Hanover; Or The Persecution of the Lowly, Page 4

  CHAPTER II.

  The Colonel.

  There strode out of a humble but neatly furnished dwelling in theSouthern section of the city of Wilmington on a sultry morning inAugust, 1898, a man not over the average height, neatly dressed in awell-brushed suit of black. His full and well kept beard of mixed grayhung low upon his immaculate shirt front. His head classic and perfectlyfashioned, set well poised upon shoulders as perfectly proportioned asan Apollo. His gray hair parted upon the side of his head, was carefullybrushed over his forehead to hide its baldness, and from beneathabundant shaggy eyebrows, looked forth a pair of cold gray eyes. Thoughpast sixty, he was erect, and his step was as firm as a man of thirty.This was "The Colonel," typical Southern gentleman of the old school, adescendant of the genuine aristocracy, the embodiment of arrogance.

  The Southerners' definition of the term "gentleman" is a peculiar one.The gentleman is born, and there is no possible way for him to lose thetitle. He is a gentleman, drunk or sober, honest or dishonest, in prisonor out of prison. He is a gentleman with the stains of murder unwashedfrom his hands. It is birth and not character with the Southerner,appearance, rather than worth.

  While in New England settled the tanner, the wheelwright, theblacksmith, the hardy son of the soil who came over to escape religiouspersecution, and to serve God according to the dictates of his ownconscience, with none to molest or make him afraid, in the South theresettled England and Europe's aristocrat, lazy and self-indulgent,satisfied to live upon the unrequited toil of others.

  The "Colonel," aside from having a brilliant war record, had also alofty political career in North Carolina during and following thereconstruction period. Twenty years or more ago he, in the height of hiscareer, was the idol of Eastern North Carolina. "The silver-tonguedorator of the East," his appearance in any town or hamlet was greetedwith the greatest enthusiasm. Holidays were proclaimed and houses weredecked with flags and bunting in honor of the hero of the day and hour.The workman forgot his toil, the merchant his business; old and young,little and big thronged the streets, women raised their little ones intheir arms and cried, "See, the Colonel comes!" We listened with raptattention to his superior eloquence, and no man was more deeply rootedin the affections of his people. We esteemed him too high to be low, toolofty in thought and aspiration to do a mean thing. Republican aspirantsto Congress in those days were easily turned down by the Colonel whorepresented that district for three or more terms at the NationalCapitol. But there came a time when the Colonel's influence began towane; whisperings were current that he was indulging too freely in theSouthern gentleman's besetting sin--poker and mint julips, and that thebusiness of the people whose interests he had been sent to look afterwas being neglected. Still Wilmingtonians' confidence in the Colonel didnot slacken, and when the time for Congressional nominations came, wewent to Fayetteville with bands playing and banners flying, and wecheered ourselves hoarse in order to quicken slumbering interest in theColonel, but failed. Cumberland, Bladen, Mecklinburg and other countiescame down unanimously in favor of one Shackleford, of the upper section,a name almost unknown to us, and New Hanover, which stood alone for theColonel, was defeated. After the expiration of his term in Congress theColonel went to his home in Wilmington, and resumed the practice of law.The last time that I visited the old city, the Colonel was solicitor inthe Criminal Court. He had also moved out of his palatial dwelling onThird street, and sought cheaper quarters. Twenty years ago he wouldhave scorned the thought of doing this deed which he was nowcontemplating as he strode down the street on this sultry Augustmorning.

  "I will carry this election or choke the river with their carcasses," hesaid slowly to himself. But why this ghastly sentence from the mouth ofa representative Wilmingtonian? What had plunged the Colonel into such adesperate state of mind? Poverty! lost honor, unsatisfied ambition. TheNegro and the "low white" are prospering, holding positions in the citygovernment that rightfully belong to first families who are betterqualified to hold said positions and more entitled to the remunerations;but the changing of this order of things cannot be brought about byhonest methods, so like the hungry wolf, the Colonel is preparing tomake a desperate charge to carry the election and place himself inoffice, even if the streets of the old city flow with blood. Yea,although the usual state election time is some distance off, plans havebeen already secretly perfected not only to carry the election by theDemocrats, but to reduce the Negro majorities by banishment,intimidation and murder.

  Senator ----, by invitation, had visited the state, and advised thecarrying of the election with the shotgun, and had offered the loan offive hundred guns from South Carolina. Merchants, most of them inWilmington, had promised to discharge all colored help who showed adisposition to vote, and had also subscribed to a fund for the purposeof purchasing powder, guns and dynamite. A railroad company operatinginto the city had subscribed five hundred guns. Stump orators hadsecured the aid of the poor whites both in the city and rural districtsby promising them that by assisting to kill and chase the Negro from thecity, the property owned by the colored citizens would be turned over tothem. This was the work of hungry politicians who, to get office told aninfamous lie, and were ready to deluge a city in blood just to get intooffice. Certain Negroes and white men had been listed for slaughter andbanishment. Negro men and women who had had any difficulty in which theyhad gotten the best of a white person before the courts or otherwise,for even ten years back, were to be killed or driven from the city.Those who owned houses in white neighborhoods were to be driven out andtheir property taken. All this was being done quietly while the old cityrested peacefully upon this smouldering volcano. The Negro, unaware ofthe doom that awaited him, went quietly about his work; but there were afew white men in the city who, although Southerners by birth andeducation, did not coincide with the methods adopted for the securingof white supremacy. Among these was Mr. Gideon who could not bepersuaded to assist in such a movement, even in the minutest way. A fewmornings previous to the opening of my story, there had appeared in thecolumns of a small Negro journal edited in Wilmington, a short articlewhich had been interpreted as an intent to slander white women. This hadthrown the city into a fever of excitement, and dire threats had beenmade against the editor, and the flocking of the colored people to hisaid had made the whites that much more bitter toward Negroes in general.But they soon quieted down, and waited the "final day." The Colonelfeeling assured that this article in the Negro Journal would be themeans of driving all lukewarm whites into line, leisurely strolled onthis particular day toward the office of Mr. Gideon.

  "Why, good morning, Colonel!" said Mr. Gideon, arising from his desk andextending his hand toward the Colonel who strode noiselessly across thelarge office and gently tapped him upon the shoulder. The Colonel sankinto a chair, and opening the little sheet which he had drawn from hiscoat pocket, laid it on the desk before Mr. Gideon.

  "Now, is it not time for white men to act?"

  Mr. Gideon made no answer, but fastened his eyes upon the paper beforehim. The Colonel continued, "We have taken care of the Negro, paid histaxes, educated his children, tried to show to him that we were moreinterested in his well-being than the Yankee Radical Carpet-bagger hehas chosen to follow; but he has persistently disregarded us, unheededour advice, rode rough shod over us, and fretted us until patience is nolonger a virtue. The Negro has reached the end of his rope. Emboldenedby successful domination, and the long suffering of the white people ofthis community, this nigger has made an unpardonable attack upon ourwhite women. Now, Gideon, if this article is not sufficient to stimulateyou to join in with your brethren in driving the ungrateful nigger outof Wilmington and inducing white labor into it, you are not true to yourrace."

  Mr. Gideon turned in his chair and faced the Colonel, "I havepreviously read the article," he answered slowly "I have read alsowith--I must say--considerable disgust, the letters on the Negroquestion from the pen of Mrs. Fells, of Georgia, and the editorials ofKingston upon the subject; and to tell you th
e truth, Colonel, I mustcommend the boy for his courage; he was simply defending his raceagainst the attack."

  The Colonel jumped to his feet; "In the name of God, Gideon, do youbelieve that a nigger should answer a white man back?"

  "Under certain circumstances, Colonel, I do. Mrs. Fells style isextremely brazen, and can we expect to harp with impunity upon theshortcomings of the Negro? Let us blame the right persons; those whoseuncalled for assaults provoked the issuing of the article. But that's asmall matter just at this time. I have refrained from entering into thescheme of driving out Negroes, because I am concerned about the businessinterests of this city; sit down, Colonel, sit down and hear me out.Now, when we have driven out the Negro, whose to take his place? We havetried the poor white."

  "Why, encourage thrifty emigrants from the North." "Thrifty emigrantsfrom the North," echoed Mr. Gideon.

  "Invite labor unions, strikes, incendiarism, anarchy into our midst.Look at Illinois; can the South cope with such? The Negro we understand;he has stood by us in all of our ups and downs, stood manfully by ourwives and children while we fought for his enslavement. After the war wefound no more faithful ally than the Negro has been; he has helped us tobuild waste places and to bring order out of chaos. Now pray tell mewhere do we get the right to drive him from his home where he has asmuch right to dwell as we have?"

  "Then you believe in Negro rule?"

  "No!"

  "Yes you do Gideon, or you'd not talk in that manner," replied theColonel, now beside himself with rage. "Now, by heaven, we are going toput the Negro in his place. Look at our city government in the hands ofignorant niggers and carpet baggers. God did not intend that his whitefaced children were ever to be ruled by black demons," and the Colonelrose again and began to pace the floor.

  "Calm yourself, Colonel, calm yourself," said Mr. Gideon. "Now we oughtto be ashamed of ourselves to raise the cry of Negro rule in NorthCarolina, when we so largely outnumber them. I admit that there areobjectionable Negroes in Wilmington, Negroes who would greatly benefitthe community by leaving it; but shall we slay the righteous with thewicked? Must the innocent and guilty suffer alike? Ten righteous menwould have saved the cities of the plains."

  "But they could nt be found," interrupted the Colonel.

  "I warrant you they can be found here," calmly replied Mr. Gideon.

  "We the white people of this community, have often given expression ofour love and even veneration for such characters as Alfred Howe, HenryTaylor, John Norwood, George Ganse, John H. Howe, Thomas Revera, JoeSampson, Henry Sampson, Isham Quick, and scores of others whom we must,if we do the right thing, acknowledge as the black fathers of this city.Thrifty and industrious Negroes have always been the objects of the envyof poor whites who will eagerly grasp the opportunity when given, todestroy the property of these people. While it is your object, Colonel,to carry the election, and triumph politically, they will murder andplunder, and when once licensed and started, you cannot check them. Isee that they are being armed--a dangerous proceeding. Take careColonel; I beg you to beware lest those guns in the hands of thesepeople be turned upon you, and the best white people of this communitybe compelled to quit it. I listened with fear and apprehension a fewevenings ago, to Fisher's harrangue to the poor whites of Dry Pond. Theywill take him at his word, for they are just that ignorant. Shall we forthe sake of political ascension plunge Wilmington into an abyss ofshame?"

  "Now, Gideon," said the Colonel, "your talk is all nonsense, we aretrying to extricate Wilmington from the slough of infamy into which ithas been plunged by Radicals. We are going to elevate the white man tohis place and regulate Sambo to his sphere, if the streets have to flowwith blood to accomplish that end. Good niggers who know their placeswill be protected; but these half educated black rascals who thinkthemselves as good as white men, must go. 'Nigger root doctors' arecrowding white physicians out of business; 'nigger' lawyers are sassingwhite men in our courts; 'nigger' children are hustling white angels offour sidewalks. Gideon, in the name of God, what next? what next?" andthe Colonel bounded into the air like an Indian in a war dance. "Whitesupremacy must be restored, and you Gideon will regret the day yourefused to assist your white brethren to throw off the yoke ofoppression. Good day, Gideon, good day"; and the Colonel stalked out ofthe office.

  Uncle Ephraim, one of the old Nimrods who supplied Wilmington's marketswith savory ducks and rice birds, stood with his gun on the corner ofFront and Market streets that morning, as the Colonel briskly strodepast on his way from the office of Mr. Gideon to the Court House.

  "Good mawnin Co'nel," said Uncle Ephraim, saluting politely; but theColonel did not as usual pause to crack a joke with the docile olddarky; he did not even vouchsafe a nod of recognition, but moved hastilyon his way. Uncle Ephraim stood and wistfully watched the Colonel untilhe turned the corner of Second and Market streets.

  "Whoop! dar's er pow'ful big load on de Co'nel's mine sho. Dat white mandidn' eben see me; an' I his ole bodysarbant, too." Uncle Ephraim strodeslowly down Market street and entered the store of Sprague & Company."Look yer!" said he, "I wants er bout fo' ounce powder an er few cap."The salesman shook his head.

  "Wa fur yo' shake yer hed, you no got um?"

  "We are selling nothing of the kind to darkies just now, uncle."

  "But how I gwine fer kill duck?"

  The salesman made him no answer.

  Uncle Ephraim stood, looked about for a moment, then slowly saunteredinto the street, and made his way to Joslins, in South Front street, butwas also refused there. Going again to the corner of Market and FrontStreets, he saw several white men and boys enter Sprague & Company andcame out armed with shot guns and other fire-arms, and walk brisklyaway. "De ole boy is gwine to tun heself loose in dis yer town soon; ferI see um in de bery eye ob dese bocra. I can't buy um, but see how debocra go in an git um. Niggah, hit's time ter look er bout,"--and UncleEphraim slowly walked up Front Street towards Morrow's.