ill 
 
 OF 
 
 
 JAMES W, NICHOLSON 
 
Class_/^^7l/ 
 
 GopightN?. 
 
 COPyRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
Nick when a little boy 
 
STORIES OF DIXIE 
 
 JAMES W. NICHOLSON, A.M.. LL.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS 
 LOUISIANA STATE UNIVERSITY 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO 
 

 Copyright, 1915, by 
 
 James W. Nicholson, 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 NICHOLSON, STORIES OF DIXIE 
 E. P. I 
 
 oi 
 
 ©C1.A411989 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 One of the wisest and most beautiful acts 
 
 related in this book 
 
 is that referred to by Governor McEnery 
 
 in the conclusion of the story of the Gee Place: 
 
 *' When Doctor Egan and my father died 
 
 their sons came together 
 
 and agreed not to prolong the feud of their fathers„ 
 
 Accordingly, the matter was dropped and forgotten, 
 
 and there are now 
 
 no warmer friends in the state 
 
 than the sons of those two good men." 
 
 THE CHILDREN 
 OF THOSE WHO WORE THE BLUE 
 
 and 
 
 THE CHILDREN 
 OF THOSE WHO WORE THE GRAY, 
 
 in pursuing the same wise and patriotic course, 
 have given to the nation's history 
 
 ITS MOST GLORIOUS CHAPTER. 
 
 To these sons and daughters, 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH, 
 
 this little labor of love 
 
 IS DEDICATED. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This book is made up of true stories about Dixie — 
 stories of people and conditions. In it there are no excesses 
 and no fanciful creations, whether of persons or affairs. 
 Its aim is to instruct and entertain by portraying, simply 
 and truthfully, real things and happenings in Dixie. 
 
 If the history of the South be regarded as a building this 
 book aims to be the vestibule thereof, and the attempt has 
 been made so to construct and furnish it that those who 
 enter therein may be incited to go on into the building 
 itself. Should it be thought that too much is said of 
 trifles the reply would be: (1) the book is intended mainly 
 for young people; and (2) one has a lopsided knowledge of 
 the people of Dixie who knows nothing of their jokes and 
 sports. 
 
 A quasi biography of "Nick" runs through the book. 
 While true, as far as it goes, its purpose is chiefly me- 
 chanical. It is somewhat of a path winding its way 
 through a forest from which the necessary bearings are 
 taken to draw a map of the tract. Around it are woven the 
 "stories of Dixie" pretty much as the gems and jewels of a 
 crown are entwined about the skeleton frame that holds 
 them in order, continuity, and perspective. 
 
 The white people of the South are generally homoge- 
 neous as to manners, habits, and ideals. They sprang 
 from a common ancestry and have been molded by like 
 means and agencies. Probably the section which was most 
 
 6 
 
PREFACE 7 
 
 representative of the whole South in 1860 was North 
 Louisiana. At that time it was the last section settled, 
 and its healthful climate, fertile lands, and abundant 
 timber, fish, and game attracted settlers from all parts of 
 the South. It was Dixie in a nutshell, and for this reason 
 it is made the scene of many of the stories. 
 
 This book had its origin in two suggestions, one coming 
 from a northern and the other from a southern source: 
 
 In the early spring of 1913 the author, while dining with 
 Dr. W. T. H. Howe, of Cincinnati, O., attempted to en- 
 tertain him with stories of the South. The doctor's ap- 
 preciation of the narratives was such that he suggested 
 the writing and publishing of them in book form. 
 
 About the same time The Daily Picayune, of New 
 Orleans, having referred very approvingly to a communi- 
 cation from Dr. Van Dyke to the children of New Jersey, 
 suggested a message from the present writer to the children 
 of Louisiana. 
 
 The author wishes to thank most heartily his colleague 
 Hugh Mercer Blain, Ph.D., Professor of English, who has 
 read the manuscript and offered many helpful suggestions. 
 
 In retraveling, as it were, the long voyage described 
 in this book the author has been accompanied by his 
 daughter, Mrs. A. P. Daspit, and to him she has been a 
 cheering and helpful companion,— a motor and a rudder. 
 Among other things she has often reminded him of the 
 two old maxims: "The secret of being tiresome is in telling 
 everything," and "The most completely lost of all days is 
 that on which one has not laughed." 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Story of a Typical Settler 11 
 
 Cane Ridge 11 
 
 Events and stories 19 
 
 Good dogs, a coon hunt, and a fight 23 
 
 Nick and the Cardinal 28 
 
 An old-time school 30 
 
 A hunt, a whir, a rustle, and a stampede 35 
 
 II. The Story of the Pioneers 41 
 
 The Atlantic slope 41 
 
 Growth of the colonies 45 
 
 The call of the West 48 
 
 The westward movement 51 
 
 An illustration of the westward movement 55 
 
 III. The Story of a Westward Move 59 
 
 More elbow room 59 
 
 Off for Louisiana 61 
 
 New Orleans Then and Now 64 
 
 Up the Red River 71 
 
 IV. The Story of a Typical Neighborhood. . . 83 
 
 Uncle Wash moves from Cane Ridge. ... 83 
 
 Progressive Development 88 
 
 The Forest Grove School 98 
 
 V. The Story of a Typical Section 104 
 
 Typical of Dixie 104 
 
 Two good signs 105 
 
 The Gee Place 106 
 
 A peaceful and jjrosperous land 114 
 
 Religion and churches . 117 
 
 Introducing Oat 120 
 
 Homer College 125 
 
 8 
 
CONTENTS 9 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 VI. The Story of the Beginning of the War. . 133 
 
 The irrepressible conflict 133 
 
 Nick goes to war 134 
 
 Camp Moore 143 
 
 VII. The Story of Events of the War 152 
 
 Minor incidents 152 
 
 A fish story 157 
 
 A Confederate scout 160 
 
 Stories of Oat 163 
 
 An interrupted oration 169 
 
 The Confederate x\rmy starts for Ten- 
 nessee 176 
 
 A student soldier 179 
 
 A perilous adventure 183 
 
 General Sherman and Colonel Boyd 186 
 
 VIII. The Story of the Close of the War 193 
 
 Cheerful endurance 193 
 
 Closing scenes 195 
 
 The fortunes of an old flag 200 
 
 The curtain falls on a scene both sad and 
 
 droll 203 
 
 IX. The Story of the Homeward Tramp 206 
 
 The remnant starts home 206 
 
 A great southern leader 208 
 
 An old-time southern aristocrat 210 
 
 A few great Georgians 214 
 
 A long and jolly ride 222 
 
 More surprises 226 
 
 The Gulf and its chief tributary 229 
 
 The home stretch 235 
 
 APPENDIX 242 
 
STORIES OF DIXIE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 Cane Ridge 
 
 A long time ago four sturdy oxen were drawing a 
 heavy wagon through the valleys and over the hills 
 of northern Louisiana. There was, here and there, 
 the semblance of a road winding its w^ay through the 
 forest and connecting the crude homes of the settlers 
 who had entered these wilds and broken their long 
 silence with the ax and the gun. Uncle Nathan, 
 driver of the team, often found it necessary to stop 
 
 11 
 
12 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 and remove a log or tree top from the path, or cut a 
 way around a deep and rugged washout. 
 
 Never did one look upon a lovelier land; at least, 
 so thought Uncle Wash, who rode on horseback ahead 
 of his wagon to select the best route and lead Uncle 
 Nathan along the way of least 
 resistance. To him a charming 
 feature of the country was that 
 it was so little defaced and de- 
 filed by man's habitation. There 
 was a profusion of wild flowers, 
 great and splendid trees, and 
 rich valleys separated by gentle 
 swells which now and then rose 
 to the dignity of hills. Springs 
 of clear, pure water spouted 
 from the hillsides, and numer- 
 ous brooks, fed from these foun- 
 tain heads, ran down the valleys 
 and flowed with a cheerful mur- 
 ii'p^ nmr through the land. Along 
 W'^10^^^ the creeks, formed by the join- 
 
 /r j [ ^=^^"- ing of these branches, were nu- 
 
 w^^,_ merous swamps varying 
 
 in width from a few rods 
 to half a mile. 
 
 To one who has no 
 
CANE RIDGE 13 
 
 great love of the wilds these swamps would have 
 had a dismal aspect, owing to their murky bayous, 
 the dark shadows of the luxuriant woods, and 
 the rank growths of vines and cane. Not so with 
 Uncle Wash. Even the gaunt cypress knees, which 
 stood like ghosts in the muddy lowlands, were as at- 
 tractive to him as the graceful pines on the hills or 
 the white dogwood blossoms in the valleys. 
 
 Two years before the scene here described Uncle 
 Wash had moved from Alabama to Louisiana. On 
 reaching this new, and to him unknown, land he 
 thought best to select a temporary site, and prepare 
 hasty quarters in which he and his might live until 
 he could look about and find a choice locality for his 
 permanent home. This had been done, and he was 
 now moving from the first place to the site of the 
 second one. The party consisted of himself. Aunt 
 Martha (his wife), his little children, and a few slaves, 
 among whom were Uncle Nathan and Aunt Kitty 
 (the cook). Late one summer afternoon the movers 
 arrived at the point where their new home was to be 
 established. 
 
 In the center of the new locality was a hill of me- 
 dium size, crowned by a flat tract of about six acres. 
 The east side of the hill sloped down to a clear branch 
 that flowed at its base; the west side dipped down 
 more abruptly to a rich plateau that extended to a 
 
14 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 pretty stream called Cane Creek; and the north and 
 south sides slanted down more gently to rich valleys. 
 It was a wild and romantic-looking place. On the hill 
 and in the valleys were great trees — oak, ash, hickory, 
 elm, pine, beech, gum — and in the swamps grew 
 many cypresses; in the midst of all were growths of 
 ironwood, dogwood, maple, chinquapin, holly and 
 witch-hazel. Here and there were networks of grape 
 and muscadine vines so dense that the sun seldom 
 shone through them. Large reed-canes covered the 
 valleys, and a smaller kind, called switch-cane, ex- 
 tended far up the hillsides. 
 
 Having reached the end of their rough journey, the 
 movers dismounted and began hasty preparations 
 for the night. While the men were feeding the stock 
 and providing temporary quarters, the women were 
 busy cooking the evening meal. Although only hoe- 
 cake, fried venison, and coffee formed this frugal 
 repast, yet seldom has a more elegant and bountiful 
 one been so thoroughly enjoyed. As slice after slice 
 of the meat was fried, the savory odor caused all to 
 realize how hungry they were. What a stimulus to 
 hearty eating is life in the woods! 
 
 The next morning Uncle Wash stood on the hill, 
 viewed the prospect, and formed his plans. "I will 
 build my houses," said he, "on the top of this hill, 
 where my family and negroes will be above the 
 
CANE RIDGE 
 
 15 
 
 O 
 
 malaria of the lowlands; I will build my barns, horse- 
 lot, and cowpen on the gentle slope by the branch, 
 where the stock will always have plenty of water; I 
 will plant my garden on the rich plateau at the foot 
 of the hill on the other side; and I will have my fields 
 in the fertile valleys on the north and south sides." 
 
 There was much hard work to be done. Houses 
 were to be built, lands cleared, rails split, and fences 
 made; and many other things of more or less im- 
 portance had to be attended to. 
 Among the most urgent of the 
 many needs were houses to live in. 
 So the building of cabins was at 
 once begun. There being no lum- 
 ber mills in the country, these 
 dwellings were made of the halves 
 of round pine logs, notched at the 
 ends so that they would lie close 
 together. The small 
 cracks between the 
 pieces were lined on 
 the inside with 
 boards and chinked 
 on the outside with 
 a kind of mortar 
 made of clay and 
 straw. 
 
16 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 At least a part of these huts was first-class, and 
 that was the roof. Cypress trees were plentifuL 
 A choice one was selected, felled, and sawed into 
 short cuts. From these cuts the sapwood was 
 removed and the remaining heartwood split into 
 bolts, which were rived into boards by means of a 
 froe. The cabins were covered with these boards. 
 A roof so made has been known to last "three score 
 years and ten." 
 
 The next work of importance was opening and 
 fencing the fields, and putting them in a state of til- 
 lage. Where a wilderness of goodly trees had over- 
 spread the ground there was soon naught but black- 
 ened stumps, and along the wooded border of the 
 bright sunny opening was a strong worm fence ten 
 rails high. With the plowing of the land came the 
 blackbird and the bluebird, whose merry chirping 
 seemed to be attuned to the bracing odor of the fresh 
 upturned soil. 
 
 On the farm and garden and about the house and 
 yard there was something for every one to do. Men, 
 women, and children, white and black, worked from 
 dawn to dark. It was a hive in which there were no 
 drones. All hands arose in the morning, as Uncle 
 Wash ordered, *'by times." 
 
 Breakfast and supper were prepared and eaten by 
 the light of a "suet lamp." This old-time lamp is 
 
CANE RIDGE 
 
 17 
 
 entitled t o 
 more than a 
 passing no- 
 tice. The 
 only means 
 the settlers 
 had of ob- 
 taining lights 
 were with 
 pine knots, 
 lightwood , 
 
 and grease. The kind of 
 grease most used by the 
 pioneers was a crude oil taken from 
 the fat of bears. A saucer or tin plate 
 was filled with the grease, and into 
 it was dropped a cord with one end protruding. 
 The exposed end was lighted, and served as the wick 
 of a candle. This outfit, often called a suet lamp, 
 being better than anything of the kind the settlers 
 had ever seen, was thought by them to "just fill the 
 bill." When beef tallow and nuitton suet became 
 more plentiful than bear's oil, one of these was used 
 instead of the latter. In the march of progress the 
 suet lamp was followed by "molded tallow" candles, 
 and these by "store-bought star" candles, which, in 
 time, gave place to coal oil lamps. The latter came 
 
 <3.«g^-tia^\ 
 
18 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 into use in that section soon after the close of the 
 Civil War. 
 
 A smokehouse was a necessary part of every set- 
 tler's home. In it meat of all kinds was cured and 
 kept. It had no floor. On the 
 "dirt floor," as it was called, a 
 fire was made and kept burning 
 day and night, but it was so 
 smothered that it burned slowly, 
 producing little fire and much 
 smoke. The smoke cured the 
 meat, and I doubt whether there 
 has ever been any way of mak- 
 ing sweeter meat. If you have 
 never eaten smoked bacon or 
 sausage you have missed, ac- 
 cording to Uncle Nathan, " de nex 
 bes' thing to possum and taters." 
 A great deal of salt was wasted in curing meat, and 
 this was absorbed by the dirt floor on which it 
 fell. Thus, in the course of years, this ground be- 
 came a very good salt mine. During the Civil War, 
 when salt became scarce, many Southern families 
 dug up the ground floors of their old smokehouses 
 and obtained enough salt from the dirt to tide them 
 over the hour of need. This was an instance in which 
 waste proved to be "bread cast upon the waters." 
 
Nick as a soldier 
 
EVENTS AND STORIES 19 
 
 As soon as Uncle Wash had the time and means he 
 built larger and more comfortable houses. In front 
 of the cabin occupied by the whites he erected a very 
 creditable residence, and the cabin thus vacated was 
 fitted up for a kitchen and dining room. 
 
 In the course of time other settlers came, and with 
 this growth in population and means the roads were 
 improved and the streams bridged. After a while the 
 towns of Homer and Farmerville, the county seats of 
 two adjoining parishes, were founded. Uncle Wash 
 helped to plan and make the road joining these 
 towns. It ran by his home, and when a mail route 
 was put on it a post office was located in his house. 
 For this office he suggested the name of Cane Ridge, 
 and it still goes by that name. 
 
 Events and Stories 
 
 Uncle Wash had the gifts and arts of a good woods- 
 sportsman. He was a tireless walker and sat a horse 
 as if he were a part of it. With an innate love of 
 trapping and fowling, fishing and hunting, few sur- 
 passed him in the use of the gun and the fishing 
 rod, and fewer still in the art of making and setting 
 traps and nets. He was divided between love of 
 fields and love of swamps, with the greater inclina- 
 tion toward swamps. The prospects of abundant 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE, — 2 
 
^0 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 crops and abundant sports were 
 equally well pleasing to him. 
 
 As to manner and matter the fol- 
 lowing is typical of conversations 
 held at Cane Ridge: 
 
 "My dear," said Aunt Martha to 
 Uncle Wash, "the meat is about out, 
 and you will have to take your gun 
 and obtain some from the woods." 
 
 "Can't do it, Martha; can't do it. 
 Too busy now," said he. 
 Uncle Wash liked to be urged to do the very thing 
 
 he most desired to do, especially to hunt. He wished 
 
 people to think that he never neglected his duties 
 
 on the farm for the pleasures and spoils of the woods. 
 
 But he did not fool Aunt 
 
 Martha; she knew he was al- 
 ways anxious to get into the 
 
 woods with his gun and dogs. 
 
 However, she never seemed 
 
 to doubt his sincerity. So 
 
 now she said, 
 
 "I know you are quite 
 
 busy, my dear, but neither 
 
 you nor the hands can work 
 
 very long without something 
 
 to eat." 
 
EVENTS AND STORIES 21 
 
 "The hands," said he, "are now doing a certain 
 work, and if I leave them they will either do it wrong 
 or not do it at all. Really you had better feed us all 
 on scraps to-morrow." 
 
 He took his hat and started toward the door. But, 
 seeing that Aunt Martha was not going to urge him 
 further he stopped and said, 
 
 "It has just occurred to me, Martha, that I have to 
 go in the woods soon to select some rail timber, and by 
 going now I might kill two birds with the same stone. 
 What kind of game do you wish, large or small .^" 
 
 "As you wish to get back to your work as soon as 
 possible, we can make out with a few birds or squir- 
 rels; and these you can get near by." 
 
 "While I am at it," said he, "I might just as well 
 get enough to last some time." 
 
 He went, and in a few hours returned for Nathan; 
 he needed him to help bring home probably a deer 
 and a gobbler. 
 
 In the course of time Uncle Wash had a number of 
 cows and hogs, and they throve on the rich food they 
 obtained in the range. The cows were milked in the 
 cowpen by Aunt Kitty, and there was enough butter, 
 buttermilk or "clabber" to supply both whites and 
 blacks. Just before " hog-killing time " the hogs were 
 "stall-fed"; that is, they were penned and fed on 
 corn. This made the meat sweet. 
 
THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 As night came on the 
 
 stock would leave the 
 
 woods, come home, and 
 
 sleep under the trees around 
 
 the yard. Even some of 
 
 the hogs which had be- 
 come wild in the woods 
 
 would do this to protect 
 
 themselves and their young 
 
 ones from the wolves and a ^ 
 
 bears. Some animals seem hj^f^j 
 
 to show great foresight in •^'' 
 
 this way. A mother deer 
 
 will leave her young fawn 
 
 in the bushes near a public road, knowing that 
 
 bears and wolves are not likely to go near where 
 
 men travel. 
 
 One day Uncle Wash went into the woods to look 
 
 after some of his wild hogs. Just as he reached a 
 
 bend in the path along which he was riding he met 
 
 a panther. The beast was not more than twenty 
 
 feet away. It at once 
 crouched and began to 
 wag its tail, which is the 
 - - habit of the panther 
 when about to spring on 
 its prey. Uncle Wash 
 
 
GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, AND A FIGHT 23 
 
 usually went well armed, but at this time he had 
 only his great bowie knife. He knew that with this 
 he could cleave the animal's head if he got a fair 
 chance, but he did not wish to run the risk of getting 
 such a chance. 
 
 Wild animals seldom attack a man except when 
 driven to it by hunger or in self-defense. As a rule 
 they are more afraid of a man than he is of them. 
 Uncle Wash knew this, and adopted the hunter's 
 method of cowering the beast by outstaring it. With 
 his knife in his hand he and the panther gazed mutely 
 but intently into each other's eyes. Finally the 
 animal glanced to one side as if looking for a safe 
 place of retreat; then the rider suddenly spurred his 
 horse and it leaped toward the panther. This so 
 frightened the wild beast that it scampered off into 
 the woods as fast as it could go. 
 
 Good Dogs, a Coon Hunt, and a Fight 
 
 Uncle Wash was fond of dogs, and all dogs liked 
 him on a very short acquaintance. He would walk 
 boldly into a yard, seemingly not noticing the fierce 
 dogs that threatened to attack him, and right in the 
 face of the angry animals he would squat down 
 quietly and in a low and jovial tone say: "Howdy do, 
 boys! How are you all to-day.'^ Come up and let's 
 
24 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 talk it over." At first they 
 looked at him as if they thought he was 
 crazy; but soon they were his friends. 
 One of his sayings was, "You can 
 1^ always tie to the man that loves a 
 
 dog." Every stray dog in the " regions around " 
 would come to him, and he was never known to 
 turn one away. However poor and no-account the 
 dog was on its arrival, it was soon changed into a 
 fat, useful, and " genteel " dog. Uncle Wash was 
 never without a number of good dogs — hunting dogs 
 and watchdogs. The barking of these faithful senti- 
 nels at night gave every one, even the cows and 
 hogs, a feeling of safety. It is mostly in pioneer life 
 that one comes to love and value a good dog. 
 
GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, AND A FIGHT 25 
 
 Early one morning Uncle Wash and Uncle Nathan 
 went into the fields to kill some coons that were 
 destroying the young corn growing near the swamps. 
 Uncle Wash took his gun and Uncle Nathan his ax. 
 
 "Now, Nathan," said Uncle Wash, "the only dogs 
 we need are Rouse, Bull, and Step." 
 
 The first two were large and strong and the third 
 was an active heavy-built fice. All were stalwart and 
 valiant, and eager for a fray with a coon or a panther. 
 Rouse, especially, was the hero of many a well-fought 
 battle. 
 
 They came to a point in the field where there was 
 a dense canebrake just outside. The dogs roused 
 something and chased it off through the canebrake. 
 "That is no coon or bear," said Uncle Wash. "It is 
 a wildcat, a catamount, or a panther." 
 
 It is strange how an old hunter can tell from the 
 way his dogs chase an animal what kind of animal 
 it is. In a short time the yelping of the dogs was 
 changed to a deep-mouthed baying. "They have 
 treed it," said Uncle Wash, "and we must go to them 
 at once." 
 
 They climbed over the fence and plunged into the 
 canebrake. Uncle Nathan went ahead, and bent or 
 cut the cane so that they could pass through. At last 
 they came to an open glade, in the center of which 
 was a large hollow cypress log, and in this the beast 
 
26 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 had taken refuge. Step was staring into the hollow 
 log and growling. The hair on his back stood straight 
 up, and he had braced himself as if for a battle. 
 Uncle Wash patted him on the back and said, "Sick 
 'em, boy," and into the log Step went. There was at 
 once the rumble of a severe tussle — gnashing, biting, 
 and scratching. Poor Step! He soon came out, and 
 with gashes on his head and neck he looked up sadly 
 into his master's face and seemed to say: "I can't 
 whip him by myself." 
 
 "I thought so," said Uncle Wash, **it is a cat- 
 amount." 
 
 Now a catamount is like a wildcat, but much 
 larger, stronger, and fiercer. Nathan then cut a hole 
 in the top of the log, and it happened to be just over 
 
GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, xVND A FIGHT 27 
 
 the animars neck. Uncle Wash, hoping to have some 
 fun, cut a forked stick, straddled it over the beast, 
 and threw his weight upon it. But the cat was so 
 strong it slipped from under the stick and came 
 boldly out of the log. Step nabbed it first, probably 
 knowing that he was not now to fight the battle 
 alone. 
 
 In an instant Rouse and Bull flew to Step's aid, 
 and the fight was on. Round and round, over and 
 over they went, growling and biting, scratching and 
 gnashing. The great cat slashed with its long claws 
 and bit with its sharp teeth, rending the hides and 
 tearing the flesh of the dogs. But the dogs had strong 
 jaws and long teeth, a courage that knew no fear, 
 and nerves that would stand all pain. They gave a 
 bite for a scratch and a gash for every wound. xAt 
 last the cat, getting a good chance, leaped again into 
 the hollow log. 
 
 Now the cat might have been killed with the gun 
 or the ax; but Uncle Wash, like all sportsmen, pre- 
 ferred to see "the fight to a finish." So he told old 
 Nathan to split open the old shell. This done, the 
 cat made a great leap to a near-by tree, but before it 
 could ascend, the dogs seized it and dragged it to the 
 ground. The fight was renewed with vigor and 
 ferocity. Rouse fought to reach the cat's neck and 
 the cat fought to defend it. Rouse won, seized the 
 
28 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 vital spot, and sank his teeth deep into the cat's 
 throat. That was the last of the fight. 
 
 Nick and the Cardinal 
 
 Nowhere are birds more numerous or more beau- 
 tiful than in Louisiana, and nowhere are their notes 
 richer or their songs sweeter. Many of them come 
 every springtime as old friends returning from ram- 
 bles in foreign lands, and many others here live and 
 die, — helpful and cheering neighbors no less in De- 
 cember than in May. Among these latter is the 
 redbird, or cardinal. Perched on a twig in the garden 
 it is easily mistaken for a brilliant poinsettia. Alert 
 and erect, graceful and strong, with its martial notes 
 resembling those of a fife, it is fittingly known as the 
 cardinal. In no other small creature are the lines of 
 strength and beauty more elegantly blended. It is a 
 friend to the farmer and an ornament to the field 
 and forest, and its destruction should be prevented 
 by custom as well as by law. It would seem that 
 no one would wish to destroy a thing so pretty, so 
 harmless, and so useful. But consideration for a 
 bird from a boy! One might as well look for mercy 
 in a pack of hounds pursuing a fox. 
 
 Nick was no exceptional boy. He had seen his 
 father (Uncle Wash) make coops and traps and 
 
NICK AND THE CARDINAL 
 
 catch quails and tur- 
 keys in them. So when 
 he was seven years 
 old he made a trap 
 without any help, and 
 set it in a brier patch 
 where many small 
 birds were in the habit 
 of going every day. 
 One morning, going 
 quietly to it, he peeped over 
 the weeds and, oh ! — there was a 
 redbird in it. His heart beat for 
 joy. He slipped his hand under the trap and seized 
 the bird. Maybe he did not know that a cardinal 
 can bite, and bite hard; but he soon found it out. 
 When he caught the bird it seized his finger with its 
 strong bill. But one thing sure, Nick was not going 
 to let the bird go. He thought too much of the 
 cardinal for that. With his left hand he pulled the 
 bird loose from the other hand. Now the cardinal, 
 plucky soldier that he is, resolved that if he must die 
 he would die fighting. As fast as Nick pulled him 
 loose from one hand he grabbed the other. This 
 grabbing and pulling went on so fast it looked as if 
 Nick was pulling candy. At last the boy got the 
 cardinal by the head and clutched it so hard that, as 
 
30 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 Nick said, "the mouth could not come open." The 
 blood was oozing from the scratches on Nick's fingers, 
 and when he reached home his hands and the cardinal 
 were pretty much of the same color. 
 
 An Old-time School 
 
 For a long time there was no school or church near 
 Cane Ridge. In the course of time the settlers 
 thought there were enough of them to erect a building 
 that would answer for both a church and a school. 
 The spot chosen for it was about one mile east of 
 Cane Ridge. The house was made of round pine 
 logs, and the pulpit and floor of heavy slabs hewn 
 
AN OLD-TIME SCHOOL 31 
 
 with a broadax. There was a wide slab of the same 
 kind fastened to the walls, all around, to answer the 
 purpose of desks, on which the pupils were taught to 
 write, using pens made of goose quills. The seats 
 were the halves of round logs with four pegs for legs, 
 the flat side forming the top. There were no desks or 
 blackboards. 
 
 When Nick started to this school, a man having a 
 squint, whom the boys called "Cross-eyed Bill," was 
 the teacher. Speaking of the course of study a wag 
 said, "It is made up of spelling, reading, writing, 
 ciphering, and flogging." Cross-eyed BiH always 
 kept on hand a good supply of switches — chinquapin 
 for the girls and hickory for the boys. The patrons 
 measured the merits of the school very largely by 
 the number of boys and girls that got "licked" every 
 day. One night when Dick Williams reached home 
 his father asked, "Dick, how many uv em got licked 
 to-day.?" 
 
 "Jes three boys and two gals," said Dick. 
 
 "Twon't do," said the old man, "'twon't do; de 
 dis'pline of de school is givin' way; de Board will have 
 to look into it." 
 
 Among the textbooks used were Webster's blue- 
 back speUer and Smiley's arithmetic. One of the 
 "practical" subjects of the latter was "Barter and 
 Trade." A problem like the following was thought 
 
32 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 to be very practical: A farmer bought 500 yards of 
 cottonade at 5}^ cents a yard and agreed to pay for 
 it with fox hides at $2.50 per hide; how many hides 
 did it take? Another noted section of arithmetic was 
 the *'Rule of Three." It was commonly believed 
 that any "sum" (problem) could be "worked" 
 (solved) by this rule, yet scarcely one in a hundred 
 could solve anything by it. One of the patrons said, 
 "I would never let a son of mine go beyond the rule 
 of three, for I have never seen a boy do so that 
 did not take the big head." 
 
 Near the door was a bucket of water, and above 
 it hung a gourd dipper. Standing in the doorway 
 and pretending to drink water gave the students 
 a chance and an excuse to get a good view of 
 
 anyone passing along 
 the public road, a sight 
 that was sought as 
 one of unfailing inter- 
 est. Hence, the sound 
 of an approaching 
 horse, buggy, or wagon 
 was the pretext for a 
 number of boys and 
 girls to become very 
 thirsty and rush for 
 the bucket. 
 
AN OLD-TIME SCHOOL 
 
 33 
 
 Of all the problems the boys had to solve none 
 gave them more concern than trying to "cipher out" 
 when Cross-eyed Bill was looking at 
 them. You see, one of his eyes 
 looked one way and the other an- 
 other way, and many a poor boy got 
 into trouble by looking at the wrong 
 eye. 
 
 Most of the boys prided them- 
 selves in being good spitters. They 
 had a way of spitting between two 
 fingers pressed against their lips. 
 The targets on which they practiced 
 and exploited their skill were flies 
 crawling on the floor, and at a 
 range of six feet or less they were pretty "sho' 
 shots." One day Clay Harper said to his mother, 
 *'Ma, Nick can't spell much, but he sho' can cipher 
 and spit." 
 
 The signal for "taking in school" was a series of 
 loud blows with a heavy stick on the shutter of a 
 door or window; and for "turning out school" the 
 master simply said, "Dismissed." When the school 
 was dismissed for the dinner recess, the students 
 seized their buckets, bottles, and baskets and rushed 
 for the campus. On hot summer days they usually 
 took their places in groups under shady tr<^s, some 
 
34 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 sitting on logs and others half reclining on the grass 
 or leaves. Without any regard for rules or ceremony, 
 they at once began to respond to the demands of 
 hunger, each family eating its own food. At first it 
 was much eating and little talking, but as the dinner 
 progressed there was less of the first and more of the 
 other. 
 
 These children of the woods had had but little 
 training in the niceties of cultured life, yet in morals 
 and manners they had a code which was not without 
 merit. For instance, while one of them was talking 
 the others were quiet and attentive. They were 
 quick to see the funny side of a situation, and there- 
 fore, as a rule, enjoyed a joke whether they were the 
 jokers or the joked. Their jokes, stories, and salHes of 
 wit were mostly of personal events, of which the 
 following are fair samples: 
 
 The boys, with few exceptions, went barefooted. 
 On one occasion John T. was lying on his back with 
 his bare feet resting on a log. "John," said one of 
 the boys, "you have the longest heels of any boy I 
 ever saw." "Why," said another, "the most of his 
 foot is behind." "Yes," drawled John, "I was 
 nearly two years old before they all knew which way 
 I was going to walk." 
 
 Henry S. was known as a "big eater," and he 
 gloried in the distinction. After "cleaning out" his 
 
A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 35 
 
 basket, about which the boys were joking him, he told 
 this story on himself: "I went to a barbecue the 
 other day, and they had a mighty sight of good grub; 
 I won't say how much I et, but this I will say, when 
 I mounted old Bedford to go home he kicked up with 
 me because he thought he was toting double." 
 
 Miss Josephine M. was a small and somewhat de- 
 formed old-young lady. She was very bright and 
 quite thorough in all her studies except arithmetic. 
 "Miss Joe," said her friend Tom, "I have often won- 
 dered what caused you to be bent and twisted up as 
 you are," referring to her deformities. "Well, I don't 
 mind telling you," said she; "I got tangled up this 
 way studying fractions in arithmetic." 
 
 However, it ill becomes one nowadays to speak 
 lightly of, or undervalue that old-time school. With 
 all its follies and excesses it had its good points and 
 served its day and time in some useful ways. In any 
 event, we should not kick the cradle that rocked us in 
 our infancy, although we may decline to lie in it again. 
 
 A Hunt, a Whir, a Rustle and a Stampede 
 
 Uncle Wash and Uncle Nathan went out early one 
 morning to hunt for a wild turkey. They reached the 
 swamp just before daybreak, the hour when all the 
 woods are still. It was the lull between the night and 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 3 
 
36 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 the day's toils and songs. The owl had hushed its 
 hooting, the frog its croaking, and the whippoorwill 
 its plaintive piping, while the sparrow, the lark and 
 the bluejay had not yet begun their morning carols. 
 A little while since, myriads of insects were droning, 
 and soon as many more would raise their humming 
 chorus. This, the darkest hour of the night, is, in 
 the woods, the calmest of the twenty-four. 
 
 On this occasion the silence was broken only by a 
 gobbler who was making the welkin ring by his 
 peculiar song, if song it be. It is probably so called 
 by those who like Turkish music! The hunters ap- 
 proached the gobbler cautiously, and stopped a 
 hundred yards or so from its position. 
 
 "Now, Nathan," said Uncle 
 Wash, "you squat down here 
 in the cane and bushes, and 
 go to yelping as clearly, 
 smoothly, and loudly as you 
 can; I will go some distance 
 towards the turkey, hide 
 myself, and await his com- 
 ing." 
 
 But Uncle Nathan was 
 scary and had a great horror 
 of being stationed in such a 
 dark and dismal place all by 
 
A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 
 
 37 
 
 himself, knowing, too, 
 that bears and other 
 fierce beasts prowled in 
 the swamp. 
 
 "Marse Wash," said 
 he, "might'n I go long 
 you and do de yel- 
 
 w 
 
 pm 
 
 J p »> 
 
 "Look here, Nathan," said 
 Uncle Wash, "if you are going 
 to be scared we might as well quit 
 right now, for no excited man can do 
 good yelping. A turkey is the hardest thing in the 
 woods to fool, and he will detect the least tremor or 
 false note in your yelping, and fly away at once. I 
 shall be only a few steps off, and nothing is going to 
 hurt you." 
 
 They took their positions; Uncle Nathan began to 
 yelp nicely; the gobbler drew nearer; and everything 
 promised well, except for the turkey. But "the 
 best laid schemes 'o mice an' men gang aft a-gley." 
 As often happens, the unexpected occurred. In a 
 very short time the stillness of the woods was changed 
 into an uproar. It all came about by another party, 
 on a similar mission, entering upon the scene. A 
 wildcat, likewise in pursuit of food, was prowling in 
 these woods, and hearing what he took to be the 
 
38 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 yelping of a turkey, he turned his attention and his 
 activities in that direction. If you have ever seen a 
 house cat creep up on a bird, you have some idea of' 
 the stealthy and crafty manner in which the great 
 woods cat advanced upon poor Uncle Nathan. 
 
 Having gone as near to its victim as it pleased, the 
 active beast leaped into the cane that screened the 
 yelper, lit on Uncle Nathan, and began some surgical 
 operations on his back. It did not take 
 Uncle Nathan long to get busy. The first 
 act of his performance was to give a yell 
 that would have done credit to a Cher- 
 okee Indian. The negro and the cat at 
 once saw their mistakes — the one in 
 coaxing and the other in assaulting the 
 wrong kind of turkey. Both were sur- 
 prised and terrified, and, as soon as they 
 could untangle themselves, they began 
 to part company. 
 
 Three distinct com- 
 motions followed Uncle 
 Nathan's yell. The first 
 was a whir up through 
 the air; this was made by 
 the gobbler as he winged 
 his flight to parts un- 
 known. The second was 
 
A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 
 
 39 
 
 a rustle down through the 
 swamp towards a cane- 
 brake; that was made by 
 the cat. The third was a 
 stampede up through the 
 swamp in the direction of the house; this was made by 
 Uncle Nathan. Uncle Wash, having heard the yell 
 and the commotion, and being an old hunter, at once 
 took in the situation, and having a keen sense of 
 humor he laughed almost as loud as the other uncle 
 had yelled. He lost the gobbler, it is true, but was 
 fully recompensed by the joy he got out of the whir, 
 the rustle, and the stampede. 
 
 There is no record as to how fast the cat ran. It 
 must have done the best it could, for it was not only 
 frightened but probably ashamed that it should have 
 mistaken a darky for a turkey. As for 
 Uncle Nathan — well, all he lacked of fly- 
 ing was that he now and then touched 
 the ground with the fore-ends of his feet. 
 It was the one time that he 
 did no grumbling or wailing; 
 the energy necessary 
 to do these was put 
 into his legs and 
 feet. These were his r^^' 
 main dependence. 
 
40 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 
 
 Of course he "trusted in de Lawd," but he did not 
 let his legs and feet know that he was so trusting. 
 In this long stampede he made but one exclamation. 
 Scaring up a rabbit he is reported to have said, *'Git 
 out de wa3^ rabbit, and let a man run what kin run." 
 
 Some time after that Uncle Wash jokingly said, 
 "Nathan, would you like to go in the woods to- 
 morrow morning and yelp up a gobbler for me.^^" 
 
 "Mars Wash," said he, "I done thro'd dat yelper 
 'way. S'pose you git Alf; he's er mulater nigger, 
 an' don't look so much like a wile turkey as a black 
 feller like me." 
 
 We shall see more of this faithful old servant in 
 the pages which follow. Suffice it here to say, he 
 was trusty in all undertakings except such as exposed 
 him to personal danger. 
 
 The subsequent careers of Uncle Wash and Nick will be re- 
 lated after the reader has been informed somewhat of the origin 
 and movements of their ancestors. It will be interesting and 
 instructive to know where these typical settlers came from, and 
 the causes and incentives which brought them into the wilds 
 of Louisiana. So the next two chapters will give a brief account 
 of the landing of the first English pioneers on the Atlantic Coast, 
 and how they pushed their way westward through the wilder- 
 ness, opening lands, founding homes, and building up this great 
 nation. After that the story of Nick will be resumed, touching 
 on his experiences in the woods and on the farm, at college and 
 in the Civil War. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 The Atlantic Slope 
 
 The Atlantic Slope is, in the main, the land which 
 is drained by the streams that flow into the Atlantic 
 Ocean. Starting at the mouth of one of the larger 
 of these streams, and following it up, one would get 
 higher and higher and finally reach the Allegheny 
 Mountains, or one of their numerous spurs. Before 
 the white people came from the ''old world" to live 
 
 41 
 
42 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 in the "new world," this slope was inhabited by In- 
 dians and wild beasts. 
 
 On April 26, 1607, Captain John Smith, with a 
 party coming over to live in the new world, reached 
 that part of the Atlantic Slope which is called Vir- 
 ginia. It was a goodly land, fertile and charmful. 
 
 Seldom did the landscape need distance to give en- 
 chantment to the view. The hills and valleys fol- 
 lowed one another in such regular and graceful un- 
 dulations that they were not unlike the stately swells 
 and heaves of the ocean after the violence of the 
 storm is spent. The Blue Ridge has many tireless 
 rivals for man's admiration. Of these are the distant 
 hills with their varying tints and the lovely valleys 
 with their carpets of green. The lark soars high in 
 the blue arch overhead, pours forth its notes of joy, 
 and seems to say, "The world is full of brightness, of 
 sweetness, and of hope." 
 
 April 26, 1607, may be remembered as the date of 
 
THE ATLANTIC SLOPE 
 
 43 
 
 the first permanent English settlement in America. 
 Few persons stop to think of the courage and heroism 
 of these English settlers. Nowadays men and 
 women cross the Atlantic in a few days, 
 making the voyage in elegant and well 
 furnished steamers, and give scarce a 
 thought to the hazard of it. Then it 
 was a journey of many weeks, in frail 
 vessels and into unknown conditions of 
 land and water. This was the situation 
 faced by Captain Smith and his fol- 
 lowers. Besides the visible perils, there 
 were untold dangers of which they knew 
 naught. Worn by the travails of 
 a long sea voyage, they began 
 life in the woods — a wilder- 
 ness so vast that i 
 could say where it 
 beginning and where 
 ending. Within 
 the range of eye 
 or ear there were 
 no signs of man's 
 abode, no wisps of 
 smoke to mark 
 the place of hut 
 or tenement, no 
 
44 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 sound of bell, no bleat of sheep, nor distant crow of 
 chanticleer to cheer the deep twilight calm. With 
 the approach of darkness came a jumble of night 
 sounds — hoots of owls, calls of whippoorwills, and 
 chantings of katydids — and against the blackness of 
 the woods flashed the fitful lights of countless fireflies. 
 But the settlers were brave and industrious. They 
 built rough cabins to live in, and opened small fields 
 and gardens in which they raised corn and vege- 
 tables. In the course of time more white people came 
 to live in this new world, building their homes near 
 the places where they landed. Thus was formed a 
 strip of settlements all along the Atlantic coast from 
 Georgia to Maine. With the increase in population 
 this strip became wider and wider, extending up the 
 Atlantic Slope and pushing the Indians and wild 
 beasts further back into the interior. The settlers 
 met with many difficulties and suffered many hard- 
 ships. They were often at war with the Indians, and 
 many of them died of disease, exposure, and want of 
 proper care or food. But toils, failures, and mis- 
 fortunes called forth new effort; the greater the labor 
 they undertook the greater always their spirit. It 
 was as if they said, "The Atlantic Slope will never 
 be abandoned by men of English descent; they have 
 come to claim it, and here will they abide to found a 
 new nation." 
 
GROWTH OF THE COLONIES 45 
 
 Growth of the Colonies 
 
 From 1607 to 1787 the number of the settlers in- 
 creased from one hundred and five persons to about 
 three milHon. This increase in population during 
 these one hundred and eighty years, however great, 
 was not so striking as the growth of the colonies in 
 other ways. Agriculture and the industries throve, 
 and trade and commerce increased. Very good roads 
 and bridges were constructed, schools and colleges 
 founded, fine churches and residences erected, and 
 systems of county and state governments organized. 
 
 The colonists enjoyed largely the blessings of civil 
 country life. Under such conditions what a wonder- 
 ful healer and teacher is the woods ! Pure air, whole- 
 some exercise, and plenty of refreshing sleep are its 
 tonics, and freedom, nature, and harmonies are its 
 lessons. There is rest in its quietude, cheer in its 
 songs, and inspiration in its scenes and activities. 
 
 While lacking in the accomplishments of life, coun- 
 try people are, as a rule, lusty and stalwart, muscular 
 and manly, and brimful of good will and hospitality. 
 "They are much like others," says Mr. Comstock, 
 "only they have the rough bark on. They are a great 
 deal more vital — the bark has, somehow, kept the 
 sap richer. The polishing takes something away." 
 "Every large city," says Dr. Eliot, "is a consuming 
 
46 
 
 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 fire in which the human race would burn itself out 
 in a few generations were it not for the fresh blood 
 it receives from the country." 
 
 Born and reared in the freedom of the air and the 
 woods, enjoying the rights of life, liberty, and the 
 pursuit of happiness, country people have always 
 been among the first to resist the sway of tyrants. 
 While their love of liberty and 
 independence sometimes runs 
 counter to the wholesome re- 
 straints of civilization, it is well 
 to remember that republics 
 have had their births in the 
 country, and ceased to be de- 
 mocracies when they lost the 
 spirit and lessons of the woods. 
 How natural that a great re- 
 public should have sprung up 
 in the free wilds of America. 
 The pioneers who invaded these 
 vast solitudes, cleared the 
 lands and tilled the soil, 
 imbibed the spirit of lib- 
 erty and the ideals of 
 freedom from all their en- 
 vironments, and it was 
 only a question of time 
 
GROWTH OF THE COLONIES 47 
 
 when they would no longer endure the yoke of 
 the kingdoms beyond the seas. In this spirit of 
 liberty and these ideals of freedom the colonists had 
 their greatest growth— a growth to which our great 
 republic is indebted for the triumphs of the past, the 
 blessings of the present, and the hopes of the 
 
 future. 
 
 A country is known and measured largely by its 
 products. Cotton and corn, horses and cattle, timber 
 and minerals are indeed valuable products; but the 
 greatest possible products of a people or a country are 
 great men and women. Measured by this rule the 
 colonists must have been a great people, for they pro- 
 duced Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, 
 Hamilton, Greene, Henry, Hancock, Madison, and 
 many others noted in civil and military life. Under 
 these leaders they fought successfully the battles of 
 the Revolutionary War. They did something even 
 greater than that— they founded the great and good 
 government under which we live. 
 
48 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 The Call of the West 
 
 When the Revolutionary War came to an end, the 
 soldiers returned to their homes and resumed the 
 pursuits of peaceful life. Many of them found their 
 farms in a sad plight. The barns were in decay, the 
 fences gone, and the fields and gardens covered with 
 bushes and briers. They had no money with which 
 to hire help or to buy the things they so much needed. 
 But "where there is a will there is a way." They had 
 the will, and the way sooner or later followed, though 
 it led through much toil and many hardships. Some 
 of them left their old farms and moved to new 
 settlements, where the soil was fresh and more 
 fertile. 
 
 Beyond the Allegheny Mountains was a vast un- 
 
THE CALL OF THE WEST 49 
 
 known wilderness stretching away toward the sun- 
 set. In it were great forests and wide plains, and 
 many rolling rivers and dense canebrakes. The In- 
 dians inhabited it, and countless buffaloes browsed 
 on the plains; bears, panthers, and wolves roamed in 
 the forests and canebrakes. Some daring men had 
 gone into these wilds and brought back wonderful 
 reports of the richness of the soil, the beauty of the 
 rivers, and the abundance and variety of the timber, 
 the fish, and the game. 
 
 These reports caused many of the settlers to turn 
 their eager eyes and souls to the west. Very soon 
 many families and companies of men and women 
 began to move across the mountains and into the 
 wilds which lay beyond. Some went in the hope 
 of gain, and some in answer to the call of the wild. 
 This love of the wild shows itself, more or less, in 
 all men and boys. There are few lads who do not 
 like to ramble in the woods, swim in the streams that 
 flow through the forests, and play Robinson Crusoe 
 on their lonely islands. 
 
 Strange, indeed, it is that anyone should prefer 
 life in the woods, with its exposures and privations, 
 to the comforts of home. Yet there are those to 
 whom the call of the wild is stronger than the love of 
 ease and comfort, or the dread of toil and hunger, or 
 the fear of disease and danger. With a few congenial 
 
50 
 
 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 friends they find delight in hunting wild beasts in 
 the trackless swamps, fishing in wildwood streams, 
 and eating coarse meals in the deep shadows of the 
 forest. Stranger still that this joy in wild scenes and 
 wild life is often greatest when danger is most threat- 
 ening and the ills most severe. 
 
 No doubt this love of the wild was implanted in 
 man for a wise purpose. To it is 
 due primarily the extension of man's 
 rule over the earth. In our own 
 country, as in many others of the 
 past, the men who answered the 
 call of the wild were the pioneers 
 of civil life. Without them vast re- 
 gions, with all their wealth of soil, 
 timber, and mines, would probably 
 have still been unknown, and wild 
 beasts would yet be roaming over fer- 
 tile tracts where corn and 
 cotton now grow. It may 
 be that the call of the 
 wild was at least a stimu- 
 lus to the explorations of 
 discoverers like Columbus 
 and Fremont, Livingston, 
 Stanley, and Roosevelt. 
 
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 
 
 51 
 
 The Westward Movement 
 
 Accustomed as we are now to good highways, auto- 
 mobiles, railroads, and steamboats, it is hard for one 
 to realize how rough was the way and meager the 
 means of traveling in the days of our forefathers. 
 In moving from the east to the west the pioneers 
 usually went in ox wagons. They carried only small 
 outfits of bedding, clothing, and utensils. Among 
 these "necessary things" were frying pans, axes, and 
 guns. For the sake of company, and for help and pro- 
 tection in time of need, two or more families gener- 
 ally moved together. Often the roads, when there 
 were any, had to be "cleared out" or causewayed. 
 Hampered in this and many other ways the prog- 
 ress was slow. With the close of day camp was 
 pitched near a spring or running branch, if possible. 
 Beds were "fixed" in the wagons for the women 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE.— 4 
 
52 
 
 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 P"'^^'?^^^^^'^ ^^^ children and 
 
 pallets made under 
 the trees for the men 
 and boys. As the 
 blackness of night 
 closed about them 
 there came many 
 dismal sounds from 
 the woods — maybe 
 the howl of a wolf, the hoot of 
 ^^ an owl, the bark of a fox, or 
 
 the yell of an Indian. 
 But with all their scanty means of 
 travel and comfort the trip was to 
 them more enjoyable than onerous. Never 
 having known of the arts and ease of modern life, 
 they did not miss the comforts or conveniences. 
 Just as a citizen of Atlanta enjoys for the first time 
 the sights of Washington, so these denizens of the 
 country were cheered and charmed by the new 
 woodland scenes that constantly opened before them. 
 Indeed, there is nothing in city life which so thrills 
 the heart of man as the wild sense of freedom which 
 the pioneer feels in the wilderness. 
 
 People spread over the West from the East by de- 
 grees. Going some distance westward they bought 
 or preempted land, built houses, and opened farms. 
 
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 
 
 53 
 
 After living on these farms for some time, maybe 
 many years, they or their children moved to places 
 still farther west, and so on, thus gradually encroach- 
 ing on the hunting ground of the red man, and con- 
 verting it into a land of homes, farms, and schools. 
 It may be worth while to note why and how this 
 change went on thus by degrees. 
 
 When the land was first cleared the virgin soil, as 
 it was called, was very fertile and produced large 
 crops of everything planted in it. But the crops fed 
 on and consumed the richness of 
 the soil just as a horse feeds on 
 and eats up corn. Much of this 
 rich soil was also washed away by 
 the rains. The method of farming 
 was a wasteful one, because little 
 was done to restore the plant food 
 which the crops took from the soil, 
 and little provision was made to 
 keep the soil from washing away; so 
 that, sooner or later, the fields being 
 pretty well worn out, the owners 
 would "sell out," and move far- 
 ther west to obtain fresh land. 
 
 All the settlers, more or less, 
 had horses, mules, cattle, and 
 hogs, and these were called stock. 
 
 '^^>»<^: 
 
54 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 In the fresh wild woods, especially during the 
 spring, summer, and fall, there was a quantity of 
 good food for the stock, such as grass, cane, acorns, 
 beechnuts, and pine masts. The woods where this 
 food abounded were called ranges. When new set- 
 tlers came along they would buy or enter a portion 
 of the land, and therefore, year by year, the ranges 
 became smaller and poorer. To procure better ones, 
 the owners would sell out and move farther west. 
 
 In the wild regions where there were but few, if 
 any, settlers, the woods abounded in deer, turkeys, 
 bears, ducks, and other kinds of animals and birds 
 that were good to eat. These were called game, and 
 in the new settlements it formed a large part of the 
 people's food. But, as the number of settlers in- 
 creased game became scarcer, and by and by, many 
 would seek a locality farther west, where it was 
 more plentiful. 
 
 To some the call of the wild was always a stimulus 
 to go west. The desire for adventure and the excite- 
 ment that attends the discovery of new wonders 
 in Nature's handiwork, appealed to them and in 
 addition to the mere joy of life in the wilds, with 
 its accompanying good health, there was also much 
 profit to be made by securing and selling the hides 
 and furs of such animals as bears, foxes, beavers, 
 otters, and minks. 
 
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 
 
 55 
 
 An Illustration of the Westward Movement 
 
 In the cemetery at Tuskegee, Alabama, there is a 
 tombstone bearing this inscription: 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 HARRIS NICHOLSON, 
 
 A REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER; 
 
 WHO WAS BORN ON THE 12tH. DAY OF MARCH, 
 
 A. D. 1760, AND DEPARTED THIS LIFE ON THE 
 
 28tH, DAY OF JUNE 1841; AGED SIyR., 3 MO., 
 
 16 DAYS. 
 
 The ancestors of this old soldier came from Scot- 
 land, and settled in the 
 Colony of Maryland. Soon 
 after the Revolutionary War, 
 Harris moved from Mary- 
 land to Virginia and thence 
 to Georgia, whether in hopes 
 of gain or in answer to the 
 call of the wild, it is not 
 known. Probably both in- 
 centives had something to do 
 
 with it. He had three sons, all born in Virginia, one 
 of whom was called James. 
 
 James did not take much to guns and hounds. His 
 activities were due far more to the hope of gain than 
 to the call of the wild. Having a business turn, and 
 
56 
 
 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 being industrious and saving, "he laid up treasures 
 on earth" until he became very well off for a pioneer 
 farmer. He had five sons, all of whom were named 
 after men noted in politics or religion; namely, Mat- 
 thew, Washington, Monroe, Absalom, and Wesley. 
 From Georgia he moved to Alabama, settling first in 
 Autauga and later in Macon County. This was be- 
 fore the Indians had been driven out of the state. 
 Near the pretty little city of Tuskegee, James Nichol- 
 son lived and died. There, by his venerable father, 
 he, his wife, and his son Wesley are buried. 
 
 It was in Alabama that Washington, the second 
 ^^ son, grew from boyhood to man- 
 
 hood. In business matters and 
 habits he was more or less like his 
 father, but very unlike him in re- 
 gard to the chase and the wilds. 
 Being a great lover of 
 the woods and all kinds 
 of field sports, he was 
 to be found in the 
 forest or swamp with 
 his gun or his fishing 
 rod when not busy 
 with work on the farm. 
 As he grew older he 
 came to be known as 
 
 
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 
 
 57 
 
 "Uncle Wash," and it is by that name that he is 
 designated in the opening chapter of these chroni- 
 cles. 
 
 During the same period there lived near Tuskegee 
 another well-to-do James, whose surname was Wafer. 
 The Wafers came originally from Ireland, and settled 
 
 in South Carolina. Now the Scotch James and the 
 Irish James were neighbors and good friends, and 
 this paved the way to friendly relations between 
 Washington and Miss Martha, the younger daughter 
 of the Irish James. W^ashington came to admire 
 Martha for her genial Irish qualities, and she him for 
 his sturdy Scotch endowments. So, in the natural 
 course of human events, they became man and wife. 
 This goodly couple, strong in body and clean in 
 
58 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 
 
 morals, were the father and mother of Nick, the hero 
 of this book. 
 
 The careers of Matthew and Monroe Nicholson, 
 brothers of Uncle Wash, furnish additional examples 
 of the westward movement. The former, Matthew, 
 early espoused the cause of the "Lone Star State," 
 and after following the fortunes of Sam Houston, 
 joined his friend Walker, the "filibuster," and died 
 in his service in Nicaragua. Monroe served under 
 General Taylor throughout the Mexican War, and 
 subsequently settled in Texas. The children of 
 these two brothers now reside in that great state.* 
 
 * To continue this illustration of the movements to the west we might 
 here run ahead of our story to say that Nick was carried in infancy to 
 Louisiana, where he grew to manhood, was married and became the 
 father of three sons. These, in the course of time, moved still farther 
 west. Two of them now live in Texas, and a short time since the third 
 was driven out of Mexico by the insurgents. 
 
 Similarly, there are countless other southern families whose sojournings 
 in the westward movement may be traced from the Potomac to the 
 Rio Grande. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 More "Elbow Room" 
 
 Although eastern Alabama at that time (1844) was 
 a comparatively new country, Uncle Wash began to 
 look about for a still newer one. Said he, "I want 
 more elbow room." He had heard much of a land 
 called Louisiana lying away beyond the great Missis- 
 sippi River. He longed to till its fertile soil, browse 
 his stock on its wide and rich ranges, and hunt the 
 wild animals in its forests and canebrakes. He 
 thought of it as "the promised land" and to that 
 far away region he resolved to go. His family at that 
 time consisted of himself, wife, and three children, 
 little Nick being the baby. 
 
 Just here we may recall a custom of "large slave 
 owners," that is, men who owned quite a number of 
 negro slaves. When a son or daughter married, the 
 " old folks " would give him or her a few negroes. The 
 child generally knew, years in advance, which of the 
 slaves these would be, and the slaves also knew. In 
 kind-hearted families, as most of the Dixie families 
 
 59 
 
60 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 were, there always sprang up a close tie between the 
 child and his or her promised negroes. Indeed, the 
 
 servants came to have 
 for their " young massa" 
 or "young missis" a pa- 
 ternal or fraternal affec- 
 tion. In dividing the 
 negroes among the 
 white children real 
 family ties were seldom 
 if ever severed, unless 
 the change was agree- 
 able to the negroes 
 themselves. 
 In accordance with this custom, Uncle Wash had 
 received from his father and his wife's father, both 
 of whom were then living, the following negroes: 
 Uncle Nathan and his wife (Aunt Jane), Aunt Kitty 
 and her daughter Mary (the house girl), Claricy (a 
 woman), and Caroline (Nick's nurse). 
 
 There were, at that time, two usual routes of 
 travel from Alabama to Louisiana: First, the "over- 
 land route" which was traveled in wagons, and led 
 through the state of Mississippi and across the great 
 swamp of the "Father of Waters" and that river 
 itself at Vicksburg, Rodney, or Natchez; second, 
 the "water route" which was more comfortable, by 
 
OFF FOR LOUISIANA 61 
 
 the way of Mobile and New Orleans. Movers hav- 
 ing a large number of negroes and much stock often 
 sent them by the first route and took their families 
 by the second. Uncle Wash took his family and his 
 slaves by the water route. 
 
 Off for Louisiana 
 
 "Good-by! Good-by!" was uttered many times in 
 sorrow and in tears, as Uncle Wash and his party 
 seated themselves in the wagons which were to 
 carry them from Tuskegee to Montgomery; and for 
 some distance a shadow of sadness hovered over 
 them. But it was a bright September morning, and 
 all the landscape was brilliant with sunshine. Here 
 and there the country was threaded with little 
 streams whose rippling waters inspired hope and 
 gladness. These cheering scenes tended to lighten 
 the hearts and brighten the eyes of the movers. 
 
 At Montgomery they took a boat, went down the 
 Alabama River to Mobile, and thence across the gulf 
 to New Orleans. For the first time in their lives they 
 were out of sight of land. Aunt Martha amused her- 
 self by watching the "servants"; she never called 
 them slaves or negroes. Uncle Wash also enjoj^ed 
 seeing them "see things," though he pretended not to 
 notice it. He smiled when Nathan, standing on the 
 
62 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 bow of the vessel and looking all around to where 
 the sky and sea seemed to come together, said, 
 
 "It sho' do look like 
 
 we'se in er kind er 
 low place wi' high 
 Ian' all roim' us." 
 
 At one time the 
 boat was tossed by a 
 great wave just as 
 Aunt Kitty was cross- 
 ing the deck. She 
 slipped and fell with 
 such a crash as to jar the boat and startle the pas- 
 sengers. This time Uncle Wash laughed outright, 
 and so did every one present except Aunt Martha, 
 who rushed to the fallen one, helped her up, and as- 
 sisted her to her couch. After that, no coaxing could 
 induce Aunt Kitty to leave the safest retreat she 
 could find. Aunt Martha visited the servants to see 
 how they were getting along, and finding Aunt Jane 
 pacldng away some food said, "Jane, what are you 
 doing?" 
 
 "Miss Marfy, I'se been fro win' up dreadful, and 
 Nathan he 'lowed I had de sea complaint; so I'se des 
 puttin' up a little vi'tals to eat when us come to de 
 udder side." 
 
 They landed at Milneburg, and from there went 
 
OFF FOR LOUISIANA 
 
 on "The Pontchartrain Railroad" to the city of New 
 Orleans, a distance of about 
 said to be the second 
 oldest railroad i n 
 America. At that 
 time there were three 
 others in the state 
 nearly as old; viz., 
 one from New Or- 
 leans to Carrollton, 
 one from Port Hud- 
 son to Clinton, and 
 one from Bayou Sara 
 to Woodville, Mississippi. Surely the people living 
 in this section at that time nmst have been progres- 
 sive and more or less wealthy. 
 
 At one time on the way Uncle Nathan was gazing 
 intently out of a window, just as the train was flying 
 by a field in which the rows were at right angles to 
 the track. 
 
 "Nathan," said Aunt Jane, " what is yer starin' 
 at so out'n dat winder.'^" 
 
 "Dem rows," said Nathan, "sho do look like de 
 spokes of a big wheel all turnin' roun' a hub way out 
 yon'er in de woods." 
 
 When the train stopped and the party alighted, 
 Claricy said, "Dat sho' do beat me." 
 
64 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 "What yer talkin' 'bout now, nigger?" asked Uncle 
 Nathan. 
 
 "Why, God-er-mighty, man," said Claricy, "I 
 didn't mor'n git on dat sof seat 'fore I had to git 
 out." 
 
 New Orleans Then and Now 
 
 New Orleans was then a small place in comparison 
 with what it is now. The principal business streets 
 at that time were Royal and Chartres, and the main 
 residence street was Esplanade. The city did not 
 extend much above Canal Street. What is now called 
 Howard Avenue was the boundary of the suburbs, 
 and all beyond that, away up to Carrollton, was 
 woods. The railroad from New Orleans to Carroll- 
 ton went through these woods, and the roadbed of 
 that old railway is now largely the beautiful St. 
 Charles Avenue. The depot was on the lot now oc- 
 cupied by the public library. 
 
 New Orleans was founded by the French in 1718, 
 and in the course of time more and more people 
 came from France to make their homes there. Among 
 these were members of many of the oldest, wealthiest, 
 and most cultured families of Paris. Thus this lead- 
 ing city of Dixie, in the social, industrial, and com- 
 mercial habits of its citizens, and in the style of its 
 private and public buildings, became the Paris of the 
 
NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 
 
 65 
 
 new world. After a while the English-speaking peo- 
 ple began to settle in the place. They moved in 
 slowly at first, but after about 1845 they poured in at 
 a rapid rate. They settled mostly in, and built up, 
 that part of the city lying above Canal Street. Thus 
 Canal became the central street, and on and across 
 this great broadway played the forces which made 
 New Orleans the charming French-English city that 
 it is. Its population is unique in that it is more or 
 less a cross between the sturdy and thrifty Scotch- 
 
66 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 English and the artistic and chivalrous French. We 
 may say of them what Macaulay said of the Irish: 
 "They have the qualities which make people inter- 
 esting rather than prosperous." And this is no bad 
 thing to say about anybody. As a commendation it 
 is better than the reverse, though it may not be so 
 regarded by some in this money-loving age. 
 
 However, as stated by Mark Twain, "New Orleans 
 is outfitted with progressive men — thinking, saga- 
 cious, long-headed men." In the face of adverse in- 
 dustrial and economic changes wrought by the Civil 
 War, the city has had a steady growth in population 
 and material prosperity. It has met its problems in 
 sanitation, economics, and education bravely and 
 skillfully. The bank deposits and clearances bear 
 testimony to its financial welfare; and artistic and 
 noble public buildings bespeak its civic pride and 
 elegant discernment. Nowhere are parks more in- 
 viting and restful, nor works of art more varied and 
 attractive. Throughout the city are numerous 
 homes, both palatial and humble, that tell their own 
 story of taste and comfort and hospitality. Few- 
 cities have more efficient public schools, and fewer 
 still enjoy the advantages and blessings of a great 
 university like Tulane. 
 
 In the meantime, New Orleans has not forgotten 
 that: 
 
NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 
 
 67 
 
 'We may live without poetry, music and art; 
 We may live without conscience, and live without heart; 
 We may live without friends; we may live without books; 
 But civilized man cannot live without cooks." 
 
 The traveling public may be unmindful of the 
 city's great buildings and parks, but of its cuisine 
 never. Nowhere has coffee a more delightful 
 aroma or meat a more savory flavor. No less noted 
 are the New Orleans oysters — renowned alike for 
 their abundance and their quality. The festive 
 board with its viands and good cheer has played 
 an important role in the life of this city of Dixie; 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE.— 5 
 
68 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 and the many bright and generous things which have 
 been said and done there are largely responsible for 
 the reputed "qualities which make the people more 
 interesting than prosperous." 
 
 Uncle Wash and his party stopped at the St. 
 Charles, which was said to be 
 "the handsomest hotel, not 
 only in the United States, but 
 in the world." Before going 
 to dinner Aunt Martha said to 
 her husband, 
 
 "Now, my dear, you must re- 
 member not to eat with your 
 knife, nor pick your teeth at the 
 table; and be sure to sip your 
 soup quietly from the side of 
 your spoon." 
 
 Of course he had been taught 
 these things at home from child- 
 hood, but life in the woods had 
 made him careless 
 about, and almost 
 indifferent to, these 
 ^ "highfalutin' man- 
 ners." A hint that 
 his manners were 
 not first class net- 
 
NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 69 
 
 tied him, and he pretended to know exactly what to 
 do without being told by anybody. 
 
 "I'll do the best I can," said he rather sullenly, 
 "but I tell you now, it will be precious little soup that 
 I'll get if I have to sip it from the side of a spoon. I 
 call that tomfoolery." 
 
 Like most country people they thought when they 
 entered the dining hall that all eyes were centered on 
 them. This put Uncle Wash on his best behavior; 
 so he watched Aunt Martha on the sly, and by fol- 
 lowing her lead, was proud to think that his conduct 
 had been such as to show those city folks that "he 
 knew a thing or two" himself. 
 
 After dinner they stood on the beautiful veranda 
 of the hotel, and looked out over the city. In the 
 street below them people and vehicles of man}^ de- 
 scriptions moved hither and thither, and beyond lay 
 blocks of massive buildings following each other in 
 endless perspective. The noise of it all rose and fell 
 like the roar of the sea about them. How different 
 was this sound from that of the woods. Here it was 
 as the roar of battle — sharp, harsh, and discordant. 
 In the woods the countless voices of nature produce 
 no discords; the country is never out of tune with 
 itself. "Its music is one vast elemental chord and 
 has been the same for all time." 
 
 They spent the afternoon in "seeing the sights." 
 
70 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 Of course they went to the French Market, and the 
 many interesting and curious things they saw and 
 heard there gave them something 
 to talk about for many a day to 
 come. Among other places and 
 things they saw were the mint, 
 where silver dollars were being 
 coined; the ships, with their tall 
 masts and fine cabins; the bird 
 stores, where many kinds of 
 pretty birds were for sale; and 
 the St. Louis Hotel, with its ball- 
 rooms "unequaled in the United 
 States for size and beauty." 
 Aunt Martha, always thoughtful of the children 
 and servants, took them with her to all these places, 
 not only for their amusement and instruction, but for 
 the pleasure she derived from their droll and witty 
 comments on the things they saw and heard. At the 
 French Market, Uncle Nathan, looking at some tawny 
 foreigners, said, "For de life er me I don't see how 
 dey tells de white folks from de niggers down here." 
 An Italian was vending fruit and speaking loudly and 
 rather musically in a jumble of the English and Italian 
 languages. Nathan gazed at him as if looking at a 
 clown in a circus, and said, "Dat must be sum kin' er 
 corn song he singin'." Aunt Kitty, who could not 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 71 
 
 see very well, ran against a metallic statue of an In- 
 dian used in advertising cigars. She hustled around it 
 in a hurry, exclaiming, "I run'd smack into dat gent'- 
 man; I wonder what he standin' out dar like dat fur? 
 Dey sho' do have sum po' white trash down here!" 
 Never was a trip more thoroughly enjoyed by all, 
 white and black; and I doubt not that all rejoiced in 
 the thought that they had now added to their list of 
 sights many things that others had not seen. 
 
 Up the Red River 
 
 The next day a flag was flying from the jack staff 
 of a Red River boat, and also a smaller one from the 
 verge staff astern. This signified that the boat would 
 leave that day. The usual time of departure was 
 5 o'clock, p. M. As that time drew nearer things 
 became more lively about the boat; quantities of 
 barrels and boxes were rushed across the levee, on 
 to the stage-planks, and aboard the steamer. In the 
 midst of this hurly-burly the passengers made their 
 way to the boat as best they could, many of them 
 carrying one or more huge packages. To our little 
 company, it all looked like a drove of hustling ants 
 almost covered by their big burdens of plunder. 
 Among other things Uncle Wash had a basket of 
 fishing tackle, and a new double-barreled shotgun 
 
72 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 ^ 
 
 — -, 
 
 f 
 
 / 
 
 ^_^^ 
 
 -^^ J 
 
 i 
 
 ' 1 
 
 J 
 
 
 tj 
 
 Hi 
 
 guaranteed "to shoot buckshot through an inch- 
 plank at a distance of one hundred yards." 
 
 Great masses 
 -.^^ of black smoke 
 ^j rose from the tall 
 j chimneys and 
 ^ drifted like 
 clouds over the 
 #s=^^^^RJ ^:^.;^^^^ city. 
 
 ' " " ^ - f -i:^-^ ' - By and by the 
 
 throttle valve of the powerful engine was opened, 
 the great driving wheel began to turn, and the 
 vessel glided backward into the deep water. Soon 
 she made a graceful swing, and with her prow 
 pointed up stream, began her journey on the Father 
 of Waters. 
 
 By the time the boat was fairly under way the pas- 
 sengers had secured their staterooms, and found com- 
 fortable seats on the open promenade deck over- 
 looking the river and the city. All eyes were strained 
 to catch the many changing scenes of land and w^ater. 
 Invigorated by the fresh air and charmed by the 
 glorious sights, every heart thrilled with joy and 
 every eye beamed with delight. For the time being, 
 troubles, pains, and anxieties were forgotten, the 
 puny becoming well and the old young. 
 
 But there was another scene on the after deck that 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 73 
 
 is worthy of notice. In that quiet place three con- 
 genial spirits formed a little coterie of their own. 
 How soon *' birds of a feather flock together." Crea- 
 tures ''of a kind" are drawn together by a power as 
 invisible and as certain as the force of gravity. Of no 
 other kind is this more true than of hunters and fisher- 
 men. Each of these three was exploiting the merits 
 of his new double-barreled shotgun. Uncle Wash 
 told what his "Mary Ann" was guaranteed to do. 
 "From what the fellow told me about my * Nancy 
 Jane,' " said Mr. A., "she's going to kill 'em so high 
 up they'll spoil before they hit the ground." "That's 
 nothing," said Mr. B., "I am fearing that 'Martha 
 Washington' is going to kill 'em so dead they won't 
 fall." 
 
 In 1827 Mrs. Trollope wrote: "The unbroken flat- 
 ness of the banks of the Mississippi continued un- 
 varied for many miles above New Orleans; but the 
 graceful and luxuriant palmetto, the dark and noble 
 ilex, and the bright orange were everywhere to be 
 seen, and it was many days before we were weary of 
 looking at them." 
 
 In the same year Captain Basil Hall wrote: "The 
 district of country which lies adjacent to the Missis- 
 sippi, in the lower parts of Louisiana, is everywhere 
 thickly peopled by sugar planters, whose showy 
 houses, gay piazzas, trig gardens, and numerous slave 
 
74 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 villages, all clean and neat, gave an exceedingly 
 thriving air to the river scenery." 
 
 "From New Orleans to Baton Rouge," wrote 
 Mark Twain in 1882, "the great sugar plantations 
 border both sides of the river all the way, and stretch 
 their league-wide levels back to the dim forest walls 
 of bearded cypress in the rear. A most homelike and 
 happy-looking region. And now and then you see a 
 pillared and porticoed great manor- 
 house embowered in trees." "But," he 
 continues, "the trigness of it all has 
 passed away. The whitewash is gone 
 from the negro cabins now; and many, 
 possibly most, of the big mansions, 
 once so shining white, have worn out 
 their paint and have a decayed 
 and neglected look. It is the 
 blight of war." 
 
 Most of the people 
 living alongside of the 
 river were French. 
 Indeed South Louisi- 
 ana (all that part ly- 
 ing south of the 
 mouth of Red River) 
 was settled largely 
 by French emigrants 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 75 
 
 from Acadia and France, and most of the present 
 inhabitants of that section are of French descent. 
 These Creoles, as they are called, are kind, polite and 
 industrious, and among them are some of the richest 
 men in the state. By their high ideals and courtly 
 bearing many of them show that the blue blood of 
 the old French aristocracy flows in their veins. 
 They have furnished many of the leaders of Dixie in 
 civil and military life, among whom were Audubon, 
 the naturalist; Gayarre and Fortier, the historians; 
 Beauregard, the general and engineer; and Paul 
 Morphy, possibly the greatest chess player of all 
 times. One of their number, Alexander Mouton, 
 was then (1844) governor of the state. He had be- 
 fore that represented Louisiana in the United States 
 Senate, and while he was residing in Washington the 
 celebrated sculptor Powers carved "The Greek 
 Slave." In selecting a model hand for this famous 
 statue he is said to have chosen that of Mrs. Mouton, 
 who was noted alike for the beauty of her face and 
 the symmetry of her form. 
 
 The next morning our boat reached Baton Rouge, 
 one hundred and thirty miles from New Orleans. 
 Here is the first highland — a beautiful bluff country 
 fifty-five feet above sea level, and twelve feet above 
 the highest overflow ever known in the Mississippi 
 Valley. '* There was a tropical sun overhead and a 
 
76 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 tropical swelter in the air," yet it is never so hot or 
 so cold as in places much farther north. In the dark 
 green woods are countless magnolias, whose flowers 
 are seldom surpassed for size, beauty or fragrance. 
 These fertile bluflf lands, rising and sinking in grace- 
 ful curves, well- wooded and well-watered, the home 
 of sunshine, birds and flowers, appear to have been 
 in no way slighted in their making. Baton Rouge 
 was then a sleepy village; now it is a brisk city 
 of 23,000 souls, the capital of the state, and the site 
 of the Louisiana State University. 
 
 Twenty miles above Baton Rouge is Port Hudson, 
 a place of historic interest and modern unimpor- 
 tance. Just as the alluvial lands on the east bank give 
 way to the bluffs at Baton Rouge, so here at Port 
 Hudson the bluffs give place to the hills. These 
 high hills, overlooking the river, were the scenes of 
 some severe conflicts in the Civil War. One of 
 these was the night battle between Farragut's fleet 
 and the Confederate land batteries, April 14, 1863.* 
 
 * Nick was there on the memorable night of April 14th, but, being 
 sergeant of the guard, was in a place of comparative safety — the hot 
 balls and lighted bombs passed mostly over his head. While the superb 
 pyrotechnic display was in operation, he wrote the following parody on 
 an old hymn: 
 
 When I can see a blazing bomb 
 
 Come whizzing through the sky, 
 
 I bid farewell to every fear 
 
 As round a stump I fly. 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 
 
 77 
 
 This landscape was the first to remind Aunt 
 Martha of the hills about her old Georgia home. 
 With Nick in her arms, 
 
 a tear stole down her 
 cheek as the scene 
 awakened in her mem- 
 ories of loved ones far 
 away. How fortunate 
 she did not then know 
 that that baby boy, 
 eighteen years there- 
 after, would be on 
 that very spot to take 
 part in one of the most terrific struggles of modern 
 times.* 
 
 Fifty miles above Port Hudson the Red River 
 pours its reddish w^ater into the Mississippi, and this 
 tributary, forty miles above its mouth, receives the 
 dark blue waters of the Ouachita. These two rivers. 
 Red and Ouachita, recede from one another north- 
 ward and cross the north boundary of the state more 
 than a hundred miles apart. That part of Louisiana 
 lying between these two rivers is what we call *' North 
 Central Louisiana." It comprises about one-fifth of 
 
 * At Jackson, La., which is about twelve miles from Port Hudson, was 
 Centenary College, a splendid and noted institution before the Civil 
 War. It is now located in Shreveport. 
 
78 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 the state, is a high upland region, and is well tim- 
 bered; and through it flow numberless branches and 
 creeks of clear sweet water. Many of these streams 
 rise in Claiborne Parish, which is adjacent to Arkan- 
 sas and on the dividing ridge between the two bor- 
 dering rivers. 
 
 The most fertile lands in the state are the valleys of 
 its great rivers, and it may seem queer that the set- 
 tlers (English) from the older states did not secure 
 places in these richer districts. That they did not do 
 so, as a rule, is due to two causes: (1) they naturally 
 sought a country more or less like that from which 
 they came, and this they found in North-Central 
 Louisiana, with its hills and valleys, clear running 
 streams, and springs or wells of pure water; (2) they 
 feared the river lands would not be healthful. While 
 the highlands were not as fertile as the lowlands, 
 they had a rich virgin soil and many beautiful and 
 productive upland valleys. Here was the promise of 
 health, pleasure, and at least a plenty of products. 
 
 Uncle W^ash's objective point was some place in 
 Claiborne Parish, and his route lay up the Red River 
 to Shreveport, and thence sixty miles east by wagons 
 into the very heart of "the promised land." Landing 
 at Shreveport, which was then a small town, he 
 pitched camp on the spot (then in the woods) where 
 the Majestic Theater now stands. 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 
 
 79 
 
 From the very first, Shreveport has had all the ac- 
 cessories necessary to a steady and healthy growth. 
 It lies at the head of navigation on the Red River, is 
 the center of a most fertile region, was a frontier sup- 
 ply point for eastern Texas (then Mexico), and later 
 became the beneficiary of immense oil beds and the 
 largest gas field in America. Fortunately its citizens 
 have had the patriotism and the good business judg- 
 ment to make the best use of their superb opportuni- 
 ties. From a small pioneer village of two or three 
 stores, as Nick first saw the place, it has expanded 
 into a magnificent city of 35,000 
 population, having ninety-five in- 
 dustries and seventy-five wholesale 
 houses, forty-two miles of paved 
 streets, eleven million dollars of 
 bank deposits and eleven lines of 
 railroads, together with public 
 buildings, churches, 
 and schoolhouses un 
 surpassed in architec 
 ture and equipments 
 
80 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 Uncle Wash, having secured the necessary teams 
 and wagons, crossed the Red River and started east 
 on the "home stretch" of the long journey. He soon 
 discovered that the road in the swamp was unlike 
 any he had seen in the older states. As the wagon 
 and oxen sank deep into the soft red mud, Uncle 
 Nathan remarked, "Dis road don't 'pear to have no 
 bottom." The swamp of the Red River is about ten 
 miles wide, and was then almost impassable on ac- 
 count of the many bogs and unbridged sloughs. 
 These places, according to a saying of the settlers, 
 "would bog the shadow of a buzzard." But the in- 
 stant the situation became strenuous. Uncle Wash 
 became alert and settled into the grim reserve that 
 characterizes the man who takes any enterprise se- 
 riously, be it work or play. 
 
 The whole day was occupied in crossing the 
 swamp. Just as the sun was setting, the travelers, 
 wet, tired, muddy and hungry, reached the piny up- 
 lands which form the eastern boundary of the great 
 valley. Here they went into camp, and began at 
 once to "clean up" and "dry up" — ridding the stock 
 and wagon of mud and themselves of wet and muddy 
 clothes. This "task of ablution and abstersion" be- 
 ing performed, and a frugal but hearty meal eaten. 
 Uncle Wash stretched himself out on his improvised 
 bed of cane tops and blankets. 
 
UP THE RED RIVER 
 
 81 
 
 "My dear," said Aunt Martha, "you have cer- 
 tainly earned a night's repose. Your day's work has 
 been hard and steady, and few could have managed 
 it all so well." 
 
 "Martha," he answered, "often the only, and al- 
 ways the surest, way of doing a thing is by plugging 
 away at it. That's my principle in life. Keep at it. 
 In work, as in hunting, that's the way to win. True, 
 the wav is hard, but overcoming difficulties is the 
 
82 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 
 
 glorious part of it. If success comes easy, we care but 
 little for it; if it comes hard, we never forget the ways 
 and means. I believe the real value of a thing to 
 anyone is to be measured by the labor and skill it 
 cost that one to get it." 
 
 Early the next morning the party moved on into 
 the dense woods. What there was of road, though 
 narrow and rough, was at least firm, a quality of the 
 soil that is always appreciated by the traveler, espe- 
 cially just after crossing a "bottomless swamp." 
 Thirty miles from Shreveport they crossed the Bayou 
 Dorchete, which in season is navigable up to Min- 
 den. Beyond this stream the surface of the land was 
 more elevated and undulating, having an average 
 altitude of 200 feet above sea level and countless hills 
 and valleys running in every direction. 
 
 Far in the interior of North-Central Louisiana is 
 a pretty little stream, called Parker's Creek. On the 
 banks of this perennially flowing streamlet a pioneer 
 had made a settlement consisting of a few cabins and 
 a field of twenty acres. Desiring to move farther 
 west so as to get "more elbow room," he "sold out" 
 to Uncle Wash, who took immediate possession. 
 With the cabins renovated and enlarged and more 
 land opened. Uncle Wash stayed here two years 
 and then moved to a new and better place, as de- 
 scribed in the opening chapter of this book. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 Uncle Wash Moves from Cane Ridge 
 
 Early in the year 1853 Uncle Wash moved to a 
 place some fifteen miles west of Cane Ridge. His 
 main object was to get in a neighborhood which gave 
 promise of maintaining a good school. Nick, now in 
 his ninth year, went with Aunt Kitty in the ox wagon, 
 of which Uncle Nathan was the driver. The rest of 
 the party, having faster teams, went on ahead. Nick 
 had Step, the fice, with him. 
 
 The boy was wild with joy, thrilled with visions 
 of coming scenes and events. Nothing along the way 
 escaped his notice. Here and there were branches 
 whose clear water flowed over pretty pebbles with a 
 sweet murmur. A hornet's nest, shaped like a water- 
 melon, hung from the limb of an oak, and away up in 
 the top of a tall pine an eagle's nest looked grand and 
 lonely. In the bark of many beech trees were long 
 scratches made by bears in climbing for beechnuts. 
 Now and then Aunt Kitty gave Nick a ginger-cake 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — G 83 
 
84 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 smeared with jam. They stopped to get some water 
 at the Sulphur Springs, and Aunt Kitty remembered 
 this as the place where old Bee, the buggy mule, once 
 got into a yellow jacket's nest. 
 
 Nick often got out of the wagon and played with 
 Step along the road. Now and then a rabbit sprang 
 out of its hiding place and Step chased it off into the 
 woods. At one time Step set up a furious barking in 
 the bushes near the road, and all hands went to see 
 what it was about. Step had found an enemy and 
 looked as if he was about to charge it, but he was 
 very careful to keep at a safe distance from the ob- 
 ject of his wrath. It was a monster rattlesnake, as 
 large around as a man's arm, wound into a great 
 coil, and making a hideous noise with its rattles as if 
 warning everybody to keep away. Uncle Nathan 
 killed it with a stick. There were eighteen rattles 
 on the end of its tail, which showed, according to the 
 settler's rule, that it was eighteen years old. 
 
 Here and there new settlements were to be seen. 
 People were then moving into North-Central Louis- 
 iana at a rapid rate. They came mostly from Ala- 
 bama and Georgia, but there were many from all the 
 Southern states, and a few from the North. These 
 new settlers were active, pushing people, as settlers 
 usually are. That they have a purpose to better their 
 condition, and the industry necessary to undertake it, 
 
UNCLE WASH MOVES 85 
 
 is shown by their very presence in the vanguard of 
 civihzation. 
 
 The long stillness of the woods was being broken 
 by the hum of in- 
 dustry; the merry 
 song of the ham- 
 mer and the sweet 
 , rasp of the saw, 
 mingled with the 
 cheering crow of 
 the rooster and the stirring "gee" and "haw" of 
 the plowman. The smoke from burning logs and 
 brush hovered over the "new-grounds," and the 
 air was redolent with the odor of fresh burnt woods. 
 The ax and the maul, the hoe and the plow, were 
 invading the dominion of bears and panthers, wolves 
 and catamounts. Indeed, these wild animals had al- 
 most disappeared; only a few straggling ones could 
 be seen now and then. 
 
 Among other things that had disappeared were wild 
 pigeons. While Uncle Wash was living at Cane Ridge 
 they came annually, sometimes appearing in droves 
 of thousands. Nick often saw flocks of them so large 
 as to darken the heavens like great black clouds. 
 They roosted at night on bushes, and kept up such a 
 clamor that they could be heard a mile or more. Near 
 the road was a grove of very crooked pine trees. 
 
86 
 
 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 'OOS 
 
 Pointing to it Unele Nathan 
 said, ''Dat was once a pigin 
 ; de pigins bent 'em up 
 dat way roos'in on 'em 
 when dey was pine 
 bushes." 
 
 In those days there 
 were many violent 
 storms in that 
 ^_^^ section, the 
 wrecks of which 
 are still to be seen in many places. Early in the af- 
 ternoon Nathan, looking up into the skies, said: '.'I 
 do b'leve we's gwine to have a storm." Sure enough, 
 after a while, dark clouds began to roll over their 
 heads; then came flashes of lightning and distant 
 peals of thunder. Even the oxen seemed to know 
 that a storm was coming, for they struck a quicker 
 gait, as if wishing to get out of the tall timber as 
 soon as they could. 
 
 The storm was just bursting upon them as they 
 reached the new settlement of Mr. McClendon. He 
 saw the wagon coming, and running to it as fast as 
 he could he told Nathan to drive the team into an 
 open place just ahead, grasped Nick with one hand 
 and Aunt Kitty with the other, and ran to a stout 
 log cabin that was occupied by his family. His larger 
 
UNCLE WASH MOVES 87 
 
 log residence was not then finished. Everybody was 
 soon huddled in the cabin. As the storm grew in 
 uproar and vehemence, all became more frightened. 
 It is queer that people who are ordinarily fearless will 
 cower and tremble in the presence of a storm. In their 
 eagerness to get into the safest place possible the men 
 made an opening in the floor by removing two punch- 
 eons, and through this opening all hands, white and 
 black, went under the house. The storm raged and 
 roared. It was hard to tell which was the louder, the 
 howl of the winds or the roar of the thunder. 
 
 Ahtr a while the storm passed away, leaving be- 
 hind it a wide area of blown-down trees. Had the 
 cabin been in the main path, it would have been 
 swept away. Fortunately no one was hurt, but the 
 place was almost hemmed in by fallen timber. Mr. 
 McClendon at once sent a runner to inform Uncle 
 Wash that "the folks, team, and wagon were all 
 right." Such was the kindness with which the settlers 
 treated one another, especially in time of trouble or 
 sickness. 
 
 xAfter the storm, for some distance the wagon made 
 slow progress, because Uncle Nathan often had to 
 stop to clear the road of logs and tree-tops. Late 
 in the afternoon they passed the home of Mr. Tippit, 
 and there Nick saw two things he never saw before: 
 brick chimneys and glass windows. 
 
88 
 
 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 Progressive Develop- 
 ment 
 
 They reached their 
 new home after dark. 
 Uncle Wash had been 
 there the year before 
 and built several of the necessary houses. They 
 were not finished except as to walls, roofs, and 
 floors. It was too late to put up beds; so all slept 
 on mattresses laid on the floors, and being tired, they 
 slept soundly. Uncle Wash woke them early the 
 next morning, for he knew there was much to be 
 done. 
 
 The residence was an eight-room house, having 
 brick chimneys and glass windows, a wide hall, and 
 a wide gallery in front. The other buildings and 
 appurtenances, — kitchen, dairy, pantry, smokehouse, 
 negro quarters, shops, ginhouse, cotton press, garden, 
 
PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 89 
 
 barns, horse lot, stalls, cow pen, and fields — were 
 located according to a systematic plan. The three 
 main objects of this orderly arrangement were con- 
 venience, cleanliness, and attractiveness. The negro 
 quarters consisted of two long rows of comfortable 
 cabins separated by a "street" two hundred and fifty 
 feet wide. The "big house" was at one end of this 
 street and the shops at the other. 
 
 The number of negroes had very much increased. 
 Some of the new ones had been bought, but the most 
 of them came from the estate of Uncle Wash's 
 father. Among these latter was old Uncle Jack, the 
 first negro ever owned by Nick's grandfather. 
 
 "Martha," said Uncle Wash to his wife at the 
 breakfast table, "I know the houses are not finished, 
 but they have good roofs and will do to live in for a 
 while. The main work to be done is clearing the land 
 and raising a crop. So I'm going to put all hands to 
 doing this work." 
 
 "Now, dear," replied Aunt Martha, "that is all 
 right if you will let me have Uncle Jack. With him, 
 Kittie, Caroline, Mary and the boys (her sons Mat, 
 Nick, and Tate), I can begin to put things in order 
 about the house, dairy, kitchen, and smokehouse." 
 
 "That can be done for the present," said Uncle 
 Wash, "but I will soon need the boys to work with 
 the 'trash gang.'" 
 
90 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 Anyone, male or female, who did full work on the 
 farm was called a "hand." But there was always 
 certain light work that the children could do, and the 
 boys and girls so assigned formed what was called the 
 "trash gang." 
 
 So Aunt Martha began work indoors with the 
 "house gang," and Uncle Wash outdoors with the 
 hands and the "trash gang." 
 
 Uncle Wash believed in making his sons work. At 
 every stage of their growth, when they were not in 
 school, tasks were assigned them regularly in the fields 
 and shops. His chief object was to school them in use- 
 ful ways and habits. In common with thousands he 
 thought that most of the best and greatest men in 
 this world have toiled at the workbench and plow. 
 
 Few people know how much hard work it takes to 
 change a heavy-timbered tract of land into a complete 
 field. The way Uncle Wash had it done was, briefly, 
 as follows : 
 
 1. Deaden all the large timber with axes. 
 
 2. Cut the logs into ten-foot pieces, and roll the 
 pieces into "log heaps." 
 
 3. Cut down all the bushes and saplings, trim up 
 the larger ones, and pile the poles and brush into 
 "brush-heaps." 
 
 4. Burn the log-heaps and brush-heaps as soon as 
 possible. 
 
PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 
 
 91 
 
 5. Cut rail timber, split it into rails, and 
 build a worm fence around the field. Wire 
 fences were not then in existence. V|^ 
 
 6. Plow the ground thoroughly, using -jf^ 
 "colters" at the first plowing to cut 
 the roots. 
 
 Not many landscapes are more un- 
 sightly than a *' new-ground" just after 
 its first plowing. In the midst of 
 stumps and deadened trees, and 
 tangles of roots 
 and briers, 
 clods and frag- 
 ments of up- 
 turned turf be- - - 
 strew the earth 
 
 not unlike molten rocks in a desert plain, 
 best a discouraging prospect. 
 
 One day as they were looking over the rough 
 and ragged scene, Aunt Martha said to Uncle Wash, 
 "After all that has been done, how much more hard 
 work it will take to put this in a tillable state. It is 
 enough to dishearten one. I don't see how you can 
 be so cheerful about it." 
 
 "Martha," answered he, "I have not much educa- 
 tion, but I do know that everything in this world 
 that's worth while comes by hard work. If we keep 
 
 It is at 
 
92 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 plugging away at it, success will come after a while. 
 In the meantime, it looks like nature comes in to help 
 us. We will be helped by the winds in felling these 
 trees, by decay in destroying these roots and stumps, 
 and by the sun and rain in pulverizing these clods." 
 
 Uncle Wash often illustrated a point with a story. 
 So now he said, 
 
 "I think there is a fine moral in the old story about 
 Uncle Zeke. Having been asked if his prayers were 
 ever answered, he replied, 'It's owin' to de natur of 
 de pertition. You see it's like dis: when I prays to de 
 Lawd to send me one of de boss's fat chickens, de 
 chicken don't come; but when I prays to de Lawd to 
 send me atter de chicken, de chicken is sho to git 
 dar fo' day.' 
 
 "That is," said Uncle Wash, "the Lord helps those 
 who do most of the work themselves." 
 
 A mile west of Uncle Wash's new place was the 
 beginning of a little village, called Forest Grove. It 
 began with a schoolhouse and a store, the post office 
 being located in the latter. In a few years it be- 
 came the center of a prosperous neighborhood, and in 
 the meantime a large church, and wood and black- 
 smith shops were added. 
 
 The land in this section was more or less level, just 
 hilly and rolling enough to afford good drainage. 
 Many clear running branches flowed through it, and 
 
PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 93 
 
 these, coming together, formed beautiful creeks. 
 The land was easily tilled, and on it a variety of 
 crops could be grown. In a few ^-ears many well-to- 
 do farmers settled in the community. They raised 
 cotton chiefly, but also enough corn, oats, potatoes, 
 and meat for home use. They were kind and polite 
 to guests and strangers. No one passing through the 
 country, whether rich or poor, was charged anything 
 for a night's entertainment. 
 
 To show how little the men and boys knew or 
 cared for fashion, a funny incident may be related 
 here. When Uncle Wash lived at Cane Ridge he and 
 Dr. Kidd had a little store, and on severing the part- 
 nership each took half of the goods. Uncle Wash 
 thus came to have three silk hats. 
 
 Failing to sell these *' two-story" hats, and see- 
 ing that no one desired them, he said to his wife, 
 ''Martha, the boys need new Sunday hats, and it 
 seems to me that we can supply them, and at the 
 same time avoid expense, by giving them the three 
 silk hats." 
 
 Now Martha, having a great deal of Irish humor 
 as well as Irish blood, at once saw how absurd and 
 yet how funny it would be. So, hiding a smile, she 
 said, "All right, my dear, if you desire it." 
 
 Nick was about eleven years old, but there was no 
 trouble in fitting him, as his head was quite large for 
 
94 
 
 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 his age. Paper had to be put in the other two hats 
 to make them small enough. 
 
 The next Sunday the boys arrayed themselves 
 
 in homespun suits, 
 brogan shoes, and 
 "two-story" silk 
 hats. Thus attired 
 they went to church. 
 Mat riding one mule 
 and Tate riding be- 
 hind Nick on an- 
 other. Arriving at 
 the church, they dis- 
 mounted, hitched the 
 mules to the trees, and walked abreast toward the 
 building. They squared their shoulders and stepped 
 proudly when they saw that they were the "observed 
 of all observers." 
 
 The reader must not infer that Nick was a typical 
 boy of Dixie on that occasion, for it is probable that 
 no other boys of the land were ever rigged out in that 
 wa}^ before or since. 
 
 Every farmer had negroes, more or less. As a rule, 
 they were well cared for, partly because they were 
 valuable property, but mostly on account of the per- 
 sonal* regard the whites had for them. In the case of 
 old family servants this regard amounted to real 
 
PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 95 
 
 love, on the part of both the whites and the blacks. 
 In this community there were exacting but no cruel 
 masters. A place was reserved for the negroes in the 
 church, and the two races thus worshipped together 
 every Sunday. The writer never saw an exception to 
 this statement by Henry W. Grady: "The one char- 
 acter utterly condemned and ostracised was the man 
 who was mean to his slaves. For the cruel master, 
 there was no toleration." 
 
 Year by year the neighborhood improved in every 
 way. The country was becoming pretty thickly 
 settled by civil and industrious people. Follow^ing 
 them came better roads and bridges, brickyards and 
 lumber mills, improved stock and vehicles, finer 
 houses and better churches, better schoolhouses and 
 schools, and many comforts unknown in pioneer life. 
 
 Every man went to church on Sunday, w earing his 
 best clothes, driving his best team, and putting on 
 his best airs. At the church the mules and horses 
 were hitched to the trees, the w^omen went at once 
 into the building, and the men gathered in front of it, 
 talked of the crops, related personal ''stunts," 
 cracked jokes, and chewed tobacco. These per- 
 formances were presently disturbed by the singing 
 within of some old hymn, as: — 
 
 "When I can read my title clear 
 To mansions in the skies. 
 
96 
 
 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 I'll bid farewell to every fear 
 And wipe my weeping eyes." 
 
 This was the signal for all to come in, and in they 
 went, hats off, heads up, and eyes to the front. Each 
 looked as if he felt that he was the center of observa- 
 tion. 
 
PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 97 
 
 The sermons were usually of an hour's length, and 
 on "big occasions" two hours. They were fluent, 
 earnest, and thoughtful. Now and then the climaxes 
 (oral) rose to such heights as to disturb the naps of 
 the old folks. 
 
 After the services, all assembled on the lawn in 
 front of the church and there was a regular epidemic 
 of handshaking, " howdying," and chatting. It 
 seemed as if everybody was trying to get everybody 
 else to "go home with them to dinner." All stran- 
 gers and visitors were specially looked after, and if 
 any failed to be well cared for it was his own fault. 
 
 "Ben," said John as they rode off together, "why 
 are people so talkative just after coming out of 
 church.^" 
 
 "It seems to me," said Ben, "that talk just nat- 
 urally flows out of some people like water out of a 
 spring, and when they have to be silent for a bit, as 
 in a church, it dams up their stream of talk, and the 
 supply thus accumulates until their reservoirs are 
 chock-full. When the bars to speech are removed the 
 flood gates are opened and the pent-up talk pours 
 forth like compressed steam from a mud- valve." 
 
 "And the worst of it is," replied John, "no matter 
 what they begin to talk about they always end with 
 talking about themselves." 
 
98 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 The Forest Grove School 
 
 The school at Forest Grove kept pace with the 
 rapid march of progress everywhere to be seen. In 
 comparison with the Cane Ridge school there were 
 now better books, finer equipments, and fitter teach- 
 ers. Chief among these books were Davies's arith- 
 metics. Smith's grammar, Mitchell's geographies, 
 McGuffey's readers, and Webster's speller. The 
 switch was still used, but not so much as in the 
 Cane Ridge school. Under the old regime the master 
 went at it as if it were a manly and heroic feat; now 
 the teacher prefaced his floggings by the declaration: 
 "I do this from a sense of duty, and I assure you it 
 does not hurt you one whit more than it does me." 
 
 "So we boys and girls," said Mark, "were bound to 
 admit that it was mighty good in him to take such 
 an interest in us, yet we could have wished him less 
 ready to sacrifice himself." The new plan of ruling 
 pupils by "moral suasion" was much spoken of and 
 strongly advocated by persons of "progressive edu- 
 cational ideas." An old-time teacher speaking of it 
 said: "There are cases it will not reach, but you 
 put the rod to them and they will hustle like a ter- 
 rapin with a coal of fire on his back." 
 
 There were no public schools then as we have them 
 now. The patrons, and not the state, employed the 
 
THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 99 
 
 teachers and paid them for their services. The tui- 
 tion fees were $2, $3, and $4 per month, according 
 as the pupil was in a lower or higher class. The state 
 paid the school a small sum, and each patron's pro 
 rata share of this "public money" was deducted 
 from his tuition bill. 
 
 The school "took in" at 8 o'clock a. m., and 
 " turned out " at 5 o'clock p. M. In the morning about 
 10 and in the afternoon about 3:30 there was a short 
 recess. From 12 to 1:30 was "dinner time" and 
 "play time." The playground of the boys was in 
 front of the schoolhouse and that of the girls was in the 
 rear of it. The games played by the boys were town 
 ball, bull pen, roly hole, mumble the peg, marbles, 
 hats, broad and high jumps, three jumps, and "half 
 hammon." Another favorite game was "deer." The 
 boy who could run fastest and longest usually played 
 deer, and all the others were the dogs. The dogs would 
 pursue the deer through the near-by fields and woods, 
 and the chase often lasted during the entire play time. 
 
 Up to that time few countries ever sent a greater 
 proportion of their sons to college than did the South. 
 The favorite colleges were Yale, Princeton, and the 
 University of Virginia, though many excellent ones 
 nearer home were liberally patronized. Man^^ of 
 these bright young graduates began life as teachers, 
 expecting later on to take up the study and practice 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 7 
 
100 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 of law, medicine, or engineering. Three of these, 
 Griggs, Simmons, and Boring, were the successive 
 principals of the Forest Grove school, and they were 
 men of ability and culture. 
 
 With them the chief end of education was culture, 
 and the basis of all culture was good spelling, reading, 
 and writing. Every student, however high his studies 
 or standing, had to recite once a day in the "big 
 spelling class." The written tests in any subject were 
 "deficient" unless the spelling and writing were good. 
 This is illustrated in the following incident: 
 
 Nick and two other lads, Toab and Charlie, were 
 studying elementary algebra. At a certain recitation 
 Toab was sent to the board to solve a problem about 
 dividing an estate between a widow, two sons, and 
 three daughters. According to the requirements he 
 wrote the solution in full, with much regard for form, 
 clearness, spelling, and punctuation. But with all 
 his care he made the mistake of writing "wider" for 
 widow. 
 
 "Toab," said the teacher, "I am surprised to see 
 that you do not know how to spell widow." 
 
 Toab at once erased "wider," and with an air 
 which seemed to say, "Of course I know better than 
 that," wrote "widor." 
 
 "Charles," said the teacher, "go to the board and 
 show Toab how to spell widow." 
 
THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 101 
 
 Charles was a vain fellow, and thinking he had a 
 sure thing of it, strutted up to the board, erased 
 "widor" and wrote "widder." 
 
 "Nick, go and show those ignorant boys how to 
 spell widow," ordered the teacher. 
 
 Now Nick thought his time of triumph had come, 
 because he could not conceive of more than one 
 
 other way in which the thing could be done. So he 
 stepped boldly forward, erased "widder" and wrote 
 "widdor." 
 
 It is safe to say that, after that impressive school- 
 ing, those boys never forgot how to spell that highly 
 respected word. 
 
 The funniest stories are those of incidents which 
 actually occurred, like the above and the following 
 one, though they are never so funny in the telling 
 as in the doing of the thing itself. 
 
 One of the little fellows was given the word "squir- 
 rel" to spell. He hesitated, because he did not know 
 
102 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 
 
 how to make a start, much less how to proceed after 
 he had started. Being pressed by the teacher, and 
 feehng that he just had to do it some way or another, 
 he made a pass at it by exclaiming, "sque-didle-dy." 
 
 Every Friday afternoon the students, large and 
 small, had to "speak." Nowadays it is called recit- 
 ing. Occasionally it was "public Friday," at which 
 times the parents and the public were invited to at- 
 tend. On these public occasions the boys and girls 
 wore their Sunday clothes, and were washed and 
 dressed beyond a state of naturalness and comfort. 
 There were reserved seats for the guests. The master 
 called out the speakers, one at a time, beginning with 
 the smallest. 
 
 Each speech began and ended with a "bow," — 
 often a quick nod or jerk of the head, as if the speaker 
 wished to get through with the performance as soon 
 as possible. None had been trained in the "art of 
 expression," yet many bowed gracefully, and spoke 
 deliberately, clearly, and impressively. The program 
 was about as follows: 
 
 1. A boy. "I like to see the growing grass. 
 
 Before the farmer mows it, 
 I like to see the pacing horse 
 'Cause when he goes he goes it." 
 
 2. A girl. "I had a little bunty hen. 
 
 Which mama gave to me, 
 
THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 
 
 103 
 
 Every day she laid two eggs, 
 And Sunday she laid three." 
 
 9. A boy. "The boy stood on the burning deck, 
 
 Whence all but him had fled," and so 
 on. 
 
 10. A girl. "I met a little cottage girl, 
 
 She was eight years old, she said," etc. 
 
 19. A boy. ''On Linden when the sun was low. 
 
 All bloodless lay the untrod'n snow." 
 
 20. A girl. "Stay, jailer, stay, and hear my woe," 
 
 etc. 
 
 49. A boy. "They tell us that we are weak," etc. 
 
 50. A girl. "There 
 was a sound of ^^^ U/^^^ 
 revelry by <^:>fM)^^. 
 night," etc. 
 
 Some very funny 
 things happened at OT^f^^ ^^ -^ 
 these speakings. P^^^^^^^ \ 
 
 Little Charlie once %fiH!^-4 ''"^^-'^V ""^^ 
 
 
 began and ended as r^"'^^""^^'--^-\)i~^3jl y7 
 follows: ^ =^'-- "^^^^ 
 
 "I like to see a little dog. 
 And pat him on the — Oh! — Oh! — " 
 
 Thus breaking down, he stammered, "Oh! Mr. 
 Boring, everybody is looking right straight at me." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 Typical of Dixie 
 
 As before stated, North-Central Louisiana was 
 settled by English-speaking people — those whose 
 forefathers came from England, Ireland, or Scotland. 
 Few new countries were ever blessed with a better 
 class of citizens. They came from all parts of the 
 South, attracted by the salubrity of the region, the 
 fertility of the soil, and the abundance of pure water, 
 timber, and game. Each of the older states of Dixie 
 was represented there by hundreds of its best men 
 and women. Probably no other section of the South 
 was so typical of Dixie as a whole. There the Vir- 
 ginian, the South Carolinian, the Kentuckian, and 
 the Georgian came together, bringing and blending 
 their ideals, manners, and customs. It was Dixie 
 in a nutshell. 
 
 Many towns and cities have crooked streets, owing 
 to their having been built along winding roads or 
 streams. This was not the case with Homer, the 
 county seat of Claiborne Parish. It was located "at 
 
 104 
 
TWO GOOD SIGNS 105 
 
 the center of the parish." Fortunately the site thus 
 determined (seven miles west of Forest Grove) was 
 a beautiful one, and in the woods. There were no 
 roads, streams, or buildings to interfere with an ideal 
 plan, and the citizens had the good sense to lay off the 
 town in square "blocks." Hence all the streets are 
 straight and cross one another at right angles. The 
 same good taste and judgment w^ere exercised in 
 building the residences and gardens, so that Homer 
 is now, and always has been, one of the prettiest and 
 cleanest inland towns in the South. The courthouse, 
 a two-story building surrounded by an imposing 
 peristyle of massive columns, stands alone on the cen- 
 tral square, and facing it on all sides are stores and 
 oflfices, as in most Southern county seats. 
 
 Two Good Signs 
 
 Two of the best signs of an alert and progressive 
 people are good roads and good schools. While these, 
 in that section, were in many ways deficient, they 
 were pretty good for a new country. The roads were 
 worked regularly by the people at large, white and 
 black, under the direction of an overseer appointed 
 by the Police Jury. The streams were well bridged, 
 and the roads through the swamps and low places, 
 causewayed. In thinly settled districts the school- 
 
106 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 houses were often crude and the schools poorly at- 
 tended; but in the more prosperous neighborhoods 
 the schools were similar to that of Forest Grove. 
 
 That some of the schools were of high order is 
 shown by the fact that many of the teachers were 
 graduates of the best colleges of the country. Two of 
 these principals were Edwin Fay, a graduate of Har- 
 vard University, who subsequently became the State 
 Superintendent of education, and David F. Boyd, a 
 graduate of the University of Virginia, and after- 
 wards President of the State University. 
 
 This promising state of affairs was the outgrowth 
 of a condition and a force which always make for 
 good: (1) the people at large were sturdy and sensible; 
 (2) there were among them many well educated and 
 public-spirited men and women. That some of them 
 were tasty, if not classic, is shown by the names they 
 gave the towns and villages; such as Homer, Athens, 
 Sparta, Lisbon, Minden, Vienna, Tulip, Trenton, 
 Vernon, and Arcadia. 
 
 The Gee Place 
 
 Twelve miles east of Homer is an old place which 
 has a history of more than local interest on account 
 of its connection with certain noted men and events. 
 This, known as the "Gee Place," has been the scene 
 
THE GEE PLACE 107 
 
 of many a, gay party; and many a traveler, rich and 
 poor, has found a hearty welcome within its walls. 
 
 It was settled by Major James Dyer in 1822. He 
 w^as an old soldier of the war of 1812, and was with 
 General Jackson in the battle of New Orleans. 
 Claiborne Parish was created at his suggestion and 
 largely by his untiring efforts, and he was its first 
 representative in the state legislature. On account 
 of his witty, wise, and terse sayings, he was known 
 as the Benjamin Franklin of the parish. He came 
 from Missouri to Louisiana. 
 
 The most noted brigand that ever figured in the 
 land of Dixie was John Murel, and he had much to 
 do, in an indirect way, with making the Gee Place 
 an ideal old Southern home. His home was in 
 Tennessee, but he was the leader of a large band of 
 robbers who stole and sold negroes, horses, and cattle 
 all up and down the Mississippi Valley. There were 
 gangs of these robbers at different places — in the 
 towns and woods and on the islands in the rivers — 
 and these gangs helped one another in disposing of 
 the plunder. 
 
 Murel was a dashing, fine-looking fellow, fairly 
 well educated, and a good speaker. He knew much 
 about the Bible, and when it suited his wicked pur- 
 poses he pretended to be a preacher. Frequently 
 he preached to assemblies, large and small, and while 
 
108 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 the people were enjoying his "fine sermons" on good 
 morals and high ideals his men crept up out of the 
 woods and stole their horses. 
 
 S. P. Gee was born and reared in Tennessee. He 
 
 was a bright and well 
 educated man, and began 
 life as a teacher. While 
 yet a young man he 
 moved to Mississippi, 
 and settled near Rocky 
 Springs, a few miles east 
 of Vicksburg. There he 
 met the beautiful Miss 
 Brock, a daughter of one 
 of Mississippi's wealthy planters. Each was at- 
 tracted by the good qualities of the other, and they 
 became man and wife. 
 
 Many good men desired to bring Murel to trial 
 and break up his band of robbers. But they failed 
 to do so, probably on account of the lack of any 
 definite proof as to Murel's guilt, and also because 
 Murel had many friends who would probably have 
 resented his prosecution. Now Mr. Gee had a brave 
 young friend named Stewart, to whom he said, 
 
 "Stewart, it is not always the things that can be 
 demonstrated of which we are the most sure. I am 
 confident that Murel is a very bad and dangerous 
 
THE GEE PLACE 109 
 
 man, and if you will get the proofs of it I will prose- 
 cute him." 
 
 "All right," said Stewart, "I'll do the best I can," 
 and straightway started on his hazardous under- 
 taking. After many unsuccessful attempts, and be- 
 lieving that "the end justified the means" he joined 
 Murel's clan, took the oath, and was given their 
 secret passwords and grips. He then visited several 
 of their camps and learned all about them. 
 
 He brought back such reports of the large number 
 of men in the service of Murel that Mr. Gee laid the 
 matter before the governor of the state, and asked 
 him for the help of the state militia in arresting the 
 outlaws. So Murel was arrested, tried, convicted, 
 and sentenced to the penitentiary. But Gee and 
 Stewart had to leave the state to avoid being killed 
 by some of Murel's men. Mr. Gee sold his property 
 and took his wife to some city in the North. After 
 living there a year he went into the wilds of North 
 Louisiana and bought the Dyer place in 1836. One 
 of Murel's men followed him even to this secluded 
 spot, and would have killed him had it not been for 
 the brave and timely help of one of Mr. Gee's negro 
 men. 
 
 Mr. Gee became one of the wealthiest men in 
 North-Central Louisiana. He built a beautiful 
 home, and surrounded it with pretty gardens, flowers, 
 
110 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 and walks. His large farm was a model in all that 
 goes to make a farm attractive and productive. The 
 roads through it reminded one of paved streets, and 
 even along the fences and branches there were no 
 weeds or bushes. The spacious barns seemed burst- 
 
 ing with corn and fodder, and the horses, cows, and 
 hogs looked as if they felt that way. There was 
 everywhere a seeming rivalry between cleanliness 
 and abundance. Here the traveler found rest and 
 the hungry food, and that "without money and 
 without price." 
 
 Mr. Gee died in 1863, and after his death Mrs. 
 
THE GEE PLACE 111 
 
 Gee told Mr. Hilley, her son-in-law, the following 
 story, making him promise not to repeat it to any- 
 one during her lifetime. The story is in relation to 
 two of Mr. Gee's friends. Major McEnery and Dr. 
 Egan, with whom the reader should have some ac- 
 quaintance in order to appreciate it. 
 
 Major McEnery was a Virginian, a ripe scholar, 
 and an able lawyer. He served in the war of 1812, 
 being the major of a regiment. Subsequently he 
 moved to Louisiana, and settled in Monroe, where he 
 practiced his profession. He was the father of John 
 and Samuel McEnery, both of whom became gov- 
 ernors of the state. 
 
 Dr. Bartholomew Egan was born in Ireland and 
 educated at Trinity College, Dublin. He was learned 
 in the classics and also in the science and art of 
 medicine. He was brought to this country by 
 Thomas Jefferson to be a professor in the University 
 of Virginia. Later on, he began the practice of 
 medicine, and became the surgeon of the regiment 
 of which McEnery was the major. Some time 
 after the war he moved to North-Central Louisiana, 
 where he lived and died. He was the father of Hon. 
 W. B. Egan, one of the supreme judges of the state, 
 and also of Dr. J. C. Egan, a noted physician of 
 Shreveport. 
 
 One cold winter afternoon, away back in the 
 
112 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 forties, according to Mrs. Gee's story, she. Dr. 
 Egan, and Mr. Gee, were seated by a warm fire in 
 her parlor. There was a "hello" at the front gate, 
 and Mr. Gee, on going out, was rejoiced to see his 
 old friend Major McEnery. As they walked toward 
 the house Mr. Gee casually stated that Dr. Egan 
 had also stopped to spend the night. 
 
 The major, halting, said, "Then, you must excuse 
 me; I shall go on to the next place." 
 
 "You will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Gee. 
 "I did not know of any difference between you and 
 the doctor. If there is any, I can put you in separate 
 rooms." 
 
 "No," said the major, "I would not put you to 
 that trouble. I will go in the room where Dr. Egan 
 is, if you and Mrs. Gee will not be offended by my 
 ignoring him altogether." 
 
 In the meantime Dr. Egan, looking through the 
 window, saw Mr. Gee and the major enter the front 
 gate, and at once said to Mrs. Gee, "If Major 
 McEnery comes into this room, you and Mr. Gee 
 must permit me to ignore him entirely." 
 
 Mr. Gee went alone into the room, had a short 
 conference with his wife and the doctor, and return- 
 ing to the major said, "It is all right, major; come 
 in." 
 
 Seated around a cheerful fire the party talked. 
 
THE GEE PLACE 
 
 113 
 
 told stories, and laughed; but neither the doctor 
 nor the major made any reply (and seemingly paid 
 no attention) to an^^thing the other said. This con- 
 duct continued at the table, during the evening, and 
 the next morning until the visitors left. 
 
 Major McEnery was the last to leave; taking his 
 host by the hand, he said, "I owe you and Mrs. 
 Gee an apology, and I ask you to receive my state- 
 ment in confidence. Dr. Egan and I were friends in 
 Virginia, and served in the same regiment. We had 
 a quarrel; it led to a duel between us; there was 
 one exchange of shots; each of us called for another; 
 our seconds said that was enough; we separated 
 
114 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 without being restored to friendship, and so the 
 matter has stood ever since." 
 
 Soon after Mrs. Gee's death Mr. Hilley, who now 
 resides in Shreveport, told Nick the story of the Gee 
 Place. Many, many years after that, Samuel 
 McEnery became governor of the state. One day 
 Nick went into the governor's office, and finding 
 him alone, related to him the story of the singular 
 meeting of his father and Dr. Egan. 
 
 The governor listened intently to Nick until he 
 finished, and then said, 
 
 "Nick, every word of that is true, but I did not 
 think anyone knew anything about it except the 
 older members of the two families. Soon after Dr. 
 Egan and my father died their sons came together 
 and agreed not to prolong the feud of their fathers. 
 So the matter was dropped and forgotten, and there 
 are now no closer or warmer friends in the state than 
 the sons of those two good men." 
 
 A Peaceful and Prosperous Land 
 
 Eight public roads started from Homer and led 
 in different directions, not unlike spokes diverging 
 from the hub of a wheel. Along these thorough- 
 fares, for miles and miles, were beautiful homes and 
 prosperous farms, many of them resembling and 
 
A PEACEFUL AND PROSPEROUS LAND 115 
 
 rivaling the Gee Place in appearance and magnitude, 
 resources and hospitality. The residences, standing 
 in the center of large grounds, nestled in swelling 
 masses of semi-tropical plants and exotics of many a 
 hue. Everywhere were the signs of an active, tasty, 
 intelligent, and practical population. 
 
 The owners of these homes were not generally 
 men of high academic culture, but with a "grammar- 
 school education" they had that culture which comes 
 from handling important affairs, reading current 
 events of parish, state, and nation, associating 
 with civil and well-to-do 
 people, and aiming al- 
 ways to play the role of 
 "the gentleman 
 all their dealings 
 with their neighbors 
 and slaves, and es- 
 pecially with 
 strangers. Of : 
 course there 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 8 
 
116 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 were exceptions. Here, as elsewhere, were shiftless 
 men and women, rowdies and blackguards. But, as 
 a rule, the men who directed public affairs and 
 molded public sentiment were upright, intelligent 
 and forceful. Nor were such men confined to any 
 particular walk of life. Men of brains and character 
 were io be found among the lawyers and doctors, 
 ministers and farmers, merchants, educators and ed- 
 itors. A scholar who has read much and traveled 
 more, and who knew that section of the state inti- 
 mately as it was before the Civil War, recently said, 
 
 "On the whole, I could have selected an abler 
 body of men from North Louisiana in 1860 than I 
 have ever seen assembled in the capital of any state, 
 North or South." 
 
 But the thrifty air of that once prosperous region 
 has disappeared. The town (Homer) has improved, 
 but the surrounding country has deteriorated in 
 many ways. All rejoice in the freedom of the negro, 
 yet it is a lamentable fact that a number of homes, 
 improvements, and good old customs were swept 
 away when slavery was abolished. 
 
RELIGION AND CHURCHES 117 
 
 Religion and Churches 
 
 When the complete history of the development of 
 the country is written, no part of it will shine with 
 greater splendor and none will furnish more ex- 
 amples of self-sacrificing devotion to duty than 
 the work wrought by the Christian ministers. In 
 sunshine and in showers, often in hunger and in 
 tattered clothes, traveling where there were no roads, 
 and sleeping where there were no beds, they toiled 
 for the spread of the gospel and the betterment 
 of their fellow-creatures. With busybodies of this 
 character northern Louisiana was blessed in every 
 stage of its development. 
 
 Churches sprang up in all the towns and villages 
 and at some of the most frequented crossroads. 
 Many of these houses of worship had their origin 
 in brush arbors and crude log cabins, but, with the 
 increase in population and wealth, they grew in 
 size, equipments, and architectural design and finish. 
 Few other sections of the country now have hand- 
 somer and more costly church edifices. 
 
 In influence and numbers the leading churches 
 were the Methodist and the Baptist, and next to 
 these came the Presbyterian. The ministers of these 
 several sects were devout and zealous, some of them 
 having abiUty of the highest order. With their 
 
118 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 fluency of speech, logical skill, and imaginative force, 
 they were always popular and instructive, and often 
 overpowering in their pulpit efforts. A few of the 
 more brilliant were Randle, Wafer, Cravens, Parker, 
 Slack, Ford, Bright, Haislip, Moreland, and Harris.* 
 
 In ideals, convictions, and habits the people were 
 largely puritanic. Scarcely could a neighborhood 
 be found in which dancing or card playing was 
 practiced, and the observance of Sunday was almost 
 universal. 
 
 Of course there were exceptions, even among the 
 better classes. The author cannot vouch for the 
 following story as to fact, but it is true as to condi- 
 tions; that is, it might have been. The persons 
 named were well known to the writer, and it was like 
 them to have done as represented. 
 
 Brother John was a Georgian and a good Method- 
 ist, and Brother Ben was a South Carolinian and a 
 good Baptist. They were neighbors and friends, 
 witty and full of good humor, good shots and fond 
 of hunting, and withal representatives of two of the 
 best families of the country. With respect to the 
 observance of Sunday they were alike in that "while 
 the spirit was willing the flesh was weak," especially 
 during the "gobbling-season." 
 
 * Rev. Harris was the father of the present brilliant State Superin- 
 tendent of Education. 
 
RELIGION AND CHURCHES 119 
 
 One bright Sunday morning Brothers Ben and 
 John were riding along a country road on their way 
 to church. The dew glistened on the grass and the 
 birds sang in every tree. There was a touch of spring- 
 time resurrection in the pure woodland air, and the 
 bursting buds gave mute expression to the joy of 
 life. A flock of wild turkeys was feeding in the 
 
 woods, and, seeing the horsemen, struck a swinging 
 trot and moved off like shadows to a near-by copse. 
 
 Brothers Ben and John at once became silent, 
 sucked their pipes hard and sent forth, under much 
 pressure, wisps of smoke into the air. "John," 
 said Brother Ben finally, "it has just occurred to 
 me that I left the cows in the pen, and I must re- 
 turn at once and let them out." 
 
 Now Brother John, being left alone, also re- 
 turned, taking a different route. Soon afterwards, 
 Brother Ben, having obtained his gun, was crawling 
 
120 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 along on his all-fours near where he had seen the 
 turkeys, screening himself behind a large log in front 
 of him. On reaching the log he heard a noise on 
 the other side, and believing it to be caused by a 
 turkey, peeped over; Brother John, also thinking 
 that he was about to get a gobbler, peeped over 
 from the other side, and the two gazed into each 
 other's eyes. 
 
 Being surprised and somewhat abashed both were 
 silent for a moment, then broke into a hearty laugh. 
 Brother John, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, 
 took the other by the hand and said, "Brother Ben, 
 let me congratulate you on joining the coterie of 
 Louisiana gentlemen." 
 
 In the same jocular tone and spirit Brother Ben 
 replied, "Brother John, every South Carolinian likes 
 to associate with gentlemen; indeed, speaking rev- 
 erently, in that upper and better world to which I 
 hope we are all going, I really have less desire to 
 sit with the angels than to stand among the gentle- 
 
 men." 
 
 Introducing Oat 
 
 Life in North-Central Louisiana had its humorous 
 as well as its serious side. Probably the wisest advice 
 Dickens ever gave the world was to "keep jolly." 
 He himself was a public benefactor in that he so 
 
INTRODUCING OAT 
 
 121 
 
 often made the world laugh. It is well to grow to 
 manhood or womanhood without losing a child's 
 capacity for enjoyment, and this is what the people 
 of that section largely did. One of the most familiar 
 sounds in the house and on the farm, in the office or 
 on the street, was hearty laughter. All classes seemed 
 to be capable of joy without knowing the reason why. 
 "Oh," once exclaimed a young lady, "I am just 
 flooded with enthusiasm for — nobod}^ knows what." 
 
 In such an atmosphere, as 
 one would suppose, man}" wits 
 and fun makers sprang up. 
 Prominent among these was 
 "Oat." As several of his 
 jokes will be related in these 
 chronicles, probably the 
 reader would like to be- 
 come somewhat 
 quainted with him at 
 the outset. His real 
 name is Oatis 
 A. Smith. He 
 was born in 
 Dadeville, Ala- 
 bama, and later 
 resided in Gor- 
 don, Louisiana. 
 
122 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 He is a good citizen, and was a splendid soldier 
 in the Civil War. He is witty, always sees the funny 
 side of a situation, and enjoys a practical joke, 
 whether he is the perpetrator or the victim. 
 
 Oat once went into the country to make some col- 
 lections, and his trip led him into a region with which 
 he was not familiar. There had been a great rainfall 
 the night before, and the creeks and branches were 
 swollen to inundation. He came to a wide expanse 
 of water running across the road. Not knowing how 
 deep it might be, and desiring to keep his shoes and 
 socks dry, he alighted and pulled them off. He again 
 mounted his horse, rode across safely, and was put- 
 ting on his shoes when another man rode up and in- 
 quired, 
 
 "How is it, neighbor.'^" 
 
 "Mighty bad," said Oat. 
 
 "What would you advise me to do.^" asked the 
 stranger. 
 
 "Do just what I did," said Oat. "Get off your 
 horse, pull off all your clothes, shoes, and socks, tie 
 them into a bundle with your suspenders, and ride 
 across, holding the bundle high over your head." 
 
 "Well," said the fellow, "if I must I must," and he 
 at once dismounted and began to " shuck " off his 
 clothes. 
 
 In the meantime Oat, having dressed, mounted his 
 
INTRODUCING OAT 123 
 
 horse and rode away. But when out of sight, he hid 
 his horse in the bushes, and went back unseen to 
 watch the performance. 
 
 The stranger followed the instructions with much 
 regard for details. He mounted his horse, grasping 
 its mane firmly with one hand, holding the bundle, 
 aloft with the other; and pressing his heels to the 
 sides of the steed, he ventured into the "rolling deep." 
 But imagine his joy and also his chagrin, when he 
 discovered that the place had a hard, firm, sandy 
 bottom, and the water was not more than ten inches 
 deep. 
 
 Oat is now old in years but still young in buoyancy 
 of spirits. That his love of jokes has not waned with 
 the lapse of time is shown by the following incident, 
 which occurred quite recently. 
 
 In the vicinity of Gordon, where Oat Kves, there 
 are a number of men and boys who are fond of hunt- 
 ing. They are good shots and pride themselves on 
 their good marksmanship. These hunters often as- 
 semble at the village store, especially on a Saturday 
 afternoon, bringing their guns and ammunition. Now 
 Oat secured the skin of a squirrel, and had it nailed 
 high up in a tall tree standing near the store. It 
 was placed so that only small parts of the back and 
 tail could be seen from any point of the grounds. 
 
 The following Saturday the hunters turned out in 
 
124 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 full force. An ally 
 of Oat's looking 
 quietly up the tall 
 tree, h i s hands 
 shading his eyes, 
 said, "Boys, I do 
 believe I see a 
 squirrel up that 
 tree." 
 
 One of the hunt- 
 ers, scanning the 
 tree closely, said, 
 "That certainly is 
 a squirrel." 
 
 The boys sprang 
 instantly to their 
 feet and made a 
 rush for their guns, 
 each anxious t o 
 secure the prize, 
 and still more anx- 
 ious to display his 
 marksmanship. 
 ^^"^ One shot after 
 
 another rent the air, and bark, twigs, and leaves fell, 
 but no squirrel. Then volley after volley followed, 
 filling the air with smoke and fragments of bark and 
 
HOMER COLLEGE 125 
 
 twigs. But to the wonder of the boys the squirrel 
 was as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. 
 
 "Boys," said one of the number, "that is the gol- 
 darn-dest squirrel I ever tackled." 
 
 Much powder and shot were wasted before it was 
 found to be "one of Oat's tricks." 
 
 Homer College 
 
 Such was the boom in educational matters that 
 the churches came to think that North-Central 
 Louisiana needed and would support a college. So 
 the following were founded : the Minden Female Col- 
 lege, by the Presbyterians; the Mount Lebanon Male 
 College, by the Baptists; and the Homer Male Col- 
 lege, by the Methodists. These colleges had not as 
 large or fine buildings as many of our present high 
 schools; but at that time they were thought to be 
 ample and grand. Some of these old buildings are 
 still standing, and though out of style and repair, 
 timeworn and weatherstained, they are splendid 
 monuments to the high ideals of the men who founded 
 them. 
 
 Although they had no funds, except those derived 
 from tuition fees, they did well and in a certain sense 
 were great schools. In the male colleges there was 
 only one course of study, and that was made up 
 
126 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 chiefly of Latin, Greek, and Mathematics. The 
 teaching of these subjects does not require the costly 
 equipments (apparatus, laboratory, shops, and so 
 forth) that are needed to teach the many practical 
 courses in our great colleges of to-day. This explains 
 why they could be great schools without much 
 means. 
 
 In those days people sent their sons to college to 
 have their mental and moral natures trained, dis- 
 ciplined, and refined, wath little thought as to how 
 this culture could be turned to useful account, except 
 in a general way. It was thought then that when a 
 boy's mind was trained to think, compare, and reason 
 he could easily learn the special things necessary to 
 a lawyer, doctor, farmer, or any profession he might 
 choose to follow. The following incident will illus- 
 trate their view of the matter: 
 
 In a certain town in Louisiana lived an eminent 
 lawyer who, in conversation with a noted educator, 
 said, "I have not the high appreciation of Latin, 
 Greek, and Mathematics that I once had; I studied 
 these things at the University of Virginia, but I have 
 never had occasion to use them during my thirty 
 years of experience as a lawyer." 
 
 Pointing to a brick wall on the opposite side of the 
 street, the educator replied, "My dear sir, you know 
 that in building that wall they used scaffolding; where 
 
HOMER COLLEGE 
 
 127 
 
 is that scaffolding now? If that wall could speak, how 
 foolish and how ungrateful it would be for it to say, 
 *I have no use for scaf- 
 folding; I have been stand- 
 ing here thirty years and 
 I have never had occasion 
 to use it during that long 
 time.'" 
 
 "A great man once 
 said," continued the edu- 
 cator, "'if I should forget 
 every fact and principle 
 which I learned while at 
 school and college I would 
 not be a very poor man, 
 but if I should lose the mental training which I ac- 
 quired by the mastery of those facts I would be 
 poor indeed.'" 
 
 Nick entered Homer College on its opening day. 
 His mother went with him, and in presenting him to 
 the faculty said, "Put him where you think he be- 
 longs; it is our purpose to keep him here until he 
 graduates." Nick had been well prepared for college 
 at the Forest Grove school. He stood the entrance 
 examination and was assigned to the freshman class. 
 
 He was not examined in English, geography, or 
 history; but mostly in Latin, arithmetic, and algebra. 
 
128 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 In Latin he had gone through the grammar, reader, 
 Cicero, Csesar, and the iEneid of Virgil. The best way 
 to learn English was then thought to be through and 
 by means of Latin; hence much of the English taught, 
 especially rhetoric and belles-lettres, came late in the 
 course of study, after the student had been well 
 grounded in Latin. 
 
 There were no written tests as we have them to- 
 day. When reciting, the class was seated on long 
 benches in front of the teacher, and the students were 
 quizzed or sent to the board one at a time, and were 
 graded according to their answers. Examinations 
 were public and conducted in the same way. The 
 great assembly room of the college was often full of 
 people on examination day, and one or more of the 
 visitors, by request of the teacher, sometimes con- 
 ducted the examination. 
 
 The citizens of Homer were often amused, and 
 probably sometimes annoyed, by the pranks of the 
 college boys. One Sunday morning as the people 
 were quietly passing through the courthouse square 
 on their way to church, some strange sights came into 
 view. It looked as if all the business men had sud- 
 denly changed their places of business. A doctor's 
 signboard was on a merchant's store, a saloon sign 
 was on the post office, a lawyer's sign on a stable, the 
 stable sign on the hotel, and so on. "That is the 
 
HOMER COLLEGE 129 
 
 work of those mischievous college boys," said one of 
 the party; and everybody smiled or laughed, thus 
 confirming the statement of Haislip : " Man is the only 
 creature that laughs, because he alone sees things as 
 they are and as they should be." 
 
 At one time Dan Rice's circus was coming to town, 
 and orders were issued prohibiting the college boys 
 from attending. The faculty thought it hurtful to 
 good morals to go to such places. Nevertheless a 
 large number of the students went, thinking or hop- 
 ing that it might not become known to the college 
 authorities. But the president was alert; he learned 
 of the violation, and suspended the participants, 
 thirty-six in all, for a period of two weeks. 
 
 This outbreak, like many another prank of college 
 life, was committed in mere wantonness of unex- 
 pended vitality. Probably it would not have hap- 
 pened had the pent up buoyancy of youth been re- 
 lieved by some active duty or play. Many of those 
 boys now sleep on the battlefields of the Civil War. 
 Among the few still hving the writer recalls Black, ^ 
 John, 2 and Will,^ all of whom have attained distinc- 
 tion or competency in their several lines of work.* 
 
 Nick's roommate, Sam Pursley, always took a 
 hand in any mischief that was going on. On the 
 night of the circus he blacked himself with burnt 
 
 * The numbers refer to the appendix in which the real names are given. 
 
130 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 cork, put on a ragged suit, and went to the show. 
 Feeling that no one would see through his disguise, 
 
 he mingled freely 
 with all classes, and 
 incited much amuse- 
 ment and laughter 
 by his "negro antics 
 and lingo." Soon 
 after that, Sam's 
 father moved to 
 Mississippi (in 1860), 
 and the only time 
 Nick and Sam ever 
 saw each other 
 again was during the 
 last year of the Civil War (1865). Then they met 
 and had a short talk on the road near Hamburg, 
 South Carolina, Sam being in the cavalry and Nick 
 in the infantry of the Confederate Army. Such are 
 the strange coincidences of human life. 
 
 Nick and Hines "^ were college chums and in the 
 same class. Hines was brilliant in Latin and Greek, 
 and Nick was good in mathematics. Hence it took 
 the two together to make one first-class student. 
 Nick was a hard student of mathematics, incited and 
 stimulated by a love rather than a talent for the sub- 
 ject. So he came to be dubbed the "college mathe- 
 
HOMER COLLEGE 131 
 
 matician." The professor of mathematics once gave 
 the class three days to solve a certain hard problem 
 (the problem of "the three points" in trigonometry). 
 He asked the class not to get any help or hints from 
 the book or otherwise, and related such things about 
 its use, history, and so forth, as to cause the boys to 
 think it would be a great honor to the whole class if 
 any one of them should solve it. 
 
 All eyes and hopes now turned to Nick, and to en- 
 courage him to do his best the boys promised him 
 ever so many presents if he succeeded. "Nick," said 
 Hines, "if you solve that problem I'll pay for your 
 license when you get married." Well, to make a long 
 story short, Nick solved the problem and received 
 all the promised presents. Sixteen years after that 
 he was married, and Hines, then a state senator; 
 made good his promise also. 
 
 A strong feature of the college was the work of the 
 two literary societies, in which a great deal of interest 
 was taken by all the upper classmen. Indeed these 
 societies, with their numerous, intelligent, and 
 wealthy members, dominated the college in a large 
 measure. Such was the trend of the times that the 
 highest goal at which a college man could aim was 
 to be a good speaker or orator. The course of study 
 not only helped to awaken and foster this ideal, but 
 it also trained the students in the means of its attain- 
 
 STOaiES OF DIXIE. — 9 
 
132 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 
 
 ment. Therefore the societies prospered, and some 
 of the members became good speakers in after Hfe. 
 
 In the month of May, 1861, the two societies met 
 one Friday night for joint debate. Nick and Joe ^ 
 were appointed a committee to select the question to 
 be discussed.* The Civil War had now begun, and 
 there was great excitement about it. One company, 
 the "Claiborne Guards," had gone to the war, and 
 there was talk of others going. So Nick and Joe 
 agreed on this question: 
 
 "Resolved that the upper-classmen should resign 
 from the college and go to the war." 
 
 The question was accepted and very ably debated 
 on both sides. The affirmative won, and this served 
 to arouse all the larger boys to action in the matter. 
 There was little sleeping that night, but much earnest 
 talking and planning. The next morning all the 
 larger boys resigned from the college and went to their 
 homes, expecting soon to go to the war. 
 
 * Joe and Nick were classmates, and chums both at college and in 
 the war. In the bloody onslaught at Franklin, Tennessee, Joe, though 
 severely wounded, could not be persuaded to leave the field. Nick, per- 
 ceiving his suffering, approached him and said, "Joe, can I help you in 
 any way.^" 
 
 "No, Nick," said he, "I thank you; but as soon as you can I wish you 
 would look after Colonel Nelson; I fear he is mortally wounded." 
 
 Such was ever his helpful and self-sacrificing disposition. Many 
 years after the war the colonel of the regiment (the lamented T. C. 
 Standifer), speaking of Joe to Nick said, "The South has no better 
 citizen, nor had she a braver soldier." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 THE STORY OF THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 The Irrepressible Conflict 
 
 When it became known that Mr. Lincoln had been 
 elected president of the United States (November, 
 1860) there was great excitement all over the country. 
 It is hard for one, at the present time, to realize how 
 widely the North and the South had become sepa- 
 rated in thought and feeling, especially with regard 
 to certain leading questions and issues. It really 
 seemed that an "irrepressible conflict" had arisen 
 between them. So the Southern states, believing 
 that the Union had become hurtful rather than help- 
 ful to their peace and welfare, resolved to withdraw 
 from it, just as a partner would leave a business con- 
 cern w^hich had ceased to be pleasant and profitable 
 to him. They seceded from the Union (annulled 
 the compact which bound them to it), formed a 
 government of their own, and called it the Confeder- 
 ate States of America. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was an intense unionist; he believed 
 and affirmed that the breaking up of the Union 
 
 133 
 
134 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 would be the greatest evil that could befall all the 
 states. So he determined to preserve the Union at 
 all hazards, and to this end sent an army into the 
 South to quell the "rebellion." 
 
 How little the common people of the two sections 
 really knew of one another — their thoughts, habits, 
 characters, and ideals! This came from their living 
 so far apart, and having no opportunity or means 
 of mutual communication. Their knowledge of one 
 another was based on hearsay, and this was dis- 
 torted by partisans and fanatics. The South mis- 
 judged and undervalued the North in many ways, 
 and evidently Mr. Lincoln himself had a poor idea 
 of southern conditions; for, to subdue the South, he 
 called out 75,000 troops for three months, whereas 
 as a matter of fact it took 2,750,000 soldiers four 
 years to accomplish it. Had the common people 
 North and South known each other better — their 
 patriotism, devotion to the Union, and ideals of right 
 and wrong — probably their differences would have 
 been healed without the cost of so much blood and 
 treasure. 
 
 Nick Goes to War 
 
 It was on a superb spring morning that Nick, with 
 his gun and dog, was strolling through the dark 
 green woods near his father's country home. What 
 
NICK GOES TO WAR 135 
 
 lad would not have been happy under the same con- 
 ditions! For him there had just been substituted 
 outdoor freedom for indoor restraints, hunting for 
 studying, the songs of birds and the murmur of 
 running water for a stillness unrelieved except by 
 the rattle of chalk or the clatter of slate pencils. 
 No sound or sight of the landscape evaded the lad's 
 quickened and responsive senses. A buttercup 
 quivered and bowed under the flutter and weight 
 of a bee extracting its honey; a "news-carrier" 
 (syrphus fly), just arrived from fairyland, poised 
 in mid air and cheered the boy with its fanciful 
 message; a sapsucker flopped from a distant tree 
 to one nearby and ran in dismal spirals about one 
 of its big branches. All nature was "laughing in 
 the madness of joy"; never seemed the sky so blue, 
 the foliage so green, nor the odor of the honeysuckle 
 so sweet. 
 
 It is dreadful how quickly a delightful situation 
 may be changed. Over the hills came the long swell- 
 ing blasts of Uncle Wash's hunting horn. Nick 
 knew at once that it was a call to him to come home. 
 He struck a bee line for the house, feeling that it 
 must be something about the war, for people now 
 thought and talked of little else. At the front 
 gate he met his cousin Billie,^ who lived in the western 
 part of the parish. He was also a lusty lad, a little 
 
136 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 older than Nick, and strong enough to handle a 
 pike. Turning on Nick a cheerful, ruddy face, he 
 said, 
 
 "Nick, we are making up a company to go to the 
 war, and I came all the way over here to get you to 
 join it. It is nearly made up, and you will have to 
 apply soon to get your name on the 
 roll." 
 
 Before replying Nick glanced at 
 his mother. Though her lips were 
 smiling, she looked at him out of 
 deep, sad eyes with no glint of 
 mirth in them. "My son," 
 said she, "you have my con- 
 sent to go, if you so desire." 
 There was a look of anxiety 
 in her clear gray eyes as 
 she added, "This is going 
 to be a more serious affair 
 than our people appear to 
 think; but go, and may God 
 be with you." At the 
 
 time Nick scarcely 
 heeded the expression, 
 but often since he has 
 wondered if it was one 
 of fear or a vision. 
 
 :i;^ 
 
NICK GOES TO WAR 
 
 137 
 
 The next day (Sunday) Nick saw his friend Oat, 
 and told him of his purpose to go with Bilhe to the 
 war. "Nick," said 
 Oat in his usual jest- 
 ing tone and man- 
 ner, "you and Bill 
 will need a guardian, 
 if not a nurse; so I 
 reckon I'd better go 
 along with you." 
 That same day, late 
 in the afternoon, Oat 
 and Nick started on 
 a twenty -five -mile 
 ride, so anxious were they to get their names on 
 the roll. Their route led through Homer. 
 
 With their start also appeared the signs of an 
 approaching tempest. Soon lowering clouds began 
 to chase one another as if mad. The darkness of 
 the night increased as the heavens became more 
 overcast. After a while the fitful flashes of lightning 
 alone revealed the surroundings of the riders, while 
 loud peals of thunder shook the earth and reverber- 
 ated over their heads. Just as they reached the col- 
 lege large drops of rain began to fall. They stopped, 
 hitched their mules, and with their saddles and 
 blankets made pallets on the floor of the college 
 
188 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 hall. Lying on these rough beds and lulled by the 
 roar of wind and rain, they fell asleep. What an 
 experience — the ride, the storm, the bed! What a 
 fitting introduction to the career of the Dixie soldier ! 
 Was it an accident or a harbinger.^ God only knows. 
 
 After a souhd two-hour nap they mounted their 
 mules, continued their journey, and had the joy 
 and honor of being enrolled as members of the 
 "Claiborne Rangers," of which Thomas M. Scott 
 was captain. 
 
 The first day of July, 1861, was fixed as the time 
 for the company to assemble in Homer and start 
 to the war. These were now busy and exciting times. 
 Every soldier was to have a uniform — a round- 
 about coat with large horn buttons — and all the 
 ladies joined in to help make them. The ladies met 
 in groups at different places and there was a great 
 deal of planning, measuring, sewing, and chattering. 
 The young people lived in a fever of excitement. 
 Uncle Wash made Nick a great bowie knife that was 
 nearly a foot long. On the night before the day of 
 departure, Nick was so wrought up in mind that he 
 could scarcely go to sleep. He rose early the next 
 morning, put on his uniform and also his belt, to 
 which was attached a scabbard carrying his big 
 knife. "Ah," thought he, "Mr. Yank had better 
 keep out of my way." His little sister dashed into 
 
NICK GOES TO WAR 
 
 139 
 
 her mother's room and exclaimed, "Mama, Nick 
 looks like the picture of Jack the Giant Killer." 
 
 Homer was full of 
 people on the first of 
 
 July. They had d^!^^ H -/ / 
 
 come m wagons, m 
 buggies, and on 
 horseback from all 
 parts of the parish. 
 Mothers were there 
 to kiss their sons 
 good-by, and pretty 
 girls were there to 
 bid their sweethearts 
 farewell. Drums were beating, bands playing, and 
 flags waving. The boys looked fine and grand in 
 their new uniforms, though scarcely any two of the 
 suits were exactly alike. With their pistols and 
 bowie knives they had quite a warlike air, and a few 
 must bluster some to show their manhood. "Good 
 morning, Henry," said Miss Mary to a friend; "you 
 are just splendid as a soldier;" and Henry would 
 clear his throat and square his shoulders as a real 
 soldier does when commended for valor. 
 
 With a few exceptions all felt and acted as if 
 they were going to a picnic. It was commonly be- 
 lieved that the war would not last loni?. This belief 
 
140 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 was simply a part of the natural optimism of the 
 people. Nick almost prayed that the war would 
 not close before he got into one battle; but after he 
 got into one he then prayed that it would close be- 
 fore he got into another. 
 
 It was sixty miles to the nearest railroad. This 
 distance was to be traveled by the Claiborne Rangers 
 in wagons or on foot. They knew nothing of drilling; 
 this was the first time many of them had ever seen 
 one another. But few had even heard of "fall in." 
 So there was no attempt to form or march them in 
 military order. When they started every fellow 
 went as he pleased. 
 
 When the order was given to march there was 
 much cheering and shaking of hands, and good 
 wishes were showered upon the departing soldiers. 
 Oat said it was really a relief when they had gone so 
 far that friends and relatives could no longer say 
 to them "good-by" and *'God bless you." The poor 
 fellows did not dream that many a long day was 
 to pass before they again saw faces so beaming with 
 looks of love and good will. With Aunt Martha's 
 last embrace of Nick there came a far-away, dreamy 
 look into her eyes. She was staring at him, but he 
 felt himself almost outside the range of her vision. 
 Nick never forgot that look, piercing as it were the 
 realms of the future, and in after years wondered 
 
NICK GOES TO WAR 141 
 
 if she then had a premonition of her own passing 
 away before his return from the war. While her 
 beautiful eyes bespoke fear, anxiety, and sorrow, 
 there was no dimming of the indomitable light that 
 lived in their clear depths. 
 
 There were enough wagons and hacks to haul 
 the entire party, their baskets of food, and their 
 luggage. Some of the men rode and others walked, 
 and when tired of the one they did the other. All 
 along the road, people cheered them with their smiles, 
 kind words, and good wishes, the men waving their 
 hats and the women their handkerchiefs. 
 
 Late in the afternoon they reached the Gee Place, 
 and there they pitched camp for the night. Most of 
 the men had been on camp hunts and camp fishings, 
 and were more or less familiar with camp life. They 
 knew what to do and how to do it to make themselves 
 quite comfortable. There was a great stir and bustle 
 in feeding and watering the stock, preparing and 
 eating supper, and making pallets of blankets and 
 comforts. After that the men became more quiet; 
 they sat in groups on logs or pallets and told stories, 
 cracked jokes, and sang familiar songs. As the night 
 wore away they went by ones or twos "to bed," 
 until none were left. On their rude couches they 
 slept as soundly and as sweetly as if they had been 
 in their soft beds at home. While they slumbered, 
 
142 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 the stars shone brightly in the skies as if keeping 
 watch over them, and the stillness of the night was 
 broken only by the whippoorwill as in the deep 
 shadows of the forest, it poured forth its plaintive 
 call, "chuck, will-widow." 
 
 The men rose early the next morning, fed the 
 stock, prepared and ate breakfast, and continued 
 the march. The scenes and events along the road 
 did not differ much from those of the day before. 
 One mile west of Vienna they passed the old Wafer 
 Place, the home of Nick's maternal great-grand- 
 father. The second night they camped at the "Gum 
 Spring," and the third night, in the courthouse 
 yard of the beautiful city of Monroe. 
 
 A new railroad ran from Monroe to Vicksburg, 
 and this was the first one many of the Rangers had 
 ever seen. Some platform cars were provided with 
 seats made of rough planks, and on these the soldiers 
 were transported from Monroe to Vicksburg. The 
 terminal of the road at that time was DeSoto, a small 
 village just across the river from Vicksburg. It 
 has long since been destroyed by the changes in the 
 channel of the great river. From DeSoto they were 
 ferried across the river to Vicksburg. Here they 
 stopped a few hours, during which time Nick went 
 to an art gallery and had his "ambrotype" taken, a 
 copy of which faces page 18. 
 
CAMP MOORE 143 
 
 From Vicksburg the company went by rail to 
 Jackson, Mississippi, and thence journeyed to Camp 
 Moore, Louisiana. 
 
 Camp Moore 
 
 In the piny woods of Tangipahoa Parish there is a 
 certain old field neglected and overgrown with pine 
 bushes. Thousands have seen it from the passing 
 trains of the Illinois Central without suspecting that 
 it was the site of a great military encampment in the 
 stormy days of '61. Here Camp Moore, named after 
 the governor of Louisiana, was located. Hardly could 
 a more appropriate place for the purpose have been 
 found — seventy-five miles from New Orleans, suffi- 
 ciently rolling for easy drainage, and level enough 
 for military evolutions. Situated as it was in the 
 ozone belt, the air was pure and sweet, and redolent 
 with the odor of fresh pine straw. On one side was 
 Beaver Creek and on the other the Tangipahoa 
 River, both running streams of clear sparkling water. 
 
 Here the sons of Louisiana went to enlist in the 
 army and to be trained in the duties of soldiers. 
 When the war began these sons knew nothing of 
 drilling, guard mounting, and many other duties 
 which alone make men efficient in the camp and on 
 the march and the battle field. Camp Moore was 
 
144 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 established by the state to provide this instruction. 
 In a word, it was a real military school in which 
 
 men were trained for 
 war and formed into 
 battalions and regi- 
 ments. In this school 
 they were kept usu- 
 ally six or eight weeks 
 and then forwarded to 
 the "front," where 
 the fighting was to be 
 done. 
 
 As green and awkward as the Claiborne boys were 
 with respect to drilling, there were three things in 
 military life they could do as well as the drill master: 
 shoot quick and straight, put up tents, and march in 
 "route-step" (go as you please). They marched in 
 this go-as-you-please style from the depot to the 
 camp, — a large drill-ground in front of " a little city of 
 white tents." The grounds were as smooth as a floor 
 and as clean as a newly swept yard, and the white 
 tents were arranged in straight parallel rows. Every- 
 thing seemed to have been designed and finished with 
 a single eye to order and cleanliness. Here and 
 there on the campus were squads of soldiers, each 
 being drilled by an officer who was as straight as an 
 Indian and as " bossy as a new overseer." " Shoulder 
 
CAMP IMOORE 145 
 
 Forward, guide right, march!" "Com- 
 pany, left half wheel, march!" The welkin rang 
 with these and other commands, each having some- 
 thing of the clear crack of a rifle. 
 
 When the Rangers received their tents they at 
 once put them up in two rows, facing one another, 
 and Captain Scott said, "They look as well as any 
 on the grounds." The next day officers were elected, 
 and the company mustered into service for one year. 
 Then they drew guns — all kinds, scarcely any dozen 
 of them being of the same pattern. Thus equipped, 
 they entered upon all the duties of soldiers; namely, 
 drilling, guard mounting every morning, dress parade 
 every afternoon, policing, inspections, cleaning quar- 
 ters, washing clothes, drawing rations, cooking and 
 eating the frugal meals. 
 
 When a regiment was formed and sent to the 
 "front" its place was soon filled by new companies 
 coming in from all parts of the state. A few of these 
 were Irish, more French, and still more English. 
 Ten of the English companies from North-Central 
 Louisiana, including the Claiborne Rangers, were 
 formed into a regiment, known as the l^th Regi- 
 ment, Louisiana Infantry. Of this regiment Captain 
 Scott, of the Rangers, was elected Colonel. 
 
 The 12th was formed of a thousand young men — 
 stalwart, muscular, dauntless hobbledehoys. They 
 
146 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 were the sons of lawyers, doctors, business men, and 
 farmers, and having been reared largely in Christian 
 homes they had that pride and morale which make 
 men towers of strength in peace and in war. Of 
 course their military potency could not be estimated 
 before training and trial, but there was the assurance 
 in advance that "blood will tell"; for there flowed in 
 their veins the blood of the heroes of Hastings and 
 Marston Moor, Valley Forge and Yorktown, Horse 
 Shoe Bend and New Orleans, Buena Vista and 
 Chapultepec. 
 
 It was a short walk from camp to the Tangipahoa 
 River, and early in the morning and late in the after- 
 noon the soldiers were permitted to go there to bathe 
 and swim. This was much enjoyed by all, and every 
 day the river was lined with the jolly and noisy swim- 
 mers. Indeed, throughout the war, the range of 
 their pleasures being so narrow, the men went in the 
 creeks, mill ponds, and rivers whenever they had a 
 chance, even in pretty cold weather, that being about 
 their only pastime. They often took their soiled 
 clothes, washed them, and spread them on the bushes 
 to dry, while they bathed and played in the water. 
 
 It was at Camp Moore that Nick learned to swim. 
 That was queer, for, as a rule, Louisiana boys take 
 to water almost as soon as they can walk. But after 
 that, Nick made up for lost time by swimming in, if 
 
CAMP MOORE 
 
 147 
 
 not across, nearly every stream between that place 
 and the Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 When the men neglected duty or violated the rules 
 they were punished in severe and singular ways. A 
 soldier once stale something, and was punished for it 
 by having to wear a board fastened to his back on 
 which was printed ROGUE. Often a culprit was 
 punished by having to wear a barrel, or being tied 
 up by the thumbs, or put in stocks or a 
 pillory. 
 
 As a rule, it was only the rowdies who 
 had to be treated in this way. The men 
 generally did their duties cheerfully and 
 faithfully. As the war progressed the 
 roughs, rowdies, and bullies gradually 
 "played out." It is men of moral courage 
 that make dependable and enduring sol- 
 diers. Hence punishments became 
 fewer as the war went on. 
 
 There was an Irishman in the 11th 
 regiment named Kelly, who was 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 10 
 
148 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 punished for drunkenness by being put under guard 
 with a chain and ball attached to his ankle. Kelly 
 had been a steamboat roustabout, and was a giant 
 in size and strength. Nick happened to be on 
 guard that day and had to guard Kelly. Now 
 the big Irishman, moved by a spirit of humor or 
 desperation, seemed to be watching for a chance to 
 spring on Nick and beat the life out of him. So every 
 time he moved down would come Nick's gun. It 
 was loaded with an ounce ball and Kelly knew it. 
 When the corporal of the guard came, Kelly said to 
 him in a whisper: "Would ye be after putting a man 
 in the place of that spalpeen of a lad.^ The little cuss 
 has got so he won't let me turn over." 
 
 Nick was as glad to go as Kelly was to have him go. 
 
 Exposure and other causes produced much sickness 
 among the troops. At the beginning of the war each 
 camp was supplied with a hospital in which the sick 
 were cared for. In it were clean beds, medicines, and 
 nurses, and many ladies came with flowers and deli- 
 cacies for the patients. But year by year, as the war 
 went on, camp hospitals became poorer and the 
 medicines scarcer, until they really disappeared al- 
 together. At first the chief kind of sickness was 
 measles, which is usually a harmless disease, but a 
 very fatal one when the subject is exposed. More 
 men died of it during the war than of all other dis- 
 
CAMP MOORE 
 
 149 
 
 eases together. It caused the death of more than a 
 dozen of the Claiborne Rangers at Camp Moore. 
 
 Many of the bodies of 
 deceased soldiers were 
 taken to their homes for 
 burial, and the rest were 
 interred on a mound in 
 the woods nearby. The 
 latter were buried with 
 military honors; that is, 
 the remains were es- 
 corted to the graveyard 
 by a squad of soldiers, 
 and when the body was 
 put in the ground the 
 squad fired three rounds 
 of blank cartridges over 
 the grave. It was a 
 very sad and impressive 
 service. 
 
 The site of Camp 
 Moore is now^ an old and 
 deserted field. All signs 
 of the camp are gone. 
 There is nothing left to 
 remind one of the stirring scenes of '61. 
 
 Instead of 
 
 the merry laugh and heavy tramp of soldiers, one 
 
150 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 
 
 now hears the "mournful song" of the pine straw 
 as it is swept by the passing breeze. 
 
 Many years after the w^ar the Daughters of the 
 Confederacy induced the legislature to appropriate 
 enough money to buy the old graveyard, clean it off, 
 build a strong iron fence around it, and erect a monu- 
 ment in memory of the men, living and dead, who 
 served there. When the monument was unveiled 
 (1907) Nick, then a professor in the state university, 
 made the dedication speech. 
 
 Two large beech trees were left standing in the in- 
 closure on account of the many names of the soldiers 
 cut into their bark. Among these old carvings Nick's 
 attention was called to his own initials, "J. W. N.," 
 which were probably cut by him just forty-six years 
 before. 
 
 In the latter part of August the 12th was ordered 
 to "the front." With what a thrill of excitement was 
 the order received by the men ! At last their hopes of 
 getting into a battle were to be realized! Up to this 
 time they had had no news to write home except 
 the details of camp life. Now they were to go far 
 away into Kentucky, where the storm of war would 
 soon be raging. 
 
 There was a great hurry and bustle in preparing to 
 move — taking down tents, packing luggage, and 
 cooking three days' rations. When they boarded 
 
CAMP MOORE 151 
 
 the train each man carried a knapsack, a haversack, 
 a canteen, two blankets, and a gun and cartridge 
 box. It was a long freight train that was to carry 
 them, and some took passage in and some on top of 
 the box cars. When it "pulled out" a long and loud 
 hurrah was shouted by a thousand jolly fellows. 
 Poor boys ! They little dreamed of the hardships and 
 privations in store for them. 
 
 NOTE. It is not the intention of this book to give any ac- 
 count of the battles and conOicts of the War between the States. 
 As to how the Dixie boys acquitted themselves as soldiers is 
 briefly told in the following tribute to them by General Early: 
 
 "I believe the world has never produced a body of men su- 
 perior, in courage, patriotism, and endurance, to the private 
 soldiers of the Confederate armies. I have repeatedly seen those 
 soldiers submit with cheerfulness to privations and hardships 
 which would appear to be almost incredible; and the wild cheers 
 of these brave men when their lines sent back the opposing host 
 of Federal troops, staggering, reeling, and flying, have often 
 thrilled every fibre in my heart. I have seen, with my own 
 eyes, ragged, barefooted, and hungry Confederate soldiers 
 perform deeds, which, if performed in days of yore, by mailed 
 warriors in glittering armor, would have inspired the harp of 
 the minstrel and the pen of the poet." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 THE STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 Minor Incidents 
 
 Many things occur in wars of which history makes 
 no mention. As a rule, it tells of the greater and not 
 of the smaller events. Yet the latter are the happen- 
 ings that young people like most to hear about. 
 Stories of little incidents of the camp, the march, and 
 the battle not only make pleasant reading, but give 
 one a good idea of the temper of the soldiers and the 
 kind of men they were. 
 
 The idea of war which one gets from history is that 
 it is a series of severe ills and toils. This is true, and 
 probably no soldiers ever realized it more keenly than 
 the Confederates during the War between the States. 
 Yet old soldiers say they had as many hearty laughs 
 during that war as they ever had in any other four 
 years of their lives. So war must have something 
 of an amusing as well as a serious side. Fortunate is 
 the soldier who has the "saving grace of humor" 
 through and by which this funny side is discernible. 
 
 Few armies have had a greater number of wits 
 
 152 
 
MINOR INCIDENTS 153 
 
 than the Confederate. However tired, hungry, and 
 thirsty the men might be, however long the march, or 
 hard the battle, or gloomy the outlook, some one 
 would see the "funny side" of it, and so express it 
 as to put the others to smiling if not laughing. No 
 doubt this reviving and stimulating of the spirits and 
 morale of the men went far to supply the want of food 
 and medicine. Indeed, it is believed that this merri- 
 ment had much to do in making the Dixie boys the 
 splendid soldiers they were — enabling them to pro- 
 long the struggle against such great odds and with 
 such scanty means. 
 
 A regiment was once passing through a small vil- 
 lage. The men had been marching and fighting, 
 more or less, for several days. They were not only 
 tired, thirsty, and hungry, but their backs were chafed 
 by the straps which supported their cartridge boxes, 
 canteens, and haversacks. It was a hot summer day, 
 and the only noise that broke the silence in ranks was 
 the heavy grinding of the men's feet as they pulled 
 their way through the deep dry sand. As they passed 
 near a church where a negro was tolling the bell one 
 of the men, in a husky voice, inquired, 
 
 ''Hello, boy; what are you ringing that bell for.^" 
 
 "Somebody dead," said the negro. 
 
 "Well," said the soldier, "strike her a few licks for 
 me, for I'm nearly dead." 
 
154 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 Weary and worn, with the prospect of a fight just 
 ahead of them, some Confederate soldiers were pass- 
 ing a cotton factory in North CaroHna. One of the 
 men, glancing at the lofty stack chimney, exclaimed, 
 "I wonder how they ever built that tall chimney?" 
 "I can tell you," replied Jim ^^; "they first built 
 the hole in it, and then built the chimney around the 
 hole." 
 
 After a hard day's march a regiment pitched camp 
 
 near a small village. Soon 
 a negro boy entered the 
 camp with a note from the 
 young ladies of the village 
 inviting "the young men of 
 the regiment" to a dance 
 that evening. The 
 boys at once got 
 
 r jjji] 
 
MINOR INCIDENTS 155 
 
 busy, washing off their old shoes, patching and 
 brushing their coats and trousers, and pulHng the 
 tangles out of their hair with currycombs. 
 
 On going into the dance hall the boys found the 
 girls assembled at one end of the room, and they soon 
 gathered at the other end. And there they were with 
 no one to introduce them. 
 
 At last one of the fellows walked up to a pretty 
 girl and, with a smile in his eyes, very gallantly 
 asked, "Miss, may I have the first dance with 
 you.?" 
 
 Very gracefully she said, "Why, I don't know 
 you." 
 
 "Well," said he, "you don't take any more chances 
 than I do." 
 
 General Richard Taylor entered the Confederate 
 Army as colonel of a regiment made up almost en- 
 tirely of French boys from South Louisiana. Upon 
 reaching Richmond he was ordered to report to Gen- 
 eral Stonewall Jackson. Taylor found the redoubt- 
 able Stonewall sitting on a fence and sucking a lemon. 
 The regiment halted, stacked arms, and disbanded. 
 Then the band struck up a lively tune, and the gay 
 Creoles, although having just finished a long and 
 hard march, paired off and began a jolly dance. 
 
 "Very gay men for serious work," said Stonewall 
 to Taylor. 
 
156 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 "I hope they will be none the less good soldiers 
 on account of their gayety," said the colonel. 
 
 General Jackson 
 shook his head as if 
 he thought, "I 
 don't see how that 
 can be." 
 
 Whereupon Col- 
 onel Taylor is re- 
 ported to have said, 
 "General Jackson, 
 French soldiers, just 
 such as these, have 
 whipped the men and kissed the women all over the 
 world." 
 
 One dark night Ben ^ stumbled up to a dim firelight 
 around which a number of soldiers were standing, 
 sitting, or lying. The darkness was intense, it being 
 both a cloudy and a moonless night. 
 
 ''Boys," said Ben, *'I met the blackest negro awhile 
 ago I ever saw." 
 
 *'Bah, Ben," exclaimed one of the men; "how could 
 you see a negro or anything else in such pitch- 
 darkness as this.f^" 
 
 "I saw him," said Ben, "by the very absence of his 
 color; he was so black he looked like a hole in the 
 darkness." 
 
A FISH STORY 157 
 
 A Fish Story 
 
 When one begins to tell a fish story the listener is 
 apt to think, "Whatever you say will sound like a 
 lie; so it doesn't really matter." In the present in- 
 stance the facts are at least less exaggerated than in 
 the old story where "they bit so fast one had to stand 
 behind a tree to bait his hook." 
 
 On May 15, 1863, the 12th was camped on the 
 Big Black River just above the point where it is 
 crossed by the railroad running from Vicksburg 
 through Jackson, Mississippi. The immense army 
 under Gen. Grant, having effected a landing at 
 Grand Gulf, and forced its way through the interior 
 to Jackson, w^as now faced toward the west, and 
 slowly investing the Confederate forces under Gen. 
 Pemberton. A great battle was drawing near in 
 which the Dixie Army would either have to cut its 
 way through the much larger army of Gen. Grant or 
 be driven back into the intrenchments of Vicksburg. 
 
 At this critical moment an event occurred which 
 shows how little the Dixie boys were disposed to 
 brood over coming troubles and impending disasters. 
 About a mile from the camp of the 12th were a 
 number of lagoons, and on the morning of the 15th 
 it became known that these abounded in fish, large 
 and small. How this discovery was made by the 
 
158 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 men is not known. It is wonderful what news- 
 gatherers they were, especially in reference to "grub." 
 Soon the way to the lagoons was crowded with the 
 would-be fishermen. Never had they gone to a picnic 
 with more exhilarating zest, nor did they ever charge 
 the "Yankees" with grimmer deter- 
 mination. 
 
 The lakelets were found to be about 
 
 fifty feet wide and three feet deep. The 
 
 question at once arose as to how the 
 
 fish might be caught. The boys had no 
 
 fishing tackle — lines, hooks, seines, or 
 
 gigs. But here, as in many other cases, 
 
 necessity was the mother of invention. 
 
 Some one suggested how "seines" might 
 
 be made of vines; viz., get a long vine 
 
 and wrap it with other vines, thus 
 
 forming a roll some fifty feet long, three 
 
 feet thick in the middle, and tapering 
 
 to points at the ends. 
 
 There were plenty of 
 
 vines in the swamp, 
 
 plenty of men to do the 
 
 work, and the only 
 
 necessary tools were 
 
 pocket knives. Soon 
 
 the woods were ahve 
 
 *-j:i^^=^^^^B' '' 
 
A FISH STORY 159 
 
 with the hum of industry and a new manufactory in 
 process of operation. 
 
 The moment a seine was finished it was seized by 
 a score of lusty fellows, who, stripped of their clothes, 
 dragged it into the lagoon, and pushed or pulled it 
 across, from side to side, just as an ordinary seine 
 would have been used. With the seine pressed hard 
 against the bottom of the lakelet, the openings be- 
 tween the vines being too small to allow the passage 
 of large fish through them, there were landed at each 
 haul a number of buffalo and catfish, and along with 
 these were often one or more turtles and moccasins. 
 The boys entered into the sport with the zest of 
 picnickers. They continued to seine "hole" after 
 "hole," as long as there was a prospect for more fish 
 and more fun. 
 
 At last they started to camp, carrying many buf- 
 falo fish weighing from one to three pounds. So 
 covered were they with black sticky mud that the 
 identity of each and all was destroyed except for his 
 form and voice. Before reaching camps they went 
 to the river to wash themselves and the fish. Scarcely 
 had they done this " next-to-Godly " act when the 
 "long roll" called them to "fall in." The regiment 
 was soon on 'the march, many of the men having one 
 or more buffaloes dangling from their haversacks. 
 
 It was a hot day, and the fish became "heavier and 
 
160 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 heavier"; so, one by one, they were dropped by the 
 roadside, until the entire catch was strewn along the 
 road for a distance of probably ten miles. That 
 night, after a long and hard march, the regiment 
 "slept on arms" in a cornfield. The next day, 
 May 16, the battle of Baker's Creek, or Champion 
 Hill, was fought, into which the fishermen entered as 
 actively, though not as pleasantly, as in the fishing 
 frolic of the day before. At the first roll call after 
 the battle there were many vacant places in the 
 ranks — some of the fishermen too had fallen. Brave, 
 noble boys! May your ashes rest in peace, is the 
 prayer of one of the few surviving seiners. 
 
 A Confederate Scout 
 
 Of the boys who attended the old Forest Grove 
 school, already described, none could run faster and 
 longer or jump further and higher than Wafe.'^ He 
 was not much of a bookworm, but in athletics, 
 hilarity, and mischief he led the school — always 
 played deer in the "game of deer," and alwa^^s knew 
 every boy's speech except his own. Good-natured, 
 generous, and courageous, yet he was a genius in de- 
 vising mischief and getting other boys into awkward, 
 embarrassing, and scary situations. It is queer how 
 he maintained his popularity with all classes — was 
 hked even by the victims of his roughest jokes. As a 
 
A CONFEDERATE SCOUT 
 
 161 
 
 V— J^ 
 
 'K%^ "^W 
 
 rider and shot a Texas Ranger was not more daring 
 or skillful. 
 
 Wafe was the brother of Syranus, of w^hom a story 
 is told later on, and he 
 (Wafe) is the father 
 of Chappell, a re- 
 cent graduate of Tu- 
 lane University, who 
 was widely known in 
 college circles as one 
 of the greatest all- 
 round athletes the 
 South has produced. 
 How queerly heredity 
 works! In many particulars the brothers were as 
 dissimilar as the father and son are alike. 
 
 When the war broke out Wafe enlisted and served 
 in the cavalry. Upon the fall of Vicksburg General 
 Johnston, commanding the Confederate forces, fell 
 back to Jackson, and was pursued by General Sher- 
 man, commanding a corps of the Federal Army. 
 After a severe encounter at Jackson, Johnston re- 
 treated to Newton Station, and was again followed 
 by Sherman. 
 
 Now the Confederate leader, desiring to know 
 whether or not his antagonist intended to pursue him 
 farther across the country, determined to send a scout 
 
162 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 around Sherman's army to ascertain, among other 
 things, the size of his wagon train. To this end he in- 
 structed the commander of the cavalry to send him 
 an efficient trooper, — a cavaher of tried courage, 
 sagacity, and rehability. Wafe was at once selected 
 and ordered to report to General Johnston. 
 
 Some of Wafe's close friends learned of the project, 
 and in discussing the perilous adventure Joe ^ said, 
 
 "Well, if Wafe is provided with a good horse he'll 
 come out all right." 
 
 Billie, who had chased Wafe in many a "game of 
 deer," thus replied, "In any case of emergency, 
 whether he has a horse or not, if he can only get a 
 fair start I defy the whole Yankee army to catch 
 him." 
 
 Without going into details, suffice it to say Wafe 
 made the circuit, and discharged the service with 
 consummate tact and daring. Venturing into critical 
 positions in order to get full and accurate informa- 
 tion, he had several hairbreadth escapes. 
 
 Returning, he made his report to General Johnston, 
 who correctly divined from it that Sherman would 
 push the invasion no further, and so notified the 
 president of the Confederacy. Taking Wafe by the 
 hand he said: "I congratulate you on the success of 
 your mission, and thank you for your valuable serv- 
 ices." 
 
STORIES OF OAT 163 
 
 Wafe is still living, hale and healthy. While he is 
 not so great a tease as in the olden times, yet Nick 
 would not now "go in swimming" with him without 
 some assurance that Wafe would not "duck" him. 
 
 Stories of Oat 
 
 This is not the first time the reader has heard of 
 Oat, one of Nick's close and lifelong friends. Once 
 when the 12th was camped near Grenada, Missis- 
 sippi, the colonel sent for Nick and Oat and said, 
 
 "Nick, I wish you and Oat to go to Jackson to ob- 
 tain some clothing and blankets for the regiment. 
 You can leave on the train this afternoon, which will 
 put you in Jackson about eleven to-night." 
 
 In handing them their permits and orders for the 
 supplies he added, "Now, you men will have to be 
 very careful in Jackson as to where you go, for the 
 smallpox is said to be raging in all parts of the city." 
 
 When Oat and Nick reached Jackson it was very 
 dark, cold, and rainy. There were no hotels or board- 
 ing houses to go to, so they at once set out to find 
 some kind of shelter that would at least protect them 
 from the rain. After strolling around in the darkness 
 for some time they came upon an old rickety box car 
 standing on a sidetrack. 
 
 "This will do," said Oat. 
 
 STORIES OP DIXIE. — 11 
 
164 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 They grasped the heavy shutter of the door and 
 were sHding it back, when some one within shouted, 
 "Who's that?" 
 
 "Two soldiers looking for shelter," replied Oat. 
 
 "You had better stay out of here," said the voice 
 within; "there are two cases of smallpox in here." 
 
 "That's all right," said Oat; "we've got the small- 
 pox too." 
 
 "The devil you say ! Well — you fellows stand aside 
 till we get out." 
 
 So Oat and Nick stood aside; the fellows within 
 crawled out and scampered off to parts unknown. 
 
 As they stretched out on their hard and lonely 
 couch Oat said, "Nick, the greatest thing in this 
 world is bluff; it has more to do with a man's success, 
 in peace and in war, than any other one thing." 
 
 As a rule, the Dixie soldiers w^ere always hungry — 
 at least hungry for some "good old home-cooked 
 food." Citizens living near a camp of soldiers, being 
 so often called upon by the troops for one favor or 
 
STORIES OF OAT 165 
 
 another, especially food, were so stripped of every- 
 thing that they had less and less to give, and less and 
 less disposition to do so. One day Oat and Nick 
 walked far into the interior, hoping to secure a good 
 meal at some remote place that had not been an- 
 noyed and "eaten out" by the soldiers. 
 
 Stopping in front of a house, Nick said, "Now, Oat, 
 you do the talking." 
 
 In response to Oat's loud "Hello" a lady came out 
 on the front gallery, and the "gallant soldiers" 
 bowed very low to her, wishing her to know how much 
 better their manners were than their garments. 
 
 "Madam," said Oat, "we are so hungry we feel 
 as if we were hollow from our mouths to our feet. 
 Can't you let us have something to eat.^" 
 
 "My friends," said the lady, "there is nothing 
 cooked on this place, and there is very little to cook. 
 We women have a hard time trying to make a living 
 with our sons and husbands in the war. Truly, if I 
 had it I would divide the last morsel with you." 
 
 "Madam," said Oat, "we beheve you, and wish we 
 had the means of helping you. Please pardon us for 
 this intrusion. Good-by." 
 
 The two soldiers raised their hats, and were walking 
 quietly away, when the lady said, "My friends, I 
 have a large quantity of fine peaches which I have 
 just picked for drying purposes. If you like good 
 
166 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 peaches, and will come in, you may have all you 
 wish." 
 
 In a moment Oat and Nick were in the house. 
 
 They found one of 
 the rooms to be full 
 of large cotton bas- 
 kets, and each of 
 these was filled with 
 choice peaches. Fol- 
 lowing a suggestion 
 of the lady it did not 
 take the boys long to 
 slide a basket out 
 into the hall, take 
 their seats by it, and begin to eat. Truly, as Oat 
 said subsequently, they "laid up for the future as a 
 camel does for the desert journey; peaches passed 
 from sight under their manipulations as eggs do in 
 a sleight of hand performance." 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said the lady, "some of those 
 peaches are very fine; look over them and select the 
 best." 
 
 Then Oat, laying down his knife, looking and speak- 
 ing very earnestly, and as if to relieve her of all 
 anxiety in the matter, said, "My dear madam, it 
 don't really make any difference 'cause we are going 
 to eat 'em all anyhow." 
 
STORIES AND HARDSHIPS 167 
 
 General John B. Gordon told a good story of a 
 soldier in his old regiment whose leg was so shattered 
 by the fragment of a bomb that it had to be ampu- 
 tated. He was discharged from the army and went 
 home. But as soon as he was able to walk with the 
 aid of crutches he returned to the army and reen- 
 listed, determined to help the cause in any way he 
 could. One night, shortly after his return, he at- 
 tended a prayer meeting. The chaplain led the serv- 
 ices, and in his prayer he implored, "O Lord, give 
 our men more zeal, more courage, more fortitude, 
 and " 
 
 Just here he was interrupted by the one-legged 
 soldier, who said, 
 
 "Ah, parson, youVe got that all wrong; we have 
 a plenty of all that; what we want you to pray for is 
 more ammunition and provisions; let Him give us 
 these and we'll attend to all the rest." 
 
 Not many soldiers in ancient or modern times ever 
 did more hard service, and on such meager supplies, 
 than the Confederates. Throughout many a long 
 campaign they had not a change of clothes. The 
 , same coats, trousers, and shoes were w^orn summer 
 and winter, and one can well imagine how thin 
 and ragged they became. During the last two 
 years of the war there were no tents, and the only 
 means the men had of protecting themselves from 
 
168 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 rain and cold was the few blankets they could 
 pack. 
 
 The main cooking vessels were frying pans and 
 
 light camp kettles, 
 and these the men 
 often carried by hand 
 or suspended to their 
 belts. The usual 
 food was corn bread, 
 made of unsifted 
 meal, about a half ra- 
 tion of poor beef, 
 and red pepper, of 
 " '""^^ which latter there 
 
 was always plenty. When the pones of bread be- 
 came hard and dry, as they did when two or three 
 days old, they were soaked in water, cooked into 
 mush, and seasoned with red pepper. This choice (.^) 
 dish was called "cush." The men were usually so 
 hungry that to them cush was real good food. Nick 
 often thought, "If I ever get home I am going to 
 have Aunt Kitty to cook me as much cush as I want." 
 During the Tennessee campaign under General 
 Hood the army suffered very much from toil, cold, 
 and hunger. Once, while on the retreat, Nick was 
 trudging along with the remnant of the 12th, and 
 wondering if he could find some waste grains of corn 
 
AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 169 
 
 where horses had been fed. Jim coming in from the 
 rear, put his hand on Nick's shoulder and asked him 
 in a whisper, "Nick, do you Hke chicken pie?" 
 
 Nick was at once interested, thinking or hoping 
 that maybe Jim ^^ had somewhere and somehow ob- 
 tained some of that good old Georgia dish. With an 
 intense anxiety he asked also in a whisper, 
 "Jim, tell me truly, why do you ask that.^" 
 "Well," quietly replied Jim, "I didn't think you 
 did, for I never see you eating any." 
 
 An Interrupted Oration 
 
 Some men are cut out for one thing and some for 
 another. A great lawyer might have made a poor 
 mechanic and a good farmer an indifferent surgeon. 
 That a man is unequal to a certain duty or office is 
 often no reflection on his gifts; probably he is far 
 superior intellectually to him who is so fitted. One 
 can hardly think of a greater misfit than Charles J. 
 Fox or Lord Byron as a commander and trainer of a 
 military company. Every old soldier of any war 
 knows that leadership in social and civil life is no 
 assurance of leadership in military life; and vice 
 versa. 
 
 In the Southern army were many brilliant young 
 men who had been reared in wealthy and cultured 
 
170 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 homes, and educated in the best schools of the coun- 
 try — high hvers and good fellows every inch of them, 
 thoroughly at home in the parlor, on the rostrum, 
 and in the salons of fashionable circles, and every- 
 where racy, charming, and without vanity. Yet 
 many of them never attained to mihtary rank or dis- 
 tinction, partly because they were not fitted by habits 
 or temperament for oflSce, but mostly because they 
 cared but little, if at all, for it. They regarded oflSce, 
 in its lower aspects, somewhat as they did that of 
 overseer on their father's plantation. To be first 
 among equals they considered w^orth while, but power 
 and command over the masses was to them "the 
 tawdry eminence that bosses crave and shallow snob- 
 bish people admire." To them the petty detail of the 
 service was drudgery and its pomp and show mum- 
 mery. The battle, especially a dashing and hazardous 
 charge, was the one thing which broke the monotony 
 and into which they entered with gusto, if not with 
 thrilling delight. 
 
 One of these cultured, rollicking fellows was 
 Syranus ^^ — handsome, graceful, and full of laughter, 
 song and story. He had at least one weakness — a 
 weakness then common to all of his kind: he some- 
 times drank too much "booze" and became tipsy. 
 When in this "happy state" his first and main 
 thought was to make a speech. 
 
AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 171 
 
 During the "hundred-days fight" from Dalton to 
 Atlanta Syranus was on detail in the commissary 
 department, and for the time took no part in the 
 fighting except when he slipped away to participate 
 in a battle. This he did now and then, being a good 
 mixture of the fighter and the dreamer. One day he 
 got some "Louisiana rum," became tipsy, and made 
 his way to the front where the men were stationed 
 behind a high breastwork. It was near Marietta, 
 Georgia. 
 
 "Boys," said he, addressing mainly his old friends, 
 "I came out here — hie — to make a speech — hie — to 
 those Yankees over there in front of the works — 
 hie — and my purpose is to bring this crazy war to a 
 close — hie — *' 
 
 His friends, thinking it all swagger, paid but little 
 attention to him and less to his silly proposition. 
 Almost unnoticed by them he mounted the breast- 
 work and in a clear, ringing voice began: 
 
 "Gentlemen of the United States, — hie — I re- 
 spectfully ask your earnest attention for a few 
 moments. — hie — My purpose is to pave the way to 
 the closing of this cruel war. — hie — I would assure 
 you on the honor of a gentleman — hie — that it is 
 quite a difl'erent thing to live in Boston and gossip 
 of raids into the South and to live in the South and 
 experience them. — hie — " 
 
172 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 Two of his cousins, Joe ^ and Billie,^ knowing the 
 great danger he was in, seized him by the legs and 
 
 were about to pull 
 
 U^^^^ ^ him off the works, 
 -_?A?^-^ when he turned his 
 
 _ ..^^j^^^~^^-i.^^s|^ and said, "Now, 
 
 ^^<""" %^^'^^ boys, I insist that 
 
 ^^'^^^ /tl% \E you permit me to 
 
 '^ ^^^S ^^^&^S^?^ ^^«M so on; I know what 
 
 -^^f^^,^__,. \^^^ -' I'm doing — hie— , 
 
 " ^^ ^ ' and—" 
 
 "Bang," went a gun out in front, and "whack," 
 the ball hit Syranus in the back. 
 
 It then took no more coaxing or pulling to get him 
 off the works; the speech and also the drunk were 
 brought to a sudden close. 
 
 Fortunately Syranus was wearing a belt, and still 
 more fortunately the ball struck it and, hitting it a 
 glancing blow, inflicted only a severe bruise. The 
 next morning Joe ^ and Nick, both cousins of Syranus, 
 called to see him. 
 
 "Syranus," said Joe, "what could have possessed 
 you to do a thing so silly and foolhardy.^" 
 
 "Joe," replied Syranus, "drink not only blunts 
 my sense of fear but inclines me to give expres- 
 sion to my most serious thoughts. Lately I have 
 
AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 173 
 
 been brooding over the silliness, incongruities, and 
 injustice of this war, and I suppose it was of that 
 that I desired to speak." 
 
 *'Tell us," said Nick, "just what you mean by all 
 that." 
 
 "Well, briefly, it is this: at least half of the men in 
 the Southern Army, although fighting in a way for 
 secession, do not believe in it. Indeed, they made 
 the political fight of their lives to defeat it. 
 
 "Again, as you are aware, a large proportion of the 
 slave owners of the South, including all our kith and 
 kin and such representative men as Judge McGehee,* 
 are in favor of freeing the negroes, provided it be 
 done by the plan of 'gradual emancipation.' By 
 that method the negroes could be prepared for 
 freedom, and in the meantime the South could work 
 out of the labor system in and by which all her 
 agricultural, commercial, and educational wa3^s and 
 means have been molded and operated for genera- 
 tions. 
 
 " Furthermore, that humane and rational method 
 of freeing the negroes would conserve the kind 
 and sympathetic relation which, in general, has 
 always existed between the two races in the South. 
 In any event, the singular situation is that we 
 are fighting to break up the union and perpetuate 
 
 * Judge McGehee probably had more slaves than any man in the South. 
 
174 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 slavery, when we are in a way opposed to both 
 these projects." 
 
 "If the partisans and fanatics," continued he, 
 "could have been set aside and the common people. 
 North and South, could have been brought into a 
 free and full conference over the questions at issue, I 
 believe the Union could have been preserved and 
 that the negroes could have been freed without any 
 war. But this, I suppose, was impracticable and 
 therefore impossible. One thing, however, is very 
 clear to my mind and that is, the Federal Gov- 
 ernment should at least have tried to follow the ex- 
 ample set by Great Britain in freeing her slaves — 
 buy them and set them free." 
 
 "It seems to me," continued he, "that such a 
 course was recommended by every consideration 
 of justice, equity, and law. Evidently the North 
 and the South were alike responsible for the 'in- 
 stitution of slavery' in this country; the 'system' 
 grew up under the fostering care of the Constitu- 
 tion itself; if it is a crime it is one that the South 
 has incontrovertibly inherited from the founders of 
 the republic; if the world has awakened to a sense 
 of its inhumanity and immorality the Government 
 should not have lost sight of its obligations in the 
 matter, but should have sought to eliminate the evil 
 by correct and honorable business methods." 
 
AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 175 
 
 "Syranus," said Joe, ''suppose Mr. Lincoln, im- 
 mediately after his election or before the Southern 
 States began to secede, had announced that as 
 his policy, that is, to have the Government pay 
 the South a fair sum for the slaves and then set 
 them free, do you think the South would have ac- 
 cepted the offer?" 
 
 "I do not," said Syranus; "the Southern States 
 were then and are now contending for a principle 
 rather than an institution — the right to control 
 their own affairs in accordance with and under the 
 guarantees of the Constitution. But I do believe 
 that Mr. Lincoln would thereby have made a fa- 
 vorable impression on the Southern people, and 
 probably have prevented the secession of the South- 
 ern States. There was already intense opposition 
 to secession throughout the South; most of the 
 Southern States seceded by only small majorities, 
 and I doubt not that Mr. Lincoln could have de- 
 feated it, at least in some instances, by the mani- 
 festation of such an unmistakable evidence of fair- 
 ness to the South. 
 
 "I may be unduly prejudiced in the matter, but 
 it is hard for me to reconcile his failure to do so 
 with his undoubted good judgment, independence of 
 thought and action, sense of fair play, and great good 
 nature." 
 
176 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 The Confederate Army Starts for Tennessee 
 
 At the close of the "hundred-days fight" the Fed- 
 eral Army, under General Sherman, had possession 
 of Atlanta, while the Confederate Army, now under 
 General Hood, toil-worn and battle-scarred, was lying 
 near Jonesborough, just south of Atlanta. On 
 September 18, 1864, General Hood's army left that 
 place, and started on the long march into Tennessee. 
 Soon after that General Sherman's army started on 
 what is called *'The march to the sea." Thus the 
 two armies moved off in nearly opposite directions. 
 By that time the South had put in service all its 
 available men; indeed, as General Grant said, it had 
 *' robbed the cradle and the grave" to strengthen 
 its armies. So General Sherman in his march to the 
 sea had little more to dispute his way than defense- 
 less old men, women and children. 
 
 The route of the Confederate Army led across 
 northern Georgia, thence across northern Alabama, 
 and thence into Tennessee, crossing the Tennessee 
 River on a pontoon bridge near Florence. The army 
 passed through the battle ground of New Hope 
 Church and the sites of other battles of the "hundred- 
 days fight." These scenes of conflict were now sad 
 sights. When the battles were fought, mostly in 
 
THE ARMY STARTS FOR TENNESSEE 177 
 
 June and July, the trees were covered with green 
 leaves; but nearly all the trees, large and small, 
 were killed by musket and cannon balls in the 
 fierce combats; so that the once lovely forests now 
 looked like old deadenings; they were still covered 
 with foliage, but it was brown and crisp. Not a 
 cow, hog, chicken, or even a 
 bird could be seen. Scattering 
 stalks of green corn, oats and 
 barley were growing in the 
 woods from seeds dropped by 
 the armies in feeding the stock. 
 These green plants, so attract- 
 ive under normal conditions, 
 were here silent mementos of 
 the ravages of war. 
 
 One beautiful afternoon the 
 army pitched camp near the 
 Etowah River. The water was 
 clear, and sang with a sweet 
 murmur as it flowed between ^ 
 its clean and pebble-lined 
 banks. Several of the men 
 went to the river with 
 their canteens to get a 
 supply of water for the --'^'"'^^■^k- 
 night. Nick was in the 
 
178 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 party, and as he neared 
 the stream he saw 
 something floating in 
 the water which he 
 thought might be valu- 
 able. It had lodged 
 against a large rock in 
 the middle of the river. 
 Quietly but quickly his coat and shoes were "shucked 
 off," and before the others knew what he was up 
 to, he plunged into the chilly water and swam 
 to the rock. Climbing up on it and walking to 
 its upper end, he stooped and lifted from the 
 water a first-class hickory shirt. What a glorious 
 find! In an ecstasy of joy he waved it above his 
 head, and there is no telling how much he was 
 envied by the men who were watching him from the 
 shore. Nick wore that shirt into Tennessee, and 
 afterwards into North Carolina. 
 
A STUDENT-SOLDIER 179 
 
 Nick, on returning to his comrades, said, "Boys, 
 when I was on that rock I looked across the river 
 and saw many pumpkins in the field on the other 
 side." 
 
 That was another glorious find in which all the 
 men were at once interested. It was soon known 
 throughout camp, and nearly every man in the 
 12th made a rush for the river. They swam across, 
 and each of them, I suppose, got one or more pump- 
 kins. Their recrossing of the river with the pumpkins 
 was the prettiest sight Nick saw during the war. 
 As they swam they pushed the pumpkins ahead of 
 them or held them by their stems with their teeth, 
 and all were as gay and sportive as if they had been 
 on a picnic. That evening the camp kettle was 
 brought into use, and the Dixie boys had a great 
 feast in which the only dishes were " cush " and 
 boiled pumpkin, and these were seasoned only with 
 salt and red pepper. 
 
 A Student-soldier 
 
 If this story has a moral it is that a lad who has 
 the will can learn much without a teacher, and that 
 too under the most adverse circumstances. However, 
 one may not be entitled to much credit for persever- 
 ance e.tpended in pursuit of a subject that he really 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE, — 12 
 
180 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 likes. When Nick left college for the war his class 
 was just finishing the sophomore year, and therefore 
 had not reached the higher mathematics — analytics 
 and calculus. In the subjects passed over, arith- 
 metic, algebra, geometry, and trigonometry, Nick 
 was quite thorough, owing to a liking rather than a 
 talent for mathematics, though wise men tell us 
 that the former is some evidence of the latter. 
 
 In addition to Nick's fondness for the subject 
 he had a consuming desire to see what lay be^^ond the 
 boundaries of his attainments. The attempt to 
 satisfy this desire occupied his mind, if not his time, 
 during the war more than all the affairs of camp 
 and field. When not actively engaged on duty he 
 found delight in poring over some problem or theorem 
 of real or imaginative entities. Speaking of him 
 Joe^ said, "He swims around most of the time in a 
 sea of formulas." 
 
 Nick formed such a liking for tactics that he ob- 
 tained a copy of Hardee's textbook on the subject, 
 which was then in use, and made a study of it. The 
 result was that he was often detailed to drill squads 
 and companies. Having been elected second ser- 
 geant of his company, and finding that the duties 
 were such as to allow him more or less time for 
 study, he retained that office throughout the 
 war. 
 
A STUDENT-SOLDIER 181 
 
 At some old secondhand bookstore Nick obtained 
 a copy each of Davies's Analytic Geometry and 
 Differential and Integral Calculus, packed them 
 from place to place, and entered into their wonderful 
 unfoldings with no less of diligence than delight. 
 Such was his progress in these and other subjects 
 that at the close of the war Homer College tendered 
 him the chair of mathematics, and conferred on him 
 the degree of Master of Arts. Subsequently he 
 prepared textbooks on calculus and trigonometry 
 which were adopted, respectively, by Yale and 
 Harvard. 
 
 Of course it would be out of place in a sketch like 
 this to notice in detail Nick's achievements in va- 
 rious kinds of mathematical work and research. 
 The point is not that he did so much but that he 
 accomplished what he did without a teacher and 
 almost without the aid of books. Among the inter- 
 esting formulas which he deduced is the following 
 singular value of the ratio of the circumference of 
 a circle to the diameter: 
 
 -77 = 2(1-1)^(1-1)"-^. 
 
 Many years after the war the proof of this formula 
 was given in a mathematical magazine published 
 at DesMoines, Iowa, edited by Dr. J. E. Hendricks. 
 
 Nick's "musical circle" will probably be of interest 
 to a much wider circle of readers. Some of the young 
 
182 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 men of the regiment organized a brass band and 
 Nick joined it largely for the purpose of studying the 
 
 
 science of music. He believed, and still believes, 
 
 that the laws of music can be "harnessed in and by 
 mathematical formulas" pretty 
 much as the laws of projectiles 
 and electricity are. In this un- 
 dertaking he was led to the dis- 
 covery, among other things, of 
 the following simple mnemonic 
 device for remembering the order 
 of the sharps, flats, and keys. 
 
 This little artifice is now published for the first time, 
 
 fifty years after its discovery. 
 
 B F 
 
 Nick's Musical Circle 
 
A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 183 
 
 Draw a circle, and divide the circumference into 
 seven equal parts. Begin at any point of division 
 and write A, and at the alternate points write in 
 order, B, C, D, E, F, G. This arrangement gives at 
 once : 
 
 (1) The order of the sharps, F, C, G, D, A, E, B. 
 
 (2) The keys by sharps, G, /), A, E, B, F, C. 
 
 (3) The order of the flats, B, E, A, D, G, C, F. 
 
 (4) The keys by flats, F, B, E, A, D, G, C. 
 
 A Perilous Adventure 
 
 A long time ago, in a humble home in the great 
 city of New York, was born a boy named Robert. ^^ 
 Henry Ward Beecher said, "There is no telling what 
 is wrapped up in a boy's jacket." This might well 
 have been applied to Robert, though he, like many 
 other heroic souls, has never attained great wealth 
 or high station in civil life. 
 
 When quite a young man he came to the South, 
 and, like many other good and brave men of the 
 North, became one of the Dixie people. When the 
 Civil War broke out he was among the first to enlist 
 in the Confederate Army. He began as a private 
 but soon became a captain. He was in the siege at 
 Port Hudson ; that is, he was with the Dixie soldiers 
 who were hemmed in there by the Federal soldiers, 
 
184 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 so that they (the Dixie boys) could get no more food 
 from, and have no conference with, their friends on 
 the outside. 
 
 Now Robert told the Dixie leader. General Gard- 
 ner, that he would carry a message from him to Gen- 
 eral Johnston, the Dixie leader on the outside, al- 
 though several men had already tried to do so, and 
 had been killed or captured on the way. The general 
 wrote the message, gave it to Robert, and said, 
 "Good-by. God bless you." 
 
 The Mississippi River flows by Port Hudson, and 
 is 1200 yards wide there. Robert knew the country 
 well, as it was not far from his home. His plan was to 
 swim the river and land at a point about fifteen miles 
 below, because the bank opposite Port Hudson was 
 guarded by Federal sentinels. One night about nine 
 o'clock, with five canteens buckled around his waist, 
 he waded into the water and began his long swim. 
 
 The swim was not only a long but a perilous one. 
 The river was lined with Federal gunboats and its 
 banks with Federal pickets; the route led through 
 many eddies and cross-currents of the great river; 
 the long stay in the water was likely to produce 
 cramps; and the peril was increased by his having 
 to swim in his clothes. He reached his landing 
 place about four o'clock the next morning, his 
 swim having lasted about seven hours. He delivered 
 
A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 
 
 185 
 
 the message to General Johnston at Jackson, Mis- 
 sissippi, and then took a message from General 
 Johnston back to General Gardner. 
 
 In returning, Robert crossed the river in a horse 
 trough a few miles above Port Hudson, and went 
 down the western bank to a point 
 just opposite Port Hudson. There 
 he waited in the bushes until the 
 sentinels were posted on the levee. 
 He thus learned their posi- 
 tions. And so, after dark, he 
 passed unseen between two 
 of them, and, reaching the 
 river, swam 
 across into 
 Port Hudson. 
 Both the of- 
 ficers, John- 
 son and Gard- 
 ner, spoke in 
 high praise 
 
 of his con- 
 duct.* 
 
 *0n the Boulevard at Baton Rouge is a Confederate monument. 
 Here the local ex-Confederates often assemble to tell anew the stories 
 of the past. Prominent in this assembly is Robert, respected and es- 
 teemed in his old age by all who know him. 
 
186 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 General Sherman and Colonel Boyd 
 
 The Louisiana State University, now domiciled 
 at Baton Rouge, had its origin in the Louisiana State 
 Seminary and Mihtary Academy, which was located 
 in the piny woods near Alexandria, Louisiana. This 
 embryo of the university began its career January 2, 
 1860, with William Tecumseh Sherman as Superin- 
 tendent, and David French Boyd as Professor of An- 
 cient Languages. Colonel Sherman was an Ohioan 
 and a graduate of West Point; and Professor Boyd 
 was a native of Virginia, and a graduate of her great 
 university. Between these two men, who had so 
 many like qualities of heart and mind, there sprang 
 up at once a mutual admiration, which ripened into 
 a friendship that strengthened with the lapse of 
 years. 
 
 Pending the growing estrangement between the 
 North and the South, which culminated in the seces- 
 sion of the Southern states in 1861, Colonel Sher- 
 man frankly and firmly sided with the North, and 
 when Louisiana seceded he at once resigned the 
 superintendency of the Seminary, went North, ten- 
 dered his services to President Lincoln, and became 
 one of the greatest generals of the Civil War. 
 
 Professor Boyd espoused the cause of the South, 
 
SHERMAN AND BOYD 187 
 
 and was among the first to enlist in her mihtary 
 service. During the first two years of the war he 
 served gallantly in the Army of Virginia. He was 
 then transferred to the Trans-Mississippi Depart- 
 ment and assigned to the corps of engineers under 
 General Taylor, with the rank of major. 
 
 In the dense woods near Alexandria, while running 
 some contour lines, Major Boj^d was seized by a band 
 of jayhawkers.* As they hurried him along to their 
 secluded retreat they debated as to what disposition 
 they would make of him. The majority favored 
 "putting him out of the way," but some advocated 
 turning him over to the "Yankees" in exchange for 
 coffee and sugar. Before deciding the matter they 
 reached Black River, and while crossing the stream 
 their skiff capsized, and one of the guerrillas would 
 have been drowned had it not been for the help of 
 Major Boyd. This kind act of the prisoner caused 
 the captors to decide upon carrying him to the 
 Federals at Vidalia, Louisiana. 
 
 Then followed a long and toilsome tramp across 
 the swamp of the great river. The jayhawkers, 
 fearing encounters with citizens and Confederate 
 scouts, traveled mostly in the deep woods or along 
 bypaths which led through solitudes unrelieved by 
 the faintest trace of man. Major Boyd had a fine 
 
 * Guerrillas. 
 
188 
 
 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 and irrepressible sense of humor, and never was it a 
 greater support to him than on this trying occasion. 
 
 He was, as it 
 were, the one 
 cheerful spirit 
 in a mourning 
 household. Ar- 
 riving finally at 
 Vidalia he was 
 turned over to 
 the Federals, the 
 ""^'^"''" inference being 
 
 that he was bartered for coffee and sugar. His 
 quarters were established in the local jail pending 
 his transference to some northern prison. 
 
 In the meantime General Sherman, now high in 
 rank and in the councils of his country, came along 
 on a tour of inspection, and hearing of the fate of the 
 major had him escorted to his office. When they met 
 smiles broke suddenly like beams of light on their 
 faces. Each realized, as probably never before, 
 that there are ties which even war can not sever. 
 
 At that time Confederate prisoners were exchange- 
 able or not according to certain local conditions, 
 not necessary to explain here. General Sherman, in 
 order to get the major on the exchangeable list, 
 determined to take him to New Orleans and turn him 
 
SHERMAN AND BOYD 189 
 
 over to General Banks. So he had the major to 
 take passage with him on his boat, and on the trip 
 down the river treated him as his honored guest, 
 providing him with a stateroom and having him to 
 dine at the same table with himself. After a short 
 confinement in prison at New Orleans the major 
 was exchanged and at once returned to his duties 
 under General Taylor. 
 
 •Soon after the war Major Boyd was elected super- 
 intendent of the Seminary, which position carried 
 with it the rank of colonel in the state militia. The 
 rest of this story, though important as to the facts 
 related, will probably be most interesting to the 
 general reader by its disclosure of General Sherman's 
 continued regard for the institution and its new 
 president. 
 
 In 1869 the buildings of the Seminary were de- 
 stroyed by fire, and the institution was removed to 
 Baton Rouge, and temporarily housed in a part of 
 the large edifice erected by the state for the care and 
 education of its deaf and dumb. In 1874 Colonel 
 Boyd, on the recommendation of General Sherman, 
 was appointed superintendent of the Khedivial Mili- 
 tary Academy, Cairo, Egypt. This position the 
 colonel declined chiefly on account of his aversion 
 to severing his connection with the school intrusted 
 to his care, although at that time the institution was 
 
190 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 literally perishing for want of the support of the 
 "carpetbag" state government, and also of the im- 
 poverished people struggling under its untold evils 
 and abuses. 
 
 General Sherman became commander of the army 
 in 18G9, which position he resigned in 1884. In 
 1879, while passing through the South looking after 
 military conditions, he stopped over at Baton Rouge, 
 and for the time was the guest of the institution inio 
 which the Seminary expanded on the decline of the 
 carpetbaggers: namely, the Louisiana State Uni- 
 versity. A banquet was tendered him by the school 
 in which, using the language of the general, many 
 "gallant men who wore the gray" cheerfully partici- 
 pated. 
 
 Lying along the north boundary of the city of 
 Baton Rouge is a stretch of land containing 210 
 acres, with a high blufi'-front of 600 yards overlook- 
 ing the Mississippi River. This beautiful and 
 valuable tract is now the home and property of 
 the university, and no more appropriate site for a 
 great school is imaginable. When one surveys it, 
 one is equally attracted by its beauty, its health- 
 fulness, its value, and its interesting and romantic 
 history. It is ideal for pleasure and meditation. 
 The imagination is touched and kindled by the 
 thousand stirring associations which hover over it. 
 
SHERMAN AND BOYD 191 
 
 Here played the mighty forces which molded the 
 civilization of the Southwest, and here Louisiana 
 laid the foundation of her future greatness and power. 
 A typical Louisiana spot — carpeted with a living 
 green and lulled by the ceaseless murmur of the 
 Father of Waters — fields of corn and rice, cotton and 
 sugar cane stretch out around it, gulf breezes sweep 
 over it, and the dark shadows of the live oak and 
 magnolia fall across it. How^ the university came by 
 this splendid property is as naturally asked as it is 
 briefly answered. 
 
 Attracted by its elevation and commanding posi- 
 tion, Bienville established a military post here 
 soon after the founding of New Orleans (1718). 
 Under the successive dominations of the French, 
 Spaniards, and Americans the post was continued, 
 improved, and expanded into a strong garrison with 
 massive buildings for supplies, officers, and men. 
 At one time or another nearly all the noted soldiers 
 of the nation were stationed here. It was the home 
 of General Taylor when he was elected President 
 of the United States. Beneath the splendid oaks 
 listening crowds of citizens and soldiers have hung 
 with rapture on the lips of the nation's great states- 
 men and orators. 
 
 In the course of time the conditions which made 
 it advisable to found and maintain a military post 
 
>^c- 
 
 192 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 
 
 at Baton Rouge ceased to exist, and in 1878 the 
 Government discontinued the garrison. General 
 Sherman, ever thoughtful of the school away down in 
 Dixie which he helped so much to establish, recom- 
 mended that the property be turned over to that in- 
 stitution. This proposition was warmly seconded 
 and persistently pushed by the Louisiana delegation 
 in Congress. In 1884 a bill, introduced by Hon. 
 A. B. Irion, was passed giving the university the use 
 of the grounds and buildings, and in 1902 a bill, 
 introduced by Hon. S. M. Robertson, was passed 
 making a complete donation of the property to the 
 university for all time. 
 
 General Sherman died in 1891 and Colonel Boyd 
 in 1899. Though dead, yet at "L. S. U." they still 
 live. A beautiful memorial hall, erected by the 
 alumni of the university in memory of David French 
 Boyd, adorns the grounds; and in the assembly hall, 
 side by side with those of Robert E. Lee and Stone- 
 wall Jackson, hangs a life-size portrait of William 
 Tecumseh Sherman.* 
 
 * The present President of the university is Col. Thos. D. Boyd, a 
 younger brother of Col. D. F. Boyd, and under his able administration 
 the institution has had a remarkable growth every way — in buildings, 
 equipments, and attendance; in colleges of arts and sciences, agriculture, 
 and engineering, and in schools of law, sugar, and pedagogy. 
 
 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 Cheerful Endurance 
 
 In a speech just before the war a secessionist 
 said, "The South can whip the North with popguns." 
 Just after the war the speaker was derisively re- 
 minded of his boast. Not in the least abashed the 
 old stager replied: "We could have done it, but 
 they wouldn't fight us that way." 
 
 A Georgian, returning from the war, consoled 
 himself with this reflection: " I am going home now 
 and make a crop; as for the war I'm satisfied — I 
 killed as many of them as they did of me." 
 
 On his way home after the surrender a "Johnnie 
 Reb" (Confederate) fell in with a "Bobby Link" 
 (Federal), and they were having a "high old lark" 
 together. 
 
 "Johnnie," said Bobby; "we licked you." 
 
 "You didn't," said Johnnie; "we jes wore ourselves 
 out er licking you." 
 
 Probably no part of the Civil War is more inter- 
 esting, and certainly none is more pathetic, than the 
 
 193 
 
194 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 surrender of the Confederate Army and the return 
 of the warworn veterans to their distant and deso- 
 late homes. The 
 Dixie boys' ca- 
 pacity for cheer- 
 f u 1 endurance, 
 which had been 
 their mainstay 
 in the toils and 
 privations of 
 camp and field, 
 was now the one 
 bright star in the rayless night settling over the 
 Southern states. 
 
 Every resource of the South had been taxed to 
 the point of exhaustion. With her 600,000 men she 
 had met the 2,750,000 of the North, fought over 
 every foot of her soil, and protracted the struggle 
 until more than half her forces were slain, disabled, 
 or imprisoned. Many sections of Dixie, having 
 been tramped over by both armies and swept 
 by fire and sword for four years, might now an- 
 swer to Sheridan's description of the Shenandoah 
 Valley: 
 
 *'The crow that flies over it must carry his rations 
 with him." 
 
 Yet when the end came the men stacked their 
 
Doctor James W. Nicholson 
 
CLOSING SCENES 195 
 
 guns in sadness but not in tears or bitterness. Re- 
 turning to their homes they found their houses in 
 ruins, their farms destroyed, their slaves freed, 
 their stock killed, and their yards and gardens over- 
 grown with weeds. What then and there occurred 
 is well told by the eloquent Grady: 
 
 "What does he do — this hero in gray with a heart 
 of gold? Does he sit down in sullenness and despair? 
 Not for a day. The soldier stepped from the trenches 
 into the furrow; horses that had charged Federal 
 guns marched before the plow, and fields that ran 
 red with human blood in April were green with the 
 harvest in June. Cheerfulness and frankness sweet- 
 ened the energy which made bricks without straw 
 and spread splendor amid the ashes of their war- 
 wasted homes." 
 
 Closing Scenes 
 
 The last battle in which the 12th took part was 
 the one at Bentonville, North Carolina (March 20, 
 1865). On the retreat from there it passed through 
 Raleigh, and here the men heard of the surrender 
 of General Lee (April 9, 1865). A deep gloom like an 
 ominous cloud fell on the troops — they had reached 
 the climax of "the ever deepening tragedy of war." 
 Legweary and footsore they plodded on toward 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 13 
 
196 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 Greensboro. Their sad plight was the more touching 
 because of their tattered garb and empty haver- 
 sacks. 
 
 Never did the men stand in greater need of re- 
 animation; and with the want there came, as usual, 
 "the doctor." This time it was the Reverend Mr. 
 Pepper, Presbyterian chaplain of a Mississippi regi- 
 ment. Everybody loved "Brother Pepper " 
 because of his helpfulness, wit, gaiety, and 
 goodness. He had somewhere picked up 
 what appeared to be the skeleton of an old 
 swaybacked horse. This animal's neck and 
 back formed a deep concave arc, the high- 
 est points being his ears and the root 
 of his tail. The regiment having 
 stopped for a short rest, the men 
 were lying on the grass by the road- 
 side when Brother Pepper came along 
 on old "traveler," without saddle or 
 bridle. 
 
CLOSING SCENES 
 
 197 
 
 At once a regular fusillade poured on him from the 
 ranks. 
 
 "Hello, parson, how did you make the raise?" 
 
 "Say, Brother Pepper, is that a horse or a kan- 
 garoo? Come out of that fork, old man, I know you 
 are in there, because I see your feet." 
 
 "Look here. Brother Pepper, is that the war 
 horse you're going to charge 'em on?" 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the preacher, "one question 
 at a time, if you please." 
 
 "Brother Pepper, what I'd like to know is this, 
 how much is passage?" 
 
 "Now, Jim," 10 replied the 
 chaplain, "if you are really 
 tired of walking, and will give 
 me a dollar for my services, 
 I'll teach you how to pace." 
 
 Nick, having served in the 
 Army of Tennessee, never saw 
 General Lee, yet felt as if he 
 knew him personally. How 
 many times had he been 
 cheered by the news, "Lee 
 has whipped 'em again." In 
 every camp and home of Dixie during the war the 
 main theme of conversation and the chief object of 
 adoration, was "Mars Robert." Never was a man 
 
198 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 more idolized by soldiers and citizens. Their confi- 
 dence in him as a commander and their esteem for 
 him as a man were boundless. With them, as so 
 graphically stated by Hon. Benjamin Hill: "He pos- 
 sessed every virtue of other commanders without 
 their vices — a foe without hate, a soldier without 
 cruelty, a victor without oppression, and a victim 
 without murmuring; — as gentle as a woman in life, 
 and grand in battle as Achilles." 
 
 In a word, he was the ideal of the South; and while 
 this is high praise of him it is none the less eulogistic 
 of the people of Dixie, for a real artist is an artist 
 only to those who are themselves more or less artists. 
 They must have had something of the same high 
 elements of character. 
 
 To this may . be ascribed the achievements so 
 forcibly and classically described by the gifted 
 Thomas Nelson Page: 
 
 "The South produced a people whose heroic fight 
 against the forces of the world has enriched the an- 
 nals of the human race, and whose fortitude in de- 
 feat has been more splendid than their valor in 
 war." 
 
 The 12th belonged to that part of the Army of 
 Tennessee which was surrendered at Greensboro, 
 North Carolina, April 26, 1865. The capitulation 
 of these two main armies of the South brought the 
 
CLOSING SCENES 199 
 
 war to a close. What battles had been fought! 
 What thousands had been slain! What countless 
 sums had been expended! The deeds of heroism on 
 both sides have probably never been surpassed in 
 all the annals of warfare. Surely both sides thought 
 they had something to fight for. 
 
 What was it all about? Something smacking of 
 real intelligence and patriotism now warns the 
 writer to be careful what he says. There is such a 
 thing as "the pot calling the kettle black." Few 
 have been the quarrels in this world in which both 
 parties were not to some extent blamable. The 
 kind of man that makes one ashamed of the national 
 melting pot is he who " searches the Bible for passages 
 which may be interpreted as sure damnation for his 
 enemies and sure glory for himself." "Charity is 
 the first breath of real heaven that men and women 
 feel here on earth." 
 
 They were all Americans— the products of our 
 republican ideals and institutions— and all "fought 
 for the right as God gave them to see the right." 
 The valor, fortitude, and disinterestedness of both 
 sides is the glorious heritage of the American people. 
 That from which we should draw the greatest hope 
 and promise, and in which we should feel the greatest 
 pride and pleasure, is the assurance that Americans, 
 North and South, are formed of the clay out of which 
 
200 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 the best soldiers and citizens are fashioned by the 
 hands of the Great Potter. 
 
 In the fullness of time there may be erected in 
 Washington, District of Columbia, a joint monu- 
 ment to Grant and Lee, built by the free offerings 
 of the people of all sections of our great country and 
 in appreciation of the splendid products of our re- 
 publican institutions. So mote it be. 
 
 The Fortunes of an Old Flag 
 
 Anyone who has served in an army that has 
 fought many battles and borne many hardships 
 knows how much the men come to prize and love 
 their flag. With them it is a companion that has 
 shared their joys and sorrows, cheered them in the 
 sunshine of triumph, and consoled them in the shad- 
 ows of adversity. It is prized by them, not merely 
 as the emblem of their country, but also as a member 
 of the family, and the more so if the men and the 
 flag have grown old together in the service and are 
 alike weather-stained and battle-scarred. 
 
 That the men of the 12th had this feeling for 
 their flag is shown by the following incident. When 
 it became known that the regiment was to be sur- 
 rendered, Leon,^^ the adjutant, began to devise some 
 plan by which the dlear old flag might be kept from 
 
THE FORTUNES OF AN OLD FLAG 
 
 201 
 
 falling into the hands of strangers. He mentioned 
 the matter to a few of his friends, one of whom was 
 Nick. 
 
 The interest of the men was at' once awakened, 
 and they began to suggest ways 
 by which it could be done. The 
 following will show the plan 
 agreed upon. That night they 
 went quietly, one by one, to a 
 nearby woodland; and, having 
 concealed themselves in a dense 
 copse, they took off Leon's 
 clothes, and wrapped and pinned 
 the flag closely around his body. 
 Leon was a thin bony fellow and 
 did not look unduly large when 
 he put his clothes on over the 
 flag. 
 
 The next day the regiment 
 was surrendered, but the flag 
 could nowhere be found. The 
 colonel (Graham) was much in- 
 censed, but his threats and ap- 
 peals were alike unavailing. Leon thus carried the 
 flag to his distant home in Bastrop, Louisiana, 
 where he guarded and preserved it for many, many 
 years. In the course of time the Memorial Hall in 
 
202 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 New Orleans was built for the preservation of just 
 such relics. To this beautiful hall Leon consigned 
 the flag, and there it has been ever since. The 
 sequel of this story may not be uninteresting: 
 
 Forty-two years after the surrender, when Hon. 
 N. C. Blanchard was governor of Louisiana, the 
 flags captured from the Confederates were returned 
 to the several Southern states. Extensive prepara- 
 tions were made in New Orleans for the reception 
 of these now mute emblems of American valor 
 and good will. The governor was to be present and 
 receive the flags in behalf of the state. It so happened 
 at the last moment that he could not go, and he 
 asked Nick to go in his place. 
 
 In the presence of a large assembly in Memorial 
 Hall, Nick took the flags, one at a time, from the 
 box in which they had been carefully packed and 
 shipped, and read their descriptions as given by the 
 adjutant general. Great applause followed each 
 announcement, and continued as the curator bore 
 the flag to its assigned position. Thus, as Nick said, 
 "In this Southern Pantheon they have taken their 
 places in the silent assembly over which hover 
 the legends and story of Dixie, its ideals and its 
 chivalry." 
 
 "In conclusion," said he, "for one reason it is well 
 that the governor asked me to represent him on this 
 
THE CURTAIN FALLS 203 
 
 occasion, and that one reason makes my presence 
 here somewhat of a coincidence. You have probably 
 noticed that the flag of the 12th regiment was 'not 
 present or accounted for ' in this consignment. It 
 so happens that I can explain the cause of its ab- 
 sence." 
 
 Then he pointed to the old flag in question and 
 told its interesting history. 
 
 The Curtain Falls on a Scene both Sad and Droll 
 
 Of the one thousand two hundred men that had 
 belonged to the 12th from first to last only about 
 one hundred seventy-five were left to be surrendered, 
 and many of these were sick, feeble, or maimed. It 
 soon became known that the surgeon would examine 
 the men and report such as were unable to walk 
 to their far-away homes in Louisiana. These were 
 to be given transportation by rail, and all the others — - 
 the strong and healthy — would have "to foot it." 
 
 "Nii^k," said Oat, "I believe I'm taking the 
 rheumatism." 
 
 "Why," asked Nick, "do you select rheumatism 
 instead of some other disease?" 
 
 "Because," said Oat, "the doctor can't tell from 
 a fellow's pulse, or tongue, or temperature whether 
 he is lying or not." 
 
204 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 Oat's purpose was to have some fun as well as to 
 get a long ride. 
 
 When the drum beat for the sick to fall in for the 
 examination, Oat, with one leg bent at the knee and 
 one arm at the elbow, hobbled along on a stout 
 stick as if in great pain. He took his place in the 
 long line of men enfeebled by disease or bullets. 
 
 Tottering in weakness and in rags these grim war- 
 riors of many a well-fought field were pitiable to 
 behold, and, as the surgeon drew near, the most 
 forlorn phenomenon of the whole line was Oat. 
 
 On reaching Oat the surgeon asked, "What is 
 the matter with you.^^" 
 
 "Got the rheumatism," said Oat. 
 
 "Where is it located.^^" inquired the doctor. 
 
THE CURTAIN FALLS 205 
 
 "Mostly in my joints, but there is also a pain in 
 my back as long and wide as the blade of a saw." 
 
 He played the role so cleverly that he obtained a 
 pass to ride* and so comically that it put the whole 
 camp to laughing, and thus changed the gloomy 
 occasion into a very pleasant affair. 
 
 *To show how poor were the means for travehng by rail we 
 will run ahead of our story, and relate a strange coincidence. 
 
 Among those who secured permits to go by rail on account 
 of disabilities were Mark^^ and William, 20 and these were home- 
 neighbors of Nick. On May 2, Nick, in bidding them good-bye, 
 said, "Tell my people I am well, and will get home sometime. 
 
 One month afterwards, June 2, Nick and his party, on their 
 way home, were ascending the Mississippi River, riding on the 
 hurricane-deck of a steamboat. On reachmg the mouth of Red 
 River Nick remarked, "See, Mac, our boat, instead of turning 
 into the Red, seems to be going to the Mississippi side." Mac, 
 looking ahead, saw two men standing on the Mississippi shore, 
 and replied, "I reckon she is going over to take those two fellows 
 aboard." Sure enough, the boat landed, and as the two men 
 started aboard Nick exclaimed, "Look, Mac, 'for the life of me, 
 it is Mark and William. What a singular coincidence! 
 
 Such was the condition of the railroads that it took Mark 
 and William one month to go from Greensboro to Vicksburg. 
 At that time the river was very high, and, the levees being 
 destroyed, the entire Mississippi bottom was buried beneath a 
 great overflow. So the two wayfarers could reach home from 
 Vicksburg only by descending the Mississippi River and ascend- 
 ing the Red. They arrived at the Red just in time to catch the 
 boat on which was their regiment. 
 
 There are probably few other instances in which pedestrians 
 kept pace with railroad trains for a distance of a thousand miles. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 The Remnant Starts Home 
 
 When those on the "sick hst" had been given 
 passes there were left in the 12th about seventy 
 well men who had to make their way home as best 
 they could. They regarded the long tramp with less 
 aversion than one would at first imagine. "They 
 had been schooled," as Joe said, "in toils and hard- 
 ships until they could walk like horses, endure like 
 oxen, and sleep anywhere that alligators could." 
 Furthermore, they would have no loads to carry 
 except an old blanket apiece, and, being free from 
 military restraints, could go as they pleased. 
 
 On the third day of May they turned their faces 
 westward, Nick being one of the party, and with 
 only $1.10 apiece (their part of the Confederate 
 treasury) they started on the long journey across 
 North Carolina, South Carolina,, Georgia, Alabama, 
 Mississippi, and into Louisiana. As a rule they trav- 
 eled about thirty miles per day. Their movements 
 showed a striking example of the force of habit. So 
 
 206 
 
THE REMNANT STARTS HOME 
 
 207 
 
 accustomed were they to marching in order, that, no 
 matter how they started, they would soon be walking 
 with the step in 
 files of twos or 
 fours. 
 
 Their chief want 
 was something to 
 eat. It was prob- 
 ably Tom ^^ who 
 described them as 
 being "too poor to 
 buy, too proud to 
 beg, and too honest 
 to steal." So they 
 were in a bad fix. 
 However, the Fed- 
 eral provost marshals in the larger towns issued 
 them "small rations of hardtack and pickled pork." 
 The ladies along the way were always anxious to help 
 them, but they were often as destitute as the soldiers 
 themselves. Every place bore mute but eloquent 
 testimony to the ravages of war. Often the fields 
 and gardens were destroyed, and not a cow, hog, 
 or chicken could be seen about the wasted homes. 
 Fortunately, black berries were ripening along the 
 roadside, and these helped to allay the pangs of 
 hunger. 
 
208 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 A Great Southern Leader 
 
 Their route is indicated by the following towns, 
 through which they passed : Salisbury and Charlotte, 
 North Carolina, Union and Abbeville, South Caro- 
 lina, Atlanta and LaGrange, Georgia, and Opelika 
 and Montgomery, Alabama. 
 
 Near Abbeville they loitered for some time about 
 the boyhood home of John C. Calhoun. A halo 
 of memories seemed to hover over and illumine every 
 spot on which the boy once romped, laughed, and 
 mused. Amid the reflections suggested by these 
 scenes one is reminded of the large number of great 
 men who were reared in the country. Washington, 
 Jefferson, and Madison, Calhoun, Clay and Webster, 
 Lincoln, Davis, and Lee, and many other truly 
 great men were country-raised boys. Behind the 
 simple and potential strength of all these men lay 
 the forces which were molded in youth by the toils 
 and lessons, tonics and inspirations, of country life. 
 
 Although Nick (or rather his people) did not 
 belong to the political party of which Calhoun was 
 the leader and the exponent, nor wholly indorsed his 
 views of slavery, yet no one surpassed Nick in ap- 
 preciation of the mental force and moral integrity 
 of the great South Carolinian. As Mr. Davis says, 
 
A GREAT SOUTHERN LEADER 209 
 
 "His prophetic warnings speak from the grave with 
 the wisdom of inspiration." It was a beautiful 
 tribute paid him by Daniel Webster, his greatest 
 political rival, though his personal friend: "There 
 was nothing groveling, or low, or meanly selfish, 
 that came near the head or the heart of Mr. Cal- 
 houn." 
 
 Probably the most memorable event in the life of 
 Calhoun was the debate between him and Webster 
 on the character of the Federal Government. What 
 many of the thoughtful and conservative men of the 
 South thought of that debate and of the two partici- 
 pants is briefly expressed in the following extract 
 from an address delivered by Nick in 1912 on the 
 occasion of the Commencement Exercises of the 
 Louisiana State Normal School. The speaker in 
 discussing the function and potentiality of the 
 imagination, and the importance of training it, 
 said, 
 
 "The great historian is not he who merely garners 
 the facts and statistics of the past and presents 
 them in a logical and chronological order, but 
 he who takes these facts and by an exuberant and 
 constructive imagination breathes into them the 
 breath of life. He reproduces the motives and 
 spirit of the past and transports the reader into its 
 joys and its sorrows. He not only articulates its 
 
210 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 dry bones, but he puts flesh upon them and sends 
 the warm blood coursing through the veins. 
 
 "We need not revert to other times or chmes for a 
 striking instance of the potentiahty of a trained and 
 constructive imagination. We have one in the history 
 of our own country. Calhoun and Webster were 
 great orators and statesmen. Calhoun excelled in 
 logic and Webster in imagination. The memorable 
 debate between these two intellectual giants on the 
 character of the Federal Government shook the 
 nation from center to circumference. It was a battle 
 royal between facts fortified by logic on the one side 
 and facts vitalized by imagination on the other. 
 Thirty years thereafter the issue was decided by 
 the arbitrament of battle, and logic went down under 
 the onward sweep of imagination." 
 
 An Old-Time Southern Aristocrat 
 
 Having strolled on ahead of the rest of the party 
 Nick crossed the Savannah River all alone, and im- 
 mediately left the main road in search of food. 
 Really he had learned what it is to be hungry. How 
 different is the ordinary craving for food from that 
 produced by months of poor and insufficient nutri- 
 ment. To persons who have felt only the former, 
 the "pangs of hunger" are utterly meaningless 
 
AN OLD-TIME SOUTHERN ARISTOCRAT 211 
 
 words. Hunger such as the Confederates often 
 endured, is, as Eggleston says, "the great, despairing 
 cry of a wasting 
 body — an agony of 
 the whole body 
 and soul as well." 
 Nick approach- 
 ed a dwelling which 
 had evidently seen 
 better days. It 
 appeared to be de- 
 serted except by 
 the swallows that 
 fluttered about the 
 old weatherstained 
 columns. In response to his 
 
 venerable 
 She wore 
 
 hello" a 
 old lady came out on the front gallery, 
 a home spun dress and a frilled cap. In her face 
 and bearing there was something familiar to Nick — 
 an expression that he had known. "Probably," 
 thought he, "I have seen her before." No; what 
 he recognized was merely the common mark of a 
 typical Southern woman of the upper class. 
 
 She was a so-called "Southern Aristocrat." But 
 Nick knew, and all her neighbors knew, that her 
 aristocracy was one of nobility rather than of wealth, 
 fortune, and rank. From that home comfort and 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. — 14 
 
212 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 luxurj^ might depart but the sweet ministrations of 
 culture and refinement never. No one could ap- 
 proach her with undue familiarity, yet her inter- 
 course with the prince and the pauper, the master 
 and the slave, was marked by the gentlest courtesies. 
 While she was proud, hers was a heart that could 
 reach down to the suffering and hold poor little dying 
 babes on her breast. In her face was a firmness 
 which was as soft as velvet and yet as inflexible as 
 steel. Her face had a haggard look, such a look as 
 comes from toil, anxiety, and scanty food, but be- 
 hind it all was a fortitude that toil could not chill nor 
 privations shatter. Her husband and older sons had 
 perished in battle, and the fruits of their toil and 
 thrift were perishing around her; but for all that she 
 bore herself with a brave composure. In the throes 
 of impending disasters she might lose all, — might go 
 to the stake or to penury, — but she would meet it 
 supported by the serene and supreme conviction that 
 she was a lady. 
 
 It was a part of her creed to consider no woman 
 refined who does not naturally avoid the society 
 of men; Nick knew this, but he also knew that she 
 would not be unladylike even to a stranger or a 
 beggar. Lifting his cap he approached her rever- 
 ently but with the utmost freedom. Gently touching 
 his hand she said, "My dear boy, you are hungry; 
 
AN OLD-TIME SOUTHERN ARISTOCRAT 213 
 
 come with me into the dining room." His clothes 
 were ragged and his shoes tied together with strings; 
 but that made no 
 difference with her, 
 provided only that 
 he was a gentleman. 
 
 Arriving at the 
 table she lifted an 
 immaculate white 
 cloth and thus un- 
 covered a few pones 
 of corn bread and 
 two roasted squir- 
 rels. To these she 
 helped Nick bounti- 
 fully, but made no ^ 
 apology for the coarse and scanty fare. With a well- 
 balanced mixture of mirth and sadness she chatted 
 of current events, but not a word of her ow n troubles 
 was spoken. Nor did she refer to a recent raid of 
 some "Yankee plunderers" who had stripped her of 
 her silverware and heirlooms. 
 
 As Nick was leaving she hailed a passing negro 
 and said to him kindly, ''Henry, please show this 
 gentleman the near way back to the main road." 
 With his head bowed in reverence and meditation 
 Nick walked slowly away. "I wonder," mused he, 
 
214 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 "if any country ever produced a nobler race of 
 women than the South? For courage, fortitude, 
 and high ideals they surel}^ have never been sur- 
 passed. At home and in the hospital, in camp and 
 on the battle field, their heroic, self-sacrificing, and 
 merciful deeds during this terrible war will never be 
 fully known 'until the angels make their report.'" 
 
 A Few Great Georgians 
 
 Amid the ruins of Atlanta, Hon. A. H. Stephens, 
 ex-vice president of the Confederacy, was strolling 
 about under the escort of a Federal guard. He had 
 just been arrested by order of the national govern- 
 ment, and was then being taken to trial for " treason" 
 against his country. It was a sad and a ludicrous 
 sight. Bodily he was so small he looked like a boy, 
 and his guard so large that he looked like a giant. 
 Nick was reminded by the scene of a rather noted 
 incident that happened some years before the war. 
 
 On the occasion referred to, Stephens and Judge 
 
 were opposing speakers in some political 
 
 controversy. The latter, being a very large man and 
 wishing to discredit the former by making sport of 
 his littleness, said, 
 
 "If his head were greased and his ears pinned 
 back I could swallow him." 
 
A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 215 
 
 "Probably you could," retorted the little man, 
 "but if you did you would have more brains in your 
 stomach than in your head." 
 
 Many of the people Nick had known, including 
 his father and mother, were Georgians by birth, and 
 a Georgian, wherever found, seldom tires of extolling 
 the glories of the "Cracker State." Therefore, 
 Nick had heard much of the "big men" of this grand 
 old commonwealth, especially the "trio," Stephens, 
 Hill, and Toombs. These, so thought and claimed 
 many Georgians, were the peers of Clay, Calhoun, 
 and Webster. In this, as in many other cases, there 
 may be a difference between "Mirabeau judged 
 by his friends and Mirabeau judged by the people." 
 But waiving all invidious comparisons, there are 
 few who will deny that, in the skill and power of 
 oratory, in felicity of expression and exuberance of 
 thought, in logic and imaginative force, the Georgia 
 Trio was hard to beat. 
 
 Henry W. Grady, himself a later Georgian who 
 "reached the high water mark of modern oratory," 
 said: 
 
 "The wisest speech, and the ablest ever made by 
 an American, in my opinion, is Mr. Toombs's 
 speech on slavery, delivered in Boston about ten 
 years before the war. In that speech he showed a 
 prescience almost divine, and clad in the light of 
 
216 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 thirty years of confirmation, it is simply marvel- 
 ous." 
 
 "Who saves his country, saves all things, and all 
 things saved will bless him. Who lets his country 
 die, lets all things die, and all things dying curse 
 him." 
 
 In the city of Atlanta this literary gem is graven 
 on the statue of its author, Benjamin H. Hill, and 
 in the "garden of literature" there is probably not 
 a richer fruit or a flower more beautiful. 
 
 Hill's tribute to Lee is no less a mosaic than an 
 epic: 
 
 . "He was Caesar, without his ambition; Frederick, 
 without his tyranny; Napoleon, without his selfish- 
 ness; and W^ashington, without his reward. He was 
 a foe without hate, a friend without treachery, a 
 soldier without cruelty, a victor without oppression, 
 and a victim without murmuring." 
 
 In opposition to secession Stephens led the "union- 
 ists." In the midst of the momentous issues that 
 confronted the people, the secessionists and unionists 
 were earnestly looking for light to guide them in 
 that hour of travail and uncertainty. By request, 
 Mr. Toombs, a leading secessionist, addressed the 
 General Assembly of Georgia one evening and 
 Stephens addressed it the next (November 14, 1860.) 
 Both delivered masterpieces of oratory. The follow- 
 
A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 217 
 
 ing excerpts from the speech of the latter are no less 
 important lessons to-day than when delivered: 
 
 Speaking of the benefits of the government under 
 which we have lived and prospered Mr. Stephens 
 said: "They are so silent and unseen that they are 
 seldom thought of or appreciated. The influence of 
 the government on us is like that of the atmosphere 
 around us. We seldom think of the single element 
 of oxygen in the air we breathe, and yet, let this sim- 
 ple, unseen, and unfelt agent be withdrawn, this 
 life-giving element be taken away from this all- 
 pervading fluid around us, and what instant and 
 appalling changes would take place in all organic 
 creation." 
 
 In illustrating how hard, if not impossible, it is to 
 restore the civic virtues and institutions of a country 
 when once they have been destroyed, he thus cited 
 the case of Greece: 
 
 "Descendants of the same people inhabit the 
 country; yet what a mighty difference. In the 
 midst of present degradation we see the glorious 
 fragments of ancient works of art — temples with 
 ornaments and inscriptions that excite wonder and 
 admiration, the remains of a once high order of 
 civilization which have outlived the language they 
 spoke. Upon them all Ichabod is written — their 
 glory has departed. Why is this so? I answer thus. 
 
218 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 their institutions have 
 were but the fruits of 
 
 m 
 
 been destroyed. These 
 their forms of govern- 
 ment, the matrix from 
 which their grand de- 
 velopment sprung; 
 and when once the 
 institutions of our 
 people shall have 
 been destro^^ed, there 
 is no earthly power 
 that can bring back 
 the Promethean spark 
 to kindle them here 
 again, any more than 
 eloquence, poetry, and 
 
 that ancient land of 
 song." 
 
 Like many other great men Stephens was simple 
 and informal in his manners, and so freely did he 
 intermingle with all classes that he was widely 
 known as "the great commoner." Mac ^^ and Nick 
 greatly desired to see him at close range and hear 
 him talk. Knowing how accessible he was they were 
 emboldened to approach him, and, with permission 
 of the guard, they did so, and were received with a 
 smile, hearty handshakes, and "I am delighted to 
 meet you." 
 
 There was something in his expression which be- 
 
A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 219 
 
 spoke anxiety and suffering, yet he talked cheerfully 
 and soon put the boys at their ease. He asked them 
 to tell him of their surrender, and drew from them 
 much of the details of their long tramp from North 
 Carolina to Georgia. As he laughed at the ludicrous 
 descriptions of their ups and downs, Nick wondered 
 how a man confronted with such serious concerns 
 as he was could let his mind dwell on such light 
 matters. 
 
 As to his own troubles — his impending trial and 
 the result — he manifested but little solicitude, but 
 of pubHc ills he had grave forebodings. 
 
 Referring to the results of the war — the subversion 
 of the industrial, economic, and social conditions and 
 affairs of the South— "They are bound," said he, 
 "to bring great hardships on the Southern people, 
 and these will now be aggravated by the unfortunate 
 death of Mr. Lincoln. Had he lived I doubt not 
 that he, now that his main purpose of preserving the 
 Union has been accomplished, would have sym- 
 pathized with the South in her prostration and 
 poverty, and sought to aid her in the readjustment 
 of her affairs and in the rehabilitation of all the forces 
 and agencies of peace and prosperity." 
 
 "Unfortunately," said he, "in stormy times like 
 these the direction of public affairs so often falls into 
 the hands of radicals — men of ultra feelings and 
 
220 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 views. I fear that we are headed towards trouble; 
 the forces now dominating society are not such 
 as brought peace on earth and good will to 
 men." 
 
 "Mac," said Nick as they walked away, "did you 
 notice how far above all petty spite and littleness 
 he is.^" 
 
 "Let me answer that question by asking another," 
 said Mac. "Is that not always the case with one 
 who has the courage of a soldier and the instincts of 
 a gentleman.^" 
 
 One of the many other fine characters of Georgia 
 was General J. B. Gordon. Such was Nick's high 
 appreciation of him that he named his firstborn 
 son "Gordon." 
 
 "My dear young friend," once said the general 
 to Nick, "while I thank you for the compliment, 
 I would warn you to be careful about naming your 
 sons after me and my folks. We are all Southern 
 men of the old school." 
 
 "General," inquired Nick, "what is your idea of a 
 man of that type.^^" 
 
 "Well," rephed the general, "he won't lie nor he 
 won't steal, but everything else will he do." 
 
 General Gordon was fond of a good story, and 
 few surpassed him in the art of telling one. En- 
 tertaining a crowd one day he said: 
 
A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 221 
 
 "These Episcopal bishops are usually broad 
 gauged fellows and have the saving grace of 
 good humor. One of this kind was once travel- 
 ing through the country and came upon a clever 
 though illiterate ^^ 
 
 asked the bishop, .^^^^^^ l^;:flHf 
 
 *what church do C*^^^^^^ ^fy^'y!^ 
 
 " ' Who confirmed |^lf||nKi ^^^Jf^l. 
 
 bishop. 
 
 " ' Han't never been er— 'firmed, that I'se heard of.' 
 " ' Tell me, my dear sir, how you became an epis- 
 copalian.' 
 
 '' ' Well, it was this way. Some friends in the city 
 asked me to come to see 'em; I went, and while 
 there we all went to meetin' at the 'Piscopal Church. 
 The main thing I heard 'em say was this: We've 
 been doin' er mighty sight er things which we hadn't 
 ought er do, and we've been leavin' undone er mighty 
 sight er things which we had ought er do; then I 
 said to myself, that's me; and ever since then I've 
 been a 'piscopal.' " 
 
222 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 "I reckon," added the General, "we are all more 
 or less 'piscopals." 
 
 Nick was reminded of this story and its moral 
 quite recently in reading a good book in which he 
 found this: "If we all faced the truth about things, 
 instead of sheltering ourselves in deceptions, perhaps 
 the world would begin to improve." 
 
 And also this: "What fakirs we are — if anyone 
 confesses to us things not half as bad as what we 
 ourselves do or think, how often do we set that one 
 down as a living, breathing atrocity." 
 
 A Long and Jolly Ride 
 
 The extended tramp across the defunct Confeder- 
 acy, so fraught as we have seen with toils and pri- 
 vations and clouded by the shadows of present and 
 impending troubles, was not devoid of enjoyable 
 scenes and experiences. One of the places ever 
 remembered by the wayfarers as an "oasis in the 
 desert" is Opelika, Alabama. Hearing of the hunger 
 of these homewardbound boys the ladies of that then 
 small village hastily made a table of goods boxes, 
 and on it spread such articles of food as their meager 
 larders could supply. Placed in the shade of the 
 oaks and surrounded by a bevy of charming women 
 it was a pretty sight, such a one as the poor fellows 
 
A LONG AND JOLLY RIDE 
 
 223 
 
 had not seen in many a day. Never did men eat 
 more heartily or ravenously. The ladies smiled as 
 they watched the performance, and doubtless ex- 
 cused the boys for their want of politeness in not 
 leaving a crumb or scarcely a bone on the table. 
 
 "It never rains that it doesn't pour," is sometimes 
 as true of pleasures as of trou- 
 bles. Immediately after the 
 good breakfast came a long 
 ride which was as unexpected 
 as it was joyous and restful. 
 On account of the devastations 
 wrought by first one army and 
 then by the other the railroad 
 running through Opelika 
 to Montgomery had not 
 been in use for some 
 time. Parts of the track 
 and many of the bridg 
 were destroyed, a i 
 what remained of the 
 track was in places 
 nearly hi d d e n by 
 growing grass and 
 weeds. 
 
 At Opelika " ^ 
 one old rick- ~ 
 
224 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 ety box car was left, and Nick, noticing that the 
 roadbed had a considerable down grade, said, "Boys, 
 let's put our coats and blankets in this car, shove 
 her off, and take a ride." The suggestion was ac- 
 cepted with great hilarity. 
 
 In went the luggage and off went the car. When 
 once well started on the downgrade it was propelled 
 by the force of gravity; then the men leaped into 
 and upon it. The further it went the greater was its 
 speed, so that its momentum at the end of the down- 
 grade carried it far up the next upgrade. The riders 
 were in a fever of excitement. The episode thrilled 
 them with delight and with suggestions and expecta- 
 tions of greater things. 
 
 At once it was agreed "to charter the train" for 
 the rest of the trip, push it along at the upgrades and 
 ride in it over the downgrades. Fortunately Opelika 
 has a much greater elevation than Montgomery; 
 knowing this, Nick exclaimed, "Boys, there is going 
 to be more riding than pushing." 
 
 "Attention!" ordered Mac. "I move we elect 
 Nick conductor." The motion having prevailed, 
 Nick took charge and immediately issued General 
 Order, No. I: 
 
 I. The battalion will be formed into two equal 
 squads; and the squads will go on duty alternately 
 every half hour. 
 
A LONG AND JOLLY RIDE 225 
 
 IL Sergeant Guthrie * is hereby appointed Adju- 
 tant; he will proceed at once to form the squads and 
 put the caravan agoing. 
 
 Yielding to the united pushing of about twenty- 
 five men the train rolled along slowly until it reached 
 the next downgrade; then, with all hands aboard, 
 it moved off as if imbued with life, singing faster and 
 faster its cheerful song of " clat-er-te-rack, clat-er-te- 
 rack" as it went diving through the deep cuts and 
 sailing over the high embankments. It was a jolly 
 affair, and what the car lacked of making as much 
 noise as any other train was more than made up by 
 the laughing and yelling of the "passengers." 
 
 There had been no traffic on this road for several 
 weeks, and the people living along the quiet route, 
 as one can well imagine, were startled by such an 
 unusual racket and appalling uproar. They rushed 
 out of houses and fields to see what it was, and 
 having ascertained the cause enjoyed the frolic 
 as much as the boys themselves. As the singular 
 phenomenon, having "no pushee and no puUee," 
 approached Loachapoka a crowd was seen gathering 
 at the depot. Responding to a signal from the crowd 
 the speed of the car was slackened, and in the midst 
 of much cheering and waving of hats and hand- 
 
 * Guthrie was the old hospital steward, and the only man in the party 
 who had even the semblance of a watch. 
 
226 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 kerchiefs, the "train" rolled slowly up to the station. 
 The boys were now standing on top of the car, and 
 between them and the crowd there opened up a 
 regular fusillade — not one of firearms, but of ques- 
 tions, answers, jokes, and expressions of good will. 
 
 Before leaving this pleasant place the travelers 
 were informed of the destruction of the bridge over 
 the river a few miles ahead of them. This timely 
 warning probably saved their lives, for it was down- 
 grade all the way from there to the river. 
 
 Many years after that event, Nick met an old 
 man who lived in that locality. He (the old man) 
 related the incident, and turning to Nick said, 
 
 "By the way, it has just occurred to me that they 
 were from your state, and no doubt you have heard 
 of the event before." 
 
 "Yes, my friend," said Nick, "that was the only 
 train of which I ever had the honor of being the con- 
 ductor." 
 
 More Surprises 
 
 A few miles east of Montgomery is Mount Meigs, 
 and near this little village "Company Q," as our 
 happy-go-lucky wayfarers styled themselves, came 
 upon a mulberry orchard. It appeared to contain 
 several acres, and the trees bore a harvest of tempt- 
 
MORE SURPRISES 
 
 227 
 
 ing ripe fruit. Never had the boys seen a cultivated 
 crop of that kind before, and to them a special 
 feature of the ^^ 
 novelty was the ^^^ 
 varied colors of 
 the berries. 
 
 But however 
 attractive the 
 scene to the eyes 
 of that hungry 
 crowd it was their 
 stomachs that 
 were most interested in the outlook. As a rule, they 
 did not enter gardens without leave; but on that oc- 
 casion the writer does not remember whether they 
 obtained permission to invade the orchard or not. 
 He does recall a statement by Tom ^^ as they resumed 
 their journey: "Boys, I loaded up to the guards, 
 then put up the sideboards and took on nearly as 
 much more." 
 
 Another pleasant surprise of the trip happened at 
 Montgomery. On applying to the Federal officer 
 in charge at that place "Company Q" was given 
 free passage on a boat down the Alabama River to 
 Mobile. This was a great relief, as it promised to 
 shorten the long tramp by several hundred miles. 
 Although the passage would be on the hurricane 
 
 STORIES OF DIXIE. - 
 
 15 
 
228 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 deck it was better than tramping in hot weather 
 through the dust and sand. 
 
 "Mac," said Nick, "some of these Yankees are 
 right good fellows after all." 
 
 "Yes," repHed Mac, "I reckon that, on the whole, 
 they are just about as good and as bad as we are. 
 It is hard to see ourselves as others see us." 
 
 "There is something harder to do than that, Mac, 
 and that is to reason correctly and justly when one's 
 interests and prejudices are involved." 
 
 B-O-O-M! The boat quivered and the glass 
 rattled. 
 
 "What was that.'^" was asked by several in chorus. 
 
 "It was an explosion of some kind," said Tom,^^ 
 "and it seemed to be at some point ahead of us, 
 probably Mobile." 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Tom," ^^ I am somewhat used 
 to great noises, but that beats any I ever heard, not 
 excepting the bursting of the "Lady Polk" at Co- 
 lumbus, Kentucky. My! That, certainly, was a 
 golly-whopper. The earth trembled as if riven by an 
 earthquake." 
 
 On arriving at Mobile it was learned that in moving 
 the ammunition surrendered by General Taylor a 
 loaded bomb was dropped, and its bursting resulted 
 in the explosion of many tons of powder. All over 
 the city sheds were shaken down and panes of glass 
 
THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 229 
 
 crashed by the concussion, and many people were 
 said to have been buried under the ruins. 
 
 The Gulf and its Chief Tributary 
 
 He was a shrewd if not a wise man who said, "I 
 don't often meet with disappointment, for the simple 
 reason that I am not such a fool as to expect much 
 from people." This accords with the beatitude, 
 "Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he 
 shall not be disappointed." Company Q, being thus 
 blessed, was prepared for a cheerful acceptance of 
 whatever fell to its lot, be it a comfort or a discom- 
 fort. This was nowhere more fully exemplified than 
 in its voyage across the Gulf. 
 
 The Federal officer in charge readily gave the men 
 an order for transportation by boat to New Orleans, 
 and in doing so pleasantly remarked, "I am treating 
 you fellows to a delightful sea voyage." 
 
 "For which we sincerely thank you," ventured 
 Mac. 
 
 "When you go aboard," said he, "if you see cause 
 to withdraw your thanks remember it is the best 
 we can do to-day in the way of a boat. However," 
 continued he with a broad smile on his frank face, 
 "I guess it is good enough for you rebels." 
 
 Mac, seeing that he was chock-full of humor and 
 
230 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 believing that no man thus equipped can be very 
 narrow or sensitive, retorted, "Captain, we now see 
 it is not true, as we have long been led to believe, 
 that a smile on a Yankee's face is so unfamiliar to 
 his features that they don't know how to manage it." 
 At which the captain and all his office crew joined 
 the "rebels" in a prolonged and hearty laugh. 
 
 "That's a splendid fellow," said Tom,^^ as the 
 boys walked away. 
 
 On boarding the vessel it was seen to be old and 
 dilapidated; and worse still, the great explosion of 
 the day before had blown off the top of one of the 
 wheelhouses. 
 
 "Hello, Mac! How about the thanks.?" 
 
 "They stand," said Mac. "This is far better than 
 we're used to, and as for safety that officer is of the 
 kind that would never send men where he would 
 not go himself, I don't care if he is a Yankee." 
 
 As usual the "berth" assigned the fellows was the 
 hurricane deck, "thus honoring us as preferred 
 guests," said the witty Ben, "by putting us above 
 everybody else." The big bell tapped, the great wheel 
 began churning the water, and the old craft glided out 
 to sea. As she got more and more under good head- 
 way the water spouted higher and higher through 
 the top of the wheelhouse and poured right into the 
 berth of Company Q. 
 
THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 231 
 
 "Boys," again spoke Ben, " that officer was even 
 more thoughtful of our welfare than we supposed; 
 he knew we all needed a good washing. Think of 
 it, a salt water bath!" 
 
 Now and then brisk gales made violent onsets 
 against the falling streams of water, and drove them 
 in tiny jets or spray in every direction. However, 
 here and there were places uninvaded by jet or 
 spray, and in these dry spots the passengers huddled 
 like cattle in the shade of a lone tree. Under 
 such conditions the wanton expenditure of pent- 
 up energy was bound to break loose. And at it they 
 went — songs, jokes, pranks, and stunts of many 
 descriptions. For hilarity, this water trip was un- 
 surpassed even by the land trip on the "crazy 
 train." 
 
 A black waiter slipped away from below and came 
 up to enjoy the show. He was at home "wid dese 
 white boys," for he had romped with their kind on 
 many a similar frolic. The boys "took him in" at 
 once, for they also knew his kind. Sam Jones says: 
 "Shooting at birds with blank cartridges is just 
 about as amusing to the birds as to the boys." 
 "Henry" was just the target the boys wanted for a 
 good old time like they used to have around the 
 "swimming hole"; and while the jokes were pretty 
 rough on Henry, he would have been disappointed — 
 
232 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 positively aggrieved — had he not received just such 
 a mark of distinguished consideration. 
 
 "Is yu all got enny good water fur to drink?" 
 asked Henry. 
 
 "No," said a dozen voices. 
 
 "Den I'se gwine to fetch yu sum, but don't yu 
 
 let dem gent'men 
 down dar know 
 'bout it." 
 
 So Company Q 
 was supplied with 
 abundance of fresh 
 cool water. As for 
 food, the situation 
 was thus told by 
 Ben: "If we ob- 
 served the same Godlike temperance in all things 
 that we do in eating we might be canonized for 
 saints." 
 
 The next morning a loud and long huzza rent the 
 air as the dark line of the Louisiana shore rose above 
 the sea. Eyes beamed with delight, and here and 
 there a rough hand brushed off a tear trickling down 
 a bronzed cheek. The party boarded the old Pont- 
 chartrain Railroad, along which the infant Nick 
 had been carried just twenty years before. Ragged, 
 hungry, and penniless, they landed in the heart of 
 
THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 238 
 
 the great metropolis. Not knowing what else to do, 
 they established "temporary quarters" in an old 
 vacant cotton shed. But they were not long alone. 
 The ladies, ever on the lookout for homeward bound 
 Confederates, began moving in that direction, and 
 they were not of the kind who are so much like men 
 that men often forget what is due them as women. 
 
 Embarrassed by their own unsightly garb the 
 first impulse of the men on seeing the ladies was to 
 hide. While "fine feathers make fine birds," the re- 
 verse is not always true. Despite the aspects of raga- 
 muflSns, these boys were gentlemen born and bred. 
 Those elegant ladies, having no less of bonhomie 
 than refinement, put the men at ease. By their 
 words and manners the boys came to feel that they 
 were the more appreciated for the very hardships 
 of which they bore ample testimony. They were 
 shown to a lavatory, where they had the joy and 
 privilege of bathing like gentlemen. Then followed 
 a meal consisting of such articles of food as the ladies 
 already had prepared. Throughout the war the 
 women of New Orleans were widely known for their 
 Spartan valor, trueness to the cause, and kindnesses 
 to Confederate soldiers. 
 
 Early in the war, coffee was sometimes issued to 
 the men. No company ever had more than one or 
 two coffee mills, and of course these sooner or later 
 
234 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 became very dull. One Sunday morning Jim was 
 sitting on a log trying to grind coffee on a worn-out 
 machine. 
 
 To one of the men passing by he exclaimed, " Mat,^^ 
 
 this is a very in- 
 dustrious mill." 
 
 "How do you 
 make that out, 
 :... Jim.?" 
 
 "When it gets 
 
 done with one grain 
 
 it starts on another." 
 
 Likewise, Company Q, on boarding a boat to go 
 
 up the river, might have said, "When we get done 
 
 with one hurricane deck we start on another." 
 
 The old Mississippi again ! What a train of memo- 
 ries the sight of it awakened ! Much of the soldiering 
 of these veterans had been spent on its banks. Of 
 Columbus, Island No. 10, New Madrid, Fort Pillow, 
 Memphis, Vicksburg, and Port Hudson they had 
 feeling recollections — pleasant and unpleasant. At 
 all these points they had seen their comrades struck 
 down by bullets or disease. But recollections of the 
 battle's roar and the funeral march were mollified 
 by remembrances of many a frolic on land and in 
 the water. 
 
 Up the Mississippi they went, thence up the Red 
 
THE HOME STRETCH 235 
 
 and Ouachita Rivers into northern Louisiana. Here 
 and there one, two, or more of them left the boat 
 as they reached their respective landing places. With 
 each departure there were cordial handshakes and 
 many a "God bless you" uttered in broken voices 
 and with tear-moistened eyes. Among the last to 
 leave the boat was a party of about fifteen, including 
 Nick, who landed at the old town of Trenton late 
 in the afternoon. The place was about sixty miles 
 from their homes, but this "short distance" was 
 considered an easy two-days' walk. 
 
 The Home Stretch 
 
 In the piny woods twelve miles from Trenton is 
 a beautiful branch, to which the crowd at once 
 started, cheered by the prospects of a refreshing bath 
 in its clear running water. The walk was strenuous, 
 and after the bath they slept soundly on the green 
 sward beneath the trees. With clean skins and empty 
 stomachs their homeward tramp was resumed early 
 in the morning. Near Douglas they halted, and 
 while resting in the shade of an oak, Nick said : 
 
 "Boys, here we come to the parting of the ways. 
 The Forest Grove chaps— Mark, ^^ Tom,i^ William,^^ 
 and I — will now leave the main road and take a 
 short cut to our homes." 
 
236 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 
 A shadow of sadness fell over *'this last assembly," 
 and for the time there was little talking, no joking, 
 no hilarity. After a bit Mac flashed into the cloud 
 of gloom a ray of light and cheer with the sug- 
 gestion : 
 
 "Bo3^s, let us now agree that when any one of 
 j.v.^ us gets married all the others will 
 
 be expected to attend, without 
 further invitation." 
 
 The motion was received with 
 cheers, and unanimously adopted; 
 and in the months and years which 
 followed Nick had the pleasure 
 of seeing nearly everyone of the 
 party promoted from a celibate 
 to a benedict. Many of the mem- 
 bers of that "last assembly" have 
 crossed over the abyss that sepa- 
 rates time and eternity. Of the 
 few still living are Tom^^ Mat^^ 
 and Tom ^\ 
 
 The next day Nick's party 
 reached the old 
 Cane Ridge and 
 Homer road — that 
 along which Nick 
 and Step had played 
 
 ""^^>p^ 
 
THE HOME STRETCH 237 
 
 a long time ago (see page 84). Near the cabin in 
 which they had taken refuge from the storm, 
 Nick lay down in the shade and stretched out his 
 weary limbs on the soft grassy sward. On a bush 
 near by a wren piped its old-time song, and perched 
 on the knot of a tall dead pine a woodpecker beat 
 a faultless long roll. "Jay, jay, jay!" chanted a 
 blue jay in a great hickory tree, while the breeze- 
 swept pines filled the air with a soft melody not 
 unlike the hum of a swarming colony of bees. These 
 notes of the woods, so familiar to Nick in his boyhood 
 days, started within him a responsive train of 
 memories : 
 
 *' Nowhere in all my ups and downs has life been so 
 joyous, so blithe, and so worth while as amid the 
 scenes along this road and the two old plantations 
 it connects. They now hover over and envelop me 
 like a delicate fragrance. The remembrance of other 
 events may stir my heart, but the memory of these 
 alone stirs my soul. Here all things that have been 
 most important in my life had their beginning. When 
 first I traveled this road my great desire was to see 
 the new place; now the oldness of the same place 
 appeals to me as the newness of it never did." 
 
 Continued he, "The glory of war! What a strange 
 hallucination! Except for the toil, sacrifice, and 
 suffering that men endure for an ideal it is a misnomer, 
 
238 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 misconception, mockery. How few of the struggling 
 troops ever think of the ideals, how many know 
 nothing of the great underlying causes. Reason! 
 In the tenets and doings of war is a strange place to 
 look for it. One might as well expect to find sweet- 
 ness in a crowd of boys tussling for pennies. Often 
 has a battle reminded me of the fight between the 
 dogs and the cat (page 27). With little thought of 
 ideals and causes, mastery was the end aimed at 
 and the arts of primitive instincts the means em- 
 ployed. War settles only questions of might, and 
 it is a sad commentary on civilization that quarrels 
 between states and nations are not adjusted by ar- 
 bitration." 
 
 It was the seventh day of June, 1865 — the thirty- 
 fifth and last day of the long tramp — and a little 
 after nightfall, that Nick walked up to the front 
 gate of his dear old home. For many weary days 
 the home folks had been watching for his coming. 
 The bark of an old hound, now a stranger to the boy 
 who had raised him, announced the arrival of the 
 unknown. In a twinkling there was a rush in that 
 direction from all quarters. Here came the whites, 
 the blacks, and the dogs, each one making a racket 
 of some character. In the midst of the uproar, 
 with the arms of his three sisters about him, Nick 
 heard Uncle Wash say, "My son! We are so glad 
 
THE HOME STRETCH 
 
 239 
 
 a* 
 
 to see you!" which, as Nick knew, was far for his 
 father to go in the way of a demonstrative greeting. 
 The darkies pohtely stood aloof until the saluta- 
 tions of the whites had somewhat abated. 
 Good Old Uncle Nathan, unable to re- 
 strain himself longer, burst in, and seiz- 
 ing Nick by the arms, exclaimed, "Bless 
 de Lawd fur all his mercies; de boy is 
 cum back to us er man." Aunt Gallic, 
 Nick's old nurse, came next, and grasping 
 his hands she sobbed, "My dear baby 
 boy! What fur you stay so long.? 
 Yo Gallic ben waitin', watchin', and " 
 
 prayin' fur yu all 
 dese years. My! 
 What a big un my 
 baby is got to 
 
240 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 
 
 be !" To her hand Nick held fast for the very com- 
 fort to be had from that hvmg contact. One by 
 one he shook hands with all the darkies, though 
 so many of the younger ones had grown out of his 
 knowledge, he had often to ask who they were. 
 
 Later on, when the moon was creeping down 
 behind the trees, Nick and his sister "Duck" ^^ sat 
 alone on the front gallery, and in reverie watched 
 the gathering shadows. Each felt that the other 
 was thinking of her whose absence was the one great 
 blank in the joy of Nick's home-coming. 
 
 "Brother," said the sister, "her anxiety for you 
 and the other three boys wore out her sweet life. 
 Oh, the saddest day I have ever known was that in 
 which I followed her dear body to the cedars in the 
 old churchyard." 
 
 Somewhere nearby a cricket chirped sadly "as if it 
 were human and could understand." Likewise sang 
 the katydids in an oak near the house. 
 
 To bring back the brightness which had gone out 
 of things Nick went off on a new tack, 
 
 "Sister, how about my sleeping to-night.^ For a 
 long time my bed has been a blanket spread on the 
 ground with a chunk under one end of it for a pil- 
 low. Really I feel that one of that kind out there 
 under the trees would be the most comfortable 
 bed you could give me." 
 
THE HOME STRETCH 241 
 
 It was hard for him to convince her that he meant 
 what he said. At last she said, "I wish you to sleep 
 in the house; I can give you a hard mattress and a 
 bolt of cottonade for a pillow." 
 
 Duck smiled, and Nick smiled when he saw her 
 fixing his bed that way. With a sweet caress she 
 bade him good night. 
 
 Nick stretched himself out on the hard, but to 
 him comfortable, bed, and lay for a long time star- 
 ing through the open window up into the night. 
 The stars were shining as in the days long gone by, 
 but all else, how changed. He closed his eyes and 
 gradually memories of the loved and the lost sank 
 to rest like the waves at sea when the storm is spent. 
 *' Something in his brain, which seemed to tick the 
 slow movement of time, came suddenly to a stop 
 like a clock that has run down," and Nick was 
 asleep. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 The names of persons called in the hook by their nicknames or 
 by their Christian names. 
 
 1. Judge W. F. Blackmail, 
 
 Alexandria, La. 
 
 2. John A. Tray lor, Los 
 
 Angeles, Cal. 
 
 3. Capt. W. A. Miller, 
 
 Amarillo, Tex. 
 
 4. Capt. J. L. Bond, Rus- 
 
 ton, La. 
 
 5. W. C. Boring, Shreve- 
 
 port, La. 
 
 6. B. F. Sikes, , 
 
 Tex. 
 
 7. H. W. Menefee, Homer, 
 
 La. 
 
 8. Maj. J. W. Boring, 
 
 Longview, Tex. 
 
 9. Capt. J. F. Taylor, 
 
 Amarillo, Tex. 
 
 10. James Bernard, 
 
 IL S. W. Menefee, Cotton 
 
 Valley, Ala. 
 
 n. Maj. R. L. Pruyn, 
 Baton Rouge, La. 
 
 13. Capt. Leon Polk, Bast- 
 
 rop, La. 
 
 14. T. McEachern, Shon- 
 
 galoo. La. 
 
 15. Hon. A. T. Nelson, 
 
 Homer, La. 
 
 16. D. McD. Crow, Natchi- 
 
 touches. La. 
 
 17. T. J. Baker, Athens, La. 
 
 18. Mat. Haynes, Shong- 
 
 aloo. La. 
 
 19. Dr. M. A. Taylor, 
 
 Honey Grove, Tex. 
 
 20. Wm. Martin, Sherman, 
 
 Tex. 
 
 21. Mrs. J. W. Willis, 
 
 Shreveport, La. 
 
 22. Hon. H. C. Mitchell, 
 
 Homer, La. 
 
 242 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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