ?" she asked.

s: ;:

ETOWAH.

193

l:i;:*Can you doubt it, my darling ? I have come to ask you lpbemy wife. Tell me nothing about your humble station. lifaow that you return my love, and you shall be mine." lfiHer head sank on his shoulder as her form was drawn to illigj-and he kissed her passionately. Sbe trembled--trembled
ike the sensitive-plant, and well she might! lliCould Faust have witnessed that passionate kiss he would luve laughed with more diabolical glee than when Margue;5';';fe. succumbed. That was the Ios3 of ono pejrl above price; jifys the beginning of the ruin of the support of a dependent ;i;jtpily. A few moon-lit walks; a thousand oaths to love, ihanor and protect; a promise to marry her, and the n the old, J.:<-ld story.
:;:;Mt id a few months later. : "What a lovely face that girl has, "said Julia Bearing riding with Potts one day. " It is one of the faces Carlo Dolce t:ok f-om real life, perhaps from the
:: peasantry of Italy, and transferred to his canvas as Ma:: :cbnnas. Did you ever notice the sad b.'auty of the Ma:::donnas painted by Carlo Dolce, Mr. Potts? I think no one iheyer painted sadness as he did, and no one knew better the iefficacy of blue colors in painting. That girl's sweet, mel^ancholy face recalls his Madonnas more than any face I ;::Cver saw. Pray, who is she? She can't be an operative; :'-ker face is too refined."
Potts winced at this remark; he, too, had seen that sad, reproachful glance, as the wronged Agnes looked steadily at him as he rode past with this dashing equestrienne, and his heart smote him for his perfidy. It was with assumed care lessness that he replied:
"Yes; f.>!:e is en operative, and is considered the village belle."
13

194

ETOWAH.

" I declare," said Julia, looking back; " the poor girl i

ing; I kuow she is a good girl; no one but a good

can have such a face as hers."

.:;;;

" I wish she was in Hades!" thought Potts, but he quie|

answered: " She is doubtless thinking of her mother

Mrs. Latane was so kind. Seeing you ride past with

radi-mt beauty, doubtless, recalled to her some other;4s||

wh< n she saw you," said he.

ilil

"Is that Agnes Vincent? I must ride back and speak i|

her. I would not wound that noble girl's heart for a kas|s

dom!" said Julia. "I will wait for you, then, until

return," said Potts; " I see enough of the operatives

spoiling a pleasure-ride to greet tbem." This was said iaial;

half-appealing tone, but Julia would not, or did not, unite-!

stand him, so she said: " You shall do no such thing! ysSg

must go with me and introduce me to her."

: ;;;;|;

"Introduce you to a factory girl!" said Potts in.amasssi

ment.

:: :|

"Yes, certainly; why shouldn't you? I am sure I fell

honored in making the acquaintance of one of nature's sife;-;:

blewomen; her devotion to her demented mother makes her ;:;:

a heroine in my ryes," and, suiting action to word, she turned;;;;

her horse and galloped back. There was no help for it arsi;;;

Potts followed. How he did curse the innocent author si';;;

this ill-timed meeting. He had ridden with Julia arouffil;;;

through tbe village in order to impress her with his pros-,

pective wealth and actual business qualifications. He now

wished he had never seen Julia or Agnes. Agnes was con

fused and embarrassed when Julia rode up to her.

"Agnes," said Pott?, "this is Miss Dearing." Julia's in

dignant glance at the speaker smote him like the lash upon

the back of the criminal in the pillory. She instantlv said :

ITM::

ETOWAH.

195

IP J am so glad to know you, Miss Vincent; I saw you nursSsg your sick mother and have been wanting to tell you how iiiirobly you performed a daughter's part. I have no moth< r liiaad we can sympathize with each other. You muso not ISesitate to come to see me, and I will take great pleasure in liiieturning your call as often as you come." P: "You are very kind, Miss Bearing, very kind to speak thus I: :fo a poor girl like me! I am sure I appreciate it; you must i:::inot think I do not if I fail to accept your invitation." Then. ;: ilgnes burst into tears and, to spare her feelings, Julia rode
;,;:;off.
: "For shame, Mr. Potts! How could you introduce Agnes Vincent to me as if she was a servant ?" "You are a strange girl, ML's Julia; who would think a proud beauty like you--and you are the proudest girl I ever saw--you, an heiress--who would think that you would put yourself on an equality with a factory girl?" "For shame! for shame! I wish I could put myself on an equality with her. She is one of those devoted charac ters that we read of in novels, but seldom see in real life. There are some rich people unworthy to tie her shoes, and I feel humble when in her presence." This was a new revelation to Potts. He had never had the faintest idea before that there was any criterion of merit but success, and success with him meant wealth. Agnes Vincent was as beautiful as the Virgin described by Tasso, although she was but a factory girl. Potts had been her teacher in the Bible-class at Sundavschool, and, like Kousseau's young teacher, he had been guilty of outraging hospitality. "Instead of instructing he cor rupts; instead of protecting he poisons; he permits himself to be thanked by an abused mother who has lost her child.

196

ETOWAH.

;!;;;;

One feeld sometimes that passion has blindly overcome theffii:

her youth does not excuse her, and, in spite of his grasll

discourse, he can only be a scoundrel. The two may maMl

excuses, but the mother alone is responsible "

;;;;f

Agnes Vincent had no mother. She did have a de*l!

mother's children dependent upon her for support and moral;;

guidance. But, alas I hi r step is slower now as she goes anil

comes from work. Her cheery voice no longer sings wi||l

the early ma'in birds as she prepares the frugal meal 0.

the little family gathered around t1 e humble pine tate:-

'The rosy hue on Ler cheeks is not as bright as it wasJ-J(|i

ier figure is still more charming-J-tas the bud blooms intotkei;

.flower.' There is a gentle r look, at times, in those deep blag;!

eyes, and then a long'ng look as if seeking some expected:::::

loved one. Often a big, pearly tear creeps down her cheek-?;;:;

as she sews on the girments intended for her d;ar little::

sister-. Her head is bent forward eagerly; she hears a foot-:::

step; is up--meets him, and is clasped in his arms! Theit::

s-he forgets all save her love for him; his crime--her sin, too;::

innocent almost to bs called a sin--and tells him she -will;;;

follow him over the world if need b?, and he sees her lifefe:

inwoven with his. At length she weeps; the month ha*;;

passed - two months, and still he procrastinates! Three;;

months! and he rides with Julia Dearing! his manner to::

her no longer as it was. Her grief culminates in misery,:

All shun her, even Mrs. Higgins; ' ,0h, for the_rarity of Chris-;

, tian charity!" All, a": l treat her as if she was a leper!

"Yes, stone the woman--let the man go free!/ Draw back your skirts lest they perchance May touch her garments as she passes, But to him put f rth a willing hand, To clasp with his that led her to destruction

ETOWAH.

197

And disgrace. Shut up from her the sacred

:

Ways of toil, that she no more may win au

Honest meal but ope to him all honorable

Faiths, where he may win distinction."

!;;" Then he sears her heart as with "burning iron by offering jsj iher gold. |Hy She will not hear more; c?>sts from her his proffered gold,, |: and, with one plaintive cry and hands clasped appealingly to : ;.;: his flint-set face, she sinks into unconsciousness at his feet. ;; The sickness of Agnes Vincent was known to be critical : among the operatives in Pottsville, and more than one anx; ions face indicated her popularity. The frequent visits of
the doctor excited comment, and many were the praises ut: tered concerning Potts' magnanimity in sending for the high: est-priced physician to attend the poor factory girl. We
have all done injustice to young Mr. Potts; he seems to be a hard man in exacting labor, but he shows now that lie has a kind heart. Another sympathized with old Mrs. Higgins, who was still a doubter, but whose tongue was hushed for two reasons one, sympathy for the wronged girl, and the : other her conviction that the truth would soon be developed and would crush the villain, as he deserved to be crushed.
The doctor's visit on one occasion was unusually pro longed, and his countenance was unusually grave as he en countered Potts walking slowly in the street as he left the Vincent cottage.
"With, assumed carelessness Potts asked him concerning the illness of Agnes Vincent.
"She is very ill, critically ill," replied the doctor. "She has brain fever; I seriously doubt her recovery."
"Indeed ! I am exceedingly sorry, and am very much sur prised to hear this statement," said Potts.

198

ETOWAH.

':- ;;;

"Her mother was insane, was she not?"

;;

"Yes," replied Potts, "but Agnes is too young for that." ;;

"I don't know about that; some great fear seems to op- j

press her, some foreboding secret."

:

"Why, what secret could oppress one so young as she is?'f ;

"Mr. Potts, I fear some one has infamously deceived that;

poor young girl; in fact, I know it," replied the doctor, eye--;

ing Potts intently as he spoke.

With averted face but imperturbable manner, Potts an

swered : "I dare say you are correct; indeed, I have suspected!;.;

it already. She is quite a belle among the operatives, an<:i:

you know, among people of her class in life, such accidents,

or incidents, are not uncommon. If it is true the villain

should be punished, and I will contribute to effect that; yet.;

I hope you are mistaken, both as to your diagnosis and the

probable termination of her sickness. Good morning, Doc

tor." The doctor stood watching him several moments un

til he turned the corner and was out of sight.

;

!:;

CHAPTER XIX.

-..-:'.

UNCLE BAENEY.

i : : The young negro valet, Hallback, was an interesting char: :acter in his way. His grandfather was said to have been the chief of the Askari tribe before he had been captured and brought to America and sold into slavery. It was said that lie was, when brought to Virginia from Africa, a remarkably /Stalwart young man. He, had wonderfully good eyesight :. and health, and was never sick in his life. His teeth were perfectly sound at the time of his death at the age of 102 :; years.
Whether true or false the effect of this tradition was to give to Hallback a self-esteem not common with his race, and, his pretensions not being received pleasantly by the negroes on the estate, intensified his feeling of isolation.
The fact, too, that education was denied by law to slaves, .and that his young master had instructed his sable play-fel low in the rudiments of reading and writing, inculcated a ; morose feeling of discontent in the breast of this young negro .slave. But he never complained of his lot, for he could but realize that his very isolation caused a deeper sympathy to bafelt and shown him by his mistress and her children than was evinced for the other negroes. He was perfectly black, : and, never having labored at hard work, his hands and feet ' were smaller than those of negroes usually are. One day after Henry Latane's return home on furlough, lie secured a copy of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and though it was difficult for him to read it, he did so at night by the light-

200

ETOWAH.

:;|1

wood fire in his cabin, and from that day his mind brood<i<|!

over his situation and condition as a slave. His near reiMsis;

tives were dead, and he had no one in whom he could cog*s

fide the thoughts which grew like an yeast in his brain ui|||

sleep seemed banished from his pillow. There is just enoug||

truth in that wonderful romance to lend conviction ta:as|;

ignorant mind, eager to believe all that is there related, yijfl

appreciative of the rare kindness which has been his portkii;

all his life.

: ;;;!;

To his mind every aged butler was another "Uncle Torn^f

and he felt quite sure that his little mistress, Minnie, was!

another Eva, blessed with all that lends to human nature ft&;;

sunniest attributes.

:;TM

He loved as well as respected Henry Latane, -who, wheta-!:

er in camp or in the snow-bound bivouac, always divid^l!

such luxuries as he had with his faithful servant, and evtM

endeavored to shield him from the post of danger. BiJt|;

Hallback seemed indifferent to danger; and while he took m>;;;;

part in the battles and skirmishes in which his young msM

ter was so frequently engaged, he was often under fire, anji|

seemed to court, rather than avoid, danger.

:;::s

He surprised Henry Latane one day by replying to lm;i

order that he should go to the rear: "I will go, Marse Hejpl

ry, since you order me to; but I wish I had a country to fights

for!"

'

"

If

Meanwhile, he was obedient, submissive and patient, ansl;-;

no one could justly upbraid him for not doing his duty. ::::|

After the battles, he would request Latane's permission :ji|;

go out with the ambulance and succor the wounded, am||

the drivers observed, without objecting, that HallbaeJ:H

seemed particularly solicitous about the wounded Federal!

soldiers.

: ;;;;;:;

S;;;;

ETOWAH.

201.

.;;;';;: In battle, animosity gives way before the flash, of eternity ?; which is before every man's eyes, and he is a craven at heart ;::who would not alleviate the sufferings of a gallant foeman. falter the clash of arms is ended. I:::: These facts were reported to Captain Latane, who chose toiiils oblivious of them, for already the Federal Government : ;was enlisting negro slaves in the Union armies, and regi:.'meats of black troops were being mustered into service. He ^determined that he would not interfere if Hallback decided. ;: to cross the lines and enlist himself.
"Marse Henry, here is your purse; I think you will find ;i every dollar in it that it contained when you gave it to me to keep for you," said Hallback to Henry Latane" when, the l-sargeon informed the latter that he should consider himself ;:ut of danger from his wound, and recommended that he^should go home to get entirely convalescent. : :: "Thank you, Hall.," he replied; "Idon't doubt it; you have
sever failed to take good care of anything I confided to your ; :3re, and I will not take the trouble to count it. Here is : some money for you. If you want more, and I can spare it,, ::fcra shall have it." ::: Such was the relationship between this master and his. li-sutve, and yet Hallback was not satisfied, and after the conElusion of the festivities, in which he had not participated except as a spectator, related in a previous chapter, he impaired to a large double cabin, the best in the quarters,, land knocked at the door. There was a bright lightwood iifire on the hearth, and yet there was no response. Becom;:Hig impatient, ho opened the door, and saw, kneeling by a ;liable on which was a large Bible, "Uncle Barney." :: :: He took off his hat and listened as the venerable negra preacher (who was a blacksmith by trade) uttered a, pathetic

202

ETOWAH.

^111

prayer for the welfare of the two members of his congregsl!;

tion whose young lives he had. united that day. He <mmj}

eluded his prayer by pleading that his young master, HeKTpii

Latane, might be spared to his mother and his people, aa$;;;i

that his servant, Hallback, might be turned from the evils!

thoughts which seemed to be getting possession of him. .:::!!

As he arose from his knees, Hallback extended his ha<|!f

smiled, and thanked him for his solicitude.

;;;;f!

"Why have you come to see me, Hall., so late to-night?!!

You ought to be abed."

; ;::|

"Uncle Barney, I am pestered in my mind and I wantiei

talk to you!"

:;ii|

"Sit down, Hall., and tell me your troubles," said Barney,:!

wiping his spectacles and adjusting them again.

:-^

" I have no personal troubles, Uncle Barney, for it seem*;;;

to me that every favor which could be shown a slave is gives:::

to me, but I am tired of being a slave!" Hallback said this ;

with a free, frank manner, which was equivalent to saying;;;;

"You may speak of this to whom you please, but I am ;

determined to be free."

: :::;

Old Barney arose from his chair, and placing his hands OH; :

the young man's shoulders, turned his face to the light an;;;;

said: "Hallback, do you realize what you are talking!

about?"

: ;;

The young negro did not wince, or move a muscle, but

answered firmly, "I do."

:;

"Do you remember the fate of George Standback?"

;;

"Yes; he attempted to make his way to the free States,

and was hunted down, and, when he refused to surrender in

the swamp,, he was shot down by the overseer."

"Who was that overseer?"

"Mr. Washburn."

ETOWAH.

203

have you been talking to about making your way lithe free States?" ||ii:"To no one. But I must say that Mr. Washburn has sent ilsfeword that he wanted to talk to me about freedom." !::::"! thought so. Now, Hall., what did mistress do when life "Washburn shot George Standback?" |;:'i"She dismissed him from her service, and, I am told, flawed him I" ;::;:? "And what was the result?" ;:;.;;-"The result was that he was cleared, and that is the result iiievery time a nigger is murdered by a white man !" :: : His eyes were flashing now, and he looked as if he could N&rottle "Mr. Washburn," as he paced the floor. Then he iissmtinued, "We have no rights. The juries are composed of ;;i?hite men only, and they do not often dignify us with iiijaprisonment. It is the whip which conquers the slave!" ;;;' The old man had taken his seat, and, with a face beaming ;; st'ith compassion, he answered: V "Sit down, Hall., and hear me read, and then we will talk." i!Ie opened the Bible and read from the fifth chapter of Ex;.adus as follows: "And Pharaoh commanded the same day che taskmasters of the people, and their officers, saying, Ye shall no more give the people straw to make brick, as here tofore: let them go and gather straw for themselves. And the iale of the bricks which they did make heretofore, ye shall lay upon them; ye shall not diminish aught thereof: for they be idle; therefore they cry, saying, Let us go and sacrifice to our God. Let there more work be laid upon the men, that they may labour therein.
"And the taskmasters of the people went out, and their offi cers, and they spoke to the people, saying, Thus saith Pha raoh, I will not give you straw. Go ye, get you straw where

204

I.TOWAH.

ye can find it, yet not aught of your work shall bo

ished. So the people were scattered abroad throughout

the land of Egypt to gather stubble instead of straw. , .A

the taskmasters hasted them, saying; Fulfil your works,

daily tasks, as when there was straw. And the officers:; M

the children of Israel which Pharaoh's taskmasters had:g||

over them, were beaten, and demanded, wherefore have.^slj

not fulfilled your tasks in making bricks both yesterday ag||

to-day as heretofore?

iiill

"Then the officers of the children of Israel came out ajBp

cried unto Pharaoh, saying, Wherefore dealest thou tltfil

with thy servants? There is no straw given unto thy sm-s

ants, and they say unto us, make brick; and behold thy seEfs

ants are beaten, but the fault is in thine own people. Bsf

he said, Ye are idle, ye are idle; therefore ye say, Let us gip

and do sacrifice unto our Lord. Go therefore now and wossiip

for there shall be no straw given you, yet shall ye delivers

the task of bricks.

;:::

"And the officers of the children of Israel did see that tli<g?::

were in evil case, after it was said, Ye shall not diminish: s

aught from your bricks of your daily task.

:::::;:

"And they met Moses and Aaron who stood in the way,ag:

they came forth from Pharaoh; and they said unto tbejpi

The Lord look upon you and judge; because you have maM

our savour to be abhorred in the eyes of Pharaoh, and i::;:::;

the eyes of his servants, to put a sword in their hands fo:::

slay us. And Moses returned unto the Lord, and said, Lordi-::

wherefore hast thou so evil entreated this people? Why :,i3S

it that thou hast sent me? for since I came to Pharaoh t8:

speak in tn'e^r name, he hath done evil to this people; neither::

hast thou delivered thy people at all.

"Then the Lord said unto Moses, Now shalt thou see what::

pi:

ETOWAH.

205

if shall do to Pharaoh; for with a strong hand he shall let |:!&em go, and with a strong hand shall he drive them out of i&s-land. And God spake unto Moses, and. said unto him, |:i :am the Lord; and I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, 5;8ud unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty known to ;;|8iem. And I have also established iny covenant with iifiiem, to give to them the land of Canaan." (Here old Bar;;;i;ey paused to see that Hallback was listening, and repeated iiiskrady, "to give to them the land of Canaan,") the land of their ; ::pilgrimage, wherein they were strangers. And I have also ;':'heard the groaning of the children of Israel, whom the Egypt ians keep in bondage; and I have remembered my covenant. liiWTierefore say unto the children of Israel, I am the Lord, and ::I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egypt ians, and I will rid you out of their bondage, and I will re::deem you with a stretched-out arm, and with great judg: : rnents; and I will take you unto me for a people, and I will :be to you a God; and ye shall know that I am the Lord your : God, which bringeth you out from under the burdens of the .Egyptians. And I will bring you into the land, concerning : thee, which I did swear to give it to Abraham, to Isaac, and : to Jacob; and I will give you for an heritage; I am the Lord. And Moses spake so unto the children of Israel: but they hearkened not unto Moses for anguish of spirit, and for cru el bondage. And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Go in, speak unto Pharaoh, king of Egypt, that he let the children ; of Israel go out of this land. And Moses spake before the Lord, saying, Behold the children of Israel have not heark ened unto me; how then shall Pharaoh hear ? And the Lord spake unto Moses, and unto Aaron, and gave them a charge unto the children of Israel, and unto Pharaoh, king of Egypt, to bring the children of Israel out of the land of Egypt."

206

ETOWAH.

--M

He ceased reading, closed the Bible and turned tow

Hallback, who had listened attentively, and had been s

dently impressed.

:;::

"Well?" said Hallback.

ii:i

"Do you not see how powerless we are, and that we are;ill

little birds in the hands of Him ? " said Barney, with hasSIs::

uplifted, while his eyes sought those of his visitor.

; ;;fi

" I don't know, Uncle Barney; I don't know anythiiip:

about the hereafter. It is the ever-living present--the prss|

ent, which sees my race doomed to servitude forever, thattypl

presses me all the time."

;;;:H;

"Then learn to know, my son; to believe is to know. Wes

are powerless. For generations niggers have been slaves igl;

this country. The few free niggers we have among us are Has

happier than we are. There is Bill Baxter, who owns othsfc;

niggers; he is not as happy as I am, and most ginneralh?:::

free negroes are of no account."

.::

" Oh, uncle Barney, you are not like the rest of us. Every-::

body respects you, even Mr. Washburn. You don't know-:

what it is."

:

Taking off his coat, then his shirt, the old man showed hi*::

muscular torso, and there, on his bare back, were the scan*:

inflicted years before by a brutal overseer's hand. Upon, his :

broad breast were two wounds which seemed to have beea::

inflicted by the knife. And now the old negro's self-posses-:

sion seemed to fail him, for his breast heaved with terrible

excitement as memory bore him back to the days of his

youth, when resistance produced almost fatal wounds. Calm

ing himself, he asked Hallback:

"Are you convinced that I do know what it is?"

" I would never have rested until I had killed the man

who did it," said Hallback.

fii :

ETOWAH.

207

:;:: " Thou shalt not kill. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,"

S: answered Barney, meekly but fervently.

1; "Now, Hallback, listen to me. Marster's brother took my

;:: part when I received these wounds, and lost his life in de-

;: ; fending me. Were ho alive to-day, would it not be my duty

:: to serve him all my life ?

:: " George Washburn killed my nephew in cold-blood, and

';:-he claims now to be the only friend we poor niggers have.

KWhat is my duty toward him ? "

;; "Kill him!" muttered Hallback.

"Hush, my son. Put away such evil thoughts. God, in.

i:in his own time, will punish him; and you, will you not

:deserve a like fate if you harbor murder in your heart?"

; . "But what are we to do ?" replied Hallback.

" Wait, and trust in the Lord; He will provide. This war

is His doings, and He will treat us as He treated the Is

raelites."

"What, give us the land?"

" If we deserve it, yes; all that we need. But would you

take Marse Henry's land away from him, if you could?"

"No, I would not; but I would take Washburn's, and

anybody else's land, except Marse Henrv's."

"Wait, and the land will be given to us."

" But, uncle Barney, it won't be given to us unless we fight

for it, and I have come to tell you good-bye. I am going to

fight for it."

" Who you gwine to fight, Hall. ? "

"The rebels."

"Who is de rebels?"

" The white folks--the rebel army--the--"

" Is yer gwine to shoot Marse Henry ? "

"\

:208

ETOWAH.

: ; ::llt

Hallback bent his head, and the tears forced their ;s?||

through his fingers, and his sobs prevented an answer...-;:; Hi

"It won't do, Hall., my son, for in the absence of; Jfj!j

father and mother, in heaven, you are my son. I preadjj|Hlll

a thousand-niggers like you and me, and tell them all w|j||i|

I tell you, "we are in the hands of the Lord, and He wjjjj&

-provide."

! ^im

The young negro man stood up now, hat in hand, :s$$||:

:said: " Good-bye, uncle Barney; you don't know, as l:i<pi

what will happen soon."

::S;!;|;

" What gwine to happen, boy ? "

; ;;:;|j:;f

" The rebels will force all of us young niggers in thrill

army, and we will be shooting at our friends."

:^:1;1

A twinkle of humor lighted old Barney's eycu as he asksSlf

'" Hall., did you ever see two dogs fight over a bone ? " ;;||

"Certainly I have; why do you ask me. that question?"::Is

'.'" Well, then, did you ever see the bone fight?"

;;|;|;

.A broad smile, followed by laughter, was Hallback's as!;;;

swer as he saw the force of the old preacher's parable, and !i:R!:

took his departure in a better frame of mind than he basil

'had for a long time. Long after Hallback had left the olffl

negro preacher continued to pray, though no sound escapes!;!;

his lips. He prayed now for himself--that this temptation!;-;

to yield to feelings of indignation and revenge shouM:;:;

bo removed. His faith had become greater as he near<sf:;:

.annually three-score years and ten allotted to man as i\w.

-fulness of his years; and as the Bible taught him that;!

God had permitted slavery and commanded obedience;

to masters, he submitted to his lot as one ordained by diviiSj!

decree.

;;;;

And so did the ministers of the white race teach theii;

.flocks, until a whole people believed in the righteousness of:

ETOWAH.

209

Admit as we may, believe as we do, that no labor ing population on earth had lighter burdens, lived to a fspaater age, or increased in numbers so rapidly, who can deny fs$at the ambition which makes men seek to rise in the scale i*::f}f existence and civilization was denied to the slaves in the ISouth? ?;-.; Per contra, from the earliest antiquity history does not rei: cord as rapid advance in the comforts, and arts, and luxuries : of life among any negro race as one century of slavery in the ; Southern States of America had given to the negro. :: li was the object-lesson of humanity; the technological : training which led them by rapid strides from the wilderness of the savage to nineteenth-century civilization. Doubtless ' many slaves possessed all the elements of leadership except education; and so long as slavery existed it was wise to deny them that boon which would have led them to anarchy.
Education to a slave is a " pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day," and it is only commanding spirits, like this venerable pattern of piety, old Barney, which can make of this scythe a pruning-hook--apply to this rein a curb which shall restrain as it guides.
In the mind of young Hallback it was a brand with which to light the flames of discord until insurrection, that dread spectre, the fear of which was used as an inciting cause to war, should take possession of the minds of the slaves, as the evil spirits entered into the bodies of the swine, and lead them to their destruction.
But the brotherhood of man, the kinship of humanity, the omnipotence of God, restrained and preserved them, and bade them " wait." The homely advice of old Barney, " Let the dogs fight over the bone, the bone nc-d not fight." was sound p' hilosophy.

210

ETOWAH.

.;;?s?ltt

By some subtle means, yclept " the grape-vine telegrams!

in the days of the war, every negro settlement, every mjgpl

in each settlement throughout that vast country, had feill

informed that the Northern people were fighting their timM

ters that they might be freed.

';:;;;!

In every plantation "Quarters" were impatient, yowss*;:

spirits eager to take part in the fray, if they believed sucoss??

possible; and there was, here and there, scattered asiffcp;

the design of an all-seeing and an all-wise Providence.;:*.::;

Barney clothed with the wisdom which age gives to tfe::

unlettered slave as to the most cultured statesman, whose;;;?

sage counsels bade them "WAIT !"



: ;;:;;;?:

''' In all the South, amid four 'millions of negro slaves, with fe?)^|;

of thousands of helpless white families at their mercy, not tmi-K

insurrection occurred during four years of bloody war. >;-x :'..:;

Honor to those slaves!

;;;;;

. Honor to those humane masters, whose sympathy asw! :

..kindness alone made this remarkable fact a reality.

;;;:

Nor could volumes so impress the mind of Hallback with;;;;

the dangerous folly of following the counsels of the mimkst-;-

ous ex-overseer who had never owned a slave, as the illus-i:

tration of the scars of old Barney, and his simple recital of;;,

the fact that his young master had given his life in deferred;;

of his slave, and that that slave was himself.

':::

He had played with Henry Latane as a child, and witli;;:

him quarreled as a child;. he had served him as a valet all:;

his life, and he could not recall an ungenerous act on the;;

part of the young master to him. But his spirit chafed at :

the humble deportment which his condition exacted of him;

as of all slaves.

;

He would rid himself of that if he could; but the time ;

would never come, he thought, when evil-minded, sordid

;;:'

ETOWAII.

211

Mventurers, with no interest in the slaves or -in the land. :|ut bent on their own profit alone, should turn his hand 'against those people with whose life his own had been i-intertwined. As to the rest of the white people, he would--

;;; Latane, finding that his wounded limb was nearly well,

;;-'-tad thrown aside his crutch and now informed his mother

.also of his purpose. "A soldiers place is at the front,

mother, unless wounds or sickness prevent him from being

: there. I shall return to the army next week."

"But your wound is not entirely healed yet, my -son, an 61

it seems to me you have been with me only a day ; but if.

you think it is your duty to go, I will not dissuade you.''

His arm was around her waist, her head upon his shoul

der, as she thus spoke, vainly trying to keep back the tears

as she made the Spartan resolution to do nothing to delay

his return.

:

This was his first visit home since he went to Virginia,

and she knew that where he went was to be seen, almost

daily, privations--suffering--sudden death ! A chance ball,

a skirmish, a reconnoissance, perchance a battle might

involve him any day, and his life, she thought, was thus

rendered more brittle than glass.

"That reply does you honor, my mother. If I am of any

value to my country, I owe it all to you. I am already

weary of war, and the boyish ambition for fame has already

departed. Let us hope that it will soon end, and then I can

prove my gratitude to the best of mothers for life-long kind

ness to me." To change the current of his thoughts

she said : "Julia has been slandered by those who envy

her attractions of person and manner. Instead of being

212

ETOWAH.

:; !:!

cold-natured and selfish, she is the truest, loveliest and bail

girl I know."

!||

"She is indeed a fine girl, mother, and has a noble character!

I never knew but one girl whom I admired more, and;l!

.shall call upon her to-morrow."

!fl

His mother did not reply; she would not diminish Bsgf

pleasure one iota during his brief stay with her by any us!:

favorable allusion to Clara, whom she had never known well;!

Meanwhile, she could not disguise her pleasure when anT-l

/remark of Henry's indicated a possibility of the realization!

iof her cherished dream.

;y|

The best of mothers forget that they were once young;::;

Colonel Leslie's cold, formal courtesy when they met by!

chance, so different from the frank, genial, cordial greeting!

of other days, had banished all thoughts of Clara as a daugh-!

Jer-in-law from her mind.

!:

"Mother," said Henry, "while I think your preference fo(!

Miss Julia a natural one, do you not think that affection.:;

guides a woman's mind and moulds her opinions ?"

:

"I hope so, my son ; I do not admire strong-minded wo

men," was the reply. In that reply Mrs. Latane was logical.-

It is better that it should be thus. A mother's love is an!

instinct superior to reason in ordinary life, and accomplishes;

its purpose when shrewdest diplomacy would fail.

V:

Again his card is sent in from the door of the hospitable:

mansion at Thronateeska. Again he is ushered in the par-;:

lor, and it is but two days before his departure for Virginia.;:

Colonel Leslie, not Clara, responded, and his manner was :

strangely formal. Mrs. . Latane had informed him of this :

change in Colonel Leslie's manner, but he was entitled to

kinder treatment from any gentleman in his native county,:

unless he should prove to be an enemy.

II;;'"

ETOWAH.

213

|s;. His bow, in response to Colonel Leslie's coldly courteous iSsgreeting, was equally haughty. ;|: "Good morning, Captain Latane; how is your mother?" 1: "Quite well, I thank you. I hope Miss Clara's indisposifiition was not serious." I;; "Miss Clara is quite well, and is absent from home," was ;0;!fhe curt reply. ?;;; ("Absent from,home!" thought Latane. "Then she does ;;;; ;cot wish to see me.") His lips curled a little as he said: "I ;;;ani sorry she is absent ; I had hoped to have seen her before ;;;leaving home." ;; : "Then you expect to return to the army soon?" ;;; "Yes, sir; I will return day after to-morrow. I will not :: detain you longer, sir. Good morning." : "Good morning, Captain Latane," and then the studiously ; ; : formal old gentleman politely opened the door of the hall ; and dismissed him with a parting bow. Latane, biting his ; lip with vexation, mounted his horse and rode home at a ;:rapid pace. "He did not even invite me to call again, nor : ; did he exhibit the slightest interest in my past, present or ; future. I'll never cross that threshold again, so help me God!" he exclaimed, as he dashed the spur in his horse. ;, "Shall I," he continued, "permit myself to be treated as a i foot-ball by those whom I would have died to serve ? Shall I continue to worship as an idol one to whom I have de clared rny love, but who seems unmindful of all that I have suffered for her sake ? Shall I continue loyal to her, when she is not only free, but will be better pleased never to see me again ? No, a thousand times, no! I will not lavish oil any human being a love which has been unrequited once. Romance, begone, and sentiment with it! Reason hence forth shall govern impulse.

214

ETOWAH.

';;;;!!

"I have been a child in my love for Clara Leslie, yet !si!l

sweetest thoughts of my life will revert to her as she W3;!:f

I'll be a man henceforth in love as in other things--c6;;dl:l

determined, unrelenting, as is her flint-hearted father! Bv&lll!

she changed in nature ? Does she endorse this unaccours|;s||

ble conduct of her father? It matters not; I must see thiapll

as they are. The dream is over. Now for fame! it is all!

that is left."

^-ll

Yet it is the love of woman that nerves a man to battle ::;!::;

all that humanity holds most dear.

::::||

What is one's country ? Is it the air we breathe ? Thg;!!

lovely colors in sky or flower ? The riches hidden in mines!!

and quarries ? The railways, factories, buildings whicli!:!

make commerce ?

^iTM

No, it is home, with all its sacred memories and all its niS

blest aspirations.

;;;!;

How little did he interpret Clara Leslie's real feelings, fc ::;

she, too, felt the depth of disappointment. Providence seemed :::

determined to prevent her reconciliation with Henry. Lataafc';;;

She had gone to see Julia for a few hours, and when she re-:;

turned, the servant informed her of Latane's brief visit. ;;

"Tt was merely a call of courtesy, my child, to prevent an :

open rupture, I think; Captain Latane will leave in a few^:

days for Virginia. I am satisfied that he would like to hii;;?

re-instated here, but I have lost all confidence in him, or re-:::

spect for him. Think no more of him, my daughter," said;.;;

Colonel Leslie.

::

"Oh, father!" she exclaimed, "say no more! I can't bear ts;.:

hear you abuse him. I am sure you do him great injustice.:

If he is false, no man is true, and noble, and good." Hell-

father's look was one of intense anguish. He said no moKx

but took her to his heart and caressed her tenderly, telling;

p: .

ETOWAH.

215

lljfif that his happiness was wrapt up in hers. He would Iteve given half his fortune to have known that Henry LaSsae was worthy of Clara at that moment, "but he did not, mA lie would never sanction her union with any man capajflg of deceit or treachery. >::ilf he could have learned then that Henry Latane knew iss'it-hing of the letter signed in his name and seemingly in his iksselwriting, asking Clara to pardon his precipitate avowal iiad to consider all that he had said as unspoken, how dif ferent would have been the reception accorded to the re turned soldier! As it was, Latane7 s pride forbade any allu:?j.m to it, and Colonel Leslie did not deign to answer it. ;Mts was playing a bold game, but his position in the postiismce had enabled him to intercept and destroy the letters .written to Clara by Henry Latane, all full of the tenderest affection and policitude, and he took the risk.

CHAPTER XX.

TRULY LOYAL.

Our worthy acquaintances, Potts and Stunner, are

conversing in the handsome front office of the latter; but OH;;;;

this occasion Potts seems obsequious and Stunner indifferent;;;!

"Now, Stunner," said Potts, "I don't like the way you are;;;

treating me about this blockade-running business; I ought ts;;;

have a hand in it. You have used my money for three;;

years to bolster up your business, and now when you get;;

hold of the biggest deal of the age you leave me out." ; : .;

Stunner put his hands in his pantaloons pockets, placed;

his feet on the table, looked through the plate-glass windows: :

on the holiday crowds that thronged the streets and--whis- .

tied.

;;

Nothing is more exasperating to a man urgently bent on ;

'transacting business quickly, "before the iron gets cold," than;;;

such treatment as this. No word in the language can ex-;; ;

press exactly what this "whistle" did just at that time.

A silence of several minutes ensued, when Potts arose as if

to go, and said, "Well, dog-gone it! how much will you take

for an interest?"

"Oh! my dear sir, my very dear sir," said Stunner, leaping

to his feet with alacrity and grasping Potts' hand cordially, :

''Now, my friend, you are talking. Don't beat around the

bushes, Potts, but comedown to 'business,' and you'll always

find me there."

At this juncture an old gentleman approached the office

counter, whose grave face and dignified demeanor at once arrest-

?:''

ETOWAH.

21T

':' ed Stunner's attention and made a change in his manner and ; deportment wonderful to behold. Taking his silk hat off : and bowing profoundly, Stunner said in the blandest tones-
in the world: "Good morning, Judge Dearing; I feel honored, sir, by your visit, walk around, sir, and be seated by the fire."
But all this mannerism was lost upon the old jurist, whose simplicity of manner and honest gentlemanliness and di rect methods always disconcerted Stunner.
"Is this Mr. Stunner?" asked the Judge. "It is, sir. J. B. Stunner, at your service." "Well, Mr. Stunner, I have called to say that I don't wish to have any further dealings with you if what I have heard is true." "Indeed, sir!" with a look of honest surprise, "and who* has been slandering me, sir ?" "No one, I think. I think the charge is true." "Indeed, sir! and what is the charge?" "Did you not lend a poor widow five hundred dollars at six per cent, per annum interest, payable in gold, and makethe note and interest payable to me?" "I did, sir; that is my business." "What were the conditions o-f the loan ?" "Her property was worth five thousand dollars, and I charged her five per cent, commission for negotiating the loan." " Did you charge five per cent, commission on the five hun dred dollars loaned, or on the value of the property ?" Stunner did not hesitate a second, for he knew that the-, judge must have investigated the transaction, and that he might as well tell the truth at once, and so he promptly an-
wered: "On the value of the property, sir."

218 '

ETOWAH.

::::

"Am I to understand that you charged and retained out op

the five hundred dollars loaned, five per cent, on five thousand!!!

.dollars, or two hundred and fifty dollars, and that the loaa!!!

was for three months only ?"

:::

" That is about the size of it, sir."

: iii

Potts was amazed to see the once subservient Stunner thus!i ;

defy the most learned and respected jurist in the State, for;;

Stunner's thumbs were now in his vest and he stood in the::

.most contemptuous manner before the good, kindly old man ii

who was universally respected.

"Very well, sir," responded the judge severely; "have my i

account posted and forwarded at once; any letters from youi

hereafter will be returned unopened."

;

As the indignant old gentleman left the office, Potts arose :

and said to his partner: " Stunner, what on earth do you

mean by snubbing the best client I have in that way for ?"

"Is he your client; then why did not he speak to you ?"

" Oh! he does not know me personally, or even by sight;

but the money I have sent you for investment on our joint .

account was loaned by him to my father, who has for a long

time handled Judge Bearing's money as a borrower, giving

him good collateral security. Now we can't get any more of it."

" I don't wish any more of it," replied Stunner. " If he had not come at me in that way I intended to propose a much larger and safer investment, but he-has kicked the bucket over now and the rnilk is all gone. Judge Bearing is just too good for this wicked world, that is all!"
They were alone in the office during this scene, the female clerks and the old book-keeper having been released for the holiday.

;:;'

ETOWAH.

219

;; "Well, what will you take for a half interest?" said Potts, ; 'resuming his negotiations with Stunner. : "For a what! "said Stunner, with a surprised air.
"A half interest in your blockade-running business," said Potts. " I have seen for several months that you are losing interest in our business here, and that can only mean that you are making more money at something else."
"Correct," sententiously replied Stunner. "Then what will you take?" resumed Potts. " Ten thousand dollars in gold, cash down, for a fifth interestis the-least dollar that I will consider. " What!" said Potts in disgust. "Come now, Stunner, that is not toting fair; what would you have done in the past without my aid?" " There are a sight of things that I would not have done but for your aid !" said Stunner, "and getting money from that honest old fool, Judge Dealing, who won't take a good thing when he sees it offered to him, is one of them. I have bigger game than he is working with me." Potts' interest increased at this announcement as he lean ed forward and said : "Who are they? Isold one of them, Stunner?" He had spoken in a whisper when he named the individxial referred to. Stunner answered quietly: "He is, and he and I go halves." "One-fifth of the whole profits for ten thousand dollars cash is your offer, is it? I will bank on that man's judgment al ways. And he has the power, too!" "One-fifth of my half for ten thousand, cash down, is my offer, pard: and not a cent less will let you in," answered Stunner. In truth he had just offered the interest for one-half the

220

ETOWAH.

-!if

sum he now insisted on, but he saw that Potts, convinced bpi

the magic of the participation of the great politician names!:!

would accept the offer, and he was right, for Potts at oases;-!

closed with Stunner and was now "in."

::::!

The State, the city, the village--everywhere in Bepublicais:!

America is dominated by "the ring." If you are "in," profits:;::

come in troops; if you are "out," intellect and genius walk on::::

the pavement, while mediocrity, with gilded conscience and

vulgar display, rides by in the chariot.

Potts thus construed it, at any rate, and thus early gave in

his adhesion to the "ins."

"Now, Stunner," said Potts, "it was only last week that

an order was received by the Commandant of the Post at

Etowah, instructing him to let a steamer pass down the river

to the Gulf and thence to Liverpool if it got safely through

the Federal gun-boats stationed at the mouth of the river."

"I know all about it," said Stunner.

" Why did not this steamer, loaded with cotton, belonging

to the State, proceed ?" asked Potts.

" Because the Commandant of the Post there is like our

friend, Judge Bearing--a----fool!" responded Stunner.

"Have a cigar, Potts?" All his former amiability had returned

now, since the trade had been consummated, and the manner

of the two was like that of bosom-friends.

"You see," Stunner continued, "the military commander

of the district had given orders that no steamer loaded with

cotton should be allowed to go down to the gulf."

" Why was that order passed ?" asked Potts.

" Because it was asserted by some 'smart Alecks' who

could not get 'in' that if a steamer got through safely to

Liverpool, it was received there as the cotton belonging to J.

B. Stunner & Co., whereas if the steamer was captured or lost

ETOWAH.

221

ffi&e cargo was invariably declared to belong to the GovernMent. See?"
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Potts, "and is it true? Does it 'ifcippen so?"
"You bet your sweet life!" was Stunner's answer. A few days later Potts decided to renew his visits at Thro;i:iateeska, for his spirits rose as the fortunes of the Confeder;.: cy seemed to decline. If the Confederacy failed he would be the wealthiest young man in the county. "Why are you so sad, Clara?" said Julia to her the day when Mr. Potts decided to make the all-important visit. "Mr. Barnum still lives and you are sure of his affections." . " You are mistaken in your surmise, Julia; Mr. Barnum has been absent nearly three years and we have had no cor respondence whatever." Though it was difficult to get letters "through the lines, " it was often done, and this information surprised Julia. "Then I am mistaken, and, have unintentionally misled one of your former friends, " said Julia. " You are not engaged to Mr. Barnum, then ? " " No, I am not engaged to Mr. Barnum; what put such an idea into your head? To whom do you refer? " "I refer to Captain Latane, and I told him before he re turned to the army that I had no doubt of it ?" " Why, Clara, what is the matter, my dear? " Clara's agitation was too great to be concealed longer, and she could only say--" How cruel! how could you do it, Julia?" "Why, my dear, I bad no idea that you were interested in Captain Latane, but it is all clear to me now. His cmbar rassment and your's on lhat morning when we met you riding before breakfast should have opened my eyes, but

222

ETOWAH.

-; I;*!

really, Clara, I did not know that I was unkind--I did :Kf&

mean to be."

/Ill

Clara had regained control over her feelings and lisssl

sought to remove the impression her embarrassment hilll

created, for she did not know positively that Latane stpii

loved her, and she could not persuade herself to make lell

cousin her confidante under the circumstances. BesidfSip;

she had every reason to suppose that Julia was nol indiiiall

ent to his attentions. Kallying, therefore, from her embaSsl

rassnr.-nt she said, " What a pity it is that Captain LatSi8|l

was captured. If I knew what prison he was confined in,:|;s

should feel tempted to write to Mr. Barnum to go and unde^s

ceive him. Jesting aside, Julia, I did not even meet Cagfii;;

tain Latane during his visit home."

;!

" Well, I am glad I have done no harm, " replied Julia;;;;;

" I thought from your remark that I had committed the uu-;;

pardonable sin. Confess now that it is not your fault that;;

you are not engaged to Mr. Barnum--I would not be sur

prised if you had a like opportunity with Captain Latane."

" That would be high treason, Julia. "

" Of course it would, my dear, and I did not mean for you

to betray the'r secrets. I enly wished to restore my equa

nimity by putting you on the defensive. See what a diplo

mat I am. "

" Indeed, you are, Julia, and I feel inclined to ask you sim

ilar impertinent questions about both Major Blount and

Captain Latane. You are very selfish in permitting that

gallant major to go away without giving me an opportunity

to "cut you out," as the phrase is. "

Then shanging her tone she said, "Is not the ingenuity

of Mr. Potts in devising ways and means to keep out of the

army remarkable ? No taunts or sneers can drive him into

IP

_

ETOWAH.

22S

||:;i" And iu truth nothing that Clara couia ao would be ;l':&ken as a rebuff by this persistent suitor. |:v: " It is indeed remarkable, said Julia ; and I have a curis;: : Dity to meet him. He seems to be quite a character. "By i;;; :.the w.;y, Julia, did you know that Bruton Stewart s: Las been promoted for distinguished gallantry on the battle ;i;::fteld en the 12th of May ? It seems so funny that Bruton :::Stewart should be a Brigadier-general. " ;; Had Clara been less absorbed in her own reflections she j;: : could not have failed to notice the quick flush which man:: tied Julia's cheats, as she answered: ;;:; " Yes, I read it in the newspaper, and I have no doubt that i-ihe has won it bravely. " : But not by word or letter, or by any indication /.whatever, did Bruton Stewart evince that Julia Dearing held Cany place in his heart or mind. To conceal her eaabarrass: ment at the unexpected allusion to him, therefore, she arose and left the sitting-room.
Just as she arose to leave, a ring at the door-bell announced ' a visitor. The servant handed to Clara a card bearing the name of Wellington N. Potts. On some of his cards was written the name of W. Napoleon Potts; other cards contained the simple W. N. Potts, used in his commercial correspondence. But in his social visits he always carried cards which bore the name of "Wellington" or "Napoleon, " or both.
"Dj stay, Julia, and help me to entertain him, " pleaded Clara.
"Thanks; I am much obliged, I am sure, but he did n;>t call to see me; I wiilgo into the library and read Macaria'' until he retires," answered Julia.
After a few commonplace remarks, Potts said : " Well,.

224

ETOWAH.

Miss Clara, I have got away from that abominable post-o

fand am a fiee man once more; will you go to ride

me to-morrow? I have but a few days of leisure left.' ; : : ::;1

"Then you are going into the army, are you? I am EJ|;|

surprised. I don't see how any man can keep from going*!!!

Richmond now, and aiding to hurl back the immense armi!|

collected at its front."

; ;:;!|

"I must answer you in the language of a soldier wh<Bs!

flight General Lee sought to arrest, and then to induce hisi;!

to return to the front as he was leaving the battle-field in tlie!:

last battle. The General said: "Go back, my friend; remem-|

ber your home, your wife and your children; go back aa<il

fight for your country."

;s

"Well, what did he say?" interrupted Clara, as Potts hes&:::

vtated.

::::

"He answered: 'I've been thar, Gineral, and 'tain't >::

fitten place for nobody/' and that's the way I feel about it.'1 ::

In spite of her contempt for the sentiment thus expressed;::

'Clara could not refrain from smiling. Emboldened by this, :

ho continued: "Miss Clara, you know I am not sympathetic;

with this war, or, in truth, with any war. 'Thou shalt not

kill,' is the divine command. War is murder, and I am :

determined to keep out of it as long as I can."

"How do you propose to do it?" asked Clara.

In spite of her antipathy to him, she was entertained by

Ms argumentative way of expressing himself.

"'The Confederate Congress," he answered, "has passed a,

law exempting from military service manufacturers, cap

tains of steamboats, and managers of a certain number of

slaves. That law will whip the Confederacy, and save me

from the trouble and danger of enlisting. There is a little;

I;;.

ETOWAH,

225

I.Nfeoat on the river called the Swan; it is no longer than a :N;;;dory," as they call the little boats off the Maine coast. :::H>onie one has put an engine on it, and I tried to get the NNeaptaincy of the craft, but John Hefflin was too sharp for N-aie."
;: "I am glad to hear it," said Clara, laughing in spite of her: self, " and I hope the conscript officers will get you yet." : "Conscript Fathers! Why Miss Clara, what have I done N that you should wish to consign me to 'glory or the grave,' N.as the poets express it?" : "It is not what you have done, but what you have not
done, she replied. But why argue the matter?" "That is not my object; I wish to be of service to you if I
lean." He then alluded to President Lincoln's Emancipation
Proclamation, in which the President of the United States : promised that he would recommend that all citizens who shall have remained loyal to the United States during the war, should be compensated for all losses, including the loss of slaves.
"Well," said Clara, "it is nearly two years since that procla mation was issued, and I have not heard of a single slave who has availed himself of the privileges offered. With thirteen hundred thousand men in the field against us, they haye not only failed to overcome us, but they have utterly failed to produce servile insurrection, which that proclama tion, was designed to effect. They have passed laws confisca ting the property of "rebels," and yet I don't see that any body owns less property."
To the mind of an ordinarily appreciative man, it was folly to argue thus with a young lady who had aided to cut up carpets in her own home to serve for blankets for soldiers.
15

22(1

BTOWAH.

A generous man, even though an enemy, would have a|>|p|;|

elated the sterling virtues which the trials of war devel|i||

among the people, especially in the characters of the wc>sS*|||

These delicately rear* d young ladies, accustomed allikslp

lives to every luxury which wealth and culture can

were to be seen in the forenoon sewing c arse garmen

unknown soldiers to wear; and at night they often

pated in pubTc concerts that money might be provided:;|i;|

hospital purposes But Po'ts was not a generous man,, sat

he despised a gentleman, and all that that word impiiisll

more than any other product of civilization.

:ll

" You may not know it, Miss Clara," said he, " but {hf

are at this moment seventy thousand negroes employed e

the Union armies, nearly thirty thousand of whom al

bearing arms in the field."

'

" Yes, I read the statement in a Massachusetts paper sg|

to papa recently. It stated iurther that there are fift

thousand blacks between Memphis and Natchez, from amo|;

whom have been culled all the able-bodied men for military;

service. What was the result? The writer stated lhat la*|

winter he buried, at Memphis alone, out of an average (if;

about four thousand of these deluded and helpless creatu

twelve hundred, or twelve a day. In all your life, have;

you ever heard of such mortality among negroes under:

Southern masters? Such results prove to them, better thaii;-

all the arguments in the world, thattheir best friends, those

who are most in sympathy with their feelings, are th-*i

people with whom they were reared. What interest can K\

stranger feel who lives a thousand milesdistant, and wru> ;

enlisted to defend the Union, not to liberate slaves--what

interest can he feel in the sufferings of this dependent;

race?

':

'':

ETOWAH.

227

if:;*$fow do you account for the fact that we have no appreepions of danger from our negro slaves? How can the
lpifit of patriotism be implanted in the breasts of men, who lsgve left their homes and crossed the seas and become en isted soldiers in six months after their arrival on foreign
Our soldiers are fighting hundreds of thousands of rs, and it is the duty of every Southern man to go> la the front." H: :!! Well, they won't get me this time. I have assumed the; ipace of superintendent of the factory, and made our former superintendent, who is sixty-five years old, and, therefore, is iexempt, take my place as book-keeper." : She despised him, and yet his bold avowal that he was fiot sympathetic with the Southern cause was the only which had ever inspired a particle of respect for this after bomb-proof places. :p ; "You know," resumed Potts, "that slavery has been abolifished, in the District of Columbia at any rate, by Act of the if-Congress of the United States, and all loyal owners in Wash|%gton City are allowed ninety days to prepare and present |fto Commissioners appointed for the purpose, the names, ages :%id personal description of their slaves. Now, I think a liigood price may be obtained for all your father's slaves if he i will join my father and proclaim his loyalty at once. The war is going against the South, and----" V His further speech was interrupted by the indignant girl, vyho, rising as she spoke, said: " Good Heavens I Mr Potts, !are you in earnest? Do you mean what you say, or are you merely advancing an argument which, if 'twas sincerely spoken, will make you a stranger to this house at least ?" ! Potts hesitated. This was the only home which he vis ited, and he did not pretend to like any other society than

228

ETOWAH,

Clara's. If he had possessed real candor or manly coiwpp

he might have made a vast stride in Clara's good

adhering firmly to his assertion. But he continued:

" L; t xis change the subject, Miss Clara, for I see

little argument on my side of the question offends if it:<ipl

bo met.

!;!!!!;

' When a woman wills, she will, you may depend on it; ::::sss When she won't, she won't, and there's an end on it.' " ';;;.3:|;:

"Mr. Potts, I never wish to hear any more 'argumeRli!

of this nature. Do you not consider yourself a Southerg<||

.and loyal to this State ?''

::::!!

('0h, yes," he said, yawning, with well-simulated ii

-ence, "by birth and rearing, but in everything else I.

.New Englander."

. ;:;||

" Then why do you own slaves ? I believe your fat-lieil

lias been, and is, a very extensive slave-owner, although ;ji|i|

is a native of New England. Why don't he emancipa$H

-them immediately, without any reference to what any gopl

-eminent may do?"

./--Hlf

- s< Oh \ that's another matter. Hypocrites pretend to be 'mjj.

imated by patriotism, allegiance to the State, and all tJui||

sort of thing. A New Englander is superior to sentimeni;i|:;:

notions We are a practical people. ' Nothing succeeds!

like success,' is our motto. Look around you, and you W:|;|

find that Northern men take the lead in industrial en'te;!;

prises at the South, while your leading men turn politiciaa*.;:;

Now it is all very well for impulsive young cut-throats, like;:;

your friend Latane, to go and get killed or wounded in or;:;;

der to have his name in the papers and be lauded as a hea?;-;

for a few days. In a short time all these men whom yog!:

call' noble patriots' will be forgotten, while we, who stay $3;

home and make money will buy them out--lock, stock ami!

f|;H;.:

ETOWAH.

229

Ixlarrel--after the war, and hire them, to boot! We intend to llssil our negroes as fast as possible--are doing it now. pfather sold a splendid hand, the likeliest young man we psismed, yesterday at auction. I don't intend to have a lot fhsfnegroes to support after the war has freed them! I am lining to feather my nest while I can. If I can't free them, |;:sadget paid for it, I will sell them." 5: Clara, under that quiet exterior, was trembling with in:;; dignation. Deceived by her silence into thinking that she i^vfas beginning to be imbued with his own penurious ideas, :"lie hoped by this candid statement to pave the way for a ;: new declaration, based upon her hopes of certain security : inthe future, it mattered not how the war might terminate.
Her reply was as sudden and impetuous as a storm in sum; 'iner.
She arose from her seat, and said in measured, but de cided tones: " Mr. Potts, you forget yourself! Not content :with seeking a bomb-proof place, you abuse the privilege of a welcome extended to you by my too-credulous father to "insult our gallant soldiers, who think wealth and luxury and the brightest promise of the future nothing in comparison "to the preservation of the rights of their native land. Young men with ten times your wealth or your father's have entered the army, most of them as private soldiers, which disproves your assertion that a mere thirst for fame actuates them, or that self-interest is the ruling motor in human affairs. If such are your sentiments I am glad you do not consider yourself a Southerner. I do not know what may be the result of this war, but I do know that Southern slave-holders will not desert their slaves when they are most needed by them. I do know that the man who sells his slaves at auction has never been recognized as an acceptable

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ETOWAH.

::||

member of good society, and that he who sells them now,: ig:|

face of their wonderful fidelity to their masters and their ii|il

pendent families left with no other protectors, is unworthy i)||

recognition! Let the future be what it may, oui peopjpi;

will never dishonor themselves by honoring those who aretf

recreant to their duty now."

...;;;!

" What's all this about ?" said Julia Bearing, appearing:^:;:;:

the door.

;i;|

Wellington Napoleon Potts was at this moment the im-:;:

personation of the scathing criticism of him made on g.;;i

iormer occasion by Henry Latane. He seemed to confons:;i:

to the estimate placed upon his character by the young lacip

whose eyes were flashing with indignation. Julia's appear-;::

ance upon the scene just at this moment was welcomed by::

Potts, although it sent a blush of shame to his cheeks--a :

blush which had rarely invaded his iron-clad effrontery be

fore. If he had felt overwhelmed before, the reader can:

imagine the depth of his humiliation when Clara, her

lips curling with contempt, introduced him as follows:

"Miss Bearing, let me make you acquainted with Mr.

Wellington Napoleon Potts, whose name (emphasizing the

last word) recalls two of the grandest military heroes of the

world's history."

Julia, who was somewhat given to slang, thought:

" Well, here's richness to be sure," and gave him a curtsy,

which Napoleon himself might have received with feelings

of gratification. Interpreting the situation, she said:

"Well, what's the row ?"

"Miss Clara is mad with me," said Potts in an injured

tone.

Clara turned to Julia, as if to ignore his presence, and said i

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ETOWAH.

231

ip'Have you called for me to go with you ? I'll be ready in i'i&n minutes." |;: : " Yes, but neither of you seem to consider me of sufficient inconsequence to reply to my question: What's the row ? " ;!;' "I'll leave Mr. Potts to enlighten you, " said Clara, leav: ing the parlor. ::: Julia turned to him those eyes which could be at :; will either an interrogation point, a searching catechism, :: a judicial dicision, a conviction or an acquittal. This time ::. Julia's eyes plainly asked,'' What's the row ?"
As Julia's flexible muscles gradually relaxed into a re^as: suring smile, he r aid : " Miss Clara's outburst of temper j ust
now was caused by my innocently informing her that I was not sympathetic with the war, when really if she knew my heart, and would treat me right, she could persuade me to enter the ranks to-morrow."
"Really ? Then she ought to establish a recruiting station right away. I don't know what the government will do for recruits hereafter, for all the sixteen-year-old boys, nearly, have gone, and Colonel Leslie and father were enrolled yes terday in the Home Guard. They'll have to raise a regiment of Amazons, I reckon."
"They ought to place Miss Clara at the head of it then," said Potts, with a sickly smile.
" Good! that's a capital idea. Will you accept the place of adjutant, Mr. Potts?"
Potts surprised Julia now; he was far from bsing a fool and was generally quite ready in his sallies of repartee. He never attempted wit, but prided himself upon what he called his "horse-sense "
"You do me honor, Miss Bearing, I assure you. If I can be as successful in petticoats as you and your cousin seem to

232

ETOWAH.

::!!l

be when assuming the counter role, upon my word it will : Sjp a victory worth risking one's life for I Yes, I would go undsif: those conditions, and suggest that you be a candidate fep Vivandiere ; but I shall have nothing to do with the fightisp

" I must say, Mr. Potts, that you have been badly

Not by Clara--that's well enough I suppose; but by publl|

opinion which has proclaimed you a coward and a skulkeKil;!

Since you have shown by your last remark that you are lietl!

a coward, I hope to seee more of you when I will do my bfesll

to persuade you not to be a skulker."

;::|:

Wellington Napoleon Potts had risen to take his leave aijil

lie delivered this parting shot, and accepted the extenders?

hand of Julia Bearing most gratefully, in spite of he?!

previous raillery.

';;;;:;

Hesitating a moment and looking as straight into Julia's;;;

eyes as a man can who can't meet a glance when it is directed ii

to his own, he said :

" Your first speeches to me were such as I am in the habit!:

of receiving from people who wish to drive me into the army;;!

by that mode. The second is a kindness I was unprepared ; ;

for. I have been kicked like a dog and have submitted like ;

a spaniel, for I do not believe in breaking the law

in the slightest particular. You have seen fit to vary the

monotony by a kind invitation to visit you. I would be a :

dog in fact if I' failed to appreciate it. I shall do myself the

honor of calling on you, if I interpret your words correctly."

Julia bowed affirmatively, and Potts left without waiting

for Clara's return.

Now the reader must know that the hand- writing on the

wall which so filled the heart of Belteshazzar with fright seem-

;!!;'

ETOWAH.

233

Ied hardly more ominous to-, the minds of thousands than the Siprospects of the Confederate Government at this period. ;';;'. Hence the determination of Potts to avow his opposition :::to the warmer se, and hence the'conference with the unctious \\Pottspere which resulted in the determination to sell their i'i'slaves and invest the proceeds in cotton. Then, to protect ; the cotton, should the Confederacy collapse, a proof of "loy: alty" would be in order. There was nothing to lose by this : step, except the respect of the people, which to their minds : was of infinitely small importance, when compared with money. It is a fact susceptible of indubitable proof that had they supposed the fortunes of the Confederate States to i be in the ascendency at this period, the Messrs. Potts and : nearly all of their ilk .would have espoused the Southern cause with the most demonstrative and practical patriotism. Wellington Napoleon would have entered the army, and once there, would have fought bravely; for he was not a coward in the full sense of that term. His pecuniary inter ests prompted him to play that role.
His conversation with Clara was not unpremeditated either. Manifestly, if the war was going to result in eman cipation, Clara would no longer be an heiress, unless he could prevail on her father, through her, to sell his slaves as he and his father had determined to do. If Clara would not aid him to accomplish his purpose, he knew Colonel Leslie well enough to know that its failure was predetermined. If it could not be done, Clara was pecuniarily not worth mar rying. He did love her, as well as such sordid n-atures as his can love, but he did not love her well enough to take untchimself a penniless wife. Hence the interview, and hence the sudden resolution to transfer his suit to Julia Bearing, whose father owned few negroes and had a

234

BTOWAH.

^:l:i

great deal of money in the form of promissory notes pj&ltl

tected by good collaterals. It was in this frame of mia&li

that Potts left Clara's home.

::::;|1

" Well, Julia, what did you think of Mr. Wellingtons

Napoleon Potts ?" said Clara, entering the parlor a few me*!!

ments after the departure of that worthy.

;:;ff

" I have invited him to call to see me and he has gracious!? ;|;

consented to do so," said Julia.

;; ;:;f

" What! after all you saw and heard!," said Clara, as-;;!

tonished at this statement.

';;;;.;;;

"After all that I saw and heard," coolly replied Julia. :.;;;:

"You have done Mr. Potts injustice--not by rejecting him ::;

as a suitor nor by the castigation you gave him, which all' ;

such skulkers richly deserve, but by thinking him a fool and ;

a coward."

:

" I think him both; that expresses my opinion of him

perfectly, and a knave in addition ! " replied Clara, for once

, thoroughly out of patience.

" He is neither; he is very uncommon, I think; he has a

vast deal of common sense, which is a very uncommon

article now-a-days," said Julia.

" So had Uriah Heep! I am disgusted with him., and you

can have his attentions, Julia, all to yourself, but I pity

you."

"You had better pity Potts, " thought Julia, as she men

tally resolved to make him know how fascinating she could

be, in order that she might the better chastise his temerity

as a lover and pusillanimity as a man. Then she said as

they went out together: "We will not talk of a disagreeable

subject, but really Mr. Potts has interested me by his cin*

tempt for the contempt ol other people. He is one of those

.selfish contemptible people who are not capable of loving

;:::

ETOWAH.

235

i;:: any one disinterestedly. Most men, on the other hand, ::: are but infants when they are in love. As a French writer ;;;.expresses it: " According to the ancient theogonies, ' Love i:: -I' Amour--is a baby of five years and a half,' but mean'-.- while, Hesiod assures us that he is older than time itself. "
"Mr. Potts was born old!" responded Clara. Henry Latane had been captured the month before this ': interview at the battle of Spottsylvania Court House, the name of the county-site of Spottsylvania county, Virginia. Suffice it to say that never, perhaps, has history recorded five such battles compressed into six days, as the battles of the Wilderness, which culminated on the 12th of May, in the battle of Spottsylvania Court House. In two days the Federals lost twelve thousand men, and the Confederate loss was nearly as great. It is useless to dwell upon the fact that the Federal army numbered one hundred and thirty-three thousand men, while the Confederates had only sixty-two thousand men, and yet repulsed their enemy at the cost of an enormous number of prisoners. Among the prisoners was almost the entire regiment to which Henry Latane belonged, and both he and his servant, Hallback, were cap tured. As the agreement for the exchange of prisoners had been abrogated and prisoners were no longer exchanged, Henry Latane real zed that he would remain in prison until the close of the war.

CHAPTER XXI.

Death lurked behind every hillock, nay every bush,

and fair to look upon the summer day when peace charms;;;;

the landscape, but treacherous and sinister as the eye of & ::

serpent when war plants a weapon there.

;:::;

From the summit of Kennesaw I viewed the glowing;;;:

landscape as the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge recede away ia;;;;

the distance; I saw puffs of white smoke, a sign I knew full;;;

well, and then the loud report of the Parrot guns planted OK?;;

yonder hill a quarter of a mile away.

;:

Opposite us is the summit of Pine Mountain, and three:::

G-enerals commanding our troops survey the scene from th&\\\

outpost there. They are joined later by a cavalry brigadier: transferred like myself from Virginia for the campaign in:;:

his native State. But one of those Generals can compare in ;

splendid physique with Bruton Stewart, and that is the

loved Bishop of Louisiana, Lieutenant-General Leonidas :

Polk. The smallest in stature is the master-mind and great

commander who, though pressed back gradually, inflicted a ;

loss of ten to one upon the enemy, and in whom the confidence.:

of all his troops was unbounded. A signal flag is waved

from yonder height, and our signal sergeant answers the

signal.

;

"What! General Polk killed! and by that battery a quarter;;

of a mile away !" The sergeant is up again; field glasses are ;

again directed toward the outpost; the flag flashes in the

I;;.

ETOWAH.

237

sunlight with rapidity as the signals are exchanged, like the talking between two deaf mutes.
"Yes, a cannon ball passed through General Folk's chest, from left to right, killing him instantly," said Colonel Harris, Inspector-General of the army, to me." . We' bore him down the mountain side, and in the rear of a store in the village he was laid, the most perfect picture of manly serenity and physical beauty I ever saw in a man of his age.
"Two hours ago," said Bruton Stewart to me, "he gave me instructions, and I was to report to him by daylight to-mor row. Truly--" Then he ceased, for why should two old soldiers, though young men who had "faced the music" a score ot times and more, why should they moralize about the uncertainty of life?
Two hours later we were at the front again, and a blaze of fire ran up and down the sides and heights of Kennesaw, now direct, now "en zig-zag," now to the right, then to the left, until that human tide is repelled and cast down the mountain sides. And a thousand died there!
Both armies in line of battle, and the long, seemingly continuous stretch of canvas in the distance is the Federal wagon train. Away to the right is a cavalry skirmish; to the left the opposing batteries are hotly engaged. And yon der, trending away toward the blue horizon the ranges of mountains grow fainter and fainter as coming twilight shuts out a scene where nature has painted her fairest landscapes, and the demon of war has let loose the lurid flames that are grander than any pyrotechnic display more terrible'than any scene peace can offer; but exciting to the true soldier as is the spirit of speed to the race-horse about to enter the
arena.

238

ETOWAH.

. i:i

There "Old Rock" illustrated this spirit of battle when h%i; horse was killed from under him; and leaping off, he is sees cutting the harness away from a horse attached to a caisson, and then mounting him bareback, with hoarse, rough voice,; he rallies and leads on his men--men, than whom neveti: braver fought in defense of their native land!
I see again, from the roof of the old Military Institutebuilding, itself on the highest hill, the lights and the red flag j of the signal station 011 the heights of Kennesaw. The low distant rumbling of artillery comes sounding through the night air. Our boys are doing their duty there !
Again I wander in the park in the village, where beaux and belles used to congregate and laugh the merry hours away. It is filled now with cots upon which recline the maimed heroes who have fallen during the battles now ra ging around Marietta.
But a few days ago General Hart led our brigade with sabre waving over his head, and gallant cheers answered hia beckoning challenge until we halted after a glorious victory!
Across this very park we dashed. Ah! but the counter-picture! my young friend, William Young, but eighteen years old, and the picture of manly beauty before that charge. With the gay bravery of a Southt ern soldier, uninfluenced by thought of office or promotion, this wealthy young gentleman gloriously illustrated the private soldier. I asked: "Who did you say was mortally wounded, Col onel?" And a great grief welled up in my heart as Thomp son answered, "William Young." There he lies, mortally wounded, but unconquered still, and murmuring, as I raise his head and give him a drink of water from my canteen, "It is the fate of war!"

p

ETOWAH.

239

S~;;' Near him is a Federal soldier, also mortally wounded, and ::::he, too, receives the attention which "soldier metes to ;;;.: soldier;" and although the noblest and bravest private in ;-;'--: our brigade is wounded unto death, no word of unkindnesa : : is spoken near that fallen foeman.
Again the shrill whistle of rifle and minnie balls come : over railway embankment, and the fight is joined in full
view of Institute Hill. A moment later, and Thompson is himself borne to the
: rear, shot in the head. '. But in battle all thoughts are merged in the one tri
umphant thought of victory; and a yell, followed by a dash ing charge, greets again our brigade commander as he rises in his stirrups and smiles when he sees the effect of our shells and canister.
And a few days later the Commanding General reported, in alluding to Bruton Stewart's fierce, stubborn fight a few miles distant, "The right of the Federal army made a change of front by which it faced to the east. It was opposed in this maneuvre by Stewart's cavalry, as well as 2,500 men can resist 30,000." *******
I was standing in the depot at Atlanta. The bomb-shells from the Federal army could be seen bursting as they pene trated the walls of the great buildings near it. But, pshaw! this was a daily occurrence, and we were quite accustomed to it. But what moved me more than anything else was the sight of hundreds of soldiers who leaned on their mus kets and wept! It is true, some cursed; others looked unuttered curses: many, many others wept.
Why ? The great General whom all trust has been removed from the command of the army. That was all.
Thirty-six thousand Confederates, of whom six thousand

240

ETOWAH.

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;N|1

were without arms, was the effective force of the Confederate:!!

army at Dalton in 1864. The odds were ten to four againg|||

them. This force was increased until it numbered 37.6511

infantry, 2,812 artillery, with 112 guns, and 2.392 cavalry. .;;;:|

Oppose/2 t uaem was an army of 98,797 men and 2o|;S

guns. To this force were added three divisions of cavalrp;

numbering 11,000 men. In the rear of the Federals wergf

119,000 enlisted men, fit for duty, which could be draws;|

upon freely if re-inforcements should be needed.

K;;;|

Why speak of "the continuous battle from June 10th t<a;s

July 2nd?"

1

Why speak of the incessant artillery fire for twenty-si x;;i;

days around Kennesaw mountain? .,

:;;:

Why speak of the exploit, greater than any which the;;:

ancient Fabius ever executed, of conducting this army of 43,-;;

:000 men one hundred miles, fighting almost daily forces;;

..nearly three times as numerous and infinitely better equip-;;

ped, without the loss of a single wagon?

Over 10,000 Federal dead are buried near the base of that

mountain, silent witnesses to heroic valor.

General Johnston had been removed.} That is but the loss :

of the services of one commander. But it was infinitely more:

depressing than all the toiling marches, the lack of shoes and :

comforts, the lack of ammunition and arms, the series of:

daily battles and continuous retreat.

The one thing the army did not lack was confidence in the

wisdom and ultimate success of their general.

"Of what avail the long siege," men asked one another.

" If he is removed, who can lead us to victory?"

But they did not murmur, and they fought as men only

fight who battle in defence of their homes.

It was the energy of heroism incarnated.

:;p

ETOWAH.

24 L

li:-: And this ''Gate'City" stands on "holy ground." Within |:;;iit during that siege rare scenes were daily enacted. |!L Here and there a straggling Confederate might be seen i; ; : silently viewing the wanton destruction with feelings "too : ; 'deep for utterance." Now a cavalryman, with his blanket,
:!: carbine and high-topped cavalry boots, would turn and watch :! : the bursting shells as a "hole" is made in the wall of some "''prominent building, and then, sticking spurs to his horse's
flanks, give a "rebel yell" and dash on to the front. '-, Upon the outer streets no vehicles are to be seen save those ; : unmistakable signs of war: ambulances, with the sick., ; wounded or dead, and gun-carriages, whose sombre mien is : enlivened by the laughing voices of light-hearted artillery
men. ; They were dressed in dingy jeans, but, for all that, were as : invincible as if clad in armor. Grand old uniform ! what if
it was dingy and rough. "A man's a man for a' that," and .-'these be men indeed.
There stand the long lines of infantry in the intrenchments; : that enveloped the Gate City which cannot be taken. . We feel it in our bones; indeed, we knoiv that this town can
not be taken by assault by a force ten times as numerous as; ours. They stretch all around Atlanta with similar interior lines, and, amid the constant firing, the men joke and laugh with the utmost bonhomie.
The 22nd of July ! I will not recall that gallant Confeder ate victory save to describe two scenes that will be indelibly impressed upon the retina until life shall end. One as themoving army is making the circuit around Decatur. I see that wonderful and indefatigable leader, Pat. Cleburne. He rises in his stirrups and orders the column to "close up!" as
16

^4'2

ETOWAH.

;"::;;ii

we neared the scene of battle. No one who saw him can fe-:::|

get his splendid appearance that day, rough but gloricms;;!

child of-war! As Cleburne's division entered the field, tb.ee:;:;:

ueneral close behind the centre, the ranks parted and thsHii:

heroic leader now rode in front of the centre and cried: "For-:::-

ward! charge! follow mei" And resistless as an avalanche::::

was the onset, as he repelled the enemy and drove them froni: : :

the entrenchments, though they were ten lines deep. They':':';

were struck by the flower of the Army of Tennessee, led by:;':';

Gieburne, just as General "Walker, the chivalric son of Geor-

gia, with flashing eyes and splendid mien, leads his column^

by our corps, and we give him a yell which reverberates above : -

tae battle roar.

,-.:

A few hours later G-eneral Walker was killed, but he will

ever live in the minds of those who saw him that fatal day.

The other scene was enacted by a mere boy, a youthful

aide-de-camp to our general of division. We had captured

as batteries opposed to our immediate command and a large

number of prisoners, when, in the very midst of our tri

umph, we -were ordered to fall back. Why we were so or

dered we never could learn- The enemy, seeing this, a:^d

realizing the great disparity in force, advanced on three

sides at once. Before we knew it we were .nearly surround

ed, and demoralization was
vJ

a1piparent

in

our ranks.

It

seemed that our whole brigade would be captured, and the

Texans to our left also. The color-bearer of the division,

borne back by the common impulse as the lines swayed

back and forth, sought safety behind a large oak tree. It

was then that this young aide-de-camp dashed up with the

news that re-inibrements were at hand.

But the color-bearer of that magnificent division, for the

first time in his life perhaps, seemed dazed, bewildered, una-

F

ETOWAE.

: Me to grasp the meaning of the order of this boy to go for;. urard. Bomb-shells were bursting overhead, or ploughing : (he ground, or scattering the missiles of death in the air. : Minnie balls were thick as hail, it seemed, and countless forms, the gray and the blue, lying close together, dotted the road and field.
'"' Go forward with that flag! " shouted the dauntless youth. " I can't. See! our line is far to the rear," replied the color-bearer. ''Forward ! I say, Ee-inforcemeB'ts are at hand. We must rally these troops!" The soldier hesitated. I held my breath as I saw the aide-de camp pull his pistol from the holsters, cock it and present it to the soldier's head. There were hundreds lying there, dead or dying, or griev ously wounded, but they were shot in battle by the enemy, and one does not stop to think of the man who has fallen just as his elbow touches one's own, so wonderful is the hold of the battle-spirit in the midst of the carnage. And all these fallen men moved me not. But this scene, when a mere youth--his eyes and every feature the very incarna tion of battle--was about to send a bullet crashing through the brain of a brave Confederate soldier--for none but the brave are made division color-bearers--paralyzed me for the moment. I held my breath and waited. Then came the voice of the color-bearer: "If you are so damned brave, take the flag and rally them yourself! " I felt that no other appeal could have saved his life, but tiw one did. With a smile of disdain he replaced his pistol, and amid

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:.;;-!

that hail of canister, calmly said: "I will do it; give it te|

me!"

;i

And gloriously did he do it! He did not look back to seip

whether one man followed him, but he moved forward, holttis

ing that grand old tattered standard erect amid the storm;;;:;

Too young or too feeble, for he already seemed physically;;;

exhausted, to hold it with one arm, he dropped the reins,;;;

and guiding his mare by his knees and feet, held the flag!:

forward with both hands and gallantly moved direct upon;;

the enemy's works.

;

Horse and rider seemed animated by a common impulse, :

and that was to get there \ And now a yell that was begun on

the right of the line reached the centre, and, like wave on

wave of sound, passed along the line to the farthest man on

the left, as they turned as if on dress-parade, and rushed for

ward to rally around that standard!

The tremendous odds against them were forgotten as they

saw that dauntless boy move steadily forward. They faced

the front and fought with desperate valor, as the entrench

ments were taken and lost again and again. To the right

and to the left they turned, and stood at bay, and repelled

the enemy. And just as the field is won, the horse and ridr,

still holding the division standard and still in advance of

all, go down, as a grape-shot tears its way through the flank

of the noble animal which has borne him so well. But the

flag does not touch the ground, for, amid all that dreadful

carnage, the color-bearer has walked behind that horse, eager

to regain what he had given up, and fearless of danger. That

flag had seemed to him country, home, wife, children--but

now another bore it, and the veteran of fifty battles followed

it aimlessly. As the gallant youth fell, still holding it with

both hands, the color bearer reached for it, and said: "Give

fly

ETOWAH.

245

|i: it to me now. I can carry it!" Leaping from the dust, and W wiping away that which obscured his vision, the aide-de-camp W. looked to see who this could be who would rob him of this 1; proud privilege. As he saw and recognized the color-bearer, s and remembered how nearly he had acted as his executiones, ;: he said: " I yield it to you, but to no one else will I sur;; render it," and gallantly did that soldier retrieve himself.
And now the young hero was a boy again, for tears came : into his eyes as he saw before him the expiring agonies of the :. noble steed which had borne him all through the Kentucky
campaign, and thence through Tennessee and Georgia. If '- ever eyes bade mortal farewell forever, the eyes of that faith
ful animal spoke its speechless grief at parting from its young

**

*

*

*

*

*

*

The Russians burned Moscow rather than have it fall into

the hands of the invading army of Napoleon, but what would

have been the verdict of history had Moscow, after being

surrendered to the invader, been utterly destroyed ?

A venerable matron proceeded to the headquarters of the

Federal army to expostulate with the modern Attila, for

already flames were devouring the city. Becoming indig

nant at this wanton destruction, she exclaimed: "Sir, this

is vandalism.!"

But he had written: "I purpose to make the inhabitants

of the South feel that war and individual ruin are synony

mous terms, and, even as she spoke, he handed to the orderly

the following order:

"Captain Hoe:

You can commence the work of destruction at once, but

don't use fire until the last moment."

Many sick and wounded had been nursed in that hand-

246

ETOWAH.

some old residence which, overlooked the city before it

been evacuated ; now it was tenanted by four ladies only,

remained in spite of the order -of the Federal General, andH;:;

of the protests of their friends. The flames enveloped thai;

entire city, and they viewed the sad but striking scene, bu!;;!:

refused to leave their home. They confided the family plates

to a faithful servant, an " oppressed slave," who, after the:::

enemy left, restored every piece of it. The fearless deport-::

ment of these ladies, as they refused admittance to the H

soldiers seeking booty, was strikingly illustrated : many had,:

attempted to enter, but a courteous remonstrance had turned!:

them aside. Finally a platoon of cavalrymen rode up to :

the house and the officer in command asked:

:;

"Why has this house not been burned ?

;

"Because we do not choose that it shall be burned," said a \

young lady standing at the door-way."

;

"Has it been searched ?"

:

"No, sir; and it shall not be searched," was her fearless

reply.

"Sergeant, enter that house and search it from garret

to cellar !" ordered the officer.

The young lady was exquisitely dressed, haAring put on

her best garments that day; "for," she reasoned, "a woman

has most influence when she is looking her best." She stood

in the door-way and said to the sergeant as he ascended the

steps : "Sir, you cannot enter !"

He laughed in derision and raised his hand as if to put

her aside. In an instant, calculating correctly the exact

moment when one foot was lifted and his balance was least

sure, she placed both hands upon his breast, and throwing

her whole weight against him, she pushed Mm backward

and he fell head-long to the ground.

||s

ETOWAH.

247

I;: Loud laughter from his comrades greeted his curses, which li''te muttered with an Irish brogue as he arose, and the officer I: ordered him to desist and remount his horse. \\\ Then lifting his hat in token of admiration for the heroic ::, girl, the officer led the platoon away.
When all danger was over, she, woman-like, fainted. . Time and again those fearless ladies, during the tfc;- . : ; eventful days of the burning of the city, followed the soldiers around that house and scattered the burning fagots as fast
as they were applied to the dwelling. These Irish-Yankees had good hearts, and, 'but for the
unscrupulous nature of the license given them to rob at will, would have spared rather than burn, as they did in this instance. While nearly all others were destroyed, that house was spared. Courage was the only weapon possessed by these heroic women, but that had thus far securely protected them.
Thus wrote Henry Latane in his journal, which he kept during the war. He had been especially favored, and had been exchanged by special request of Colonel Barnum, who happened to learn of his capture many months after he had l)3en a prisoner.
Thus the triumphal "march to the sea !" . Was it vindictive malice t No : it was WAR ! And to the r.iind of that general, "War is cruelty, and you cannot refine

But was it thus to the minds of Washington, or of Grant, ur of that greatest of all American commanders, General Robert E. Lee ?
Would either of them have us d the following language in his official report concerning this "March to the ;

248

ETOWAH.

" We have consumed the corn and fodder in this region cf-ii country, thirty miles on either side of a line ^from Atlanta i to Savannah, as also the sweet potatoes, cattle, hogs, sheepH and poultry; and have carried away more than ten thousand ^ horses and mules, as well as a countless number of tlwitslaves. I estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia, and its military resources, atone hundred millions of dollars. At least twenty millions of which sum has inured to our advantage, arid the remainder is simple waste and destruc tion."

I

CHAPTER XXII.

;;:

THE MARCH TO THE SEA.

;:

"La citta delle fiore, e la Flora delle Citte."

" Clara, the view from this point recalls the city of Florence; don't you think so ? Imagine that yonder picturesque hills are the heights of Fiesole, and that the Etowah river is the Arno, and the resemblance is striking."
" Indeed it is, father; it would be more so if we could see, below the foliage of yonder trees, the lovely flower-gardens that abound in our spacious homes. One remembers the ex pression which the Italians in Firenze use in describing it : 'The city of flowers, and the flower of cities,' ' La citta delle fiore. e la Flora delle Citie,' " she added, giving the expression in Italian.
" That describes Etowah, at least; I don't know anything about Florence," said Julia Bearing, stroking the mane of her spirited mare to keep her standing while they reviewed the lovely landscape.
The sun-set glow was on the burnished spires of the many churches, and irradiated the skies with its golden tints.
The large, square mansions in the city, with rounded columns extending from floor to roof, were half hidden by the centuryoaks; the huge mills along the river-side were all busy; a train of cars was crossing the river, and a steamer was ploughing the waters down stream. It was indeed a perfect April day, and, except where the waters rushed aflood just below them, the scene was calm, peaceful, serene.

250

ETOWAH.

. :||

But now and then an anxious look shadowed ColcKaipJ

Leslie's face, for he did not wish to check the bright gayi-aps

and happiness of the two girls by expressing the forebodia;j|s

which weighed upon him like a night-mare. Yonder ^^s

Judge Dealing's home--the very house where four years feisi

fore he had expressed such confidence of the success of Houssf;:

"Rule as championed by the Confederate States of the SoutK|;|

The legions of thought crowd the brain on an occasions!

like this, when all the past seems photographed upon the ro?s||

ina.

\:\M

They had received no news from "the front"--alas! whe;:|

now was the front ?--in ten days.

-;||

The people of that little city were determined to fight te;||

the last, though "the people" were composed of old men like : :g

Colonel Leslie and the young lad, Charles Latane, aged four- -;|

teen, who rode at his side.

^

General Lee had surrendered his army at Appomattox ten- ;

days before, but they knew nothing of it. The telegraph wires .U

had been destroyed by the enemy, and the last orders received

by the commander of the little garrison were to "hold the '

town as long as possible."

Just as Julia Bearing spoke, a solitary horseman appeared :'

in an angle of the road to the right of them: Though ascend- "

ing the hill he was riding at a gallop.

His face was darkened by frowns, his lips were closely cot;-'

pressed and his eyes seemed a gloomy menace. As ho passed

the group, however, his face blanched as if with fear or sur

prise, or both, as he bowed and slackened his pace. He was

hardly out of sight when two other figures passed by at a brisk

trot. They seemed following upon the trail of the other rider,

and their countenances were as ill-looking as the faces of

brigands might be.

|r-

ETOWAH.

251

i: They passed on without saluting our friends, but a cynical ifKiile, as if breathing an unspoken menace, might have been ifeted on the face of the younger of the two men. :; "I wonder where Mr. Potts is going," said Clara; "he usu;aily rides very slowly, but now he rides like a hurdle-racer." ,' "I would rather know where George Washburn is going," /aid Colonel Leslie; "the association of those three men at this juncture of affairs seems remarkable. I have never seen them together before, though each of them is known to be lukewarm, if not hostile, to our cause." I:. "I've seen them together often," said young Charles La'': tane. "They have been out to the creek near our school-house :: often; they pretend to be fishing, but they never carry back ": any fish. They don't speak to each other in town, but they are 'mighty' sociable when they meet each other there. Mr. Potts reads letters to them; I saw him do it yesterday."
Colonel Leslie's face was unusually graA'e as he. turned his horse toward the road, and said, with assumed cheerfulness. "Come, girls, it is getting late; now for a canter to the bridge." Their horses distanced his, and he saw with a shudder Clara challenge her cousin to make a detour that they might jump a ditch so wide that it seemed a perilous feat indeed. He reined in his horse, for it was too late to stop them, and saw the horses rise, leap and safely alight on the other side. He did not reprove Clara--he never did in the presence of an other--but she, accustomed to observe his every humor, saw it all in his face, and, riding back, crossed the little bridge that spanned the brook and rejoined her father, while Julia, with the mettlesome boy at her side, sped on like the wind in ad vance. The golden sunset illumined a peaceful scene as they ntered the town,' and contentment and prosperity seemed

252

ETOWAH.

::|1

to abide there if anywhere on earth. But the absence :<f|

young men was painfully apparent, for not a home was thesgS:

that did not have a representative at "the front."

: \\m

It was known that the Federal army of sixty-six thotisjli

and disciplined troops, after all the sick and disabled fesli

been sent northward, were marching, unopposed, toward tMI:

.sea, but it was hoped that the remnants of the ConfederaSP

.army, in South Carolina, would yet confront and oves;;;;

whelm them; and it was not imagined that this little citpl

situated so far in the interior, would be attacked, and yfeii

that was the meaning of the rapid riding of the three mesjl

led by Wellington Napoleon Potts.

;s|

The next day, from the hill where our friends had stood;;;

and viewed the peaceful scene, a cannon-ball passed over the;';;;

town, which was summoned to surrender.

.;;;;;

Like all Southern cities in those days, earth-works wests

.already prepared, and into them hurried the little garriscm;S

.of two hundred troops and six hundred civilians, or "Honfeil

'Guards." In the ranks was Colonel Leslie, seventy-two;;;

years old, and in the cavalry troop was Charles LatanS, aged;;:

fourteen. The hospital furnished its. contingent of.sick ana;;

wounded soldiers, the whole number defending the town be*:;|

ing eight hundred.

;;;

On the other side were twenty thousand"cavalrymen, with;;;

light batteries in support, all splendidly equipped.

;;;.;

And yet the battle raged all day and far into the night,: ;;

until a brigade, guided by Potts, Hefflin and Washburn,.;;

crossed the river upon a bridge several miles above, and;;;

entering the town from the north, attacked the patriots froin ;;

the rear. The streets and squares of the town were fille-l;

with pursuing and pursued cavalrymen, and the ground was!;

contested, street by street, until the mounted men reached;

K. ;

ETOWAH.

253

iilhe country. The remainder were captured, and the streets :;;sere littered with the wounded and the dead. The next ;yiay the carnival of the flames began, and among the Federal ;:; soldiery could be seen the crafty Potts and his confederates, iWashburn and Hefflin. the latter now wearing the Federal ;!nuiform. To them this scene of death and destruction :seemedan occasion for revel, and ribalJ jests were uttered by' hiiliem as the motley group of "Home Guards " passed by as prisoners. But one of the vast cotton mills, which were the ii.pride of the town and the support of thousands, was spared, ^ all the rest being burned as fast as the torch could be applied. j But neither the mill of the Messrs. Potts nor any house in . Pottsville, all owned by them, were burned, and this was their reward for treachery. Meanwhile, the war had ended '. ten days before at Appornattox! ;';.- Across the State a belt of fire sixty miles wide marked : the almost unopposed "march to the sea;" and, as the cap ital city had been destroyed, so was this little city doomed i to destruction.
What a change had forty-eight hours made! The peaceful, smiling town was in ashes; and of the laughing group who had so pleasantly compared it to the most beautiful city in :; Italy, the youngest, the brave, gallant boy of fourteen had been slain in the battle. ; Ah! well might a thought of Italy arise, for in his death :. were illustrated the words of the national hymn of Italy: " CM per la patria muore vesuto lo assail ("He who has died for his country has lived long enough.")

CHAPTER XXIII.

:;;!

THE MAECH TO THE SEA-- THK BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD. ':;;?!

Wellington Napoleon Potts now had it in his power to:-:;:;;

greatly befriend the people of his native town, but he seemed;;;!

to gloat over their misfortunes. He desired to emulate Ben-;;;;:;

edict Arnold, who was rewarded with a Major-General's: ;!

commission in the British army for his treachery to the!;;;

government which had honored him with high command. ii;

The town was now garrisoned, and thousands of Federal,;;

soldiers were quartered there. The promise of the President--;

of the United States to recommend that large rewards should : :

be paid for "loyalty to the Union" caused Potts to make-- : ;

this " loyalty " as conspicuous as possible. He did not visit :

Clara Leslie nor Julia Bearing to tender them sympathy or :

assistance, nor did he recognize them in any way.

: :.,':

"Every dog has his day." he reasoned, "and this day is

mine." This clay had in him its d op-. But, amid ail the'"

excitement and demoralization attendant upon th" capture

of the place, Cla;s and Julia preserved a calm, dignified

demeanor and proved themselves heroines. Julia was full

of suppressed excitement, but her attentions to her aged

father were redoubled, for his feeble health was ill-prepared

for such a shock.

Colonel Leslie was calm, self-possessed, almost i.'.-;c"din hi-

demeanor, although his losses of two thousand bales of co'

ton. which were burned by the enemy, amounted t<-> a ha'

million dollars in gold. Two hundred thousand bales 01

|||.-

ETOWAH,

255

piitton were burned, together with all the mills and factories p:;id public bun dings, except the property belonging to Potts |; :;md his few associates in infamy. Private residences caught

|: fee blaze and burned like tinder. Not a murmur escaped i;:: : kis lips as Colonel Leslie, placing his arm around his daughS : tor, kissed her tenderly and uttered words of encouragement. S:: "Be not uneasy about me, my father," said Clara; " I do S'not forget that I am your daughter."

:::.

^

'

'{

^

%

^

#

>!'

;; It is four days later, and the party of young men who ::: escaped the city, it seemed by a miracle, slowly reentered ; it. Smoke still hovered over the little city and the ashe=i :; cf the fireat conflagration were not yet cold. : As they passed Judge Dearing's residence, pall-bearers !' Fere preparing to remove a corpse to the hearse, and among :' them was the venerable Colonel Hugh Leslie, i "Who is it?" they asked.
The lamentations of the negroes were loud and protracted, : as the dead man was much beloved by them, for his decrees
against brutal treatment of slaves had made him famous while ho was a circuit judge. One of the negroes informed them that the body was that of Judge Dearing himself, and that lie lud been murdered by a drunken Federal soldier. 1 squad of soldiers, bent upon plunder, had entered his res idence and demanded food. Th.3 tea-table was surrendered to them and they were served plentifully. After tea thry dornanded gold and silver. They were informed that he had none, except the family jplate, whereupon they abused and insulted him. He bore their taunts and insults with digni fied silence.

Finally one of them approached Julia and attempted to

place his arm around her waist. She repelled him indig-

256

BTOWAH.

nantly, when another came to the assistance of her assailas|ll|

The old negress, who had been her nurse in childhood, skil

at the door, ax in hand, and when she saw their purpcSf

she said:

-^fl

" Here, marster, kill 'em \"

^|

The old jurist seemed suddenly endowed with the strengl

of youth, for, dashing aside two soldiers who endeavored:!!

intercept him, he sent the ax crushing through the skullg|

the one with whom Julia was struggling, and had raised it |

strike the other dead also, when he was instantly shot i|i

death by two of their companions.

i ;;:;l

"War is cruelty and you cannot refine it," said the cos

manding general. But cruelty can be the refinement of feae

ture, and this was the refinement of cruelty. To the

of humanity, be it said, such acts were rare, even in

days when the women of the land were at the mercy of Itsi!

enemy, and their former slaves were their only protectori

Sad as this murder was, what other war was ever accompl

nied by as few atrocities of this nature as was the war between

the States ? "Render unto Caasar the things that are Ctesar'sIf

Just as Judge Bearing was slain, the timely arrival of ;S

Federal colonel arrested the infuriated soldiers and prg*;

vented further outrage. Two of the drunken soldiers agaia

advanced with evil intent. The officer struck one with his!

sword and leveled his revolver at the other. The ominotigs

click of the pistol and his determined look meant death, an<|

they sullenly obeyed him. Not so the two who had mulrH

dered her father; they appeared at. the door, and, aiming:

their guns at him, cried to their comrades:

" Get out of the way there I We'll fix him, too \"

Just then a squad of soldiers entered and arrested the men,

striking up the gun-barrels just in time, for the balls pierced

Ip:

'

ETOWAH.

257

lltbe ceiling. They were instantly overpowered, and a seriNgeant said: p "Colonel, give the word and we'll kill the cowardly scounl:;drels on the spot." 1.N "No; arrest them and carry them to their regiment; they |;;shall be tried by court-martial." I;; Julia did not wait to thank her deliverer, but ran immediiNately to assist her father, who was dead ere she reached him, ::Nonesh.ot having struck his heart. She fell upon the corpse and s kissed the face of the dead time and again, but grief allowed Nneither tears nor words to the unprotected orphan. :NN "Endeavor to be quiet, Miss Bearing; I appreciate your Nisacred grief too much to intrude, but had I reached the house i'NSoouer this would not have happened. Miss Clara Leslie is N; Well, and at Thronateeska; can I not have your loved father Niborne there?" N : :- "Oh, no! no! no!" sobbed Julia. "Only take away your Nsoldiers, and leave me with my father!" and she threw herliself upon his corpse. :: The colonel said to the old negress,who had tried to assist N'her master: N "Here, "auntie," is my card;if anything is needed let me : know; I shall do all in my power to serve Miss Bearing. I N-'shall return to-morrow; Sergeant Cook will remain in the house to protect you from violence or annoyance, and to make known Miss Bearing's wishes to me. Call upon me as if I were a friend or relative of Miss Bearing's, for nothing that I can do will be left undone. I will be at Colonel Les lie's home."
Colonel Barnum--for it was none other--had reached Colo nel Leslie's in time to prevent trouble there, and at Clara's
17

258

ETOWAH.

request had hurried into the city in order to place a

at the residences designated by her.

So busy had Colonel Barnum been in seeking to

this people, composed now of women and boys and very a|s||

men, that he was not permitted to see his friends again. ;:||l|

left with his regiment, which accompanied the army.;!!ll

regiment of negro troops now garrisoned the city. III!!!

At Chestatee a guard had been placed, even before CoM||l

Barnum's arrival, by some one in authority, who lode uplfll

the dark, and called Martha to the gate. He requested^!!

not to ask who he was, but stated that he was a friend of III!

family, and that they might rest assured that no one in tl||

household would be harmed. The guard consisted of Wj

negro soldiers, who were very respectful in their manneJFitil

all the inmates, both white and black. The officer worelllf

Federal uniform, and Martha heard the soldiers address'E|iS|

as " Captain." She could not see whether he was a wS|S

man or not, as he rode off quickly after giving her this ^|

surance. Mrs. Leslie was too full of grief at the death of;fig

youngest son to notice anything save little Minnie, whoi&s!

erted herself to comfort her mother.

'II!!

During all the succeeding days of trial for the peopte|||:|

Etowah not an exciting episode occurred at her home. Til!

guard was regularly changed, and they scrupulously obepl!

the order not to talk to any one on the plantation.

would they give the name of the captain under whose

they seemed to act.

It was only after the troops had all left Etowah that.-

following letter to Mrs. Latane explained the care w

which her interests were protected.

|;;

ETOWAH,

259

I;

ETOWAH, April 26, 1865.

s: ; "Mv DEAR MISTRESS--I am greatly grieved to hear of young

:;;Master Charles' death. I hope and pray that Master Henry

swill be restored to you safe and well. I have not heard from

;:;Mm since he was captured. I tried to aid him then, but we

:::Sere both captured. I.am now a captain of a cavalry com-

ijjany composed of men of my own race, but I have the same

: attachment to you and your family that I always had. You

lean always rely on my doing all in my power to aid the

::;kindest, best mistress a slave ever had.

:: I am coming to see all my friends after awhile. I have

Spaced soldiers to guard you during this terrible trial, and

ism sorry I can do no more. Your faithful servant,

i"

HALLBACK,"

:;:: ; A lew days after this occurred, Henry Latane, with other i::tfficers, reached home. They had walked all the way from |;firginia. As the travel-stained and dusty young officer,, I'rearing his uniform and side-arms, entered the hall the serIsants shouted with joy. He had never looked handsomer. liiiittle Minnie rushed to his arms, and his mother, dressed in. |iifeep mourning, tenderly enbraced her son. "Where is Char;lie, mother ?" She could not reply, but his little sister said ;!a grief-stricken tones: "'Brother Charles was killed I" The ^Stoned soldier leaned on his sword and wept. II This last fight of the war between the States would have .i'iSeen chronicled as one of momentous interest had it hapiigsned a century ago. But, by the side of the colossal shocks s-of arms that attended the great battles of the period, it seemed ;;'!<!? no consequence, and it has not even been noted by the ; historians; and yet all that the noblest self-sacrifice and ;sthe most heroic courage could do had been done, and every Is&ase of human nature had been thrillingly enacted. It
resistance to the hitter end in defense of their homes.

260

ETOWAH.

I!

Such heroic men might have been deceived or misled, and it-JI

may be best that the cause for which they fought shoulill

have failed, but in their natures was nothing which deserves:!

the epithets "rebel" or "traitor."



They were patriots of the loftiest stamp. But in the eye&;l

of the conquerors there were but few "patriots" there, and;!

the most conspicuous among them were Potts, Hefflin and:!

Washburn. God save the mark I

;|;

A month before, another gallant hero had greeted the:S

warrior's death. And he, too, the day before his death,:i:i:

when full of hope and courage, had written to Julia Bearing i:;;

that all would yet end well, and had intimated that he hoped |

for a bright reward for his constancy when the war should ; |;i

end.

ji

Throughout the State, and, indeed, throughout the South, \\\

may be seen upon the walls of the homes of the highest and

the lowest a picture representing the "Burial of Blount." ;

A small group of ladies, a little girl, several female negro ser- :

vants and an aged negro man who dug the grave, were the sole : ;

witnesses to this burial of one of the most promising young :

officers in the army. He had fallen almost at the gate of :

the old plantation homestead which these ladies had refused to :

leave. The battle had raged around the old mansion and

more than one bomb-shell had passed through it, but these

gentlewomen, with the few servants described, remained

there during the storm of deadly missiles; and as they saw

this young officer rallying the troops, with the standard in :

his hand until he fell, and his comrades eagerly pressing

on, they begged that they might be. permitted to pay the last

sad rites. His name, rank and regiment were given them,

and they left him to their care.

Ah I what a pathetic scene was that when the eldest of

;!;

ETOWAH.

261

;;;; these ladies read the Episcopal burial service as the corpse : was lowered into the ground ! The tears of those faithful ;;'slaves were genuine, for, though they knew him not, the ; -tender chord of sympathy is as keenly touched by suffering : in the breasts of negro slaves as in the whitest that ever
breathed. And who were these ladies who illustrated at once heroic
fearlessness and the most feminine sympathy and the most ' exalted Christian charity ?
Far back in the records of the " Old Dominion " the name which they bore is inscribed among the first families of the : land. In the Revolutionary war it was favorably known, and a brigadier-general in the Confederate army in Virginia had recently illustrated it by yielding up his life in defence of his country.
This act of genuine charity to the unknown dead, perpet uated by this engraving, will ever be a pleasing thought to all who bear the honored name.
And to this day his grave may be seen there in the lawn of the old home. But the flames that marked the pathway of the "March to the Sea," that blasted with needless desolation a belt sixty miles wide across two States, left naught but chimneys to mark the site of the home itself. On the tomb of Major George Blount one may read the words of a gallant Confederate poet:
"The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo!
No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few;
On fame's eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead."

262

ETOWAH.

li illl

The war was ended.

::::::!|

The negro was a freedman. Slavery was extinct. : ,; ill

*There had been enrolled in the Federal armies two Mill

ions and six hundred thousand men. There had been enrsi!e||:

in the Confederate armies six hundred thousand men. !; all

/"The Federal prisoners held by the Confederate authoritlil

numbered two hundred and seventy thousand men. ::||

The Confederate prisoners held by the Federal authorits!!;

'numbered two hundred and twenty thousand men.

:l|

'The Federal prisoners who died in Confederate p_Jso|l

[numbered twenty-two thousand and five hundred, and seveas

^ty-six men.

:^

The Confederate prisoners^ who died in Federal p_risos|:

numbered twenty-six thousand and four hundred and thirtjs-i

six men. Yet the whole world has been regaled with tag

^.atrocitiesjit Andersonville!

:<|;

Yet it was in the power of the Federal Government at any!

time to set all their prisoners free by an exchange of prison- ;!

ers, and it was they who refused to make such an exchange,:;

and abrogated the cartel agreed upon to that end.

.1;

And on the high seas nearly 500,000 tons of American:;

shipping was transferred to the British flag to prevent cap-::

ture by Confederate cruisers.

:|

The magnitude of Confederate captures on the high seas is:;

proved by the figures of results presented at the. Geneva"

Congress, where bills for $26,408,170.31 were audited and

presented for payment to Great Britain, as the total value of:

image done by Confederate cruisers.

;

No statement can offset this exhibit, and no exhibit can

better fix in history the record of the valor of the armies of

"These figures are official, and are from the records in the United States War Department.

ETOWAH.

263

illfe Confederate States and the self-sacrificing heroism of the sloathern people. : Were such soldiers "Traitors!" .....................

' with the terms! \ These Confederate soldiers and lors and"iKeir brave and gallant foemen were, above all, lll&mericans, and their deeds are the common heritage of all : '&e citizens of these Re-United States. In time to come, as now, when the names and valorous Offeeds of those who died in defence of home and right are re;jsated. ''n glad acclaim will admiring hearts respond :

" Roll back, O Time, the sacred scroll On which is told their story: For by the light that falls to-day We read their quenchless glory. For no historic page proclaims Such deeds of high endeavor As those the South enshrines within Her heart of hearts forever.

Awake ! fond memories of the past,

E'en though ye bring us weeping:

Unroll, O Time ! the precious scroll

We gave into your keeping.

Flash all the golden letters out

i

That tell their glorious story;

Proclaim from every mountain peak

Dead on the field of glory.7 "

CHAPTER XXIV.

;!:

L'ABCOBALENO.

s:

A year had passed since the tragic death of Judge Bearing. The sale of the residence and payment of all claims against his estate left Julia only one thousand dollars. Her proud \ : spirit suffered keenly when she thought of her dependence upon her uncle for support. She determined to leave this hospitable home which was hers for life if she would have it. She would leave it before the thousand dollars was exhausted. She had been in the habit of spending three times that sum annually, and it looked very small indeed to her. Her extravagance was not for personal display so much as unbounded charity. She had saved out of her annual allowance one thousand a year until she had accumulated enough to build an Episcopal Chapel for the factory opera tives at her own expense. This beautiful Chapel had been finished two years before, and the good people loved the handsome girl as if she was a princess and they her subjects. Often in the rain she could be seen mounted upon her spir ited mare, carrying medicines to some invalid whose poverty prevented her from applying to a doctor or an apothecary. No exposure seemed to hurt her vigorous constitution, and she never tired of these attentions to the poor. Meanwhile there was an utter absence of ostentation or the appearance of conferring an obligation upon the recipients of her lavish charity.
Judge Bearing had never denied his daughter anything. Since her father's death, these charities had been discontin-

|; ;;:

ETOWAH.

265

fh ued, except as to medicines and kindly attentions. She *,. walked now, for she did not feel able to afford a horse, and : 4 she refused to accept the use of Clara's. Now, too, she was ; repaid, for the poor do not forget a kindness. ;:, "Thank you, Miss Julia; God bless your tender heart! ;. and he will do it, child," said Mrs. Higgins, as Julia, after \', giving her the medicine needed, smoothed her pillow for her
and placed her own fine cambric handkerchief, which she moistened in water, upon the invalid's feverish forehead.
"I hope so, Mrs. Higgins; though I hardly think a proud, rebellious nature like mine will be acceptable to God."
"You ain't proud a bit, child ; you are jist a born nat'ral lady, and you orter hold yourself high-like. There were grand folks even in the days when the Bible was written, and you can't no more be like us poor, ignorant folks than a fish kin walk!"
"Good-bye, Mrs. Higgins; you flatter me so I must leave you. I see the clouds are thickening up, too, and I must hurry home." How desolate she felt as she said "hurry home." She realized that she had no home; for when the heartless hand of the creditor closes the old homestead to you, it seems a mockery to walk familiar halls and rooms where you dwelt in your happy childhood.
The clouds were indeed thickening, and the thunder sound ed the tocsin for the gathering clans. As she left the humble home of the aged factory operative, the big drops began to fall and she walked rapidly--so rapidly that she came near run ning against a tall form, whose military cloak and lowered visor protected him from the storm.
"Why, Miss Julia! what are you doing out in such a storm as this?"

266

ETOWAH.

..";;.

"I've been making a few calls," she said, hurrying on.

Colonel Barnum had turned to accompany her.

"Don't take the trouble to come with me, Colonel; yotiV

will get soaked."

:

"And what will become of you, I would like to know ?" "

he said, taking off his cloak and putting it around her in

spite of her objections. "Don't say nay, Miss Julia ; I must

have my way this time. You have been on one of your

missions of mercy, I know, and the poor can't permit you

to get sick."

"Indeed, I am grateful for your kindness, and I accept

with a protest. I am not delicate, and have never been

sick a day in my life," she replied.

"It is well for the poor that you have ample means. To be

dependent upon the charity of friends for support is a hard

lot, but to be thus dependent without having friends, friends

who do not refuse to help the poor, 'on principle,' you

know, is the hardest lot of humanity."

.;

Again was this suggestion, which was burning into her

soul, made to her, and made by Colonel Barnum, whose

thoughtful, considerate speech and ma'nner had become

noted. "To be dependent upon the charity of friends for

support is a hard lot;" that was what he said. Indeed, it

was! A yoke she determined not to bear, if she could cast

it off.

The rain now fell in torrents and put an end to further

conversation. A sudden gust of wind caught a flap of the

military cloak which Barnum had thrown around her and

came near bearing it away; seizing it instantly, he placed it on

her shoulders again and fastened it around her throat. He

did not ask permission, this calm, determined man, but

simply and sensibly proceeded to do the right thing in the

ETOWAH.

267

right way. Ceremony in a storm is nonsense. Julia appre ciated this, but said nothing. It was a new sensation--this thing of having a beau not at all afraid of her, not at all officious or presumptuous, not at all diffident. There was something in his manner, rather than his speech, which seemed to say, "I do thus because I so will; I so will because it is right."
They reached Thronateeska drenched to the skin in spite of all protection offered by the military cloak.
"Why, bless my heart, Julia! Ah.! Colonel Barnum, walk in. Don't stop to talk; you'll catch your death in a rain like this. Come in !" said Colonel Leslie. "I wish no bet ter cause to die in than serving this daring Samaritan," said Barnum to Colonel Leslie. Meanwhile Clara had hurried Julia to her room and made her change her dress. Her love and attentions to Julia were redoubled, now that she was dependent upon them for love and protection.
"I am exceedingly glad, Colonel Barnum, that you met Julia," said Colonel Leslie; "I would not have been sur prised if she had made additional, visits despite the storm, if she had not met you, and I fear she is not as strong as she was."
"She must have a very determined character," suggested Barnum. "More than any woman 1 ever knew," replied her uncle, "but she is always right. She is utterly unselfish and is as fearless as it is given to any human being to be; withal she is refined and modest as"--Clara--he started to say, for Clara was perfection in his eyes; but pausing an instant, he said, "as any girl I ever knew. In fact, I wish she was my daughter."
"May I ask a question which may seem inquisitive, if not

268

ETOWAH.

:::|

impertinent: is not pride the greatest difficulty she has te ;;: :

contend with?"

;;;|

"Yes; that is what I meant hy saying, 'I wish she was :

my daughter.' She will not allow me to do anything for ;

her which involves the least outlay of money. She always i

rode or drove on her charitable visits during her father's life, ;;

but she disposed of all her property, includingher horses and. i

phaeton, to settle claims against his estate. Her father was

very patriotic and invested nearly all his property in Confed

erate bonds. He held claims against many parties for money

loaned which proved to be worthless and insufficient to pay

his indebtedness, incurred solely by his liberal indulgence

of these parties."

"Do you mean to say that Miss Bearing is no longer an

heiress?" said Barnum.

Colonel Leslie, with a look of astonishment not unmixed

with displeasure, replied: "I do; I mean to say that, after.

all claims were settled, there remained but one thousand dol

lars to her credit; and I mean to say further, that she refuses

even to accept the use of Clara's horse, or pony-phaeton, or car

riage, except when she accompanies her, and then only to

oblige her cousin. I mean to say more, that she needs no

assistance, for my home shall be hers as long as she lives."

The old gentleman was pacing the floor now. He did not

wish to doubt Barnum as he had doubted Henry Latanfi,

who, although all had been explained, was still a rare visi

tor. But he could not help asking himself, "Are Barnum's

frequent attentions to Julia due to mercenary motives?"

The truth is Colonel Leslie was a very proud man, and so

was Henry Latane; and when two proud, haughty men have

a misunderstanding, the trouble widens with time. Hence,

;:,

ETOWAH.

269

; while there was no further doubt, there was a frigid formali ty on Henry Lataiie's part which chilled the otherwise warm reception .which awaited him. He had called but once, and lie had selected this tempestuous evening, after the storm had cleared away and the arcobaleno spanned the sky, to re peat the visit with a view to learning whether Clara had still any lingering attachment for him. He had selected this evening, because it was not probable, he thought, that any other visitor would be calling on the young ladies after such a storm, and he felt that to procrastinate longer would be insupportable. After tea, at which repast Julia was pensive and silent, a most unusal state of mind for her, the young people repaired to the parlor where Clara, in order to gratify Barnum, whom she believed to be very much interested in her cousin, seated herself at the piano, and was playing "The Blue Danube" with such verve and ease, that her execution would have de lighted the ears of Johann Strauss himself, when a ring at the door was heard. She had hardly left the piano when Henry Latane was ushered in the parlor. The two gentlemen greeted each other cordially. Under ordinary circumstances, Julia Dearing would haA^e said to Barnum something to induce him to talk to her, that Henry Latan6 and Clara might have a quiet chat together. Now she hesitated, and met Henry Latan<3. timidly. The earnest, serious man whom she had first known as a protector, whose arm shielded her at the very moment her father was slain, and to whom she owed her life, had tor ,hed an inner chord in her nature untouched before. "Miss Julia," said Latane, seating himself beside her, lain commissioned by my mother to say to you that she claims

270

ETOWAH.

ill

that month's visit which you have promised her. I neeii??

not assure you I will enjoy it as much as she will." This;;;

was said after a half hour's chat--cross-fires of little nothings-;-?

yclept "small talk" between the four. Clara and Colpnrf;;?

Bamum were now on the veranda, and these two were left;;:

alone.

;;

"You and auntie are very kind, Captain Latane, and I;;

will never forget it; but do you know that I am almost de-;

cided to leave the State in a few days?"

;

"Leave the State!" said Latane with surprise. "What on ;

earth are you thinking of leaving us for?"

;

"I have told you purposely," replied Julia. "Mr. Barnum'.;

and Clara seem to be having a pleasant time on the veranda,

and, as I may not have an opportunity of seeing you alone

again, I want to ask your advice--not about the step, that's

decided, but as to the place I shall go to."

"What are your plans, if I may be permitted to ask?"

said Latane.

"My plans are simply to earn nay own support; the thought

of being dependent upon others is becoming a burden too

great to be borne. I design teaching school, or becoming a :

governess, or something of that kind. Women have but few

means of supporting themselves in this country. In the

South it is a new question, growing out of the war, and the

proudest scions of the best families may as well 'face the

music' at once. They will have to earn their bread sooner

or later."

" God forbid?" said Latane; "God forbid that you, or any

of our gentle, lovely girls should ever be forced to contend

with the scoffs and taunts and sneers of the world!" Then,

forgetting his love for Clara which he had received no evi

dence was reciprocated, and thinking only of the gulf which

|::i

ETOWAH.

271

liJseemed yawning to receive this inexperienced, devoted girl, i:;:iie said: " Think no more of it, Miss Julia; I will not per::;;imt it. Nothing will make mother happier than to receive iiyou as a daughter, and, if you will make my hom-i yours for :::life, I will do my utmost as your husband to make you Chappy." : Julia had not expected this. She felt confident that both ;;;Lataneand Barnum loved Clara, and she knew that Clara had :; loved Henry Latane. True, she seemed changed now. She : was reserved and even seemed to avoid him, while he had :-' made no efforts to renew his former position as a suitor for
Clara's hand. Clara felt that Henry Latane had learned to admire Julia more than herself, and hence a tacit under standing that the subject was not to be alluded to was ac cepted by both the girls. Henry Latane had been stung to the quick by the cold, haughty manner of Colonel Leslie, and vowed to himself never to be a suitor where he was not ac ceptable to parent as well as child. He loved Clara, he knew, butifshehad loved him as he loved her, he thought she would have prevented this unworthy suspicion from taking such deep root.
" Any good woman will make any good man a good wife if all other things are suitable," he persuaded himself.
Now he had crossed the Rubicon and had burnt his bridges behind him. What was her answer? Looking into his face with a grateful smile, she said: " Captain Latane, your kindness overwhelms me. Do not deceive yourself; you have said this to me from generosity, not love. You love Clara--nay, don't deny it; it is better that you should. I shall never marry until I can prove that no mercenary motives could induce me to take that most sacred of vows. I must

272

ETOWAH.

;;.||

act; I can't delay longer, and, deeply as I thank you for tfe&||

honor you have done me, I must decline."

:::::||

She was weeping now, and taking her hand he kissed it;;i

and retained it.

:::|i

Regaining her calmness she asked him to excuse hers;!;

moment and left the room. This left Latane in an awk-::f

ward position, for Barnum and Clara were so intently en-1

gaged in important conversation that they had not noticed;;!

Julia's absence from the room. Latane pretended to be read-:;!

ing, or examining a copy of G-ustave Dore's illustrations ia:-;;;;

the "Ancient Mariner," and thus prepared himself for Cla- :;i;

ra's surprised exclamation: "Captain Latane, where is Julia ?" i:;

stepping into the room as she spoke from the veranda.

:S

" She excused herself for a few moments," said LatanS.: :

Evidently, in his mind at least, Barnum had been engaged ;

in a most confidential conversation, in which Clara was :;;

much interested, or she would have ascertained Julia's ab- ;

sence ten minutes sooner than she did.

;

"They can't be engaged, but at the same time it is per- ; ;

fectly plain he has been in love with her for years. I can't ;

blame him either, for surely she is the loveliest person I ever ;

saw."

Thus thought the young man, already thankful that Julia

had declined his proposition, yet more than ever determined

that he would not make himself miserable about Clara.

Barnum had requested Clara to give him her undivided

attention until he had unburdened the sentiments which

animated his breast. He had thought for a long time that

Julia was the most superior person he had ever met, and

the more he studied her character, the more he became

charmed with her.

" Miss Clara," said he, " it may seem unprecedented that

VVi

ETOWAH.

273

lilhould ask you, whom I once fancied I loved, to be my M'viser in an affair where I know my happiness to be most fgjrkmsly concerned. I wish to know whether it is not betiiiir that I should say nothing about it, but quietly go away, iliefore the object of it suspects that I have aspired to win
,.:&"
|V: " It is the first time I have ever been asked such a question, |-;olonel Barnum, but I will do anything in my power to serve pJulia, and I-have not been so blind as to fail to see your I attachment for her." |V " I have never attempted to deceive any one," he replied, i:" and you are the last person I should feel tempted to repose Vahalf-confidence in. I love your cousin; have long loved ;;fer, and I had determined to bide my time and wait until : ; gome circumstance might give me reason to hope for success. ;; But I have waited in vain ; while conscious that she does not now reciprocate my love, I have learned that she is un: happy. Besides, your father informed me to-night that she was almost penniless. I wish to offer her the true devotion of a loyal heart. I have no means except my profession; I have found time to study law, though still in the army, and have been admitted to the bar in New York. So long as I supposed she was an heiress I had decided not to address her until I had demonstrated my capacity to support her by my own labor without any reference to her property. There is now no cause for further delay. I wish to ask you whether it is proper for me, a Northern officer, to seek to make a Southern girl, whose father was assassinated by a drunken Northern soldier, my wife."
" I am glad you have told me this, Colonel Barnum. Julia has changed greatly from the happy, buoyant, self-reliant
18

274

ETOWAH.

: ' :::111

girl she was before her great loss. I think she likes ;pfII

particularly; I do not know whether you can win her Ism^i

but it is a prize worthy the efforts of an emperor. Ja|p|

Bearing would grace a palace or a cottage, and adversilp

will but ripen those noble traits of character which you segssl

to appreciate. I love her as I would my sister. She -ig;.p

positive, energetic character with altogether good impul|!ii

She has a frank, fearless way of speaking, which causes carfp

ing critics to speak harshly of her, but she is a true frieai'fi!!

If you would win her, let your policy be festina lente, ag|l

never speak of her father's death. That may prevent her froS;!

ever marrying a Federal soldier; but do not despair. SK&

is worthy of your most persistent efforts, and I cannot api

press a kinder or more sincere feeling than when I say |;|

think you are suited to her and worthy of her."

::Hs

"Thank you, Miss Clara; I would not take a prince's fbjH-

tune for the hope you hold forth." This was said justs*!

they reached the parlor window, and Latane' heard it. Thiis;;!

was confirmation of his worst fears. He remembered now;-!

his conversation with Julia Bearing, in which she had re-!

lated the reported engagement of Clara with Barnum after?!

his recovery, and Julia's remark : " What a pity it will be if!;

Clara Leslie marries a Yankee officer!"

;!!!!

Stranger things had happened; Hugh and Barnum hajp

been devoted friends, and if Barnum's popularity with ths!!;

citizens continued to increase as rapidly as in the past, he!;

might stand for Congress from that district with strong pros-;

pects of success.

!!

These thoughts had passed swiftly through his brain as be ::

said calmly: " She excused herself for a few moments." -

"How unlike Julia to treat me so!" said Clara, taking a

seat near Latane.

i;

ETOWAH.

275

111:" f owe you an apology/' said Julia, re-appearing just in Iliae to hear Clara's remark, " and I'll make it now : CapIllsm Latand and I are such old friends that I take liberties gS;s:ith him." ||: ;;;Julia then turned to reply to a remark addressed to her sissy Barnum, as if nothing of any moment had transpired. iisGlara, evincing a painful embarrassment after a few moments' MIence, said to Henry: " Captain Latane, I am really glad 1 o i see you; you have not been treating us as kindly as we had flhoped you would." I;. If she had said "I," instead of "we," Latane would have :| interpreted the remark as it was intended, for Clara way inmost anxious for a complete explanation of the past, yet her i: modesty would not permit her to make the first overtures. :: As she did not say " I," Latane replied, " You are mis-- I taken, I think, Miss Clara; a man who calls to see you on a, i night like this must surely wish to cultivate--the family." : His tone, caused by the last remark made by Barnum,. : which implied at least a better understanding with Clara , than he had anticipated, rather than his words, seemed un: kind to Clara. Indeed, Henry Latanfi, torn by jealousy, had . spoken as he never had done before. Realizing it instantly, his naturally courteous manners returned, and he spoke most pleasantly the rest of the evening. Before taking his leave he said to her, " Miss Clara, I must ask your pardon for my rudeness; I do not know what impelled me to risk your gord opinion, which I have wished to preserve for so long a time."
" It has never been forfeited, Captain Latand," she said, extending her hand to him as he stepped from the door into the veranda. Her smile as she said this, so like thesmile which had first so won his heart, emboldened him todo more. Without saying one word, he clasped that warm

276

ETOWAH.

- : i!ii:i|

little hand in his, then bore it to his lips and kissed it pap sionately. A moment after he was gone. Clara stood st||! listening in an almost dreamy way until the sounds of |!|| horse's hoofs had died away. Then, with a happier than she had experienced in years, she went to her to dream over again the roseate dreams of love and hope,
As Henry Latane rode back to Chestatee, conflicting tions fought for the mastery in his bosom. Again he fell:!;! that his love was returned, and yet he doubted. But refiefi! tion told him that he, a man whose pride it had been to CQB-;! quer himself and curb his impulses--he, a soldier, renewals!!! for courage, and possessing gravity unusual in one so young---: lie, a devoted lover for four long years in spite of the inju&ii 'tice to which he had been subjected, had addressed two girls! -on the same evening and in the same house! He despised.! himself, and inwardly resolved, if Clara discovered it, that lie would offer his sword to the Khedive of Egypt, or tiisi Sultan of Turkey. All that he had been accused of was not r.s bad as this! True, he had not said anything of love i Clara, but that kiss was the whole history of love in one! sentence. For the first time in his life he had been guilty of deception, and yet he was irresistibly led to it by the most honorable of impulses. His reflections as he paced his room till the great streaks of dawn were such as a thousand men have uttered before him, viz.: " A man in love is : a fool!" The sun arose and its bright beams invading hs! room seemed like a sacrilige to his feverish brain. He could stand it no longer. Going to his desk he drew out paper and pen and wrote rapidly the following note, which he; i- ent by a servant to Julia Bearing:
"Miss JULIA--You were right in refusing me. I am unorthy your love or that of any noble woman. I not only

||:

ETOWAH.

277

Iparned that I loved your cousin, but gave her the most posi-

lJi;?e assurance of it. This was done, too, the very same night

liirich had witnessed my declaration to you. You may de-

Iliiise me for this; I certainly despise myself, but I have never

ffet deceived any one, and at the risk of losing your friendship

Hind esteem, I have stated the plain truth. Believe me, I

liiwas sincere in both instances. If you had accepted my offer

ilithis vould not have happened. I ask no secrecy. Punish

Iline as I deserve. Respectfully yours,

Hi

HENRY LATANE."

!;: The messenger quickly returned with the following reply:

;;;. "CAPTAIN LATANE--No schemer or deceiver would have ;; acted as you have done. You have acted naturally and hon;; orably. I am the only person who has a right to have an ;; .opinion about it, and I like you better for it. It was your : : generosity which prompted you to offer me a home; I have :>; thought for years that you and Clara loved each other. Never :: despair, but trust to time, and all will come right. Your : letter is destroyed, and your confidence shall be kept a secret. :; Destroy this also, and keep the matter I alluded to a secret
also. Hurriedly and sincerely your friend, JULIA DEAEING."
When Henry Latane called to see Clara Leslie the next week, the servant informed him that she was out riding with Colonel Barnum. When he called the week after, Clara was out taking a walk with Colonel Barnum. Surely Julia Dear iug had been mistaken in thinking there was no serious understanding between Clara and Barnum.
" And what right have I," he asked himself, " to infer that she reciprocated my attachment? Clearly none."
A fatality seemed to have separated these two, and had La tane' been imbued with any fatalistic notions he would have abandoned the effort as a hopeless task. He was not a fatal ist and he did not abandon it.

278

ETOWAH.

:::;::

What ;.i change comes over our very natures as years::)

round and circumstances weave their web around

and time traces its index lines upon the features. The yo

have grown matured, the old are dead, the blossoms

tered by the wind, the flowers nipped by the frost of

fortune; then as the snows of winter melt, and the green gE

springs forth beneath the spring sunshine, so the chaste^i|ll

spirit, summoning anew its courage, lives a new life wijj||l|

blossoms and flowers again. Clara, naturally joyous appil

sunbeam upon the rippling waves of a placid sea, was

calm and gently winning in her manners; womanly, rat|i|ll

than girlish, and inspiring universal esteem. Julia, nattflt

ally gay and careless, but proud even to haughtiness sojsfil

times, and seemingly incapable of deep feeling, was nap:!

thoughtful and dignified, careful of speech, and gentler aslll

more patient than she had ever been. Misfortune had tetSll

pered her character like the steel of the Damascus blade sajjji

purified it like refined gold.

ill

;:

CHAPTEB XXV.

I;.

AT CHESTATEE,

iDown the magnificent avenue of live oaks, whose boughs Meet over the broad road like an arch fashioned for the tri*Smphal entrance of some magnificent pageant, rode a dozen gentlemen and ladies, and one of the ladies wore the " brush," sibr the fox had been caught on the outskirts of the estate, ::iire miles distant.
The trees seemed certainly a century old, requiring three aea with outstretched arms to girdle them. At the end of line avenue, and in the center of a square of splendid old lii&ees, stood the mansion. Its style is indescribable, being |;-$uilt partly of stone and partly of wood, both of which show i; plainly the ravages of half a century. The main body of the !: house is a large, square house of ten rooms with curious lit tle wings added to each corner. A kind of mansard roof, ventilated by two dormer windows, covers the main body of the house. The interior of the mansion was grand for the time and place, with its double parlors and heavily paneled and moulded doors and casement. A winding stairway leads up to the third story from the hall. The hall, which is very wide, is also of paneled wood, and this is relieved by a border of deeper shade and very graceful design. The third or upper story, with its low-roofed rooms and secret closets or cabinets, must be seen to be appreciated. Azalias abounded, and when blooming could thrust their bright faces into the very doors. In front of the mansion, and on every hand, magnolia

280

ETOWAI-I.

trees grew with tropical luxuriance, and from the live

hung festoons of gray moss reaching nearly to the groiHt|ll

Marigolds and touch-me-nots grew i.x profusion there,

flowers perfumed the balmy air.

!!!!!

To see it as it was at that time, j ust one year after the suit!

render of the Confederate armies, one would not think;!!!!

so ancient in spite of the manifest ravages of time, for it!!!

thick walls were perfectly preserved and it seemed fitted^!!!;:

stand for centuries to come. The term "ancient" must Mis

understood in the American sense, for it is rare to see a rests!!

dence in the States still habitable and occupied by the sajji&l;

family after the expiration of a century. That veneration!!

for antiquity which distinguishes the countries and peoples of;!

the old world and maintains the spirit of caste is almost ufirs!

known to us, but it is as admirable and necessary there as ^

is out of place and needless in the new world.

! : :::

In America, nature is the guide and " necessity the mother!

of invention." It was the poorer, albeit the bolder anS;;;;

stronger, of the aristocratic element which found its way to: :; ;

the Virginiasj the Carolinas and the Georgia of colonial days, :;

Their methods were crude, their appliances rude, their skill'-:;

imperfect, but by tradition, lineage and good breeding they ;;

transplanted in the wilderness of the new world, which opened !

before them limitless liberty, the thoughts, principles and ;

purposes which had made them distinguished in the old :

world and has perpetuated that distinction in the new.

Neither poverty, temptation nor adversity can keep them :

down, and every Southern State and every community where

they can be found demonstrate how they have attained and

maintained leadership. The annals of war in every battle

demonstrated it, and it was rare to find one of the scions of

an old colonial family in a boom-proof place during the war.

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ETOWAH..

281

HKfte close of the war demonstrated it, for honesty goes hand Iliia hand with valor in the character of the cavalier, and to a. itiiinan almost they were suddenly reduced from affluence to si; comparative poverty. They scorned to trade |on patriotism ;; i as they scorned the bribes of the conqueror. Few in numbers i:: in a,nj community, they moulded public opinion, and by :: : this public opinion kept in subjection the ignorant rabble and ;V .the recently emancipated slaves, with every town garrisoned : --often by negro troops under fanatical officers anxious to
enforce social equality between the races--they notified their - nominal rulers that so far they might go, but no farther with; out bloodshed! To the few political apostates who, for the
love of money, or thirst for power, or fear of punishment, basely joined hands with the enemy in seeking to fasten oppressive legislation upon the people, they opposed a powerful weapon--social ostracism. They scorned to light the signal fires of treachery on the hill-tops. Meanwhile, to the soldiers of the Federal army who had fought in the war against them, they tendered the courtesy due from one brave soldier to another. As free from cant as from hypocritical pretense of repentance as " rebels," they declared that they had done no wrong, and had no apologies to offer. Having thus surrendered, they meant to abide by the terms agreed upon like men, and to devote their energies to re-building their wasted fortunes. They had agreed to abandon forever the struggle for Confederate independence, although they had sacrificed the flower of their youth and their private fortunes to attain that independence. They had not agreed to humble themselves by distorting the noblest patriotism into wrong-doing, and their [self-respect would tolerate no personal humiliation. That personal sense of honor and self-respect they valued far more than the fortunes which

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ETOWAH.

they had lost, and it gave them, in their poverty, the

ing of men of birth and fortune.

";;

So that the group of gentlemen of whom we write might:

have been riding in the noblest parks in England, and they-:;

would have been instinctively recognized as gentlemen "to ;;;

the manner born."

:;

Back of the mansion, and down a bluff of eighty feet, was;:

the river, a wide and beautiful stream of the clearest water; ;

and there the pleasure-party, who this day enjoyed the fox ;;

hunt, the next day paired off to ca.tch the bream, which is :

the fish par excellence in those waters.

It needed but a passing glance at the occupants of one

b -at to see that " the lines had been cast in pleasant places"

for Henry Latane and Clara Leslie. With a careful negro

oarsman to guide one along the banks in the early morning, :

standing upright in the bow of the boat, with the bright

" bob " dancing in the waters, then to see the waters break

swiftly from the bank, and suddenly feel the delightful

plunges of a great trout, is rapture. But Henry Latane's

* rapture" was of another kind, more durable, if less trans

porting, and a veracious chronicler cannot say that he suc

ceeded in stringing a hundred pounds of the best fish that

day. The others did, and Colonel Barnum even exceeded

it. One had won that sweet consent from the object of his

affections which passeth all understanding; to the others

the goal seemed difficult--indeed, almost hopeless; but for

all that, he had determined to attain it. General Stewart

had neglected the opportunities afforded by the last few

months, not dreaming that there was a rival in his path.

Now, it dawned upon him that Barnum was in earnest, and

that his attentions were not displeasing to Julia, and as this

idea took possession of him his old love returned. He

::

ETOWAH.

283

tnought he had outgrown it, and pro ably he would never have known better had it not been for this meeting. His delicacy of feeling had prompted him not to visit her for weeks after her father's death, while the sympathy and earn est but refined attentions of Colonel Barnum during that trying period had won first her respect and then her confi dence, and now she was beginning to question the depth of the interest she felt in his coming and going. There was something singularly unselfish and noble in his character, fhe thought, or he would not have so constantly endeavored to anticipate her every wish with the most considerate courtesies. There was also a manliness about him that com manded respect from every one, and she felt for him a pro found respect. Circumstances made it proper that he should be a frequent visitor at the home of Colonel Leslie, whom he consulted upon all matters pertaining to the unavoidable differences which would arise occasionally between the citi zens and members of the regiment stationed at Etowah. It was owing to his efforts that the negro regiment had been removed and his own regiment ordered to Etowah, with him self as commandant.
A change had again followed, and he was now simply a guest, and absent from his command on leave, his regiment being now quartered in Washington City.
It seemed to Julia that if Bruton Stewart had ever loved her as Barnum evidently did, he would have given some evidence of it during this trying period. It seemed to him that it would be an inexcusable intrusion upon her sacred grief. In truth, he was not entirely satisfied that he did love her as devotedly as her prospective or affianced suitor should. The Julia Bearing whom he had loved was a bright,

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ETOWAH.

H:

dashing, nandsome girl, given to all the pleasures that vigor*; : ; ous youth, endowed with beauty and fortune, is heir to. .;;
Thus matters stood on the occasion of which we write, and in the house itself in which these friends were quar-: tered was the smiling face of the fine type of the Southern gentlewoman, Mrs. Latane. Culture of a rare order graced : this home at Chestatee, on the banks of the Etowah. On every side, from the school-room, where she daily recites to her governess, to the conservatory, and to the garden, be yond, appeared the life-giving touch of the sunbeam of the house, her only daughter, the child of her old age. Intelli gent, graceful, vivacious and gentle as good, she ennobled every presence, and one felt purer and better for having met her. Every sport in which young gentle-folks delight at country houses, except the formal parties and gay balls which had been in the yea1" agone the chiefest, these guests had in that delightful week. Not a household among all their acquaintances was there which did not have a vacant chair to remind them that " the bravest are the tenderest," and the noblest the soonest taken, and balls were relegated to the future.
After dinner, while the gentlemen still sat at the table over their coffee and cognac and cigars, the ladies having re tired to the parlors, Barnum remarked:
" Latane, I don't believe you people are poor; you don't look it, and you don't live like it, and for the life of me I don't see any difference in the manner of the negroes to their former masters now than when they were slaves."
" It is remarkable, I admit," replied Latane, " but you see ' hem only near our homes, where they are in almost daily contact with us. However, it would be more remarkable if it were not just as it is."

:

ETOWAH.

285

; "Why so?" said Lieutenant Grimes, another Federal officer, who had greatly befriended Latane during his im prisonment at Johnson's Island, on a certain critical occa sion, and who had finally accepted his invitation to visit him. "Answer for me Stewart," said Latanl. "Well," said Stewart, you mean that they don't know i-ow to be otherwise. They don't know Northern men except as strangers, and as our manner is as it was, their's is also." "That reminds me of old Zeke--our friend, Colonel Les lie's gardener," said Barnum, turning toward Latane. "In an interview I had with him he remarked to me, that nobody could be 'quality,' as he styled it, unless he owned negroes. That was said five years ago, when I was a prisoner on pa role, and Colonel Leslie's guest." "By George!" said DeLaunay, another young planter neigh bor, striking his hand upon the table to give his remark emphasis. "What a fool thing that cursed war was, Latan6! Here is Barnum, our "true-blue" friend, a guest here during that confounded war, and Grimes, over there, your benefac tor while you were in a Yankee prison." Latane's tact as a host was brought into play now, for his fiery young friend, DeLaunay, had at first hesitated about meeting "any infernal Yankee officers," and now, though .slightly in his cups, the truth dawned on him, that after ail they might have been animated by the best motives. These two were "capital fellows" any way, he declared. Latan4 interrupted him at this juncture by saying: "Delaunay, when are we going to have that deer hunt ? I wish to try my hounds. Suppose you send round to Banks and .the other fellows, wlxo own packs, and let us give Barnum

28(5

ETOWAH.

;i::

and Grimes an evidence that "there is life in the old land

yet."

:;;

''Good! the very idea!" replied DeLaunay. "Now, gen

tlemen, I have a big house, and not a soul in it except

myself and my house-keeper, and a few dogs, I'll admit.

You will be most welcome if you will accept a bachelor's

invitation, and take whiskey instead of curacoa and anisette--

drinks not fit for anybody but frog-eating Frenchmen to-

drink. I beg pardon, Latane, I don't mean to be rude, but

I don't believe you like those drinks any better than I do,

though I find them on your table every time I dine here."

And thus it was agreed that the next week should be a "stag

party," and a hunt for stags in the old-time jolly way.

.;.;.

CHAPTER XXVI.

;:

A GOVEKNESS.

; " He is a misanthrope, Miss Julia, and, like many minis, ters, would make life a perpetual penance and think that he ; was doing his duty. I fairly hate the word ' duty' when I
think how it is warped and twisted to suit the prejudices of sincere people, or the heartless designs of insincere agitators!"
"Suppose you were to resign, then, what would he do to undo your acts ?"
" I put you on your guard now when I reply: it is said the quickest way to give a statement to the public is to re late it confidentially to a woman. If you repeat what I say, you will hear of my being court-martialed and, perhaps, cashiered. But as nothing would give me so much happiness as to entrust my fate in your keeping I will continue. The result of my resignation would be a report to the War De partment that the negroes were oppressed by their former masters, and an earnest appeal for the return of colored troops to teach these people how to treat the colored people. The fellow was a preacher before the war, and wants to be assigned to the Freedmen's Bureau."
" I must thank you for your confidence, Colonel Barnum. Upon any other subject I would be loth to receive it, as I rarely bind myself to keep secrets, and have none to impart. As you have remarked, I was ' an arrant rebel,' if our pa triots were rebels; think our soldiers were the bravest in the world, and our cause as just as any man ever fought for."
" I will not express my opinions about that," he answered ;

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ETOWAH.

" they are not as Important as the welfare of those at to whom I owe my life. Nor am I ready to yie'd my convictions. It takes two to make a quarrel, and I lutely refuse to quarrel with you. It was my intention do quite the reverse, but you will not permit that."
" No, Colonel Barnum, I respect you too highly and li you too much to risk losing your friendship. Time wag;: when to have men tell me that I was pretty and admirable,: and so forth, flattered my vanity. That time is past, and 1 : hope you will not permit a temporary fancy to delude you: into thinking me a paragon."
''Yet I do think so," said he with an earnest seriousness; of tone and look which could not be misunderstood.
"Then I am sorry; I am infinitely worse than I use to be, and I was always considered a selfish, self-willed creature. Now I am more than that: suffering makes people worse, not better. But pardon me, let us change the subject; ego tism is not my forte."
" Miss Julia, your admission that you are not as happy as you were determines me to tell you more. I love you more than I do any one in the world, and in your unprotected state I feel justified in offering you the entire devotion of my life, and I assure you it will be ' a labor of love.' I can offer nothing else, for, as I have told you, I am dependent en tirely upon my efforts for a living."
" And so shall I be!" she said, as her clenched hands tight ened their grasp on each other. "I thank you, Colonel Bar num, thank you most gratefully for the honor which you have done me. No man on earth has a greater share of my esteem than yourself, but circumstances separate us. It can not be."
" He held the hand which she had extended to him in his

I;;;

ETOWAH.

289

eisHij and, though the strong man trembled from head to foot, imdid not seek to kiss it or to make any demonstration. With Invoice of constrained calmness he simply said: :"" Miss Julia, the sunset is very beautiful, but I do not feel 111 an appreciative mood to look at it. You will pardon me Ifhen I say what has been the light and hope of my life for Itnonths seems now like a dark cloud overhanging my future. llBut the dream is ended; reality is at hand, and I am made flof sterner stuff than to give outward semblance to my great sl<iisappointment. Work! fame! I will grasp them! Not for : ;feme's sake, for 'tis an empty bubble. I would not give one l::fiay of your love for all of a President's triumph; but ambifjiion is the only panacea for disappointed love." As he said ; ; ftis the veil which she had let fall upon her face was blown i:: aside a moment and he saw that she was in tears. I;; Barnum construed her rejection as based upon the fact of :;;ijis being a Federal officer. She construed his declaration : :::of love as being prompted more from sympathy than from ; love, and yet she knew if there was a man living whom &he I'could " love, honor and obey " it was Barnum. She felt, too, ; that he thought that he loved her, and yet she would not marry anyone unless she had first proved her independence of other people, so far as a support was concerned. " Suppose I were to marry him," she thought, " would not all the carping gossips of Etowah say that the proud Julia Dearing only married to keep from having to earn her own support? No, my mind is made up. I shall leave uncle's house and try to make my own living somewhere." After long reflection, she decided to go to New Orleans, and to keep her own secret. No one would suspect her in-

19

290

ETOWAH.

tention, and she would leave no clue concerning her

nation.

;

With Julia, to think was to act. That very night

packed all that she needed in one " Saratoga," and

mined to leave the next afternoon, or the morning thereafter!

Going to the bank early the next morning she drew $1|:|

money placed to her credit and returned to Thronateesisill:

Several hours remained before the time for the western trsisl

to leave, and Clara was absent making social visits. Thill

cab had been engaged to take her to the depot--the bagga|gf

had been sent already, and so quietly that the servants su|/f:;i

posed she was only sending the trunk to some safer place >fif

taking care of it. The cab was to meet her on the corner s|s

E and F streets at the appointed hour. Then she resolvsli

to visit her charity patients again. Before going out she is*;!

dited the following letter:

;:!!!

"My DEAR, GOOD, KIND UNCLE^Forgiveme for what lasts;

about to do. I can never repay you for your exceeding kirnJig

ness to me. To Clara, my more than sister, my heart goes!

out with all its tenderness. Pardon me for saying that :if!

you knew Captain Latane as I know him, you would intep;!

pose no objections to his attentions to Clara. I can sap;;

nothing better of him than this: he is worthy of Clara;!

Dear uncle, do not seek to find me; it will be useless. I ga!

to earn my own living, and will go far enough to evade youri!

efforts to find me. I cannot consent to be a pensioner upon;!

your bounty. I drew the money placed by you to my credit!

yesterday, and it will support me, I trust, until I can leartp'

to support myself. Your devotedly attached niece,

;;;

JULIA BEARING." !

This letter she placed in her pocket, intending to leave ip with the cab-driver to be placed in the post-office after her! departure. She was an unusually well-educated girl, Judge ;

ill;;;

ETOWAH.

291

ilJearing having spared nothing to provide her with the best Isldyantages. He had made her, from early childhood until |;;|is death, his chief companion, which in itself was a rare ll&ivantage, for he was esteemed one of the most learned men IIM'the State; hence her self-confidence now. ill; "The horse is ready, Miss Julia," said the maid. ;;S;; " Very well, Jane," she replied, gathering up her riding
lidrt.
;;;;:;;: As she mounted the horse the groom could not resist the ;;; inclination to compliment the remarkably handsome girl, ;;;';;; " Miss Julia, it does me good to see you in the saddle again; ;;;;j\6body can ride a side-saddle as you can." >;;; "Thank you, George; there is a dollar for you," she re:;;;|:lied. " I do not wish you to follow me." ;H; Now did the promenaders in the city of Etowah lift their IJiats and turn to look with undisguised admiration at theIsuperb horse-woman. She rode at a brisk trot, and soon en tered the factory village. The good people who were at their' iiomes came to their doors to welcome her with a glad smile ;-ss she passed. "These poor people have warm hearts," ; thought Julia, but if she had heard their expressions of "gratitude and good-will she would have felt amply repaid ; for all her efforts in their behalf. : " I say, Brown," said one rough son of toil, " I hope to ' God Miss Bearing's got her fortune back! She's a born lady, if there ever was one!"
" Yes," said Brown, " and the prettiest girl in all these
. parts." : " And the noblest and the best," said another.
Julia rode first to her old bed-ridden friend, Mrs. Higgins. "Here, Johnnie"--she spoke to little Johnnie Vincent, whom '; Mrs. Higgins, in spite of her poverty, had adopted after lain

292

ETOWAH.

;;;!

sistei's death--"here, Johnnie, hold the horse while I go is!!:

for a moment."

!!!!!:

" May I ride her up and down the street, Miss Julia?" :::!

"Not to-day, Johnnie; I never refused you before, but l)\:

am in a hurry to-day."

!!!

"God bless you, chile, and he will. It does my old eyes^i

good to see your pretty face."

:!

"Thank you, Mrs. Higgins; I havn't time to talk about!

myself to-day. How do you feel ?"

:

"Poorly, thank the Lord! poorly as usual; my jints are!!

.a most gin out, but I'll be all right a hundred years from !

,now."

!

" Yes, Mrs. Higgins, but I wish you to improve faster." As.!

she said this she handed the invalid twenty dollars.

!

"May the Lord be praised, chile! Got your fortin' back !

agin? If I thought so, 1 do b'lieve I could take up my bed !

and walk."

.!

" No; I am sorry to say I am still poor, but willing to do !

my part."

!

"Take it back, Miss Julia; you'll need it sooner'n you

think for; as folks what never had money afore git richer

they git harder and more selfish. Beautiful and lovely as

you are, you have committed the only onpardonable sin by

becomin' poor."

" You would give me more pain than any of my former

friends if you forced me to take this money back. 'Whom the

Lord loveth he chasteneth.' Don't you know that all of the

best people in the land are now poor, and only those who

kept out of the army and speculated upon the blood of the

brave are richer than they were ?"

"Certainly, I know it. Ain't Mr. Potts too highfalutin'

to live? We all know his father was a factory hand himself

!;>'.

ETOWAH.

293

vyhen he was a boy, and they try to hold their heads up :: above the real quality folks of the land, and despise us fac tory people," said the old woman indignantly.
"Yes; but they deceive no one, and no one cares about ;-:the airs they assume." ; " Glad they don't. I'm sure you oughtn't to. Why, there's ; Funk Pillberry; we all used to know him as 'Funk' when he kept the ice-house down at the corner. Now, they sayr he looks down on everybody except the Pottses, and is, next to them, the richest man in town. I don't object to poor folks gittin' rich--by-the-bj, Miss Julia, let me return your fine handkercher what you put on my poor old head jest as if I was as rich as Punk Pillberry," said the old woman, laughing--"as I was a-sayin', I don't object to poor folks gittin' rich--and I hope the Lord will make you marry a rale 'nob--but I do object to ther looking down on ther ekals!"
"Well, Mrs. Higgins, I see you are better, and I'll go now." But before leaving, she made the old woman tell her who was most needing money among the operatives.
The result of her visits among the poor was a repetition of her former lavish generosity, and her purse was,lessened two hundred dollars. "It is the last time," thought- Julia, "and I am determined to leave pleasant thoughts behind me somewhere, and for my part, I would rather the poor should feel kindly to me than the rich." It was later than she thought, and she had to gallop back in order to leave Thronateeska before the family returned from church. This she accomplished. Twenty dollars were paid to the servants at Thronateeska, to whom she told her intention at the last moment. Five trains left the city of Btowah at the same hour, and no one could know in what direction she had gone, as each train went in a different direction.

294

ETOWAH.

Finally the whistle blew, the trunk was checked,

young lady, closely veiled, whose handsome and distaii!

guished appearance attracted all eyes, entered the car. A dozefs|

gentlemen arose simultaneously and offered her their seas*!!

She selected one near a lady with two little girls, who usfclll

all their infantile arts to persuade the young lady toliL|||

her veil. Finally, she did so in such a manner as to keep i|l!

veiled to the rest of the car.

^::1

"Oh! mama," said the little girl, clasping her hands witijsf

delight, "she is such a pretty lady!"

::::|

Julia did not feel at liberty to raise her veil until the caraii

reached Montgomery. To her surprise the lady did not ds-iii:

scend from the cars there, but said she was going to her home!:

in New Orleans.

::;

"What a pleasant coincidence!" said Julia, "for that is:::

my destination also."

'' Indeed! I am very glad to hear it. New Orleans is my :

home, and to me there is no place like it. May I ask if you

are going to visit relatives there? Perhaps I know them," ;

said the lady.

" No, ma'am; I am going there to teach school, or get a

place as governess," said Julia.

" Ah!" said the lady, with a sympathetic glance, " I per

ceive that you are about to attempt a new role, for evidently

you are a Southern girl, and have had the best advantages."

" I do not care to go into the history of my life, and it

would hardly interest you if I did, but few girls were more

blessed than myself. That, however, is past, and is no rea

son, for moping and complaining now, since I am entirely

dependent upon my own exertions for a support."

" Isn't it terrible for you to think of such an undertaking,

my dear young lady ?"

ETOWAH.

295

p-t- "Oh, no; not at all terrible," replied Julia; "most people iifi&ave it to do, and I rather relish the idea of being depend;i: : <mt upon no one but myself." !:: The lady shrugged her shoulders in the expressive Creole fi-iashion and replied: ;' : "I don't understand it, I confess. I think the old South:;. em plan of raising girls in luxury, and never letting them K have a want which was not gratified, made them sweeter and ;:; more attached to home than any other system. I think : ; when Southern girls permit themselves to come in contact ;. with the world they will lose that gentleness and loveliness : which I think is their exclusive prerogative."
" Indeed!" said Julia, finding it difficult to control her feelings; " hut when one has no other alternative but to work or starve, what do you think one ought to do ? "
" Make your brothers work for you." " But I have no brothers." "Then your father ought to do it." " My father is dead," said Julia, unable longer to control her tears. " Oh, my dear, forgive me! I really don't know then what other course is left to you, but it is a terrible undertaking. Now, I know a strong-minded girl won't suit me; I don't believe in any woman's rights, except the right to be pretty, as you can, and make the other sex take care of us; but I'll make you an offer, if you are in earnest; you can act as gov erness for my little girls, and go direct to my house when we reach New Orleans." " Please do," said the little girls. " We'll just watch your pretty face and kiss you all day." " That would be very poor instruction, my little friends," said Julia, returning the kisses of the children. "Madam, I

296

ETOWAH.

cannot thank you too much, and will gladly

---on the condition, however, that I am not to be

concerning my past life, or the motives which prompted

to adopt this method of earning my own support."

" Very well, then; but I think a woman of my age mi

he an invaluable counsellor to a woman of your age; I

not advise unless I can question. Now, I make the further

condition that our arrangement shall last a year, if I choosa;

to bind you to it, and I shall have the privilege of discharg-;

ing you whenever I choose. Of course, you can leave at arty:

time if you are willing to forfeit your wages."

;::

"Your terms seem hard," said Julia in a freezing tone^i

"but there is no help for it, I suppose, and I accept them." :

" They are not hard," said the lady, " for you are entirely

unknown to me and may be an impostor for all I know.

Miss Scratch fooled me completely."

" I hate Miss Scratch !'f said the little girls; "she was ugly

and didn't have a sweet voice like"--

" Miss Dearing," interrupted Julia.

.

"Oh, what a pretty name for such a pretty lady," cried

one of the children.

Their mother, her object having been accomplished, had

now resumed her easy, comfortable position and was as com

pletely engrossed in a novel as if she had never heard of

Miss Dearing. All her familiar and affectionate allusions,

all her dimpled smiles and affectation of naivete, vanished as

soon as the beautiful young lady tourist was transformed

into a plain governess. Not so the effect upon the children:

they climbed in her lap and wound their arms around her

neck and said: "Your name is Miss Dearing; mine is Julia

LaG-range;" "and mine is Marie LaGrange, and mama's is

Mrs. LaGrange," chimed in the younger child.

HP:'-;

ETOWAH.

297

fp;::"You have pretty names, too," said Julia; "and if you ipjWpuld look pretty when you grow up you must learn to be Pijpnerous and sweet, and lovely in your disposition." IP "We are all that now, ain't we, mama," said the children, P appealing to Mrs. LaGrange. p: "What is it, my love ?" said their mother still reading and P' paying no attention to the little girls. |i "Oh, mama, put down your book and talk to the pretty ;> lady as you did before; we want to know if we aren't all ;? that now."
, "All what, my dears ?" "Pretty, and lovely, and sweet, and good." "Certainly you are; I hope, Miss Bearing, you have not
begun a catechism concerning the children's faults already." This was said in so unfeeling a manner that Julia replied
in her natural manner: "Mrs. LaGrange, if you have begun thus early to suspect me of utter incapacity to perform my duties, I think we may as well consider our engagement at an end."
As Julia said this, Mrs. LaGrange saw upon her finger two rings--diamonds of great value, which had been given her by her father--and her curiosity to know more of this dis tinguished looking stranger, as well as her better judgment, prevailed upon her to forego her desire for petty tyranny, and she replied in a gracious manner: " If I have done you injustice, I did not intend it; I was intensely interested in this novel and the children worried me; of course, I see that I was wrong now, and no one, you will find when you know me, is quicker to make amends than I am when I am in the wrong. Kemember that, children, as next to the golden rule."
Julia had thus received her first impressions of the art of

298

ETOWAH.

."iiiitf

making a living. She realized that her cherished indepeaMf <ence of thought, speech and action must be curbed. - ; ??;;;|
Mrs. LaGrange was but a type of a numerous class--a gooif sort of woman after you found her out, but " fussy," veryis: '" Fussy " women, though they " make much ado about notii-i ing," frequently have kind hearts, and Mrs. LaGrange was::::: one of these. Education, beyond "the three R's," she cofi-:-: sidered superfluous for women; but a knowledge of musis.::: at least sufficient to criticise the opera, was a sine qua nott^ Above all other things, Mrs. LaGrange prided herself on being;:; a Creole--i. e., she was born in New Orleans. Some Creole:;; ladies think of all people not born in the "Crescent City" ag? the Celestials do of those whose misfortune it is not to have;: -almond eyes and who were not born in the Flowery King--1 dom: that is to say, all people not Creoles should be classed;: .as " outside barbarians," who were especially blessed when i they were permitted the entree into the best Creole society in New Orleans.
Julia was not a Creole, and she was a governess, and a young woman who would be a "young lady" if she were not a governess. This was a new experience to Julia, who had been courted and caressed all her life. It would tax her strong
to be x>hilosophical now.

PS

::

CHAPTER XXVII.

;

THE TORCH-BEAKERS.

The influence of our venerable black friend, Uncle Bar;. 'ney, was rendered greater by the emancipation of his race.
.He was a large, fat, jolly-looking old negro, with a bald iead, a fringe of grizzled beard encircling his face, and a portly, well-fed look.
He had prospered greatly, for his conservative counsels made for him friends among all classes of the people. Though so short a time had passed since his emancipation, the owned the farm on which he lived, and it was cultivated by his congregation without any expense to him. As he .assessed every one of his thousands of followers one dollar per annum, his income was very great, for they considered ibis contribution to his support as a religious duty. He presided over many churches in the country, and had erected, with the salary given him, a large house of worship in Etowah. " Uncle Barney," though he drove now in the finest buggy in the county, with silver-mounted harness to match it, was so great an object of veneration among them that his word was accepted as their law and gospel. He ruled them with a firm, but kindly hand, and many wisely submitted to the "brushing" which he gave them, and thus escaped the hungry maw of the infamous "chain-gang.'' If a wife was unfaithful, or did not put her house and ef fects in order the Saturday afternoon, for which purpose the afternoon was given her in the days of' slavery, her tusband reported the fact to " Uncle Barney," who, on his

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next round of visits, called her forth and " brushed" hsp: with his buggy-whip. He looked like a bishop, and actecl:! like a monarch among these lowly people, over whom lie:! presided with a dignity and a gentleness that was admiral: ble. His converts were numbered by the hundred when-: | ever he announced that a "revival" was in progress; an! :: crowds assembled from town and country to witness the::: immersion of hundreds of the converts on these occasions-:; He gathered in the dollars promptly, because he asserted he;: was putting it to better use than they would, an assertion to : which all, both white and black, assented. If any one refused : to pay the assessment, he was promptly turned out of the : church. Meanwhile, "Uncle Barney" rigidly abstained from all political meetings, and urged his followers to do. likewise. He seemed to them to look into futurity, like the seers of old, but in spite of his influence and acknowledged authority, he could not repress the natural longing on the part of the newly-made voters to exercise the right of suf- ; frage and to attend political gatherings. Of one very im portant meeting, in their eyes at least, they were careful to keep him in igriorance.
In the depths of a forest near the city of Etowah was an open field, and this field was lighted by pine-knots placed, here and there, about the enclosure. Two hundred negromen and several white men, two of whom were masked, were there assembled at midnight to organize the first "Loyal League." The speaker who first commanded the attention of the motley groups was a Mr. Bogan, a " Green Grocer," as he styled himself, harmless as a man and quiet as a citi zen, whose earnest loyalty to the Union throughout the war had given him a prominence which nothing else could have done, and thus engendered a vanity which unscrupulous

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I men resolved to utilize. He had not an enemy in the world. ^-When the President would appoint a day of fasting and I: prayer, Mr. Bogan would close his little shop, gather his i; family and a few congenial spirits around him, and make it 5 & day of feasting instead of fasting. "When a day of thanks; giving was appointed for victories won by the Confederate : armies, he would close his shop, and, placing crape on the
door, would do all in his power to make it appear a day of ; mourning. People laughed at his vagaries and he did not : lose a customer on account of his intense loyalty to the cause
to which they were opposed almost as a unit. Mr. Bogan, thougn a native of Maine, had been living in the town of Etowah since his childhood, and in early life had been an alderman. Kind-hearted, generous and honest, his was a jovial nature, and his heart was prompt in response to ap peals to his charity. He would help the orphans and widows of Confederate soldiers while roundly abusing the government which slaughtered them, and he was the one man in the community who always spoke of the Confed erates as "Rebels." His remarks produced collisions between, strangers and his friends, all Confederate soldiers, but no one had ever heard of Mr. Bogan as a combatant or dis turber of the peace. He said nothing to promote discord or hatred between the races, because all such feelings were for eign to his heart. But he was an ignorant man, and uncon sciously became the tool to work the ends of the four men present. Two of these--George Washburn and John Hefflin--are known to the reader.
Mr. Bogan was requested by these two to address the audi ence. The lightwood knots, held by a negro attendant, sent a flickering light and added to the grotesqueness of his ro tund figure as his jolly face met the gaze of his attentive.

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listeners, who had never before been addressed in a public-, speech by a white man, except the preachers employed to preach to them by their masters.
When he began his speech by the usual words, "Fellowcitizens," Washburn and the other white men cried : "Hur rah ! that's the way to talk; niggers are citizens now and the ekals of anybody!"
This excited the negroes, who were ready to respond to Washburn's suggestions.
"Fellow-citizens! I had a turrible headache last night and couldn't make no preparations, and so I will have to address you externally. Fellow-citizens, when Columbus discov ered America, and landed on Plymouth Rock, he proclaimed all men ekal, disrespective of color (cries of 'hurrah/ and 'is dat so ?;) while at the same time Virginia put her foot on the neck of a nigger and exclaimed, lSic semper tyrannis /' But, my friends, before you shall be disrefranchised of your rights to vote in this land of liberty, the blood that coerces in the veins of four million of freed niggers shall coagulate on our country's soil!"
Sensation and gesticulation among the audience followed this eloquent flight. Mopping his forehead the orator con tinued : " Great is Dinah and the Ephesians, but greater still is the power of a full ballot and a free count.
"As an officer, as a postmaster under this galorious govern ment, I declare to you, we are all going to be better off than we have ever been before.
"I have a fine place in the hubbubs of the city, and I am going to live there like a king. Every American citizen is a king--a suvren. I have a fine mineral spring there, which contains fths hydrophobia and frds oxes gas; and I am going to improve the grounds by laying out a broad

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revenue from the spring to the house with turpentine walks on each side. I shall improve the house by adding a portorico and a mansion roof with a preservatory on top, and when the work is replete I shall retire from public affairs and lead a dysentery life. I intend to improve Etowah, too. I am going to de-grade the streets and walk them like a suvren. I invite you all to my next barbecue on next fourth of July. If it happens, though, that you can't come the first week we celebrate fourth of July, we will have another fourth of July the next Saturday. S< good-night, my colored fel low citizens."
Mr. Bogan then descended from the stand and was greeted with prolonged applause.
It would have been well had the speaking ceased with this good, but badly advised man's speech. But the real object of the leaders was now apparent, and Washburn's speech was full of cruelty and vile suggestions. He pictured to them all the horrors of slavery in its worst aspects, and ap pealed to their cupidity by telling them that the land was theirs rightfully, but unless they banded together as one man in a secret society, political in nature, they could never possess it, but their fate would be like that of the Indians, who had already been driven from the country which was rightfully theirs. As he spoke, his mastiff-like face assumed a, ferocity of expression which recalled to a few the cruelties which many of their race had suffered at his hands, but the mass was carried away by excitement and the occasion seemed ominous of evil, as he appealed to them to arm them selves and secure their rights by force.
Hefflin's address was entirely different, and appealed in cunning suggestions to their evil passions and to their fears. After assuring them that the black man was in all respects-

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the equal of his former master, he endeavored to them that the government would require payment to theiss for the years of labor already done, and would confiscate asijs;; property and give it to them if they would band together iit-;? secret "Loyal Leagues." " You need not procure fire-arms,'-;: he concluded, "but here is the weapon with which you can.;:; destroy, and kill, and ruin without danger to yourselves." As he said this he held before their excited gaze a blazing torch! The suggestion was greeted with yells of delight. ;
The third man to speak said he wore a mask for their ben efit only, as his presence, if known, would defeat all their purposes. His language led them to believe that he was a. young slaveholder, who desired to right the wrongs under : which they had so long labored, and with that purpose was ready to join their Leagues and administer to them the oath of allegiance thereto.
So well was he disguised that not one of them suspected that he was "Wellington Napoleon Potts.
The fourth man also wore a mask, and it was not until he threw off his long overcoat, and then his mask, that the negroes discovered that he was not a white man, but the long-absent and greatly admired Hallback. He was dressed in the uniform of a captain of cavalry, and he looked every inch the soldier.
He was greeted with a storm of applause and they seized him and bore him upon their shoulders. But before he begun his speech there was a commotion among the negroes, their ranks parted, the burly form of "Uncle Barney" ascended the stand, and he stood before them and faced them with the dignity of a king.
Bowing to Hallback, he said--"My son, I beg your pardon, and you my friends--I have but a few more years to live,

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1 ijaid I say what I do now with regret, but with no fear of any fl'l:mortal man; if you do not wish to hear me speak; I will be |Vgilent, and never again will I raise my feeble voice to help :; and counsel with you." He paused, but the crowd cried: : "G-o on, Uncle Barney, go on !" when Washburn, with fero;-: cious look, ordered him to get down and cease. The look and voice was that of a brutal overseer, and this time Wash: burn overshot the mark, for Hallback stepped forward and .i said: : "You shall not interrupt him," but his voice was arrested ;: as the old man placed his hand upon his shoulder and gently
moved him aside. Folding his arms across his breast, he looked Washburn in the eye and said, with a voice clear and loud, but marvelously tranquil, "Are you my master ?" To this question there was no response, and the old man con tinued : "My friends, you and I have been slaves all our lives, but none of us were ever spoken to in that rough way by our masters. He tells us that he is our best friend, and that we are free, and urges upon us to assert our rights, andiicites us to murderous thoughts. My good friends, remember George Standback! There stands his murderer!"
There was a flash, a pistol report, and the old hero tottered and fell in thearms ofHallback, shot by the murderer of his nephew! The excitement was so great, the forest so near, the night so dark, that the assassin escaped, and confusioa reigned.
But the seeds sown of that eventful night found a lodge ment in a soil which bore fruit, but the day of reckoning had not yet come for Mr. Washburn.
With him fled his masked associate, and the meeting adjourned as a political meeting, and resolved itself into a
20

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;;:

mourning body of weeping men as they gathered around f

dying martyr.

;;

The gentle-hearted Mr. Bogan, with tears, aided Halites:

to make him comfortable, pulling off his coat, despite tlisf

night air, and placing it under the dying man's head. He

lin went to and fro pledging himself to procure the arrests

and punishment of the murderer. The dying preacher par

tially raised himself, and, in a voice that seemed superhu

man, bade them all farewell, and gave them his blessing,;:

mingled with words of peace and love.

.--'M

The grief of Hallback at the sudden death of his staunc^f

old friend was too great at first to permit him to pursue tM--^

fugitive, and finally, as the limbs became rigid, and he gave":l

orders for making a litter to bear the body of his aged friemO

home, he was heard to say in muttered .undertone:

.;

"He shall die for this!" As he spoke he perceived at his ::

side the sinister, but fearless face of John Hefflin, who added;;;

" Yes; he deserves to die the death."

;:

A look of disgust and contempt was the only answer Hall* ;

back gave, for he instinctively felt that this was an appeal.;

for protection, as the angry negroes were ready to revenge

the death of faithful old Barney, who had been their trusted

counselor all their lives, by slaying Hefflin. Escape was

impossible, for he was completely surprised at the unex-

pected murder. A word from Hallback meant life or death

to Hefflin, but there was that in his eyes which said plainly;

"1 will sell my life dearly; I will never surrender alive."

Reflecting a moment, Hallback said to him, pointing to the

path in the forest which led to Etowah:

" There is your path, follow your accomplices; this is ours:

leave us alone with our dead." Hefflin hesitated, and the

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307

|;-i young man, losing patience, said to him: " Did you not hear | me? Go!" s: Without a word in response Hefflin turned, and with a sulH: len look of defiance entered the forest and disappeared. S; Slowly the cortege, lighted by half a hundred pine torches, :s made their way to the plantation, with no secrecy in their ;;;; movements, until they reached the humble home of "Uncle is: Barney," and there deposited his body. :;:: A thousand people mourned his loss as that of a relative, ;;;: and the white citizens of Etowah, which was now garrisoned t. by a negro regiment, felt that their most conservative mm ;' had fallen. :;' Assassination had proved their most terrible foe. First, in !; the death of the great-hearted Abraham Lincoln, who felt to
all mankind that lofty charity, epitomized by the expression,. ; : "With malice to none, and charity for all;" and now by the : ; death of this simple-hearted old hero, whose black skin made ;':'- him none the less nature's nobleman. Could he have lived,, ;-:.: many of the incidents that are narrated in succeeding chap;;; ters might not have happened. Could Lincoln have lived : to have "rounded out" the great work of his life, the South : might have been spared the odious tyrannies of " reconstruc. tion" which destroyed that peace and prosperity which
seemed to have so rapidly followed war. The world honors the memory of Lincoln, and in bronze and in marble will his memory be perpetuated by an appreciative people ; but none the less heroic, none the less magnanimous in his lim ited sphere, was the unlettered, gentle-hearted leader of his. people, "Uncle Barney."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

If!

GOD'S ACEE.

:;;!

"No more shall the war cry-sever,

is

Or the winding rivers be red;

;';;:;

They banish our anger forever,

;;;:;

When they laurel the graves of our dead

,::H

Under the sod and the dew,

::;i

Waiting the judgment day;

.-;;;;

Under the blossoms, the blue;

,,;';;

Under the garlands, the gray."

; :::

The beautiful custom of decorating the graves of the Con-;!;:

federate and Federal dead originated in the town of Etowak;; ;

on the anniversary of its fall.

' )

Owing to the absence of Julia Bearing, the wedding cere-::

mony, which had united Henry Latane to Clara Leslie a::;

month before, was very quiet, only the members of the tW6: ;

families being present, with Colonel Barnum as "best man.?: ::

The whole populace seemed en route to the cemetery on;;

" Decoration Day," and every garden in the city contributed;:

flowers to decorate the graves. Henry Latane was the orator::

selected, and he reluctantly consented to deliver the address,:::

After the opening prayer a chorus of voices sang " The;:

Conquered Banner:" .

;;

" Furl that banner, for 'tis weary,

::

Bound its staff 'tis drooping, dreary,

:;

Furl it, fold it, it is best;

.

': \ :-

For there's not a man to wave it,

And there's not a soul to save it,



And there's not one left to lave it

,.,;

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3Q9

::: :

In the blood that heroes gave it,

:: :;

Fur it, hide it, let it rest!

:

Furl that banner softly, slowly,

:"':

Treat it gently, it is holy,

::

For it droops above the dead;



Touch it not, unfurl it never,

Let it droop there furled forever!"

; After a few preliminary remarks gracefully spoken, the orator of the occasion said:
"The conquered banner lies folded away in the memories . of those who ventured all to sustain it. It has the calm veneration of many thousands of brave men, but it is furled : forever, and the once Confederates have accepted the old flag again. Prance, after the greatest successes in history, . submitted to overwhelming force; so did the Confederacy.,. : The bete noire of the old Union exists no longer. The once slave has become a citizen whose rights are respected, despite the wild can tings of the shriekers to the contrary.
" 'Lord of himself, that heritage of woe,' he has the proud privilege of the white man, his former owner and'master, of working out his own destiny. If left to those who un derstand the peculiarities of his character, he will have a future of comparative ease, and will work out that future with the kindly sympathy of the children of those wtose families were left so completely to his fidelity and known attachment while the owner and master was in the ranks at the front.
"In this connection I will quote from a recent opponent, the occasion being the dedication of a soldiers' monument in a Northern city. Every true Confederate soldier will en dorse it, as I do:' I once, entered a house in old Massachusetts,

ssi

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where over its doors were two crossed swords. One

sword carried by the grand-father of its owner on the field::;;;:

of Bunker Hill, and the other was the sword carried by the::!

English grand-sire of the wife on the same field and on tfa&??J

other side of the conflict. Under those crossed swords, iuiii

the restored harmony of domestic peace, lived a happy apidi'sl

contented and free family under the light of our republican;;3

liberties.

;;;!

"' I trust the time is not far distant when, under the:';;?

crossed swords and the locked shields of Americans, North;;?-;

and South, our people shall sleep in peace and rise in liberty,;;;

love and harmony under the Union as our forefathers::;

made it.'

;;:

"And yet we would be craven indeed did we not glory is

the achievements 01 the soldiers of the ' Lost Cause.'

" It may be for the best that we failed to establish our in-.;;

dependence, but let us never dishonor the loyal patriotism :

to their States of the soldiers of the Confederacy. Teach

that to your children that they were neither rebels nor

traitors, but martyred patriots of a just and righteous;:

eaiase--the grand cause of "constitutional liberty." (Cheers

greeted the orator's words at this sentence, and several min

utes elapsed before he could resume.) " My comrades being

in thorough accord with me in this sentiment, I feel author

ized to say for them, that having accepted the results of the :

war in the utmost good faith, their sacred honor is thereby

pledged to the support of the Government of the United

States, without any mental reservation or evasion whatso

ever, and should occasion require, they would cheerfully re

sume their arms in its defence against any foreign or do

mestic foe. But we respectfully decline to change our nature

and assume a character not our own; to act the spaniel that

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311

: fawns upon and kisses the hand that smites him; and so : far as I am concerned, I will never, so help me God, bow y down to a golden calf bespangled with the alluring name of : 'the new South.' (Cheers.) :" "Appomattox! what memories cluster around the name! The ten thousand veterans, with their bullet-scarred flags, /were as eager to meet in mortal combat the fifty thousand troops that immediately confronted them on that bright April day, with a half million more troops behind them, as at any time during the four years of war when their ban ner had been a ' piliar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.' They deemed General Lee invincible, and in their hearts they echoed the cry of the ' Old Guard' at Waterloo: ' The Old Guard dies, but never- surrenders!'
" But they had never disobeyed Lee. " General Lee now ordered them to lay down their arms! Then, in a moment, quick as the dread throes of an earth quake, which destroys in one minute the work of thousand of people for a century, in a moment that command con vinced those whom four years of the hardest fought battles could not convince, that the cause for which they had thus battled was lost. " If it was lost, all seemed lost! " So seemed it to the despairing disciples in the dark days which succeeded the crucifixion--that hope had been buried forever in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. " 'We trusted,' said they, as they walked to Emmaus, 'that it had been He who should have redeemed Israel.' And little did they dream that at that instant the risen Saviour walked by their side to redeem, not only Israel, but the
orld "So with the character of Lee--it will not die. When Titus,

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then at the head of his Roman legions, broke down the walls of the Holy City, and ran his plowshare over the site ';.;.; of King Solomon's temple; or later, when Cortez overthrew the Aztec idols in the temple of Montezuma's capital, it seemed to bury out of sight the faith, the hopes and the as pirations of these peoples.
"And when Rome bowed before the conquering hordes of Hun and Vandal, led on by the ruthless and savage Attilla, who swept over all the countries from the Euxine to the Adri atic, the flame of invasion, ' The March to the Sea,' it seemed that the sun of civilization had gone down forever in a sea of blood! And yet out of these desolations have sprung purer forms of religious worship and higher types of civilization.
"For eighty years the South gave to the Government of the United States its ablest generals, its wisest statesmen, its most learned jurists.
"At the second Centennial it may appear that the conserv ative South will be the anchor of the Nation and preserve it from centralized power. When Greece was invaded by Xerxes, the Athenians in their extremity recalled Aristides, from the banishment into which they had forced him, and placed him at the head of their armies. In the magnanim ity of his nature he forgave the wrongs his country had done him, threw himself into the breach, and upon the plains of Salamis and Platea, rescued the liberties of his country and expelled the invader from her soil.
"Appomattox! out of the tomb of our buried hopes will spring the germ of truth which seemed crushed forever when that brave little army laid down its arms, and the magnani mous victor pronounced them ' Overcome, but not con quered !' Appomattox! the tree of American liberty will vet grow into proportions it never would have attained but

ETOWAH.

B13

for the blood and the tears with which a devoted people : watered it. The gallant deeds of the American soldier,
South and North, are a common heritage of all Americans.
"Stoop angels, hither from the skies; There is no holier spot of ground Than where defeated valor lies; Embalmed in love, by children crowned."
As the speaker ceased, the graves of the Confederate dead were decorated. Poor factory operatives, walking amid the richest people in the town, brought their garlands of flowers to decorate the graves of the dead soldiers. Little children dressed in white, side-by-side with the aged, scattered their floral tributes promiscuously over the graves of the " Un known Dead," in the soldier's corner. On the oaken head boards were simply inscribed the names of the dead and on the battle-fields where they ,nad been killed. Two graves in a private lot were made prominent by two white shafts of Carrara marble. Upon one was inscribed the name of Pri vate Charles Lataiie; the other bore the name of Lieutenant Charles Vincent.
The patrician was a private soldier; the plebeian a lieu tenant. Naar by was the monument which marked the last resting place of Hugh Leslie. As the children sang, "Holy Mother, Guide his Footsteps "--as if it was done by design-- a travel-stained figure could be seen entering the cemetery and approaching the group where stood Mr. and Mrs. Henry Latan6 and Colonel Leslie. The old negro wore a faded Fed eral army coat with brass buttons, a white beaver hat, and pantaloons of many colors and manv patches. Over his shoulder was borne upon a stick a bundle containing cloth ing, and the white wool beneath the hat made the latter

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:

appear darker than it was. So earnest and intent on reach-;

ing the group in time was be that he raised the dust before ;|

him, as he shuffled along as rapidly as his aged limbs would :;;i

bear him. At last he reached them and, taking off his hat'^

and leaning on his stick, scraping the ground with one foot i

as he bowed low, the old darkey said :

;

"Howdy, Marster; howdy, Mars Harry; howdy, young

Mistiss; I like to not got here in time. How does you all do?"

Henry Latane, who had been talking to some friends and .

had his back to the old negro, turned, extended his hand,

and said :

'Clara, this is Uncle Zeke."

Clara went,to the old man and shook hands with him in

stantly, and said :

"Uncle Zeke, I am so glad to see you; how is Hezekiah ?

and how is your farm doing? and how are you?"

" Poorly, Miss Cally, poorly, thank de Lord! but middlin'

well considerin of de pain in my jints from de rheumatiz.

De farm, what your pa gin me, and de stock and de crap, all

is doin' well as I could want em to. As fur Hez, he never

was no other way but well."

Then old Zeke looked around the vast assemblage and

nodded to several, but spoke to none except his " young

marster and young mistiss," as he called Henry and Clara.

Turning to Clara again, he said: "Scatterin' of flowers over

de graves?" This last remark was accompanied by an incli

nation of the head toward a group who were decorating the

graves at the "Soldiers' Corner."

" Yes, Uncle Zeke; don't you wish to help us ?"

" Miss Cally, I does; dat is my business here to-day. I

dug de graves of Mars Hugh and Charlie Latane', and I would

like to scatter some flowers on ; em. Flowers makes de pur-

ETOWAH.

315

tiest kyarpet in de world, Mars Harry, and Charlie was de kindest-hearted boy--'ceptin tis Mars Hugh--dat ole Zeke ever seed!" Here the old negro brushed away the tears with his coat sleeve, and Clara, her own eyes filled with tears, of fered him all the flowers she had.
It was a touching scene when this faithful old slave, the only negro in all that assemblage, many of whom grasped his hand and spoke to him kindly, proposed to decorate Hugh Leslie's grave.
"Mars Harry, de ' Union League' has forbid all us nig gers from helpin' Dimmycrats, but dese two boys, toarftJ Diramycrats. And, Mars Harry, if Hugh and Charlie wus Dimmycrats, I'd do it anyhow! and I am as good a Republikin as any on 'em, so fur as dis life is consarned; I'll be blamed fur it I know, but I'd do it if dey killed me !"
Then the old negro, taking the flowers from Clara's basket, knelt beside the grave of the gallant youth--the son of his former master--and arranged the flowers in the form of a cross upon the tomb over his head.
He seemed oblivious of all the people who crowded around Mm to witness this unusual scene, and, clasping his hands before his face and looking upward with pious zeal, he ut tered a prayer in the negro dialect, so fervent and sincere in its appeals to God in behalf of the dead hero, that men in voluntarily took off their hats and women wept.
For pathos and earnestness this scene cannot be excelled, and long after this "pattern of old Fidelity" shall himself be laid away in his grave, he will be remembered with grateful respect by all who witnessed it.

CHAPTER XXIX.
"MY SON, EMILE."
Now came the test which, proved beyond a doubt Barnum's love for Julia Bearing was deep, sincere and influenced by any interested motive other than that l which most honors humanity. He was poor, and his record was second to none of the same rank in the armies oriithe Union. Every hope of promotion, either in civil or po^V: litical life, every prudent reason bade him attend strictly ta : his official duties and avoid the expression of any interest in passing events which "cast their shadows before."
If Barnum evinced any interest at all in the policy out lined by the reconstruction acts, every politic thought would have urged him to espouse the side of proscription and join the Radical hosts which seem bent on sowing the seeds of insurrection and discontent, and which promised to bring about bloody collisions between the races at the South.
But Barnum flung prudence to the winds, obtained a leave of absence--the first he had asked for in years--and, instead of going home to see the loved ones there, departed for New Orleans in search of the high-spirited girl whom he now knew that he loved with all the passion and all the earnestness of his nature. He informed Colonel Leslie of his purpose in an open, manly way that won that gentleman's confidence entirely. Pressing his hand warmly he could only say: "God bless and God-speed you, Colonel Barnum! I know of no man whom I would rather see the guardian of her happiness."

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317

f:: Bruton Stewart had taken it as a settled fact that Julia iiwasthejfamcee of Colonel Barnum, and, in spite of his efforts !;; to appear unconcerned, his studied courtesy seemed to her I;;'.coldly formal, and she ceased to regard him as other than a It casual friend. But now that he had learned of her departii'ure and the circumstances attending it, his manly sense of i: loyalty re-asserted itself, and he, too, called upon Colonel ;. Leslie and announced that his purpose was to offer his hand
in marriage. "Colonel Leslie," said he, "she is the loveliest and most superb woman I ever knew. I thought I had : conquered this old boyish fancy of mine--for I have dreamed about her for ten years--but when I saw that this con founded stranger, Colonel Barnum, was seeking to win her, I learned that I could not banish my hopes."
"Have you told Julia this, General?" "No, sir; I have not said a word of love to her in fotir years." "Then, my friend, I think your course has lost your chan ces. Festina lente won't do in courtship. If a man wants to win a woman's love, he must avow his love and loyally seek to win hers. It is a matter of conquest, not pleading, in my judgment; candor must be my excuse for plain speaking." "Pardon me; I see that I have made myself ridiculous, but permit me to ask : Is Miss Bearing engaged to any one ?" "Not that I am aware of,' replied her guardian. "In truth, I have no idea where she is at present, but I appreci ate your feelings in the matter, and if Colonel Barnum does not succeed, I hope that you may." "Then you would approve of her union with Colonel Barnum ?" Colonel Leslie's haughtiness returned to him as he answer

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ETOWAH.

if

ed: "General Stewart, I think you forget that that is a. il question which you have no right to ask. But I will saj:i3 that there is no man living for whom I entertain a greatest1 respect than for Colonel Barnum. He is one of nature's i;i noblemen."
Stewart's nobler instincts came to his aid now as he said, "Forgive me, Colonel Leslie; I do not mean to be rudely inquisitive. I realize my shortcomings and the folly that my pride has proved. I did not imagine, until very recent ly, that any one was aspiring to win her. Now that I am informed, I must, in justice to myself, echo your remark, there is no man living more worthy of our respect and confidence than Colonel Barnum."
They shook hands warmly and thus Stewart abandoned the search.
It was the loyalty of the gentleman, not the ardor of the lover, which prompted Bruton Stewart to make this avowal. It was the ardor of the lover which led Barnum irresistibly to New Orleans.
A week and another week had elapsed since Colonel Barnum's arrival in New Orleans. Not a day, not an hour had been wasted, and yet he could find no clue to Julia Bearing's retreat. Finally a friend suggested to him to call upon the
pastors of the various Episcopal churches in the city and inquire if she was a communicant or member of their con gregations. Ordinarily he would have laughed at the idea as impracticable; for it was not to be supposed that in a great city like New Orleans, a new comer would be noticed. But Julia was not an ordinary person, and her great beauty and distinguished bearing had attracted the attention, of the reverend gentleman who presided at the church where Mrs. LaGrange worshipped. The pastor had noticed a strikingly

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ETOWAH.

319

: handsome girl who seemed to be the governess of two chil dren for pastors, like other people, are not insensible to beauty. But who she was, or whence she came, he had not ::. yet found out.
"Stay," he remarked to Colonel Barnum; "I remember . now, she occupies the pew of Mrs. LaG-range."
Barnum attended service at the church the next day and occupied a place in the gallery whence he could survey nearly all the church without attracting attention himself. The bishop of the diocese preached that day and the church was crowded. He did not have long to wait;'he would have known that figure umong ten thousand, and a flood of conflicting emotions rushed upon him as the modest but stately girl, with the air of an empress, walked up the aisle, preceded by two little girls. Then, adapting herself to the situation, they entered a pew as naturally as if this relation was not a new one for Julia to assume. Presently a corpu lent, fussy-looking lady entered the pew just behind them, and after much ado about nothing, succeeded in seating herself to her satisfaction. Then followed a vigilant war with her fan, *for t*he weather was intensely warm and seemed hotter around this fat lady than anywhere else. From his elevated seat he could see the myriad fans doing incessant duty throughout the church, and, as his eyes returned to Mrs. LaGrange, he observed that no one seemed so zealous and untiring as herself.
The calm, quiet, listening interest which Julia evinced in the interesting sermon was in striking contrast to the inter minable "fluster" of Mrs. LaGrange. Julia had measured her at a glance, and allowed her to have "all the ills flesh is heir to," to her heart's content, although no woman in the Crescent City gave better evidence than Mrs. LaG-range of

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.-;

exuberant health. She had lost more children than most : women, have, and yet she considered herself the only i: woman on earth who knew how to raise healthy children. ;
The enormous degree of piety which she endeavored to : instill in their young minds, by precept rather than exam ple, interfered with their pleasures somewhat and with their digestion more.
No one, however, could excel Mrs. LaGrange in prating :about "the selfishness of this sinful world !" And St. An thony's experiences in resisting temptation were trivial in comparison with her accomplishments in that respect if she was competent authority. Then, again, if a draft was dangerous to the health of her children, the absence of a plentiful supply of air was, she averred, suffocation to her. Hence the children were consigned to the room of their .-governess at night. Altogether, therefore, without knowing any of these facts, Barnum surmised that Miss Dealing had .selected anything but a bed of roses, and doubtless had a very lively time of it.
If Mrs. LaGrange did not attend Sunday-school with her "dear darlings," the governess was required by written instruc tions to observe scrupulous attention to these "absolutely essential spiritual duties." Now appeared on the scene Julia's bete-noire, a dainty, small, perfumed, young Creole gentleman, Monsieur LaGrange. Emile LaGrange was his mother's darling, and was madly in love with Julia Bearing.
"My son," she said to him when he announced his inten tion of mating the pretty governess his wife, "it will break my heart if you disgrace the family by marrying a governess."
"Well, mother," replied the effeminate youth, "it will break my heart if I don't. The question resolves itself

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|: Into this: which heart shall I break, yours or mine? and, :: in this connection, I will repeat your favorite maxim, 'chari ity begins at home.' The upshot of this dialogue, which : : took place the second week after Julia's arrival and instal: lation as governess in this proud Creole family, was that the ,: dainty little gentleman was brought home that evening from : the club gloriously intoxicated. When he recovered the ; next day and his anxious mother entered his chamber,
he said to her in a reproachful tone: "Told you so, mother!" Then Mrs. LaGrange kissed him, and took refuge in the for tress of tears, thence to her novel, "Le Roman d'un Jeune Homme," and Monsieur Emile was victorious as usual. Since he served as a harmless diversion to Julia, she tolerated his admiration as something entirely new in her varied experi ence. It was the blind idolatry of an ignoramus, whose sole redeeming trait was an exceedingly amiable heart.
This was the status of affairs when Barnum arrived in New Orleans, and he imagined much of it as he viewed the party from the gallery of the church. The beautiful and impressive service of the Episcopal confirmation was finished, the magnificent organ pealed the sacred notes, the voices of the well-trained choir filled the vast church with melody, and the crowded throng prepared to make their exit.
In vain did Barnum endeavor to attract Julia Bearing's attention. With a manner as demure as if this was her nat ural place and station in life, she led the children forth, and before Barnum had reached the street the family entered their carriage and disappeared. He lingered until the last person had left the church, and slowly wended his way back to the St. Charles as much at a loss as to her place of residence as before. But he had seen her once again, and to

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his noble heart she was infinitely dearer in this

ing position of thankless toil than she had ever been

He had hardly reached tht, St. Charles hotel when the ^ I

clerk handed him the following telegram :

;:|

" Colonel Barnum, U. S. A., St. Charles Hotel, N. 0.

-|

"Captain Latane' and twelve others have been arrested and :

imprisoned in Fort Pulaski, charged with the assassination

of George Washburn. Return and endeavor to save their

lives. It is unnecessary to tell you that they are innocent, but :-5

it is feared that suborned testimony will be used against s

them.

HUGH LESLIE."

Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, Colonel Barnum could : not have been more startled. The situation admitted of \ no delay. He left by the next train, but before leaving penned the following note to Julia, and addressed it to the care of the pastor of the church which she attended :
" Miss JULIA DEARING--=1 came to New Orleans to see you. Just as I had learned which church you attended, and before I could learn your address, I received a telegram, which forces me to return at once to Etowah. I need not tell you what a grievous disappointment this is to me, or allude to the object of my mission here.
"I hope to return again soon, and trust that my next effort may meet with better success.
''Respectfully your friend, "CHARLES BARNUM."
" I will not grieve her by further information," said he to himself.
" Miss Julia," said the amiable young simpleton, Emile LaGrange, one evening, after he had been rejected for, per haps, the twentieth time, "you almost make me lose faith in

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Inconstancy; until I knew you I thought such devotion as Ii mine would win the love of any woman." I " Indeed! what gave you such a poor opinion of women, I! -or such a high opinion of the constancy of man's affections? !?: I think ' unstable as water' is the best description of man:;:: kind generally." ;i;- "And you might add, while you are quoting Scripture," ii: said he petulantly, " ' that all is vanity' is the best descrip;: tion of women." J " That's the nicest speech I ever heard you utter; now, if I were not a poor governess, and you were not silly enough. : to imagine yourself in love with me, I would tell you that
the greatest charm of a woman in the eyes of men is that same thing yclept vanity. It is the duty of every woman to be as pretty as she can be."
" Well, you perform your duty in that respect gloriously well," said the infatuated youth.
" Yes, I know I am pretty, just as I know you are not handsome."
" You are very unkind; why do you dislike rne so ? " he asked. "How can a man be handsome? I try my best to be."
"I do not dislike you. If you wish a candid answer, I will say that I think the first and most indispensable requisite to a handsome man is manliness. A manly look can only proceed from a manly heart. Courage and inde pendent spirit can't be coined to order. Mirabeau is said to have been an extremely homely man, but when his counte nance was lighted up with the fire of courage and genius, his very manliness made him singularly handsome."
"It takes a good physique to make a man look handsome,"

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ETOWAH.

: ;!!l;;

said LaG-range, twirling his feeble moustache, "and you ill

can't make a good physique to order."

.!:!.!|

"On the contrary," she replied> "the greatest men of hiss!! I

tory were small men physically. The Emperor Napoleon;;!!;;;

was called the ' Little Corporal' because of his small stafru.ref ;;;;!

but no man has occupied as large a niche in the temple of:;;;

.fame as he. But to be great one must first be manly." .i;;

" Do you think a man who has never worried with those;;;

.abstruse or abstract questions, can make up his mind to be !

manly?" asked LaGrange.

;

" If he has courage, yes; without courage, no. Neither a ;

<man nor a woman can know his or her resources until the ;

heavy hand of poverty has placed them in situations where

"they must conquer or be conquered."

" That remark, and your style generally, persuade me of

what I have suspected before, that you have not always been

poor. For my part, I can't understand how you prefer pov

erty and the hard lot of a governess to ample wealth and a

life of ease and comfort such as I am prepared and more than

willing to give you if you will marry me."

'' Mr. LaGrange, you will persuade me of what I have

suspected before, that you are very far from being manly if

you ever repeat such language to me again. My life, past

and future, is my own secret, and it is ungenerous, if not

unmanly, to offer such inducements to me in such language.

If you would not cut short our acquaintance you will not

allude to your imaginary fancy for me in such penurious

terms again."

" Forgive me, Miss Julia; say anything but that. You

can make me do what you please: either to assume courage.,

.and what you call' manliness,' or you can consign me to the

s-M'

ETOWAH.

325

i; gutter. I intend to win your love or end my own by the j: old plan." : "Hush, Mr. LaGrange; it is folly, it is madness, for you
to express yourself so rashly! If you value my friendship -- :':' and you have that, for you are always kind and usually re: spectful to me --you will quit the unmanly habit of getting : intoxicated. If you are courageous enough to defy public
opinion, you ought to be manly enough to spare your mother misery when she sees you in that silly, maudlin state. I never could understand how men could be such cowards as to/allow disappointment or failure to persuade them to de scend to the level of the brute creation.";
" Oh, mother isn't miserable about it! If you only would get miserable about me I'd quit it. I'd be as manly as any body, and work or fight, or quit playing cards and billiards, or staying out late at night, or do anything. But it's no use; you don't care a chew of tobacco whether I go to the devil or not, and I don't, either--so good-night!" And the youth went out in the street, banging the front door as he left the house.
It was already eleven o'clock, and Emile LaGrange had taken more than one -drink of whisky already. Julia, with a look of pity and sympathy, watched him as he left the house, and thought for a long time over the checkered expe riences of the past few months of her life. She began to realize thatfbeauty was one of the most fatal obstacles to happiness^ and yet she would not be woman did she not prize it above all the other gifts with which nature had lavishly endowed
her. " There is no unalloyed happiness in this life," she thought.
"Women daily sell themselves to such lucky nincompoops as Emile LaGrange, and think more of the elegantly attired

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ETOWAH.

!:|

society slave than of a heroine who works to ward off tkatii:

worst of fates--dependent poverty. Doubtless Mrs. LaGrange::

married a man like Wellington Napoleon Potts, a Croesus in.!

wealth, but a pauper in soul--a man of whom it is said, ' He-:

lends like a prince and collects like a Shylock.' Bather::

would I live in poverty and die in obscurity than wear the ; :

livery of such pinchbeck aristocracy. No; I will never::

marry."

::

The next day about noon the maid came into the library, :

where Julia was in the habit of teaching her little pupils, ;

and informed her that Mrs. LaGrange desired to see her pri

vately and at once.

" You can have holiday the rest of the day, children, but

don't go on the street; the street is not the proper place for

little girls to play. I will take you out to the park this af

ternoon.''

"Come," said Mrs. LaGrange as Julia knocked at her

door. "Pray be seated, Miss Bearing, and place your chair

close to mine; I want to speak to you confidentially." Julia

complied, and Mrs. LaGrange continued: "You know, my

dear, that my Emile has been sadly beside himself lately, and

you know also that I am an invalid and can't bear to see

my only son, the pride of his mother's heart, throwing him

self away, and going to the bad as fast as he can." Mrs. La-

Grange here used her smelling salts, remarking as she did

so: "My neuralgia increases every day this hot weather."

Anything was preferable to a lecture on her bodily infirm

ities, and Julia remarked:

" I am truly sorry Mr. LaGrange has so little self-control.

He has been very courteous and kind to me, and I appreciate

it. But really it is a subject which I do not think it appro

priate for me to discuss."

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ETOWAH.

327

"How can you be so heartless as to be indifferent to the poor boy's condition, when you know you are the sole cause of it? It is true I did all in my power to prevent his in fatuation. Not that you would be perfectly acceptable if you were his social equal, my dear, but you know a govern ess is not the social equal of Emile LaGrange."
Mrs. LaGrange said this with a toss of the head meant to be overpowering.
" I have heard all that I care to hear concerning this most disagreeable subject, Mrs. LaUrange. As to my social posi tion you may think as you please, but I protest again.st being held responsible for your son's weakness "
As Julia said this, she arjse and started to leave the room, but Mrs. LaGrange, forgetting her numerous maladies, rushed to the door and detained her.
'You must not, shall not go until you have heard me. The doctor says Emile is threatened with delirium tremens, and he has been raving about you all night, swearing that he will make you his wife or die. Oh, Julia!" (she had never called her Julia before) " if you have any sympathy for a mother's bleeding heart, you will save my son! I withdraw all the objections I have urged, and will give my consent to your union with my son if you will pledge me never to say that you have been a*governess."
Julia could not feel other than sympathy for the mother, however distasteful to her the woman was.
"Mrs. LaGrange, you amaze me! I have none but the kind.est feelings for Mr. LaGrange, and he> knows it. I am grate ful to you for employing me at such a liberal salary; I am willing to leave the house at any time and seek employment elsewhere, and will certainly do so if I am a cause of trouble or unhappmess. Pardon me when I say a marriage with.

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ETOWAH.

your son is utterly impossible. I will never marry any one;!!

whom I do not love more than all the world beside."

: ;;:j

"Good heavens! Julia, is it possible that you will refuge:!!;

Emile LaGrange, when I tell you that his income from !

United States bonds alone is ten thousand dollars a year?" !i

"It is not only possible, Mrs. LaGrange, but it is absolutely i

certain that I have refused his offers repeatedly, and would

not marry him if his income was ten times as great. But,

understand me, I will do anything that it is proper for me:

to do to befriend your son whom I really like for his good

qualities."

"Miss Bearing, I have done you injustice. I thought you

had been scheming to win the affections of my son. I am

truly sorry that you cannot return his love, but I must say

I respect your integrity and honest independence. There is

not another girl in New Orleans who would not jump at the

chance of marrying Emile LaGrange. You will do him and

his mother a great kindness by remaining in the family, and

I assure you I will not be apt to misunderstand you again.**

"Very well, Mrs. LaGrange, I am glad we understand one.

another. For the present I will remain in my capacity of

governess."

It was evident that Mrs. LaGrange had determined upon

a new plan, to accomplish her purpose, for as Julia held aloof

from the proposition, Mrs. LaGrange became anxious to con

summate it. " Evidently this proud beauty must be other

than she seems, and must have been once, if she is not now,

an heiress herself." Such were the thoughts of the lady as

she determined to find out Julia's history and, if favora

ble, to bring about a marriage with her son and this lovely

girl, who was ever patient and ever dignified: Julia sus

pected nothing of this, and acceded to her wishes from the

ETOWAH.

329

?;: kindly impulses of her generous nature. Few men were less ;;. congenial to her than this amiable coxcomb, Emile LaGrange. ;: "When did you hear last from Etowah. ?" asked Mrs. La:.: Grange about a week after the above conversation.
" I have not heard from Etowah since my arrival in New f Orleans. Why should any one in that city write to me ?" : " I thought you lived there, my dear; that is why I asked
the question." "I have lived in many places; the world is my home," said
Julia. "And how do you like such a Bohemian life ?" "I do not know what you mean by 'Bohemian.' I have
read Miss Fisher's novel, 'A Daughter of Bohemia,' but I did not see why such a title should be given to the book. The heroine was neither a Gipsy nor a native of Bohemia, and I am sure I am as far from being either as Norah Desmond was."
"Well, we will substitute the word 'cosmopolite,'if you prefer it."
"That is as objectionable as the other, for I am intensely Southern in my nature, thoughts, and impulses."
"It is certainly plain enough that you are not a 'Yankee school-marm,' said Mrs. LaGrange.
"I wish I was!" impetuously replied Julia, "for then no one would think it more honorable for a, woman to depend on the charity of friends than to earn one's own living. We have many false notions,, and that is thechiefest of them."
" But marriage, my dear, is the true destiny of woman, and a woman with your natural advantage, and, permit me to add, the further advantage of having been the idol of your distinguished father, ought to be the leader of New Orleans society. I know of no one who could come nearer realizing,

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ETOWAH.

the ideal of the polished Frenchman--'Pleased with all the li

world, whom all the world can please.'"

^.

Julia's eyes flashed as she said indignantly: "What right il

had you to pry into my private history? I see that you have ;';

written to my former home to find out what my past life ::

was, and, Mrs. LaGrange, I can only say that such unpar- .;

donable curiosity must end our intercourse. My reasons for

leaving that home and seeking to make my own support are

my own." To Julia's surprise Mrs. LaGrange did not get

angry, but smiling blandly said to her: "Julia, I apologized

to you when I had been guilty of unintentional injustice. It

is your time now. Our minister, Rev. Mr. P., gave me all

the information I have. He left the parlor a few moments

before you came in and handed me this note, which he said

your friend, Colonel Barnum, requested him to give you."

Julia crimsoned as she took the letter and read it. Then

handing it to Mrs. LaGrange she said in her natural manner,

which she had repressed up to this time: "Well, I suppose,

since Mr. F. has told you all about me, it's no use for me to

play governess in this house any longer. Bead the note if

you wish. Now, Mrs. LaGrange, I must express my regret

for what you have learned and for my own language to

you."

"Why, my dear, do you regret my discovery ? It has made

me very happy. I have not been unmindful of the good

influence you have exerted over Emile. I understand now

how your pride should have caused you to have rejected him

so long as I supposed you were simply a poor girl who had

been educated to be a governess. But surely, now that I

know you are his social equal and, but for the war, would

be as wealthy as Emile himself, there can be no good reason

why, as his wife, you should not be the envy of every belle

;

ETOWAH.

331

: in the Crescent City. Oh! Julia, I shall be so proud of your queenly beauty, if you will only consent to be to New Or leans what the Empress Eugenic is to France; you can if you will only----"
"My dear Mrs. LaGrange," interrupted Julia, "I will never marry your son. Neither do I wish to be what you call 'a leader of society;' I do not approve of married belles. I think a woman's name should find its way in the public prints but twice during life--first at her marriage, and second when she dies. I shrink from notoriety, as I shrink from anything penurious. I must repeat, I am ready--nay anx ious, since my retreat has been discovered--to leave New Or leans and seek to make my support elsewhere. A home as luxurious as this is mine for life, if I will accept it from my uncle, but I will not eat idle bread, nor depend upon any one for my living."
"Well, Miss Bearing," said Mrs. LaGrange in a frigid tone, "henceforth we will resume our positions of employer and employee until the contract is finished. If you are so heart less as to send my son to perdition, I must be hard, too. I have offered you a mother's love and you spurn it."
"As you please, Mrs. LaGrange; I prefer to leave your service at once and seek elsewhere for my subsistence, but my word shall be my bond."
JSfo entreaties on Emile's part could induce Julia to grant him an interview. She ceased to read in the parlor or li brary in the evening, and sought the solitude of her own room in preference. The little girls were her constant com panions and were devotedly attached to her. Their rapid progress in their studies and improvement in deportment caused general comment.

CHAPTER XIX.

i

THE KU-KLUX KLAN.

:

The scene is the court-house square in Etowah. The audience is composed of ignorant plantation negroes. The speaker is a large man of herculean proportions, whose mind seemed an infernal machine endowed with life. Of obscure parentage, he seemed full of venomous hatred against those who had been more favored by birth and fortune than himself. Ambitious for political control in a time of anar chy, he gloated over the opportunities afforded by the exist ence of martial law to humiliate the gentry of the coun try who had never treated him as a social equal. It was to this man, then a merciless overseer but a plotter and agita tor, to whom old Zeke had referred in his conversation with Barnum, related in a previous chapter. From the positioa of steward in a little hotel in Etowah, he had risen to be an overseer who was noted for his cruelty to the slaves placed under his control. From that position he was promoted to his present prominence by the accidents of war. He was now a candidate for the United States Senate, and, though an extremely ignorant man, it seemed probable that the Legislature, composed chiefly of ignorant negro members, would elect him to that exalted office. But jealousy had crept into the ranks of the white Radicals, and he was now thrust out, even from their society. So obnoxious had lie made himself that the hotels refused to receive him as a
guest.

V

ETOWAH.

333

: Yells greeted him as he ascended the platform, and he proceeded to speak as follows : "You have not received any more wages than have the mules on the plantations. I see before me men whom I have known for thirty-two years. Unless your former masters will pay wages, withheld for thirtytwo years, to each man and his wife, who has worked for that period of time, what faith can you place in their promises to pay you now and hereafter? Go to the North and you will get twenty-five dollars a month, and your wife will receive two dollars a week, and you will be paid every Saturday night. In thirty-two years, this will amount to eleven thousand and six hundred and eighty dollars, and that much is due to you, and when it is paid--paid to every man and his wife, who has worked for thirty-two years--it will buy the plantations in this State. The government intends to give you these lands if you will join the loyal league and vote right. Freedmen, demand these lands, and avenge the oppressions to which you have been subjected .all your lives." Then followed a harangue which was replete with sug gestions of the vilest and most incendiary nature. To add to the effect, liquor was freely given to the excited negroes, and the court-house square seemed changed into Pande monium--a veritable council-ground of evil spirits. There was nothing in this speech to indicate that neither at the North nor in any country on earth the money earned as wages paid per month would leave the average laborer any surplus after the expense of supporting the large fami lies of the slaves at the South had been met. Suppose the same speech were made to the same audience twenty years after they had been emancipated, would it find them better

334

ETOWAH.

; :;::!

supplied with food and clothing than they and their feis lies had enjoyed as slaves? Would it leave them any su plus after these had been paid for? But his object was ;||1 foment strife, and he succeeded beyond his anticipations.-ii - Gone now was that beautiful trust and confidence fegll tween master and servant, and in its place were suspicions and dawning hate. The wind was sowing the whirlwinclfl and malice gleamed in eyes that had not shown it before! and the seeds of anarchy were sown. He and his associates! assured these ignorant freedmen that the land which toslj longed to their former masters would be given to them, by;'; the United States Government, just as it had given then*;; freedom. The torch was their weapon of destruction and;;; arson their political creed. He instilled into their hearts;: the same fell spirit which induced the maddened, misguided;; mob of the Paris Commune to raze to the ground and burn:: the historic palace of the Tuileries, with its wealth of art,; which it had taken centuries to collect and preserve.
The speaker who next ascended the stand was introduced by Washburn as "the Reverend Mr. Stunner, of Hinds county, a hero in the cause of emancipation, who was, all during the war, secretly cooperating with me at the immi nent risk of his life." Mr. Stunner had appeared to take the place of Mr. Wellington Napoleon Potts, who was not present, or, if he wa<, did not make his presence known. He could hardly have recognized his whilom "silent part ner" if he had been present.
The "Reverend Mr. Stunner" wore an immaculate white cravat, and the expression on his face was that of extreme humility and piety. His appearance was in all respects the reverse of that of George Washburn, and he seemed almost afraid of himself as he faced the half-drunken negroes. But

ETOWAH.

33i>

he began to tell them that a bill had just been intro in Congress at his suggestion only, and had been Passed by the House of Representatives solely through his inffitenee, owing to his well-known services in behalf of the p|;oor negro slaves for whom he had risked his life, they bepgan to give attention to his utterances. When he exclaimed Pihat he would now explain to them the "provisions of the plnll," he was interrupted by a leading negro exhorter, who pelicited thunderous applause when he said: ;: "Dat's de kind of talk ; tell us about de provisions de govPernment is agwine to give us." Our friend Stunner was equal to the occasion, and imnae: diately addressed himself to the stomachs, rather than the ;: heads of the audience, who had no conception of any other meaning of the word "provisions." Finally, after he had got them thoroughly interested by making them the wildest promises, he began, to describe the Freedmen's Bureau bill,. which had just passed the United States Senate by a vote of thirty-seven against ten. " This bill," he exclaimed loud. ly, "This bill, in authorizing the distribution by the Freed men's Bureau, of clothing and provisions, invites the Presi dent to confiscate and place at the disposal of the bureau three millions of acres of land to be leased or sold, or given to the freedmen, in lots of forty acres. It confirms for three years the concessions and grants made by the Federal gen eral to negroes of the valuable plantations confiscated by him on the Sea Islands, of! the coast of the Carolinas. It authorizes the bureau to buy lands for the freedmen, and to establish schools and asylums for them, and announces that Congress will vote all the money needed." "And give us provisions ?" shouted the negro speaker in

336

ETOWAH.

: ;:Sf

the audience (who had doubtless been drilled for the oocte;|

sion by George Washburn and the Rev. Stunner). . , ;'Bi

"Yes, and give you all that you can eat and wear," replied:;:;:;

the generous Stunner.

;;;;i;

" Golly! dat's de talk for us, " replied several; and now::::

the negroes crowded around the stand to hear every word:::::

" the Rev. Mr. Stunner " uttered.

^

"It stipulates," he continued, "that when the rights of:::

persons of color as to contracts or security of person or prop- .::

erty are threatened, the President shall reqiiire the irfterven- \

tion of the military in their favor.

" It prescribes the penalties, amounting to one thousand

dollars and one year in prison, against any one who

shall attempt to re-establish slavery or to make distinc

tions," (here Stunner spoke very slowly, pausing at each

word, that he might the better emphasize the statement),

' or to make distinctions," he repeated slowly, " on account oj

color. You must understand, my brethren, that this law

means that you are as good as white folks, and can ride, walk,

eat, drink, talk, go to theatres and churches, just as they do,

on a footing of perfect equality and"-- "Kin we marry de

white gals?" asked an excited colored brother, interrupting

the speaker. "Certainly," answered Stunner, " and if they

won't have you, why, you can just take 'em. The longest pole

will get the persimmon."

An indescribable uproar succeeded this remark, during

which John Hefflin was seen shaking hands with various

parties in the audience after the manner of Methodists at a

camp-meeting, as if to say: " You are indebted to me for

all this; you are indebted to me for that bill, and not to my

friend, Stunner, who was only my assistant."

Amid the confusion, Stunner stood still, his hands crossed

ETOWAH.

337

Impiously in front of him, his face having a look of meek Ipeneficence, as he surveyed, the masses before him for whom |:: :fiehad done so much. When comparative quiet was restored, l;;heagain addressed them, stating that the most important
; announcement was yet to come, viz.: "The bill constitutes |;: the agents of the Freedmen's Bureau judges of all the con!;.; tests where the rights of the enfranchised negroes are inter|:i ested, and that the head-officer in this department is your lifeIs- long champion, Mr. Wellington Napoleon Potts." |: Amid laughter and tears, the negroes thronged around the :f stand as if the millennium had come, and the negro " strikg er" again cried out: " Do you mean that the judge, and the ;i: sheriff, and the jury, and the marshal, and the policeman, are ;.; all to be removed or made subject to the orders of Mr. Wel-
;: iington Potts?"
': "Yes, my good brother, that is the law. At last, at last! the bottom rail is on top!" : As they heard Stunner utter this familiar illustration, the
crowd whooped, and yells filled the air as the drunken ne groes wandered about the streets, and it was difficult for Stun ner to get them to listen to the concluding sentences, in which he announced that the bill was passed in the House of Repre sentatives after being amended so as to provide that, should the' freedmen to whom these confiscated lands had been given, or should be given, leased, or sold, be subsequently dispos sessed by reason of amnesty, or for political reasons they should be indemnified for such losses. The negro mob had heard enough.
This was "freedom'' indeed! for the government was going to give them "provisions" all their lives, and. therefore, it

888

ETOWAH,

was useless to work any more. That is the way they < strued his speech.
The planters, already fearfully impoverished, were confronted by this new danger, and, that the reader may; appreciate the situation, a brief resume as to slavery admissible.
Slavery, as it had existed in the Southern States, resei bled more the condition of the serfs of Russia than the cruel; slavery of the Romans. The Russian serf was bound to the soil : and was the property of the Srignmr. They were compelled to : cultivate a certain ground ; : could not leave it without permission. This was also the status of the slaves in the South. In Greece and Rome the number of the slaves frequently exceeded the free population. The law forbade slaves from pleading or giving testimony in the courts; so it did in the South. But there was nothing in the laws which prevailed ii] the Southern States that permitted the barbari ties practiced by the Lacedemonians upon their Helots. Nor was there anything which approached the Roman laws which required slaves to have their heads shaved, their ears pierced, and forced them to wear a costume indicating their condition. The Romans had the right of inflicting death upon their slaves with impunity. In the Southern States a master who murdered his slave was executed as a mur derer and execrated as a human monster. Under the great Augustus, the .%iK*/*i mH.^/wM ordained, if a citizen was killed in his own house, all his slaves could be put to torture. This was the law in ancient Rome.
In some cases slaves were punished by being delivered in the arena to lie devoured by wild beasts. Hence the odium which attaches to "chains and slavery."' In the South no. barbarous practices could be indulged in without punish-

:;;':

ETOWAH.

339

;i; merit, and the criminal law applied to the master as well as ;::: the slave. As in Rome, however, they could not marry ;;;' without their master's permission. II The freedmen of Rome were not made citizens except uil:L tier certain circumstances defined by law. They were called II lihrti with reference to their masters, and Hbertini with ref: erence to their being freed men, their new condition. But :;: even the freedmen of the first class were under certain obli gations to their masters, and were not genuine citizens. They ;. wore a cap as a sign of recent freedom, but took the names of 1 their previous masters, and so did the freedmen of the South
get their names. The sons of freedmen became citizens. As with Russian serfs, emancipation meant with the Romans n gradual evolution, and the owners were compensated for the loss of their slaves, both under the Jnuiaii law in Rome, and. recently by the decree of the Czar Alexander, iil'Russia. Like the Roman colonists the "-Tunian Latins," as the freedmen were called, were neither slaves nor citizens. In America the emancipation of the slaves of the South without any law by which slave-owners, even in the loyal border States, could be compensated, was not only a war measure, but it secured 79,638 colored enlisted .soldiers in the volunteer services and 99,337 colored soldiers enlisted by the United States Gov ernment, while twice that number were employed on forti fications and doing other military work. Now, a war of races was threatened and a reign of terror prevailed. A hen in gathering her chickens together and sheltering them with her wings, when danger menaces them, cries to them: "Ku-Klux ! Ku-Klux !" From so simple a fact orig inated the name of the dreaded secret society called the KuKlnx Klan.

340

ETOWAH.

;;!

The statutes of the French carbonari were most stringent:!

The faintest whisper of the secrets of the society to outsider*!

constituted treason, and was punishable with death. N<E.-;

written communications were permitted. In 1819, them:;

were about 20,000 carbonari in Paris. In 1821, the govern-!

ment was officially informed that the society existed in twen-;;;;

ty-five out of the eighty-six departments in France.

}

The carbonari in Italy and France were republicans. Men;:;

like Voyer d'Argenson, Lafayette. Laffite, Dupont del'Eure, 1 ;

;Barthe, Teste, and other republicans of mark, joined the!

movement, and adopted the ritual of the Abruzzi carbonari.

The Congres National of the Carbonari, which had its head

quarters at Paris, seemed for a time omnipotent. All the

.insurrectionary movements from 1819 to 1822 were attrib

uted to them.

After the July revolution of 1830, the carbonari gave in

their allegiance to Louis Philippe. The conservative carbo

nari do not now exist; but the radical faction founded the

new charbonerie democratique. This carbonari is called La

Commune. The old "Commune.'' which acted with the Ja

cobins and reeked with the deeds of Robespierre and Dan-

ton, is dead. The new Commune are "BedRepublicans" and Socialists:

thev are members of the Societe Internationale, the members

of which are called Nihilists in Russia.

The same discontent , the same violent agitation by revo

lutionary proletarians, characterized the secret society of Ire

land.

The colonel of the 69th New York regiment, and the gen

eral commanding the "Irish Brigade" in the Union army,

were Fenians. There were 35,000 Fenians regularly enrolled

in Ireland in 1858. Catholics in Ireland were prohibited by

;;:.

ETOWAH.

841

^ law from possessing fire-arms. "Circles'- were established in ::i all the large American cities, and thousands of soldiers in ;':.both the Union and the Confederate armies were Fenians. : The Fenian society had its ramifications all over Great Brit s' am and Ireland. A member of the Canadian ministry was ' killed on the steps of his own door; his opposition to Feni-
anism was alleged as the motive for the deed. The Duke of Edinburgh was dangerously wounded in Port Jackson, Aus tralia..
Carbonari in Italy, the Commune in France, Fenianism in Ireland, Socialism in Germany, Nihilism in Russia, KuKluxism in the Southern States. Well might the question be asked in the United States Senate, ''Can you place in penitentiary walls eight millions of people ?"
Civil law had been annihilated, and anarchy reigned su preme. Three States now constituted the ''Third Military District." Martial law was declared, "Magna Charta" for gotten, the "habeas corpus" Act a nullity.
An ignorant mass of semi-civilized beings, recently eman cipated, were being organized in every county, in the South into secret societies called "Loyal Leagues." They were taught that their former masters were their oppressors and enemies. The organizers of these "circles," of these "huts," of these "venditas," of these "ventes" in the Southern States were adventurers of the meanest sort; men without princi ple and without patriotism; men who would have joined the anarchists in Russia, Ireland, Italy or France; men- who were not recognized as good citizens or respectable members of society in any part of the United States. The majority of them were penniless adventurers who had not fought in either army. They were called "Scallawags."

342

ETOWA.H.

When King Louis XVIII. succeeded the exiled

Napoleon in 1817, the people of France were divided inia

two parties--conquered Imperialists and triumphant Loyal-:

ists; but they were Frenchmen, all of the same race, i

ses. characteristics and sentiments. Deserters and

flaunted the evidence of their paid-for treachery before ttsji;;;;;

disgusted eyes of their compatriots, who had vainly followers;?

the fortunes of their dethroned emperor. Riches followed!!

treachery.

;;;:: ;

Human nature is the same the world over, and in ail::

times, among all peoples, success is worshipped by the fickle::

populace eager to cry, "The King is dead; long live the;;;

King!"

"

-!

So it was in the South, and the few white citizens whs became suppliant " boot-licks" to the conquerors were cnriched with unearned wealth and rewarded for their treach ery. They were insolent in their pretensions, arrogant in their professions, mendacious in their reports, and they alone were believed and trusted by the government. Among them Wellington Napoleon Potts was a shining light. But they were a mere handful, while the illiterate, semi-cvilized negroes just emerging from slavery were an easy prey to the designing adventurers who assumed all political power. Three typical leaders met. They counselled together. Said one: "Our cause is- lost, and I shall leave the country." And the mighty leader, with his shaggy locks and lordly mien, passed away unpardoned and unrepentant to the last. What other country would have allowed him, no longer a citizen of the United States, to hold high office in, and frame the organic laws of, his native State ? Another, whose feeble frame held an eagle spirit, dauntless, unselfish, patriotic, humanitarian! the leader in the House of Representatives,

tit;

ETOWAH.

343

ttssthe former was in the Senate of the United States, stood Itilip upon his crutches and calmly said: " I have committed Sj?jj5x> crime; I shall live quietly at home among my people." I:: Jsar could the fetters and disease engendered by prison air it; break his spirit; and when death came, it found him the jit governor of his State and honored throughout the Union. tt: -:': The third, an ex-State official, as prompt to "bend the pi: knee that thrift might follow fawning," as he was to plunge |t the people, to whom he was indebted for all that he had, H/into desperate war, espoused the cause of radicalism and :t became the richest man in the State. Twelve years before t he was an obscure lawyer, poor and almost unknown. Four t years before, still poor, he was the universally trusted ser: rant of the people ; two years before their heroic civic leader, t whose iron will scorned to treat with the enemy on any other i basis than the entire independence of the sovereign State. : ii which he seemed to consider, as did Louis XIV., the king- . ; : <lom of France, " L'Etat f'est moi/" And thus was the ballot placed in the hands of ignorant negroes suddenly emanci pated. : And yet In many of the Western States the organic law discriminated directly against the negro, though there was but one negro to a thousand whites. Even Kansas, which entered the Union in 1864, during the throes of that bloody war which was inaugurated on her soil, restricted the right of suffrage to the white man. Nevada, whose admission to the Union was subsequent to the enactment of the 13th amendment, denied suffrage to " any negro, Chinaman or mulatto." The question of admitting the negro to suffrage was submitted to popular vote in Connecticut, Wisconsin and Minnesota in the autumn of 1865, and at the same time in Colorado when she was forming her Constitution prepara-

344

ETOWAH,

tory to seeking admission to the Union, and in all four;:!!

under control of the Republican party at the time, the prop-::!!

osition was defeated.

ill

In Connecticut only those negroes were allowed to vote;::!

who were admitted freedmen prior to 1818. New York per- !

mitted a negro to vote only after he had been a citizen three;:::

years, and for one year the owner of a freehold worth $250, 1::

free of all incumbrances. In the other Northern States only ;s

white men were allowed to vote.

:;;

The negroes now looked to Hallback for leadership, and his

opposition to the white people, as a race, ceased at the point

where it menaced the personal safety of his former mistress

and her family.

In walking through the square he heard a conversation

which convinced him that danger had never so menaced

them before, and witnessed a scene which he rightly thought

meant trouble.

A group of young men, whose excited but earnest manner

attracted the loungers in the court-house square in Etowah,

were discussing the events of the previous day. The myste

rious order, called "Ku-Klux," had been organized in various

parts of the South, but up to this time no such organization,

it was thought, had been perfected in this State. Whether

these young men contemplated taking the law in their

own hands in this manner is not known, but they were evi

dently much excited about the sudden arrest of several

prominent citizens on the alleged ground that they had re

fused to deliver to the government detective, John HefHin,

property seized by him as cotton which had belonged to the

Confederate Government, but which they maintained had

been raised after the Confederate Government had ceased to

exist.

!!

ETOWAH.

345

::: Hallback listened attentively to the conversation. The previous night four dwellings had been burned ; the night before thirteen fires had been started in different portions of the town. The suggestion of Hefflin to the "Torch-Bearers" was bearing its fruit; arson was becoming a crime of nightly occurrence. Arson was almost unknown in the days of slavery. The excitement was evidently increasing as the dis cussion proceeded. "Shall we be plundered remorselessly, with no law to pro tect us, with the right of trial by jury denied, us. -and the military only recognized ?" said one. Hallback was not seen by them, a small house concealing him from their view, but he listened intently. "Shall we be robbed, insulted and traduced by the follow ers of an ex-slave-driver, whose brutality in the days of slavery made his name a by-word and a reproach ?" asked a second. "He has openly avowed his purpose to instigate a war of races, and has publicly advocated the doctrine of miscegena tion, undermining the mutual trust and confidence of the white and black races, and is, therefore, an outlaw !" exclaimed a determined citizen. "Aye!" responded another, "the sanctity of the family is the most sacred of human rights; social order is at stake. Shall a handful of men set at naught the rights of manhood and womanhood, overturn the old English law, 'a man's, house is his castle,' and make our servants secret spies and informers ? This state of things is intolerable." "That is all true," remarked the more patient and conserv ative, "but he is backed by the United- States Government, and we had better submit, for the present, until the truth is

346

ETOWAH.

I

made known in Washington, and this tyranny breaks down : (he party that inaugurated it."
"Bosh !" replied the indignant listener, "what people who helped to forge their own chains were ever worthy of freedom? Last night five hundred armed negro men, who had abandoned their labors on plantations were in the city, making night hideous with their fierce threats of burning, riot and outrage. I heard this man Washbum speak to them in the court-house square, urging them to deeds which none but drunken semi-savages could have hailed with such shouts as they did. I tell you, if the whole army of the United States were here to enforce the license thus advocated, death, especially the death of our daughters, would be preferable to submission!"
"I counsel decisive, but just action," said a gray-haired man, " and I do it rather for the sake of the future of the negroes than of the whites in this country. I do not fear negro supremacy; nor do I think the war of races, if inau gurated, would continue long. It would end in massacre. In case of a conflict they would be swept away, while yonder miscreant, with his ill-gotten gains, would be safe at the North heralded as a martyr. For the sake of the negroes, th^n, I say to you, forbear! Warn him to leave; then go to Washington in such numbers and in such manner as to insure respect, and make known your grievances. When all this has been done, and no relief is given, then ' let justice be done though the heavens fall!'"
As the old gentleman, who, while walking in the park, had, like Hallback, accidentally heard the young men conversing, strode s'owly away, every hat was lifted in token of respect for the venerable Colonel Hugh Leslie.

f:

ETOWAH.

347

. Some fer cious, blood-thirsty braggarts are cowards at heart, but Wa-'h urn was not one of these. Coarse, brutal, with str. ng common s use and but little education, this mu-cular man was bold and c airageous to a r -niai-kable degree. De ceived by past submission on the patt of thn people of Etowah, he became bolder and more threatening after this.

CHAPTER XXX.

^1

HALLBACK.

:;::;:

"Homo sum: humani nil a me alienum puto." (Terence's play,^S

Heauton, Act III., Scene V.)

^

To the human eye life is, like the ocean, limitless as the ;; skies, and Hallback now stood on its sunrise shore. To him ;: the axiomatic advice uttered by Tacitus over a thousand: years ago, "It is better to look on the dark side of things," was meaningless, for youth is ever sanguine. At first the ; sympathies of the white people were with him, because u was evident that he desired to promote a kindly feeling among the blacks and harmony between the races. But he .stood alone since the death of "Uncle Barney," like a log in mid-stream in time of a great flood, utterly unable to steer the forces that seethed about him. To side unconditionally with the whites meant, he thought, a base treachery to his race; to side with the unscrupulous leaders whom they now followed like "blind leaders of the blind" seemed to him to lead them to certain ruin, which would end in an Iliad of woes! For the whites, it was enough that he was a Radical leader and a Republican voter, sustaining the "scallawags" of the land. For this, they affirmed, he ought to be behind a mule and a plow, with a "driver" like Wash bum was, to " teach him his proper place." The blacks were be ing taught by Washburn and his associates to regard him as a traitor to their race, and George Washburn was now their acknowledged leader.
Thus the poor fellow was isolated, more than he had ever

:

ETOWAH.

349

; been as a slave, by circumstances beyond his control, which finally aligned him, owing to his combattive nature, among :;;:- ihe most extreme of the negro leaders. Under Washburn's ; leadership the idea that the quickest way to get their newly; ' ordained rights was to destroy the property of their former : : owners, seemed to be rapidly taking possession of the negro ; mind, and to this doctrine Hallback had openly announced : that he could neither acquiesce nor remain indifferent. Sure ly nothing can be more difficult than to become the leader of a people suddenly elevated from slavery to citizenship. The best trained and most experienced intellects may well hesitate to assume this role, especially when the logic of events arrays the ex-slaves of an inferior race in solid phalanx against those to whom they have looked all their lives for counsel, sympathy and support. To Hallback the field was limited at first to his native county, and then to the adja cent counties. But, among the two thousand negro men with whom he counselled, there were not fifty who could read and write. To them the twenty thousand troops that had cap tured the town of Etowah seemed the largest army in exist ence. To them the story of the battles fought during the long war of four years' duration was incomprehensible, and the collapse of the Confederacy caused them utter amazement. Their mental horizon was limited to the plantation and other plantations. Their ignorance was the corner-stone of slavery. Admit that their masters had been overcome and forced to lay aside their weapons--nay, more, to yield up all rights of ownership to their slaves--seemed to their ignorant minds and vivid imaginations the realization of a dream as wild and enchanting as any portrayed in the Arabian Nights. Thus deluded; they listened to the suggestions of Hefflin, Washburn and the sanctimonious Wellington Napoleon

350

ETOWAH.

Potts, and confidently prepared to claim and take possession of the homes of their late masters as soon as the promised con fiscation act should be enacted. Meanwhile the information gained by Hallback weighed like a nightmare upon his mind and conscience. Its import, he felt, was exceedingly serious and probably meant the killing of George Washburn. The man who had spurned him from his presence the very day that he overheard the young men talking, because he refused to lend himself to further his corrupt schemes, was thus threatened. Vendetta was stalking through the land, and in his own heart he felt sufficient animosity to revenge the death of "Uncle Barney." But he could not persuade.him self to become by silence an accomplice to his murder by others, and there had been no personal difficulty between Washburn and himself that would justify either in taking the life of the other.
Besides, his ambition was Utopian in its scope, and was> no less a motive than to lead his race back to the African, continent, the land of their forefathers.
To whom could he turn for advice ? He reflected upon the situation, and the more he reflected the more perplexed he became. Had the negroes shown that they were capable of using the ballot safely ? The county treasurer was a negro who could not read or write, and was notoriously corrupt. The negro superintend ent of public instruction was under indictment for embez zlement and fraud. The late treasurer in the county where the State capital lies was a negro, who could neither read nor write, and who was killed by another negro a few weeks be fore for a disgraceful intrigue. Many of the members of the Legislature were negroes who could neither read nor write.

ETOWAH.

35 i

and the grand jury, sitting at the time, was composed of ne groes who were totally illiterate. Among all the members of his party, Colonel Barnum alone had listened patiently and counseled wisely. Colonel Barnum had said to him:
" Of course 1 shall have nothing to do with political mat ters here, but I will say to you that the qualification of a juror under the law is a proper subject for the decision of the courts; and it will not be protended that an illiterate ne gro or white man is competent to exercise the functions of a judge."
"But," said Hallback, "these men have assured us that the military will appoint and remove judges for us as they please, and our people believe that they can dictate who the judges shall be/'
"You need not fear that," replied Barnum. "The mili tary commander should, and I have no doubt will, maintain the just power of the judiciary, and he should nut %)ermit the civil authorities and laws to be embarrassed by military interference. Continue the good work you have commenced; be conservative, and assuvc the negroes that their best friends are not strangers who live a thousand miles distant, and who care nothing for them except to use them as the monkey did the cat, to pull the chestnuts out of the Are."
Barnum rarely joked, especially with inferiors, but he realized the force of this homely illustration, and Hallback had used it to advantage at the last meeting of the " League/'
Thus the breach was widened between him and the scheming and unscrupulous and self-constituted leaders of the deluded negroes, who were quick to turn from one extreme to the other.
But the very course of action which Barnum had assured him would not be taken was suddenly adopted, and the

852

ETOWAH.

';;;|

judiciary itself was made subordinate to the military power;;:

The right of trial by jury was also practically abolished, "^

All men who had served the Confederate States Gove^k :.:

ment were, by military order, prohibited from serving o&i!s%

juries. This practically disfranchised the white men, ninti? #$#

tenths of whom had been in the Confederate service.

.:::MsM

Self-reliance was Hallback's boast at this %)eriod. WitbJ;:%

out knowing that he was quoting from the most famous freej.:%

slave of antiquity, he said to himself: " I am a man, and

nothing that belongs to man is alien to me."

The more Sallback deliberated, the harder it was for him .::-;#^

to refrain from warning Washburn, though he was his most

formidable enemy, of the peril which awaited him if he per

sisted in his course. Finally he arose from his sleepless bed

and proceeded to the house where Washburn boarded. It

was a low negro tenement, in the centre of the town, in a

disreputable locality. He knocked at the door, and was

shown to Washburn's room by a young negress. There he

knocked again, and was answered by the summons:

"Come in."

He entered, hat in hand, with respectful manner, and was

motioned to a chair by Washburn. The great physiognomist,

Lavater, whom Goethe called the wisest of men, would have

been impressed by Washburn's appearance. A man of mas

sive proportions, six feet and two inches in height and mus

cular enough to have challenged any pugilist to a trial of

physical strength, his face was like that of a mastiff. Me

tempsychosis seemed reversed, for in that malicious face the

spirit of the bull-dog seemed to have gone. A child would

have shrunk from him in terror. With this countenance,

expressive of the utmost malice, he grumy said to Sallbaek:

|:>: :

ETOWAH.

35S

l:::"What have you come here again for, and why have you I i elected this late hour?" |; ;t It was nearly midnight, and it did seem strange that HallS ;::back should'have called at so late an hour; but his restless ;V spirit would not admit of longer delay. :; "Mr. Washburn," he answered, "I will not pretend to be i a friend of yours; in fact. I consider you my enemy; whether ; I am yours or not let results determine. I have certainly i called on a friendly mission now. I have called to tell you that your life is in danger. I think you will certainly : be killed if you don't change your tactics." He then related, without naming any individuals, what he had heard; then arose and started to leave the room, when, in a peremptory voice, Washburn said: " Halt! By God! you shall not leave this room until you tell me the names of the men who sent you here with these threats. I despise them as I despise you, and I would kick you out of this room if I did not have better use for you."
"That's about the size of it," said a man as he emerged from the closet and stood between Hallback and the door. Turning to see who this man was, Hallback was amazed to see that he was practically a prisoner, for Hefflin stood at the door and Washburn was in the act of advancing toward him. Both were armed. What would have happened is not known, for at that moment several voices without the house de manded admittance. Hefflin leaped through the window into darkness. Washburn extinguished the light and stood upright behind the table, his pistol drawn, and ready for what he rightly conceived to be the visit of the Ku-klux Klan.
"You cannot come in," said he, closing the door just as
23

854

STOWAH.

Hallback stepped, from the room into the hall and into

midst of a number of masked men. Ho was totally

pared for this, and was in imminent danger until the l

said : ' Pinion his arms and guard him--now go in.

In a moment the door wn* broken down and they ord.er-.4l

Washburn to come forth and IK; prepared to leave the com-|

munity forever or suffer the penalty.

:%

" Take that for my answer ! :; he cried, firing his pistol Intel

their ranks as ho spoke.

::s

The fire was returned by score, of shots, and the fearlees-H

desperado lay dead upon the floor, his smoking pistol clenched^

in his now nerveless hand, his pulse stilled forever.

J:

In spite of what he thought would have been his own fate I:

had this Ku-klux Klan not appeared just as it did, Hallback-;;

was dreadfully shocked, and indignantly denounced as a-';;

dastardly outrage the killing of the very man whom he bad :;

felt that ho would have to kill

:

Strange to say, none of the . masked men resented Hall- ;

back's speech, a solemn silence brooded over the midnight

scene ; his arms were unpinioncd and a voice in the darkness

said to him : "It is done : you can 20 ; we do not wish to harm

In less time than it has taken tx relate it, the band had disappeared, the policemen went on their beats as usual, and it was only when the Mayor was s. . *ified by Hallback of the tragedy that he summoned citizens to assist him in investi gating this first act performed by that dreaded organization.
It all happened in a few minutes, rmd yet, when the jury of inquest arrived at the house, they i< ind on the front door the plain, outlines of a coffin surmounted by the skeleton head and cross-bones.
The hushed voices of hundreds f frightened negroes were


Plisajil in the vicinity, and it seemed that the death of their ip;iadical white leader would meet with summary vengeance. Puntil the light of the lanterns show the skull and crossstones above a coffin drawn upon the door, hut apparently I.-real objects. iJr ;'Who placed them there? How is it possible 1'or folks to do it in so short a time?'' Such were their questions. This : mysterious symbol of death seemed to their excited imagina: tion to bo of supernatural origin; superstitious fear gained ;: the ascendency over thoughts of. vengeance, and the}- soat; tered and disappeared as rapidly as the masked men had
done: and as they fled, a tall, black-robed, funereal figure :' arose near the door and towered up. first five feet, then ten.
and finally he stood fifteen feet in height, rockets shooting meanwhile from beneath his arms, from his sides and back, while the single eye in the midst of the masked forehead gleamed like a living coal amid the pyrotechnic display. Be ing totally unacquainted with pyrotechnics, they fled panicstricken. But one solitary negro remained, and it was he who had hurriedly informed the Mayor and had now re turned with the posse, and now pointed out the scene and related the incidents of that terrible vendetta.
That solitary negro was Halfback, and his vituperation of the "cowardly assassins" was enough to have aroused the negroes to take summary vengeance had they heard him.
Forgotten now was the infamous character of the dead man ; forgotten the murder of old uncle Barney; the one thought was that the acknowledged boldest leader of his race, however malignant his character, had been slain. Forgotten were prudence, enmity, malice, ambition, which fled from his impulsive heart in the presence of the assassinated dead.

356

ETOWAH.

-!';-;1il

Finally, he seemed suddenly to remember the importapll

that a court might attach to his words and was silent. ;;;;!;!

The Mayor turned to the crowd which had now colleefeil!

and said: "If any one else present was a witness to tlSil

shooting let him stand forth." Instantly Hefnin stepped;^;!

the front and said:

:::::!:

, "I saw George Washburn when he fell dead, your honorTM!;

"Who was his murderer?"

;;;;s|;

"There were several; but the man who fired the fatal sat>ll

is the negro who has expressed himself so violently, aai!

there he stands," pointing to Hallbeck.

;;;;;|

"You infamous liar; I'll kill you for this!" said Hallbacfe!

springing toward Hefflin.

:; ;;|

"Arrest him !" said the Mayor, and before he could makss!

his way through the crowd, he had been thrown to the!

ground, in spite of his resistance, and pinioned again. Was;;;

ever circumstantial evidence stronger against any innocest;;:

prisoner ?

: v;;:

Hefflin declared that Hallback had done it to avenge the;;

death of old Barney, and that the crowd fired wildly, whys;;;

Hallback placed his pistol to Washburn's head. Meanwhile;;

Hallback was not armed, and had gone there on a mission ;;

of mercy.

Behold him a month later, a victim subject to the merciless

orders of the accomplice of the murderer of old Barney, now

the preferred officer of the great government which he, the'.

innocent prisoner, had so gallantly served ! Confined in a :

cell in Fort Pulaski, and chained down, like Bonivard, with

the ceaseless requiem of the waves around and about him,

charged with the murder of George Washburn and denied

the right of trial by jury!

At last the darkness is relieved, and Captain Rook, the

p;":

ETOWAH.

357

|;;f:Sfflniander of the fort, stood in the door-way. Be ordered. pse prisoner to stand up. Then Hallback submitted withpsjt a murmur as the orderly searched thoroughly his perlissim and pockets. Hefflin and Captain Rook then spoke ;;;;!.!>gethei., and Captain Rook ordered the barber to be sent :;pr to shave the prisoner's head. He was then ordered back ;: :;a bis cell. In an hour ho was brought out blindfolded, :pirried down into a room, seated, into a chair and the ban!; :4age taken from his eyes. Then Hefflin said to him, "Hallpack, I havo an order to put you through, and I am going to do : :\it. Do you wish to seo a minister first'?" This was enough ;; to cause any ordinary man to shudder, but, before Hallback :'. could, answer. Hefflin stepped aside, the bandage was taken ;-. from his eyes and he saw a soldier standing near a brass :: iiuinon with a string from the cannon to his head, and : wherever he turned his eyes, the cannon was ranged upon :.Mm. His head was then lathered with two scrubbing brushes, and there were two or three razors lying on the ' table. He was then made to stand up and be measured
against the wall. During this time, Hefflin said to him, "Now, sir, I've got
you, and if you don't tell what you have heard, and what . you have done, and what you know about the murder of George Washburn, I am going to send you to kingdom
come!" With a fierce look and an undaunted manner, Hallback an
swered : "I know nothing whatever about it." "You need not tell me a lie," said the bafBed detective;
"the rebels have been posting you, but it's no use." Hefnin then ordered him to be taken back to his cell, say
ing he would give him one day for reflection before carrying

KTOWAH.
into execution the sentence passed upon him, and i that he would have his liberty if he would turn State's f;% donee and swear who the guilty parties were.
Tie was then put back in his cell, .where he remained solitary confinement for five days.
Again he was brought forth, carried to another part of# fort, and the "sweat-box" was shown to him. This: instrument of torture unknown to military science.
"T will put you there for a month/' said HefHin, "if j don't reveal all you know."
Hallback looked n/: this torture-box, which would ri? the rack of mediaeval times.
But. though a slow death by torture thus stared him; tiie face, the honest, truthful black man thus rebuked 1 infamous white renegade: "You can put mo there; you i kill me if you will, but I cannot utter a falsehood wt will implicate innocent persons. I know nothing off imu'der."
He was then placed in the " sweat-box/' It was fitted in a closet in the walls of the fort, and little widei- thanHallback's body; the door closed withi:; three inches of his breast, and the only air lie breathed through a, few auger holes in the door. The wooden sides ; this box, by means of a screw, are compressed closer: closei-, when torture is inflicted, until the individual caK:--:;i scarcely breathe; then a stream of hot air or steam, is ' upon the victim and he is almost stifled; a pressure is ' put upon his heart and lungs until the agony of his ] is such that human nature sinks under the infliction. He was left in this sweat-box for forty hours under tk^Ji; belief that he would thus suffer thirty days, and it was : summer, in a warm climate, charged with malaria.

;::'

ETOWAH.

359

:;::isken otit, his limbs were swollen and very painful, and yet ::::t3 refused to the end to give the testimony demanded. ::: v In all revocations crimes like this are unintentionally le galized, when a government is misled by bad men in official ::jslacef, : : The government knew nothing of the existence of this : :( sweat-box." But the "loyalist," Hefflin, had had his re.;\?enge, and Hallback could well have repeated Madame Ko'1and;s words: " Oh ! Liberty, how many crimes are comrnit: led in thy name!"

CHAPTER XXXI.

FBOM THE NEWSPAPER.

"To the unsophisticated Englishman, to the ignorant

or German, an American is an American. If he is not rampant&si

modern, sensationally progressive and furiously material, he is noSisx

ing at all."

-. : ;;:;t

In the capital city of the State lived a former friend an<I;;;

college-mate of Henry Latane, Mr. Worthy Graball by namfe:::

Mr. Worthy Graball was the editor of the Radical pape?;;;

there, and was at this period very friendly and influential:::

with the military authorities who ruled the State, and witSs;;;

the political renegades who desired to govern it.

;;:;

Latane had been frequently amused at the extraordinary;^

success which attended the political somerset of the "shifty?;',

young editor, Mr. Worthy Graball, who had availed himseli;

of the lucrative opportunities which Latane had scornful!}';::

rejected. Mr. Worthy Graball had successfully substituted;;

assertion for argument, and assurance and "cheek" for knowl- ;

edge and ability.

.

I;

Mr. Graball was a very shrewd man; though in no genre-;;

a scholar, he devoted his talents to subjects that suit the in- ;

telligence of the average mechanic. Politics filled his paper,

and the shears filled his editorial columns, except when they

were filled with matter paid for at so much a line, though :

seemingly the independent expression of an honest editor, :

seeking to mould public opinion on a disinterested plane.

Mr. Graball was also a very enterprising man, who construed '.

public spirit to mean private profit; and he faced the

world with a genial, happy-go-lucky expression at all times,

l!!:-!'

ETOWAH.

361

:i::::8xcept when occasion demanded that he snould frown down :: ; ::;iny insinuations as to his being philanthropic for purposes : :: : :<)f revenue only. At such times he looked at his accuser ::::5?ith an indignant gaze at first, then wrung his hand with :: . ; ais own right hand in a deeply injured manner, while his :: :: left hand was behind his back, held open to receive the : bribe offered. This is a metaphorical analysis of Mr. Grab-
all's character, of course, but it properly describes it. His paper was the "organ" of the most powerful and the most ..corrupt politician of the day, who held a large mortgage .upon it and who, until that mortgage was paid, owned Mr. Graball, body, mind and soul.
At college Mr. Graball had been noted as a "boot-lick," but his fawning obsequiousness to this great political magnate ' was sickening in its humility.
And yet it paid him well, for Mr. Graball was already prosperous, and he had been too shrewd a student of the methods of his corrupt patron not to learn how to utilize it. He was an excellent reporter, but a very poor editor; but when his paper lacked spicy, entertaining news, he supplied facts from his phosphorescent fancy.
Mr. Graball was an intimate friend of Mr. Wellington Na poleon Potts. It is needless to say that both despised a gen tleman as being uneqal to the exigencies of the "New South." (so called.)
As a rule, the editor who loves the whole world, and is al ways in a good humor with both supporters and opponents, and is at all times apparently utterly free ficm malice, when an emergency arises won't do to rely upon. He is apt to be selfish to the core of his heart. Without convictions of any sort, he is a sensationalist always--as eager to do honor to the man who caused desolation and sorrow to take the place

362

ETOWAE,

of prosperity and happiness, provided he be powerful

ituoutial, as to honor him who rightly deserves the suffrages- -;|

of tiie people.

;::;

But in the ease of Mr. (Iraball it will not be just to assert

that he was malicious, for he was naturally an amiable, ::

clever, kindly fellow, whoso better nature had been warped

and dwarfed by circumstances to which, had he been the great

man that he claimed to be. he would not have succumbed.

Xo act of cruelty could be traced to him, and many acts

of little kindnesses showed that, at heart, he was not a bad

man. Hence Lata.no overlooked his foibles, laughed at his

pretensions, but was not in any sense his enemy.

Mr. Graball's intimate associates were always of an intel

lectual calibre, inferior to his own. He was studiously care

ful not to be seen in the company of men whose attainments

were superior to his own.

Stunner admired him greatly, consulted him frequently,

and plied him with flattery, so that such notices of his de

parture or arrival as, "Our eminent financier, Mr. J. B.

Stunner, returned from an important visit to Etowah," or

-''our distinguished lawyer, Mr. J. B. Stunner, will attend

the circuit court to be held in Starebuck," were frequently

chronicled in the Daily Gazette.

Withal, Mr. Graball was considered a jolly, good fellow,

friendly with everybody on earth, inimical to no one, but

always an assiduous devotee to the interests of "number

one." He looked over the head of the man who insulted

him; yet he treasured it up and returned the compliment in

cold type, but in a manner so veiled that neither legal nor

personal satisfaction could be demanded without subjecting

the aggrieved citizen to ridicule.

But Latane looked in vain for a detailed criticism of the

KTOWAH.

36?)

killing of George Washburn in the columns of Worthy Graball's paper. The Radical newspapers at the North furiously denounced it, and called for the punishment of the murder ers. Mr. Graball's paper only noticed it as an item of news.
Henry Latanu felt justly indignant at the arrest of Hallbatk. wlium hu felt was an innocent of the murder of George Waahburn as hu was, and he had so stated in an editorial which scathingly criticised Heffiin.
It w:i: now incumbent upon Henry Latanu to criticise in a more general and impartial manner the killing of George Washburn. an act which, in common with good citizens generally, ho deeply regretted. The indignities and suffer ings to which Hallback was being subjected he was igno rant of. Ttwasa difficult task, but he wrote as follows:
" In Sanborn's ' Life of John Brown/ the biographer states as a fact that John Brown was the originator and per former of the executions of pro-slavery men who were bru tally and mysteriously assassinated in 1856, on Pottawatamie creek, in Kansas, although the hands that dealt the wounds were those of others.
" The next year John Brown had conferences with, and obtained encouragement and aid in money from, leading abolitionist, agitators in New England. A year later, with the aid thus furnished him, he had a thousand pikes made in Connecticut for his invasion of the South in the guise of a liberator of slaves. Then he issued the following ^roMMMcMmm/f: ' Give a slave a pike and you make him a man. A ravine is better than a plain. Roads and mountain-sides can be held by resolute men against ten times their force. Nat. Turner. T%h fifty men, held Virginia five weeks; the same number, well organized and armed, can shake the eys-

364

KTOWAH.

: ' : ;-;;01:

tern of slavery out of the State. Twenty men in the Alfei;;!;!

ghanies could break slavery to pieces in two years.'

::::!

;; Supported by the coterie of Radical abolitionists and tiui;;;;f

money subscribed, this fanatic made his memorable attack;;;;!

at Harper's Ferry. Emboldened by his bloody and law-;^:;

less career in Kansas, he now deliberately undertook te;;;i; ;

incite servile insurrection and inaugurate the murder o;; i

thousands of innocent families in Virginia. And thus did ::;

George Washburn attempt to do in this State. It was 'Ku-V-;

kluxism' of the most inexcusable, because unprovoked, *

nature. Is'ot a man in Virginia had ever harmed John

Brown, or had had any transaction with him. If he had suc

ceeded as he wished, he would not only have inaugurated

massacres, but he would have robbed them of millions of

dollars worth v.." property invested under the constitutional

guarantees of the United States.

"We need no better witness to attest this than Abraham

Lincoln, who expressed himself as follows : ' Much is said

by Southern people about the affection of slaves for their

masters and mistresses, and a part of it, at least, is true. A

plot for an uprising could scarcely be devised and communi

cated to twenty individuals before some one of them, to save

the life of a favorite master or mistress, would divulge it.

John Brown's effort was peculiar. It was not a slave insur

rection. It was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt

among slaves, in which the slaves refused to participate.

That affair, in its philosophy, corresponds with many at

tempts related in history of the assassination of kings and

emperors.'

" Thus did Abraham Lincoln express his opinion a few

months after the execution of John Brown and only three

years before the war.

KTOWAH.

365

" This lengthy notice of the career of John Brown is due to its similarity to that of George Washburn, who was recently slain in this city. The only practical difference is as to the methods of execution. The State of Virginia hung John Brown by due process of law, while here, in the absence of any civil tribunals and of any State government, an unknown mob seems to have taken the law in their own hands.
" Meanwhile this Ku-klux leader of 1851, was lauded to the skies by those who are so clamorous now for the punishment of men who execute the unwritten law that unscrupulous agitators, who persist in inciting thousands of ignorant and suddenly emancipated slaves to insurrection, murder and arson, must suffer death or leave the State.
"There is nothing in this unwritten law which partook of cynicism or stoicism; neither does it resemble modern puritanism, whose disciples are too often intellectual sophists, powerful to destroy rather than build up. It is the very reverse of the theories of those cynics, ancient and modern, who oppose patriotism and family, and define virtue as the strength to endure privations rather than the conservator of social relations
" In old countries, where caste rules, and in great and popu lous cities peopled chiefly by Anglo-Saxons, such an ' un written law' would be barbarism if enforced. Whether barbarous or not, it is apt to prevail in a new country, peo pled in almost equal numbers by white masters with almost feudal power, and negro slaves who have been elevated by slavery, when war suddenly emancipates them from all re straint. And it is as legitimate for an editor to criticise thus, the murder of George Washburn, as it was for Emer son to write of John Brown as ' a new saint, waiting yet his

B66

ETOWAH.

;;;;;;;

martyrdom, and who, if he shall suffer, will make the gat-.-;:

lows glorious like the cross.'

; ;: !!;

:i Or Thoreau : ' Some eighteen hundred years ago Christ;;

was crucified; this morning, perchance, Captain John Brown.;;

was hung.'

.- ;i

" Or Theodore Parker: ' The road to heaven is as short:;

from the gallows as from the tbrone.'

;

" Yet-' Captain' John Brown \va-s executed by the sover

eign State of Virginia, and Abraham Lincoln endorsed Ma.

execution, and stated that 'Orsini's attempt on the life of;

Louis Napoleon and John Brown's attempt at Harper's

Ferry wero, in their philosophy, precisely the same.'

" Where civil law prevails, such summary proceedings are

at war with civilization; but the safety and honor of our

families aie at stake, and we have no State government and

no legal tribunals to appeal to."

Latane wrote this criticism of the killing of Washburn with a full knowledge and appreciation of the gravity oi the situation and the penalty that might result from the exercise of free speech in. a time of anarchy. The Legisla ture of the State, under military rule, resembled the status of Russian Chinovniks; the agents of the Freedmen's Bu reau, like the Russian Ispravniks, exercised the power of autocrats; and no Russian Stanavois,or Uriadniks, ever acted with more despotic disregard of human rights than did the United States Government detectives in making arbitrary and unjustifiable arrests. The people were determined, how ever, that their social life, at least, should not be regulated by Chinovniks, or officers appointed to administer and execute the laws who were often too ignorant to distinguish civil from criminal law.

367
;;;; Overtures bad been made to Latane by which an ample :;'fortune was assured to him if he would turn traitor to the ;; rights and interests of the people among whom he had lived, ; and I'y whom he was trusted and respected as few young ;: men in the community were; and he asked himself: " What :' are the duties and what is the function of an editor? : : "Is it to make his paper the organ of some corrupt, un
scrupulous politician ? "Is it m-'rely to act as his literary fugleman, and to sup
press one's own manliness by yielding deference and obe dience to a patron ?
" Is it to make money and political office the goal of one's ambition, and t > sell one's principles and sense of honor and self-respect by prostituting the editorial columns to attain them ?
" Is it to be a contemptible ' boot-lick ?' " To all of these self-inquiri> s he answered in the negative, and the result was an independent expression of honest con victions that made his paper the true exponent of the feel ing-1, desires and aspirations of the people. Self preservation, rather than any political platform, made the people stand as a unit politically, for all political ideas had been whelmed in the one thought of preserving the civ ilization to which they had attained, without retrograding toward the semi-barbarism of the newly-emancipated slaves, who were being solidified by aliens and " scallawags " in that political party of which the paper controlled by Mr, Worthy Graball was the exponent.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

: ii

THE ARREST.

;:;;

The day after the publication of his criticism of the-;; tragedy in which George Washburn lost his life, as LatanS;was in the act of entering his office, a sergeant confronted; him with the announcement: " Captain Latane, I regret to; state that you are my prisoner; I am ordered to arrest you."
"Indeed!" said Latane, with ill concealed indignation.: " By whose authority is this outrage committed ? "
" Here are my orders, sir. I know I regret it exceedingly, but I have to obey orders."
"Oh, I don't blame you," said Latane; " I know a soldier must obey orders." He then read the order, signed, not by the post-commander, but by John Hefflm.
" The scoundrel!" he exclaimed; " the robber of dead men on the battle-field, and the cowardly renegade, shall an swer for this. He was a Confederate deserter, as I happen to know."
" No insults and slanders, young man. To have to wear these here iron bracelets is bad enough for a young assassin like you. An action at law for damages against my charac ter is in order afterwards; but 'twon't hardly be necessary, for you'll be strung up by the hangman's rope as sure as my name is--"
" Jonathan Ray!" interrupted Latane. " You infamous scoundrel! I know your history, and in due time will re late it."
" That's not my name," coolly said the detective.

::

ETOWAH.

369

;;. "You gave it as your name when Hugh Leslie caught you : in the act of robbing a dying soldier, Major Tom Moyer, at !: Manassas. You were dressed as a Confederate soldier then,
as you dishonor the Federal uniform now." Hefflin, dressed in costly uniform, and assuming a cynical
; smile, stood with one foot upon one of the elegant chairs and : surveyed the young man coolly from head to foot. Striking a match on the sole of his boot, he proceeded to light a cigar which he took from a cigar-case which he saw lying on the table, and glanced around as if he meant to take posses sion of the premise?, press, cases and all. Then he said, slowly and distinctly : " What you have said is a lie!" blow ing forth a cloud of smoke from the fragrant Habana as he did so, an 1 trying to puff the smoke into Latane's face.
Before the smoke had cleared away Hefflin was prostrate upon the floor, felled by one blow from the stalwart young man, whose boot was on his neck.
Though the blood was flowing from his nose, and he suf fered great pain, Hefflin said :
" Clap 'em on, sergeant; we'll put him in irons." Latane realized his position in a moment, and by a pow erful effort of will said to the soldier : " Sergeant, I yield to you." In a moment the ominous click of the hand-cuffs sounded, and Henry Latane found himself a prisoner. Without war rant, or trial, or the semblance of justice, he walked forth from his own house, chained like a criminal, and as innocent i'i thought and deed of the crime with which he was charged as a new-born babe! The soldiers, under the command of the sergeant, bore Hefflin to the outer air. Eevenge, malice, cruelty, heartless-
24

370

ETOWAH.

";;.

ness and murderous wrath darkened his face as he shook Kiss;;!

clenched fists at the manacled prisoner, thus borne likeaii!

convicted felon through his native town and lodged with::::?

others in the barracks prison.

:::;:

Latan did not deign to notice him, but as he passed by, the ;

sinister countenance of Wellington Napoleon Potts smiled (

with gloating satisfaction, as he saw this scion of an illustri*:;

ous family borne thus to prison.

;

" Dog, am 1 1" said Potts as he passed by; and Latane, re

calling a long forgotten incident--his criticism of the char

acter, or want of character, of Potts, said with emphasis:

"Yes; a contemptible, cowardly hound!"

In his prison cell he reflected upon the results of this as-

sass! nation, for, whatever the attending or extenuating cir

cumstances might be, when a score of men attack a single

man, it can be called nothing else. It seemed revolting to

him, but how could he prove his innocence 1 No charges

had been preferred. Many had been arrested, and they were

confined in separate cells No communication with friends

or counsel was allowed them; and it was known that cir

cumstantial evidence had been deemed sufficient to condemn

to death those who were charged with being the accomplice?

of Booth in the assassination of President Lincoln. Latane

was therefore very agreeably surprised to read in the Radical

paper, owned by Worthy Graball, the following editorial,

which seemed to be inspired by personal regard for him

rather than fealty to his party :

" We are absolutely ignorant concerning the foul murder

of Mr. Washburn, and we have no idea who any of the as

sassins are, but we feel perfectly assured that Captain Lafane

at least is entirely innocent. He is incapable of assassina

tion, or of doing any disreputable act, or of hiding his ac-

|J

ETOWAH.

371

I; lions by the darkness of night. Whether this be a vendetta lixir a political murder, he is certainly innocent, and we say to Si-llie government that the atrocities perpetrated upon free dom citizens in District III. are equal to those which Pope i'-.'Gregory IX. authorized to be visited upon prisoners under I ."form of the Inquisition. Gregory thought his "bishops too ;: indulgent, and gave to the Dominicans the direction of the : Inquisition. The government concludes that its soldiery is; : too indulgent, and to a s t of spies and detectives transfers, : the offices of infamy and the responsibility of torture." Latane thought for a long time of this editorial. What did
it mean? WHS it inspired by Potts? No, for he was certainly league d with Heffiin and Washburn. Was it inspired by the r rosecuting attorney, wh ose creature Graball had been ? If so, li'.: certainly did not wish to see the prisoners executed. Was it the Ku-klux Klan which had slain Washburn ? Or was it the retribution visited upon the murderer of harmless, kindly, brave old Barney ? Latane's reflections took a som bre hue as his thoughts reverted to hi-; own prison experiencj at Johnson's Island.
Thus his note-book described li'e in that Federal prison : "The rations for two hundred men are boiled in one kettle, which will contain only sixty gallons. The ration to each prisoner is one-third of a pound of bread and a piece of meat two inches square; but we have been notified that this 'lowance,' as the darkies say, is to be diminished. Can the report-; of the cruel treatment of the Federal prisoners at Anderson ville be true ? We do not believe them, but we are to suffer for them. Lex talionis by starvation! Never mind! we are making history.
"Everybody is suffering from--the itch. I am constantly reminded of a celebrated chef d'oeuwe by one of the 'Old Mas-

372

ETOWAH.

: ;;;:;

ters,' which is at the Louvre in Paris. It is called ' ?M

Beggar Boy,' and reminds one of the legal aphorism, 'M

a beggar and catch a louse.'

iiiif

Pardon, mes camarades; the same animal, vicarious rasp:

be, that entertains us here would shame his Parisian prois

type. It is the only successful rival of Captain StonablS

'Morgan.' If ' cleanliness is next to godliness'--andwhfissl

cleanliness is these little beasts are not--small chances haysS

we, poor, shivering mortals, for a successful entrance into the;!;

other world.

J;;;;;;;;

Many of us are going there, for the winter is still terribly:::;

cold. Poor fellows without shoes or blankets huddle arouncS!:

the stoves at night and try to sleep. A prisoner, taken from';;;

:my barrack because his feet had become so swollen, died to-;;

day ; mortification had ensued.

.;;-;;;

Our barracks are each 100 feet long by 22 feet wide, andh;

contain three tiers of bunks, platforms of rough plank for;;

sleeping, somewhat like the 'Bagne' at Toulon, France,

where the galley-slaves are chained like wild beasts, and

where each man's name is a number, like'L'776--for example! ;

Yesterday was the coldest day we have had. The hydrants;;

were frozen up, and the men had eaten all the snow.:;;

within the prison. The poor fellows would lie down as closs>: ;

to the 'dead-line' as possible and reach their arms through :

to pull the snow to them.' I saw one of the guards, standing twenty-five steps from a:

prisoner thus engaged, shoot at him three times. Fortunate-:

ly the police-guards are armed with revolvers; had it been a :

rifle that the guard had, the prisoner would have died at the

first fire. As it was, he was not struck, and I could not help

from thinking that the police-guard bad fired wildly pur-:

posely. The prisoners had been captured the week before,

ii:

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|;:ttad just arrived, and were nearly famished for water. Like ;';;;the unfortunates whose thirst is recorded in the 'Ancient :;H:Marmer,' they exclaimed : 'Water, water everywhere, nor any i-iiidrop to drink!' :;::: Have you ever been thus thirsty? Have you ever been Hm the Alkali plains and become so crazed with thirst that i^ver before you, in the clear atmosphere, were the snow-clad Hpeaks which seemed but a few miles distant ? ;;: You toil on, and toil on ; you know that if you can reach :: that mountain and can scale its cliffs--pass the dead-line-- : : that snow means life ! life a thousand times sweeter because ; of the near approach of the gaunt pursuer, Death ! ; Had you a kingdom, you would exchange it, like Dives ^appealing to Lazarus, for 'one drop of water!' to quench the : parched and burning tongue. Those mountains, seemingly so ; near, containing the elixir of life, are hundred of miles dis tant! The snow, lying there almost within reach of these ^;poor prisoners famished for water, suffering with thirst, spreads its beautiful crystals over the broad bosom of the earth, each :.drop of snow a perfect star in form to lead them to safety, like the star of Bethlehem! Covering every hill and dale with its mantle, making each tiny twig on the great trees resplendent with jewels in the bright sunlight, and yet the words 'noli me tangere !' rise like a ghoul before them. Life within reach; death the penalty for reaching after life !
Delirium seizes him who, reckless of life that is a living death, siezes with both hands the life-giving snow and, with the exultant laugh of a maniac, gulps it down, just as the bul let crashes through his brain!
To-day is Sunday. I hear the church-bells with Sabbath chimes calling Chris tians to worship in the neighboring town, Davenport, Iowa.

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I have tasted no food to-day. Great God! men nearly naked : nnd bare-headed and bare-footed, with no bed-clothes, are
exposed to ceaseless torture from the chilly and pitiless winds:
of the upper Mississippi, in a climate where well-clothed sen-;,
tinels are relieved at short intervals to prevent their freezing,:
These men are dying rapidly every day, and not so much;
from cold as from starvation \ Can such be the condition of
prisoners at Andersonville ? I hear the church-bells. I am
very hungry. I have eagerly watched the great gate of the
prison all day, hoping to see the bread-wagon. The church-
bells seem a mockery."'
That was all this note-book contained. How gladly would
he have exchanged his present situation for that thus graphic
ally described!
Meanwhile, a prominent lawyer was at once employed by
Colonel Leslie, who addressed the following letter without
delay to the Judge-Advotate:
"ETOWAH, April 7th. " DEAR SIR--I represent Mr. Ripley, Messrs. William and Columbus Hidell, General Stewart, Mr. T. W. Grieve, Doc tor Kirk, and some others who have been arrested, they know not upon what charge, but suppose that information may have been given at headquarters charging them with ,omplicity in the brutal, and for our town, unfortunate assassina tion of George Washburn. "In this, as in all cases of gross o\i trage, the innocent are apt to suffer for the wrongs of the guilty. The gentlemen whom I have named are above suspicion as being in any way connected with the transaction; several of them are men of family, and if public justice can be satisfied, as I trust it can. by an examination here without taking them from their fami lies, it is very desirable that it should be done. An exami nation, I am sure, would acquit any of them of any partici pation in assassination. "They can give any bond that may be required for their

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appearance, and if you can influence this matter, I hope you will consider it advisable to allow these gentlemen to be bailed until such time as their appearance may be required.
"Your obedient servant,
R. J. MOEEOW." "To General William Bass, Judge Advocate-General."

To this letter the following answer was made :

"HEADQUARTERS THIRD MILITARY DISTRICT,

OFFICE OF JUDGE-ADVOCATE, April 9th.

"Mr. R. J. Morrow, Etowah, Ga:

"DEAE SIR--Yours of the 7th inst. was received this

morning.

"I am directed by the General commanding to reply that

he does not deem it advisable to interfere with the action

of Captain Hefflin. While there is a determination here

that the parties who murdered Mr. Washburn shall, if possi

ble, be arrested and punished, it is hoped that this may be

accomplished without any serious inconvenience to the inno

cent.

"Your obedient servant,

"WILLIAM BASS."

CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE CAENIVAL.
*"0 Venezia/ 0 reina gloriosa del Adriaticaf tu sei il sor~ riso del mondo /"
Thus Venice, thus New Orleans during the carnival. The whole city was in a frenzy of delight. People came from all parts of the United States, from Mexico, from the West In dies, from South America, to witness this magnificent spec tacle in the Crescent City, the Paris of America.
There is no other city like New Orleans. Its French pop ulation are Creoles, many of whom attain old age without having acquaintances in the English-speaking quarters of the city. More exclusive than the aristocratic legitimists of the Faubourg, St. Germain, in Paris, they look down upon those who were so unfortunate as to be born "a I'autre cote,'' as inferior beings. "See Naples and die," they improve upon, by adding "see New Orleans and live!" New Orleans to them was the " French Quarter," and the carnival ruled there in all of its glory. "C'etait une folle melee d'inquisiteurs, de pretres, de polichinelles, et de cicisbei qui mangeaient, buvaient, riaient, dansaient a perdre haleine."
A joyous masquerade of life to the sound of little bells, and tambourines, and flutes, accompanied by such perfect whist ling of the human voice "as never was heard before," to use their enthusiastic words. New Orleans was a city of specta cles, of beautiful women and lovely girls, whose cheeks of red
'' "Oh, Venicel oh, glorious queen ofthe Adriatic! tliou art the smile of the world!"

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and hair of night falling over exquisite snoulderg and busts, riveted the eye of the beholder, which looked and saw again and was never sated as the procession went by, while the lovely girls scattered flowers from the flower wagons. New Orleans was a city of joy and voluptuous pleasures, and seemed on that day to be some enchanted isle, apart from the busy world, a place where one could spend his gold and lose his reason "to heart's content!"
Great crowds thronged the levees of the Mississippi, the father of American waters, and watched a beautiful vessel with sails full-set bearing away before the wind and garlanded with flowers. Those flowers were lovely girls. Now, down the spacious Boulevard comes a vessel which seems a fac simile of the first, and the thousands who had witnessed the first rush forward to see the second. The sails are made of silk; the vessel is an Argosy freighted with rarest perfumes of the Orient and sweetest flowers of the South.
They danced even in the convents as the vessel went by,, and, for once, the convents seemed elegant sanctuaries for vo luptuous fancy rather than the performance of ascetic penances.
The vessel sails down the Canalazzo (Canal street), which is wide as a Parisian Boulevard, and winding as an inverted' S, while the labyrinth of streets opening into it is thronged with delighted observers. The great cathedral forms a brill iant combination of the Gothic and Oriental style of archi tecture. Following the ship came 2,000 gondolas of Venice, representing the varied flora and plants of the earth. Thegondoliers were dres?ed with exquisite taste, the floral deco rations and picturesque costumes being selected from differ ent centuries.
Their dress was as the brimming foam to the sparkling

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champagne; the fragrance to the flower; an indefinite hint of costumes long passed out of date, from which only the picturesque features had been taken and carefully combined with others equally charming. Thus the joyous phases of different epochs were blended on that day of days. The highest mast of the flower-ship represented the famous Cam panile, to which the ascent was made by an inclined plane, where girls represented flowers. The vessel sailed to the cathedral, which represented the Church of San Marco, and .there the lovely crew, led by King Victor Emanuel, were received by the Patriarch of Venice with an imposing retinue.
This represented the triumphal entry of the King of Italy Into Venice in that year. His majesty entered the church, followed by his ministers and court. A grand Te Deum was sung--the Patriarch assisting at the ceremony. On that carnival day government had fallen into powder, and yet there was no rioting or drunken disorder; the laws were ig nored, religion without force, crimes paralyzed by over whelming good nature, life a buffoonery, " the confessional a court of love," the church a spectacle, and hilarity reigned supreme. In the joy of the p >pulace at witnessing this rep resentation of the expulsion of the Austrians from Lombardy, as instanced by the triumphal entry of King Victor Eman aiel into Venice, and his reception at the Church of San Marco, one saw how they would have welcomed the ex pulsion of the Federals from the Crescent City in war days. Among the sea of faces turned to witness this pageant was one whose patrician countenance was marred by a tinge of sadness.
As Julia Bearing looked from the balcony of Mrs. Lagrange's palatial residence and saw the populace sway to and fro until a shout went up that shook the air of: "Vive Beau-

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regard 1 Vive le grand General!" she buried her face in her hands and retired for a few moments overwhelmed with grief. She echoed that cry with all the earnest fervor of her patri otic nature, and felt a grand exultation as she involuntarily exclaimed:
"Yes! long live our noble soldiers!" Then the revulsion came like a great gust, as thought oi the stormy past borne on the wings of memory passed like lightning through her brain. And then, recalling her pres ent position, she resumed her place on the balcony and calmly looked at the multitude passing by. In the midst of this round of spectacular follies, she alone seemed to lie able to enjoy without being frantic and to feel a sympathy wide as the human race and far reaching as poverty itself. Thus were her thoughts as Emile LaGrange, dressed in cos tume suited to t'.e day and occasion, stepped upon the bal cony from the great parlor-window and said: "Miss Julia, I have left my place for the first time in my life on Carnival day--even mother did not know me as I (ntered the house. I saw you here looking so superbly lovely that I could not resist the temptation to come up; I wish you to go with me to the masquerade to-night. The Opera House will represent La Fenice of Venice, and the ball will be the most brilliant ever known. Will you go with me? Do not refuse. I will be so proud of you that I will make all the fellows envious, for I swear to you, you are the most beautiful girl in New Orleans. Please go!" This speech was uttered with Creole vivacity, including all the orthodDx French shrugs and gestures; and Julia would have declined peremptorily, but f )r the pleading look and tone of the last sentence. Evidently nothing that she could do could persuade him that he was not hopelessly in love.

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"Mr. LaGrange, I would go -with you with pleasure, if I were going in society at all, but you forget that I am ia mourning. I hope you will excuse me without being offended w'th me; besides, I have never been to a masquerade ball in my life."
''Miss Julia, you are not a Chinese girl to wear sackcloth and ashes two years; two months is long enough, unless L( nt happens to come along in time to make it forty days more."
"Mr. LaGrange! If you have no respect for my father's memory, you have none for me--I cannot go."
Julia said this with a look and tone not to be misunder stood. No duchess could look more imperious, or speak with greater decision than she did then.
" Miss Julia, forgive me--you know I would not say any thing to wound your feelings. You know that I worship the very sound of your voice. Don't speak to me that way-- I'll do anything on earth for you, and you know it! If you don't go, I won't'."
The effeminate youth said this with an injured tone and manner, as if his refusal to attend the carnival ball would make Julia miserable. She was about to reply to him in a soothing manner, for she liked the young man as she would a spoiled child who was attached to her, when Mrs. LaGrange entered and exclaimed indignantly:
"Emile, I am ashamed of you! would you disgrace me, right here before all the world, by addressing such language to a governess? A woman who teaches your sisters!"
" Yes, mother, I would go to hell on her account, if I did not know that I would not find her there! She is good and sweet and beautiful enough to be an angel, and much too good for you or me! If you say another word against her

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in my presence, I will leave this bouse and home and kick the dust off my feet!"
Jxilia, her cheeks crimson with mortification, had hastily letired, but, thinking that this would create the impression ihat she had encouraged the young gentleman to make this .avowal, she quickly returned.
Mrs. LaGrange was never equal to a contest with her "darl ing Emile," as she called him, and on this occasion she sank hysterically in a chair and said, UI wish I was dead!"
"Mrs. LaGrange," said Julia in a voice that was singu larly calm and sweet in its intonation, "I think I had best leave your service now ; I am sure I regret this avowal upon .the part of your son, who, I know will forget it in a few days and laugh at his self-deception as much as you can possibly regret it. I will go to my room and pack my trunk at once, and will be ready to leave to-morrow morning, or earlier, if necessary."
Mrs, LaGrange's sobs grew more violent as she said discon nectedly, "And you are going to leave me, too ! Not con tent with robbing me of my son's affections, you mean to encourage him to leave me by going away, and who knows what will happen then ?" and the mother's grief seemed inconsolable. Emile had left the house in a passion.
"Mrs. LaGrange, I know what will not happen," said Julia, stung to anger by the repeated and unjust insinuation ; '"your son will never cause you any more trouble on my account, for if he was the last man on earth, I would not many him! "
The instinct of offended dignity made Julia's manner and voice seem imperious which dictated conditions, rather than the anger of a woman iitterly dependent upon the precarious pursuit of a governess for her support. The selfish egotism

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of a woman of the vvorld, who prized nothing so much as social distinction, based on wealth, impelled Mrs. LaGrange to look up with wonderment and ill concealed vexation. It was true that Julia had already told her that Emile had de clared his affection for her, but she had hoped the passion was temporary and would disappear with many that had preceded it. This incident, however, looked serious, for Mrs. LaGrange had not heard Julia's refusal to accompany Emile to the ball. Evidently Julia had great expectations of a future secured by other sources than her own efforts, or she would not be so independent and willing to leave at a mo ment's notice. She determined to conciliate her, and at least gratify her curiosity as to her history, for surely no other governess had ever seemed like Julia Dealing, who seemed to rise in stature as she looked up at the superb beauty, whose thin nostrils and flashing eyes told her she was in the pres ence of one infinitely superior to herself.
The ceremony over at the cathedral, the grand procession moved again. But how all was changed. Down the Espla nade, Rampart and Claiborne streets, and up Canal street again; past the temple Sinai of the Israelites with its tinted cupolas ; past the ten public squares statued with Clay, Jack son and other Southern statesmen, while the eleven thousand fountains danced their gems a-toss in the sunlight, rolled the pageant of shrove Tuesday. jSTow the procession illustrates scenes from classic fable. We will not recount the scene which passed between Mrs. LaGrange, in which Julia, moved by her sympathetic nature, agreed to reconsider her first de termination to leave at once, even if she had to sacrifice her salary! "Better that than the sacrifice of self-esteem," thought the proud girl, as she left the parlor and went to her room where she remained.
The festivities of the last hours of Mardi G-ras had lost all

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383*

charm for her now. The very beauty a.nd charms of mind and person, which she had so valued in more prosperous: days, seemed to her now a heritage fatal to happiness. What was life to one so gifted, so social in her tastes, when shecould not "like" a gentlemen without being unjustly cen sured? "Why are men such simpletons as to fall in love with a pretty face or figure when they are told, time after time, that you cannot, try you ever so much, reciprocatethe attachment? Men are all geese, I do believe!'' said Julia, as she closed the book which she had tried ineffectu ally to become interested in. Then she thought of Barnum, and of his neglect of her, and of his former devotion, and wondered whether his conduct would have been different if he had known that there was one man whom she "liked" more than all others. She was not willing yet to confess toherself that she loved Colonel Barnum.
Mrs. LaGrange, on the other hand, was, in ten minutes, as much absorbed as she had been before the interview. Her whole soul seemed to be in the procession, the head of which now approached the stately mansion. Her eyes danced with delight and sundry "oh's," and gestures, and shrugs denoted her intense pleasure.
"There were the horses" said a journal of the day with tropical extravagance, " with regal trappings, glittering with gold and purple--palaces and thrones, and pavilions, and iableaus, rolled by gods and goddesses, furies and gorgong. Agamemnon and Jupiter, Neptune and Mercury, and Momus and the Trojan horse, and regiments in gleaming mail and with shouldered battle-axes, until day and night dance with the jollity and flame with the splendor of hundreds of thou sands of people at the utmost of exhilaration."
"One great rousing holiday, fifty Fourth of July's sounding in one salvo; fifty Christmases twisted into one garland "

CHAPTER XXXV.
NOBLESSE OBLIGE.
The prosecuting attorney saw his friends falling away from him like leaves dropping before the cold winds of win ter, but none could know what were his feelings from that sphinx-like face which retained its cold, passionless look in spite of the storm of hate that seemed eager to sweep him away from the face of the earth. He was greeted like an Ishmaelite. Was he a renegade or a hero? He volunteered no excuses, and thus he commanded respect for courage; he made no complaint and uttered no criticism. Like the prisoners, he, too, was on trial--on trial before that higher law which hath said, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."
The accused had been his soldiers! He could not have been human had he failed to sympa thize with them, however equivocal his present attitude ap peared. His own life and liberty seemed suspended by a thread which the Parca3 of fate might cut in twain. Was he, like Danton, to dishonor his great reputation by becom ing particeps criminis to a murder of innocent men ? Under Dan ton's rule of terror the guillotine became a f uniliar ob ject throughout France. Danton had shed b'.ood systemati cally, and not from cruelty. As saon as he should be con vinced that terror was no longer necessary, he would counsel moderation. Was this man acting from similar motives, and would he persist to the end? He resembled Mirabeau in that it was he who decided the revolution which took

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(his State out of the Union. Could he, like Mirabeau, claim that, although he had received considerable sums, he acted with conviction, because he foresaw the coming catastrophe ? Or were his apologists correct in asserting that he had the double motive of desiring to quell lynch-law and at the (ame time shield the prisoners ?
Like Robespierre, he affected the purest patriotism, and was noted for his fidelity to the interests of his numerous satellites; and, like Robespierre, he had been known as " the incorruptible" when he stood as the oracle of the people.
Now, " none were so poor as to do him reverence." He had precipitated a war, like Danton; had profited by ad versity and by turning his back upon the convictions of a lifetime, like Mirabeau; and, during the trying ordeal which these prisoners were now undergoing, he was as mild-man nered as a parson, but apparently acted as heartlessly in the cross-examination to which he subjected the witnesses for the defence as did Richelieu when he beheaded Cinq Mars and the young De Thou.
There was no ignominy in dying for one's country on the battle-field, but conviction now meant a felon's death on the scaffold. These men had been hi-; soldiers, and had faced death in honorable warfare on a score of great battle-fields.
As these thoughts flashed across his mind, Barnum asked himself: " Is such a man likely to condemn to death these prisoners? Is he using the Judge-Advocate, 'the military court, the detective?, the army which conquered this State and arrested him as the most prominent State prisoner in it, but a few months since--is he using all these men and in strumentalities as men of putty to be fashioned according to his will ?" But he rejected this hypothesis as contrary

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to the ethics of the legal profession. "For," he reasoned, " from Zoroaster to Confucius, or Mahomet to the Kuran, or : Plato to the Codes of Justinian, or from Justinian to the nao-t recent code of laws of modern times, one will seek in vain for license thus to prostitute a noble profession."
Such were Colonel Barnum's reflections as he approached the home of his old friend, formerly so buoyant and elastic in temperament, now bowed down with anxiety and care.
At three-score years and ten how many of the friends of youth are left? The circle grows narrower and narrower with each succeeding year, and the aged heart summons all its strength and devotes it to the two or three, or more or less, about the hearth-stone. To Colonel Leslie, life seemed now centered on Clara and Henry Latane, and, by sym pathy, to all the prisoners charged with the murder of George Washburn. And Colonel Barnum seemed to comprehend his feelings intuitively.
"Xoblesse oblige!" he had said to himself, as he read that startling telegram, which caused him to forego the dearest wish of his life, the finding of Julia Bearing and offering her the protection of his strong arm, and the devotion of his staunch loyal heart as long as life shall last.
"But--'noblesse oblige!' I must save the life of him whose young wife saved my own," said Barnum, as he quickly decided to return to Etowah at once.
Reader, you who are happily married, or you, who can recall the arrival of a }roung father from the army who has never seen his first-born, though the child is a, prattling thing six months old, to whose wondering eyes (he mighty world grows bigger every day--have you ever seen a supremely happy young wife suddenly smitten by the arrest of her husband, who is incarcerated in jail, charged with

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i If you have, you can appreciate Clara Latane's misery; for, not only had Henry Latane been arrested, but he had been
I borne away to the distant capital city, and the summary ': (rial by military ordf r was actually progressing.
At the earnest entreaty of Henry Latane, his young wife and her father had returned home, until the witnesses for the defence should be summoned.
And now, as Colonel Barnum approaches the stately old home, the moss hanging in festoons from the old oaks in thelawn seemed to foretoken the gloom which overshadowed that home.
But, to his surprise, he found Colonel Leslie overwhelmed, while Clara seemed calm and almost serene in her efforts to comfort her aged father. But her outward calmness waslike the quiet of the waters of the lake before the flood-gates are opened. In the quiet privacy of her chamber the rushing flood of grief was all the greater because seen only by the All-seeing eye,
"God! what a woe it is! How can I bear it?" The white, rounded arms are uplifted pleadingly; the beauteous, teardimraed face looks upward in appealing prayer io the Lord God of Hosts! But now she hears again, and hearing heeds the ceaseless step of the good old man. who, but a few short month sago, could not bear to hear Latane's name mentioned. And hardly had she dried her tears and assumed a cheerful manner and linked her arm in his, when Colonel Barnum approached the mansion at Thronateeska.
At this juncture they heard a step on the veranda, and turning, saw Colonel Barnum, who advanced to meet them. His greeting was cordial, and his hand-clasp firm, as he thus sought to cheer them by his presence.

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"You are very kind and very prompt, Colonel Barnum; I did not think you could get here so soon."
"I came immediately on the receipt of your telegram; such matters admit of no delay."
"Very true; walk into the library." After a few minutes' conversation, in which he gave all the information he had concerning the search for Julia Bearing in New Orleans, Clara withdrew. <lThis is an ugly business, Colonel Leslie; I hope for the best, but I fear the worst. I have tried to look impartially .since I have been in the South since the end of the war, and I can see things in a different light from yourself. Please give me your version of this unfortunate affair." Colonel Leslie replied as briefly as possible, and requested Colonel Barnum to express himself with perfect frankness. "I cordially wish that we may bo able to liberate your friends, for several of them are mine also, but it will be a difficult task, and it will take time." " I can swear that Captain Latane was in this room at 12 o'clock the night when the killing of Washburn occurred," said Colonel Leslie. " That is fortunate. We instinctively know that he could have had no part in the assassination, but it will take a strong alibi to clear him. His name seems to be more prom inently mentioned than the others." "How long do you think it will be before they will be tried ?" asked Colonel Leslie. "I cannot tell; but it is out of the question to forestall the action of the court-martial. The trial will take its course." "What shall we do meanwhile ?" " I propose to go to Washington, see the President and some influential friends that I have in Congress, and endeavor

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: to arouse public sentiment against trial by military courts in time of peace. I would like to take a petition with me." "Nothing is easier than to get one. When the prisoners were first arrested, they were released on bond of $50,000-- over one thousand names being on the bond." "A copy of that bond will answer; nothing can better show the probable innocence of the majority of the prisoners. While an arrest should have followed, more discretion should have been used. But, my dear sir, there is too much vio lence in the South; the newspapers are filled with reports of 'ku-klux' out ages continually, and public sentiment in the North demands that it shall cease." "Colonel Barnum, I appreciate too well your motives in undertaking the difficult mission which you now assume to indulge in idle argument. I know you do it at personal loss, if not at personal risk; but it is necessary that you
should appreciate the situation as we see it in order that you may properly influence your friends. Now, you com plain of the ku-klux; while I know no one who belongs to that organization, if it be an organization, let me ask you to what tribunal our people can a.ppeal in case of outrage and crime ?"
"To the law." " You forget "that we have no courts that are recognized. The State itself is not recognized except as a conquered prov ince. We have neither judges, juries nor courts. A year has passed since the war ended. The condition of the peo ple is worse than it was during the war. In the field they met open enemies only; now they are oppressed by pre tended friends; the military power ought to be their safe guard and protection, but it is turned into an engine of op pression."

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" That is lamentably true," replied Barnum, " but I be- lieve that they are doing the best that they can with the ; lights that are before them, and I have an abiding conviction ; that the hero of Gettysburg will never sully his reputation by exceeding the bounds of justice."
"I trust that you may be correct, my young friend; but I have serious doubts. The Federal general sent by the President to report upon the ' loyalty' of the people of the Southern States landed in New York as a German immi grant to the United States in 1855--just six years before the war between the States began. All his life he had been a conspirator against the government to which he owed alle giance, and he was a political exile until he emigrated to America. After six years' residence he became a soldier and a general of division in the Union army; and he, a foreigner by birth, education and tastes, is esteemed a patriot, while Henry Latane, whose family have besn loyal citizens of Vir ginia and this State for over a century and a half, is pro nounced a traitor!"
Colonel Barnum retained his calm, polite demeanor in an admirable manner, and wisely decided to allow the old gen tleman to exhaust his indignation without furnishing fuel to it in the way of needless argument."
"Why, sir," continued Colonel Leslie, "the arrests were made without warrant, affidavit or charge. I know of no parallel case to it, except the arrests of Nihilists in Russia, and the State prisoners imprisoned in the Bastile in Paris during the dark days of tyranny in France. Like them, these young men have been cast into prison, without accu sation or trial, on a simple lettre de cachet, and their final fate no one can predict. It fatigues the indignation!
"In imperial France, or despotic Russia, such arrests can

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j\l be made under the forms of civil law, for there, detectives |i; constitute the essence of criminal trials, but it is contrary I:' to the spirit of American institutions to arrest people thus II by an order from the war department, and it will fail, as it I- ought to fail!" ;" "Then you do not believe these young men will be coni victed?"
"Of that I cannot express an opinion. I was educated at West Point, and I have studied civil law. The very fact :' which you allege concerning the insecurity of human life now is the best argument to show the necessity of providing for the trial of accused persons through the civil courts. The military are, and will ever be, an unsafe depositary for the legal relations of citizens. Their province is to command, not to give reasons for their orders. Not so with the civilian; when sitting as a judge, he is confined to precedents in every decision which he announces. With the latter, the property, the liberty, the life of the citizen is comparatively safe. The military act upon emergencies, and the rapidity of their action precludes the due consideration which justice to the accused demands. "The courts, on the.other hand, are calm, careful, deliber ate. Their rules of evidence allow everything which can be brought before the court in exculpation of the accused. Mili tary law seizes only a few salient points, and on these a judgment is rendered. During a war there is necessity for its exercise, but in times of peace when there is no armed force against the government, and no hostility manifested by the citizens against the civil law, military rule is a con stant source of irritation. "The South is well-nigh paralyzed by the military parasites which it is compelled to support."

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Then, recalling the disinterested object of Barmiin's visit | he changed his tone and said: "I speak to you, not as to an 1 officer whose amour propre I would wound, but as to a citi- : zen of the great Republic, who is now anxious to see a nation- j al spirit supersede that of allegiance to the State. I trust ; that you may succeed. If Congress could see the results of : the war as the President and the Secretary of State see it, this spirit would grow; if the contrary policy is adopted, this century will pass away before the bitterness engendered will totally expire."
"Do not you think the North as a people, and the United States as a government, have dealt magnanimously with the Southern people ?" asked Barnum.
"Unquestionably--nothing in modern history will equal it up to the period that these prescriptive meaures were introduced in Congress. It resembled the act of ancient Eome, which proclaimed, instantly upon the close of civil war, unqualified amnesty for all, and no triumph was de creed to the victors. It seems a pity that mere politicians shall be allowed to mar that magnificent record."
Colonel Leslie then handed to Barnum the order conven ing the military court to try the prisoners. It was as fol lows :
"HEADQUARTERS THIRD MILITARY DISTRICT.
Special orders. No. 136. [Extract.] ****** "II. A Military Commission is hereby appointed to
assemble at ---- barracks, at ten o'clock a. m. on Monday, the 29th of June, for the trial of such prisoners as may be brought before it by orders from these headquarters. The Commis sion will sit without regard to hours."
Then follows the detail for the Commission, embracing three brigadier-generals, two colonels and two majors, and concluding with the announcement that "the assistant judge-

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advocate general of the army is appointed judge-advocate of the commission," ending with the words, "by order of the Major General commanding.

"Official: W, W. BANDERS,

R. C. Bass,

A. A. I. a.

A. A. G.

After carefully reading it, Barnum returned it to Colonel Leslie, saying :
"There is a class of 'patriots' in the land who wave the 'broody shirt' as constantly, remorselessly and unscrupu lously now. as they were assiduous in keeping out of danger during the war. In the eyes of men of this class defeat is the most heinous of crimes, success the sublimest of virtues, and the acquisition of riches the acme of human effort. We have many such, and your Mr. Welling ton Napoleon Potts seems a striking exemplification of it here. I shall see the President and the Secretary of War and endeavor to open their eyes to the real facts." Thus bidding Colonel Leslie farewell, the young officer retired.

CHAPTEK XXXVI.
AN AMERICAN SOVEREIGN.
Colonel Barnum had been in Washington two weeks, and he had exhausted all efforts to befriend the Etowah prisoners now on trial for their lives. Fate was kinder to him than it had been, inasmuch as he was required to re main on duty in Washington, and could not, therefore, be present at the trial.
But one more hope remained, and that was to interest the President of the United States, who had so narrowly escaped assassination at the hands of Atzeroth.
But the week before he had witnessed the hanging of Mrs. Surratt, charged with being an accomplice in the mur der of President Lincoln. She had been convicted on purely circumstantial evidence, and the American heart revolts at the hanging of a woman. How slender, then, seemed the chances in favor of the Etowah prisoners now being tried by a military commission. He shuddered as he mentally saw again the dreadful scene where Mrs. Surratt, Payne and Atzeroth were hung.
There they stood on the scaffold. The sun cast down its burning rays and despair, like an angel of gloom, shrouded the faces of the condemned. There they stood on the scaffold, that sultry July day, until the dread signal was given that launched them into eternity. One, a woman convicted on purely circumstantial evidence, looked up

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; . at the scaffold with a bewildered gaze, and then turned : with intense anguish to the multitude before her.
A shudder, like an electrical current of sympathy, passed through that vast crowd.
During the reading of the order for her execution, two priests held crucifixes before her eyes but she seemed to see them not; then suddenly she kissed the crucifixes fer vently and closed her eyes in prayer. Her arms were pinioned, her bonnet was removed, and a white cloth was tied around the skirts of her dress below the knees. The rope was then placed around her neck and her face was covered with a white cap reaching down to her shoulders. Standing near her was Colonel Barnum an unwilling, but in the line of military duty, a necessary spectator. The multitude looked on with the deepest sympathy; but in unison with the people around him Barnum's attention was now diverted to another, whose striking personal ap pearance dignified even the criminal. He was said to be the son of a minister in Florida, but now his name was announced as Lewis Payne. He seemed unmoved by the awful fate in store for him, and looked as defiant and fear less as did Robert Emmet-t on the scaffold. With eagle eyes he looked down on the multitude, as if death was but a momentary spectre to be brushed away at will. There was an unmistakable commotion as this remarkably hand some man walked to his death without a tremor, and de clined politely all assistance. JSTo man among all the spectators looked less like a criminal than did Lewis Payne, and it seemed impossible to associate him with a petty purpose or the malice of an assassin. Was he crazy,

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like John Wilkes Booth ? His perfect calmness and selfpossession was retained to the last. He glanced curiously at the scaffold, then fixed his eye on the line of soldiery as if he would give the command " fire !" and thus order his own execution.
No one knew him, or where he came from; and the deep mystery of his career has not been revealed to this day. But all felt that there ended a career fitted for better things and nobler acts; and yet that this splendid will power had been wofully misguided.
The gentle-hearted but heroic Lincoln could not be charged with the unprovoked murders in the South, aad the scales of justice in his firm hands leaned to mercy and conciliation. When, at the zenith of his fame, he was stricken down by the hands of the assassin, a sympathy for the vanquished South was changed to a frenzied hatred. Hence the hanging of this woman, and hence the deep anxiety of Colonel Barnum concerning the fate of the Etowah prisoners.
It had seemed to him that fate was unkind in requiring, of all men, his presence at this scene. He felt that his self-imposed mission was doubly difficult now, since VicePresident Johnson had narrowly escaped assassination at the hands of Atzeroth, and had been thus elevated to the Presidency.
In troops these thoughts rushed across his brain, as he awaited an interview with one of the simplest mannered men on earth, and yet, one of the most powerful of earth's potentates.
A monarch for four years of a country so vast that it

ETOWAH.

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;: rivals in territory and population ancient Rome and all of its Provinces. Mr. Gladstone has admirably described in one of his essays, the isolation which the custom of cen turies imposes on English royalty. 'l To be served by all is dangerous ; to be contradicted by none is worse. Taking into view the immense in crease in the appliances of material ease and luxury, the general result is that in the private and domestic sphere a royal will enjoys at this epoch, more nearly than in any past generation, the privileges of a kind of omnipotence. At the same time, the principal burden of care and all re sponsibility for acts of administration, and for the state of the country, is transferred to the heads of others, and even the voice of the lightest criticism is rarely heard." The hereditary monarch of Great Britain and Ireland, can be approached by her subjects, only through the cere monious channels of royal etiquette. The President of the United States, at the time of which we write, did not aspire even to Carlyle's respectability that " keeps a gig," said a critic of this President who had so narrowly escaped assassination at the hands of Atzeroth. The President of the United States, unlike the crowned
heads of Europe, can be approached by the humblest citi zen of the Republic, No gilt-covered lackeys, no fawning courtiers clad in the habiliments of office, no august cere monial is necessary to give one the entree to the salon of the Chief Magistrate of the United States. Clad as a sim ple citizen, seated at his desk laboriously looking over the papers presented for his signature, this President, who began his manhood as a tailor in a small town in the State

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;S;;

of Tennessee, extended his hand with a kindly greeting afc*| the earnest young officer entered the room. From the:;:; great windows he could see the broad bosom of the Poto-: ;; ; mac, and the green lawn about the White House, and the;:: thronged streets, in the vicinage. Otherwise the Presi- : dent's domestic and official life seemed like that of any ; man of affairs immersed in business cares. Determination ; was traced in every lineament, but underneath it all was a rugged honesty and kindliness which bespoke him the man of the people.
He was popularly called " the man with the backbone," owing to his sturdy defence of the constitutional rights of the States, and his stubborn contest with the majority in Congress. He had vetoed the Civil Rights Bill, and Congress passed it over his veto. He had vetoed the Con stitutional Amendments, one after the other, and Congress had preferred articles of impeachment.
They had failed, as he had failed; for when the popular mind of America is fully enlightened, the verdict of the people, in the long run, is apt to be right.
After the usual salutations, Colonel Barnum related the incidents already narrated, and asked the President if he could suggest any method of relief.
" No; I am powerless in this matter. It is my duty to see that the laws are executed, not to shield criminals," answered the President. *
" But these gentlemen are not criminals," urged Colonel Barnum.
" That may be true ; I don't know. But the imperative duty of Congress is to re-admit the States to the exercise

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: of all their sovereign functions, and let the State courts handle this matter."
"But they are being tried by court-martial." " Certainly, there are no civil tribunals there to which they can be referred, and the responsibility must rest with Congress." "But Congress seems under the domination of preju dice. May I read to you, Mr. President, a few sentences uttered in the Senate yesterday by a leading Senator ?" The President tacitly assented, and Barnum read as follows: " Gentlemen here have said you must not humble these people. Why not ? Do they not deserve humiliation ? If not, who does ? What criminal, what felon, deserves it more, sir? They have not yet confessed their sins; and He who administers mercy and justice never forgives un til the sinner confesses his sins and humbles himself at His footstool. Why should we forgive more than He ? But we are told we must take them back as equal brothers. I shall not agree that they shall come back except as sup plicants in sackcloth and ashes, and if they undertake to come here we will shoot them. Let not these friends of Secession sing to me their siren song of peace and good will until they can stop my ears to the groans of these dying victims. I hold in my hand an elaborate account from a man whom I believe to be of the highest respecta bility, every word of which I believe. This account of that foul transaction is more horrible in its atrocity, though not to the same extent, than the massacre at Jamaica. Gentlemen tell us this section is too strong; too strong for what ? Too strong for their stomachs, but not for the

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people. It is too lenient for my hard heart. Not only to

1870, but to 18070, every rebel who shed the blood of:

loyal men should be prevented from exercising any power

in this Government. That would even be too mild a pun- .;

ishment for them."

i

The " gentleman of the highest respectability " to whom :

this Senator referred was none other than Wellington

Napoleon Potts. The crime alluded to was the murder of

George Washburn. Barnum had taken this opportunity

to read these words from the newspaper, and the President

smiled as he thought of the shrewdness with which this

young officer thus offered his arguments. The President

remained silent, and Barnum continued:

I entered the army, Mr. President, with the conviction

that I was fighting for the restoration of the Union. I

drew my inspiration from the words of President Lincoln:

4 If I could save the Union by freeing every slave I would

do it; if I could save the Union by refusing to free a sin

gle slave I would do that.' I consider that in view of the

Constitution and the laws, the Union is unbroken."

" Mr. Lincoln was right," said the President. " He of

fered to receive the whole Legislature of Richmond--a

rebel Legislature--and would have welcomed them with

open arms. Would he have refused to receive these

States, now that they have fully submitted ?"

" Why, if they had offered to come back, or any of them,

during the rebellion, should we have turned them away

on the ground that they had placed themselves out of the

Union ? The very thing which we said these Southern

States could never do, which we fought these four years

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;! to prevent them doing, these men affirm that they have : actually done, viz.: been out of the Union. The Southern : States are ready to come back upon our terms, take loyal ; oaths, and acknowledge their allegiance, but these men ; say they shall not."
"Their object is manifest. They know perfectly -well that when the South comes back into Congress their day of power is over."
" I agree with you fully, Mr. President, and I greatly fear that procrastination will intensify the discontent which is permeating the Southern States, until such mur ders as that with which these gentlemen are charged will become too numerous to quell except by a large standing army. I do not think that there can ever be justification for lynch law where the civil law is in force. But martial law prevails there, and we know too well what that means, even though the officers are animated by the best mo tives."
The President signified his assent to these views by bow ing in silence. Then he added " Congress represents the States, but the men who voted for Congressmen all voted in my election. I am like the tribunes elected by the Eoman people; I am to stand and represent their interests, the interests of all the States."
"The old issues of slavery and State sovereignty are dead and buried, and the party which now rules may be stripped of power. Their talk about philanthropy and benevolence to the negro means nothing more than a de sire to work upon the feelings of the North, so that they
26

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may be able to carry everything their own way. It is a |

renewal of the old conflict. Each side was willing to sac- ::

rifice the Government in order to gain its object before :

the rebellion broke out. The South struck fli st; the re- i

bellion was subdued at the Southern end of the line, and ;

now it is swinging round to the other end.

;

"The Radical party is almost ready to go into rebellion

again rather than have their supremacy destroyed by the

re-introduction of the South. They know nothing practi

cally of the real state of the South. The very man who

drew up the Civil Rights Bill, what are his means of judg

ing ? I left him in the Senate during the war, and went

out to Tennessee and saw it all, and bore my share of the

troubles. He stopped at home, and now endeavors to make

his theories square into the events of the war, and legislate

on ideas which he has never put to the test. He is as un

reasonable as an old magistrate in Tennessee used to be:

old Jim McGinnis was a magistrate there before the war,

and one day when a case about the hire of a negro came

up before him, he would'nt let the lawyer read from Green-

leaf on evidence because Greenleaf lived in Boston.

' What does he know about the hire of a nigger ?' said he.

' He never owned one, nor hired one, nor lived where

there was one, and he don't know no more about 'em than

the man in the moon.' "

Barnum smiled as he heard this humorous illustration

and said:

" I think the country appreciates your efforts to represent

the interests of the whole country, Mr. President."

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The President's face assumed a grave expression as he answered:
" I hope they do. What other objects can I have than to represent those interests--the interest of our common coun try? I have no selfish interests to promote, I have gone the whole giddy round from Alderman upward, and I do not value this office (here the President spoke with great earn estness and feeling) except for the good which it may enableme to do. I want but a corner of this house to live in, and I do not care a bawbee, as the Scotch say, for all the restLet me but see the country at harmony and peace, how gladly would I give up all. We think," he added these words with a smile, "this is a great position. With our ideas we are educated to do so; but I can assure you that I am often here twelve hours a day without it ever occurring; to me that I am President." He evidently meant, without the pride of power occurring to him.
And Colonel Barnum left him without having secured any promise of relief, or any indication of his purpose. The Pres ident,had turned the conversation to public affairs in a gen eral way, scarcely alluding to the particular object of Colonel Barnum's visit.
Yet he left with the conviction that all would be done that could be done in behalf of the prisoners, by this strong-willed man, who had been scorned and ostracized as a traitor by the whole South during the war, and was now the target for the malice and hate of all the Jacobins in Congress, who saw in him a stumbling block and a barrier to the realization of their revolutionary aims.
But the leaders in Congress were Radicals as bold and tenaeious as was the President, and the situation seemed critical

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in the extreme for the unfortunate prisoners, as the details!!

of the trial given below will indicate.

iiiil

The Judge Advocate stated that it would be necessary fee!

each of the accused to plead separately to the charge and:!

specification. The accused were then severally asked by tMI

Judge Advocate how they pleaded to the charge and specife!;

cation which was read to them yesterday. The accused thea:|

severally pleaded as follows : -

Hs

To the specification, "Not Guilty."

:!:

To the charge, "Not Guilty."

1

'The examination of the witnesses for the prosecution had!

^consumed two weeks. Among them were two whose testi-::

mony would certainly prove fatal to many if not all of the!

accused, unless rebutted.

^

The first was a Federal soldier; the second an ex-policeman,

both of whom had turned State's evidence.

EXAMINED BY THE JUDGE-ADVOCATE.

Charles Carshall, a witness for the prosecution, was then

called, and having been duly sworn, testified as follows :

Q. What is your name, your age, and your occupation ?

A. Charles Carshall; age, twenty-seven ; occupation, sol

dier.

Q. In what service are you a soldier, how long have you;

been in that service, and to what company do you belong ?

A. The United States service; in that service since 1861;

belong to Company G. of the 16th Infantry.

Q. Where have you been on duty during the last year?

A. In the city of Etowah.

Q. Were you acquainted with George Washburn, late of

Etowah?

..

'

;

A. Yes, sir.

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;?;;; Q. Were you present at his death. ? W-' A. Yes, sir. a: .Q. Did he die a natural death, or death by violence? :;:: A. By violence, sir. ;:; Q. State how you came to be present at his death ? H: A: I was induced to go there, sir. :: Q. Who induced you to go there? State all the circum:; stances attending the death of Washburn, so far as you know ! them. : A. I was first spoken to about it, about three weeks before : {heaffair took place. I had another interview about three : days before it took place. The night that the affair took ;: place I went down there between the hours of half past ; eleven and twelve, as near as I can judge; I met the party that
committed the deed; we then crossed the street. Arrived at the house occupied by George Washburn, one of the party asked for admission : there was no reply and some one then knocked at the door; the answer came from the inside,. "Who is there? What do you want?" The party outside made answer and said : " If you don't let me in I'll break the floor down." The panel of the door was then broken and the door opened. As soon as the door was broken open, the party entered, and as they did so Mr. Washburn asked, " Who comes there ?" and then they opened the door and stepped back. There was a round table in the middle of the room and a light was on the table. Wr ashburn was behind the table at that time, his pistol grasped in his hand, which heraised and fired. The firing was returned by our party. As soon as the firing ceased he fell. There were from ten to fourteen shots fired altogether, as near as I can recollect. After that was over, I went out of the house immediately, and proceeded to my quarters.

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Q. Did you get notice when the " affair," as you call it, was to take place ?
A. Yes, sir. Q. How, when and where did you get that notice? A. At my quarters, a little before three o'clock, on the afternoon of the 30th, the day it took place; it was brought to ine by a negro boy. Q. Brought how ? A. It was wrapped up in a piece of brown paper; there was a mask with writing on a piece of paper on the inside of it; the writing stated, " meet to-night at twelve o'clock." Q. What has become of that writing? A. I tore it up, sir, as soon as I read it. Q. State, if you remember, what that writing contained? A. " Meet to-night at twelve o'clock," sir. Q. Did you know the negro boy who left the bundle, ag you have said ? A. I did not, sir; I had.never seen him before. Q.. What kind of a mask was it ? A. An ordinary false-face, sir; made out of pasteboard. Q. Was there any signature to the notice which you say you received ? A. No, sir. Q. Did you know the handwriting? A. No, sir. Q. Did you go into the house, you have described, the night Washburn was killed ? If so, state when you entered, and what other person, if any, went in with you? A. I did, sir; sometime near midnight; the parties that went in with me are those that I have mentioned as being among the accused now on trial here. There were others

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: there, but those I could not recognize, and don't know who : they are; there were from twenty to thirty in the party. i Q. Are you certain and positive that you saw Luke, Har; ber and Hodson, the accused now before you, in the house
when Washburn was killed that night ? A. I did not see them all in the house; I saw some in the
house, and some outside. Q. Which were in, and which out ? A. Luke, Hodson and Harber were inside they were in
the door leading out of the second room into the third; I saw them and this man I take for Botts; they were standing right in the door where the shooting took place; the other two were in the room, and Mallon was in that room too--in the second room.
Q. You are certain and positive, then, that all those parties were in the house at or about the time of the killing ?
A. I am, sir. Q. Are you just as positive in this statement as in any you have made ? A. I am. sir. Q, You know, do you not, that by making the statement you have just made you will be saved yourself? A. I don't know, sir. Q. Did not Major Hefflin tell you he would guarantee you against all harm on account of this if you would ? A. He told me that he would guarantee me protection^ sir.

QUESTIONS BY PKOSECT7TION.
George Botts was brought into court and duly sworn, Q. What is your name! A. My name is George Botts.

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Q. Where do you live ? A. In Etowah. Q. Were you acquainted with George Washburn ? A. Not personally. Q. Did you know him by sight ? A. I did, sir. Q. Is he dead or alive ? /. He is dead, sir. Q. Were you present at his death? A. I was, sir. Q. How did he die ? A. He was shot. Q. How many persons were present when he was shot ? A. Between twenty-five and thirty, I think, sir. Q. Where was he killed ? A. In Etowah. Q. How many persons, and who were they, to the best of your knowledge, who entered the house ? A. I can't tell how many came into the house. Q. Did you go in ? A. I did, sir. Q. Do you know any persons whom you cazi identify who went in ?. A. I do. Q. Who were they ? A. Mr. Luke. Q. If he is here, point him oat. A. (Witness pointing to one of the prisoners.) There he i<-\ sir. Q. Who else? A. Mr. Hodson. Q. Can you point him out ?

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f; A. I can. ? Q. Do so. A. (Witness pointed to one of the prisoners.) s Q. Do you see any one else present who was in there ? A. I do. . Q. State who, and point him out.
A. All of them, sir. Q. Point out one at a time. A. (The witness pointed to each prisoner severally, who at the order of the court rose up in full view of the court as his name was called by the witness. Only one of the accased was omitted, and the witness averted his eyes from those of that prisoner which seemed blazing with indigna tion.) Q. Any one else? A. I am not certain about Captain Latan6 Q. Well, if there is any reason that induces yon to believethat he is the man, or any description of his person, state them. A. The man in command of that squad, I take to be Cap tain Latan6. Q. Why did you take him to be Latane ? A. From his appearance, sir. Q. What was his appearance ? A. Just as it is now, sir. Q. If he was disguised in any way, state it--how? A. He wore a mask, sir. Q. What did this person do there that night, whom you took to be Captain Latan6 ? A. He seemed to have command of the party. Q. How many of _those persons, if any, whom you hav& named, went with you into the house ?" A. Mr. Luke, Mr. Hodson, Mr. Harber went in with me..

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Q. Any one else ? A. No, sir; they came behind me whoever else came into, the house Q. Did you see Carshall anywhere that night--a soldier ? A. I did, sir. .Q. Where was he when you went into the house ? A. He was with me. Q. Were you and the others who first went in with you armed? A. They were, sir. Q. With what? A. With pistols. Q. What sort of pistols? A . I did not notice closely; revolvers, I believe. Q. What was yours ? A. A revolver, sir. Q. When you got to Washburn's door, what then occut red? A. Firing, sir. Q. How many shots were fired? A. To the best of my belief there were thirteen or fourteen. Q. Who fired? A. I did, sir. Q. Who else? A. Mr. Luke. .Q. Who else? A. Mr. Hodson. Q. Anybody else ? A. Mr. Harber. Q. Any one else ? A. Mr. Carshall. Q.. Was there any one else ?

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A. I think not, sir; not where I could see them. <J. Did you see Washburn fall ? A. I did, sir. Q. What did the party then do ? A. They retired from the house. Q. Who did you first meet when you got there that night ? A. Met Bill Luke. 'Q. Who next? A. Met the crowd next. 'Q. Why did they say they wanted to kill Washburn? A. They didn't tell me that. Q. Why did lie say it? A. He didn't tell me. Q. Did he say anything ahout money or anything of value,
what ? A. He did, sir; he said he would give me so much money to go there. Q. What sum ? A, Fifty or a hundred dollars. Q. State whether you agreed to go. A. I did. Q. Was any time fixed. A. There was. Q. When was it ? A. Monday night. Q. What month, and what day of the month was that Monday night ? A. It was the month of March, and the 30th day of the month. Q. Was anything said ahout the time of night the meet ing was to take place ? A. There was.

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Q. What time ? A. Between, twelve and one o'clock.

RE-EXAMINATION BY PROSECUTION.
Q. Do you not know many persons by sight to whom you have never been introduced, and with whom you have never spoken.
A. I do, sir. Q. You testify that you heard these persons in conversa tion before you went into the house; I ask you whether there was any light in Washburn's room after you went in ? A. There was. Q. State whether you saw them in the room when the light shown upon them ? A. Yes, sir. Q. State whether that did, or did not, aid you in identify ing them. - A. Not particularly; I knowed who they were. Q. Do you mean to say that you knew before they went in who they were? A. Yes, sir. Q. State whether, on seeing them in the light, you found yourself mistaken as to any of them, and if so, who ? A. I did not. Q. State whether or not. in the crowd that night, you heard any of those present call others by name, and if so, whose names you heard called ? A. I heard Dr. Kicksey's name called. Q. State whether you heard any other name called? A. I heard Jim Harber's name called. Q. Any other ? A. I heard Henry Hennis' name called.

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413

QUESTIONS BY THE COURT.
Q. Did any one go as captain of the party ? A. I would.not swear to it, but I think it was Captain La4ane. Q. What were your reasons for assisting in killing Washburn? A. Because I thought he was a tyrant to the place, and ought to be got out of the way. If the testimony of these witnesses could not be success fully rebutted, the fate of the prisoners was sealed. As Barnum read in the Washington papers the testimony above given, he asked himself; " What can the ablest legal talent avail against a military tribunal armed with despotic power ?" But the soldiers of the army stationed in this State, and even the members of the Military Commission, seemed to secretly hope for their acquittal.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
NOSTALGIA.
Again Colonel Barnum visited the church in New Orleans which Julia Dearing attended, and again his eyes were re warded by a vision of the woman whom he loved more than all else. She was changed; she seemed sadder and paler than he had ever seen her. His absence and silence for nearly two months had convinced her that his love was only sympathy after all. Then she realized in her own heart what life was without some one near whom she could love with all the de votion of her nature. Her retired life and self-imposed seclu- . sion debarred her from reading the newspapers, and hence the imprisonment and trial of her friends had escaped her. Emile LaG-range was now the inmate of an inebriate asy lum at the North, and it was only through her little pupils that she occasionally saw the papers which they would bring to her to explain some picture to them. Mrs. LaG-range, with, a foolish mother's prejudice, laid Emile's ruin to her conduct, and made herself as disagreeable as she dared. She knew if she went too far Julia would leave.
The day before the Sunday which found Barnum again in church looking for her, little Marie had brought her a copy of the "Picayune," which contained a glowing eulogy of Colo nel Barnum for his efforts in behalf of the prisoners. Then followed a sketch of the imprisonment and trial of the prisoners, giving the names in full. The reader can imagine the feelings of the lonely, home-sick girl. What would her Hnele and Clara, what would Barnum think of her apparent

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! disregard for their sufferings and that of the dear ones who V had suffered such terrible imprisonment? "It is too late
now," she said, "writing will do no good; and how can I ex plain my ignorance of an affair which has aroused the inde pendent press throughout the country ?" She did not write. A new life would have to bless her solitary heart--a change come over the spirit of her dream, a change like that por trayed in the Scandinavian Edda--before the rosy flush, the bright, flashing eye, the light, silvery laugh, can again dis tinguish Julia Bearing so peerlessly above her fellows. She who had no home was dreadfully homesick. She had passed the French Opera House on Bourbon street, where the Cre oles supported Italian Opera, with the lavish magnificence of Parisians themselves, and where, as a child, she had spent many a delightful evening, and she felt the desolation of lonliness! The costly dresses of wealthy parvenus seemed to her fevered imagination to scorn her plain black dress as they swept past; the proud faces of the Bourgeoisie to glance with condescension from their luxurious carriages, and all the ladies on the streets to criticise and comment upon her dress, for what woman can walk a thronged and fashionable street without indulging this feminine penchant! At the church she essayed, time and again, to join in singing the hymns, and as often failed. She had never seemed so lonely, so little like thanking her Creator, as she did when in the midst of that assemblage at the church. Mrs. LaGrange ling ered to see her "dear pastor" and thank him for the sermon. "My dear Mr. F., it was so satisfactory to my soul," she said.
"You are very kind and complimentary, Mrs LaGrange; I wish all my congregation were as pious as you are. It is a great comfort to a minister to have the praise of his flock."
"My dear Mr. F.," she continued, "I have been wishing to

416

ETOWAH.

ask your opinion about a matter very near to my conscience. I went last week to hear the notorious 'Pagan Prince/ as the papers called him. The horrid atheist asserted that the manna, rained down to feed the chosen people in the desert, sprouted and ever since then grows about there under the name ofgum-arabic! The blasphemous sinner also said that 'quails migrate from the European Continent every winter and light on the shores of Egypt, so fat and tired from two days' flight that they fell on the ground and were captured in nets and were knocked over with sticks by the Egyp1 ians. What do you think should be done with him, Mr. P. ? With a shameless sarcasm he averred that the quails, having fallen into the habit of being sent in flocks to feed a mob of runaway Jew laborers, come regularly every year. In his lecture on miracles the blasphemous man alluded to two of the most touching episodes in history as follows: 'It is barely possible that Moses, having been brought up in Egypt and being a bright, intelligent fellow, had noticed this customary migration of birds and played it off on the igno rant peasantry he commanded, as he did the Red Sea epi sode. He knew where it was fordable, as we all know now, and walked his henchmen over. Pharaoh rode heedlessly in pursuit with chariots and camel trains and drowned a lot of them. I declare," said the indignant lady, ''I think he ought to be arrested for his sacrilegious utterances!"
"No, my dear Madame, that would make matters worse. Voltaire has said everything which he now says and in far better style. His chief hero, Tom Payne, died a miserable drunkard's death. The real foes to Christianity, most to be dreaded, are the ministers who make of the pulpit a political forum, and there are some who even contend that there is no hell. Let us go on in the even tenor of our way and all

::

ETOWAH.

417

: will be well for us. As to the 'Pagan Prince:' 'Ephraim is wedded to her idols; let her alone.' "
Mrs. LaGrange, like a great many other self-sufficient, de vout women, believed implicitly that her pastor was the sum of all physical and intellectual perfection. Upon, all sub jects, whether statecraft, war, morals, or religion, she believed his opinions to be as infallible as Catholics do those of the Pope. Hence, when he told her he would answer the "Pa gan Prince" by preaching on "miracles" the following Sab bath, she was happy. "Now," she said to herself, "the horrid atheist will be crushed so decidedly that he will keep his peace ever after,"
Meanwhile, Barnura had improved the opportunity thus afforded him to seek Julia and make himself known to her. He was dressed like a civilian, in black cloth, faultless in style and fit, and Julia thought him handsomer and more distinguished looking than she had ever seen him when dressed in uniform. He met her as quietly and naturally as if he had parted with her the day before, and walked home with her. Julia permitted the little girls to run on ahead of them, which would have shocked their orthodox mama had she known it.
"Miss Julia, I am delighted to see you; may I accompany you to your residence ? "
" Certainly, Colonel Barnum. I am equally glad to meet you. I received your note; it was very kind of you to come so far to see me. But let us talk of others; how did you leave Clara, and Captain Latane, and other friends ? "
" They were all well when I heard last from them. I came direct from Washington, not wishing to linger, but I did not leave until assured that the prisoners will be released. Oh!

41S

ETOWAH.

Miss Julia, you don't know what good friends you have left. They were going in search of you, had I not informed them that I had already found you."
Barnum really still felt very apprehensive about their fate, for the death of Mrs. Surratt seemed still a nightmare to him, but he did not wish to add to the burdens which Julia had already borne. The tears came into Julia's eyes in spite of her efforts to repress them.
"But I cannot return," she said; "it would break my heart to go to my old home now; and, besides, my contract with Mrs. LaGrange does not expire until the end of the year. I beg that you say nothing to my uncle, except that I prefer to remain here until my object is accomplished. He knows how deeply grateful I am to him."
He had no words of blame or commiseration for her; nothing but admiration for her noble determination to for get the life of plenty, luxury and elegance to which she had been accustomed all her life in order to earn her own living.
" You are to go back with me, Miss Julia; either to my home or to yours. I love you infinitely more for the noble efforts you have made, and I shall never love another. I can hardly expect you to marry a plain, unpretending man like myself, but you must lead this life no longer."
" Let us talk of yourself a little," she replied. "I read of your noble efforts in defence of the prisoners; the praise with which the papers allude to your name must give you well-deserved happiness; it made me happy."
" That last sentence is worth more to me, Miss Julia, than the praise of every paper in the United States. I would rather feel that I had done something worthy your approval than to pluck the proudest chaplet from Fame's temple."

ETOWAH.

419

" If you value my friendship or good opinion so highly, permit me to add that your conduct in the past few months does you infinitely greater honor than would any officia] prominence."
This was said in an earnest, sincere tone which carried conviction with it, and his eyes showed his profound appre ciation of her words. After a few moment's silence, during which time they had neared the mansion where Mrs. LaGrange resided, Barnum, opening the gate, extended his hand to her and said: " Miss Julia, I am satisfied that you know me too well not to understand that I have come to New Or leans with no idle purpose. It is not necessary for me torepeat that my happiness, as far as an absorbing love can make happiness, is dependent upon your reciprocating my attachment. So long as I thought yoii were wealthy, I did not feel at liberty to propose marriage to you, even if you returned my love, until I had demonstrated to myself at least, my ability to take care of you as my wife must be cared for. Now our positions are reversed, and I am able to provide for you better than you can aid yourself, and I hope soon to acquire distinction, if not wealth. But unless your heart can come to me with your hand, I will not ask you to marry me, and I can hardly hope that you will sacrifice yourself for my happiness. Let us, therefore, bid each other farewell forever, for I can't live near you happily unless I can hope to win you. But, come what may, my heart is, and will ever be solely given to you."
She did not reply immediately, and he still held her trembling hand in his. Looking down with t at undefined and indefinable modesty which was peculiarly her own, she said:
"Will you not come in, Colonel Barnum ?"

420

ETOWAH.

;;:

'If to decline means to give up all hope of winning yes!

forever, and to accept means that to the best of your knowledge!

your heart can bs safely and freely entrusted in my keeping,!

would you bid me to decline or accept your invitation?!

Miss Julia, I appeal to your better nature, do you not thiak!:!!

it best that this moment shall determine whether you are fe!

be all or nothing to me f

';!

"I hope you will not refuse my request. I would like to!!

talk more freely with you--particularly with regard lo those!!

who are so dear to us both. I do not think there is any!

.occasion for so long a separation as you propose, and hop;;:::

(hat I have said nothing to wound the feelings of one whom;::

I esteem as highly as I do any one in the world."

::

"'Esteem.'" seems a cold, formal, hollow word to me now;

my love is selfish, exacting, all-absorbing, and I must have::

yours as completely as I have given mine unreservedly to : :

you. Give me your answer now, once for all time to come."

Her old pride and haughtiness returned when she heard

the firm tone say, "I must have yours now," and then she

saw his determined look. Extending her hand, she said,

"Good-bye, Colonel Barnum, if you will not come in."

"Then farewell, Miss Julia; it is better that I should not

remain near yon if you cannot love me. It is not your

fault, but my misfortune. I will endeavor to go so far that

I will not be able to annoy you with my reiterated profes

sions henceforth. But it matters not how far distant I may

be, I can never forget how dear you have been, how dear you

are to me!"

Julia had given him her hand, as he extended his, and

her timid heart struggled in vain for utterance. She longed

ii tell him all--to tell him that he alone could fill her yearn

ing heart, which now longed for that caressing, which, since

1

ETCMVAH.

421

S: her father's death, sne nad so sadly missed. Here stood the Cinan whom s e admired, trusted, loved above all oth- r men, ::; and yet hi-s words, sounding so like an ultimatum, a dicta tion, furbade h r saying what she so longed to say. She tried : : to look up, but could not. He bent down and passionately 'kissed the hand which he held in his--once, twice,
thrice--"Good-bye, my darling; I shall never love another!" : The long, appealing look, the fervent, trembling clasp of the hand, the passionate kisses were over, and the taU form of Colonel Barnum strode quickly from her sight.
She tried to call to him, but her tongue refused its office ; she tried to follow, but her feet seemed glued to the earth where she stood! And it was not until his form was lost among the throngs which crowded the side-walk that na ture asserted her rights, and tears came to her relief--tears that rushed aflood, and gave to her footsteps motion at last; tears that were from her heart, as if they possessed the talis man to touch the silent chords of grief and wake them to sorrow! She threw herself on a sofa in the parlor and gave way to her tears. "Oh! why could I not tell him ? Why could he not see all he wished and more--the love of a friend less orphan is his and his alone!" Such were the thoughts of the young governess, who was passing through the seve rest ordeal a woman's heart can know. . How long she might have remained thus it is impossible to say, but certain it is that she was suddenly brought to realize her dependent position and the practical realities of life, in a most unceremonious way. Perhaps it was the best thing that could have happened, if it is best to drive away all thoughts of love from such a heart as Julia Bearing's.
M-s. LaGrange entered, puffing like a steam engine, her fat,face showing as plainly her disapproval of "all this" ag

422

ETOWAH.

::::

a black cloud foretells a storm. The darkened room made:: every object indistinct, but she had seen enough to give her::* a just pretext for delivering a lecture--such as small mind*::::: with big hates delight in.
"Miss Bearing, permit me to ask, where are the children?::: I do believe you permitted them to walk by themselves--1 ; ; : do believe they are playing, actually playing with hoops;:: on the street! and this is the holy Sabbath day! I ought::: to ask your pardon, perhaps, for being so abrupt, but when a.'-; mother's feelings about their safety not to mention their ; spiritual welfare--are aroused; when a mother's heart ; is shocked by this neglect of her little darlings whom ; she has trustingly confided to your care, what can she do? What ought she to do? Miss Bearing, for all you know, the horse-cars may have crushed their lives out! You are utterly unworthy of trust!" Then the female Ve suvius subsided, exhibiting a few spasmodic eruptions in the shape of sobs and tears manufactured for the occasion. Then the fat lady fell in a large arm-chair covering her face with her hands.
Julia had risen instantly, and with ill-concealed vexation had listened to this unnecessary and unmerited tirade until it ha 1 exhausted itself by its very incoherence. Her face was an interesting study. The traces of tears were still on her cheeks and in her eyes, but hot, indignant blushes over came these. Regrets for love unspoken gave place to regrets that s-he had subjected herself to such treatment as this. This, in turn, yielded to that pride which all her life had been her besetting fault--the stumbling-block to her happi ness. The feeling which inspired Hazael to say : " Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" was fully ap preciated by Julii Bearing as Mrs. LnGrange concluded.



ETOWAH.

423

; Pride came now to her aid; she would not let her know : how she had suffered in heart; she would take advantage of iJhis opportunity to terminate her term of servitude. But ,:where would she go ?
"Anywhere, anywhere!" she murmured, "save where I am treated like a servant." This unconsciously uttered ex clamation caused Mrs. LaGrange to remove her handkerchief and look at Julia.
The face which now met her gaze was neither one like that of Judith ready to revenge herself, nor like Cleopatra's ready to yield to despair; as beautiful perhaps as either, it had as sumed a pallor unreal and startling; now that all these suc cessive phases of thought and feeling had blighted the poor girl's heart like a sirocco.
"Julia, what is the matter, are you crazy?" This was said in a frightened voice as Mrs. LaGrange saw this strange expression which resolved itself into a stony stare. The woman in her heart was at last moved, and Mrs. LaGrange with remorseful feeling attempted to undo what she had done, for she was not as malicious as she seemed. Her question was the most unfortunate one which she could have uttered. "Are you mad, my dear?" Julia Bearing advanced toward her and, with eyes blazing with unnatural light, exclaimed : "Mrs. LaGrange, I b.-lieve I a-n! I must leave now. I have remained here too long!" The searing iron of despair had entered her soul, and seemed fast approaching th ; citadel of reason. Already her mind seemed paralyzed. The elder lady was completely over come by conflicting emotions; pride, affection, selfishness and with it remorse for the many cruel stabs at this proud,

424

ETOWAH.

;

dependent, suffering girl; this imperial soul imprisoned I

the vocation of a governess, all struggled for the masters

The figure before her seemed the impersonation of sorrowing::

despair, the twin-sister of Nemesis, taking the surest revenp::f

by standing as a victim face to face with the oppressor::;::

But ah! "a toiich of kindness makes all the world kin," twS::;:

little voices put an end to this momentary drama. Running::;:

in the parlor with their aprons full of flowers, ignoring their'--;;

mother, they went to Julia, and one of them extending her :

apron to Julia said, almost breathlessly:

"i got here fyst, Miss Julia! and you must have my flowers; ;

I pulled 'em for you !"

"I trieded to get here fyst, Miss Julia, and if you don't

take my flowers you don't love 'ittle girls like you do big

girls who can run the fastedest!" and the little child shook

her fairy-like head almost with every word to give vehemence

to her argument.

The stony stare faded slowly away, and her eyes slowly

filled with tears, as the mind, touched by the wand of affec

tion, returned to its human duty and the girl knelt down,

placed her arms around both children and said in a low tone

full of earnestness and affection :

"My dear, sweet little darlings! I'll take them all," and

then she turned her eyes to Mrs. LaGrange and said: ''Suffer

little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of

such is the Kingdom of Heaven."

;

The mother's heart was touched as it had never been be-,

fore. The children had brought Tier no flowers, but they

were her children, and any one who could inspire su~h love

as this was too good to be spoken to as she had spoken ; too

kind to be insulted and taunted with her dependent posi

tion.

425
;;:: _She arose, and taking Julia's liand in her's, kissed gent%:: IS&gr forehead and said : '' Julia, forgive me! You have made ::;:*? a better woman; I will never wound your feelings i^again." The head of the kneeling governess sank on her ;: keast, and for the first time in so long a time Julia Bearing s;'felt that it had found a resting-place. ;;:. The flowers were strewn about the floor; Mrs. LaGrange ;;;was kneeling beside her charing her hands as she reclined ;;. upon the sofa; the two little girls were caressing her face, T and often kissing her, as she lay there in a semi-consciousI state. The doctor, who had been summoned by Mrs. LaGrrange, now entered softly, and drew a chair beside the patient, and felt her pulse time and again.
Julia seemed unconscious of his presence, and now and then she would smile and move her lips, as if speaking inaudibly to some invisible person whose near presence made her happy.
Then she seemed in slumber, but her eyes did not close. A bed was placed in the parlor, for she was too ill to be removed to her room, which was, besides, a dreary apartment away from the other occupied rooms and looking into the court. Days succeeded days, and weeks followed, and still the invalid was confined to her bed and seemed unconscious of her condition. Nor did she taste food during this long in terval. Meanwhile, the untiring devotion and tenderness of Mrs. LaGrange never ceased, and surprised all her acquaintances. Her motherly affection seemed transferred from the absent Emile to the present Julia. Her features, like her voice, had softened, and, though her hair around the temples had assumed a silvery hue, it made

426

ETOWAH.

her countenance infinitely more attractive than it had eve?

been. She now seemed a devoted, amiable, lovely, self-sac

rificing mother, whose chief aim in life was to restore this;!

motherless girl to health and happiness. The girl whomsliS::|:

had charged with being the author of Emile's ruin she now; ::|

loved with a love too untiring not to be enduring; and this:::;

had changed her into a womanly woman, as patient as she:::

had formerly been captious and impatient.

::

Formerly she had been but a petted child of fortune, al- ::

though the mother of an adult son; formerly she had been :

ever attentive to the outward observance of religion and

etiquette, and a constant attendant at church; now she was

far more than that--although she had not entered a church

or spoken to her pastor since that eventful day--she was a

Christian. To be a Christian truly is to resemble Christ.

Mrs. LaGrange was in these days of trial Christ-like, and the

pallid but beautiful patient was angel-like. A smile from

her now was ample reward for Mrs. LaGrange's sleepless

nights and days of watchful care. Once more she saw the

lips move and heard them faintly utter, as if speaking to an

angel, the words. "Faith, hope, charity, but the greatest of

these is charity," and these words were followed by a smile

from the lips that uttered them which expressed more than

the words themselves. Mrs. LaGrange had read the words a

thousand times; she had neverJelt them until then. She said

to herself: "What a mystery, after all, is the human heart!

I, who have ever considered life a theatre for pleasure, where

men and women act their parts in a comedy, or lead a but

terfly existence, now see life as it is.

" Life, in its highest essence, is charity; without charity,

life is despair! Despair in life means melancholia or mania,

and these mean death in life, or a precursor to this lifeless

|;

ETOWAH.

427

;lifewhich is so still and yet so beautiful; so silent, yet so fiaioquent with that placid look which the pure in heart only s ;'can have; ?o sweet that it has instructed me how to be S :.happy, better, far better, than long years of penitential piety. : 'No frowns, no sighs, no moans, no griefs, are pictured on : thissweet young face,' nor are these, any one of these, essential : to goodness, or she would have them. The best, the sweetest child I ever knew ! " Thus thought Mrs. LaGrange as she bent down and gently kissed the brow of the fair young sleeper.
"Mother!" exclaimed Julia, as if awaking from a sweet, long slumber. " Mother! " as a little child might have said "mother." She took Mrs. LaGrange's face in her two thin, white hands, and pulling it down to her, kissed it affection ately, and said : " I thought you were my mother in heaven, Mrs. LaGrange, but you are my mother on earth, and I love you for your kindness. Don't tell me about it; I have dreamed it all, and I know you love me."
" Yes, my darling child! Julia, I love you as dearly as any mother ever loved her child. Call me mother let me be your mother, and I will be happier than I have ever been."
" Mother! " The invalid smiled again, closed her eyes for the first time, and sank into a gentle slumber, such as the very feeble sleep.
The tears were streaming from Mrs. LaGrange's face, as she knelt by the side of that bed and prayed that Julia's life might be spared.
The very well-springs of her being seemed now touched, and she was full of love and tenderness, and anxiety for the motherless orphan whom she felt was about to be taken from her forever, before she could win the forgiveness of her

428

ETOWAH.

own heart for the trials to which she had been subjectiBf|l|

this friendless girl.

Julia now seemed to her as if she was her guardian

and she feared that she would lose all her new happiness,.if!'

she who had taught her how to be noble were to pass thsp?

sweetly away.

-!';!

Meanwhile, the twentieth day of the trial of the Etowa&f

prisoners found the barracks court-room crowded to sufls-;;;;

cation. The testimony had nearly all been of an indecisive;f

character, but nothing that would establish the absolute;;;

innocence of the prisoners had been elicited from the wip-

nesses for the prosecution, to whom precedence had bees;;

given.

;;;;

In civil law, the condemned may be reprieved by th;;;

Executive; and sometimes, in exceptional cases, Executive;;:

clemency grants a full pardon. In military law, there is ;;

no right of appeal to the Supreme Court of the State, or of;

the United States; and the law is summarily executed by ;

a platoon of soldiers, who send the souls of the condemned;

into the illimitable future at the crack of the musket.

Now, a living soul, full of all the tenderest emotions and

the noblest aspirations to round up one's life-work with

some noble performance, the thousand blood-channels full

of life-blood coursing at every pulsation through the arteries;

then suddenly, this glorious temple of humanity but a

moment before, lies prone in the dust perforated with bullets,

a lifeless corpse! And yonder soldiers lean on their mus

ket?, which sent forth their deadly missiles at the command,

"Fire!" and weep.

Such seemed the doom awaiting the unhappy Etowak

prisoners.

:.'

ETOWAH.

429

;; Hair, that was black a month ago, is now streaked with. ;grey; they have lived twenty years in twenty days. II;; The court-room is crowded, though the day is a sultry July iSay, and nine-tenths of the audience are ladies--not women ;|; merely, but gentlewomen--for these daugh^'-r ;T -La Con|: ftderacy, who faced that dreadful ordeal that day when I;;jhe witnesses for the defence were to be placed upon the f; : $tand, were gentle mannered and gentle-born. ;;y About each of the prisoners was the aroma of fresh flowers; ;: behind them, an array effaces that indicated a sympathy ;;; ;wicle as is humanity. :;;;. Against the gentlemen composing the Military Commis; : sion the prisoners felt no animosity; they felt as did Ney iilwhen his own soldiers slew their commander at his own ;; command. They knew that not one of those officers felt any malice to them, and they appreciated that each one reluctantly performed the saddest duty of his life. The prisoners seemed to have lost hope in any just ter; mination, as they noted the character of the witnesses sum moned against them, and the tenor of their testimony. They wondered at the delay in introducing the witnesses for the defence ; and they wondered still more at the cordial manner in which the leading counsel for the defence greeted the prosecuting attorney. But now their hopes are revived, as the witness for the defence takes the stand and is examined by their counsel.

EXAMINATION BY THE LEADING COUNSEL FOE THE DEFENCE.
Dr. Clifford A. Wales was introduced as a witness by the defence and was duly sworn, and testified as follows:
Q. Doctor, please give the court your name in full--Chris tian name and all to the court ?

480

ETOWAH.

;;;||

A. Clifford A. Wales.

'

:.:::ff|l

Q. Are you a brother of the Hon. William H. Wales, I|;llll

minister to Austria some time ago, and of the Rev. I>!!1

Joseph C. Wales, of Richmond, Virginia?

;;:!!!!

A. Yes, sir.

^111

Q. Where do you reside now, Doctor?

i^llf

A. In Marshall county.

:;TM|f

Q. This State?

l|f

A. YfS, sir.

;;;;-si|

Q. What is your profession?

iisll

A. Physician.

: ;;;;|1

Q. Do you know William Luke?

" ; ;f;|:

A. 1 do.

:m

Q. Do you see him in this row of prisoners?

:::::

A. I do.

'-if

Q. Will you point him out to the court?

::::

A. I will. (Witness points out Mr. Luke, the accused.) ^

Q, How far do you reside from his father's.

:::

A. About three miles.

;;;

Q. Did you see him at his father's at any time during the;

latter part of March of this year ?

A. I did.

;;

Q. What was the day of the week and of the month, and

state the circumstances where you saw him ?

A. It was on Monday, the 30th of March, at his father's :

workshop, about forty miles east of north of Etowah.

;

(There was a sensation in the audience as this alibi was

proved, for there was no way to go thence to Etowah except

by wagon-road.)

Q. What time in the evening ?

A. Between five and six o'clock.

liii;

ETOWAH.

431

:;;;;, Had your attention been called specially to the timeis: which you saw him ? p;A. Yes, sir. :;::Q. Do you recollect when Mr. Washburn was assassinated? i::A. I do, sir. ;; Q. Do you recollect where you were when you first heard ;#it? { L I do.
Q. Where were you ? fi: A. In Luke's workshop. |\' Q. Was Mr. Luke, the accused, present at the time you |;heard the news ? l :- A. He was. (:: The witness then retired, and the Mayor of the city of ;::!Etowah was placed upon the witness stand, and he thus tes tified as to the character of three important witnesses for the i: prosecution.

: CROSS-EXAMINED BY COUNSEL FOR THE PROSECUTION.
Q. Are you acquainted with that man, Hannett, whom, : you say you saw in Washburn's room that night ? A. I know him.
Q. Are you acquainted Avith his general character for truth and veracity ?
A. I am. Q. From that general character would believe him on oath? A. I would not. Q. Do you know Wade Cravens ? A. I do. Q. Do you know his character for truth and veracity? A. I do.

432

ETOWAH.

;!

Q. From that character would you believe him on M

oath ?

I

A. I would not.

si;

Q. Do you know George Botz, the young man?

.';.;f;|

A. I do.-

:li

Q. Are you acquain ted with his general character for tru|l|

and veracity?

slf

A. I am.

ill

Q Prom that knowledge would you believe him on Ijil;;

oath ?

1!

A. I would not; He has testified that he fired at Geoigss

Washburn, and that the inducement offered him to comim*;;;

murder was one hundred dollars.

'

s;s;

Q. How long have you known George Botz, the witness-;;

you have testified about ?

;;;-s-;

A. I have known him from his childhood, I might say.;;.;;;;

Q. Had you been examined under oath as to his general!

character prior to the death of Washburn, would you have;

sworn that you would not believe him on his oath ?

is;

A. I would.

;;;;-

Q. If you had been asked on your oath in court, prior to!

the death of Washburn, would you have answered that yoa;;

would not believe the witness, Cravens, on oa th ?

;-;:;

A. I would.

;;;;

Q. Why would you have made that answer?

A. From his associations and the manner in which h

and the family live. His associates were negroes and low:::

white people.

is

Very soon after the rebutting testimony had been gone::

into, it became evident that the prisoners could not be, amis

ought not to be, convicted. The evidence f r the defence;;

was overwhelming in its proofs of a conspiracy of perjury;;;

I::

ETOWAH.

Iliad of its strong suggestions of subornation of perjury. It Hsras certain th at Washburn had been killed. It was reasonfpfie to suppose that the so-called ku-klux klan had killed fsjiim; and it was possible that some of the guilty parties had llfssen arrested; but it was very certain that among the prisIjojiers were men against whom no reproach of any kind had iisyer b?en made, and who were as guiltless of this crime as a liiibabe. Justice pardons the guilty rather than punish the insiaocent; thesn detectives sought to punish the innocent that iiitbey n ight reach the guilty, and thus earn the forty thouiSand dollars offered for their conviction. :Si- But their release became a certainty after the speech of githe principal counsel for the defence. IK: The ex-Vice-President of the Confederacy, as leading icounsel for the accused arose and addressed the court. Quotliing the fourteenth amendment which had just been ratified ;;* the State Legislature, he said : ; ''It was primarily intended to guarantee particularly the i: rights of the enfranchised blacks, but it also provides protec tion for the white citizens of this country. The words 'due :: process of law,' mean a great deal, and, although it has been : held by this military commission that a trial without indict ment by a grand jury may be constitutional, it has never i been intimated that, under the provisions of this amend: ment, a trial by petit jury can be dispensed with. 'Due ; process of law' means a trial by a jury of one's peers. We ; have now the right to the writ to be heard on the question .whether the constitution has been violated in order to com;pass the conviction of these men. The same constitution covers us all. * I know no anarchy abroad in this land which the American people need fear, except anarchy in the

434

ETOWAH.

administration of justice. I fear that anarchy which

the ermine of justice and administers lynch law in

of the supreme law of the land."

So convincing were his arguments, and so overwhelm!)?!

the testimony in favor the prisoners, that the Military

mission was soeedily adjourned by order of the General

manding the Department. The Judge Advocate

the next day that he had no further business to bring

the Military Commission, and stated that all proceedings^!!!

the trial of the prisoners charged with the murder of Wag||s

burn, were at an end. The prisoners were unconditioBiillp

released.

;;::::!

But the effect of the outrageous treatment to which Hall

back had been subjected, was to make him determined: ;Jel

leave no stone unturned to get even with those whomitisl

thought were his persecutors. He resolved to expose tat:

thefts, tyranies and impositions practiced by the agents:*)!

the Preedmea's Bureau, under the administration of Pfti^:

Stunner and Hefflin, even if it antagonized every memfef

of his race.

;;;;;;;

Prudent and industrious freedmen rarely called upon tEa:

Bureau for advice and assistance. It was the idle and wortis|

less who looked to it for support, and the aged and infirp!

who were formerly supported by their masters. The masses;

of the freedmen had an idea that the Bureau possessed sosie::

mysterious power to serve them, and if they failed to sectms!

such livelihood as they desired, they fell back upon it witfe

a certainty of support. They also regarded the existence:Sf

the Bureau as evidence that the government looked upsa:

the white people of the South as their enemies. *

.'\ : Wf

The firrt matter to which he called Barnum's attentsMi

was ths killing of a freedman by an employee of the

ETOWAH.

435

Slfeffit commissioner of the Freedmen's Bureau, Mr. WellingSfoa Napoleon P</tt^, whoso partner was th^ Rev. Horace lluhns, formerly Quarter-Master U. S. V., who resided on the llplahtatiou in Pitt county, operated on their joint account,, |;:asd who was still an agevit of the Bureau without pay. In. Hjproportion t > the increa ed authority given to Potts by his ilew office, bestowed b cause of his excessive loyalty, his ilbatural cupidity came to the surface in the r61e of a develilsper. He boldly launched into operations which brought f;|im and his subordinates, whom he wag careful to so select gihat they might become silent partners, into competition ?:with tLe plant rs and others who were employing freedmen Sas laborers. They thus appropriated and controlled the Ikbor of freedmen under their jurisdiction to advance their sprivate interests. Potts Lad became interested contrary tc sihe law establishing the Freedmen's Bureau, in many in dustrial enterprises, such as cultivating plantations, operat ing saw-mills, e!c., etc. The trouble was that his '"silent ^partners" did not, like Stunner, know when to talk and ::when to be silent, and Hallback had little difficulty in ac quiring the information. Colonel Barnum related his per sonal experiences with the Assistant Commissioner, Potts, and the War Department sent two Federal Generals early ;;the next year--for official methods are slow to materialize-- to investigate the truth of these reports, and they reported :as follows:
: "We have investigated some of the charges made against the agents of the Bureau, and in pursuing our inquiries to : this point, commenced with the Assistant Commissioner of the State, Mr, Wellington Napoleon Potts. Mr. Potts, to whom we addressed the interrogatory: "Do you know of any person now on duty wi-h the Freedmen's Bureau in

436

ETOWAH.

this Department, who is, or has been since entering the duties of his office, engaged, or interested directly or ijj|l|| rectly, in the cultivation of any lands within this ment ?"
He answered "No \" Subsequently he addressed us a ji||| hereto appended, marked " A,"in which he stated, th order to assist the planters in hiring freedmen, he and other officers of the Bureau had loaned money, and Hull indirectly had an interest in cultivating plantations. M receiving this note we addressed Mr. Potts further interrogi '(ories, a copy of which is hereto annexed, marked 'B^:|f which he replied in a communication, also hereto appentig|s marked "C," disclosing the fact that he is interested wiS| the Rev. Horace Johns, of Massachusetts, formerly capiiig and assistant quarter-master Freedmen's Bureau, and will Mr. Winthrop Rappan, of Maine, in the cultivation ofil large plantation in Etowah county. He also stated theresl that he was interested in the manner before mentioned wi|l| Captain F. A. Sheely, superintendent for the Bureau of ths eastern district in Hogue county, and with Captain Rosencrantz, commissary of subsistence, and a Mr. in Pitt county, in the cultivation of plantations with tlj:; labor of freedmen, whom he supplies with rations as parJ a| of their wages! The circumstances under which a freedmas: was killed, as stated by Mr. Johns himself, are as follows:;:; The freedman was accused of stealing provisions from tiie; store of Messrs. Potts and Johns, and was arrested, tried ESJC!: convicted by Mr. Johns, as agent of the Bureau, and was ssa-; tenced to dig ditches on their plantation. While working out his sentence he ran away and was pursued by Johs;M clerk, Hoyden, who arrived at the bank of a river while ili?
freedman was attempting to cross in a canoe. Hoyden oi

;;;:;

ETOWAH.

437

&sd him to return, telling him if he did not he would tost, and the freedman disregarding this order, Hoyden fed. Hoyden states himself that he thinks he hit him, and ||ss nothing has ever been heard of him since, it is generally lifelieved in the neighborhood that he was killed, and fell c>m the canoe into the river. These facts are stated in a iiMfer forwarded to Mr. Potts, who returned it to Captain lUteeley, with the following indorsement:

II :

" ETOWAH, WEDNESDAY, March 28..

||:::"Respectfully returned. As the affair seems to have oclissrred at night, and as the body of the negro has not yet been . ^discovered, it does not appear certain that the shot took effect. |:So further action in the case seems called for.

|;; ;.:. By order of W. N. POTTS, Assistant Commissioner."

i:: In one of our interviews with the freedmen at Etowah, Issue of whom had been employed in the Commissary DeIjiartment of the Bureau, they stated that rations in bulk Iliad been frequently taken from the supply warehouse at yanusual hours before the doors were open for the transac tion of business, and hauled off in carts and wagons, osten sibly to the freedmen's warehouse, but really to a provision : store kept by a man who furnished supplies for the planta tion in which this officer was interested, and with which they paid the wages of the freedmen employed as aforesaid.
On ihe south bank of the Flint river there is a settlement composed exclusively of freedmen and containing a popula tion of about four thousand, whose condition is truly de plorable. These unfortunate people came within our lines and were located there during the war. They are living in smaUhuts, built by themselves, of lumber manufactured by hand. These huts generally contain but a single room, e;ich of which is occupied in most cases by larg * families.

438

ETOWAH.

;; :::;:i:;i

The appearance of this settlement, recently scourged S||| small-pox, is well calculated to excite the deepest sympatKpi: for the helpless condition of its inhabitants. The decreps:||; and helpless among them are supported by the Governments; of the United States, and the remainder procure an tain and scanty living from little jobs, from fishing small boats, etc. Rev. Mr. Stunner, formerly an army cha.jp:: lain, presides over this colony as "Assistant Superintended!! of the Bureau for the Flint river settlement." This agea|s: hasexeieised the most arbitrary and despotic power, aal| practiced unheard of cruelties on the helpless freedmen USl| der his charge. The outrageous conduct of this man wmjbrought to our attention by a delegation of freedmgal: from the settlement, who called upon us and made states! ments in reference to his oppressions and outrages whidO we could scarcely credit. After hearing these statements v?e! visited the settlement, conversed with the freedmen, invesf! tigated the charge against this man, and ascertained that he!!! had been guilty of greater wrongs and .oppress ions than hasts been complained of. In addition to the testimony of thss freedmen, we took the statements of four intelligent ladies!! from the North who were teaching school in this settlement,! !
Among many acts of cruelty committed by Superintend! dent Stunner, we found that he had, in two instances, sug-!; pended freedmen with cords around their wrists, with thei?;i; feet not touching the floor, and kept them in this position-^:" in one case four, and in the other case six hours. Also tLafi:: he sentenced a freedman to an imprisonment of three:: months for a trivial offence, that of wrangling with h's wife:::: He kept another man. who was arrested for debt, shut up'hi! the block-house, a prison, for months, while his wife and! children, reduced to abject destitution, died with the small-!:!

'

ETOWAH. '

439

; and took him from the prison under guard and com|p|ed him to bury his last child in the cradle in which it ltei On another occasion, when one of his guards reported i|:iim that a colored woman had spoken disrespectfully of li. without even inquiring what the woman had said, he Ipiered her to be imprisoned till 9 o'clock next morning, lipjen she should be brought bsfore him to answer for the ifadignity. In one instance he imprisoned six children for ;|SS days for playing in the streets on the Sabbath day. He Ifisjosed a fine of $60 upon an aged freedman for having
another freedman that he was about to be arrested by Stunner. This poor old man, not having the money to
e fine, was imprisoned until next day, when his son lipaid the same, with $3 additional jail fees. lO^The land upon which the huts in this settlement are :||iirilt is owned by certain heirs in North Carolina, and is llsld by the Bureau as abandoned property. A tax, which lluperintendent Stunner says goes to the support of the Bup8au(?), is imposed upon the owner of each hut for ground sirsat. If the occupants fail to pay the tax promptly, they gfee either turned out into the streets or imprisoned, and in 'mme instances huts have been torn down by order of the ^Superintendent for non-payment of tax. All business transIsoted by these people is taxed for the same purpose. Five Collars per month is levied on every little shop, $2 on each ifishing boat, $5 on each horse and cart, etc. The failure to :j>ay these taxes when due at once subjects the property to iconfiscation. AVe were unable to ascertain what amount of iffloney had been collected by Superintendent Stunner, or :;what disposition had been made of it. The imperfect man:aer in which his books were kept would have needed a lengthy ai-d detailed examination nece;ssary to arrive at

440

ETOWAH.

:::;:;;;:

even an approximate idea of the amount of money collected;!

In answer to a question as to what justification there wMi^

for the oppressive burdens he had imposed upon these ]5e<>!J

pie, Superintendent Stunner replied that Captain Sheefep!

told him : "I must have a thousand dollars .a month frosps

that settlement." He also furnished us with a sworn states!

ment herewith furnished, marked "E," in which he attempts:;:;;;

to defend his conduct by stating that he acted in obedience::!

to the orders of his superior officers in the Bureau, Messrs,:!:

Potts and others. In an interview we had with Captain; |

Sheeley, that officer evinced a desire to shield Superintend:

dent Stunner by stating that a great deal of what was saiti:; ;

against him was false, notwithstanding that he had sworn;:::

testimony before him that the charges against Stunner::

were true.

!;

In contracting to furnish laborers to work plantations; /:

these officers of the Bureau become at once interested!;

against the laborer whom they compel to labor, perhaps un

justly, when unfairly dealt with by the person working him

on the plantation, and on his refusing to work he inflicts

upon him unlawful, and for a breach of contract, unheard

of punishments, putting them in chain-gangs as if they

were convicted criminals. Mr. Potts, or any other officers

in the Bureau, who are engaged in working plantations

rented for cash or on shares, become interested in securing

a low rate of wages, and in making the most stringent labor

regulations to the great detriment of the freedmen.

They thereby give the sanction of the Government to the

establishment of wages far below what the labor is really

worth.

The arbitrary power exercised by the officers and agents

of the Bureau in making arrests, imposing fines and inflict-

|:

ETOWAH.

441

;:::ing punishments, disregarding the local laws and especially ?:.:$]e Statute of Limitations, creates prejudice against the :; Government. If the officers were all honest and intelligent, : with even limited legal information, it might be safe to trust ;; them with this extraordinary power; but in many instances
the officers do not possess the slightest knowledge of law. The agent, and former chaplain, Stunner, imposed a fine of $25 on one freedman for stabbing another so severely as to endanger his life, and when interrogated by us, stated that he did not know enough about law to distinguish a civil from a criminal case. Many others are as ignorant of the law as this reverend gentleman is. We are satisfied that the recom mendation which we made in reference to the 'withdrawal of the officers of the Bureau in Virginia, and the transfer ence to the officers commanding the troops of such duty asit may still be necessary to perform in connection with the freedmen, is equally applicable to this State.
Ver- respectfully your obedient servants. JAMBS B. SEEDMAN, Maj. Gen. U. S. V. J. S. WOLVERTON, Brig. Gen. U. S. V."

The effect of this report, brought about by the efforts of Hallback, was the summary removal from office by the War Department of Messrs. Potts, Hefflin, Stunner and their as sociates. The only consolation that Stunner had was the comical manner in which he, a veteran legal dynamiteur, was described in this official report as one who could not distin guish a civil from a criminal case. Potts and Hefflin adroitly used their removal from office to prejudice the ne groes against Hallback, for thousands of the laziest and most corrupt among them throughout the State had been fed and

442

ETOWAH.

clothed thus at the expense of the Government to the profit of its trusted agents.
In becoming thus a reformer of bad methods and a bene factor to the community at large, Hallback became the tar get for the venemous malice of these men and their illiterate and misguided negro followers. A year before he was their acknowledged leader ; now they were ready to sacrifice him upon the first favorable opportunity.

I

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

;:

THE CONVICT.

The career of Hefflin had already illustrated that the man who slays a fellow-man, seems, like the tiger which : has tasted blood, to thirst for more.
The tiger is the symbol of cruelty, and Hefflin was a hu man tiger. The car of Bacchus is represented as being drawn by tigers to indicate that the excess of wine trans ports us to fury. Malice was the vintage drank by Hefflin, and the chief object of his wrath was, as we have seen, the now released prisoner, Hallback, who returned his hatred with interest. But Hallback, brave as he was, would have shuddered had he known of the fate which awaited him.
It had been for some time evident that either Hallback's influence with his negro associates must be destroyed, or the hold on political offices retained by Potts, Hefflin, and their allies, would cease, as their connection with the Freedman's Bureau had ceased.
With Hallback, too, vendetta, had become a passion as absorbing as ever it was in the heart of a Oorsican deter mined on revenge--a man who feels obliged by a custom consecrated by time that impels every member of a fam ily to avenge the murder of a relative. So in Sardinia, and in the mountains of Caucasus, and in Montenegro, custom sanctions the vendetta. But custom was not Hallback's

444

ETOWAH.

.;;;;;

counsellor. His mind lingered upon the words in the thirty-fourth chapter of Numbers: " The revenger of i: blood himself shall slay the murderer ; when he meetetJi: him he shall slay him. But if the slayer shall at any time;; come without the border of the city of his refuge, whither :: he was fled; And the revenger of blood find him without the borders of the city of his refuge, and the revenger of blood kill the slayer; he shall not be guilty of blood."
He regarded Hefflin as the accomplice of Washburn in the killing of "Uncle Barney;" he regarded him as the remorseless seeker after his own life. And he proceeded to act accordingly.
The plotters were industriously at work to get rid of him, and every meeting in public demonstrated it. Hefflin had taunted him, time and again, publicly, and he had for borne to resent his insults.
Finally the ruffain, as Hallback arose to speak before the members of the Loyal League, deliberately spat in his face. The indignity was resented by a blow from the fist of the indignant young leader which knocked Heffiin off the stand. He arose with fury, as the jeering negroes saluted his discomfiture, and, remounting the stand, sud denly grasped his pistol, presented it to Hallback's face, and pulled the trigger. The cap snapped, the weapon failed to send its deadly missile into the head of his intend ed victim, and, before he could again cock his pistol, Hallback had drawn his knife and inflicl ed a series of stabs that sent him reeling down again.
Hefflin lingered for weeks between life and death, but slowly recovered. Hallback walked deliberately to jail

ETOWAH.

445

and delivered himself up, and there he remained until his trial for assault with intent to murder took place.
Again subornation of perjury was resorted to by Hefflin, and this time successfully, for at that trial Hallback was convicted.
Hallback had had no opportunity to become familiar with the forms of law, but he had exercised, in this instance, the God-given right of self-preservation.
Negroes in the days of slavery were rarely punished by imprisonment for any offence short of murder. They were, as a rule, ignorant of "vested rights" or "the sacred rights of property." They had never owned any property; and the Dred Scott decision, promulgated but a few years before, declared that they were "chattels" and had no rights which the white man was bound to respect. The slave had little conception of the penalties inflicted by law. There were few negro vagrants in the slavery days ; and the slave realized that loss of labor, or time, was loss of money to his master though of no pecuniary value to himself.
Theft, in the mind of the slave, was not a crime, for he "stole" from his master--usually a hog, or something to gratify his appetite. He noted the fact that the hog which invaded the corn-field was punished by being "penned up"and being liberally fed, that it might make more meat for the master by consuming more corn without having to run the gauntlet for it. The slave himself was punished with the lash for similar depredations. So that the negro's ex emption from criminal prosecution by reascii of slavery, rendered him peculiarly helpless as a freedman, entirely

.446

ETOWAH.

ignorant of "the ways that are dark and the tricks that are vain,"practiced by the dynamite lawyers of the Stunner stripe. Hence, the seeming recklessness which filled the so-called penitentiary with negro convicts.
" Lord of himself, that heritage of woe," Hallback had now no master to appeal (;;--no friend, to whom he could turn for counsel and aid when the merci less hand of the law clutched him by the throat. The young master, from whom he had been partially alienated because of his political affiliations, was absent at the North ; and he felt too sorely the defection of " friends" among people of his own color, to look with sanguine hope even to Henry Latane. Heffiin and Stunner had managed to predjudice many against him by charging him with be ing accessory to the murder of George Washburn.
The world seemed to have turned its back upon this solitary young black man when the turnkey locked the door of his cell.
Behind him were the fruitless struggle of a noble ambi tion ; before him was----what ?
Naught but dark and gloomy forebodings; and thoughts of that revengeful spirit for which "Uncle Barney" had chided him, greeted him as he looked through the bars of his cage to the beautiful blue skies above.
But immediately on his return to Etowah, appeared and confronted him the friend and playmate of his boyhood, the almost constant companion of his manhood days until he had become his own master. An officer accompanied Henry Latan6, ar.d new hope took the place of outraged despair as Henry Latand said to him : "I have come to

if

ETOWAH.

447

take yon out of this jail, Hall.; I have become your bonds man, and your case shall be carried to the Supreme Court, and I will exhaust half my fortune to clear you of this charge, if necessary."
Thus Hallback was released on bond ; but he had never violated a confidence reposed in him, and he disregarded the suggestions made to him that he should flee the coun try. Months passed, and lie promptly reported and sur rendered himself for trial before that august court which claims to right the errors of "the court below."
The Chief Justice was now presiding over the Supreme Court of the State in a case involving the sentence to hard labor for twenty years oi the foremost young negro leader of the party of which he had been for years the acknowl edged head.
He had not anticipated that this contingency could be possible, when he became the lessee of the "long-term, ablebodied convicts," before his elevation to the Supreme bench. To his fertile brain it was clear that his profits could not be less than two hundred dollars a day, for the "Lessee ef Convicts," unlike the humane slave-holders of the past, did not look after or concern himself about the welfare of the dependent families of the doomed men con fided to his control by the merciless haods of the law.
If the decision of the court below be affirmed, then ifc would be his duty to condemn the prisoner to work for twenty years in mines in which he was pecuniarily very largely interested. But how can a Chief Justice be dis qualified from presiding in such cases if interest proves

448

ETOWAH.

:;;|

stronger than conscience ? In the days of slavery there?;:;

had been five consumers to one laborer, and the expense:;:;;

of supporting the non-workers devolved upon the master,;;;

So that this legal slavery, born of emancipation, conceivettii:

in the crafty brain of these so-called friends of the eman-;; ;

cipated slaves, became five-fold more profitable than the.;;

.slavery which had existed before the war.

;;;

Hallback realized now the truth of old Barney's warn-:::

ings, and the statement made to him by Colonel Barnumji;

that the only interest strangers, who lived a thousand miles::

distant, could possibly feel for the negro was to use himte

further their own schemes.

i

He wrote to those among the white Radicals who had

iseemed so loyally his friends in the time of his great influ

ence over his race, but not one answered his appeals, and

not one visited him in the felon's cell.

i

He had urged his people to unite with him in petitioning

for the restoration of the civil law, and his appeals had been

met with attempted assassination. He who had only exer

cised the right of self-defence, and had voluntarily delivered

himself a prisoner, was now about to be tried for a crime

which might result in a sentence worse than death.

Hefflin, on the contrary, aided by his rich allies and his

astute attorney, John Bull Stunner, had been legally ac

quitted. And this ex-slave asked himself a question which

our wisest judges may well consider, viz.: ''Does the execu

tion of the modern written law protect the innocent poor,

or punish the rich who are guilty, as well as those of Moses

written thousands of years ago, did ?"

Deep sympathy for the prisoner was evident before the

I:

ETOWAH.

449

|;opening of the court, and the negro janitor tip-toed around :::ihe chamber while dusting the court-room as if he was afraid j;;of disturbing the solemn quiet which prevailed. The law;: jers conversed in low tones. The prominence of the bonds:;;men who had stood by Hallback in the hour when all others i had deserted him, the high character of the attorney for the : defence, and the remarkable individuality of tie young ne; gro prisoner, combined to bring together a large and intelli; 'gent audience at the trial. Every argument had been ex:::bausted, and the court convened to announce its decision on
this case, and proceed to the consideration of another. ''The .imills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind exceeding i-small."
i: Hallback seemed the realization of Victor Hugo's words: i "The convict, without society except that of convict slaves like himself; without clothing except the striped uniform of the convict; without reward for his labor; without a bed ;;except the plank with the number marked thereon ; without :.aname except that number; with nothing to look forward to except the monotony of a painful and laborious life dur; ing the term of his sentence, is indeed a pitiable object." Bul now and then he caught the re-assuring glance of Henry Latane1, which seemed to say, "I will do all that mortal man can to set you free," and his eyes filled with tears. And anon, as he looked to where John Hefflin sat and met the vindic tive malice that glanced from that villain's eyes, his man acled hands clenched nervously and his eyes blazed with a defiance that death alone can stifle. He seemed like a caged lion at bay.
Even cupidity will not tempt a Jew to swear away the life or liberty of another Jew, and if the negro was as stead-
29

450

"TOWAH.

::

fast to his race as the Israelite to his, a solid negro pa?

would be a possibility. But the two potent agencies whi(p::

have caused the Indian to pale away before the Caucasiawi-lf

wt.isky and bribe money--were brought to bear against tigs!

young negro thus isolated and thus defenceless.

:M

As the Justices filed into the court-room, headed by tbss:

Chief Justice himself, they appeared dignified and learnefe:

The Chief Justice waved his associates to their seats; his nads:;

to the sheriff was more stiff, and his " open the court" less::

audible than usual. It was evident that he presided wills-!

reluctance over this trial. A few moments later he sai8<!

turning to one of the associate justices:

::

''Justice Blanton, have you any announcement to make?'':::

Justice Blanton responded:

:

"In Hallback against the people of this State, number 48,::

advisement docket."

:

The Chief Justice turned the leaves of the court docket to ;

the case indicated, when the Justice read the decision of the:

court. The manner of Justice Blanton showed how reluc-:

tantly he performed the duty he had been delegated by his

associates to perform. He announced that "the judgment

of the court below is affirmed" (the sentence had been hard

labor in the penitentiary for twenty years) "as to defendant

in indictment, and that it be carried into effect by the sheriff

of Etowah county without^delay."

The judgment of the court was unanimous; Hallback

bowed his head and seemed aged in a moment, Henry La-

tane grasped his hand firmly and said to him : " Hall, I

would have done just as you did; you are no more of a crim

inal than I am; we have done all that could be done for you,

but I shall apply for a pardon every four years, as a new

Governor is elected, until I get you released."

;:'

ETOWAH.

451

;H "God bless you, Marse Henry! God bless you!" was all |)kt poor Hallback could say as he was led back to prison

p.; No one could blame the Chief Justice or his associates, who Soild not have legally decided otherwise, but never was iKsVmpathy more universally felt for a prisoner. All coun tries have, of necessity, penal institutions, and to endeavor H::;i0 dispense with them is Utopian. |; ; But it was reserved for America, "the home of the ^oppressed of all nations," to make the penitentiary a system : ;;to enrich avaricious individuals rather than to reform the^eriminals. : : ; Money is the lever which moves the world and monarchs ::;pay tribute to it. Humanity lives and labors for it. But :::never, perhaps, was the assertion that " the love of money is ;;; the root of all evil "better illustrated than in the convict : lease system which prevails in many of the Southern States. : :The "black hole of Calcutta" is little worse than the mines ::-where Hallback was, by this decree, forced to delve for twen ty years that a few rich men may -be made fabulously rich.
Silvio Pellico, in his noted work, " My Prisons," has made the dungeons in the Castle of Spielberg famous the world : over. And the civilized world read the history of Austrian tyranny, as illustrated by that imprisonment of eleven years, with a sympathy which developed a public sentiment that revolutionized the method of punishing political criminals.
His crime was an undying love for his native land, a pa triotism that defied prison bars to the end, when solitary con finement had shattered his health and bent the feeble frame which held his indomitable spirit until the grave claimed its own.

452

ETOWAH.

But Silvio Pellico never described any refinement of ture equal to that to which Hallback was subjected by tM|lllf conviction, which gave evident satisfaction to Detective Hi;|p lin. His vindictive malice could now feel sated, for it lssi| certainly inflicted a terrible vengeance on this young leadsis of the " Torch Bearers"--this rival for leadership of ill? ignorant and easily duped freedmen. Hallback had defiitl him then, and he defied him now, though defiance from;a;!: helpless, shackled convict was apparently harmless; y$;.; none who saw the threatening gesture of that black, mana-l: cled hand, and the indignant hatred of Hallback's eys,| could wonder that the malignant wretch, who had by subors-s ed testimony accomplished his ruin, should cast down Ml; eyes and keep them thus until the prisoner was led away. ::;

CHAPTER XXXIX.
CA IEA.
Mrs. LaGrange seemed to have found her child again upon : whom she doted with all a mother's love. Though Emile remained in the asylum in New York, and was thus as one dead to her, yet this pale but lovely girl, so patient in her long suffering, so thoughtfully appreciative of the slightest kindness, had endeared herself to and softened the heart of the once selfish, worldly Mrs. LaGrange.
In winning the love of Emile LaGrange, in spite of all her efforts to prevent it, she had made an enemy whose sel fish malice seemed utter heartlessness.
In being the only person whom Emile remembered during Ms mental aberration, and, therefore, the only means by which he could be restored to health in mind and body, it became absolutely essential that she should not leave the household which had so long depended upon her while re garding her as a dependent.
Her letters in reply to those of the unfortunate young man in the inebriate asylum were so full of magnanimity, the gentlest consideration and character, that they aston ished while they charmed Mrs. LaGrange; and yet it needed a "scene" to bring these facts out, and when Mr?. L< Grange had nearly killed her with that speechless grief, the very eloquence of silence which followed the sudden pallor, the failing of the limbs and look of sudden pain, alarmed her and inspired a remorse similar to that of a murderer. Her own feelings as suddenly changed from hate

454

ETOWAH,

to love, from envy to compassion, from malicious

tious to the most untiring watchfulness and care. She coultl;

scarcely believe it possible that this Julia was the proud::

imperi rasly proud governe s, but rather she seemed UD-:::

earthly in her patience and loveliness.

::::

Her fijure had lost its plumpness now, and the large eyeg:: ;

had a lustre, and seemed so deep sunken as to seem unnatural,::

yet beautiful beyond description. The sweet face smiled::

gently, and the voice, though weak, had the same sweet in

tonation.

"Thank you, Mrs. LaGrange; you are too good and kind!

How shall I ever repay you ? "

" Hush, Julia! don't call me Mrs. LaGrange any more. I

am your mother now, and I love you just as much as I do

any of my children. Henceforth you are to be my

adopted daughter."

Julia feebly protested, but Mrs. LaGrange playfully closed

her mouth with her hand, then kissing the invalid, said:

" Don't worry now, my child; go to sleep; you need rest."

Julia smiled and closed her eyes as if to sleep. The even

ing sun was all aglow; the window was open and the west

ern sky seemed never lovelier as Julia watched it from her

sick bed.

* Am I going there?" she muttered, unconsciously.

" JSTo, my darling; you are going to New York with me."

"Did I speak, Mrs. LaGrange, or did you interpret my

thoughts?" asked Julia, turning her eyes upon her nurse.

" You spoke, my dear, and very foolishly, too. Don't you

know I can't spare you to God yet."

Julia smiled. "I did not know that I had spoken. Do

you think I should go to heaven if I should die? "

"Of fourse I do, child. You are the best and sweetest

ETOWAH.

455

igirl I ever saw, and I don't believe you ever had a wicked' il^thought, in all your life." Then she added, cheerfully: ." But Mil tell you, Julia, if you don't get well in two weeks I am s;; going to leave you. I have engaged rooms for us all at Lake :;;KGeorge, and don't intend to be delayed." 'ill But Julia was not too sick to perceive that this language :: was forced, for Mrs. LaGrange, in turning her head to : avert her face, had let fall a tear upon the thin, wasted hand , which she held in her own.
" If I do not leave you before then," said Julia, slowly and sadly, " I will go with you, Mrs.--mother! "
It was the first time in her life she had ever uttered that word, " mother." She had never known a mother, and now she began to feel how much happier her life would have bsen if she had, as a child, been petted and caressed as she was now.
"This is worth getting sick for," she added, as Mrs. LaGrange kissed her forehead time and again, and thanked her as a mother would a wronged child whom she held again to her yearning bosom.
'My child! my child! my child!" she said as all the lov ing tenderness of her heart welled to the surface, and she saw, with unfeigned anxiety, the growing weakness of the invalid.
The sun sank slowly away behind the hill-clouds and the gathering shades of twilight appeared, and still Julia fol lowed the departing rays with her eyes as if she was never to see them again on earth. Her hand was still clasped in that of her weeping friend who could no longer conceal her fears. Then as suddenly she sank into a gen'le slumber.
This, the first sickness Julia Bearing ever had, developed

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ETOWAH.

::1:

her exceeding depth of character as well as her patience, an<l|

that gentleness which had hitherto been latent.

';;

It did more: it developed a tenderness of feeling and &;|

gentleness of manner in the Creole la^y which her nearest:::;

friends were agreeably surprised, to observe.

';;;

; Is there not in every woman's nature a hidden sentiment:::

of love, affection and unselfishness, that needs but the right::

influence to bring it into action ? / Touch that hidden chord:;;

and love responds like the genial"sunshine of spring. Iso

late the human heart from kindred fellowship, and it is :

warped, or silenced, or blighted as the nipping frost of an- ;

tumn cuts down the plant, and hope dies a lingering death.

Whether Mrs. LaGrange was conscious of the change

which her own nature had undergone, or whether she was

reflecting upon the necessity for every heart to find an object

upon which it can lavish its affection, her devoted atten

tions increased and Julia was more than interested as she

heard her kind, watchful friend read from a New York

paper. Julia was convalescing rapidly ; the night succeed^

ing the evening described above decided the crisis and de

cided it in her favor, thanks to her superb constitution.

"Read that again, please, Mrs. LaGrange," she said. Mrs.

LaGrange read the statement of the death of a beggar in

New York. The old woman had once been a stewardess on

an Atlantic vessel, and had died of exposure and suppjsed

sta 1 vation. But in her humble room was d scovered in va

rious trunks and receptacles a singular array of wealth.

There were dresses of the most costly texture of a style worn

a half :entury ago, handkerchiefs of exceeding fineness, and

silks which would have kept her in comfort all her life if

they had been sold. In one of the dresses, sewed within its

folds, was a bank-book which showed 1 hat $> 12,000 was placed

I-

ETOWAH,

457

|to Ler credit in a savings bank in the city. Two other books |sbo ed $50,000 more in other banks. "How singular!" said ::,mlia. "It seems to me a sin to use so much money on tone's self, but to hoard it in that manner, so as to benefit ;;ao one, and die as she had lived, a seeming pauper, seems ; woree than sinful."
"Wait a moment, Julia, let me read further ; I think she : was a very noble character. I don't think .we can ever know "others, or even ourselves, until we have been tried; and'you ;: know I am not a moralist generally, but, on the contrary, i.nntil recently I have never thought life worth having except ' for the pleasure it affords us."
The description ended with a brief will, made by the old woman thirty years previous to her death, leaving her for tune todecrepid seamen for whom a home was to bs founded.
"Who would have thought such a rough, coarse, harsh ; old creature as this crone was thought to be, could be the author of such a charity ? " said Mrs. LaG-range
"I would, perhaps, if I had known her," said Julia. " Did you ever know any person of that class, my dear ? " " 0 yes, indeed; I believe I have no better friend than a poor old factory woman, whose charity I honor more than that of Peabody or VanderbiU. I would not underrate any of the grand achievements of the^e benefactors to whom, as a Southener, I feel the deepe t gratitude; but the best char ity is that which is dispensed by the poor who, needing all that they have for their own c.imfort and subsistence, dpnv themselves the necessities of life to aid those more needy than themselves. I have never known a nobler character than that of Mrs. Higgins." " Who was, or is, Mrs. Higgins ? " asked Mrs. LaGrange-.

458

ETOWAH.

" A poor, bed-ridden, rheumatic factory woman, and, as |s|i

said, a friend of mine."

:;;|$|

" Well, Julia, I do declare; you are the greatest girl I ever!!

knew I "

;||

" Please don't flatter mp, or speak in that way, Mrssi

LaGrange. I used to thiuk myself too strong 1o need peMl;

ting, but you have taught me t'sat the sweetest feeling :ai;

woman can have is that she is dependent upon others forl

love, and has found friends who overrate and spoil her." if

"B~ess your precious heart, my dear child!" said ttef

enthusiastic woman, kissing her repeatedly and thanking;U

Heaven for this new experience.

?;

Mrs. LaGrange, when a young, pretty girl, had married :

an old man for his wealth. She gained all that she sought, ;

except happiness; gold can't buy that, nor can the young

heart so a^apt itself to circumstances as to happily mate

with an aged, sordid, miserly man. Such a man was Mr.

LaGrange.

When he died she seemed like a bird out of its gilded

prison, although she studiously observed the conventional

customs due to his memory.

In course of time she became as gay as she had been quiet

.and depressed during her husband's life.

People courted the wealthy young widow, whose hospital

ity was unbounded. That hospitality wrecked the feeble

minded Emile, who inherited his mother's giddy fondness

for dissipation.

At thirty-five, Mrs. LaGrange had already become sated

with this exciting life, and ennui threatened to make her as

discontented and morose as she had been when a voung

bride. Julia alone had touched the hidden chord of her

nature which now vibrated in responsive fones. Here a

ETOWAH.

459

girl had wrought that change which in early life a Msuitable marriage, based on mutual love, would have SeSected, H: : The two women had instructed each other, and an incu:|>HS seemed lifted from each of them. :. "How can I ever repay you for your kindness to me, my iflear friend; but for your nursing I would have died?" said ; Julia.
" By remaining with me all your life, my child, my ebild! You have taught what neither religion nor life could teach me before: that ' it is better to give than to receive;' yet if I did not receive your affection, I should be as selfish, i: I fear, as I was before I knew how dear you were to me. It i: is I who am your debtor, therefore, but I would have you : think otherwise in order to enforce the penalty; you must ;. make up your mind to be my adopted child, Julia; I can't spare you now."
Julia smiled and kissed Mrs. LaGrange affectionately, saying: " We will not talk about that now ; I can hardly repay you for giving me a home so long as you contemplated ; but for the present we will not think of separation. Please send my little friends to me; I feel strong enough now to resume my place as governess."
Although still confined to her room and her bed, Julia Dealing's natural energy had returned to her, and her sense of the obligation thus incurred made her desirous of doing all in In r power.
It was in this frame of mind that she consented to accom pany her to New York.
Colonel Barnum hid returned to New York, and had writ ten to Colonel Leslip, stating the unsuccessful results of his

ETOWAH.
mission. " I did not succeed," he wrote, and made no all s : on to his having met Julia Bearing.
But Julia and Mrs. LaGrjnge were destined to undergo:; many experience? before they met Emile LaGrange again,: Subtle influences were at work, which resulted in thai; young gentleman's escape from the inebriate asylum.
His escape was not an accident or due to negligence so much as to a deep'y-la d plan by which certain adventurers: of foreign birth designed to get possession of his fortune.
There is no law granting t'ie right of primogeniture, or of entailing estates, in the United States, and hence this coun try is not a legitimate field for anarchists; and socialism,, communism, Red-Republicanism, are not yet recognized factors. Emboldened, however, by the success of Black-Re publicanism, which denies to Mongolians and the aboriginal owners of oiir soil, the Indians of North America, the right of citizenship while demanding for negro slaves, these foreign "isms" were exotics as ye'i
But at the time of which we write the apostles of these " isms" were knocking at ou doors in New York and in New Orleans. In the latter -.y they had learned of the wealth and loose habits of Emile LaGrange and marked him as one of their first victims.
Vice held toward him her beauteous, jewelled arms, and the inane brain of the effeminate you"1*1! saw, reeled and fell.
He was followed to New York, and one of their number secured admission into the inebriate asylum apparently for the legitimate purpose of being cured of alcoholism. Thus he was thrown in the society of Emile LaGrange.
The generous heart of Emile LaGrange, before his feeble

;:

ETOWAH.

461

fimind was further enfeebled by excessive alcoholic indul gence, was ever ready to subscribe to benevolent objects. |: Now, that he was a victim to the phantoms conjure^ from githe diseased brain by drink, he did not appreciate that the ^associate who claimed to be similarly a slave to alcohol was :(;:at heart and in fact a brutal criminal appointed by a secret ;;: political society to "shadow" him. And day by day he in: stilled into his diseased brain the doctrines of communism
and the absurd doctrine that no one had the right to own property. By what method he learned of the wealth of Emile LaGrange we do not know, but certain it is that he determined to appropriate it for the benefit nominally of poor . suffering humanity, but. really that he and his associates-- row fugitives from justice, outlawed in their native country end bearing the mark of Cain upon their faces--might con tinue their nefarious work and live here, as they had lived there, without labor. Suffice it to say, he improved his op portunities, and Emile LaGrange, with a hundred reckless spirits aiding him to evade detection, successfully eluded the search for him. At intervals, as the truth dawned upon him that gradually his better instincts were being drowned in liquor, now freely furnished him, that he might become the more pliant tool of his so-called friends, he would en deavor to escape from them. But as often was his feeble opposition overcome, and he became an involuntary prison er seemingly by his own act. He wrote letters full of affec1 ion to his mother, whom he thought in New Orleans, and other letters full of love to Julia, assuring her that his future was in her hands. These letters never reached their desti nation, and, receiving no replies, he imagined himself neg
lected, and became morose and reckless. Now, it was

462

BTOWAH.

thought, "the pear is ripe," and they made

cordingly.

Regrets haunted him, but regret? are useless. Around tap

Colonne Vendome in Paris, wreaths, upon which are inscrifeg$|;

"Regrets," were placi d regularly by the veterans who :fols|

lowed the first Napoleon.

iiiiil

The empire falls and amid its death-throes the

rises. Many who have placed daily these wreaths

this monument to the her.) of Prance embark wildly in $s<j|;

new movement which has for its slogan, "Liberte, EgalU^

Fraternite."

;; : ;;s:

The rights of the people I Who despise them more thsa-O

they? With them fury usurps the authority of the law. They:::

cast down the monument to the "Grand Empereur," oves^::;

turn the Colonne Vendome! They raze to t' e ground what::;

has taken generations lo build and beautify, the historie;

Palace of The Tuileries. And they imagine that this is :

patriotism I Above the saloon and cafe of Edmond Megy,, a :

French Communist refugee, was the meeting place of the : :

associates of Emile LaGrange.

:

"Come this way," said the leader, who was still a young

man. He had closed the front door of the caf, and opened.

a side entrance, which was in visible except to the initiated.

A pressure of the hand upon the brick touched a concealed

spring, and a door opened and admitted them.

This cafe was in the centre of the city, and a more retired

locality can hardly be found in New York. Upon one side

were the ever-living streams of people and vehicles, which

make Broadway the busiest street in the world. Near by is

the still more uproarious Third Avenue culminating in the

famous Bowery. Not far distant is Bleecker street, where

the French Communist refugees resided. It was the occa-

ETOWAH.

483

the annua.i nquet of the "Societe des Refugies efe:: IGommune, or Societe Internationale." Edmond Megy:: -
party within, who arose and returned the salutaThen he took his seat at the head of the table as Presi pipit of the Society. He was the leader of the party who pilot Archbishop Darboy, of Pa is, and his four priests, in the bloody days of the French Revolution, when a |0arat and a Robespierre ruled with the bloody hand, Megy, Issthe most brutal of the assassins, was accorded the highest plsnors of the society. Thus brutal are they who claim to Is? the champions of humanity. Megy spoke. Mgy was sfen in 1844. Before the republic was declared he had killed |S gendarme, had been condemned to transportation for fSwenty years therefor, had been released when the Empire Ifell, fought in the French army till peace was declared, as hamed the prefecture of Marseilles under the Commune, arfresting his predecessor, and finally, returning to Paris, was ligiven the command of Fort d'lssy. After burning.the palace f;f the Legion of Honor--named in honor of the "Legion" |i established by the great Napoleon--and shooting the Arch:: bishop, he fled, escaping via Geneva to London. A.S the first ;/ speaker concluded his rapidly narrated story, introducing I Megy to them, the members of the society held up the right : hand and cried, "Vive la Commune!" .Justus, the famous German Communist, and Meille, Finniel, Martelet, Lacaz and other French Communists were fresent. Red flags and placards, inscribed, "Vive la Com mune," "the laws must be submitted to the people," and similar mottoes adorned the hall. At the other end of the table sat citizen Winton, managing editor of the New York Soleil, Vice-President. Citizen Winton welcomed them. He was proud, he said, "to extend another welcome to the

464

ETOWAH.

';;;;

refugees of the Paris Commune, and to those victims s

martyrs of right and justice, those men who had been tbMs|||||

condemned to death." He "could only add that he regretl||f|

not being able to welcome them to a republic worthy of i&gjj

hopes and aspirations." Then he called for curses on itll

memory of Thiers. Megy applauded the speech of the miSs

aging editor of the great French democratic daily voei|@|i|;

ously as "citizen Winton" concluded. Again Megy ys^pj

called upon to state his history and why and where (he Arsi-ll

bishop of Paris was shot. Evidently these humanitarian!!:

thirsted for bloody recitals if they could not sh d blood. .:;s;|f

Megy next spoke, and the recital recalled the worst dm:j|i

of the rule of the Jacobins of old. After rapidly narrati:apl

the closing scenes of the bloody days of the French Cpm|;i

mune. the speaker, often quoting from the works of Proii&i;;;!

hon and the Abbe Constant to enforce his extreme socialistic:::;

views, made this startling threat concerning America aii<V;

the Government of the United States:

"-\ :::::

" Under the name of Nihilists we have invaded the very:;::!

Palace of the despotic Czar of all the Russias. The most:::

educated Muscovites, like the students of the Petrovsky:::

University at Moscow, are there enrolled as Nihilists ps;;;

United Sclavonians. Throughout Poland and Lithuania.:::

throughout Germany and among the "Trades Unions" in::

Great Britain, are active Nihilists, who have sworn to level::

privileges and share property.

::

" The state of affairs in France before the revolution of '89 ; ;;

is being repeated here. The only thing that has staved off

.a revolution so far is that the working-men are making the

mistake of mixing up in politics and looking to an amend

ment of the laws and the election of working-men to office :

for their remedy. The working-men's organizations are so'

ETOWAH.

465

liSxious .jO make their own government that they forget that ||| change of laws does not mean a change of system, which |I what they want. They work on the surface only. Legal Ipfithods are all wrong; whatever is legal is anti-revolutionpry ; revolution is never legal. Laws made by one set of Iptea are as bad as laws made by another. This is what we lire teaching the people, and they are learning it slowly. :J| "They call this a republic. It is no more a republic than firance is. In France it was the aristocracy of birth that llrought on the revolution; here it is the aristocracy of :::;money, which is worse. Great fortunes like those of Stewsjirt, Astor and Vanderbilt are sure indications of the misery M the people. In Paris it was the same thing. It is so Here in New York. " I tell you," exclaimed Megy, taking ia big drink and becoming excited by reason of that, or with Ms theme, or both--"I tell you that the people will rise, ::and the governments know it! Look at the strikes here last :?ear. The working-man is beginning to learn his rights, and Mil not be long in asserting them by force. The Commune, ;as we tried it in Paris, will come here; it will be brought on :by the misery and oppression of the people. The workingmen may not want it, but it will come in spite of them." : "And how about America?" cried a voice. : " In the United States, if the manufacturers continue to oppress the working-men, it will be necessary to upset them if corporations throttle industry to strangle it. Organizations are being completed everywhere--in New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Paterson, Newark. We have correspondents everywhere. A revolution cannot be fore seen, of course; but I see its elements here distinctly. It will come in the opposite way to what it did in France.
30

466

ETOWAH.

There it is not the poor who revolt; it is the i

working-men; but here it is the most miserable. A revolisi:

tion here means a cry for bread, arson, robbery and violeag|

The triumph of the people is eventually certain. The csojg

ing of a revolution is first necessary, and a revolution h;pg

means the Commune. Three-quarters of the inhabitants

of New York are crowded into one-quarter of the buildinp

which occupy the island

;;;;;;;

"The poor are oppressed by the rich, deceived by the

priests, and plundered by the tax-gatherers and internal:

revenue collectors! The rich are getting richer, the pe&r:

poorer, and until the spirit which animated Marat and Robsfi?;:sfii

pierre brings about a sweeping political and social revoljfcWfli

tion here, there can be no moral and material amelioratioHg;!!||

for the working-men."

iiiiiiilli

Herr Vost was the next speaker. During his speech liss;;;|||

said:

:^::ll|

"Do they think we are going to remain quiet and allow oti?: ;;f||

friends to die an ignominious death? Arm yourselves, ansS iilll

for every drop of blood that is shed from our friends let i:;;;|||

cost a human life. I am not alone an anarchist, but also a;:;:!|;

revolutionist. Capitalists shall be the first to suffer. N4,!;;;l;|

one shall escape his just dues. The jurors, the judges and ::::||

detective spies will not sleep very soundly at present. Let \;;|

them beware." [Wild yells and cheers from the crowd.] :::::!

"Anarchists, we have no respect for these laws by which our ,:; ; ;.;|

brothers die. As revolutionists we are fearless. The time is :; ;;|;

approaching when we will be forced to use firearms."

;1

Hardly had he concluded, when a young man with blood- ; ; :;

shot eyes and thick utterance rose from his seat and, raising J::

his glass, cried:

''Long live the Commune '. As an American Communist..-. :'::

If;."

BTOWAH.

467

|;; drink to the health of citizen Megy !" The group of Comjfiisiunists bowed to the speaker, and the clicking of glasses that i|:|bllowed was hesitating at first, for these men were well dis|::dplined and this was as unexpected as it was unauthorized |:;in one who had been sworn in only that day. Besides, the s ; young man was evidently intoxicated. I;;;-;- A voice seemed to have been heard by him, for he dropped S : Ms glass upon the table and tottered to the door, wildly lookis < ing in every direction, and stepped into the street. Several :i :'.Communists started to follow him, when they were arrested iii by a sign from President Megy, who said audibly but firmly: :' "Let him go ; he is crazy, and can do us no good. We will ; prevent ids doing harm if necessary." : He reached the flag-stones of the pavement on the oppo
site side of the street and fell upon the sidewalk, exclaim ing: "Great God! What have I done?'' His limbs straightened out like a dead man's. A policeman came from the opposite corner and rapidly approached the prostrate fig ure. He bent down, seized the fallen man's hand and felt his pulse. Then casting it back roughly with the excla mation, "drunk !" he stepped aside and rapped with his ba ton on the pavement three times.
Emile seemed in an epileptic fit ; his limbs were drawn back and forth, convulsively, and great drops of perspiration clustered upon his brow.
Finally Emile opened his eyes, and seemed suddenly so bered, then closed them again, saying: " I died and went to heaven, and saw Julia."
The officers taking him by the hands and arms lifted him to his feet.
Then the policemen bore the unfortunate youth away. They were followed by two "citizens" from the "society."

CHAPTER XLI.

AT THE LIBRARY.

i : ii||

"Night has a thousand eyes,

;^:;S

The day but one;

::::;:;

"Yet the light of the whole world dies

::::

With the setting sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,

;::*:;

The heart but one;

. ;';*

Yet the light of the whole life dies

;;;;;

When love is done."

:::;:

The plan of Mrs. LaGrange to visit Lake George and;!

spend the summer in the beautiful region of the Adiron^;;:;

dacks was thus brought to a sudden termination. Hardly;;

had Julia recovered sufficiently to leave her room, whett

Mrs. LaGrange entered the chamber, pale and almost speech-;;

less. She held in her hand a telegram, and sinking into a;

chair she handed it to Julia. It was as follows:

;

" NEAR RANDALL'S ISLAND, N. Y. " MRS. LAGRANGE--Your son, Emile LaGrange, escaped from the asylum last night. It is probable that he is in New York city, and we think it very advisable that he should be returned to the Asylum for Inebriates. If not delayed too long, we think the young gentleman may be permanently restored. We respectfully suggest that you aid us to effect his return. Respectfully, etc."

Again their positions were reversed. Julia was now the comforter and counsellor; Mrs. LaGrange as helpless and yielding as a child.

|;;:

ETOWAH.

469

|;; In a very short time they were en route to New York; ::;:and 'with increasing responsibilities came increasing ;;; strength to Julia. Mrs, LaGrange spent most of her time in ;: her room in one of the hotels, sick at heart and perplexed, :i: and unable to exert herself. One afternoon Julia, at her ;; request, took the children with her to Madison Square. : : Birds flitted from tree to tree, and little children played with ; those under her charge. The little girls now called her ;: "sister," and she could not find it in her heart to reprove
them. As she sat there watching the little innocents play ing near (he great fountain, which ca.<-t its crystal gems atoss in the sunlight, a tall manly form passed by her. His head was bent intently to his companion, a young lady, whose arm clasped his in that fond, trusting manner which women only assume to those whom they love most. She was a beautiful girl, with graceful, lissome figure and charming appearance altogether.
Julia gave a start as of sudden recognition; surely she knew that stalwart form and that deep, earnest voicrf which said as he rapidly walkf d past, "My darling, you must go with me; I can't go without you," and then the couple was lost amid the throng which passed through Madison Square.
Julia sat like an inanimate figure, with blanched cheeks and hands closely clenched in sudden anguish.
" Et tu Brute!" And thou, Brutus! Of all the men on earth she had trusted Colonel Barnum as a man, like Cajsar's wife, " above suspicion." Of all men he would be steadfast and true, and no other woman could ever hope to claim Col onel Barnum's heart, which she had felt was exclusively hers. And this, too, in spite of her repeated rejections of his ardent and long-continued suit. "Did he not declare that

470

ETOWAH. -

:';;S|*

be would always love me, and me only ? " she asked herssiflii;

"Did lie not urge me to answer immediately, so that iie:|:

could put as great a distance as possible between us if I di<||

not reciprocate his love? How could I remain quiet--mi

fuse to tell him all that I longed to tell him until I drov||

him away from me forever! Alas! who and what aisi

I?" Around her sat the Irish nurses and French Bonmi*p:

who spoke to her at first as if she were one of their own clatisp

until she turned her lovely face to them and replied witlp

that indefinable courtesy and dignity which at once distrait

guish the lady from the servant. They changed their mas-Hi

ner instantly, but looked curiously at her occasionally, an&t

whispered among themselves concerning this strange lady::-

who seemed to assume the role of nurse.

:::

Now she seemed oblivious to all around her, and gazed infe::

the waters of the fountain as if to search after some hidden:::

mystery which environed her life. " My darling, you must::

go with me; I can't go without you." These words sounded:;:

again and again like a threatening echo; and the more she::

dwelt on them the more mysterious and unaccountable they

seemed. The birds twitted as blithely, the children were as:;

joyous as they, but a great pall seemed to be shrouding her

heart. "Was she his wife? Is he married? But two

months have passed since he bade me farewell in New Or

leans. Ah! If he only knew my heart--if he only knew

how dearly I have paid for the diffidence which prevented

my telling him how much I loved him."

" Come, sister dear, the sun is setting, and mama is alone,

you know," said little Marie, throwing her arms around

Julia's neck and kissing her affectionately.

"Turn along, sis; mama sick," said the youngest child.

If;

ETOWAH.

471

Hi; :1 Bless your aear little hearts!" said Julia, takingthem by

pjisehand and leading them away.

- :;

flp The Irish girls exchanged glances significantly; one point-

fpd to her head and ejaculated, "Dazed? "

II :\ "No," said another; "misfortunate; that is all."

pi;;; "You are both wrong," said a third; "she is a lady--a

fIBouthern lady what used to own a hape o' nagurs; now she

Ifims to serve out loike any other poor folk."

|p "That's a mistake," said a fourth; "she is the sister of the

Piittle girls. I heard them speak to her."

|P "Whatever she may be," said another, "she's a horn lady

Pffith a good heart; see how she walks. The Princess of

pW'ales can't beat her for looks!"

p: These comments would have been utterly lost upon Julia,

peven had she heard them. As it was, she walked like one

f ;in a trance, so unconscious of the admiring glances cast

pupon her that her modest mien attracted attention and

;;;;friendly criticism.

;;: In all large cities, beautiful girls have to pass through the

:;:trying ordeal of being gazed at and stared at by rude men.

; But it was a new experience to Julia Bearing, whose cheeks

: had often burned with indignation, for she had been raised

, where the respect for the gentler sex is the most prominent

characteristic. On this occasion, however, she did not seem

to see anything to avoid, but the thought uppermost in her

mind she confided to no one.

Mrs. LaGfrange observed her changed manner, and it was a

relief to her to endeavor to cheer her young friend.

" Julia. I fear you are taxing your strength too much. I will

take the children with me this evening to the concert; it is

possible I might find Ernile there. He used to be very fond

of music, and I learned at the bank that he drew all the

'472

ETOWAH.

;iill!

money he had on deposit two weeks ago. The cashier;|s|lf

formed me that his manner was quiet and natural--and .sfpi

I am so hopeful that I will have my son returned to 85|;f

free from the terrible sin of intemperance."

: ;;|||

The afternoon was oppressively hot. At New York :;is;f

midsummer the days are an hour longer than in Etowaisp;

and there is an hour longer for the heat to accumulate froEps

the rays of the sun, and one hour less time at night for tfesl

heat to be carried off by radiation. Hence these Southejgf;

ladies suffered more from the heat than they would hay&l

done at home.

: ;;;S;

After a restless night Julia threw open the window of hecs

room in the quiet and sumptuous hotel at Lafayette Plaeup

and looked out upon the serene heavens. With a weary;0

sigh she exclaimed, " Since it has come to this, I wish it wa&;

my time to go there, where all trouble at least will cease, t;;

am already useless here, for a good strong servant could takev:

my place, except the place I have in Mrs. LaGrange's heart ;

and the hearts of her dear little daughters. Other teachers;; 1

more competent than I am will take my place, and I feel I

must again seek occupation, or this dull pain in my head

will wreck my brain."

She shuddered. "No, no ! I am stronger than that; grief

does not kill, nor will misfortune be charitable enough to

slay; but does it make people worse or better ? Am I as fit

to die, as fit to live, as when riches were at my disposal and

buoyant health made physical effort necessary? I was

happy then, and all my time was occupied--in what man

ner ? It matters not; occupation is the only panacea for such

distress as mine. Occupation I must have, and it must be

mental, creative and subjective only to will. What shall I do?"

ft::

ETOWAH.

473'

fl:. Fortunately Mrs. LaGrange entered at this moment and Ifsaid: "You do not look refreshed, Julia, after your rest last flight. I hope you will not succumb to the dreadful heat. sfiJBut for my premonition that Emile is here, in this city, and fljaeeds my love and care, and that I will find him here |isooner or later, I would insist upon going to Lake George ^immediately. You, my child, are as dear to me as my fown children are, and I will take exclusive control of the fjchildren for the present." :: "Thank you; you are too kind and good to me," Julia replied. :;"! will stay here as long as you wish to remain. I do not need I:rest, but action; sometimes work is rest, I will accept your :;kind offer and spend my morning hours in the library over :\ there, and when you need me, you can send one of my little : sisters for me." : Nothing touched Mrs. LaGrange's heart so much as an : allusion to her adopted relationship by Julia. She placed her arms around the fair young girl and drew her to her, exclaiming, as she had done during her sickness, "My child,, my child, my precious child!"
Two weeks had passed since she saw Colonel Barnum in Madison Square.
The strain upon her nervous system was becoming too severe, and Julia Dearing's brave self-reliance seemed about to succumb.
"Shall I give up all effort now? No ; that would prove me unworthy of success; what other women have accom plished can I not accomplish? The fields of occupation for women are restricted to the needle and literature. I would pine away with the first, but I will take that occupa tion if the second fails me."
Then she went to the window and placed her hands up-

474

ETOWAH.

: ;;::

against it intending to look out into the street in order fox see something which might change the current of her;; thoughts. A strolling minstrel with his hurdy-gurdy and :: monkey were entertaining a group of children on the oppo; site side of the street, but that was not the cause of her sudden agitation; the hand which was between her and the sun-: light, resting on the transparent glass, .was thin, and white and transparent almost as the glass itself. Time after time she had changed her dress to suit her figure, which was growing thinner with alarming rapidity. She stood before the mirroj. and looked at her features, and was shocked to see how thin and pale her face was. "I am absolutely ugly!" she exclaim ed. She had been so much absorbed in her studies recently that this change had escaped her attention. Mrs. LaGrange had noticed it, but not anxiously, for when one is constant ly associated with an invalid, one does not notice the slow but steady inroads of disease.
She had become a frequent visitor at the Astor Library, which was opposite the hotel. She went there the next day, and selecting a seat near a window, she asked the attendant to give her the history of Mexico by the Abbe Brasseur.
"Will you have it in French or the English translation ?" he asked.
"I prefer it as originally written, in French, if you please.'' The rules of the library prohibit any one from taking any book from the reading-rooms. Julia took the four volumes to a table near by and examined them carefully ; then she selected the fourth volume to read first. So interested was she that she did not hear a book fall from the hand of a gentleman who sat at a table not far distant. Colonel Barnum, now an attorney at law, practicing in New York city, had come to the library to consult some

ETOWAH.

4/ 5

iit-pl work, which, he could not find as coveniently else;:y?iere.
Two months had changed her greatly, but he recognized ;;fcer; he had been reading for sometime and was almost ready ;fe> return the book from which he had taken copious notes, s: :::phen, on lifting his head, his eyes fell upon Julia Bearing still
(:i;latently reading. The double shock of seeing her, whom he : jjad left so tremulously in New Orleans, here in New York, ,..;W.d seeing her thus with all the appearance ofaconsumpfs/'tive, so startled him that he dropped his book. |: : She did not hear it, or, hearing, did not heed it. |:i For a few moments he was unable to do more than watch : her with that intensity which only a lover knows, and then, ;: as silently as possible, he walked to where she was, and stand
ing before her said : " Miss Julia, I am glad to see you." She looked up and saw him, trembled, held out her hand, but could not speak for fear the tears would drown her voice in' sobs. She felt instinctively, from his pleading look, though in the presence of strangers, that he loved her as devotedly as ever, but it was all a mystery to her, for she remembered the scene in Madison Square, and heard again his endearing words to the young lady at his side.
"May I ask what you are reading?" said he, for he noticed the curious glances which the ladies and gentlemen present cast upon them, and he wished to spare her feelings as much as possible.
She smiled gratefully and said: "Certainly ; it is a history of Mexico by a French Abbe, who made the subject his study for eighteen years, during many of which he lived in the country. I think European historians excel those of Amer ica greatly, in that they do thoroughly whatever they un dertake. Don't you agree with me ?"

476

ETOWAH.

:::

" I hope you will permit me to accompany yon to----;

hesitated--he would not intentionally say a word to wo

her feelings. She interpreted his considerate delicacy s

immediately said:

;;

"I will be happy to have you do so; we are boarding' j

across the street, or 'way,' as you Northerners term it,::sf:f

the Oriental Hotel, and I am sure that Mrs. LaGrange willl

be delighted to make your acquaintance."

::::|1

The books were returned a few moments later, and tie:-:::

couple left the library. Even then, wasted as Julia was, tei;

manner and appearance were so distinguished that every epg;;

was turned to see her leave the room.

ii::*:

"Who is she ?" said one to the clerk.

p?j

" I don't know--a Southern lady, I think. She is certain-::;:

ly the most charming lady we have had here in a long time.:":::

They met Mrs. LaGrange, and Barnum conversed with::

her formally for a few moments at the door. As he lifted::

his hat and bade them good-day, he said to Julia: "Miss::

Julia, I will call this evening after tea; I have something;:

very important to tell you, and do not wish to postpone it.;;;

another day."

Julia bowed politely, but did not reply. The poor girl's

heart sank again as she thought: "He is engaged to, or mart:

ried to another, and yet I know he loves me; will my trials :

never end?"

They were alone in the great parlor and the windows

were thrown open to admit the air. The conversation

still had been formal and polite, for Barnum, seeing how

feeble she was, wished to prepare her gradually for what he

was about to communicate.

"They are dear little childre-H, and I leve them as if they

ETOWAH.

477

Iwere my sisters," said Julia, as the little girls kissed her goods^ight, and retiring, left them alone.
." Miss Julia, are you strong enough1 to hear some good ews ?" said he, leaning toward her. His voice was tremtr ;;;|ous with emotion, and his tone was indescribably gentle, as i:yere his eyes, which shone with the old love-light. 5;:; "lam always glad to hear good news concerning you, Col::::&nel Bamum. I am sure no one better deserves happiness ; :::ihan yourself. Perhaps it will not surprise me as much as ::;you think; I saw her once; she is very beautiful." ::: "Miss Julia, what on earth are you talking about? said he, ^unconsciously placing one hand on her arm. "You do not suppose that I love any one on earth but you ?" ;i "I hope so, Colonel Barnum," almost inaudibly, for she was surely being tried in the crucible now. r "Bo not say that, Miss Julia; anything but that. After all that I have done to win your love; after all my vain ef; forts to find you again--now that I have found you, do not, I pray you, dash my hopes to the ground and wreck my happiness forever!" " Mr. Barnum, are you free to express yourself thus to me without dishonoring your plighted word to another ?" She said this with her old haughty manner, and looked him in the eyes tranquilly, while her heart was beating as if to burst its bounds. He sank upon his knees--not to court her, he was incapa ble of such weakness as that--but unconsciously, and only in order to have his head and face even with hers, and to see the better. " Miss Julia," he said, " I swear to you no other woman on earth has any claim upon my love but you. I swear to you. by all that is worth living for and dying for, that since

478

ETOWAH.

::;:;

the day I first told you I loved you, no other woman hs||| ever possessed one scintilla of my love, which from that dapl has been wholly given to you, To have borne the disa|^;;;f pointment which has brooded over my heart so long, arniil which but for my duty to my parents and my sister, migblil have crushed out my ambition, was hard indeed; but this---::;: this is the most painful moment of my life!" She curbed:::: her feelings and said nothing. He continued: "Two months::: ago I received a letter from Colonel Leslie urging me to find:::: you, and stating that you had'been discovered to be the sole-:: heir to all the property left by Major Blount at his death:;:;; also that a former debtor of your father's had paid him $20,; 000 for his heirs if any were left. With my sister I went to New Orleans and vainly sought for you. I was told by Mrs. LaGrange's servants that she had gone with you to Lake George for the summer, I went to Lake George; you had not been there. I saw you yesterday. You know all now."
" It was your sister, then!" she murmured, and placing her hands on his head, she drew his face up to hers and kissed him--kissed him as a wife would kiss a husband from whom she had been separated for long years. "I have suffered more than you have, Mr. Barnum, for I have loved you since the day you protected me in the storm. Take me to your heart now, for there would I make my home, if you still love a poor, feeble, ugly creature as 1 am now."
The child a moment before--as dependent upon this frail girl for love as & child ever was upon its mother--was a strong man again. And long and sweetly did they talk as he clashed her hand in his.

CHAPTER XLI.
AT THEONATEESKA.
; "The negroes don't shock me or excite my compassionate l:;feelings at all. They are so grotesque and happy that I can't
cry over them. The little black imps axe trotting and grin ning about the streets, women, workmen, waiters, all well fed and happy. The place, the merriest little place, and the most picturesque I have seen in America."
Clara had read this aloud, and Latane, laying down his paper, asked:
"Of whom are you reading, Clara?" " I am reading Thackeray's letter, written from Richmond, Virginia, on his first visit to America in 1852, and it ex presses opinions directly opposite to those in this book." "And that book," replied Latane, "was written only the year before. One is the opinion of a disinterested foreigner, speak ingfrom personal observation ; the other of a sincere but prejudiced, American, writing in consonance with the polit ical opinions of the majority of the people, not only of the United States, but of the civilized world." " Then you mean to say that the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' is right, and the great English writer wrong; is that what you mean?" " Abstractly--as an abstract proposition, yes; as a matter of justice and right, no." " Mr. Latane, you confuse me by your 'abstractly,' etc.; please explain yourself fully. I am greatly interested in that book."

480

ETOWAH.

;;

Latan6 smiled as he answered:

:

" I mean that slavery, as a permanent institution, is con

trary to the spirit of the age in which we live--contrary to

Christianity, I may say. The English enfranchised all the

slaves in their colonies in 1833, and in 1848 the French did

likewise. True, the owners were compensated, and the mas-

facres of St. Domingo followed emancipation there. Though

it is maintained throughout Asia and Africa, it does not ex

ist in Europe, and the people of the United States are of

European descent, and deny to the Mongolian the right of the

suffrage. But as to the African---per se, the Congo negro--

there is no doubt about it, slavery in America was a great

boon to him, and it was the only means by which he could

be civilized. Let me see what you are reading," said he, as

he concluded this oracular speech.

The page turned to at random in "Uncle Tom's Cabin"

was as follows: ''But suppose we should rise up to-morrow

and emancipate, who would educate these millions and teach

them how to use their freedom? And tell me now, is there

enough Christian philanthrophy among; your Northern

States' to bear with the process of their education and eleva

tion ? You send thousands of dollars to foreign missions,

but could you endure to have these heathens sent into your

towns and villages, and give your time and thoughts and

money to raise them to the Christian standard? That's

what I want to know. If we emancipate, are you willing

to educate?"

"How many families in your town would take in a negro

man and woman as equals, teach them, bear with them, and

seek to make them Christians ? How many merchants

would take Adolph if I wanted to make him a clerk, or me

chanic, or if I wanted him taught a trade ? If I wanted to put

ETOWAH.

481

.laneand Rosa to school, how many schools are there in the Northern States that would take them in? How manyfam. ilies that would board them ?" He had read it aloud, and as lie concluded he laughed quietly and said: "Indeed, this ;book is its own best critic. That question is as appropriate now as it was in 1851, when this book was written. What do you think of what I have just read, Clara?"
"I can only judge from what we have seen during our annual visits North, and the opinions expressed by our North'.. ern guests." i "In no Northern State or city," he replied, "is there a family of first-class social standing who would accept negroes, even such as those described in the above chapter, on terms of social equality. Even in the schools, the people generally demand that there shall be separate schools for black and white children in all the Northern States to-day. Wait a moment, Clara, and I will read you something on this sub ject which I wish I could read to the Northern people." Then, going to the library, he took two books therefrom, and from the smaller one read as follows : "The report of the School Committee of Boston, in 1845, on the petition to abolish the separate public schools for black children, stated, in support of its refusal to adopt the suggestion: "The distinction is one of races, not of color merely." The distinction is one which an all-wise Creator has seen fit to establish. No legislation, no social customs can efface this distinction." The committee also held that "the less the col ored and white people became intermingled the better it will be for both races." Then he opened the larger volume, and added: "Now, Clara, I will read something to show that the Bostonians are
31

482

ETOWAH.

::i

correct in this opinion. In Madagascar, inhabited by 5,000,:::;: 000 people, missionary efforts began in 1818. The king fav ored them. He died in 1828, and his queen, who succeeded:: him, drove the missionaries from the island and slaughtered:: 2,000 of her subjects who had enbraced the new religion. She: died in 1861, and her son succeeded to the throne. He invited: the missionaries back, and was put to death by his own nobles. His queen was crowned under a written constitu tion guaranteeing the fullest religious liberty. She died in 1868, and died as an idolater. The people worship twelve or fifteen principal idols, and have a vague belief in a Supreme God and of an evil principle. They are much addicted to divination. And yet," he continued, "the island was made known to Europeans by Marco Polo in the 13th century two hundred years before America was discovered. It was settled in the 16th century by the Portuguese, and in the 17th century by the French and English. Still Northern fanatics assert that the only difference between, the negro and the Caucasian is one of color. Since our slaves were emanci pated we have done our own thinking, and determined that these Southern States shall not relapse into the mongrel 'barbarism of Morocco, or Madagascar, Mexico, or Cuba, under the banner of miscegenation. Caucasian supremacy has been maintained, and now immigration will solve the prob lem in the future."
" Well," said Clara, "what do you consider the most sug gestive thing in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin?'"
" I think," he answered, "that the Ohio State Senator, who aided George Harris and Eliza to escape from their owners, would have been 'tarred and feathered,' besides being heav ily fined, tad he aided the white slaves, not to speak of their :

ETOWAH.

483

negro slaves, in the North to escape from their masters in the same way."
" White slaves! and in the North ? " she answered. " I never heard of such a thing before. Were there ever any white slaves in the Northern States?"
" Yes," he answered, "and they were just as harshly treated as our slaves were. The legal status of these 'term slaves', was represented by the word 'redemptioner.' There were two kinds of redemptioners-- 'indented servants,' who had bound themselves to their masters for a term of years previous to leaving Europe, and 'free-willers,' who allowed themselves to be sold on arrival to defray the cost of pas sage to America. Agreements were entered into whereby they bound themselves that they could be thus sold for a term of years of tedious labor and servitude. The usual price paid in Pennsylvania for three years service was 21,. Is. 6d. Children were sold for 8. to 10. In New Jersey no white servant, if sold or bound after seventeen years of age, could serve above four years. If under that age they were to be free on reaching their majority. The laws against aiding 'redemptionists' to escape were very severe. A fine of 5 was imposed for offering assistance in such cases, and the aider and abetter was obliged to make full satisfaction to master and mistress for all loss, damage or cost sustained by the absence of, or search for the runaway. Any one who concealed or entertained an absconding redernptioner, could be fined, at the discretion of the court, and be made to pay ten shillings to the owner for each day he had harbored the servant.
" Now, why did not the Northern people rise in virtuous indignation and set free these oppressed people without pay ing their owners anything and extol to the skies a Sena

484

ETOWAH.

tor who would violate the law of his State, which law he had aided to enact, by harboring and aiding to escape fu gitive slaves ? In all that book, there is nothing more art fully designed to show the irrepressible, nobility of the abo litionist's soul who would thus steal another man's property and show thus his own generosity. The act did not cost him a dollar, and he incurred no personal nor pecuniary risk, but he robbed the lawful owner of those slaves of two thou sand dollars by a ride at night at the cost of his personal discomfort only."
" Mr. Latane, would you not have done the same thing? I know that you would!" she answered.
" Very probably I would," he replied, "but I would have made the matter so prominently known that the owner would have been apprised, so that he might sue me for dam ages. A few cases like that might have caused Congress to appreciate the injustice of enforced emancipation without any proposition looking to compensation to the owners."
"I confess I don't understand the subject," said Clara, "but old 'Uncle' Dougherty told me yesterday that he had visited New York, Boston, and Washington frequently, while a slave, and yet he resisted all propositions to flee to Canada and thus become a freeman."
"Did he tell you why he refused?" asked her husband. " No; do you know why he did so! " "Old Dougherty," said Latane, "hasbeen a famous barber for forty years. He paid my father, and after his death paid my mother, fifty dollars a year for his own time. He accu mulated money rapidly;" owned the store in which was his barber-shop, and was worth from two to four thousand dol lars in d 860, and yet he declined to buy his freedom. Now,

ETOWAH

485

Clara, show that it is worth while for women to study math ematics by explaining this."
"I give it up;" she answered; "the conundrum is too hard for me."
"It is very simple; he would have had to support his family if he bought their freedom, whereas, as a slave, he had no one to support but himself."
But in spite of Clara's efforts to follow his arguments closely, the interest of the wife was supplanted by that of the mother, and she would occasionally interrupt him by addressing some caressing speech in an impossible language to the little toddler on the rug, who seemed determined to throw her diamond ring in the fire. Only moth'ers can ex plain why such treasures are entrusted to infants.
"Your mother owned two hundred slaves," she said ; (( my father owned five hundred. I am very sure that I never saw one shackled and wearing chains. Have you ever seen a negro slave in chains who was not convicted of a penal offense, Mr. Latane?"
" Upon my word I never did ; and of all our slaves, I never saw but one in chains, and that was poor Hallback; he has worked as a convict for seventeen years now."
"Poor Hallback! Mr. Latane, why don't you stand for the Legislature, and endeavor to repeal that odious convict lease system? I wish you would."
Latane arose from his luxurious chair, and going to his wife caressed her gently, and then said: "That has been already decided by the county, and without my knowledge until it was done. I have been nominated for the House of Representatives."
"Why didn't you tell me ? It is too bad!" Latane, with an amused look, answered: "Now let me put-

486

STOWAH.

a question to you. You have read the newspaper daily, I suppose, as a dutiful wife of an editor should. Assuming: that you have, why is it that you have not noticed the an- -.; nouncement ? It was published weeks ago, and the election will take place next week."
"I declare, it is abominable!" she answered. "You know ladies don't care anything about politics, and hence don't read about it. Is it true ?"
"It certainly is a fact, " he replied. She was very proud of her handsome and talented husband, and felt that no official prominence could be too great for him. He, on the contrary, was superior to the small ambi tion of becoming a big man in a small place, and, but for the subject suggested by her, and which had been one of constant and absorbing interest to him for many years, he would have declined the nomination. "Now, Clara, revenons a nos moutons, as the French say, what do you consider the most striking feature in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin ?' said Latane'. "I think the author has given too much refinement and genius to George Harris, and that such a negro inventor of a valuable labor-saving machine was never -doomed to abandon his rank as a mechanic and forced to follow a plow instead. The work of a mechanic, the world over, is more valuable than that of a plowman." "Yes," he answered, "and you may go farther; the 'George Harris' pictured there never existed. The negro race in these Southern. States has now been emancipated from slavery eighteen years, and yet, the patent office in Washington City will not show one important invention made during all that time by any one of these four millions and a half of emancipated slaves. Lo! the poor negro! No; Mrs.

:

ETOWAH.

487

:;;Stowe, is a very estimable, charitable and talented woman;, ;-and her book did more to bring about a speedy erasfe cipation by war than any other one agency, but she has i.sadly exaggerated." :: " I think so, too, " said Clara. "I am sure that I never ; heard of a ruffianly planter and slave-owner like the man iLegree which she has so startlingly portrayed."
"Well, my dear, we may console ourselves with the re; flection that Legree was born in Maine, and is not represented : as a typical Southern planter. But, as a matter of fact, I : never knew a planter who resembled him."
Just then the door-bell rang and Latane went to the door himself. It was a bright, crisp winter night and the snow covered the ground, but he had no difficulty in recognizing the warmly-clad, lovely woman who was accompanied by her husband, General Bruton Stewart.
"My little sister!" was all that LatanS said, as he drew her to him and kissed her affectionately, and then ushered them into the sitting room.
"Fair p^ay is a jewel, Latane1 ; you kissed my wife and I am going to kiss yours," said Stewart, suiting the action tothe word, and then the two visitors kindly greeted old Martha, now the nurse "of Miss Callie's baby, jist as I used to nuss Miss Cally," as she promptly reported to the new comers.
"Latane1 , the thing is settled beyond a doubt; your election is so certain that Ransom has come down and says he will never make another race for any political office. You see your quiet ways, and the fact that you have never offered to stand for any political office, led him to think that he would easily defeat you. But he has told me to-day that bis card

488

ETOWAH.

:;;.;

withdrawing from the race will be printed in 'the news*::

paper' to-morrow morning."

:::

"If it were not for the infamous convict system which dis-;;

graces <he statutes of our State and other Southern States*

said Latane, "I would not have the office. Ransom would::;

make a good Representative, and he should have my vote if::

he would run, even as my opponent."

"Latane, is it true, as you stated in your editorial this::

morning, that the loss by the war and the emancipation of::

the slaves in this State was more than three times as great::

as is the valxie of the property left?" asked Bruton Steward;

''Yes; it is unquestionably true. There has been, rela-;

tively, about seven years increase in population, owing to;

battles and war, and twenty-five years loss of wealth. But :

the Southern States have now fifty-five electoral votes;:

whereas, if the negro was not a voter--if he had not been

enfranchised--if he be eliminated from the apportionment in

the South, that electoral vote would be reduced to about

thirty."

:v

"You stated that you would discuss a remedy, simple, legal:

and comprehensive, that if adopted would tend to greatly:

reduce the losses referred to ? What did you mean ?"

:;

"I mean that about sixty-eight millions of dollars were:;

taken from the cotton planters, in a time of profound peace, ;

and at a time when they were confronted by social problems

of the gravest nature, and that the Supreme Court of the

United States has declared said tax to be unconstitutional."

"And you propose what ?"

"That Congress shall restore this money to the planters, or

to the cotton States, as an educational fund. This money::

does not belong to the North, nor to the hundreds of thos?.;;;

sands of foreign immigrants who annually set'le on the freer;

;i;:

ETOWAH.

481?

lands of the government, nor to the United States treasury, : : with its surplus of over a hundred millions of dollars; restore : it to the States from which it was taken, with six per cent, ^interest per annum, and it will pay the debts of those States, ; This State has no government lands, nor State lands, nor :; public lands to donate to the cause of public education."
" I quite agree with you about this, but I greatly fear that , Congress will not 'render unto Csesar the things that are Csar's " said General Stewart, preparing to depart.
"I doubt it also," said Latane"; "but we should demand it nevertheless. The South produces more iron now than the whole Union did in 1860; our negroes in this State own nearly six millions of dollars worth of property; and of the school population 71.6 per centum is white and 49 per centum colored; so we are not going to starve at any rate." Then, desiring to change the subject, Latane said: " Clara and I were talking about Hallback as you rang the door-bell,, and--" he stopped here to glance at his wife, but it was very evident that she had heard nothing that the two gentlemen had said. She and Mrs. Stewart were deeply engrossed in examining samples of woolens for a new dress which the lat ter was to order through her dress-maker in New York, and she had induced her husband to drive her over to Thronateeska this starlit night to consult about this all-important matter, in comparison with which matters of State policy are of infinitesimal interest to the feminine mind. Half pro voked, half amused, Latane decided to interrupt them, so heasked : "How is mother to night, sister ?"
" Just the happiest grandmother you ever saw, and my little Bruton ] oves her more than he does me, I believe. Bythe-way, he is much prettier than your baby there." Then

490

ETOWAH.

';;;;?

she caught up the cooing little one and caressed it as if t(J::

ask pardon for this speech.

: ;|

But Martha's eyes sought those of her mistress, and witfe-

a serious face she shook her head in dissent; and after the;;;

guests had left the house, she solemnly informed her mis*:;

tre-s that she had carried the baby--her baby--to Chestafee:::

that very day, and the nurse of the other baby had admittest;?

to her that even she thought that her baby was the prettiest,:;

The look and shake of the head of old Martha had ne&H

escaped General Stewart's eyes, who was much amused, and;;

said to his wife:

: ;;

" There is one 'doubting Thomas' in the land who does i

not hesitate to dissent from you, my dear, about the perfec

tions of our baby, and I quite agree with Martha."

" You always were an adept in saying pleasant things,

General," said Clara.

And thus tbe evening passed pleasantly away until Stew-

art and his wife went forth again as happy as if the redoubt*

abl", General had not once thought himself "head-over-heels

in lovo" with Mrs. Barnum, nee Julia Bearing.

iV;

CHAPTER XLII.
ARLINGTON.
s The two figures which ascended the hill at Arlington at tracted the attention of all who saw them. The young ikide was tall and vigorous and the elasticity of step and isymmetry of form suggested the most perfect health. The rich color of her cheeks and the massive luxuriance of her faiark hair completed the charm of her presence.' The look ff;ftf confiding trust and love as she turned her lustrous eyes ;io meet his glance showed the eager interest she felt in all :i:|e uttered, and suggested that this happy couple was a newsly-wedded pair to whom life presented its brightest aspects, slfrie young husband would pause occasionally to look at islie landscape--a lovely panorama--but a softer light, the ; light of love, would animate his countenance as he looked imth fond pride upon his beautiful bride. The elderly ladies who passed them nodded approvingly to them and to ieach other, happy to see again this sweetest of life's realities, iiihe mutual love of two devoted hearts. And the old grayihaired, blue-coated veteran who hobbled along upon a wooden leg stopped to look at these two young people thus radiant with happiness. Tall and symmetrical as she is, her head barely reaches his shoulder, and his well-knit, muscular frame and intellectual face seems strong and earn est enough to take good care of her. "What did you say. Mr. Barnum ?" she asked, as they stood upon the crest of the hill two hundred feet above the Potomac, whose broad bosom shone in the afternoon sunlight as if "threaded with silver and sanded with gold."

492

ETOWAH.

" I remarked that to me Arlington always excited

liar emotions. The glory of America is Virginia's glory, it&IH

mother of States and statesmen. The name of yon magma~;;i|

cent city, the capital of a great nation, is Virginian, aa|s|l

Arlington was the home of the knightliest of all Amerieafe|ll

military leaders, Gen. R. E. Lee. Washington, Lee, Lincoisllf

and Grant: these are the names around which those of all il

American heroes will cluster like lesser stars."

' ::::::||

"And three of these were Southern-born," said Julia. : ::|

" Yes ; Washington and Lee were 'to the manner

Lincoln was but nature's nobleman; but their hearts

cast in the same grand mould. Each of them felt the

impulse which Lincoln uttered, 'Charity for all and

toward none.' Each one was too great to be sectionalj;;'

though Southern-born they were Americans, and looked^

with pride upon the new government which offered this con-;;

tinent as a home for the oppressed of all nations." After.

clasping the little hand which found its way into his, seem- :

ing a tacit and thankful acknowledgment of this generous;'; :

tribute to Arlington and Lee, he continued: " General Lea;

possessed all the grand virtues of which heroes are -made,;'';

and none of the small enmities and vices which rob heroes;:

of their laurels after they are gone. Barring his OR&;

mistake, his lamentable conviction that he must figfel

against the Federal flag, I think he was the model American.''

"Don't spoil your noble eulogy, Mr. Barnum, by blaming

him for doing what'he thought was right. All of our best and

truest people thought with him. I know I always will be a

'rebel,' as you call us, but I think my own dear husband,

who was in the abominable Yankee army, is just as good an5:,

noble as General Lee was."

v:

"The design of this plantation residence," said Barnum,.

ETOWAH.

493

s taken from drawings of a temple at Pestun_, near Naples. On the south side over there are the gardens and igmservatory, and farther back were the slave ' quarters.' "
"In what way does Arlington most impress you ?" asked fulia.
"In its social aspects. Arlington seems to me to be the connecting link between the present and the aristocratic
me of the planters in the days of Governor Spottsword, of :the time of which Thackeray wrote and described so graphic ally in 'The Virginians,' and the days of Washington. There is not enough of the practical, money-making machinery of fsiiie later years just preceding the war about it to recall potemporary planters as we know them in the far South. "The historical paintings on the walls, presented by men [Oike the Earl of Buchan; the Mount Vernon plate, bearing ; the arms and crest of Washington; pictures of the Parke and Lee families, make this old mansion distinctively provin cial--a relic of tha ' Old Dominion.' "
"Is not that Analostan Island?" said Julia. ; "Yes, but what do you know about it?"
"I know that I had a happy time there when a child," :answercd his wife. " Hugh and I used to play together in the then beautiful grounds at Analostan. The Masons kept open house just as General Lee did here, and it was delight ful to visit Arlington or Analostan. Visits often extended into weeks, and the elite of Washington society gladly ac cepted the hospitalities of either house. You know the Con federate Commissioner to England, was born at Analostan, and he and my father, when they were in Congress togethe r were warm friends."
"Well, Julia, you are a delightful chapter of surprises. Here I have been teUing you what I thought would be news,

494

ETOWAH.

iiiiil

to you, and I find that imparting information to you is life;!!

carrying coals to Newcastle."

;;;;;!!!

They stood underneath the old flag in front of this <i1jtSi

mansion. It was a crisp, clear December day, such a day "Mm

the ancients fancied that the halcyon bird brooded on IK?;!!

nest and all nature rested in sympathy with the silence ji;i;

the bird. The wind gently caressed the waves, the mottlei;;!

sky was flecked with silver clouds, and the delightful sense;!!

of perfect peace filled their hearts with love. There was net ;|;

a frowning cloud in the heavens, the broad, placid bs*;;!;

som of the Potomac was before them, and the scene wasis

beautiful as the choicest landscapes of Salvator Rosa. Slowls;;!;

a sailing vessel moved on the blue waters toward Georgetown^;;!

and a steamer from Alexandria swiftly plowed the stream;;;;;

on its way to Washington. Below them the grassy laws;!;.;

descended abruptly, then by gentle undulations until thlj: ]\

carriage-way was reached. Clumps of cedars and firs dotted! ;;

the slopes, while on either side the primitive forest of nobfe!;';

oaks and chestnuts, unmolested by the vandalism of the utili?;;.-.;;

tarian, stood century-guard over a thousand acres. The de^;;:;;

pressions of the surface, the hills and dales, gave a mosi?;; : ;

pleasing variety to the scene. The brilliant rays of the earlyTM ;

winter sun shone upon the great dome of the most magnifi- ; ;

cent of national Capitols, and glinted the spires of the sixty-;

six churches of Washington.

;! :

"This view from Arlington Heights looking down upon;: :

Washington, I have heard, more nearly resembles that of;;;

Rome from the Monte Pincio than any other scene," said ::

Barnum. "But to me the capital of the nation, as seen from;;;;

the home of the Lees, seems emblematic of the great Sepi:d:>>;:;:;;:

lie itself. Scattered palaces rise from the midst of humBxf!;;

dwellings; architecture seems as crude and multiform as tuss;;;

ii

ETOWAH.

495

i^various dialects and nationalities that form the composite i: people of the United States; the asphaltum pavements of the iibroad avenues and the public buildings recall the splendor :of Paris; while the thirty thousand dusky citizens, recently ^enfranchised, and the vast waste of the alentours, recall St. ^Petersburg; splendid barbarism side-by-side with the most ::cultured civilization. The antiquities of the country col: lected at the capitol are but a century old, but that century has seen the flag of the Union extend from ocean to ocean, 5;: and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf, while fifty millions :::: of people acknowledge allegiance to the Union." ' ;; "I like your ardor," said Julia; and I confess that the day :; of 1'ttle States seems to be over, but do you really think that : such a composite people as compose the population of the :, United States can ever become a homogeneous people--a dis;; tinct nationality--like that of the Greeks, for example ?" ; " Ah, my dear, that question would open infinite discus' sion. Our great Massachusetts statesman lectures to-night, and his subject is, ' Are we a Nation ?' Meanwhile, the ex haustive writer, Fallmerayer, insists that the pure Hellenic blood cannot be found in Greece, except on the Grecian Isles, having been absorbed by the barbaric hordes that have over run that classic land. The modern Greeks wear the Alba nian costume, and much of their poetry is of Sclavic origin. But barbarism has swept away in the new Greeks the senti ment of art and plastic beauty which so distinguished the ancient Hellenes."
" But the Greeks have neither become Albanians by the influence of Arnautic colonization; nor Osmanlis by the influence of the conquering Turks; nor Latins by the influ:: tence of the Venetians; nor Romans by those of the French and the Catalans. Neither have they become Sclaves. Infi-

496

ETOWAH. .

::

nitely superior to the barbarous hordes which overcame::

them, they have always preserved an intellectual predomi-:

nance. Their language is to-day the classic tongue; in the ;

middle age it conquered the Sclavic language, as, later, it

triumphed over that of the Turks and Albanians," answered,

his wife, who thus showed to Barnum the priceless value |

that the society of her intellectual father had been to her.

Pressing her hand as a tacit tribute to her genius and talent,

he said: " Yes, I must concede that that is the most remak-

able vitality which history records. The unity of the lan

guage will preserve the unity of the nation, and the same

thing will prove true in this country.

" One can find in yonder city the pure Celtic type, the Iberi

an type, the Teuton or Scandinavian type, and even the Hel

lenic type, exempt from all admixture. But the domination

of the English type is shown by the national language,

which will gradually absorb all other languages in our great.

Republic, just as a national spirit is destined to bring infoV:

one harmonious nationality the individual diversities that:: :

characterize this continent at present."

:

Thus spoke the young Federal Colonel, giving free rein to:;

his patriotic fervor. It was the first time since their mar- :;.

riage that he had spoken to her of his attachment to the^::

Union and his pride in the success of that Union for whichj;

te had fought.

:

She was silent and pensive.

;;

" Of what are you thinking, Julia ? "

" I was thinking of Lamar Fontaine's touching war poem: :;

" All quiet on the Potomac to night," she replied. " Your ';;

triumphant feelings I am glad you feel, but they bring back:::::

the memories of our "sorrows's crown of sorrow."

;;.y|;

" Do you remember the words," he asked.

l;;ti

ETOWAH.

497

" Yes, I have sung them frequently." " Repeat them, please; I have no desire to diminish your pride in the achievements of Southern soldiers. I owe to the South a possession which I would not exchange for the diadem of the proudest monarch : the love of my precious, peerless wife." As he said this he kissed her gently, and led her to a chair on the great porch of the mansion which over looked the scene. " Now, Julia, sing me that Confederate song." No one was near them and she sang in a low tone, but with exquisite tendernes, the following lines:

1.
" All quiet along the Potomac, they say, Except, now and then, a stray picket
Is shot on his beat, as he walks to and fro, . By a rifleman hid in a thicket.
'Tis nothing, a private or two now and then "Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost, only one of the men Moaning out all alone the death rattle.

2.
All quiet along the Potomac to-night Where the soldiers iie peacefully dreaming,
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, Or the light of their watch-fires are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh as the gentle night wind Through the forest leaves softly is creeping;
While stars up above, with their glittering eyes, Keep guard, for the army is sleeping.

498

ETOWAH.

3.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two in their low trundle-bed Far away in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack, and his face dark and grim. Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep, For their mother--may heaven defend her!

The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, That night when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips--when low murmuring vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken,
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes away tears that are welling
And gathers his gun closer to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
5.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree, The footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet on-ward he goes thro' the broad belt of light Toward the shades of the forest so dreary.
Hark ! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves? Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle--ha! Mary, good bye! And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing.

All quiet along the Potomac to-night, No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, The picket's off duty forever!

:;'.

ETOWAH.

499

: Her husband had been sitting on the steps at her feet as she sang this song, and she seemed to impart to it all the : : pathos of her own sympathetic natu ;! "That was the prettiest poem that % as written on either : side during the war," he said, "and I am glad I heard it ; first from your lips." : After a pause, in which he caressed her hand, while his : eyes assumed the far-away look which belongs only to ;. thoughtful, earnest natures, she asked: "What are you
thinking about ?" " I never read or hear of anything of the nature of the
poem you have just repeated without thinking of a friend of mine," said her husband. ; " Who was he ?" asked Julia.
" He was considered the most promising young officer in ; the army of the Shenandoah, and he was killed by ' bush whackers.' His death was probably due to the reprisals caused by the Federal general's orders, requiring officers and soldiers to confiscate property or burn it in consequence of " robberies committed on Union citizens by bands of guerillas.. His successor followed his example on a larger scale, and among the victims was John Rogers. His tomb is in the cemetery at Georgetown, and it is unlike any I ever saw. The figure of the young officer, cast in bronze, is represented as lying upon his back just as he fell when making the reconnoisance. His pistol is on the ground near him, just as it was dropped, and around his person, sword, belt, and strap holding field glass, are as he wore them on that fatal occasion. The sword is still in its scabbard, for he did not have time to draw it. His uniform is closely buttoned up to his chin, an army cloak covering the shoulders. The fea-

500

ETOWAH.

tures are perfect in resemblance to his, the same patrician :

mouth and the same intellectual face. The innocence of !

youth and the spirit of a laudable ambition are stamped up-':;

on the face which would seem in slumber, but for the ner- :

vously clenched hand. His age was 22. Upon his tomb is^i

this inscription, more touchingly eloquent to my mind than ;;

any I ever read :

'Lieutenant John Kogers, U. S. Engineers, Chief Engi- ;

neer Army of the Shenandoah. Born 9th February, 1842.

Died 3d October, 1864.' His father is one of the leading gen- :

erals of the United States Army with headquarters at Wash-;:

ington."

.;

" And his uncle," responded his wife, "is a citizen of our :

State, and the noblest-hearted of the distinguished family;

a cultured scholar, a gentleman, and possessing a heart as ';

tender as a woman's--a man whose conscience is as clear as

a cloudless sky, without reproach, and true to his adopted

State. His grandfather was the first president of the State

University. Oh! what a pity, what a mistake that terrible; : ;

war was which divided families thus!" and then she con-'.;;

tinued after a short pause : "I was at the home of Lieut, ;

Kogers' grandparents in Philadelphia, when I was a little,

child, and I shall never forget the welcome which the hand- :

some young cadet received when he made a short visit from J

the Military Academy at West Point. They were all proud :

of him and, though I never saw him again, and was too

small to attract his attention, I shall never forget the im

pression which the handsome youth made on me."

" What a singular coincidence," he answered. " I had no

idea that you knew John Rogers. It is time we were

returning; you know we are to go to Vinnie Raum's re

ception to-night. She is a distant relative of mine. We

ETOWAH.

501

will meet Valentine, the Virginia sculptor, there, and many more distinguished people, and I wish you to look your best," said Barnum.
" What other distinguished people? I don't mean South erners, but foreigners; will any of them be at the reception ?"
" No, our little artist friend's home is too small for recep tions on a grand scale, but there will be one guest there whom it is a treat for any cultured person to meet. Most of his life has been passed abroad for the past twenty years, and he is a thorough cosmopolite."
"Who is he ? Why do you pause just at the interesting mo ment ?"
Barnum laughed and answered: "It is the venerable American Sculptor, Story, more famous in Italy, as the leading American than is either Lee or Grant."
The evening passed delightfully to Julia, and, towards its close, the guests were favored with a novel and unexpected treat.
Several distinguished gentlemen, members of Congress and lawyers of prominence were also present. Conversation had become general until some one requested Miss Raum to play, and, as many were preparing to leave, the hostess, leaving Mrs. Barnum's side, improvised a song suited to the occa sion. No one present, except Colonel Barnum, knew that she possessed the faculty of improvisation; and it was with much interest that the guest listened to the following as she seated herself at the harp :

IMPKOVISATION.
Harp of the North with seraphs come To grace and charm the artist's home; Let sculpture crown my Muse's face "Withbeauty's charm, with nameless grace!

502

ETOWAK.

Let seraphs come; let seraphs go; Let shadowy forms of purest snow Bring back the heroes of the past, And mate them with the loves that last. Oh Muse of Art! speed time's quick flight; Thrice happy love, thrice happy night!

Come, come to me, oh, Muse of mine, For purest charms of art are thine; Thou makest life a dream, replete With all the joys of Arcadie, Where sounds aeolian strains, as swt et As ever sang the waves at sea. Let Daphne rise with healthful glow And graceful limbs, pure white as snow Like some fair naiad of the sea: Let her aid now my minstrelsy. Ye, gods and goddesses, inspire The hand which touches now the lyre.

For one here stands, whose hair is white; Whose heart is pure, though time's swift flight Hath left in age a perfect man; Hath left him young whose life's a span ; With eyes undimmed that fain would see What charm thou hast, sweet minstrelsy! Sweet Flora, cast thy garlands o'er The honored brave we'll see no more; And, seraphs, come to charm his sight; Thrice happy love, thrice happy night 1

With heart as light as airy hope, And lips that ope as lilies ope, Smile gently, fair Penelope; For fairer than a rose is she! And I do sing of a lover, tall
And stalwart, whose eyes look love--

ETOWAH.

505

Love such as angels guard above; And well it may, with soft love-light Gaze fondly on her face to-night! Gently my harp ! like whispers be The caresses of minstrelsy!

Thrice happy love, thrice happy night! May life to them, be love's delight. For well, I ween, when bosom swells And eyes, as bright as the gazelles, Are turned to his, no mortal heart Can fail to do a lover's part! May angels guard her lovely life And smile on this husband and wife! May life to them be love's delight; Thrice happy love, thrice happy night!

CHAPTER XLIII.
OUR BROTHEB IN BLACK.
Representative Latan had thoroughly studied the convict laws of the Southern States so that when, he arose in his place to speak upon this question, he quickly secured the attention of the Plouse. "Mr. Speaker," said he, "All the States in this Union are interested in this bill, and I protest in the name of the people, against the effort to deny tho privilege of being heard, and to smother this bill that the robbery and vile oppression may go on. Human greed seems insatiable, and the convict lessees aptly illustrate that 'the love of money is the root of all evil.' I am reliably in formed that a negro who was convicted of the theft of two dollars, has been sentenced to work in the chain-gangs in coal mines owned by a convict lessee for twenty years! This poor negro is an 'able-bodied, long term convict:' and, under this iniquitous and barbarous law, three hundred 'able-bodied, long-term convicts' are assigned to the chain-gangs, control led by this lessee. It is an accepted axiom that every effect has its cause. In whose interests have the modifications in this law been made ? By what methods was this legislation secured ?
Ah! Mr. Speaker, to every suggestion that the State should abolish the convict leasing system, the objection is made that the prison population is so large that the State cannot take control of the penitentiary without great expense which the tax-payers will oppose.
Before the late war there had never been a time when

ETOWAH.

505

the number of convicts in the State penitentiary exceeded three hundred. Now it is sixteen hundred!
To the lessees this great question is one solely of dollars. By their own admission, there are eight times as many convicts now as there were before the abolition of slavery. The question arises, why is this prison population so enor mously out of proportion to the general population of the State ?
In whose interest has the grade of grand larceny been re duced to ten dollars? Before the emancipation of the negroes, it was twenty-five dollars. In every northern State, it is at least twenty-five dollars, and in many it is placed at much higher figures.
Why is it a greater crime now to steal than it was in the year of 1860 ? ISojust reason can be given why felony should be placed at such a low grade.
Out of sixteen hundred convicts, leased for three and threefourths cents per day, three hundred of whom are leased at this rate for twenty years, nearly three-eighths of the whole num ber were convicts of larceny. If larceny as a penitentiary offence, was restored to its former grade, this number would probably be reduced one-half. But, so long as this barbarous system of leasing convicts to individuals, that they may make fortunes like magic to the detriment of free labor, prevails, so long will the grade be left where they can fill their chain-gangs with convicts, ninety per cent, of whom are negroes.
This is proved by the similar condition of things in all the Southern States where this system prevails. Take, for exam ple, that of another State, where the severity of the term of imprisonment is like that in this State. It is authoritatively stated that the average term of confinement there, excluding.

506

ETOWAH.

; :|

the life sentences, is four years and three hundred and tweu-S;

ty-eight days. There is not a single first-class prison, in thsTM

North, in the densest populations, with such an average im- ;;

prisonment. We are sending people to the penitentiary for;;

petty effences, and making the sentences unnecessarily long:;;

and severe.

:;

The last published prison register shows that there were : ;:

thirty-three boys in prison, none of whom was committed

when he was over the age of eighteen years, whose average

term of imprisonment is five years and 328 days. It is a

startling and extraordinary fact that this class of juvenile :

offenders, sent to prison for probably their first offence, cer- ;

tainly not hardened criminals and not beyond all moral in

fluences, are actually being punished more severely and with

longer terms of imprisonment than the average adult felon.

There are twelve boys sentenced when under fifteen years of

age, with an average term of five years and three months.

Two of sixteen years, are confined for life. By the latest

published report there were eight hundred and twelve con

victs in that penitentiary. Prior to the war, there were only

oae hundred arid sixty-nine in that penitentiary. And this

is the record wherever the leasing of convicts to individuals

is the law. And yet a lessee of convicts cooly says to us:

"A change of the system is not seriously proposed, indeed

it is not needed, as we cannot adopt a better one for either

the State or the convicts. Then what produces all .this

clamor ? What is needed ? Devise a better system if you

can."

There, sir, men are beaten atrociously by irresponsible

'whipping bosses' who themselves escape all punishment.

Their flesh is cut into welts, their feet are eaten and ruined

t>y frost; themselves reduced to the supineness of indifference

ETOWAH.

507

by the cruelty of task-masters in their insatiable greed for money! What is a leased convict ? Is he a brute ? No, he is a human being blessed with all the feelings and im pulses which ennoble human nature, until he yields to crime. As an infant he received the tender caresses and the fathomless love of his mother, and as a man he is followed in his captivity by the anxious prayers of that mother.
What is a penitentiary ? Is it a dungeon of perpetual tor ture that all spirit and all hope may be crushed out of the convicted felon ? No, its design is more God-like; it is de signed to punish severely as a prelude to that reformation which opens the way to mercy for the criminal and salva tion for the redeemed soul.
If it be right for a great Commonwealth to thus sell its criminals, to the detriment of the honest laborers of the State, to the highest bidder, why is it that no civilized na tions have adopted this system? It was designed to make the lessees fabulously rich, and human greed, I repeat, seems insatiable.
What matters it to this absentee proprietor--who sees his chained slaves perhaps five times a year--provided his profits are paid regularly to him ?
Sir, humanity, civilization itself, demands the abolition of this inhumane system
It is the malediction of an Iliad of woes; it is the over flowing of a just indignation; it is almost as a final appeal to the Infinite."
This speech made a deep impression upon his hearers, and an interview with the Governor followed, during which Hallback's pardon was conditionally promised.
As one of the investigating committee of the House of Representatives, Latane, a few days later, visited the mines

508

ETOWAH.

where Hallback was confined. For eighteen years our poor

friend, in whose black breast breathed a rarely brave and

gallant spirit, has worn t'.ie shackles of the convict.

Latane was shocked at his changed appearance. The

welts and scars on Hallback's poor overworked body were

made by the cruel lash of the "whipping boss."

,;

How changed is he, the once bright and earnest young

man, filled with the laudable ambition, to raise his depen

dent race to a higher plane of civilization.

Can yond r round-shouldered stooping convict be Hall-

back ? Poor fellow! Drawn irresistibly to his vicinity,

without intending it, Latane came In the line of his vision.

How instantaneous, though momentary, the change! Like

a lightning flash, the gloomy, sullen look of despair gave

way to the old light as his eyes flashed the intelligence that

he had but two more yvars to serve; and then--Oh! there

is now no kind, wise, humane old Barney to place his hand

upon his shoulder and bid him "wait! " " Wait! For eigh

teen years, Marse Henry." And then the great tears rolled

down his deeply lined face, and agony was depicted there

such as one never wishes to see again! Then, dashing

them aside, and wringing Latane's hand affectionately, the

dogged, sullen, despairing look resumed control of his feat

ures, and the pick went up and down, up and down, with

regular, horrible monotony, as up and down it had gone on

thus for eighteen years.

Powerless to aid him, and fearful that sympathy for him,

if expressed,- might subject him to further cruelties, if the

application for his pardon should again be denied, Latane

left him, but continued his investigations.

The keeper of the Penitentiary had arrived while LatanS

was inspecting the sleeping quarters of the convicts, and

ETOWAH.

'''?$$

Latane divined what the invitation to call at his office "0s:

Important business'' meant.

;

The keeper of the penitentiary handed him a letter as he

entered his office, and that letter contained a pardon for

Hallback. He read it quickly, and immediately asked the

keepfr to accompany him to where Hallback was at work.

" He is an old servant of mine, and my play-mate when

a child," said Latane.

They passed along the gloomy, sooty caverns, passed

the dark and sullen laborers, who, with picks in hand,

loosed the coal from the seams where it had rested for ages,

and shoveled it along the tunnel. There was no sunlight in

that dark cavern, and the lines in Hallback's face seemed to

deepen as the lamp cast its fitful glare around his bent fig

ure. He did not notice their approach, and his pick seemed

to move up and down mechanically. Now they stopped be

fore him. He raised his head with a despairing look; did

not seem to recognize Latane, but glared around to see the

"whipping boss." There was no look of fear in his eyes; it

was rather a look of stolid indifference to his fate--of an

utter hopelessness as to any relief.

" Hallback," said the keeper, "your former master, Captain

Latan6, is here."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment and turned away

with a despairing look, then raised his pick again and re

sumed his monotonous work.

Latane1 could wait no longer, but placing his hand on his

shoulder, he caught his descending arm, arrested it, and the

pick fell to the ground.

A low moan of agony escaped the convict's lips, as if to

say, " Why prolong this misery, and bring back to me

thoughts of the happy past by your presence ? "

510

ETOWAH.

Latane^s eyes filled with tears too, and his voice was choked as lie said, " I have come to set you free, Hall; the Governor has pardoned you, and you are to go back home with me!"
He seemed dazed, dumbfounded at first; then, as the truth dawned upon him, the poor fellow cried like a child; and as a child would he let him lead him by the hand from darkness to daylight.
The earth was no longer without form and void, nor dark ness enveloped the world, but the Spirit of God moved the air and their was light! Light that was divided from the darkness. This, to him, was day; yesterday was one long night of eighteen years! Not for him, then, were the lights in the firmament of the heaven, which divided the day from the night, that were for signs and for seasons, and for days and for years--these stars in the firmament to give light upon the earth. To that crushed spirit, innocent of any wrong to any human being, it had been a torture-chamber of unutterable darkness.
They stood upon the mountain peak. Daylight! Oh, what a glorious vision it is to that weary soul! How beautiful, with its prismatic hues crimsoning the eastern skies, ascend ing until it irradiates the glorious firmament, and causes Hallback to forget, for the moment, the bitter past, and to ex claim : "Heaven ! it is there!"
Regenerated by the touchstone of human sympathy, each dew-drop now seemed to him a diamond, and each spear of grass, as it glistened in the sunlight, diamond-pointed with dew, seemed to sxiddenly awaken his dulled sensibilities as they grouped and clustered around the memories of the long ago. For the first time in long years he noted the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit. Not for him

;

ETOWAH.

511

had been these herbs and these fruits, these lights and shades: and yonder glorious skies. Not for the poor, disgraced, de based convict--a victim to a treachery as mean as the mean est trait of mankind--not for such as he were the glorious lights of the evening and the morning, of the day and the night. Not for him the vision of moving waters full of ani mated life and moving things, or the beauteous winged crea tures that fly from flower to flower, and from tree to tree, sipping the nectar of nature.
To his strained eyes, now getting accustomed to the unaccustomed light, the air seemed filled with happy birds and winged creatures soaring to the open firmament of heaven. And he stood forth, like the votary of the Koran, in natural worship, and, uplifting his hands appealingly to the rising sun, seemed a veritable sun-worshipper.
They stood upon the mountain top, and before them were broad, verdant valleys, and the wide, winding beautiful river which courses through those lovely Tenessee mountains. Like a lovely ribbon did it seem, girdling fair Nature; and to Hallback it seemed the realization of his early dreams of heaven, as he said to himself: " If uncle Barney was only here to view this with me." Then a flash of the old dangerlight glowed in his eyes like a living burning coal, and was as suddenly succeeded by that cold, dogged look of sullen despair, as he turned away his head and, burying it in his hands, wept convulsively. In a moment that flood of memo ries engulfed his mind, and shut out this beautiful scene from his gaze as the gloomy incidents of eighteen years of convict life in the bowels of the earth rushed over his crowded brain. Recovering his self-possession at last, with, a husky voice, he raised himself from the great stone upon which he had thrown himself, there at the edge of the precipice, over-

512

ETOWAH.

looking seven States of the American Union, and asked:-- " Marse Henry, where is Hefflin ?"
"In Canada, Hall, a refugee from outraged justice." "And Avhere is Canada?" "Do you see those distant mountains, hundreds of miles away?" said Latane, pointing to the Blue Ridge in Virginia. "Yes, sir." "Well, Hall, those mountains are in Virginia where you and I served as soldiers; the war is over now, peace fills the land with smiling harvest and all its gentle influences, and there is no more enmity between the North and South. 'Let the dead past bury its dead,' Hall; it is best. Let us emulate the soldiers of both armies who are devoting their lives to rebuilding the waste-places. There are Veteran As sociations in the land and the Gray and the Blue meet to gether in friendly intercourse and do all that they can to moderate and stifle the passions which selfish politicians seek to keep alive." "It is there, Canada is--over those mountains and hun dred of miles away--and Hefflin is in Canada," mused Hallback. Then he raised himself, shook himself, tried his limbs as if to see if they were equal to the task of so long a journey. "Truly," thought Latane, "vendetta was never so pictured upon the face of mortal man." Then he said to Hallback: "Sit down, Hall, the carriage which is to bear us away will be here shortly and you must compose yourself, my friend." Hallback grasped his hand convulsively, saying, "Marse Henry ' Marse Henry !" then took from his pocket a worn .and faded Bible, and waving his hand toward the limitless landscape, handed it to Latane and pointed to the 26th verse of the first chapter of Genesis. Latane read aloud as follows:

ETOWAH.

513

"And God said, Let us make man in our image; afterxpr likeness ; and let him. have dominion over the fish of the sea, . and over the fowls of the air, and over the cattle, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruit ful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowls of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. And God said, Behold I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of the earth, and every tree in the forest which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.
Thus the heavens and the earth were finished and all of tbe host of them."
Hallback laid his hand on Latan^'s shoulder and said pointing backward to the entrance to the coal mines, which seemed to him like Dante's Inferno : "He who enters here, leaves hope behind," and said: "Hefflin, and the judge, and the others robbed me of all that God gave to man, and did it "without just cause !" and then, clenching his hands fiercely, he pointed to the Virginia mountains again and said: "He is in Canada; and Canada is over there. I will find him."
"No, Hall, they did not rob you of all that God gave you; let me read another verse : "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul."
And again the shadows passed from his fine face, still striking in spite of the misery which had set its seal there, and a voice seemed to reach him from the lips of old
33

514

ETOWAH.

Barney, " Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord; I will repay."

And there we will bid them adieu, there under the limit

less canopy of heaven, where Hallback stands in the free air,

once more a free man.

For the relative conditions of these two is typical of the

two races to-day in the Southern States. The interests of the

two races are interdependent, their sympathies are mutual,

and may they be as lasting as time itself.

When adversity strikes down the lormer slave, it is to his

old master that he first turns for aid, and rarely is his appeal

for sympathy unheeded.

And beautiful is that evidence of attachment, when the

emancipated slave offers part of his hard-earned money to

alleviate the poor and almost friendless orphans of his former

wealthy master now in his grave.

No longer does the venerable Colonel Leslie, with courtly

manners and gracious hospitality, "welcome the coming,

speed the parting guest." Full of honors as of years, beloved

and respected by all, he has gone down the vale of life and

reached the shadowy land of spirits where just men, like

himself, are made perfect.

>

Wellington Napoleon Potts has realized his prophetic

hopes: he is rich, and can buy all the " friends " he wants.

He wants no friends whom he can not "use;" and he

despises the very correct assertion that to "use" a friend for

selfish purposes is to be the reverse of a gentleman.

He lives in the costliest mansion in the growing city, and

proves to men who formerly despised him that no slavery is

worse than that of an honest debtor to an infamous but wise

creditor.

" Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone."

ETOWAH.

515

One of the E towall prisoners is a member of the Congress

of the United States.

:

Time, the great magician, hath wrought this miracle. Our

nimble acquaintance, Jonathan Ray, alias John Hefflin,

had learned too much about " the ways that are dark and the

tricks that are vain" indulged in by Wellington Napoleon

Potts to permit that worthy to dispense with his services.

But now Cashier Hefflin, whose early propensities were too

strong to be resisted, is luxuriating in Canada, that Mecca of

defaulting bank officials.

Alcohol, thou demon of this nineteenth century! thou

hast slain more than the war itself. Oh! that the fell thirst

which seizes a noble, high-minded man, distinguished as

the first scholar in his class, or the most gallant soldier in.

his corps, and drags him down to alcoholic insanity, could

be annihilated! Or, that God could blot out forever and

cast into eternal nothingness that demon, thirst for alcohol!

It would snatch from the yawning grave the noblest spirits,

who would cast aside the bitter cup if they could. Elame

them not, for, like the Laocoon, they are powerless in the

coils of the serpent. It is a disease resistless, for the time

being, as the yellow fever which slays its victims beneath

brazen skies, unless the poor victim is led by the hand of

affection to submit to a wise restraint. Blame not the

inebriate; but watch over him tenderly for, by degrees, he

may be redeemed. Utter not one word of reproach; breathe

no word of shame; suggest no thought of disgrace ; but lead

him, as you would a sick child, and urge him to remember

that his body is God's temple, and all that honor or happi

ness can offer may yet be his, if he will but overcome that

fatal thirst. Time will heal all things, all injuries, all wrongs,

and cover them with the mantle of charity. Emile La-

516

ETOWAH.

;::::

Grange could not resist temptation, ana he was kept con-::

cealed from his friends by his cruel captors until deliriiiEtj;;.

ended in death.

ii:i

r Abuse has glanced from the golden armor of the rich lessee::

;. of convicts, and the fickle multitude hail him as the wisest;

of men. Well may he exclaim, " L'Etat, cest moif" Two:!

hundred dollars profit per day for the lease of three hundred;

'" long-term able-bodied convicts "is six thousand dollars a

month; it is seventy-two thousand dollars a year; it is one :

million and four hundred and forty-four thousands of dollars ;

In twenty years; and this is accomplished without the ;

investment of one dollar! So seems it to the liberated Hall- ;

back.

;;

As the years go by and, one by one, our friends and

acquaintances " cross over the river," personal antagon

isms cease, and charity would lower the veil here. "Judge

not, that ye be not judged," and let us hope that this penal

institution, which subjects some good men to undeserved

censure, may speedily give way to a more enlightened

system.

:: ;:

The matchless cavalry general, so daring and indomitable;;

that he had " cut his way out," rather than surrender at Ap-

pomattox, has surrendered unconditionally at last. He has

left his ancestral home, " Etowah Heights," and lives at ;

" Chestatee," the husband of the young lady whom he ha4: : :

often dandled upon his knee when she was a little child a^;;

innocent as the butterflies which flitted about her sunny;:

head.



:::

" The mystic chords of memory stretching from every .;:

ba ttle-field and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth

stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of

ETOWAH.

517

the Union, when again touched, as surely as they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
The kinship of humanity ennobles humanity; and it is as broad as the seas and as deep as the earth. May it shield the weaker from the oppressions of the stronger, and aid poor human nature to solve a difficult problem. And may the youth of this fair sunny Southland revere the memories of the great past, and adhere to the simple faith, the loyalty to truth and virtue, and the veneration for integrity of act and purpose which so distinguished their fathers.

APPENDIX.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. For the benefit of the reader, my acknowldgments are made in this appendix, attention being called to matter that is not original with the author by means of asterisks or figures.
CHAPTER I.
* Allusion is here made to the speech of Alexander H. Stephens be fore the Secession Convention at the capital or the State of Georgia.
Among the numerous criticisms of the press of the " advance sheets" of this book sent to many of them, the following should challenge atten tion :
From the Chillicothe, (Ohio) Gazette, November 17, 1887. " The author says the Confederate soldiers possessed ' a patriotism and heroism unsurpassed in history,' and that they deserve 'a patriot's gratitude,' etc. It is true that they were brave, and were admired for pertinacity to their cause, but no civilized nations call them patriotic."
It is to remove such erroneous impressions that the author of this book introduced in Chapter I, the letter of a typical Southerner whose pecuniary and professional interests were altogether with the govern ment of the United States, and whose interests were not connected with, or affected by slavery.
The author was in London when the following allusions were made by Sir John Pakington at a banquet tendered to Commodore Maury at Willis' rooms in London, June 6, 1866. This banquet was given for the purpose of presenting Commodore Maury with a testimonial in acknowl edgment of the valuable and distinguished services he had rendered to the maritime nations of the world. Said Sir John Pakington :
" It was well said by the great philosopher Humboldt, that you had

520

ETOWAH.

;

discovered a new department of human knowledge, and it-was Hun>boldt who gave to it the name of the physical geography of the_sea.
These services have received in all parts of the world a frank and cordial acknowledgment. Russia, Prussia, Austria, France, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Holland, Portugal, Bremen and Sardinia ; and from every one of these nations have you received one of their orders.of knighthood, and in some instances medals struck especially in your honor. The State of New York, in which you so long exercised your talent, contributed a service of plate and five thousand dollars. But, sir, this is not all. I hold in my hand a letter from which I will read an ex tract, but before doing so, allow me to observe that it was just at this moment, when you were in the zenith of your time, and in the midst of your great pursuits, that that unhappy civil war broke out by which the finest portions of the South of the United States were desolated. It would be unbecoming in me, on this occasion, to express anything like a political feeling. But this, I think, I may be allowed to say, that we Englishmen, who watched that great struggle--whilst some may have wished well to one party, and others to another--there was one point on which every one had no shadow of a difference of opinion, and that was, that on both sides, by the North and by the South alike, that strug gle was conducted with a vigor, with an energy, with a bravery, and with a skill, which has made the Anglo-Saxons proud of their de scendants .
You were by birth, a Southerner, your leanings and your sympathies were entirely for the South, and the part you took was again worthy of your character and your career. You took the part of a patriotic and an honest man. You abandoned the pursuits in which you were taking such deep interest; you threw up office, the honorable public office which you held, and went to that country to which you felt you were attached and you entered heartily and honorably into the cause you felt it your duty to espouse. It was at this moment that a letter I hold in my hand was written, which said that, 'sincerely deploring the inactivity into which the state of affairs has plunged you, I feel called on to invite you to take up your residence in this country, where you may, in peace, continue your useful occupation. Your position will be independent. You will be bound by no conditions. You will always be able to steer back across the ocean; and in the event of your not pleasing to return,

ESOWAH.

;:0|i_

jn regard to your material welfare everything shall be done.' That;is addressed to you by the Grand Duke Constantine, of Russia. .It wasthen that the Russian Prince, in the name of a great empire, assured; you of his respect for your public services and offered you a home.
A similar invitation was made on behalf of France by Prince Napo leon, and I can not but feel proud of the manner in which those great persons came forward to render to you the homage which is your diie. Such then, are the circumstances that have led to this interesting ces:emonial, and it is now my duty to address you in the name of England, in the name of Europe, and I shall not exaggerate if I say in the name of the civilized world.
I request you then, to do us the honor of accepting this testimonial of considerably more than three thousand guineas, which I now have thegreat honor and the great pleasure of asking you to receive, as a proof of our recognition of your services, and of the esteem and admirationyou have gained."
Like Robert E. Lee, he died as he had lived, with a stainless name, and honored as a patriot wherever the English language is spoken.

For the statement relating to pensions in the '' Dedication," the reader Js referred to Pension Commissioner Black, who in his annual report, states that, "in the aggregate 1,091,200,000 pension claims have been filed since 1861. An appropriation of $79,045,230 is asked for the next fiscal year. That for the current year was $78,701,250.
The following statement is my authority for the statement in the Dedication :
"The Democrat," of Champaign, Ohio, of July 14, 1887, states r "Twelve millions of dollars will be paid out for pensions during the cur rent month, and as much more in August."
In the descriptions of the carnival in New Orleans, the execution of Mrs, Suratt, Paine and Atzeroth, and the conversation with President John son, the author is partially indebted to newspaper reports, from which notes were taken when they were printed. The object being to present life as it -was and is; this was deemed preferable to entire originality. When life is a drama, the truth is romance, and undoubted facts blended with the coloring of romance, are better than pure imaginative writing.

522

E TOWAH.

CHAPTER VIII.
*See '< The Red Cross," by H. H. S. Thompson.

CHAPTER IX. Erratum. For "New Red Sandstone, read: "Old Red Sandstone."

CHAPTER IX.
*Senator Morrill, of Vermont, stated in the United States Senate Chamber, December 13, 1887, that seventy per cent, of the population of Boston was composed of persons of foreign birth and foreign parent age, eighty per cent, of New York, and ninety-one per cent, of the pop ulation of Chicago, and these figures might be aggravated by future immigration. By the census of 1880, the population of foreign birth and parentage was about 15,000,000; and immigration since then 4,345,ooo; so that, without including children born of foreign parents since 1880, there was now in this country, a foreign population of 19,340,000 or nearly one-third of the entire population.
For allusions to M. Mariette, *see Bouillet's Dictionaire des Sciences et des Arts.
See, also, Appleton's Encyclopedia. Also, Harper's Magazine for September, 1887.

CHAPTER XIII.
*An Englishman, who was sojourning in Richmond, Va., in 1859, contributed to McMillan's Magazine the facts conncernlng the auction sale of slaves contained in this chapter. In order to have it.entirely impartial, the author has substituted this account of a slave sale verbatim': for the chapter written on the same subject by himself.

CHAPTER XXXI.

.

*The incidents related in this chapter concerning the imprisonment and torture in the " Sweat-Box," at Fort Pulaski, actually occurred as re lated. The affidavits of the negro prisoners who thus suffered can be produced. They were sworn to, June6, 1868. The Washington "Na tional Intelligencer," published a full statement of it.

ETOWAH.

523

CHAPTER XXXIII.
* For the incidents related in this chapter giving the experience at Johnson's Island, see Southern Historical Society papers. The state ments can be verified by thousands of prisoners. Incidents giving indi vidual instances of sufferings are omitted, for it is not the desire of the writer to excite the evil passions of men.
\
CHAPTER XXXVII.
*See the official report of Generals James B. Steedman, U. S. V., and J. S. Fullerton, U. S. V., to E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War, dated May 8, 1866, for verification of every statement made in this chapter concern ing the operations of "The Freedmen's Bureau."

CHAPTER XXXVI.
* The remarks attributed to President Johnson in this chapter were actually his own words, made to a reporter for the London Standard in 1866, And the speech of Senator Thaddeus Stevens in the United States Senate, contained the exact words used in the context in same chapter.

CHAPTER XXXV.
* See pamphlet entitled "|A Military Outrage," giving the facts rela ting to this remarkable trial.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
* The argument attributed to the leading counsel for the accused in the brief speech introduced in this chapter, was used by Hon. Randolph Tucker, in a case involving the execution of condemned men who had not been tried by a petit jury.
CHAPTER XLI.
*The National Republican, of November 12,1887, states that there was, at that date, in the Treasury of the United States, the enormous sum of

524

ETOWAH.

six hundred and twelve millions,.si-x hundred and thirty-eight thousand four hundred and sixty-nine dollars.

CHAPTER XL.
*From" Cotton Facts "(edition of 1883), a standard authority, -we learn that the cotton crops of 1865-6 was 2,278,000 bales. A tax of 3 cents per pound on a bale of 450 pounds would amount to $13.50 per bale, and on 2,270,000 bales to $30,753,000 as the total tax collected for one year's crop. The tax was subsequently reduced, so that the total amount was about $68,000,000. In the absence of certain information I have given that as the probably correct estimate. The Government is certainly rich enough to restore this illegally exacted tax.