Bricks Without Straw Part 16

It was the n.o.blest spectacle that Christian civilization has ever witnessed--thousands of schools organized in the country of a vanquished foe, almost before the smoke of battle had cleared away, free to the poorest of her citizens, supported by the charity, and taught by kindly-hearted daughters of a quick-forgiving enemy. The instinct of our liberty-loving people taught them that light must go with liberty, knowledge with power, to give either permanence or value. Thousands of white-souled angels of peace, the tenderly-reared and highly-cultured daughters of many a Northern home, came into the smitten land to do good to its poorest and weakest. Even to this day, two score of schools and colleges remain, the glorious mementoes of this enlightened bounty and Christian magnanimity.

And how did the white brothers and sisters of these messengers of a matchless benevolence receive them? Ah, G.o.d! how sad that history should be compelled to make up so dark a record--abuse, contumely, violence! Christian tongues befouled with calumny! Christian lips blistered with falsehood! Christian hearts overflowing with hate!

Christian, pens reeking with ridicule because other Christians sought to do their needy fellows good! No wonder that faith grew weak and unbelief ran riot through all the land when men looked upon the spectacle! The present may excuse, for charity is kind; but the future is inexorable and writes its judgments with a pen hard-nibbed! But let us not antic.i.p.ate. In thousands of Northern homes still live to testify these devoted sisters and daughters, now grown matronly. They are scattered through every state, almost in every hamlet of the North, while other thousands have gone, with the sad truth carved deep upon their souls, to testify in that court where "the action lies in its true nature."

Nimbus found men even more ready to a.s.sist than he and his fellows were to be aided. He himself gave the land and the timbers; the benevolent a.s.sociation to whom he had appealed furnished the other materials required; the colored men gave the major part of the labor, and, in less than a year from the time the purchase was made, the house was ready for the school, and the old hostelry prepared for the teachers that had been promised.

So it was that, when Nimbus came to the officer in charge at Boyleston and begged that a teacher might be sent to Red Wing, and met the reply that because of the great demand they had none to send, Mollie Ainslie, hearing of the request, with her load of sorrow yet heavy on her lonely heart, said, "Here am I; take me." She thought it a holy work. It was, to her simple heart, a love-offering to the memory of him who had given his life to secure the freedom of the race she was asked to aid in lifting up. The gentle child felt called of G.o.d to do missionary work for a weak and struggling people. She thought she felt the divine commandment which rested on the Nazarene. She did not stop to consider of the "impropriety"

of her course. She did not even know that there was any impropriety in it. She thought her heart had heard the trumpet-call of duty, and, like Joan of Arc, though it took her among camps and dangers, she would not flinch. So Nimbus returned happy; an officer was sent to examine the location and report. Mollie, mounted upon Midnight, accompanied him. Of course, this fact and her unbounded delight at the quaint beauty of Red Wing was no part of the reason why Lieutenant Hamilton made a most glowing report on the location; but it was owing to that report that the officer at the head of the "Bureau" in that district, the department-commander, and finally the head of the Bureau, General Howard himself, indorsed the scheme most warmly and aided it most liberally. So that soon afterward the building was furnished as a school-house, Mollie Ainslie, with Lucy Ellison, an old schoolmate, as her a.s.sistant, was installed at the old hostlery, and bore sway in the school of three hundred dusky pupils which a.s.sembled daily at Red Wing. Midnight was given royal quarters in the old log-stable, which had been re-covered and almost rebuilt for his especial delectation, the great square stall, with its bed of dry oak leaves, in which he stood knee-deep, being sufficient to satisfy even Miss Mollie's fastidious demands for the comfort of her petted steed After a time Eliab Hill, to whose suggestion the whole plan was due, became also an a.s.sistant instructor.

Mollie Ainslie did not at all realize the nature of the task she had undertaken, or the burden of infamy and shame which a Christian people would heap upon her because of this kindly-meant work done in their midst!

CHAPTER XVIII.

"PRIME WRAPPERS."

It was more than a year afterward. Quite a little village had grown up around the church and school-house at Red Wing, inhabited by colored men who had been attracted thither by the novelty of one of their own members being a proprietor. Encouraged by his example, one and another had bought parcels of his domain, until its size was materially reduced though its value was proportionately enhanced.

Those who settled here were mostly mechanics--carpenters and masons--who worked here and there as they could find employment, a blacksmith who wrought for himself, and some farm laborers who dreaded the yearly system of hire as too nearly allied to the slave regime, and so worked by the day upon the neighboring plantations.

One or two bought somewhat larger tracts, intending to imitate the course of Nimbus and raise the fine tobacco for which the locality was already celebrated. All had built cheap log-houses, but their lots were well fenced and their "truck-patches" clean and thrifty, and the little hamlet was far from being unattractive, set as it was in the midst of the green forests which belted it about. From the plantations on either side, the children flocked to the school.

So that when the registering officer and the sheriff rode into the settlement, a few days after the registration at Melton, it presented a thriving and busy spectacle.

Upon the hillside, back of his house, Nimbus, his wife, and two men whom he had employed were engaged in cutting the tobacco which waved--crinkled and rank, with light ygjlowish spots showing here and there upon the great leaves--a billow of green in the autumn wind. The new-comers halted and watched the process for a moment as they rode up to the barn, while the sheriff explained to the unfamiliar Northman:

"This is the first cutting, as it is called. They only take out the ripest this time, and leave the rest for another cutting, a week or two later. You see, he goes through there," pointing to Nimbus, "and picks out the ripe, yellow-looking plants. Then he sets his knife in at the top of the stalk where it has been broken off to prevent its running up to seed, and splits it down almost to the ground; then he cuts the stalk off below the split, and it is ready to be hung on the thin narrow strips of oak, which you see stuck up here and there, where the cutting has been done. They generally put from seven to ten plants on a stick, according to the size of the plants; so that the number of sticks makes a very accurate measure of the size of the crop, and an experienced hand can tell within a few pounds the weight of any bulk of tobacco by simply counting the sticks."

They rode up to the barn and found it already half full of tobacco.

Nimbus came and showed the officer how the sticks were laid upon beams placed at proper intervals, the split plants hanging tops downward, close together, but not touching each other. The upper portions of the barn were first filled and then the lower tiers, until the tobacco hung within two or three feet of the bottom. The barn itself was made of logs, the interstices closely c.h.i.n.ked and daubed with clay, so as to make it almost air-tight. Around the building on the inside ran a large stone flue, like a chimney laid on the ground. Outside was a huge pile of wood and a liberal supply of charcoal. Nimbus thus described the process of curing: "Yer see, Capting, we fills de barn chock full, an' then shets it up fer a day or two, 'cording ter de weather, sometimes wid a slow fire an' sometimes wid none, till it begins ter sweat--git moist, yer know. Den we knows it's in order ter begin de curin', an' we puts on mo' fire, an' mo,' an' mo', till de whole house gits hot an' de leaves begins ter hev a ha'sh, rough feel about de edges, an' now an' den one begins ter yaller up. Den we raises de heat jes ze fast ez we kin an' not fire de barn. Some folks uses de flues alone an' some de coal alone, but I mostly 'pends on de flues wid a few heaps of coal jes here an' dar 'bout de flo', at sech a time, kase eberyting 'pends on a even reg'lar heat dat you kin manage good.

Den you keeps watch on it mighty close an' don't let it git too hot nor yet fail ter be hot 'nough, but jes so ez ter keep it yallerin'

up nicely. When de leaves is crisp an' light so dat dey rustles roun' in de drafts like dead leaves in the fall, yer know, it's cured; an' all yer's got ter du den is ter dry out de stems an'

stalks. Dat's got ter be done, tho,' kase ef yer leaves enny bit ob it green an' sappy-like, fust ting yer knows when it comes in order--dat is, gits damp an' soft--de green runs outen de stems down inter de leaves an' jes streaks 'em all ober, or p'raps it turns de fine yaller leaf a dull greenish brown. So yer's got ter keep up yer fire till every stalk an' stem'll crack like a pipe-stem ez soon ez yer bends 'em up. Den yer lets de fire go down an' opens der do' fer it ter come in order, so't yer kin bulk it down."

"What do you mean by 'bulking it down'?"

"Put it in bulk, like dis yer," said he, pointing to a pile of sticks laid crosswise of each other with the plants still on them, and carefully covered to keep out the weather. "Yer see," he continued, "dis answers two pu'poses; fust yergits yer barn empty an' uses it again. Den de weather don't git in ter signify, yer know, an' so it don't come inter order any more an' color up wid de wet; dat is, 'less yer leaves it too long or de wedder is mighty damp."

"Oh, he knows," said the sheriff, with a ring of pride in his voice. "Nimbus was raised in a tobacco-field, and knows as much as anybody about it. How did your first barn cure up, Nimbus?"

"Right bright and even, sah," answered the colored man, as he thrust his hand under the boards spread over the bulk near which he stood, and drew out a few leaves, which he smoothed out carefully and handed to his visitors. "I got it down in tol'able fa'r order, too, alter de rain t'odder evenin'. Dunno ez I ebber handled a barn thet, take it all round, 'haved better er come out fa'rer in my life--mighty good color an' desp'ut few lugs. Yer see, I got it cut jes de right time, an' de weather couldn't hev ben better ef I'd hed it made ter order."

The sheriff stretched a leaf to its utmost width, held it up to the sunshine, crumpled it between his great palms, held it to his face and drew a long breath through it, rubbed the edges between thumb and finger, pinched the stem with his thumb-nail till it broke in half a dozen places, and remarked with enthusiasm, to the Northern man, who stood rubbing and smelling of the sample he held, in awkward imitation of one whom he recognized as a connoisseur:

"That's prime terbacker, Captain. If it runs like that through the bulk and nothing happens to it before it gets to the warehouse, it'll bring a dollar a pound, easy. You don't often see such terbacker any year, much less such a one as this has been. Didn't it ripen mighty uneven, Nimbus?" "Jest about ez it oughter--a little 'arlier on the hilltop an' dry places 'long de sides, an'

den gradwally down ter de moister places. Dar wa'n't much ob dat pesky spotted ripenin' up--jes a plant h'yer an' anodder dar, all in 'mong de green, but jest about a good barnfull in tollable fa'r patches, an' den anodder comin' right on atter it. I'll hev it full agin an' fire up by to-morrer evenin'."

"Do you hang it right up after cutting?" asked the officer.

"Wal, we mout do so. Tain't no hurt ter do it dat er way, only it handles better ter let it hang on de sticks a while an' git sorter wilted--don't break de leaves off ner mash 'em up so much loadin'

an" unloadin', yer know," answered Nimbus.

"How much have you got here?" asked the sheriff, casting his eye over the field; "forty thousand?"

"Wal," said Nimbus, "I made up sixty thousand hills, but I hed ter re-set some on 'em. I s'pose it'll run somewhere between fifty an'

sixty thousand."

"A right good crop," said the sheriff. "I doubt if any man in the county has got a better, take it all 'round."

"I don't reckon ther's one wukked enny harder fer what he's got,"

said the colored man quietly.

"No, I'll guarantee ther hain't," said the other, laughing. "n.o.body ever accused you of being lazy, Nimbus. They only fault you fer being too peart."

"All 'cause I wants my own, an' wuks fer it, an' axes n.o.body enny odds, but only a fa'r show--a white man's chance ter git along,"

responded Nimbus, with a touch of defiance in his tone.

"Well, well," said the sheriff good-naturedly, "I won't never fault ye for that, but they do say you're the only man, white er black, that ever got ahead of Potem Desmit in a trade yet. How's that, Nimbus?"

"I paid him all he axed," said the colored man, evidently flattered by this tribute to his judgment as to the value of Red Wing. "Kase white folks won't see good fine-terbacker lan' when dey walks ober it, tain't my fault, is it?"

"No more tain't, Nimbus; but don't yer s'pose yer Ma.r.s.e Potem's smartly worried over it?"

"La, no, I reckon not. He don't 'pear ter be, ennyhow. He war by here when I was curin' up dis barn, an' stopped in an' looked at it, an' axed a power ob questions, an' got Lugena ter bring him out some b.u.t.termilk an' a corn pone. Den he went up an' sot an hour in de school an' sed ez how he war mighty proud ter see one of his ole n.i.g.g.a's gittin' on dat er way."

"Wal, now, that was kind of him, wasn't it?"

"Dat it war, sah, an' hit done us all a power ob good, too. Hev you ebber ben ter de school, Mr. Sheriff? No? wal, yer oughter; an' you, too, Capting. Dar's a little Yankee woman, Miss Mollie Ainslie, a runnin' ob it, dat do beat all curration fer managin'

tings. I'd nebber'd got long so h'yer, not by no means, ez I hez, but fer her advice--her'n an' 'Liab's, gentlemen. Dar she am now,"

he added, as a slight figure, mounted on a powerful black horse, and dressed in a dark riding-habit, with a black plume hanging from a low-crowned felt hat, came out of the woods below and cantered easily along the road a hundred yards away, toward the school-house.

The visitors watched her curiously, and expressed a desire to visit the school. Nimbus said that if they would walk on slowly he would go by the house and get his coat and overtake them before they reached the school-house. As they walked along the sheriff said,

"Did you notice the horse that Yankee schoolmarm rode?"

"I noticed that it was a very fine one," was the reply.

"I should think it was. I haven't seen a horse in an age that reminded me so much of the one I was telling you about that Hesden Le Moyne used to have. He is fuller and heavier, but if I was not afraid of making Hesden mad I would rig him about a n.i.g.g.e.r-teacher's riding his horse around the country. Of course it's not the same, but it would be a good joke, only Hesden Le Moyne is not exactly the man one wants to start a joke on."

When they arrived at the school-house they found that Mollie Ainslie had changed her habit and was now standing by the desk on the platform in the main room, clad in a neat half-mourning dress, well adapted to the work of the school-room, quiet and composed, tapping her bell to reduce to order the many-hued crowd of scholars of all ages and sizes who were settling into their places preparatory to the morning roll-call. Nimbus took his visitors up the broad aisle, through an avenue of staring eyes, and introduced them awkwardly, but proudly, to the self-collected little figure on the platform.

She in turn presented to them her a.s.sistant, Miss Lucy Ellison, a blushing, peach-cheeked little Northern beauty, and Eliab Hill, now advanced to the dignity of an a.s.sistant also, who sat near her on the platform. The sheriff nodded awkwardly to the ladies, as if doubtful how much deference it would do to display, said, "How d'ye, 'Liab?" to the crippled colored man, laid his saddle-bags on the floor, and took the chair a.s.signed to him. The Northern man greeted the young ladies with apparent pleasure and profound respect, shook hands with the colored man, calling him "Mister" Hill, and before sitting down looked out on the crowded school with evident surprise.

Before proceeding with the roll-call Miss Ainslie took the large Bible which lay upon her desk, and approaching the gentlemen said:

"It is our custom every morning to read a portion of the Scripture and offer prayer. We should be glad if either of you would conduct these exercises for us."

Both declined, the sheriff with some confusion, and the other remarking that he desired to see the school going on as if he were not present, in order that he might the better observe its exercises.

Miss Ainslie returned to her desk, called the roll of a portion of the scholars, and then each of her a.s.sistants called the names of those a.s.signed to their charge. A selection from the Scripture was next read by the preceptress, a hymn sung under her lead with great spirit and correctness, and then Eliab Hill, clasping his hands, said, "Let us pray." The whole school knelt, the ladies bowed their heads upon the desk, and Eliab offered an appropriate prayer, in which the strangers were not forgotten, but were each kindly and fitly commended to the Divine care. Then there was an impromptu examination of the school. Each of the teachers heard a cla.s.s recite, there was more singing, with other agreeable exercises, and it was noon before the visitors thought of departing. Then they were invited to dine with the lady teachers at the old Ordinary, and would have declined, on the ground that they must go on to the next precinct, but Nimbus, who had been absent for an hour, now appeared and brought word that the table was spread on the porch under the great oak, and their horses already cared for; so that excuse would evidently be useless. The sheriff was very uneasy, but the other seemed by no means displeased at the delay. However, the former recovered when he saw the abundant repast, and told many amusing stories of the old hostel. At length he said:

"That is a fine horse you rode this morning, Miss Ainslie. May I ask to whom it belongs?"