THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 SHADOW OF THE WAR 
 
 of tfje 
 
 IN RECONSTRUCTION TIMES. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 JANSEN, McCLURG, & COMPANY. 
 
 1884.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 
 BY JAXSEN, McCLURG, & CO., 
 A. D. 1884.
 
 PS 
 
 111 
 
 AiSy? 
 
 Cfje 
 
 WHOSE SUGGESTION FIRST PROMPTED THE WORK, AND WHOSE 
 ENCOURAGEMENT MATERIALLY ASSISTED TOWARDS 
 
 ITS COMPLETION, 
 THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 13SECC5
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. THE CITY OF CARROLLTON, - ... 5 
 
 II. A FISHING EXCURSION, .... 12 
 
 III. THE FISHERMEN'S LUCK, .... 21 
 
 IV. A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED, ... 30 
 
 V. MR. GlLDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME F. F. V., - 39 
 
 VI. THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE, ... 50 
 
 VII. "A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT," - - 64 
 
 VIII. A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER, - - '- 76 
 
 IX. ONE OF A NEW GENERATION, ... 91 
 
 X. SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED, .... 99 
 
 XI. MlSS GlLDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION, IIO 
 
 XII. A MIDNIGHT ALARM, - - 120 
 
 XIII. MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY, - - 128 
 
 XIV. A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH, - - - 136 
 
 XV. "A POLITICAL Boss," ... . 146 
 
 XVI. MR. GlLDERSLEEVE BECOMES MORE DISGUSTED, 159 
 
 XVII. A LEGISLATIVE SCENE, - 165 
 
 XVIII. SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS, - - - 183 
 
 XIX. A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES, - - 193 
 
 XX. THE EXPEDITION, ------ 212 
 
 (3)
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXI. THE PUNISHMENT, - - - - - 220 
 
 XXII. THE PURSUIT, 229 
 
 XXIII. A REVELATION, - - - . - . . 240 
 
 XXIV. POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY, ... 250 
 
 XXV. THE BEGINNING OF THE END, ... 258 
 
 XXVI. THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL, ... 270 
 
 XXVII. THE POLITICIANS' STROKE, 284 
 
 XXVIII. A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE, .... 295 
 
 XXIX. AFTER THE COMBAT, 308 
 
 XXX. A SURPRISE, 323 
 
 XXXI. EXPLANATIONS, 333 
 
 XXXII. THE TRIAL, 342 
 
 XXXIII. THE VERDICT, 356 
 
 XXXIV. MAN PROPOSES, BUT WOMAN ? ... 365 
 
 XXXV. CONCLUSION, 372
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CITY OF CARROLLTON. 
 
 r I "'HE period of war had passed ; its horrors and 
 JL its crimes, its heroisms and its martyrdoms, 
 belonged to a past equally sacred in the eyes of both 
 combatants. But throughout that sunny Southland, 
 where nature's gifts are lavished so carelessly, there 
 still remained many marks of those four bloody years. 
 On every side the earth was trampled ; in the mad, 
 reckless fight the invaded people lightly sacrificed 
 possessions they prized next to life, in order that the 
 enemy might not employ them; or the victor destroyed 
 whatever lay in his path, that the victory might be 
 more complete. Between the two, the work was done 
 well ; so well, that it is not hard to imagine the satis 
 faction of the Evil Spirit when he heard the distant 
 sounds. 
 
 However, the war was ended, and the country had 
 peace, as many people thought. But did they think 
 correctly? By no means. Not immediately was the 
 South prepared to accept the results as final. The 
 overthrow of all her preconceived ideas constituted 
 a change too stupendous to be accepted in a moment, 
 and in her night of despair she could not, she would 
 
 (5)
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 not, open her eyes and see the prescribed road. Beaten 
 in war, she endeavored by legislation to reverse what 
 her sword could not prevent ; and among the horrors 
 of the Reconstruction period, Kukluxism arose to de 
 grade her civilization before the world. But do what 
 she would, her aims were foiled at every step. The 
 negro was a freedman, and all her efforts against his 
 exercise of suffrage were but the last struggles of an 
 expiring oligarchy. Kukluxism was the fit offspring 
 of such an hour of birth. Child as it was of a period 
 of anarchy, nursed in the atmosphere of revolution, its 
 means and its aims were alike unworthy of success, and 
 in its very birth they bred the seeds of self-destruction. 
 Gradually and reluctantly the South saw that the 
 struggle was of no avail. But ah ! the truth was bitter 
 to acknowledge. Slowly she accepted it, but in her ter 
 rible anguish she failed to see the remedy. Then came 
 the period of despair, when her hopelessness was as 
 profound as her action had been energetic. Having 
 lost that for which her people had fought so bravely, 
 she believed all lost, and saw not that there was a way 
 open to future and more substantial prosperity. She 
 had created her own ideal ; losing this, she could ap 
 preciate no foreign gods, and time alone could bring 
 reconcilement. 
 
 Hence it was, that, stunned at last by the realiza 
 tion of a defeat she never dreamed possible, crippled 
 and bleeding from a uselessly prolonged struggle, now 
 that her arrogant self-assertion was so sorely wounded, 
 the South lay, careless of her fate, at the feet of her 
 conqueror, and paid but little heed to the hordes of 
 vultures which had been attracted by the smell of blood. 
 Was there ever a field of battle where they could not
 
 THE CITY OF CARROLLTON. 
 
 be found after the smoke had cleared away ? Was 
 there ever a victorious army that did not leave in its 
 train thousands of human vultures ready to exhaust the 
 few drops of blood remaining in the victim ? And was 
 there ever a land undergoing revolution, where there 
 was not a scum of its own production rising to the 
 surface ? 
 
 This, then, was the problem being worked out in 
 these years. Bereft of her wealth and exhausted in her 
 resources, the South struggled on, not always wisely, 
 until conviction was forced upon her, and then she 
 quickly sank into a profound apathy. No sooner did 
 she yield, than the carpet-baggers, those human vul 
 tures with political instincts, swooped down upon the 
 tempting prize. They came in flocks from all parts of 
 the Union ; some few were home birds. If the South 
 was to survive her wounds, she had still to fight these 
 more subtle enemies who sought to prey upon her mis 
 fortunes and to take advantage of her numerous errors. 
 Would she ever escape ? Would she ever shake off her 
 indifference and crush these drinkers of blood ? We 
 shall see. 
 
 In ante-bellum days, the city of Carrollton had been 
 one of the fairest in the South. Settled in the early 
 colonial life of our country, by refugees from religious 
 proscription, it soon grew rapidly, and acquired, mainly 
 through commerce, an importance in this section of the 
 Republic. Its blood and its money had been freely 
 expended for the sake of liberty in the wars against 
 England, and the reputation of its people for military 
 enterprise and steadfast adherence to principle had 
 been maintained under all circumstances. Prior to 
 the war, however, the city had become in many res-
 
 8 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 pects very provincial, and lacked that element of pro- 
 gressiveness which is so conspicuous a characteristic of 
 our American towns. It was not difficult to under 
 stand the reasons for this peculiarity : they were, in 
 deed, very apparent to the observer, since underlying 
 them all was the institution of slavery. Its early set 
 tlers had acquired large estates, which became im 
 mensely valuable because of the cotton and rice they 
 bore for the export trade. These lands had remained 
 almost entirely in the hands of the old families, who 
 also owned numerous slaves. The revenues yielded 
 were abundant, and placed their possessors on the 
 plane of luxurious opulence. Of course, an aristoc 
 racy was in time created, with its inevitable distinc 
 tions between itself and the plebeian. Naturally, all 
 the reins of government were held by the former class ; 
 and as life was easy for them, as there was no 
 stimulus to stir them to constant activity, they quietly 
 settled down in the ways of their fathers. The world 
 moved on, and Carrollton, in her slow metropolitan 
 growth, failed to accomplish the brilliant promises of 
 her youth. 
 
 But if she lagged behind in extending the city limits, 
 the development of her people progressed rapidly, and 
 consisted, it might be said, of an assiduous cultivation 
 of themselves in every respect. The absence of an 
 active and continuous growth did not concern the good 
 citizens. Quantity was absolutely nothing to them, 
 except, possibly, as it might increase their national 
 importance. They were quite content that the high 
 degree of their excellence, as measured by a self- 
 erected standard, should compensate for other defi 
 ciencies. The manners of the people the allusion of
 
 THE CITY OF CARROLLTON. 
 
 course being to the representative class became ele 
 gant and accomplished. Their reputation for indi 
 vidual refinement was as extensive as it was well 
 founded. Their attainments in the arts and sciences, 
 as well as in literature, were excellent, and not a few 
 of her sons had acquired more than a local celebrity. 
 In politics she had sent to the Capitol men who helped 
 to shape the destinies of the land, and whose eloquence 
 had startled a nation. Unfortunately, however, they 
 did not see that the very circumstances which per 
 mitted the maturity of their powers, also afforded 
 nutriment for their idiosyncrasies and vices. They 
 knew their good qualities, without seeing the defects ; 
 and the possession of great wealth, which from its 
 nature was but slightly subject to serious reverses and 
 promoted the formation of powerful families, tended 
 to foster this egotism. It accustomed the owners to 
 contemn with the eye of conscious superiority all who 
 were beyond their pale ; and the sense of power and 
 authority gradually became welded into their natures. 
 The rich Southerner had no opposition to encounter 
 in his personal affairs. His word was law over his 
 estate, and his class ruled at least the local politics of 
 the hour. Coming of a family founded in early colo 
 nial days, which acquired both wealth and solidity in 
 each succeeding generation, he felt proud of his blue 
 blood, and was loth to admit to an equality with him 
 self any save those whose right was as undisputed as 
 his own. Their over-weening self-confidence, their 
 excessive and often unjust exclusiveness, are readily 
 recognized as the fruit of a long germination ; and 
 while they were brave and gallant men, equally ready 
 to fight a duel or to wage a war, their pride disdained
 
 10 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 what seemed to them inferiority, and they were sensi 
 tive in the extreme to any encroachment upon what 
 they deemed their inherited rights, won in the revolu 
 tionary struggle. Their arrogant disposition was quickly 
 demonstrated, oftentimes unfortunately, preventing rec 
 ognition of their surpassing generosity, and reputing 
 to them other qualities not so naturally acquired nor so 
 easily excused 
 
 The war, however, had left them sadly demoralized. 
 The shock of the result had been very great, and as a 
 consequence the people had taken but little inter 
 est in political affairs since the downfall of the Con 
 federacy. How the local government had fallen into 
 the hands of the Radical party, is now common matter 
 of history ; and it is also well known how the final 
 complete indifference of the whites permitted the 
 negro, unmolested for a time, the full enjoyment of his 
 newly acquired ' privileges. Nor did the stagnation 
 affect the people of Carrollton only as regards politics ; 
 trade, commerce, society, all were involved. True, the 
 business interests of the city had just begun to revive ; 
 but years must necessarily elapse before her recovery, 
 after the loss of so much capital, could be complete. 
 Before the war, her position in the South had been a 
 commanding one ; now, her prestige and capital were 
 gone ; then, she had owned the chief railroads center 
 ing around her ; now, these roads were ruined or oper 
 ated in favor of other cities, and rival lines had been 
 built. Then, she had a large local business from the 
 immense surrounding plantations ; now, this trade was 
 virtually gone. Finally, her present government offered 
 no temptation to investment. Taxes were ruinously 
 high; and the race problem, yet to be solved, rendered
 
 THE CITY OF CARROLLTON. 
 
 the situation too uncertain to suit the timidity of cap 
 ital. Indeed, this race problem was the great and 
 absorbing question, at the time, to the whole land. 
 For the past few years, the apathy of the whites had 
 given complete reign to the carpet-bag rule, and its 
 sway was now undisputed, save in very exceptional 
 instances. But could this condition of affairs continue 
 any length of time ? Was it a normal result ? Was 
 the solution of the problem to be, that intelligence and 
 capital, because linked with numerical weakness, should 
 yield to the demands of ignorance and poverty, 
 even though they floated on the wave of majority ? 
 The problem was unanswered ; and the uncertainties 
 of the situation spread their deepening shadows over 
 the commercial prosperity and enterprise of the city.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 
 
 ONE Saturday afternoon, in the early autumn of 
 187 , a small sloop was lazily beating down the 
 coast a few miles north of Carrollton harbor. The day 
 had been oppressively hot, slightly relieved now by a 
 gentle southeast breeze, which came in puffs, and was 
 barely enough to steady a sail. The yacht moved along 
 slowly and rather spasmodically under its influence, 
 holding the low sandy coast in easy sight on the west. 
 Afar off to the east, beneath a sky flecked occasionally 
 by the snowy summer cloud, the Atlantic Ocean lay 
 stretched in blue expanse to the horizon, the calm of 
 its surface broken only by light ripples. The yacht 
 was a beautiful vessel of a few tons burthen. Her hull 
 was painted white, with an azure streak above the water 
 line, and on each side of her bow was lettered in gold 
 the word " ELLA." At present, she was gracefully toy 
 ing with the waters ; but her trim-built, rakish model, 
 her tapering mast and huge mainsail, at once suggested 
 strength and speed. No other vessel was in sight, and 
 the occupants of the " Ella " were the only living 
 beings to be seen, except that perhaps once in a long 
 while a huge porpoise would rise to the surface of the 
 water, attest his surprise at their presence by an ugly 
 snort, and then, as if abashed by his own temerity, 
 as suddenly disappear. Or a few gulls might be seen 
 
 (12)
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 13 
 
 hovering overhead, searching for the luck that would 
 give them a good fat fish to dine upon. 
 
 In the boat were four men. One, a negro, was at 
 the rudder, and held the mainsheet. Another negro 
 was engaged in washing a few plates and clearing 
 away the remains of a dinner. The other two were 
 white, and were stretched listlessly on the small for 
 ward deck in the shelter afforded by the jib from the 
 ^un's rays. Occasionally they exchanged remarks, but 
 apparently they were either satisfied with their own 
 thoughts, or else very intent on watching the wreathing 
 curls of smoke as it issued from their short pipes. 
 Both were young men, of about twenty-eight or twenty- 
 nine years of age. In appearance they presented a 
 marked contrast. The one possessed naturally a rich 
 olive complexion, which now, at the close of summer, 
 was swarthy from frequent exposure. His countenance 
 was thoughtful, and the air of dignity which it carried 
 sufficiently compensated for the irregularity of its 
 lines. A large mouth, shaded partially by a jet black 
 moustache, firmly set lips occasionally disclosing a 
 glistening set of teeth, a square chin and a massive 
 lower jaw, gave to his face a cast of resoluteness 
 which his friends claimed was an outline of his char 
 acter. Rich brown eyes, in which a deep intelligence 
 shone, relieved his face of what would otherwise have 
 been an air of severity ; and at times, the tenderness 
 of their expression, or the merry humor flashing from 
 their depths, repelled the suspicion of asceticism. 
 While scarcely handsome, his whole countenance im 
 pressed one with the belief that Maurice Graham was 
 a man of action, of decision ; and the refined features 
 bespoke the gentleman, consorting strangely, however,
 
 U THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 but for the time and place, with his apparel. In his 
 shirt sleeves, with a broad-brimmed straw hat perched 
 upon his head, and wearing a loose pair of brown 
 trowsers, he rested on his side, his head supported by 
 one arm, and watched the smoke curling up from his 
 pipe. 
 
 Similarly attired and engaged was his companion, 
 whose light hair and blue-gray eyes marked him of a 
 widely divergent temperament. His face was reddened 
 by the sun, but possessed so amiable a cast that the 
 observer could easily have imagined its owner a favor 
 ite with both men and women. Like Graham, he was 
 of medium height, the former being slightly the taller. 
 Their well-proportioned figures, and the easy and 
 graceful attitudes in which they lay, attested to that 
 robust physical development which is the outcome of 
 a good constitution and active open-air sports. 
 
 In the bottom of the boat was a small quantity of 
 fish which had been caught during the day. Maurice 
 Graham and Edward Gravoir had left the city of Car- 
 rollton early that morning, in the former's yacht, to 
 seek a favorite fishing-ground some distance up the 
 coast ; and having spent the day in enjoyment of the 
 sport, the boat's bow had been turned homewards. 
 
 Somewhat wearied by the exercise and intense heat 
 of the day, they were now quietly taking an after- 
 dinner smoke. The easy motion of the boat perhaps 
 increased their lazy contentment with the hour, some 
 time having elapsed since any words had been ex 
 changed ; and the silence was disturbed only by the 
 gentle rippling of the water around the boat's bow, or 
 by some unusual clatter as the negro washed the plates 
 and tins.
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 15 
 
 Suddenly the voice of the man at the helm broke 
 upon the air : 
 
 "We'se gittin 'long purty slow, ain't we, Mars 
 Maurice ? " 
 
 Receiving no answer, the negro queried : 
 
 " Is yer sleepin', sah ? " 
 
 " No, Caesar," replied Graham, aroused from his 
 revery. " What's the matter? " 
 
 " Dere is bery little wind blowin'. Don't yer tink 
 we be movin' bery slow fur sich a long way as we is 
 from home ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Is that all ? Well, I guess we can't help 
 ourselves. Don't be impatient, Caesar ; we'll get home 
 bye-and-bye." And as if the matter was finally settled, 
 Graham turned over and resumed his pipe and revery. 
 
 Some minutes passed, when Caesar's voice again 
 disturbed the silence : 
 
 " Fur lors a' mussy sakes ! Mars Maurice ! do git 
 up and look ober yonder ! Jes' look ! It's gwine ter 
 blow like de bery ole Satan hissef 'fo' night." 
 
 Roused this time by the decided emphasis of the 
 negro's voice, both the young men turned and looked 
 towards the northeast. Rising up from the horizon was 
 an irregular pyramid of black clouds ; the sky over 
 head, however, was still clear, and the sun was baking 
 fiercely on their heads. But in a moment they knew 
 well what was at hand ; they were too accustomed to 
 the tornadoes of their coast at this season of the year 
 not to realize fully the meaning of that leaden bank 
 against the sky. The breeze had almost died away, 
 there being now barely enough to give the slightest 
 motion to the yacht, and the air was oppressively 
 sultry. Immediately they all grasped the situation, 
 B
 
 16 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 and each man knew that they must be ready to receive 
 the squall when it came, or the boat might be swamped 
 by the first gust. In a moment Maurice Graham had 
 thrown off his lethargy, and appeared the captain of the 
 party by tacit consent. With a light easy step, he was 
 quickly at the rudder. 
 
 "This water will be jumping high, directly," said 
 Ned Gravoir, anxiously scanning the clouds. " What 
 will you do, Maurice ?" 
 
 " Caesar and I will stay in the sternsheets ; you and 
 Sam manage the sails. Clear away those ropes from 
 the pump ; we shall need it," answered Maurice, as he 
 coolly blew away some ashes from his pipe. 
 
 " Mars Maurice," asked Caesar, " is yer gwine to run 
 afo' de win' ? " 
 
 "Yes, straight away down to South Island. It's 
 our best chance. Take in a couple of reefs, Ned, 
 lively ! " 
 
 " Well, den, 'fo' de Lord, we'se got a chance ter 
 do some swimmin'," muttered Caesar, between his 
 teeth, as he rolled up his sleeves ; "but it won't be de 
 fust time." 
 
 " Aye ! aye ! " sung out Ned. " All's ready." 
 
 And well it might be ; for a minute afterward a 
 sharp streak of lightning darted across the northern 
 sky ; then followed a terrific crash of thunder, and the 
 frightened gulls shrieked in alarm as they hastily sought 
 the shore. 
 
 Away off in the distance there was for a minute or 
 two a low rumbling, gradually increasing, broken at 
 short intervals by peals of thunder. On, on, it came ; 
 a sudden gust bathed their faces in a delicious cool 
 ness, and passed rapidly by ; it was only the advance-
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 
 
 guard of the coming fury. Now again only the low 
 rumbling was heard, and now but ah ! the boat gives 
 a shiver, as if at last she too were frightened. In a 
 moment the fierce northeast wind has seized her in its 
 grasp, and she plunges madly as if seeking to escape 
 its vengeance. The foam begins to play around the 
 bow, as she dashes headlong forward. Every rope is 
 now taut, and the boat careens low on one side as the 
 sails fill out with the wind. Each of the men instinct 
 ively compresses his lips, and crouches closer at his 
 post of duty. As yet the vessel feels only the wind ; 
 and with her slender mast bending. under the strain, 
 the little craft quivers as her bow cleaves the waters. 
 The waves have hardly had time to roll themselves up 
 in full size, but as they pile one upon the other, their 
 height grows greater each minute. Yonder in the 
 wake comes that black wall of water, looking as though 
 it would engulf the little vessel in its ugly bosom. 
 Closer it draws, and towers high above them ; the stern 
 of" the sloop is seized, and it seemed that the pon 
 derous mass was falling and would scatter the timbers 
 far and wide. The negroes held their breath ; but the 
 wheel moved lightly in Maurice's hand, and the boat's 
 bow swerved a point as she rose unhurt upon the crest. 
 
 But now the white-caps follow in quick succession, 
 growing taller each time ; and as the gale deepens, the 
 boat seems in almost constant danger of being swal 
 lowed up. 
 
 "Stand by to lower the mainsail ! " cried Graham. 
 
 " Aye ! aye ! " sung Ned, and directly the sail came 
 rattling down. In its fall the boat lost her head for a 
 minute, and a wave dashed over the deck, drenching
 
 18 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the men and half filling the open hold. Rapidly the 
 sail was secured, and the two men set vigorously to 
 work at the pump. Another such wave would swamp 
 them. 
 
 With only a jib flying, the yacht scudded along. 
 The wind howled and the spray flew wildly around. 
 How long this gale would last, they knew not ; but 
 each man felt that any error on Maurice's part would 
 send them all below ; for to be upset in such a mass of 
 seething waters meant death. That so small a boat 
 could live amid such a tumult, seemed marvelous ; it 
 was only because her management was in the care of a 
 man inured from childhood to similar experiences, and 
 whose unflinching nerve nothing could disturb. 
 
 They had run along rapidly for some time, and were 
 nearing the upper channel. Now, with a huge wall of 
 water towering around them, and then lifted high on the 
 top of a billow, the " Ella" held her course nobly, and 
 seemed to defy the storm. No words had been spoken 
 between the men, and they hardly heeded the lapse of 
 time, so constant was their peril. The whole sky was 
 now of a leaden color, but Maurice noted that night 
 was drawing nigh. In shore, they could define the 
 sand-bar which guarded the entrance to Carrollton 
 harbor, by the more distinct line of foam and the tu 
 multuous breaking of the waves. Darkness gradually 
 grew upon the waste of raging waters, and away off 
 glimmered the light on South Island. Now it was lost, 
 as they sank low in the sea, and then, as the " Ella " 
 rose up high, its rays fell out cheerily. Could they 
 reach opposite that point, safety was assured ; for then 
 it would be an easy matter to run into one of the nu-
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 19 
 
 merous inlets. Maurice knew the locality well, and 
 with the aid of the light-house, he felt certain of the 
 course. Steadily the light grew larger ; now they were 
 opposite, and then the boat darted swiftly past, and 
 left the beacon in its wake. Over yonder to the west 
 they could hear the surf as it madly pounded the 
 beach. To be thrown up there on such a night would 
 be destruction. Maurice looked back at the light, and 
 kept the boat straight on. As he was anxiously en 
 deavoring to make out the course in the darkness, the 
 boat suddenly ceased jumping, the jib flapped, and the 
 next instant the keel sank deep in a mud-bank. Al 
 most before they were aware, the boat had run down 
 the inlet and into the cove. 
 
 To throw out the anchor and secure the jib was the 
 first work. The yacht and its crew were now safe, and 
 the excitement of danger was gone. The actual peril 
 once over, they scarcely gave any heed to the storm, 
 save to grumble at the prospect of remaining all night 
 in such an unpleasant situation. These men had long 
 been accustomed to like adventures, and they rather 
 experienced a keen pleasure in being raced along by a 
 squall. Still, in the hands of any but a skilled man, 
 the yacht would probably have foundered that after 
 noon. As it was, the men were soon engaged in mak 
 ing themselves comfortable. In a locker were bread, 
 meat, and matches; a lantern was lit, and the little party 
 grouped together near the wheel to eat their supper. 
 It was not long afterwards before the two negroes had 
 picked out the softest planks on deck, and were sound 
 asleep. The party had left the city early that morning, 
 and they were all tired. Maurice and Ned. remained
 
 20 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 some time smoking and talking, wondering, as they 
 usually did on such occasions, what the folks at home 
 would think At last they also fell asleep ; and all night 
 long the wind shrieked, and the little lantern tied to 
 the wheel twinkled its solitary flame in the intense dark 
 ness.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FISHERMEN'S LUCK. 
 
 NEXT morning, daylight was just appearing in 
 the east, when Gravoir's voice rang out 
 sharply : 
 
 " Maurice ! wake, man, wake ! There's a steamer 
 on ' Dead Man's Shoals.' " 
 
 Gravoir's voice was powerful, and as he had used it 
 with its full force, the sleepers were up in an instant. 
 Looking in the direction mentioned, they could see by 
 the dim light of early dawn a large steamship aground 
 on one of the most dangerous reefs along the coast. 
 This reef is a portion of the bar, and lies close to the 
 south channel, some little distance northeast of the 
 lighthouse. Its direction is very irregular, running in 
 places almost across the channel, and making the change 
 from deep water to shoals very precipitate. In addi 
 tion, the currents around the reef are always powerful, 
 rendering it an unsafe locality even in good weather. 
 Numerous vessels had met their end in its treacherous 
 embraces, having run ashore only to be broken up ; 
 and as many lives had been lost there because of the 
 difficulty of reaching a stranded vessel when the seas 
 were tempestuous, the place had received its dismal but 
 significant appellation. On the previous night, guided 
 by the lighthouse, Maurice had run the sloop some lit 
 tle distance outside of these shoals. 
 
 (21)
 
 22 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 The steamer was certainly in a dangerous position. 
 The four men realized at once that she must soon be 
 relieved from the strain to which she was being sub 
 jected on the shoals, or else it was only a question of 
 time that she would go to pieces. Perhaps her plight 
 had not as yet been observed by the keeper of the 
 lighthouse ; at all events, they knew that with his little 
 skiff he could give no relief. It was easy to under 
 stand that no communication would be had with the 
 steamer unless they went to her, or she could hold 
 together until her distress was perceived by a pilot 
 during the morning. So, without a second's thought, 
 they all agreed to board the vessel, although it was an 
 undertaking of some danger, not knowing in what 
 depth of water she lay, nor whether the yacht might 
 not be broken up in the attempt. But they had day 
 light and a good boat, and it was just such excitement 
 as they relished. Besides, they all felt it their duty to 
 render what assistance they could. 
 
 The wind had now considerably abated, but the 
 waves were still running high. The sky was heavily 
 overcast, and rain threatened to fall at any moment. 
 Dead Man's Shoals were a mass of foam and boiling 
 waters ; and from the men's position on the yacht, the 
 enormous waves could be seen breaking over the hap 
 less steamer. The " Ella " was quickly pushed off the 
 bank, and under a close-reefed sail the yacht sped rap 
 idly on her mission of relief. A few tacks brought 
 them pretty close to the steamer. Evidently they had 
 been observed, for a flag was run up at half-mast. Not 
 wishing to get his boat aground also, Maurice took a 
 number of tacks, which carried the yacht all around 
 the vessel, until finally they decided that it was safest
 
 THE FISHERMEN'S LUCK. 23 
 
 to board her on the southeast quarter, the only danger 
 on that side being the risk of thumping to pieces 
 against her hull. Close up the yacht ran, and the 
 moment she was alongside, down rattled the sails, and 
 around spun the httle craft, jumping and pitching in 
 the deep surges as though she was impatient to be gone. 
 But as soon as her headway had been stopped, one 
 negro cast over her side some fenders as protection 
 from the steamer, while Caesar's powerful arm tossed 
 aboard the little anchor, which was immediately 
 seized by the crew. By this time a rope had been cast 
 from the steamer, which Ned made fast, and in a very 
 few minutes the yacht was secured. The whole manoeu 
 vre was quickly and brilliantly accomplished ; and 
 directly after the two young men were clambering up 
 the vessel's side and talking to the captain. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the latter, " ship's in a bad fix, and 
 men scared. But if I can get two tugs down here 
 within a couple of hours, we might pull her offt We 
 might, but I can't say how deeply she's grounded. 
 Ugly scrape ! Blew last night like blazes. Worst I 
 ever saw ! All along the coast, storm was terrific. 
 When did we arrive ? An hour or so before daylight, 
 with ship leaking badly, so I thought I had better run 
 in. And here I am stuck ! All the boats except one 
 washed away, and things began to look gloomy." 
 
 " But what can we do for you ?" asked Maurice. 
 " Have you any passengers aboard ?" 
 
 " Just going to speak of them," replied the captain. 
 " Have a gentleman, his wife and daughter. They 
 were plucky enough last night, but running aground is 
 too much for 'em. Deuced bad scared now, they are, 
 and one of 'em's sick, too. Can't you take 'em up to
 
 24 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the city ? No telling what might happen, you know. 
 Best to be on safe side. Will send chief mate with 
 you also, and he can hunt up tugs. Eh ? Suits you ?" 
 
 "Perfectly," responded Maurice; "get them ready 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 " All right, I'll bring 'em up at once ; they'll be 
 mighty glad to leave," and the captain dived below 
 decks. 
 
 Indeed, the situation was one to excite the appre 
 hension of even those accustomed to the dangers of a 
 seafaring life. The steamer was firmly grounded ; her 
 bowsprit and wheel-house were blown away, and every 
 wave as it rolled up broke in a mass of hissing foam 
 across her forward decks. 
 
 After a short time, the captain and his three passen 
 gers emerged from the saloon stairway, and the latter 
 were hastily introduced to the two young men as Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve and daughter. The ladies, in partic 
 ular, seemed very glad to leave the steamer ; and after 
 some delay, with the aid of a number of sailors, their 
 transfer was safely effected. A moment more, and the 
 yacht's sails were spread, the ropes were cast off, and 
 away the " Ella " dashed, but not before she had 
 received, in spite of Maurice's careful management, 
 one severe thump against the steamer, thoroughly 
 drenching both crew and passengers. 
 
 The attention of the two young men had been so com 
 pletely occupied by their duties, that they had scarcely 
 noticed their new acquaintances, except to courteously 
 acknowledge the captain's off-hand introduction. The 
 yacht was now bounding along toward the south chan 
 nel ; and making everything trim, Maurice took occasion 
 to glance again at his passengers. Mr. Gildersleeve was
 
 THE FISHERMEN'S LUCK. 25 
 
 tenderly supporting his wife, a small and fragile woman, 
 who seemed greatly overcome by the situation. Ned 
 and the mate were in the waist, exchanging their expe 
 riences of the previous night ; and the two negroes 
 lolled in the bow, very glad indeed to be approaching 
 home. Maurice was steering, and on his right sat the 
 young lady, at whom he glanced for the first time. As 
 he looked, he was impressed by the almost perfect con 
 tour of her face, and the delicate chiseling of its fea 
 tures. " 'Tis exquisitely moulded," was his first thought ; 
 and the next, " but it is the face of a haughty woman ; 
 she lacks feeling." Her stature was above medium, 
 and she sat gracefully. Her head was well-shaped, but 
 was rather small for her size ; the mouth and chin were 
 faultless. He could not see her eyes well. As she sat 
 looking over the water, her face was expressionless. 
 Her complexion was soft and smooth, very fair, but it 
 possessed no decided color, although not pale. 
 
 " You must have had a trying night, Miss Gilder- 
 sleeve," ventured Maurice. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," replied the lady, turning her gaze 
 toward him, rather timidly, as he thought, for the self- 
 contained woman he had imagined her. "" It was a 
 fearful night, such as I hope never to experience again. 
 It was all the worse for mother, as her health is very 
 wretched. The doctors thought that a sea trip would 
 benefit her ; but I am afraid the storm has done 
 her a great deal of harm." 
 
 The girl's voice was peculiarly sweet, so sweet that 
 Maurice was induced to look again into the pair of 
 deep-blue eyes that had now turned gratefully towards 
 his own. Then for the first time he noticed a faint 
 tinge of sadness upon her features. " Surely I am mis- 
 2
 
 26 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 taken," he queried ; " there must be something beneath 
 that hauteur." But recollecting himself, he said : 
 
 " Let us hope not. With this wind we will reach 
 the city in an hour, and there your mother can receive 
 the attention she needs. I trust that your experiences 
 have not overcome you also ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," she replied, with a bright cheery smile 
 that lit up her whole face. " I am strong, and not 
 timid, I hope. But of course, until you came, I felt 
 very anx " 
 
 Here a sudden gust of wind interrupted the speaker, 
 and Maurice's attention was momentarily diverted. 
 When he looked again, she was endeavoring to secure 
 a mass of soft yellow hair that had become loosened, 
 and with which the wind was wantonly playing. At 
 last she controlled it ; and with the faintest bit of 
 color mounting her cheek, she apologetically re 
 marked : 
 
 " A shipwrecked woman hasn't the most favorable 
 opportunities for her toilet." 
 
 Her voice was so sweet, her smile so amiable, and 
 there was such a frank and innocent expression in her 
 large eyes, that Maurice thought her exquisitely lovely 
 as she sat there with that wealth of hair streaming 
 around her shoulders. 
 
 By this time the bar had been safely crossed, and, 
 bowled along by a stiff east wind, the yacht was rapidly 
 running up the harbor. Maurice pointed out a num 
 ber of noted points to his passengers ; but on nearing 
 the city, rain began to fall, effectually stopping any 
 conversation. As the boat was approaching the city 
 front, Maurice addressed Mr. Gildersleeve.
 
 7 HE FISHERMEN'S LUCK. 27 
 
 " I suppose, sir, that you desire to go to some 
 hotel ? " 
 
 " Certainly. Will we be able to go up at once, do 
 you think ?" 
 
 " Yes ; we will land you at the steamer's pier, and 
 if no carriages are present, I will send a man for 
 one." 
 
 " Thank you, my good friend. I am sure we are 
 deeply indebted to you, and can never forget your 
 kindness of this morning." 
 
 " It really does not amount to anything, sir," but 
 instinctively he turned towards Miss Gildersleeve. 
 
 " And I feel very grateful to you and your friend," 
 murmured she. 
 
 "That is more reward than our services deserve," 
 answered Maurice ; at which she seemed a trifle con 
 fused, and both looked away. 
 
 In a few minutes more, the yacht ran alongside the 
 pier, and the passengers were landed. A carriage was 
 soon procured, and, after some hand-shaking, they 
 separated, the strangers to seek the hotel, and the 
 young men their homes. 
 
 Leaving the care of the boat to the negroes, the two 
 friends walked up the wharf, answering the questions 
 asked them by the usual crowd of loungers concerning 
 the stranded steamer. As soon as they were alone, 
 Gravoir glanced at his companion. 
 
 " Well, Maurice," said he, " I guess our friends are 
 anxious about us. Quite an unusual turn our fishing 
 excursion had, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes, quite so," was the rather abstracted reply, 
 followed after a little interval of silence by the ener 
 getic remark : " Confound these old duds ! I wish we
 
 28 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 hadn't had them on ! Those people must have thought 
 us an outlandish set." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ; we never dress up to go fishing, 
 and we always take the back streets going home." 
 
 Then there was a long silence, during which they 
 traversed several blocks, when Gravoir again ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " I declare, Maurice, after such excitement you are 
 exasperatingly quiet. And to think of rescuing such 
 a beautiful woman from the jaws of death ! Are you 
 tired, old fellow ? " 
 
 " Not in the least. Yes, she is a lovely girl. You 
 must meet me this evening and we will call on them at 
 the Carrollton Hotel. We can at least send up our 
 cards. It's only proper, you know." 
 
 " Why, of course it is. Good-bye, here's my cor 
 ner," and each went his way, to assure his friends 
 of his safety. 
 
 " They must be gentlemen," said Miss Gildersleeve, 
 rather warmly. 
 
 Some hours had elapsed since the arrival of the 
 strangers at the hotel ; and having been made comfort 
 able in commodious apartments, the father and daugh 
 ter had been discussing the events of the past day. 
 
 " Yes, I am sure they are gentlemen," continued 
 the young lady. " Didn't they say they had been out 
 fishing ? That is doubtless why they had on such 
 rough clothes." 
 
 " They certainly seem well-bred men," returned her 
 father. " But I doubt very much," he added, smiling,
 
 THE FISHERMEN'S LUCK. 29 
 
 " if they belong to the boasted aristocracy. Amateurs 
 would hardly be such expert boatmen." 
 
 " How courteously they bowed acknowledgement of 
 our thanks ! Can't you remember their names, father ?" 
 
 " I have quite forgotten them ; but I will certainly 
 hunt the young men up to-morrow."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED. 
 
 Sunday morning of the Gildersleeves' arrival 
 J. proved dismal indeed, the rain falling with a 
 steady and monotonous pit-pat that certainly was not 
 enlivening. The bad weather, however, was of little 
 consequence to them ; for after the late excitement of 
 danger and sudden safety, a day of rest and tranquillity 
 was almost a necessity. Mrs. Gildersleeve's condition 
 imperatively demanded a period of absolute quiet ; the 
 strain upon her had been severe, and the physician, 
 summoned soon after their arrival at the hotel, had 
 prescribed a bed and a darkened room. 
 
 The afternoon was now well advanced, and Mr. 
 Gildersleeve and his daughter were sitting in one of 
 their rooms. He occupied a comfortable chair near a 
 window, and seemed buried in his thoughts ; while she 
 was busy with her pen and ink at a centre-table. 
 
 " To whom are you writing, Hortense ? " he asked 
 at last, after noticing that she was rapidly filling up 
 numerous sheets of paper. 
 
 " To Ernest, father," she replied, looking up. 
 " Have you any messages ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; I was merely curious. I shall write to 
 him myself soon. One would really think you two 
 were lovers, you are so devoted to each other." 
 
 The girl made no answer ; she only smiled pleas- 
 
 (30)
 
 A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED. 31 
 
 antly, as though her father's expression was not dis 
 tasteful to her, and resumed her writing. 
 
 At first view, Mr. Gildersleeve was hardly an attract 
 ive man, but his features, if irregular, were strongly 
 marked and expressed those traits of character which 
 always command respect and secure confidence. He 
 was perhaps some years beyond the meridian of life, 
 but his spare and sinewy frame still possessed much 
 of the vigor and elasticity of youth. His whole ap 
 pearance indicated the shrewd man of business, whose 
 days had been successfully employed, and who had 
 now reached a ripe maturity of years. The clear gaze 
 of his gray eye immediately arrested attention ; it dis 
 closed the careful calculator, and the large mouth, 
 with its firmly-set thin lips, told unmistakably that 
 there was no excess of passion in the man's nature. 
 His face was clean-shaven, excepting the small side- 
 whiskers which possibly contributed to the rather aus 
 tere cast of his countenance. His dress was simple, 
 but almost severe in its scrupulous neatness, and re 
 vealed the preciseness of his personal habits. 
 
 Coming of a Puritan family, he possessed all the 
 stiffness of character and adherence to principle which 
 have ever distinguished that resolute class of people. 
 Sentiment had but a small place in his unimpassioned 
 nature. True, he was devotedly fond of his wife, and 
 of the daughter who was his only living child, and he 
 was immensely proud of the latter's beauty and accom 
 plishments ; but his love for them owed much of its 
 strength to long-continued habit, and certainly as 
 sumed in its open, manifestation more the form of duty 
 than of impulsive affection. Duty, indeed, was the con 
 trolling motive of his every action, and, together with 
 C
 
 32 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 his great business sagacity, had so far guided him 
 safely through the difficulties of life. He was a very 
 just man ; his compassion was not easily aroused, but 
 when moral obligations demanded the relief of suffer 
 ing humanity, his exertions were prompt and energetic, 
 nor were they ever relaxed until the result was attained. 
 Thoroughly imbued with the rigorous doctrines of the 
 Presbyterian church, of which he was an active mem 
 ber, and deeply impressed with the necessity, in these 
 irreligious days, of living up to its teachings, his whole 
 life was an exemplar of unostentatious faith in God 
 and fair dealings with men. Intensely practical, he 
 was also a well educated man, and thoroughly alive to 
 the events of the day. 
 
 He had been a successful manufacturer, in one of 
 the many manufacturing towns of Massachusetts, and 
 had acquired great wealth. He still owned extensive 
 milling interests, but for some years back he had retired 
 from their active conduct. He had long thought, now 
 that slavery was abolished, that the South afforded a 
 most inviting field for enterprise, particularly for the 
 manufacture of cotton goods. He believed that the 
 raw material could be worked much more cheaply 
 alongside the cotton field, than by a system which 
 involved the expensive middle-man and bulky trans 
 portation. The longer he dwelt on the subject, the 
 more practicable did it seem ; and the reports given 
 of the great prosperity of the few factories already 
 established in the South were very encouraging. 
 
 There was, however, one grave objection to com 
 mitting himself to any such scheme. He was a Repub 
 lican, and had been an ardent Abolitionist. The many 
 reports appearing in the great Republican newspapers,
 
 A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED. 33 
 
 of the ungenerous treatment experienced by Northern 
 men who took up residences in the South, made him 
 pause. The comfort and happiness of his wife and 
 daughter were to him matters of anxious solicitude. 
 He would abandon any project, however tempting it 
 might be, should it conflict with their welfare. If 
 these reports were true, there could be no happiness 
 for him or his in such a land. Socially, he was not 
 much concerned about his wife, as her life was that of 
 an invalid ; but it would be unjust to Hortense, now 
 on the very threshold of womanhood, to remove her 
 from all past associations, from the friends of her 
 youth, only to place her among a people so intolerant, 
 so blinded by sectional hate, that they would ostracize 
 the daughter on account of the political affiliations of 
 the father. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve conscientiously believed in the truth 
 fulness of the reports which reached him of the condition 
 of the South. The journals which published these reports 
 stood high in the estimation of the Northern public ; 
 moreover, they tallied with his conception of the 
 Southern character. He had, it is true, met very few 
 Southern men, even before the war. His knowledge of 
 them was obtained from others. He had always looked 
 upon the Southerner as a man of extreme arrogance 
 and self-conceit, who prided himself upon his ancestry 
 and considered his race far superior to his Northern 
 brethren. In this view, Mr. Gildersleeve was correct, 
 when it applied to the predominant class of ante-bel 
 lum society. He, like many others, forgot that the war 
 had greatly limited the influence of that class, and that 
 a New South, a new generation, was springing up,
 
 34 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 whose ideas and feelings were very different from the 
 Old. 
 
 The political troubles of the South subsequent to 
 the war increased his prejudices. The tales of cruelty 
 and bloodshed, in which Kuklux and White Leagues 
 figured largely, excited within him a stern desire to 
 know that severe punishment had been inflicted upon 
 those men whose hands were dyed so deeply in crime. 
 He was too sensible to believe that this depravity was 
 universal at the South, but he naturally thought that 
 the prevailing sentiment encouraged these outrages. 
 When the war closed, he expected the surrender of the 
 Confederate armies to end the whole matter ; but when, 
 instead, there came reports of collisions between the 
 two races, the negro being generally the sufferer, his 
 sense of justice cried out for the enforcement of the 
 laws of his country. The negro was now an Ameri 
 can citizen, entitled to all the rights, privileges, and pro 
 tection which that citizenship confers ; and that the 
 Southerner should still contest those rights by such 
 despicable methods, was clear proof of his intolerance 
 and -his rebellious spirit. With his great respect for 
 law, and his natural love of justice, Mr. Gildersleeve 
 could see nothing to excuse such criminal conduct. He 
 could not appreciate the difficulty of eradicating a 
 prejudice and distinction created by slavery and the 
 difference in color. He knew no prejudices, no race 
 distinctions, and he could not brook them in others. 
 Again did he forget that the Old South died hard, and 
 that the New was yet scarcely born. 
 
 For the leaders of the Republican party in the 
 South, he had much sympathy. They were martyrs, in 
 that they risked their lives in the cause of liberty.
 
 A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED. 35 
 
 They had left comfortable homes, they had broken the 
 ties of friendship and love, that they might devote 
 themselves to the work of educating and protecting 
 the negroes from oppression. That here and there an 
 unscrupulous man might be found, he did not doubt ; 
 but in general, he held the reports circulated of their 
 corruption and depravity to be false, and concocted by 
 their political enemies to cover up the enormity of their 
 own offenses against law and justice. 
 
 Holding these views, it is not surprising that he hes 
 itated long before taking so important a step as to move 
 South with his family. If they were correct, then 
 it would indeed be a fool's errand. But the scheme 
 was always uppermost in his mind ; there were so 
 many reasons which concurred in making such a 
 change advisable, that he could not dismiss it entirely 
 from his thoughts. What urged him on to investigate 
 the matter more thoroughly and decisively, was the dis 
 covery of the precarious condition of his wife's health. 
 Although she made light of her ailment, and endeav 
 ored as much as possible to conceal from him her in 
 creasing cough, it soon became evident that she was 
 threatened with some chronic affection of the lungs. 
 The family physician was consulted, and he pronounced 
 a change to a warmer climate absolutely necessary. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve then obtained the views of friends 
 who had an extensive acquaintance in the South, con 
 cerning the best locality. Now that it was necessary, 
 for the sake of his wife, to leave the old home, he con 
 cluded that the selection of his future residence must 
 depend not only upon the facilities the place offered 
 for carrying out his projects, but upon its salubrity as 
 well. Finally, he decided to go to Carrollton, from
 
 36 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 which point he could better survey the field. He pro 
 cured letters of introduction to several prominent men 
 of that city ; and the fall of the year approaching rap 
 idly, his arrangements were soon made for an early 
 departure, and in the month of September the family 
 left New York on board the steamship " Gate City," 
 arriving off Carrolton harbor at night, to be almost 
 shipwrecked. 
 
 The father and daughter had been sitting in their 
 parlor some time, she busily writing and he deep in his 
 thoughts, when suddenly there was a tap at the door, 
 and a negro waiter entered, bearing two cards on a 
 salver. Mr. Gildersleeve read the names of Maurice 
 Graham and Edward P. Gravoir. 
 
 " Is it possible," asked he, " that these are the gen 
 tlemen who brought us up to the city ? Do you know ?" 
 turning to the man. 
 
 " I reckons dey is, sah," replied the latter, "fur I 
 heard dem talkin' ter some genelmans 'bout de storm 
 las' night." 
 
 " Show them up at once." 
 
 The waiter retired, and in a few minutes Maurice 
 and Ned entered the room. 
 
 Very different now was their attire from that of the 
 previous evening, plain and neat, it was in keeping 
 with that careful attention to appearance which is ever 
 distinctive of cultivated people. 
 
 " This is indeed very kind of you, gentlemen," 
 exclaimed Mr. Gildersleeve, as he cordially welcomed 
 them. " It affords me much pleasure to meet you 
 again." 
 
 " We feared that the excitement of the storm might
 
 A SOCIAL DUTY PERFORMED. 37 
 
 have had some unpleasant effect upon the ladies, so 
 we called to assure ourselves to the contrary," returned 
 Maurice. 
 
 " Only temporary, except upon my wife, who is at 
 best an invalid. But the physician thinks she will be 
 better in a day or two." 
 
 Then they sat down, and the conversation became 
 general. Miss Gildersleeve was anxious to hear about 
 the steamer. 
 
 " We had our trunks sent up an hour or two ago," 
 said she ; " but what has become of the poor 'Gate 
 City?' " 
 
 " Breaking up by this time, I suppose," answered 
 Maurice. " The tugs failed to pull her off into deep 
 water. I understood that the agents were discharging 
 the cargo all the morning." 
 
 It was not long before much of the natural reserve 
 between the strangers and their newly-found Southern 
 friends was removed, and their late association seemed 
 likely to pave the way to a more intimate acquaint 
 ance. Being so different in many respects, they nat 
 urally regarded each other curiously, and noted differ 
 ences of manner aad speech that appeared very 
 novel. But the conversation proceeded pleasantly, 
 and the regret was mutual when the young men rose 
 to end their short visit. 
 
 As they were about to take their leave, Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve turned to the centre-table, and taking up their 
 cards, he again looked at them closely. 
 
 " Is it possible," asked he, " that you, gentlemen, 
 are in any way related to Colonel George Graham or 
 to Mr. Francis Gravoir ?" 
 
 " Why, the latter is my eldest brother, and Colonel
 
 38 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Graham is my friend's father," answered Gravoir, in 
 some surprise. 
 
 " Really, this is a pleasure, a delightful coinci 
 dence 1 " exclaimed Mr. Gildersleeve. " I have letters 
 of introduction to both of those gentlemen." 
 
 " I can assure you of a cordial reception from my 
 father," answered Maurice, no less surprised and 
 pleased. " He has already heard of you in connection 
 with our fishing frolic. And I know that my sister 
 will be delighted to cultivate your acquaintance," he 
 added, turning to Hortense. 
 
 " Thank you," said she, cordially ; " it is pleasant 
 to feel that we shall have some other claim upon you 
 than our obligations." 
 
 Then the young men took their leave, and father 
 and daughter were again alone in their parlor.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME " F. F. V." 
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE left the hotel after break 
 fast the next morning, to present his letters of 
 introduction. He experienced no difficulty in finding 
 the office of Messrs. George Graham & Co., and upon 
 inquiring for Colonel Graham, he was shown into a 
 neatly - furnished private-room, where a middle - aged 
 gentleman was seated at a desk, engaged with the 
 morning mail. 
 
 "Is this Colonel Graham?" asked Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve. 
 
 "Yes, sir. Take a seat. Whom have I the pleas 
 ure of seeing ? " 
 
 " My name is John Gildersleeve, and I bring a 
 letter of introduction from Mr. Henry Winslow, of 
 Boston," at the same time presenting his letter. 
 
 "Oh! I am very glad to know you, sir. My son 
 told me how he met you Saturday, under rather 
 adverse circumstances." 
 
 " Yes, we are deeply indebted " 
 
 " Don't mention it ! Those young fellows like 
 nothing better than some adventure of the kind. 
 Excuse me, please, while I read this letter." 
 
 The Graham family had been residents of Carroll- 
 ton for a number of generations. Originally they 
 were extremely poor, holding no social position among 
 
 (39)
 
 40 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the very exclusive people of that city. But the father 
 of Colonel Graham had proved himself a man of 
 extraordinary business capacity, and long before the 
 civil war he had become very rich in the cotton trade. 
 These business qualities, his fortune, and a matri 
 monial alliance with an old family, gave the elder Gra 
 ham a recognized position in a community where it 
 was the exception during the slavery era for a man to 
 rise above the grade in which he was born. His son 
 George had been carefully educated ; and succeeding 
 to the business and fortune at his father's death, he 
 had maintained and extended the influence he inher 
 ited. But although his position was undisputed, there 
 was a certain difference, tacitly understood by all par 
 ties, between his family and the old aristocracy. They 
 mingled together, united in the same social pleasures, 
 and were actuated by common motives. But although 
 they dined and wined each other freely, the original 
 condition of the Graham family was never forgotten 
 by the haughty aristocrats. The Grahams had, of 
 themselves, no Revolutionary blood in their veins; 
 they were nobodies when the early settlers were clear 
 ing these wild lands and fighting Indians ; and there 
 was always an unexpressed feeling that the few nou- 
 veaux-riches, like the Grahams, who had entered the 
 higher ranks of society, were permitted to remain because 
 of their personal qualities. 
 
 But although Colonel Graham was not a thorough 
 bred aristocrat, and did not belong to the old planter 
 set, his education and training had combined to give 
 him in many respects the same political opinions that 
 were held by the former ruling classes of the South. 
 While he had greatly doubted the policy of secession,
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME U F. F. V." 41 
 
 he always believed in the justice of the Southern 
 cause ; and he had stoutly maintained that the coercion 
 of the Southern States into the Union, and the subse 
 quent emancipation of the slaves, were acts of unjus 
 tifiable usurpation, and a violation of constitutional 
 limitations. He entered the Confederate army, partic 
 ipated in the first battle of Manassas, and was present 
 at the surrender of Appomattox. Being a man of 
 good common-sense, he took the oath of allegiance 
 without any mental reservation, and accepted the fate 
 of war as the final settlement of a most momentous 
 question. He knew that the results of the struggle 
 could never be reversed ; and he believed, in a matter 
 of fact way, that the sooner the South abandoned her 
 vain aspirations of the past, the sooner would her peo 
 ple make the best of a bad bargain and retrieve what 
 they had lost. After taking the oath of allegiance he 
 was heard to say : 
 
 " Secession is a dead issue dead forever. I firmly 
 believed, and still believe, that upon a fair construction 
 of the Constitution of the United States, our States 
 had a lawful right to secede, and that any coercion 
 tending to prevent the exercise of that right was unjust 
 and revolutionary ; yet henceforth I am a citizen of the 
 United States, and will faithfully observe my oath of 
 allegiance." 
 
 On returning home he found that his once princely 
 fortune had dwindled to an almost insignificant amount, 
 and that what remained, consisting chiefly of depreci 
 ated real estate, was barely enough to start him in bus- 
 iress again. But, unlike many of his bluer blooded 
 associates, who quietly sank under their misfortunes, 
 the necessity for exertion seemed to develop in him
 
 42 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the qualities that had distinguished his father ; and by 
 dint of hard work, economy, and financial skill, he had 
 already partially recovered his wealth, and by this time 
 his prominence in commercial circles was completely 
 regained. Socially, as one of the few men who had 
 survived the war, his position was stronger than ever. 
 
 When Colonel Graham finished reading the letter, 
 he said, with a smile of welcome : 
 
 " It gives me great pleasure, Mr. Gildersleeve, to 
 meet any friend of Harry Winslow. He and I have 
 been friends for years. We were chums at Yale, and 
 our friendship is still maintained by an occasional cor 
 respondence, even though we differed in politics, and 
 fought against each other." 
 
 "Yes," answered the Northerner, "Winslow spoke 
 of you as an old friend, and I was very glad to pre 
 sent his letter." 
 
 "I infer," continued Colonel Graham, "from what 
 he says, that you propose to locate among us and estab 
 lish a factory for cotton goods." 
 
 " Well, yes; that is, I want to investigate the matter; 
 but the permanency of my stay will depend on circum 
 stances." 
 
 " Whether or not the enterprise can be made profit 
 able ? " ventured Colonel Graham. 
 
 " Yes, on that,and the improvement in the health' of 
 my wife, who is an invalid. Besides," looking hesita 
 tingly at his host, " there will be social and political 
 conditions to consider." 
 
 " In what way ? " asked Colonel Graham, as though 
 he had not fully understood. 
 
 "Oh, you know I am a Northern man." 
 
 " Well ? "
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME "F. F. V." 43 
 
 "And a Republican in politics." This was uttered 
 in that tone of quiet emphasis that men of decision 
 naturally assume when they approach a subject that is 
 unpleasant but unavoidable. 
 
 Colonel Graham could not refrain from laughing. 
 " I see what your trouble is," he exclaimed. " Like 
 many other Northern people, you think that the enmi 
 ties of the war are still burning in our -hearts. Well, 
 we'll soon clear away that illusion over my dinner 
 table." 
 
 " But you must bear in mind," returned Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve, " that my political sentiments and affiliations are 
 entirely different from those of your people. I am a 
 Republican, have always been a steadfast opponent of 
 slavery, and because I have come South I can not 
 change my republicanism into democracy." 
 
 " My dear sir," exclaimed Colonel Graham, "we do 
 not care a fig for your politics ! That narrow, intole 
 rant spirit which prevailed immediately before and 
 after the war, exists now only to a limited extent, at 
 least in the cities, and is growing less every day. We 
 all vote the Democratic ticket, it is true, and bitterly 
 oppose the Republican party and its policy toward the 
 South, because that party does not accord us the just 
 and generous treatment which a humane conqueror is 
 bound by the law of equity and honor to bestow on its 
 fallen foe. You Northerners err in supposing that these 
 feelings extend to individuals. No one here will ever 
 question your politics, and if you come to develop our 
 resources, our people will welcome you all the more 
 gladly. But," added Colonel Graham, with a peculiar 
 smile, " before you have been here a year, you will be 
 as firm a Democrat as I am. And that change will
 
 44 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 not be the result of any bulldozing or intimidation ; 
 you will be forced by your own sense of justice and the 
 instincts of humanity, to support the Democratic ticket, 
 at least in local affairs." 
 
 Gildersleeve only smiled in answer. That he, who 
 from childhood had been taught faith in the Republi 
 can party, who had so long believed that the party and 
 its predecessors were the exponents of liberty, progress, 
 and of everything that conduces to make this country 
 the land of freedom to all who seek its shores ; that he 
 would ever renounce the political opinions of his whole 
 life, was a statement too ridiculous for consideration. 
 So, with native politeness, he only smiled incredu 
 lously, which was instantly perceived by Colonel 
 Graham, who continued in explanation : 
 
 " What I have said seems very absurd, no doubt ; 
 but, as I understand from Mr. Winslow's letter, you 
 have never before been in the South, and therefore 
 have never seen for yourself the actual condition of 
 affairs. Next year, at the general election, the Demo 
 crats propose to recover control of the State, if possi 
 ble ; and I venture to assert that if you are here then 
 you will vote with me for the Democratic candidate for 
 governor, freely and of your own volition, driven to 
 the step by the strongest impulses of your nature." 
 
 "Well, well, we shall see." Gildersleeve smiled 
 again, and inwardly hoped that this Southerner, who 
 seemed so genial in other respects, was not going to 
 force his politics upon him already. 
 
 " And now about the factory," said Colonel Graham. 
 " I see that Winslow refers to me as one who can in 
 form you about our natural advantages. While I am not 
 prepared to speak decisively on the subject now, yet I
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME "F. F. V." 45 
 
 believe such a scheme as yours would be profitable, 
 perhaps even more so than at the North. As soon as 
 you have settled down, I will gladly place myself at 
 your service, and I hope you will make my office your 
 headquarters. We can easily find you desk-room." 
 
 " Thanks ; I will accept with pleasure. By the way, 
 can you tell me anything about a small town called 
 Belleville ? Winslow mentioned it as a desirable place 
 of residence in the present condition of my wife's 
 health." 
 
 " Yes, it is a quiet little country place, about fifteen 
 miles from the city, with excellent railroad facilities. 
 It is a very popular resort for invalids from Carrollton. 
 Your physician can advise you on the subject." 
 
 Some inquiries concerning Mrs. Gildersleeve's 
 health naturally followed, and then the conversation 
 drifted around to the shipwreck of the previous day. 
 Several merchants entered the office, to whom Mr. 
 Gildersleeve was introduced. They greeted him 
 warmly, and expressed great pleasure when they heard 
 of the cotton-factory scheme. 
 
 At last, when Mr. Gildersleeve was leaving, he 
 asked: "You know Francis Gravoir, a lawyer? I 
 have also a letter for him from Winslow. Can you di 
 rect me to his office ? " 
 
 11 Certainly ; I will take you there, ' replied Graham, 
 and, despite the Northerner's protests, the two were 
 soon on the streets. 
 
 They walked along leisurely, chatting about the 
 city, Colonel Graham pointing out various objects of 
 interest. Suddenly the latter stopped in front of an 
 open lot whereon some massive pillars alone remained 
 to tell of the building that once graced the spot.
 
 40 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Here stood the hall, the remains of which 5-011 see, 
 where assembled that celebrated convention which 
 passed the ordinance of secession, withdrawing this 
 State from the Union, and striking the first blow at the 
 Federal government. The men who composed that 
 convention are almost all dead, and the fiery scourge 
 has swept the building from the face of the earth, leav 
 ing only these unsightly ruins to show where it once 
 stood." 
 
 Gildersleeve gazed for a few moments in silence, as 
 if impressed by the sight ; then, turning to his com 
 panion, he continued in the same strain : 
 
 " It is indeed a sad remembrance of the past and 
 of much that was once bitter. But may we not learn 
 that the cause which was conceived in this hall, and 
 given birth at Montgomery, was not destined to live 
 and flourish ? that as the building has been removed 
 by the flames, and will probably be replaced by a finer 
 structure, so the cause, dear as it might have been to 
 its supporters, has been lost only to be succeeded by a 
 more substantial and enduring government ! " 
 
 "We will hope so, at least," returned Colonel Gra 
 ham, briefly. 
 
 A walk of a few minutes more brought them to their 
 destination, and Mr. Gildersleeve was introduced to 
 Francis Gravoir, and to his father, General Pierre Gra- 
 voir. The latter was a tall, pompous old gentleman, 
 who wore, in place of the usual modern collar, the high 
 stiff stock of a now almost forgotten fashion, and who, 
 in reply to the introduction, extended his hand, say 
 ing : " Mr. Gildersleeve, I am honored, sir ! " 
 
 A very pleasant conversation followed, in which the 
 prospects of the factory scheme were discussed.
 
 MR. G1LDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME "F. F. V." 47 
 
 The Gravoirs were of an old Huguenot family that 
 settled in Carrollton many years before the Revolution. 
 Driven from France by religious persecution, they 
 sought the New World, to enjoy their convictions in 
 peace. At that time Carrollton was a small and desti 
 tute colony; and, like the rest of its people, the Gra 
 voirs were poor and obliged to wrest from their wild 
 surroundings the necessaries of life. But men who 
 would, for religion's sake, abandon their homes in a 
 civilized country, and risk the uncertainties of life in 
 an unknown land, must possess enough force of char 
 acter to overcome other obstacles. Such men do not 
 yield quietly to trials and deprivations. Theirs is a 
 patient, enduring, ever active nature, which steadily 
 forces its way through forest and thicket, and across 
 foaming currents, never yielding and only resting 
 when its labors have secured safety and a home. 
 
 Such were the original members of the Gravoir 
 family; and after some years of hardship, their efforts 
 had rendered them comfortable. They engaged in 
 trade with the Indians, buying of them the native 
 products, which were sold in Europe at an immense 
 profit, and soon they controlled the largest business in 
 the colony. The family obtained a grant of land 
 along the coast, and before the original members of 
 the American branch had died, they were possessed of 
 considerable wealth. Succeeding generations settled 
 down on their plantations, and owning numerous 
 slaves, they led the lives of Southern planters, veritable 
 princes, though on a petty scale. The family grew 
 steadily in importance, and its members played a most 
 distinguished part in the war of the Revolution, and 
 for many years later their position and influence in 
 
 b
 
 48 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the Carrollton community had been inferior to none. 
 At the time of our story, there were three generations 
 living: General Gravoir; his sons, of whom Francis 
 was the eldest; and the latter's children. 
 
 The old General was a genuine Southern planter, 
 in his manners, his ideas, and his education. Although 
 extremely polished and courteous, his bearing was 
 haughty, and revealed a thorough appreciation of his 
 own importance, which not even the loss of wealth had 
 diminished. Accustomed from early life to have his 
 every command obeyed, his imperious nature and hot 
 temper often concealed his really good mind, and 
 made him appear as a provincial bigot. Frequently, 
 to his own dismay, his impetuosity would treacherously 
 leave him in positions which his sober moments con 
 demned as unreasonable. He was educated and 
 intelligent, yet on subjects affecting his peculiar inte 
 rests, such as slavery and the other institutions and 
 ideas of his section, he was deeply imbued with the 
 prejudices and intolerance of the old Southerner. He 
 conscientiously upheld the divine appointment of 
 slavery, and, under humane limitations, he believed it 
 just and proper that the inferior should serve the 
 superior race as its slaves. He warmly supported the 
 doctrine of State sovereignty, and obstinately refused 
 to admit that the question was even susceptible of 
 doubt. Among the first to raise his voice in support 
 of secession, he was sent as a delegate to the conven 
 tion called to consider the situation; and exhibiting 
 there all the vehemence and animation of his char 
 acter, he insisted in the most impassioned oratory 
 upon the immediate passage of the famous ordinance. 
 He regarded any opposition as unreasonable and
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MEETS SOME F. F. V." 49 
 
 unpatriotic. When the war ended, he found himself 
 a poor man, and almost dependent on his sons for 
 subsistence. 
 
 Francis Gravoir inherited many of his father's 
 qualities, but in him they were softened by a truer ex 
 perience of the world as it is to-day. He was less 
 vehement, less illiberal, less bitter against the North. 
 When the war ended, he too was poor; but he was still 
 young, had an honorable profession, and knew that he 
 could depend on enough practice for a support, facts 
 which went a long way to lessen the sting of poverty 
 and to bring about forgetfulness of its cause. As the 
 reverses of war had not left him so completely help 
 less as they did his father, it was natural that he should 
 have less of that irreconcilable antipathy to the new 
 order of things; and after once more getting a start in 
 life, he accepted his changed condition with a good 
 grace. He had now built up an excellent practice, 
 and he possessed that which a true lawyer covets most, 
 the confidence of the community. He was known to 
 be conscientious. In politics he was conservative. 
 
 When John Gildersleeve returned to the hotel, he 
 was weir pleased with the day's experience. He had, 
 of course, expected polite treatment; but the warmth 
 of his welcome, the invitations pressed upon him by 
 these Southerners, and their hearty approval of his 
 projects, were rather a surprise. His fear now was that 
 upon a more extended acquaintance, there would be a 
 clash of opinions, and a lack of congeniality on social 
 and political issues that would be fatal to friendship. 
 And these fears he did not fail to express to his wife 
 when narrating to her the incidents of the day.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 
 
 A WEEK or more had passed since the arrival of 
 the Northerners in Carrollton. Mrs. Gilder- 
 sleeve continued very feeble, and her physician advised 
 that she should be removed at an early date to Belle 
 ville. The air of Carrollton did not tend to lessen her 
 troublesome cough; being under the immediate influ 
 ence of the ocean, it possesses that peculiar salty flavor 
 common to seaside localities, and, with the excess of 
 moisture which it contains, is liable to prove extremely 
 irritating to a weak lung. So, after some deliberation 
 as to whether he should remain in the state or go on to 
 Florida, Mr. Gildersleeve determined to follow the 
 physician's advice for a time at least, and then, if his 
 wife did not improve in Belleville, he would travel 
 farther south. He was, in fact, rather anxious to pur 
 sue the former course, because, living so near to Car 
 rollton, he could enjoy all the commercial facilities 
 which that city might offer for the prosecution of his 
 business plans. 
 
 The small town of Belleville lies on a sandy soil, 
 somewhat elevated above the surrounding swampy 
 regions, and comprises a great variety of cottages 
 placed irregularly in a thick pine forest. The houses 
 are almost all of wood, without even the least preten 
 sion to architectural beauty; and excepting the broad 
 
 (60)
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 51 
 
 piazzas and halls, so common to Southern dwellings, 
 there is scarcely any uniformity in their structure. 
 Each man has evidently gratified his own taste, and 
 sought comfort after his own notions. Certainly, no 
 one could justly claim that there is any beauty about 
 the village. The views in every direction are monoto 
 nous in the extreme. One glimpse of the interminable 
 pines and the glistening white sand shows the observer 
 how well the irony of fate may sometimes be illus 
 trated in the selection of a name. Possibly its early 
 settlers, like the father of Tristam Shandy, believed in 
 the influence of names, and designed to secure a 
 glorious future for the home of their progeny. If so, 
 present appearances certainly stamped the attempt a 
 dismal failure. How the incubus of such a misnomer 
 had ever fallen on the unobtrusive corporation, is a 
 profound mystery to the oldest inhabitant. 
 
 But if the place lacks beauty even if the houses 
 are old, mostly shabby, and dreadfully in need of fresh 
 paint, its pure and invigorating atmosphere seems to 
 give a new life to the invalids who seek its genial influ 
 ence. Though the malarial poison is prolific in the 
 swamps not many miles away, yet in this pine barren 
 the poor sufferer finds that comfort which all the doc 
 tors' skill and drugs can not afford. The town had been 
 first settled by the surrounding planters because of the 
 healthiness of the locality. During some hot months 
 it is highly dangerous for a white man to remain after 
 sunset on a plantation ; only the pine barrens are safe. 
 Thus Belleville gradually grew up into a straggling 
 unostentatious village, like a collection of comfortable 
 farm-houses, which supplied convenient summer resi 
 dences for the neighboring planters.
 
 52 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 In obedience to the physician's advice, Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve early explained his need to a real estate agent. 
 Unfortunately, but few houses had been built in Belle 
 ville since the war, when a number were destroyed. 
 The reputation of the place as a health-giving resort, 
 while justly grounded, was quite local to the sea-board 
 of the State, and consequently there had been no rush 
 of travel to stimulate its growth. Mr. Gildersleeve found 
 it very difficult to procure a suitable residence. There 
 were only three houses that could be obtained, of which 
 two were not at all desirable. The third was large, and 
 prior to the war had been considered the most elegant 
 structure in the town. Some years back, the owner 
 had had it repaired ; but very strangely, as it seemed 
 to the town, after occupying the house for a few nights 
 with his family, he had hastily vacated the premises. 
 When questioned concerning his sudden removal, he 
 merely answered, with a shrug of his shoulder, that his 
 wife did not fancy the dwelling ; and soon after it was 
 advertised for rent. As the residence was apparently 
 quite desirable, a tenant was easily found. Strange to 
 say, however, a similar result ensued. Only two weeks 
 had elapsed when the people moved out bag and baggage. 
 The tenant, not owning the house, had no particular 
 inducement to remain quiet, and he immediately 
 announced that on no account would his family stay in 
 that house another night ; not that he was foolish 
 enough to believe in ghosts and that sort of stuff ; 
 bless your soul, sir, not a bit of it ; but then there was 
 certainly something wrong about this house that he 
 could not explain. The place immediately became 
 marked ; and henceforth Belleville had what it did not 
 before possess a haunted house. The negroes of the
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 53 
 
 town talked a good deal about the matter ; their super 
 stitious imaginations soon created numerous stories, in 
 which midnight demons were the main feature, and 
 there was scarcely a negro in the village who would 
 willingly come alone down that road late at night. 
 The story to which they gave most faith was briefly 
 this : 
 
 During the war, the house was occupied by an old 
 lady of family and wealth, whose ruling passions were 
 her love for her only son and her money. This son 
 held the rank of an artillery captain in the Confeder 
 ate service, and was killed in one of the first battles. 
 Report said that the old lady barely survived the shock ; 
 but to outward appearance she only lived more to her 
 self, until finally she was seen by very few people, and 
 the most horrible tales were told about her parsimony 
 and her cruelty to her slaves. One night the village 
 doctor was hastily summoned, and next morning the 
 town was startled to hear that the old lady and a young 
 negro girl had been burnt to death. At the inquest, 
 the negroes living on the premises were the only wit 
 nesses. They stated, as was known before, that their 
 mistress was miserly to the last degree, and seemed 
 always to be possessed by a morbid fear of her servants' 
 extravagance. She would unhesitatingly resort to the 
 most severe punishment, "to cure them of wasting 
 things." According to the evidence, it appeared that 
 a negro girl had lit two candles on the fatal evening, 
 while attending to some work. Observing this, the mis 
 tress angrily exclaimed that she would stop such waste ; 
 and seizing the girl's hands, held their palms over the 
 flames. The terrified slave stood the torture until the 
 agony was unbearable, and in the struggle that ensued
 
 54 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the cotton garments of the girl and the muslins of the 
 mistress became ignited. When the other servants 
 rushed in, the two were senseless. It was the work of 
 a few minutes to extinguish the fire, but when the fam 
 ily physician arrived the old lady and her slave were 
 beyond recovery. 
 
 This was the story which the negroes whisperingly 
 told each other about the house. Report said that the 
 two would appear at night in the room where the trag 
 edy occurred, and that the shrill mocking laugh of the 
 one would re-echo through the apartments as her slave 
 shrieked for mercy. Certainly the experiences of the 
 two families who afterwards occupied the house seemed 
 to lend a color of truth to these reports ; the tenant 
 openly spoke of the dismal sounds that had appalled 
 his wife and children. At all events, the house was 
 looked upon as doomed, and for several years had 
 remained tenantless. 
 
 When the agent made his report to Mr. Gildersleeve, 
 he frankly stated to him these facts. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " answered the latter ; " is the house really 
 a good one in other respects ?" 
 
 Being assured that it was, he procured the keys, 
 and next morning went to Belleville to look at the prop 
 erty. 
 
 The dwelling was a large one, of some ten spacious 
 rooms, and located in a lot of several acres containing 
 many pine and oak trees. On the ground floor was 
 the basement, and above this were piazzas to the front 
 and rear of the house, having broad stairways to com 
 municate with the yard. An avenue of red oak bor 
 dered the pathway which led to the gate opening on 
 the road, but here and there a tree was gone, making
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 55 
 
 an unsightly gap. Around the house stood enough 
 trees to give it a shelter, which was very grateful in 
 summer. At one gable grew an immense oak that was 
 especially beautiful, twining and curving its numerous 
 branches in a really curious and fantastic fashion. 
 Around this tree had sprung up a luxuriant growth of 
 ivy, which shot its vines boldly along the limbs, 
 encroaching on the windows and even on the roof, 
 giving a rather odd appearance to that side of the 
 house. 
 
 A half hour's inspection satisfied Mr. Gildersleeve 
 that the place would suit him. The outbuildings, sta 
 ble, kitchen, were excellent, and he thought a little 
 repairing would render the house quite comfortable. 
 That afternoon he had effected a lease, and next day a 
 force of workmen went to Belleville, much to the 
 astonishment of the people, " to fix up the old house 
 for some Yankees." At the same time an order was 
 given to a house-furnishing establishment, a carriage 
 and a pair of horses bought, servants engaged, and in 
 ten days after leasing the house the family moved 
 there. Mr. Gildersleeve's healthy mind had in a 
 moment dismissed as nonsense the story told him by 
 the agent ; but he knew the timidity of women, par 
 ticularly the natural nervousness of a sick woman, and 
 so had refrained from repeating the gossip to his wife 
 or daughter. " The house is the only one to be had," 
 he thought, " and as it is a good one it would be fool 
 ish to allow such superstition to influence me. If I 
 say nothing to them, they will be perfectly happy." 
 
 The family arrived at Belleville in the afternoon, 
 and found their carriage awaiting them at the depot. 
 The drive to the house was a short one, but full of
 
 56 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 expectation to Hortense, who was anxious to have a 
 view of the town where she might live for a 
 long time ; and, in truth, it must be told that she was 
 considerably disappointed by her first impressions. 
 They left the carriage at the gate, and as Hortense 
 walked slowly up the gravelly path, she looked anx 
 iously about her to find something that was cheering. 
 But the trees were all she could see to admire. She 
 knew her father would expect some expression of opin 
 ion, and so, for want of a less commonplace remark, 
 she said : 
 
 " What a large place it is ! " 
 
 " Yes, somewhat more than we need," answered 
 Mr. Gildersleeve, who was assisting his wife to the 
 house. " I hope you will not tire of living here, Hor 
 tense." 
 
 " Oh, no ! We shall be very happy in this quiet 
 town, if mother only gets back her health. And 
 what with long drives in the woods, and country air, 
 country milk and butter and eggs, and all those things, 
 you know, mamma dear, you'll soon be strong again," 
 said the daughter, as she bent over and tenderly kissed 
 the invalid. Then for the first time Hortense noticed 
 the tree with its ivy beside the house, and she ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " What a huge tree ! I never saw one so big, 
 before ! " 
 
 " Yes, it's large enough too large, in fact. I have 
 been thinking of cutting away some of those branches ; 
 they must make the house damp." 
 
 " Then, father, I cry emphatically : ' Woodman, 
 spare that tree ! ' It is really too noble to feel the axe. 
 Now, father," she continued, with a quizzical express-
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 57 
 
 ion on her face, as her parents stopped to rest by the 
 steps, " if I were only as sentimental as you sometimes 
 want me to be, I would have a glorious time wander 
 ing among these trees and reading Tom Moore." 
 
 " I'm afraid, Hortense, that if Ernest hasn't been 
 able to arouse some sentiment in you, these trees will 
 not," he answered, dryly. 
 
 A few minutes after their arrival, when the ladies 
 had gone to their rooms, the negro man, who had been 
 engaged as coachman, approached Mr. Gildersleeve, 
 and said in a mysterious manner that he desired to 
 have a few words with him in the hall. Nodding an 
 assent, Mr. Gildersleeve followed. 
 
 " I say, boss, I'se been tole dat dis yar house is 
 hanted right smart. I hear dat dere is an ole lady what 
 burns people wid candles ! " 
 
 " Who told you that nonsense, my man ? " 
 
 " 'Tain't no nonsense, boss, 'scusin' me, sah, it's de 
 fac' truf, as de whole town will tell yer. An' I was 
 tole so agin dis mornin' by de cullud genelman wot 
 hauled de wood fur de kitchen." 
 
 " You don't believe such stuff ? " 
 
 " Not b'lieve in sperits, sah ? Lorsa'mussy ! wa'se 
 yer talkin' 'bout, sah ! Why, boss, I knows sebral 
 houses in Car'llton dat's hanted fur sartin, sartin sure ! 
 My brudder was run one night ober a mile by a spent, 
 an' I is tole dat de ole lady wot walks dis house has 
 pertic'ler spite on niggers, an' dat she lubs ter burn 
 dere han's wid candles." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve had at first felt inclined to smile, 
 but the speaker's earnestness and warmth were too sin 
 cere to be lightly dismissed. He was not prepared, 
 however, to meet such extreme credulity and supersti-
 
 58 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 tion. He was shocked, and was tempted to reason 
 with his servant. " But no," thought he, "my wife io 
 nervous, and if these negroes are allowed to talk freely 
 they'll get her excited. After all, there are other super 
 stitious beings in the world beside the negro." Then 
 he added aloud : " Now see here, Pompey, that story 
 is pure nonsense, and if any of you people repeat it to 
 my wife or daughter, you will all go. I don't want 
 them to hear it until they get accustomed to the house. 
 Do you understand me ? " 
 
 The negro retired sulkily. " I wonder what de oder 
 niggers will do," he thought. " Dese Yankees pay 
 well, dat's a fac', better'n mos' de white folks in dis yar 
 Ian' ; but Jemiminy ! sposin de ole 'ooman was fur ter 
 come fur sure ! " The darkey involuntarily cast a 
 glance along the deserted hall, as though he expected 
 her that very moment. 
 
 Dinner was over, and the several members of the 
 family had retired to their rooms, being tired, and hav 
 ing some personal affairs incident to the change to 
 engage their attention. The servants had finished 
 their work, and the house had gradually become quiet. 
 Out in the kitchen, however, a bright light burned ; 
 and inside, voices could be heard in conversation. 
 Presently there was a tap at the door, which was imme 
 diately opened : 
 
 " Good ebenin', Brudder Tomkins," said the cook's 
 voice, " an' you too, Sister Tomkins ; we'se bery 
 glad you'se come, fur we'se got a drefful misery on de 
 brain." 
 
 " Yes, sister, I knows how you all is sitivated," 
 answered the individual addressed as Tomkins. 
 " Berily, berily, de question yer has ter discuss is a
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 59 
 
 'mentous one, my sister ; yea, a 'mentous one, fur dis 
 yar place is de campin'-ground ob de ebil sperit ! " 
 
 The whole group inside shivered and were silent. 
 Perhaps they would have remained so indefinitely, had 
 not Tomkins, who was decidedly an enterprising man, 
 spied the remains of the late dinner. 
 
 " But, sister," said he, " my wife had a long walk, an' 
 I 'spec' she's sort o' hungry. Got anything ter eat ? " 
 
 " De Lord bress me, brudder ! ef I aint clean furgit ! 
 Whar's my manners gwine ? Yes, jest sit yar at de 
 table ; we had roas' beef an' chicken. I saved some 
 fur yer. I say, Pomp, move sharp an' git de brudder 
 some fresh water from de well." 
 
 Tomkins and his wife needed no second invita 
 tion ; one glance at the tempting viands, of which the 
 Gildersleeves had partaken, was enough to give activity 
 to their movements, and in a moment they were at 
 home. 
 
 Brother Tomkins was quite a character in the town 
 of Belleville, but only such as is often found among the 
 colored population of Southern communities. His 
 natural shrewdness gave him an acknowledged leader 
 ship among the blacks, and for some time he had been 
 a preacher at a small church. The women particularly 
 held him in high esteem, which he fully understood 
 and was quick to turn to a profitable account. Brother 
 Tomkins never wanted a good dinner without knowing 
 where it could be obtained ; and it is safe to say that 
 he wanted one quite often. Any one of the women of 
 his flock would willingly have sacrificed her meal for 
 the reverend brother, and have felt honored by his ac 
 ceptance. Besides preaching religion from the pulpit, 
 he also dealt out politics liberally, and among the
 
 60 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 whites was known as a dangerous and rabid Radical. 
 His local influence among the negroes had drawn the 
 attention of their white leaders, and these knew how 
 to make him their willing tool. He had immediately 
 impressed upon the Gildersleeves' domestics his impor 
 tance in the town, and it was with much satisfaction 
 that he saw the prospect of obtaining in the future 
 many a good meal from the " Yankees' " table. 
 
 The others in the kitchen were the servants of the 
 household. Betsy Green, the cook, was a short 
 thick-set woman, who sat industriously fanning herself 
 and admiring her reverend visitor. With her sleeves 
 rolled up above the elbows, and her head bound in a 
 variously-colored kerchief, she was a type of the good- 
 natured simple African. Pompey Singleton the man 
 servant, and Lucinda Brown the housemaid, also lent 
 their presence to the gathering ; but they were evi 
 dently regarded as lesser lights by the visitors. 
 
 " So yer boss say dat yer mustn't tell de missus 
 dat de house is hanted?" remarked the preacher, as 
 he poised upon his black fingers a cup of fragrant 
 tea. 
 
 " Dat's jes' de bery words he said," answered Pom 
 pey. 
 
 " Hes dose white folks no respeck fur 'emselves, dat 
 dey is willin' to stay in dat house ? " asked the cook. 
 
 " An' what did yer tell 'um, Mr. Singleton ? " queried 
 Tomkins, ignoring the last question. 
 
 " I tell 'um, I knowed de ole lady walked de house, 
 Mr. Tomkins." 
 
 " De ting is jest dis, brudder," said the cook. 
 " What is we gwine ter do ? Gib up de place, an' go 
 back to Car'llton ? De fam'bly is small an' de pay is
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 61 
 
 good, so I don't want ter gib mine up. What shell we 
 do, brudder ?" 
 
 " Sister, yer sitivation is delikit, delikit, eben 'men- 
 tous, I might say," returned Tomkins gravely. "What 
 do yer tink, Mr. Singleton ? " 
 
 This individual did not reply ; perhaps some gloomy 
 forebodings of evil in the future kept him silent, or 
 possibly he was a cautious man who preferred first to 
 obtain the sense of the meeting. 
 
 " I'se been tole," chimed the chamber maid, for the 
 first time, and with the least bit of hysterical agitation, 
 " dat when de ole lady screams yer can hear her half a 
 mile! She hes on a long white dress, an' ef eber yer sets 
 eye on her, you'se sure ter die afore de moon turns." 
 
 " Well, my brederin," said Tomkins slowly, and as 
 suming his most ministerial air, " de facs ob de case is 
 dese : Dat sperit ob de ole lady is sent on airth by de 
 debbel. She was bery wicked in her life, up ter all 
 kind o' debbelment, so de ole boy gits her when she's 
 dead, an' he sen's her back here ter do his work. 
 Don't yer know how de Good Book tells us dat de 
 debbels got inter de swine an' mek 'em drown "em- 
 selves ? Well, dat is jes' de wickedness dat dis ole 
 lady is pokin' 'round fur. De debbel sen's her up 
 here ter ketch souls fer him, an' ef eber she gits inter 
 yer, de Lord hab mussy on yer soul ! You would hab 
 ter fight hard, my brudder; yer would hab ter pray in a 
 most partic'lar manner, ye sinners ; yes, my sisters, yer 
 would hab ter wrastle all night long wid dat sperit, as 
 ole Jacob did, eben ter de break ob day ! " 
 
 Profound and awful was the silence when the 
 preacher had finished. The two women had thrown 
 themselves on their knees, and interrupted once or
 
 62 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 twice with a fervent " amen." Pompey had groaned : 
 " De Lord hab mussy." 
 
 " Rise, sisters, rise," said Tomkins, as the women 
 still knelt. 
 
 " Yer link, den, brudder," said the cook, as she 
 obeyed, " dat we better go back to Car'llton ? " 
 
 Now this was just what the reverend brother did not 
 wish to happen ; it was the last plan he would advise. 
 He had easily acquired influence over these servants, 
 partly because the cook happened to have relatives in 
 the town who belonged to his church. If they re 
 signed their places, others would be obtained, and his 
 work would have to be done over again. The Gilder- 
 sleeves had the appearance of wealth ; they promised 
 to live well, and he was sure of many tid-bits in this 
 kitchen whose occupants he could manipulate so easily. 
 He quickly answered : 
 
 " Dis is a good place, sisters. Better be keerful 
 what yer do. 'Sposin' you all leave here when yer 
 work is done, an' go sleep wid yer friens ? De ole lady 
 aint gwine ter hurt ye in de day time, an' ef yer don't 
 stay here at night, you'se safe "nouf." 
 
 This advice was received with evident satisfaction 
 by all, particularly the butler. " You'se a bery wise 
 man," said he, shaking the preacher's hand. 
 
 They were anxious now to depart at once, which 
 Tomkins rather encouraged, as he had fully satisfied 
 the cravings of his inner self. There would be no dif 
 ficulty in procuring sleeping accommodations. Ne 
 groes are a good-natured, sociable set of people, who 
 have many friends among themselves, and are capable 
 of developing an intimacy in a very short time. They 
 mix with each other quite indiscriminately ; and it was
 
 THE REMOVAL TO BELLEVILLE. 63 
 
 an easy matter for these to find sleeping places, partic 
 ularly as the character of the accommodations was a 
 matter of small importance. Negroes, as a rule, are 
 much more concerned about what they eat than where 
 they sleep, or, indeed, it might be said, how little they 
 wear. 
 
 Their remaining work was speedily despatched, and 
 very shortly the kitchen was closed, the only lights to 
 be seen being those from the upper rooms of the house. 
 
 E
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT." 
 
 TWO or three weeks had elapsed since the establish 
 ment of the Gildersleeves in Belleville. During 
 that time their household had been arranged, and now 
 presented the appearance of a well-ordered and cosy 
 home. The novelty of their new life had begun to 
 wear off, and they were gradually becoming accus 
 tomed to their surroundings. At first the good peo 
 ple of Belleville viewed with much curiosity, and pos 
 sibly with a little suspicion, the presence of the North 
 erners in their quiet town. It was, indeed, quite an 
 event in its history, and very closely were the strangers 
 scrutinized. 
 
 "Are they more carpet-baggers ?" was repeatedly 
 asked. 
 
 "No," said the all-wise neighbor Jones, "I hardly think 
 so, for they appear to be people of means. I hear they 
 have their house beautifully furnished, and their horses 
 and carriage are certainly as good as we had before the 
 war." 
 
 " I wonder if they are people of family ? " asked 
 Mrs. De Pretoriau, who boasted of having lost an 
 ancestor at the massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
 
 " The girl is deuced pretty, awfully stylish, and I 
 mean to know her," said young De Pretoriau. 
 
 " Well, they are Yankees, and I think they had bet- 
 
 (64)
 
 "A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT." 65 
 
 ter have stayed in their own country," remarked old 
 Mr. Tontille, who had lost three sons around Rich 
 mond. 
 
 " But, my dear," returned his wife, " I hear the lady 
 is dying of consumption, and the climate of the North 
 is too cold for her." 
 
 " I understand he wants to invest money here. 
 Well, after the niggers up at the State Capital have had 
 their fingers in his pockets, he'll wish he'd never come." 
 Captain Madson, the speaker, grinned knowingly. 
 
 Many and various were the opinions held concern 
 ing the family, until they had presented certain letters 
 obtained from their Carrollton friends. The Grahams 
 came up one Sunday morning, accompanied the Gil- 
 dersleeves to church, and spent the day at their house. 
 As if by magic, all further doubt regarding the stran 
 gers was at once removed, and in the course of the 
 following week nearly the whole town had called to pay 
 respects, many, doubtless, through curiosity. 
 
 " We only waited that you might get fixed," said 
 Mrs. De Pretoriau, which might be interpreted thus : 
 " I could not call until I was sure of your respectabil 
 ity. If the Grahams and the Graviors are your friends, 
 you must be somebody." 
 
 And thus affairs moved on. The Gildersleeves 
 made many acquaintances, and an interchange of visits 
 followed. On every side, however, they were received 
 with much formality. The people were pleasant, and 
 some seemed quite interested in Mrs. Gildersleeve's 
 health ; but as yet the family had received very few 
 social attentions, save from their Carrollton friends. 
 This stiffness, Mr. Gildersleeve believed would wear 
 away in time ; and he was much pleased at the pros-
 
 66 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 pect of having agreeable neighbors, whose society 
 would relieve the tedium of their country life. 
 
 The climate seemed already to invigorate Mrs. Gild- 
 ersleeve, and her health had improved. Perceiving the 
 change with great satisfaction, her husband felt that 
 he could now direct his attention to the factory scheme ; 
 and with a view to learning the general sentiment 
 towards his project, he conversed on the subject with 
 the different men he met, both in Carrollton and Belle 
 ville. Some few did not believe that success would 
 attend the enterprise ; others expressed the opinion 
 that the State government would not be sufficiently 
 generous towards the undertaking, and that the taxa 
 tion would be ruinously heavy. But in the main, the 
 sentiment of the people was one of encouragement ; 
 all seemed interested, many were sanguine of success, 
 and not a few promised their assistance as soon as the 
 scheme took the shape of a corporation. Again was 
 Mr. Gildersleeve agreeably disappointed. He was sur 
 prised at the interest exhibited, for he had expected 
 that the people generally, prompted by sectional feel 
 ing, would sneer at and oppose his plans. A few, 
 undoubtedly, did pursue this course, and there were 
 some unseen obstacles yet to appear. But those who 
 threw cold water represented only themselves, fossils 
 as they were, the remnants of a decaying regime. The 
 active and energetic men of the day supported him 
 with one accord ; and a number, among whom were 
 Colonel Graham and Francis Gravoir, expressed a 
 desire to participate in the enterprise. 
 
 A meeting of all interested was finally held at the 
 office of Francis Gravoir ; and after a free discussion, 
 the plans of Mr. Gildersleeve were endorsed with
 
 A MAN'S A MAN 'POR A' THAT. 67 
 
 great unanimity. It was decided to form an incorpor 
 ated company, application being made to the legisla 
 ture for a charter, and the capital was fixed at $250,- 
 ooo. Mr. Gildersleeve was authorized to investigate 
 the various localities which had been suggested as 
 adapted for manufacturing purposes. It was under 
 stood that he was to be president of the corporation, 
 and to have practical control of the whole business. 
 Mr. Gildersleeve proposed to begin operations at an 
 early date, and desired to obtain the charter as soon as 
 the legislature met, which would be some time during 
 the next month. To avoid delay, Mr. Gravoir was 
 instructed to prepare the charter, and, placing it in 
 the hands of a representative, to urge its immediate 
 passage. The meeting ended harmoniously, and all 
 seemed pleased with the prospects. 
 
 After business had been dismissed, the gentlemen 
 were lingering in conversation, when General Gravoir 
 and Maurice Graham entered. The talk became more 
 lively, and, as often happened at this period, indeed, 
 it may be considered as a peculiarity of the American 
 character, politics soon became the topic of discuss 
 ion. This rather pleased Gildersleeve, who, after 
 once perceiving that there was no intention to force 
 conviction upon him, was glad to learn the views and 
 feelings of the people, and he rather precipitated the 
 controversy which ensued. 
 
 " I can not help thinking," said he, " as 1 walk along 
 your streets and see the ravages of war, how much suf 
 fering would have been spared both North and South 
 if our differences could have been settled peaceably. 
 How fortunate would it have been if the South had 
 been able to understand that defeat was certain."
 
 68 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Colonel Graham. " But it 
 was impossible for the Southerner to rid himself of 
 his natural vehemence, and his blind devotion to those 
 principles which he believed necessary to his polit 
 ical security. They and I mean the ruling classes 
 conscientiously believed in their political tenets ; they 
 regarded the election of President Lincoln as the indi 
 cation of a radical change in national politics, which 
 would, in its progress, not only overthrow the institu 
 tion of slavery, but with its downfall destroy even the 
 political power of the South. Roused by this impend 
 ing danger, they hastily but resolutely passed the ordi 
 nances of secession, and hustled the Southern States 
 out of the Union, without stopping to consider whether 
 they were able to withstand the assaults they were 
 bound to expect. They thought that they were right, 
 and they stopped to consider nothing else." 
 
 " Yes," interrupted General Gravoir, " they felt 
 that they would rather die than submit to the tyranny 
 of the Abolitionists, and they staked their all upon the 
 issue, and lost. But they have the satisfaction of pre 
 serving their honor, at least." 
 
 " You are right, General," replied Graham ; " but 
 it is on account of their abandoning themselves to that 
 feeling that fault may be found with our leaders. One 
 who is not acquainted with Southern life and charac 
 ter is amazed at the blind self-confidence they dis 
 played in sustaining slavery against the united opposi 
 tion of the civilized world. As Dr. Lieber said in one 
 of his letters to Mr. Calhoun : ' It is not the North 
 that is against you, it is mankind, it is the world, it 
 is civilization, it is history, it is reason, it is God, that 
 is against slavery.' '
 
 "A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT." 69 
 
 " Or, more surprising still, how did the whole peo 
 ple become so infatuated with slavery, that they rose 
 like one man in its defence ? " inquired Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve. 
 
 " That is a popular error, which even many South 
 erners have shared," replied Colonel Graham. " A 
 majority of the people endorsed the actions of the 
 leaders, but there was still a respectable minority who 
 opposed secession, on the very grounds I have men 
 tioned. Secession was the work of a few men, and did 
 not emanate from the people. Many of those who 
 supported it from the outset, did so in a majority of 
 cases because the leaders had stamped it with their 
 approval, and not through any fixed opinions of their 
 own ; while a large number subsequently expressed 
 their loyalty because it was dangerous to oppose the 
 majority." 
 
 " You are mistaken," again interrupted General Gra- 
 voir. " Secession was opposed by only a small minor 
 ity ; secession was the work of an essentially united 
 people, not of a few hot-headed leaders, as you put it. 
 I think you do the Southern people great injustice 
 when you say that they neither could nor would think 
 for themselves." 
 
 " I beg to differ with you, General," said Maurice 
 Graham, who spoke for the first time. " It is an actual 
 fact you may not admit it, for you belonged to the 
 ruling class that the State government, prior to the 
 war, was republican only in name. It was essentially 
 an aristocratic drawing-room government. The South 
 ern aristocracy ruled the land, to the exclusion of the 
 common and middle classes. It was their interest to 
 sustain slavery at any cost, for with its abolition their
 
 70 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 power was gone. The prominent leaders created an 
 excitement ; they delivered passionate speeches to the 
 people, proclaimed that our rights and liberties were 
 being trampled on, and that our very political exist 
 ence was threatened. The masses believed these utter 
 ances, accepted the cause of the leaders as their own, 
 and hurrahed for secession." 
 
 " But how do you explain the absence of that indi 
 viduality of thought and opinion which we find in other 
 sections of our country ?" inquired Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 " That is easily understood when we remember that 
 subserviency to the ruling class was the result of three 
 causes : first, the unity of interest among that class ; 
 second, their intolerance of opposition and their power 
 to suppress those who dared to be independent ; and 
 third, the narrow provincial education provided for 
 Southern youth. The love of power is a strong pas 
 sion, and will unify the most opposite characters. 
 Even where people who have themselves been slaves 
 are admitted into the ruling class, they in time be 
 come oppressors because of the uncertain tenure by 
 which they hold their position. Since their exclusive 
 power rested solely upon the existence of slavery, and 
 being accustomed in their management of slaves to 
 have their slightest wish obeyed, this ruling class were 
 intolerant of opposition by those whom they regarded 
 as inferiors. But the most important cause was the 
 character of Southern education. From early infancy, 
 by a judicious selection of books containing Southern 
 literature, the children were grounded in sectional 
 ideas and prejudices, and were taught to declaim the 
 fiery utterances of Southern statesmen. Every book 
 which presented other or contrary views was excluded
 
 "A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT," 71 
 
 from the Southern youth's library, so that he grew up 
 fully imbued with the grandeur of Southern character, 
 and thoroughly convinced that the position of the South 
 on national issues was unassailable. That spirit is mani 
 fested even to this day. Not long ago, I was present 
 in one of the Sunday-schools of this city, and I saw 
 the superintendent reject a book donated to the library 
 because it alluded to the war as ' the late rebellion.' 
 Perhaps, had I not been educated abroad, I would not 
 now hold these views, for they are not those of my 
 early youth. But when I met people from all parts of 
 the world, and studied opinions and literature so oppo 
 site to those that obtained at home, the truth grad 
 ually dawned upon me, and I reached the conclusion, 
 which I now maintain, that Southern education before 
 the war was altogether unreliable in matters peculiarly 
 affecting Southern interests. No wonder, then, that 
 the Southern people became en masse hero- worshippers, 
 and believed the warnings of their heroes that the 
 abolition of slavery would be the country's ruin." 
 
 " H'm," interposed General Gravoir, flushed with 
 excitement ; " you will say next that slavery was a 
 
 crime, and, like the d d abolitionists of the North, 
 
 that our defeat was a divine retribution for its main 
 tenance ! " 
 
 " I do not support such extreme views on this sub 
 ject," said Colonel Graham. " But you know, Gen 
 eral, I always detested slavery, and held slaves only to 
 supply my family with efficient domestic service. I 
 studiously avoided the hardships that resulted from 
 extensive slave-ownership, such as the separation of 
 families, and consequently I possessed more slaves
 
 72 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 than I needed. They were a burden, not a profitable 
 investment." 
 
 " Then why did you not urge the abolition of sla 
 very ? " asked one of the gentlemen present. 
 
 " Because I thought that the institution was an econ 
 omical necessity to the South. I believed, from the light 
 I then had, that its abolition would destroy our labor 
 system and demoralize our industries, as it would be 
 impossible to replace slavery by an effective free labor. 
 The presence of the negroes in such large numbers 
 would drive out white labor, just as cheap silver coin 
 will displace gold in monetary systems. But experi 
 ence since the war, although attended with disastrous 
 consequences, has demonstrated that free labor can be 
 as successfully employed as slave labor, and without 
 any of the disagreeable accompaniments that attended 
 the latter. But there was another and a powerful ele 
 ment in the feeling, which was that it would be useless 
 to attempt the abolition of slavery so long as popular 
 opinion insisted upon its maintenance, without help 
 from abroad. Once planted in the South, the institu 
 tion became too deeply engrafted to be easily removed; 
 and it required just such a war as we have passed 
 through, to eradicate the evil. Those who did not 
 come under its corroding influences should not mea 
 sure the responsibility of the South by their own stan 
 dard of right and wrong. It was a troublesome, 
 deep-seated evil, and, thank God ! it has become a 
 thing of the past ! " 
 
 " Those are certainly not my views on slavery," 
 said General Gravoir, as Colonel Graham finished 
 speaking. " I maintain that the negro is, by the decree 
 of God, intended to be the servant and slave of the
 
 "A MAW'S A MAN FOR A' THAT." 73 
 
 Caucasian race. He is incapable of entering into suc 
 cessful competition with his superiors, and must, under 
 the law of natural selection, if not by divine will, take 
 the lowest position in the social scale. The Old Tes 
 tament tells us that Canaan and all his seed were cursed 
 by Noah and condemned to be forever the servants of 
 the seed of Shem and Japhet. Why, then, should 
 African slavery, if conducted humanely, conflict with 
 the teachings and doctrines of Christianity ? " 
 
 " How do you reconcile your position General," 
 asked Mr. Gildersleeve, " with the undisputed fact that 
 the early Christians opposed Roman slavery and finally 
 succeeded in securing its abolition ? " 
 
 " Very easily," was the ready answer. " Roman 
 slavery was the enslaving of equals, captives taken in 
 war from races and peoples rivalling the Romans both 
 in intelligence and material development. But we en 
 slaved only our inferiors, a race that was accursed by 
 God, and in maintaining slavery we were but instru 
 ments in God's hands." 
 
 "I know, General," interrupted Maurice, "that 
 those are your conscientious convictions ; but it is im 
 possible for me to conceive of a just God who could 
 consign a whole race to slavery on account of the sup 
 posed sin of its original progenitor. I reject any such 
 religious dogma. Science teaches us that mankind has 
 reached its present state through a continuous course 
 of self-causing development, from the lowest condition 
 of human life and perhaps even beyond. I believe that 
 the negro, when removed from unfavorable surround 
 ings, is capable of the highest development. This may 
 require generations ; but the time can be shortened 
 by providing the race with advantages. Our own
 
 74 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 people are gradually learning to look upon the intel 
 lectual and moral elevation of the negro as a political 
 necessity. A great revolution in public opinion is 
 quietly going on at the South, and I venture the asser 
 tion that the time will come, and at no very distant 
 day, when our posterity will blush to acknowledge that 
 their forefathers upheld slavery and opposed its aboli 
 tion with all the power they could wield." 
 
 "What are you talking about, young man? "ex 
 claimed General Gravoir, with a flushed face and voice 
 trembling with indignation. " Our posterity blush for 
 the misdeeds of their forefathers ! Good God ! I 
 never thought to see tlie day when a Southerner would 
 breathe such sentiments ! That comes of sending 
 children to Europe to be educated ! Look here, Mau 
 rice, you are still young and inexperienced, and you 
 are not expected to handle such subjects intelligently. 
 Take my advice, if you desire to live in Carrollton, and 
 never again give expression to such anti-Southern 
 views." The old gentlemen, having risen from his 
 seat, bowed to the group as he concluded, and with a 
 haughty stride left the office. 
 
 " My father loses control over himself when he hears 
 opinions so different from what he believes to be true," 
 said Francis Gravoir, evidently desiring to remove any 
 unpleasantness that might be caused by the General's 
 abrupt departure. " He was educated in the old school 
 of Southern politics, and at his time of life it is impos 
 sible for one to become reconciled to such radical 
 changes. I do not, myself, share all the views of Col 
 onel Graham or his son ; I accept the situation as it is. 
 Born of that class which Colonel Graham has termed 
 the aristocracy, it is but natural that I should deplore
 
 " A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THA T." 75 
 
 the loss of wealth and power. But revolutions never 
 go backward; so I accept the inevitable, and only trust 
 that our people will work out a solution of the problem 
 which this revolution has left behind." 
 
 By the time Gravoir had finished speaking, several 
 of the gentlemen had risen to leave, and the party 
 broke up rather suddenly, as though a damper had 
 been cast across the freedom of the discussion. Even 
 now, the expiring influence of the old aristocracy 
 could still be perceived in the hesitation with which 
 men of advanced ideas declared their position. 
 
 Afterwards, when thinking over the conversation, 
 Gildersleeve said to himself : " Well, I am glad to have 
 met one red-hot Southerner ; but yet, apart from his 
 politics, he seems a very respectable old gentleman."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER. 
 
 UPON Mr. Gildersleeve devolved the duty of select 
 ing a site for the proposed factory, his choice 
 being subject to approval by the company ; and for a 
 week or two he had been actively engaged investigating 
 the merits of the various localities mentioned to him, but 
 as yet had decided upon none. He had visited many 
 estates, and it is scarcely too much to say that he was 
 shocked by the desolation that met his eye. Vast 
 fields, that before the war had borne each year large 
 crops of rice and cotton, were lying unfilled, and in 
 many cases had returned to their original condition of 
 swampy wilderness. Here and there the proprietor of 
 a plantation had selected a few hundred acres, and oc 
 casionally managed to secure handsome crops. But 
 when inquiry was made of his financial condition, it 
 was ascertained that he labored under a load of debt 
 to his factor in Carrollton. Scattered all through 
 these large plantations were small tracts of from five 
 to fifty acres, rented by negroes and cultivated after a 
 slovenly fashion. If the crops proved good, the rent 
 would probably be paid ; but if they failed, either 
 through bad seasons or by the cultivator's negligence, 
 the negro tenant did not hold himself responsible. One 
 of the most paying industries seemed to be the making 
 of rosin and turpentine ; and as there are large areas 
 
 (76)
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER. 77 
 
 of pine forests around Belleville, the business was ex 
 tensively conducted. But agriculturally, the region 
 along the coast was, as far as he could observe, com 
 pletely prostrated. There were barely enough crops 
 raised to subsist the scanty white population. How 
 the innumerable negroes lived, was a mystery to him. 
 He had been told, and believed, that this sad condition 
 did not exist to so great an extent in other portions of 
 the State. But why the difference ? It could not be 
 that the malaria prevailing in the lower region was the 
 cause, for the unhealthiness of a rice plantation never 
 prevented its cultivation before the war. Did the 
 character of the population exert much influence ? It 
 certainly seemed so ; along the coast the whites were 
 very few in number, and the negro majority was im 
 mense ; while as one traveled up from the water-line 
 the whites increased, and at the same time farms 
 became more numerous and their appearance more 
 thrifty. 
 
 These reflections were suggested to Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve while pursuing his investigations. He had been 
 pleased with two or three localities, but particularly 
 with one a few miles out of Belleville. He had several 
 times visited this place to see the owner, who, however, 
 had happened to be absent on these occasions. At 
 each visit Mr. Gildersleeve was more impressed with 
 the advantages the place offered. On this plantation, 
 the pine-land belt extended almost to the river which 
 emptied into Carrollton harbor, and the principal 
 railroad leading out of the city traversed its acres. 
 Water and fuel were abundant, communication with 
 Carrollton would be easy, and healthy homes might be 
 built for the operatives in the pine forests.
 
 ?8 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Being very anxious to meet the proprietor, and hav 
 ing been informed of his return, Mr. Gildersleeve set 
 out one bright crispy November afternoon, with his 
 wife and daughter, to ride down to the plantation. 
 Even in those dense pine regions through which their 
 road was a sandy track for a half hour or more, there 
 is much to impress the stranger unaccustomed to such 
 grand yet solitary forests. After leaving the town, only 
 an occasional squatter settlement of negroes presented 
 itself, consisting of a few wretched huts almost buried 
 among the lofty pines ; or even more rarely would be 
 seen the unpretentious cottage of a white farmer. On 
 either side of the road the pines presented one dense 
 towering growth, and as far as the eye could scan 
 between their shapely trunks, pine succeeded pine until 
 the gaze was interrupted by the dark and impenetrable 
 mass. 
 
 Tall and regular in their growth as these trees are, 
 and beautiful and strong enough to bear the pennant 
 of the old style man-of-war, there is a grandeur in 
 their massive array that can not fail to produce its 
 effect upon him who travels through them for the first 
 time. But when he looks forward into their dark and 
 gloomy recesses, one is unconsciously relieved that 
 fortune does not compel him to dwell there always ; 
 rather would he seek the gladness of the sunshine and 
 fields, of the meadows and flowing brooks, than the 
 hidden depths of a forest where the owl screeches even 
 in daylight, and the buck grazes quietly with no fear 
 of the hound. 
 
 The land as a rule was very level, and presented 
 almost no variety. About every mile or so, the sur 
 face would gradually rise to form an elevation but
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER. 79 
 
 slightly raised above the surrounding country. Here 
 the soil was sandy and dry, supporting very little veg 
 etation except the pines. From one of these eleva 
 tions the descent was gentle until the other extreme 
 was met. Then the vegetation changed almost com 
 pletely. The pines seemed to avoid these boggy resorts 
 of the moccasin and snipe, carefully skirting the bor 
 ders. In their stead grew thickly a mass of tangled 
 vines and brushwood, the air laden perhaps with the 
 delicious odor of the yellow jessamine. Interspersed 
 throughout such a jungle stood the cypress and the 
 gnarled oak, covered with venerable moss ; one might 
 almost imagine these stumpy trees apologizing for the 
 dignity they lacked in the presence of so many majes 
 tic pines. 
 
 Sometimes a long line of such growth would run 
 through the very heart of a pine forest for a considerable 
 distance, forming a complete boundary line between two 
 large areas of pine. The soil was always wet in these 
 localities, and they were justly considered unhealthy 
 for the white man. In wet weather these brakes always 
 overflow with water,' which joins the river not many 
 miles distant. 
 
 A traveler might ride for a long distance through 
 such a forest without hearing a human voice. Some 
 times the sound of a wood-chopper's axe might break 
 the silence ; and if curiosity prompted investigation, 
 at the end of a devious path he would find a few negroes 
 lazily cutting into convenient logs the pine they had 
 felled, bringing probably in its descent several others 
 with it. The coming of a stranger upon a party of 
 negroes thus engaged stops work completely fora time. 
 They gather around him, or sit upon the pile of wood 
 F
 
 80 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 they have collected, and inspect the latest arrival from 
 civilization with the utmost simplicity. Even the oxen 
 harnessed to the wagon near by know that something 
 unusual has happened, and slowly turn their large stu 
 pid eyes towards the center of interest. The mangy 
 cur, which is the negro's constant companion, invaria 
 bly comes up and passes compliments in different ways 
 according to the nature of the dog. The negroes feel 
 complimented by such a visit, and, good-natured folks 
 as they are when free from politics and whiskey, 
 answer glibly all questions. Perhaps, if the traveler 
 has lost his way, one of them immediately volunteers 
 to set him on the right road ; even a friendly rivalry 
 being manifested to fill such an honorable post. But 
 when, tired of the scene, the stranger turns to go, no 
 sooner do the negroes perceive his intention, than one 
 of them steps up, doffs his head-gear if he possesses 
 any, or else scrapes his foot, and in the most insinuat 
 ing tone, says : " Please, Massa, is yer got any ter- 
 backy?" The tobacco is produced, and up comes 
 another negro, then another, and another, until they 
 all have had a piece and the tobacco has disappeared. 
 
 But beyond such exceptional scenes, a profound 
 stillness prevails in these woods, broken occasionally 
 by the chirp of the cricket, or the drumming of the 
 woodpecker as he seeks his daily meal in the bark of a 
 pine. Otherwise, only the low soughing sound is 
 heard in its strong yet plaintive sadness, as the air 
 moves listlessly through the bushy heads of innumer 
 able pines. 
 
 After an hour's ride, for the most part through such 
 a pine forest, the Gildersleeves approached the plan 
 tation they were to visit. This estate was the prop-
 
 A SOUTHER IV FIRE-EATER. 81 
 
 erty of a Major Louis Mixon a man who was somewhat 
 of a character in this section. He could trace his 
 ancestors back to early colonial time ; but exactly where 
 they had come from, neither he nor any one else knew. 
 However, some of his family had served with gallantry 
 both against the Indians and the British ; and having 
 managed to acquire land, to which additions had been 
 made by several generations, their title to membership 
 among the gentry was considered indisputable. But 
 in manners and cultivation Mixon represented a class 
 small, it is true that was very provincial and limited 
 in knowledge of the great world. Though possessed 
 of ample means, these people almost invariably lived 
 a lifetime on their plantations, occasionally running 
 down to Carrollton, where their wealth, family record 
 and connections gave them excellent social position. 
 Even the people of Carrollton recognized the glaring 
 provincialisms of their country cousins, but good-na 
 turedly forgave them. A few years prior to the war, there 
 were some who had begun to avail themselves of their 
 advantages ; and had the war not occurred, doubtless 
 the greatly increased facilities for travel and education 
 would have done much to improve the manners and 
 habits of a half-century ago. Spending most of his 
 youth on the family plantation, Louis Mixon was one 
 of the best horsemen and hunters in the country 
 around, and had an excellent knowledge of agricul 
 ture as practised in his section. But even that was anti 
 quated when compared with the improved methods 
 employed in other portions of the country. Still, as 
 slave labor was cheap, and, when well disciplined, very 
 profitable, there was no incentive to improvement, and 
 Mixon learned farming after the fashion of his grand-
 
 82 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 fathers. With the abolition of slavery, came inevita 
 bly the fall of the old system of agriculture ; and 
 Mixon, like many others, was too strongly wedded to 
 former habits to forget them and learn new ones, even 
 if opportunity presented itself. 
 
 Left an orphan at nineteen, and succeeding to the 
 estate at twenty-one, Mixon had seen nothing of the 
 world ; and when, at the age of thirty, the war broke 
 out between the States, it found him deeply imbued 
 with all the intensely passionate prejudices of the 
 South, and ready to die in their defence. The owner 
 of several hundred slaves, he had an innate contempt 
 for the negro except as a labor machine, and he believed 
 that the abolition of slavery was only national rob 
 bery. He was of that headstrong class who rushed 
 the South to bloodshed and ruin, living, many of them, 
 to' regret their passion, while only death could quench 
 their prejudices. 
 
 At the outbreak of the war, Mixon entered service 
 as a lieutenant of a cavalry company raised in his 
 county. In the first fight the captain was killed, and 
 Mixon was promoted to the vacancy. Shortly after, 
 he led his company in a desperate charge without 
 orders, for which he was suspended. A month or two 
 later he was reinstated, but in the very next battle he 
 received a severe wound and was sent home. Remain 
 ing on his plantation about a year, he rejoined his com 
 mand, and at the close of the war he held the rank of 
 Major. 
 
 At last, when he finally returned home with much 
 bitterness in his heart, he felt himself a ruined man. 
 Of all his princely wealth, what remained ? Only one 
 or two thousands of now worthless acres ; his slaves
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER 83 
 
 all freed ; his stock killed or driven off ; the outbuild 
 ings razed, the old family mansion gutted and partially 
 burned ; his bank account represented by worthless 
 papers ; it seemed to him that every resource was 
 exhausted, and in the year following, his family would 
 actually have suffered for the necessaries of life had 
 it not been for his ready rifle and the abundant game 
 in the forests around. After a fashion, he managed to 
 live, and now he was engaged in cultivating a small 
 acreage, but his main reliance was on the turpentine 
 and rosin industry. With borrowed capital he had 
 built a large still among the pines ; but his debts pressed 
 him so closely that he barely eked out a subsistence for 
 his family. The whole estate was in disorder, much 
 of his richest land having become a wilderness of brush 
 wood. 
 
 Personally, Major Mixon was a man of much force 
 of character, although misdirected. Of magnificent 
 physique, six feet in his stockings, and with muscles 
 hardened to iron by constant exercise, many a refrac 
 tory negro had felt the weight of his arm. Impetuous 
 and of undaunted courage, the negroes knew him as 
 an inflexible man, before whom they could assert their 
 newly acquired rights only when numbers gave them 
 confidence. Each felt that "the bottom rail was on 
 top," and though the negroes were very polite to the 
 "boss," yet in politics a wide gap separated the former 
 master and the old slave. Sometimes, it is true, this 
 difference seemed about to be removed ; but as yet 
 there were too many demagogues pandering to the 
 ignorance of the one, and the prejudices of the other 
 were too intense for such a happy occurrence. 
 
 But the Gildersleeves were nearing Mixon's resi-
 
 84 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 dence, and had just left the main road, through a dilap 
 idated gate-way, to drive up the broad avenue, lined 
 with noble trees, that leads for almost a quarter of a 
 mile to the old family house. Even now, Mixon was 
 proud of these oaks, and could honestly point out a 
 number as being over a hundred years old. The Gild- 
 ersleeves were riding slowly along this avenue, admir 
 ing the beauty of the oaks for they were of a very 
 different kind from the scrubby trees to be seen in the 
 brakes, when their coachman exchanged words with 
 two passing negroes, and suddenly stopping the 
 horses, bent down to speak to those inside. 
 
 " What's the matter, Pompey ? " 
 
 " Mass Gillersleebe, dese niggers dat's jest gone by, 
 dey says dere is trouble up at de house 'tween Mass 
 Mixon an' his turpentine niggers. All de niggers is on 
 a strike fur mo' pay, an' de Major won't gib in." 
 
 " They didn't say that there was any disturbance ? " 
 
 " Not 'zactly, sah, but I cal'clate dat dey is 'terro- 
 gatin' each oder purty stiff like." 
 
 " Well, we are so near now, I suppose you had bet 
 ter drive on ; but if there is any trouble we'll turn 
 back." 
 
 The carriage proceeded, and in a few minutes more 
 rolled off the avenue into a broad open space where a 
 curious scene was presented. This space, perhaps some 
 ten acres in extent, was perfectly level, and was the 
 remains of a once beautiful lawn. Now its greater 
 portion bore only weeds of a ragged growth, with here 
 and there a patch of bright green grass which served 
 to suggest the former glories of the sward. At the 
 eastern end of the lawn stood a substantial square two- 
 story brick building, considerably elevated above the
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE- EATER. 85 
 
 ground. A spacious piazza, ran the whole length of 
 that side of the first floor fronting the lawn, and from 
 this piazza rose up to the roof of the building six 
 round and massive pillars, the windows of the second 
 floor looking down on the piazza. Large and heavy 
 stone steps led up to the piazza from the lawn, and a 
 granite support at the foot of the steps held on either 
 side the figure of a rampant lion. 
 
 Tied to hitching-posts just beneath the piazza were 
 some half dozen saddle-horses, and seated above were 
 the same number of men, smoking and talking. In 
 their midst was a large and heavily built individual, 
 with a sun-burnt face, and a sandy beard which 
 extended half way down his chest. This was Major 
 Mixon. He was dressed in a rough coat and trowsers, 
 top boots and spurs, blouse shirt, and broad-brimmed 
 slouch hat ; " my country suit, sir," as he was wont to 
 say. 
 
 About thirty yards from the house stood a single 
 large oak, with widely branching limbs ; one of those 
 trees of which Major Mixon could say : " Over a hun 
 dred years old, sir ! " Around the tree were gathered 
 perhaps three or four scores of negroes, a few of whom 
 were women and children. Some of this crowd were 
 lying on their backs, just as negroes love to sprawl ; 
 others seemed to be engaged in earnest conversation. 
 
 The carriage of the Gildersleeves drove up and 
 stopped in front of the house. In a moment after 
 ward Mr. Gildersleeve was out, and ascended the steps. 
 Removing his hat, he asked : 
 
 " Is Mr. Mixon here ? " 
 
 " That's my name," responded the large individual. 
 " Take a seat," pushing one towards Mr. Gildersleeve.
 
 86 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 but not rising from his own. " Have you come to 
 help those niggers out ? They said they were going 
 to send for somebody from Carrollton to advise 'em, 
 and I 'spose you are the man, eh ?" 
 
 " Why, no/' returned the Northerner in surprise. 
 " My name is Gildersleeve. I have had some corre 
 spondence with you through Mr. Gravior, regarding 
 land that you might be willing to sell." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " exclaimed the Major, who seemed decid 
 edly in a bad humor ; " so you are that Yankee fellow 
 from Massachusetts who wants to start a factory down 
 South, eh ? Well, I thought you were a Yankee' , yes, 
 I did, from your voice. By gosh, Colton," turning to 
 a man who sat beside him, " ain't it curious how you 
 can spot those fellows the first word they drop?" 
 
 " Mighty queer, Major," responded Colton ; " bred 
 in the bone, I should say." 
 
 "So you want to buy some of my land, Mr. 
 What's-yer-name ? " continued Mixon. 
 
 "Gildersleeve," replied the gentleman, rather stiffly. 
 He had risen from the chair which he had taken at first, 
 and now stood uncertain whether he had been insulted 
 or not. " I can't say that I have decided on buying ; 
 I am only thinking of doing so. I wanted to have a 
 conversation with you on the subject, and came down 
 here to make an appointment for the purpose. I see 
 that my coming to-day is inopportune. I had no idea 
 until I reached the avenue that you were having trouble 
 with your negroes. When you get things straight 
 ened out, I will perhaps call on you again." 
 
 " Might's well say your say now, Mr. Gildersleeve," 
 answered Mixon, in a less offensive tone, and evidently 
 impressed by the other's dignity. " I have a half-hour
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER. 87 
 
 to spare. How much do you propose to pay an acre 
 for this land ? " 
 
 " I am hardly prepared to speak of terms just now, 
 in fact, the company that I represent will have to de 
 cide that point. I will call on you some other day," 
 turning to leave. 
 
 " But haven't you any idea what you will offer ? " 
 persisted the Major. 
 
 " I believe the market value of land like yours is 
 now from five to fifteen dollars an acre," answered 
 Gildersleeve. 
 
 " Five dollars an acre ! " shouted Mixon. " You 
 don't touch it under fifty ! Do you Yankees think you 
 can set our niggers free, and then come down and buy 
 our land, that has been in our families for generations, 
 for a song ? Eh ? " 
 
 " I am not prepared to discuss that question now," 
 returned Gildersleeve, with much hauteur. " We will 
 offer you a fair market price for your land if we decide 
 to buy. Good afternoon, sir." 
 
 " Oh, you Yankees are a sharp set, but you can't 
 come your tricks down South," sneered Mixon, as Gil 
 dersleeve turned to go. 
 
 " Mr. Gildersleeve ! Mr. Gildersleeve ! " shouted a 
 familiar voice from a room bordering on the piazza. 
 " Mr. Gildersleeve ! wait a minute, I want to see you,"' 
 and the next moment Maurice Graham came hastily 
 out of the house. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Mr. Graham ; I hardly expected to 
 see you here," said Gildersleeve, in some surprise. 
 
 " I was within, attending to some business for Ma 
 jor Mixon, and I heard your voice. Major, I am sorry 
 I was not out here when Mr. Gildersleeve first came
 
 88 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 up, so as to introduce him to you. He is a particular 
 friend of both my father and myself ; and as such," 
 continued Maurice, with marked emphasis, " I know 
 he will meet with a hearty welcome from you, such as 
 is due from one gentleman to the friend of another 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Of course, of course, Maurice," returned the Ma 
 jor, in quite an altered tone, having risen from his 
 chair while Maurice was speaking. " Mr. Gildersleeve, 
 I am happy to meet you, sir," extending his hand. 
 " I only heard of you in a business way through 
 Gravoir, you know, but as the friend of Graham 
 any gentleman is welcome to my house. I am 
 sorry you're a Yankee, sir ; hanged if I ain't ! But 
 all the same, sir, yes sir, you are welcome here, sir, 
 and there's my hand on it, sir." 
 
 " Thank you," answered Gildersleeve, returning the 
 compliment, and now rather amused. " I suppose 
 I should have brought a letter of introduction." 
 
 "A man Has to be careful whom he knows," re 
 joined the Major ; " so many carpet-baggers around 
 now-a-days, you see. But haven't you ladies in the 
 carriage ? Won't they come out and rest themselves ? 
 My wife is up-stairs, but in a few minutes she will re 
 ceive them." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you, Major Mixon," an 
 swered Gildersleeve, " but it is getting rather late, and 
 as my wife's health is poor, we must hurry on home. 
 But we will call again." 
 
 "'Do so, sir, by all means ; I shall be happy to see 
 you at any time. Wait a minute, I shall be back di 
 rectly," and the Major disappeared in the house.
 
 A SOUTHERN FIRE-EATER. 89 
 
 " You were the last person I expected to meet here," 
 said Gildersleeve, turning to Maurice. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," answered the latter. " Major 
 Mixon has had a hard time with his laborers, and this 
 morning he sent down for Gravoir to come up and 
 write a contract and give him some advice. Gravoir 
 could not come, so he sent me ; but I have nearly fin 
 ished all I can do, and it only remains to be seen 
 whether those negroes will accept the terms to be 
 offered them." 
 
 " How long will you be here ?" 
 
 " I shall have to stay over night ; I will be too late 
 to catch the accommodation train from this point." 
 
 " Why not come up to Belleville and spend the night 
 with us? There's a seat in the carriage." 
 
 " No, I couldn't leave now, as I still have some 
 work here. I can borrow a horse from Mixon, and 
 have it sent down in the morning, though; that is, if it 
 is not too late when I finish." 
 
 ' Oh, yes, you must come ; we will wait supper, so 
 don't mind about being a little late." 
 
 Here Major Mixon returned from the house, bear 
 ing an old battered silver tray, on which was a heavy 
 cut-glass decanter, its top partly broken off, and a few 
 old-fashioned wine-glasses, the whole hinting strongly 
 of a decayed splendor, like everything else on the 
 estate. 
 
 " Mr. Gildersleeve, here's some wine I can recom 
 mend. It belonged to a lot imported long before the 
 war, and my family saved a portion by burying it in a 
 rice-field. Come down and introduce me to the ladies. 
 They must be tired after their long ride, and a glass 
 of wine will refresh them."
 
 90 THE SHADOW OF HE TWAR. 
 
 " Certainly, with pleasure," replied the gentleman 
 addressed. When the introduction was effected, the 
 Major pressed the wine upon the ladies, and it really 
 being excellent, they naturally asked many questions 
 about its history, all of which pleased him greatly, and 
 he became very affable. By the time they had ex 
 changed farewell, his manner was even warm in its 
 sociability, and he was urgent that the ladies should 
 call again. After calling to Maurice, who stood on 
 the piazza, " Be sure to come to-night, for we will 
 expect you," Mr. Gildersleeve bade the coachman 
 drive on, and the carriage rolled rapidly away toward 
 the avenue.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ONE OF A NEW GENERATION. 
 
 THE afternoon had almost worn away, when Mau 
 rice Graham mounted a horse from Major Mixon's 
 stable and set out for Belleville. The day had been a 
 busy one, and he felt a trifle wearied at the conclusion 
 of its labors. But what was a little fatigue to Maurice 
 Graham in his present mood ? A few months previous, 
 he probably would have preferred a book and the 
 blazing logs in Major Mixon's sitting-room to a long 
 ride through a dreary forest on a stormy evening ; 
 for soon after the Gildersleeves' departure the clouds 
 began to gather in those slaty masses which always 
 promise rain. But Maurice gave no heed to the threat 
 ened storm, or to his weariness ; he was under a spell 
 just now which permitted him to think only of the 
 pleasant evening he should enjoy when Belleville was 
 reached. He did, however, button his coat a little 
 tighter as he viewed the skies, a slight acknowledg 
 ment of their unfavorable aspect ; and lighting a cigar 
 to console him during the loneliness of the ride, he 
 cantered rapidly down the avenue. 
 
 When, at the age of twenty-one, Colonel Graham 
 finished his collegiate course, he had gone to travel for 
 a year or two in Europe, according to the custom then 
 in vogue among the wealthy Carrollton youth. In 
 England he met a young lady with whom he fell deeply 
 
 (91)
 
 92 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 in love. After a brief courtship, she accepted his offer 
 of hand and heart ; but the marriage was postponed 
 for various reasons. He came back to Carrollton, and 
 at once entered his father's counting-house as a clerk ; 
 a year later he was made a partner, and the following 
 year he returned to England and was married in Liv 
 erpool. He had had four children, of whom Maurice 
 and his sister Julie, the latter now some seventeen years 
 old, were the only ones living. 
 
 Thus it can be easily understood why Mrs. Graham 
 wished her son to be educated in England, and at the 
 age of fourteen Maurice was sent over to be placed at 
 school under the supervision of his mother's relatives. 
 The war beginning, his father would not hear of his 
 return. Colonel Graham foresaw that the disordered 
 condition of the States would interfere with his educa 
 tion, and he feared that the lad's hot blood would be 
 too easily worked upon by the events of the day. So 
 he peremptorily ordered him to remain in England, the 
 agent in charge of Mrs. Graham's property there being 
 instructed to provide for his expenses. In due time 
 Maurice went to college, but he was a very dissatisfied 
 young person. His most pleasing occupation at this 
 period was to scan the newspapers for the latest Amer 
 ican news, and after reading of some terrible battle, he 
 would sit down with a throbbing head and a beating 
 heart and write to his father, imploring permission to 
 return home and enter the Confederate service. But 
 Colonel Graham was away off in Virginia, and often 
 Maurice's letters never reached him ; or when they did 
 the father would answer them firmly that he must stay 
 where he was ; that his single arm could be of little 
 service ; that his State would need educated men when
 
 ONE OF A NEW GENERATION. 93 
 
 the struggle was over ; that his mother was liable to be 
 left a widow at any moment, and that he should keep 
 steadily at work to fit himself for possible responsibil 
 ities in the future. A year or two passed, and grad 
 ually Maurice recognized the reasonableness of his 
 father's views. Until then, he had taken very little 
 interest in his studies, but instead had indulged freely 
 in aquatic and other sports. But when at last his heart 
 accepted his father's commands, though the desire 
 was still strong to don the Confederate gray, he became 
 studious, and applied himself so closely that his pro 
 gress was rapid. Running through the usual course, 
 he graduated a year after the war. About this time, 
 Colonel Graham went over to England on business, 
 and Maurice's first intention was to accompany him on 
 his return home ; but when his father had disclosed his 
 wishes regarding the future, he was induced to alter the 
 hastily-formed plans. Maurice had chosen to study 
 law, to which his father did not object ; but Colonel 
 Graham felt that his son was still young, and for a year 
 or two more could advantageously continue his studies 
 in Europe. So finally Maurice settled down at a Ger 
 man university, and began to study the language, 
 together with the fundamental branches of law. His 
 application was steady, he remained free from bad 
 habits, and the time was spent profitably. At last the 
 two years were over, and with a joy he could never for 
 get in after life, he stepped aboard an ocean steamer 
 bound for New York. He had undergone a curious 
 development in these years of absence. He had left 
 home as a Southerner, worshipping with boyish enthu 
 siasm everything that pertained to his city and State ; 
 but as he sailed up the bay of our great metropolis, he
 
 94 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 realized that he was an American, and he rejoiced in 
 his nationality. 
 
 When he arrived in Carrollton, and was clasped in 
 his mother's passionate embrace, she hardly knew her 
 boy, such a change had been wrought in his appear 
 ance ; but she forgot the long years of separation, as 
 she looked upon his vigorous manhood and knew him 
 to be thoroughly educated and prepared for the duties 
 of life. She thought him "a splendid young fellow." 
 
 Shortly after returning home, he entered the law 
 office of Mr. Francis Gravoir, with whom he studied 
 for two years, when he passed his examinations and 
 was admitted to the bar. Opening an office for him 
 self, his father's influence threw in his way a little bus 
 iness, which soon grew into a fairly remunerative prac 
 tice. He began to acquire some distinction, and a year 
 back he had gained considerable reputation by his 
 management of a political case which attracted atten 
 tion. Early in the present summer, he and his former 
 teacher had entered into a copartnership, and already 
 the firm of Gravoir & Graham was considered to be 
 one of the strongest in Carrollton. 
 
 Since the memorable meeting off Carrollton harbor, 
 the Gildersleeves had seen Maurice Graham fre 
 quently. He was now a constant visitor at their house 
 in Belleville, and the acquaintance, happily begun 
 under such trying circumstances, was fast ripening 
 into a warm friendship on both sides. It is not sur 
 prising that the family found pleasure in his company, 
 for he was gifted with a natural -yet dignified amiability 
 which was almost contagious and which lent him a 
 personal charm that rarely failed to find acknowledg 
 ment. His manners were not only finely cultivated,
 
 ONE OF A NEW GENERATION. 95 
 
 but were marked by a softness and grace especially 
 pleasing to women, and that often led strangers to ask, 
 " Who is he ? " Always fond of books, Maurice had 
 acquired a variety of information, but in addition he 
 possessed marked ability for his years, his being one 
 of those quick comprehensive minds which require 
 little exertion to master a subject. Educated as he 
 had been, he was fortunately free from that provincial 
 ism so distinctive of past generations. He belonged 
 to a new class of Southern men, just assuming their 
 positions, who knew of past issues only as history, and 
 who experienced keenly the stimulus of youthful am 
 bition to secure for themselves a future and a name. 
 He was, pre-eminently, of the New South. 
 
 Among women, as might be supposed, Maurice was 
 a great favorite, and for a few years after his return 
 from England he was quite devoted to the sex ; but of 
 late, society got little of his time. So far, no face had 
 appeared to attract him particularly, and his family had 
 often wondered when his fastidious nature would meet 
 its mate. Only recently did they suspect how inti 
 mately the beautiful face of Hortense Gildersleeve was 
 becoming woven with his thoughts. Maurice himself 
 was just beginning to feel that he was on dangerous 
 ground, but, so strange is the perversity of human na 
 ture, he shrank from admitting the possibility of his 
 falling in love. He saw in her, as he would tell him 
 self, merely a girl whom he could greatly admire. . She 
 was womanly, she had all that reserve and dignity 
 which so well grace a woman, but her vivacious mind 
 sparkled with an originality that equalled his own and 
 sometimes dazzled him. He had never before met so 
 brilliant a woman near his own age, and yet one to 
 G
 
 96 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 whom society seemed distasteful. That a young 
 woman who was accomplished and beautiful, with the 
 advantages of wealth and position, should like to shine 
 and be appreciated, seemed natural to him ; and at first 
 he could scarcely understand Hortense's indifference 
 to the attentions of men. Already she had, politely it 
 is true, snubbed several with great unconcern ; and the 
 fact that she was gracious to him, while it pleased his 
 vanity, did not affect the contrast she presented to the 
 usual class of women. Maurice had really acquired a 
 certain good-natured contempt for most society misses, 
 regarding them much as he would some gayly plum- 
 aged bird pretty enough, but scarcely worth the trou 
 ble and vexation of ownership for life. Still, no one 
 ever noticed on his part the condescension which such 
 a feeling is apt to engender. He was naturally, and 
 by breeding, enough of a courtier not to fall into that 
 error. Miss Gildersleeve, however, was quite a reve 
 lation to him ; without analyzing his thoughts, he 
 instinctively recognized those gifts of mind and that 
 force of character which naturally placed their pos 
 sessor upon his own level. 
 
 Some men can love only those women who are 
 clinging in their tendencies ; any equality of strength 
 repulses them. Graham's feelings were not of this 
 order. The society of a woman must be companion 
 able in order that it should be especially agreeable to 
 him ; she must not only want sympathy, but she must 
 be sympathetic herself, and be capable of understand 
 ing those things which gave him pleasure ; he must 
 feel the presence of an equal. This it was about Hor- 
 tense that made her so fascinating ; her strength, very 
 quietly manifested and never assuming, compelled him
 
 ONE OF A NEW GENERATION. 97 
 
 to yield her deference, and while he could not wholly 
 understand her a source of allurement in itself, she 
 possessed a capability of entering into his moods, of 
 not only appreciating his thoughts but sometimes of 
 developing them, and all with a naturalness and in 
 terest which made him forget that these are the very 
 qualities that distinguish the most successful flirts. 
 He was already too deeply involved to be able to think 
 of anything except the delight of her society ; but he 
 unconsciously acknowledged her an equal who never 
 forced him to talk of commonplaces to fill up time. 
 Yet she was crowned with the sweetest attractions of 
 sex. Her vivacity charmed him, and her face, in 
 its wondrous play of expression, was a study in which 
 he was beginning to linger. Her beauty he had ac 
 knowledged at their first meeting, and her face was 
 well set off by a tall and gracefully outlined figure, that 
 had much ease of manner. Maurice had a real admi 
 ration for beautiful women ; but beauty alone soon 
 wearied him. Hortense possessed much more than 
 regular features and a shapely figure to attract a man 
 of his nature. He felt when with her a sympathy of 
 thought and a congeniality of spirit that he had never 
 experienced before ; and though he would not listen 
 to the questionings of his own heart, Maurice Graham 
 was getting deeper in love each day. But the awaken 
 ing was soon to come. 
 
 Maurice had never yet spent the night at the Gild- 
 ersleeves, although on several occasions he had been 
 pressed to do so, preferring the accommodation of a 
 boarding-house. This evening, after some delibera 
 tion, he decided to accept Mr. Gildersleeve's invitation ; 
 but on reaching that conclusion he could not refrain
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 from smiling. Hortense had been talking to him about 
 the ghost. In some way, contrary to Mr. Gildersleeve's 
 injunctions, the story had leaked out, but so fragmen- 
 tarily that the family regarded the matter only as 
 laughable, and when -Maurice had once or twice 
 declined to stay over night, Hortense, with mock earn 
 estness, had charged him with fear of the ghost, to his 
 great amusement. 
 
 Contrary to the opinions of the Rev. Mr. Tomkins, 
 and the sage advice he had given the servants, nothing 
 occurred to disturb the peaceful slumbers of the Gild- 
 ersleeve family. On each successive morning, the 
 negroes, as they came to their work, confidently expected 
 to hear of some dreadful disaster happening during 
 the night, "up at de house." But the quiet of early 
 dawn would prevail over the premises when they arrived, 
 and the day would wear on without any unusual devel 
 opment. As is common in such extremes of morbid 
 feeling, their views soon reacted to an opposite tend 
 ency, in which the element of disappointment was con 
 spicuous. The ghost lost much respectability each 
 day, and Pompey began to scoff openly. The cook 
 would not go so far ; " p'r'aps," said she "de ole lady 
 ain't got no spite on Yankees." At all events, by the 
 end of the first two weeks of the Gildersleeves' stay, 
 nothing had happened, and the reputation of the house 
 seemed restored.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. 
 
 MAURICE GRAHAM reached the house of his 
 friends none too soon, the rain beginning to 
 fall as he rode rapidly into the yard. Calling hastily 
 for a servant, he gave the horse to his care, and directly 
 after he was in the comfortable sitting-room, and before 
 the fire. A few minutes later, supper was served ; and 
 near its close Mrs. Gildersleeve remarked : 
 
 " I am so sorry, Mr. Graham, that we have no 
 haunted room to offer you to-night. I suppose you 
 know that the mystery about the house has been 
 explained ? " 
 
 " No, I did not. I thought the tale a good joke on 
 a few credulous people. What is it ? " 
 
 " Now, mother, you will spoil everything," said Hor- 
 tense, in affected displeasure. " I had such plans to 
 test his bravery ! " 
 
 " We had been here two or three weeks," continued 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve, not noticing the interruption, "before 
 we could understand the story. But nothing happened, 
 and the negroes gradually regained their courage. A 
 few nights ago, a wind storm came along just as we 
 were going to bed, and we heard the most fearful 
 noises in the garret. Mr. Gildersleeve went up, but he 
 could discover nothing for some time. Finally he stood 
 close to an open chimney, and what do you think he 
 
 (99)
 
 100 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 found to be the cause ? Why, that enormous big tree 
 alongside of the house ! You know, some of the 
 branches overhang the roof and curve around the 
 chimneys. Well, the wind swayed them to and fro, 
 and their creakings and groanings came through the 
 chimneys, and what with the echoes in these large halls, 
 a very dismal sound was produced." 
 
 " Next morning I had them all sawed off, and the 
 chimneys closed," said her husband. "That put an 
 end to one more ghost story. But it is wonderful to 
 think how scared those negroes were." 
 
 After supper, when they had all returned to the 
 sitting-room, the conversation naturally fell upon the 
 events of the day. Mr. Gildersleeve desired to learn 
 something of the trouble between Major Mixon and 
 his turpentine laborers. 
 
 " I am afraid there will be more trouble between 
 them," said Maurice. "You see, the negroes have been 
 induced to strike for an increase of wages, which 
 Mixon declines to give. Fortunately for him, the busi 
 ness is such just now that he can afford to stop tem 
 porarily. But he is a very determined man, and will 
 never budge one inch from his present position. The 
 negroes, on the other hand, seem to be getting a little 
 excited. They are under the control of one or two 
 unscrupulous men, both white and black. By the way, 
 one of the most reckless of their advisers is the Rev. 
 Tomkins, of this town. Haven't you heard of him ? " 
 
 " No," answered Gildersleeve, in blissful ignorance 
 of where his provisions were going. " Who is he ? " 
 
 " He is the preacher at that colored church on the 
 hill ; and a more cunning and dangerous man there is 
 not in this county. He has not the intelligence of
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. 101 
 
 some of the brighter lights of his party, but he is crafty, 
 and exerts a wonderful influence over the blacks. I 
 would not be surprised if this same fellow is causing 
 all the trouble between Mixon and his men, perhaps 
 through orders from his superiors. At any rate, Mixon 
 thinks so, and he is just pining for a good excuse to 
 lay his hands on that darkey. I am sorry for Brother 
 Tomkins if Mixon once gets a good hold on him." 
 
 " You surely don't mean that there is any danger of 
 violence ? " asked Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 " Indeed, I do," replied Maurice ; " here is the issue, 
 presented not only in our immediate vicinity, but all 
 over the State : There is Mixon, a hot-headed man, 
 with little or no discretion, having a supreme contempt 
 for the negro, and believing himself the victim of 
 wholesale robbery. In politics this negro enjoys 
 supremacy over his former master, and endeavors 
 to dictate business terms to his employer. The negro 
 is ignorant, full of passions, and has an exaggerated 
 notion of his rights. Between the two comes the art 
 ful demagogue. Is there any wonder, then, that the 
 color-line is sharply drawn ? We -must bear in mind 
 that a general election takes place next year, and we 
 can understand why the radicals desire to keep this 
 line distinct. Several difficulties have already occurred 
 in other localities, and it would not surprise me in the 
 least to hear that some of Mixon's property was burned 
 or his stock shot." 
 
 " But is not the law able to restrain these men ? 
 And besides, do you really hold the negro character to 
 be so disposed to evil ? " 
 
 " They are an extremely ignorant set of people, not 
 naturally vicious, with a dull perception of right and
 
 102 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 wrong," answered Maurice. " They believe that as 
 Lincoln and Grant gave them freedom and political 
 supremacy, so also they will sustain them in the prose 
 cution of their present fancied rights. And I know 
 that there are a number of shrewd and unscrupulous 
 men who, for political purposes, devote their whole 
 energies to widening this breach. As for the law, you 
 will see more clearly the longer you stay among us, 
 how inefficient it is, as at present wielded, to restrain 
 those whose votes sustain its executives." 
 
 " It is certainly a sad condition of affairs, and no 
 doubt you are correct in the main ; but I cannot think 
 that all the fault is on the side of the negro." 
 
 " Nor do I maintain that. I frankly admit that if 
 Major Mixon had more discretion and tact, he might 
 avert some of his difficulties. But he is not such a 
 man, and the whole force of his education and early 
 ideas is too great to allow him to reason with his former 
 slaves. In fact, that is the very problem which has 
 now to be solved in the South. All through the for 
 mer slave states are men like Major Mixon, and only 
 a strong popular sentiment can prevent collisions be 
 tween these two elements. Happily, that sentiment is 
 growing every day." 
 
 The servant here entered the sitting-room and said: 
 
 " Mass' Gillersleebe, dere's a culled genelman wot 
 wants fur ter see yer." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "Brudder Tomkins, sah, our preacher." 
 
 " Light the lamps in the parlor, and show him in 
 there ; I have company here." 
 
 Directly after, Mr. Gildersleeve followed the ser 
 vant into the parlor, an adjoining room with folding
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. 103 
 
 doors, which he left partially open. Thus, while the 
 occupants of the two rooms could not see each other, 
 any conversation in the one was distinctly audible in 
 the next. 
 
 Tomkins was already in the parlor when Mr. Gil- 
 dersleeve entered. He was arrayed in bright checked 
 pantaloons, yellow brogans, frock coat greatly the 
 worse for wear and much too long for the reverend 
 brother, hanging limp below his knees. A crumpled 
 collar, showing here and there the presence of starch, 
 surmounted the coat and rose up to the chin, being set 
 off in front by a large black tie. In one hand he bore 
 a tall and battered " stove-pipe " hat. Brother Tom- 
 kins, however, seemed much satisfied with his appear 
 ance, for he came forward with sleek complacency. 
 
 " You want to see me ? " inquired Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 "Yes, sah," answered Tomkins, bowing pompously. 
 " I'se been opprised ob de fac', dat under de guidance 
 ob de blessed Lord, dat yer hab 'stablished yerse'f in 
 dis yar State as a citizen." Tomkins paused a mo 
 ment as if in meditation. " So de idea did enter my 
 mind," he continued, " dat I would come an' conwerse 
 wid yer on de sitivation ob our onhappy country, since 
 I heard dat yer was a genelman ob onusual concern 
 ment." 
 
 "Well, I am engaged this evening. Still, if you 
 have anything important to say, I will spare you a 
 little time. Take a seat." 
 
 For a moment Tomkins was astounded. To sit 
 down in the white folks' house ! in their very pres 
 ence ! It was something he had never heard of before. 
 But he was a shrewd negro, and the reflection quickly 
 passed through his mind, "dese people is Yankees,
 
 104 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 friens to de nigger," and he took the chair with his 
 self-esteem considerably increased. Drawing from his 
 pocket a large red kerchief, he wiped his face vigor 
 ously and proceeded gravely : 
 
 " Dis country, sah, is bery onhappy conditioned. 
 De culled folks aint hab de liberty an' reposure ob dere 
 bodies dats 'clared by de fifteenth commandment." 
 
 " Fifteenth what ? " interrupted Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 "Commandment, sah," answered the darkey. 
 
 "Amendment, you mean." 
 
 " Yes, sah, dat'a it, all de same," replied Tomkins, 
 without the least confusion. 
 
 " How are you abused ? " 
 
 " It's all 'long ob de buckra, sah, de white folks, 
 you know. Dey's plannin' all de time ter mek de 
 culled mens vote fur dem, an* dey mek us work fur 
 dem, an' den dey won't pay what de work is wuth. 
 Dey wants de culled people ter work fur nuthin', an' 
 I'se advise all my friens dat dey musn't surrender dere 
 liberties ter de enemy, but pray ter de Lord Jesus fur 
 help. I t'ought dat p'raps yer might come out an' gib 
 some advise ter de culled folks, seein' dat you'se a 
 'publikan, an' mebbe," he added, winking his eye 
 knowingly, "de culled folks won't furgit dere frien 
 when de next 'lection come." 
 
 " I am not a politician, and I could not make any 
 public appearance, if that is what you wish. I can 
 only advise you people to arrange your affairs with 
 your employers and go to work. If you have griev 
 ances, lay them before the proper authorities ; your 
 party controls this State, and should be able to give 
 you redress. I am only a private citizen, not a politi- 
 'cian ; furthermore, I am hardly yet a citizen. If you
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. 105 
 
 have any special individual grievance, and wish my 
 advice, I will give it cheerfully ; but beyond that I do 
 not see how I can help you." 
 
 " But I'se informed," returned Tomkins, " dat 
 you'se a man ob means, an' dat you'se from de coun 
 try ob Mass Linkum. Now, if yer come out an' tell 
 de culled folks ter stan' fast, an' not let Mass' Mixon 
 turn 'em back ter slabery agin, yer inflooence will help 
 us a good sight, an' Mass Mixon will see dat he's on 
 de weak side. An' den yer kin show de members ob 
 de 'publikin party dat you'se fur dem, an' dese niggers 
 'round yar won't furgit it." 
 
 " I have already told you that I am not in politics, 
 and you must excuse me. That is all I have to say. 
 If you want individual advice, as I said before, I will 
 give it if I can ; but if you want political guidance 
 you must seek it from your leaders." 
 
 " Take care, sah ! " exclaimed Tomkins, extending 
 his forefinger in a rather threatening manner. The 
 politeness with which his proposal had been refused, 
 rendered him bold, ajid he was determined that he 
 should not be misunderstood. " Take care, sah ! " he 
 repeated ; " a genelman in yer position kin go ter de 
 legislature ef he meks de right friens, an' ef yer help 
 me now I kin help yer in de party." 
 
 This time Mr. Gildersleeve was annoyed by the fel 
 low's pertinacity and demeanor. He showed no sign of 
 it, however, but rising from his seat he looked at his 
 watch and remarked : 
 
 " I must decline your proposition. I have a further 
 engagement to-night, and can not spare you any more 
 of my time. Good-evening." 
 
 Tomkins rose and looked astonished ; but he did
 
 106 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 not move to go, and seemed irresolute. He knew of 
 Mr. Gildersleeve as a rich man, a Yankee how much 
 did not that imply to a man like Tomkins ! and 
 bright visions had floated through his mind of what 
 the local leaders would owe him if he was the first to 
 introduce such a proselyte into the party. And then, 
 too, it would be fine for him if he should become the 
 right-hand man of Mr. Gildersleeve. He was not will 
 ing to yield so quickly, but was about to speak again 
 when Mr. Gildersleeve pulled the bell-rope ; and the 
 servant, who had stationed himself outside to take in 
 the conversation, appeared after a respectable delay. 
 
 " Show Mr. Tomkins the door," said Mr. Gilder 
 sleeve ; and the preacher, seeing that further persever 
 ance was useless, picked up his hat and was gone. 
 
 When Mr. Gildersleeve returned to the sitting-room, 
 he found his guest and family almost choking with sup 
 pressed laughter ; every word of the conversation had 
 been plainly audible to them. 
 
 "So you are going to the legislature, father?" 
 laughed Hortense. "What a wise Solon ! They'll 
 send you to Congress next, if you are not careful." 
 
 " Did you ever hear anything like the impudence of 
 that fellow ? " returned her father. " Why, he actually 
 offered me a political bribe ! " 
 
 Maurice smiled, but said nothing. 
 
 Ten or fifteen minutes after Tomkins left, the ser 
 vant entered, bearing the evening mail for Mr. Gilder 
 sleeve. It consisted of a letter and several newspa 
 pers. Excusing himself, and remarking, " Here's a let 
 ter for me from Ernest, Hortense," he broke the seal 
 and began reading. Suddenly he looked up.
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. ]Q7 
 
 " What in the world can be the matter with Ernest ?" 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 The remark was abrupt, and its tone conveyed some 
 alarm. In an instant Hortense was beside her father's 
 chair, with her hand on his shoulder and a look of anx 
 iety on her face. 
 
 " He is not sick, father ? " asked she. 
 
 " Oh, pshaw ! no, Hortense ! Sit down, and don't 
 get alarmed about the fellow. You two make more 
 fuss over each other than any pair of lovers I ever saw. 
 I don't see why you don't marry. If I had played the 
 part of cruel father, you would have been married 
 long ago." 
 
 " Father ! " she repeated twice, in a horrified 
 tone. 
 
 " Oh, well, you young people will be foolish." 
 
 "Please stop talking about that, and tell me of 
 Ernest. What is the matter with him ? " 
 
 " Why, just this : he wants to borrow a large sum 
 of money. He merely says that a miscalculation 
 of his resources has forced him to make the request." 
 
 " And you will let him have it? " 
 
 " Certainly I will ; but after all the offers I have made 
 the boy, I feel a little surprised that a man of his cau 
 tious habits should get himself so much embarrassed. 
 I hope he is not repeating what happened last year. I 
 will write and telegraph this evening." 
 
 Involuntarily, while her father was bantering 
 her, Hortense had glanced at Maurice, and she saw 
 enough in his countenance to frighten her. What 
 before had been suspicion was now certainty. In his 
 changed expression, in the anxious and worried look
 
 108 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 from his eyes, she read his secret with a woman's wit ; 
 and as she read, a sharp pain smote her. 
 
 But lightly remarking, " You are real good, father," 
 she drew her hand caressingly across his brow ; then 
 she made some slight excuse to leave the room. 
 
 Once in the hall, she passed rapidly to the front 
 door and out on the piazza. Rain was falling and the 
 wind was boisterous, but Hortense felt almost feverish 
 as she leaned her cheek against the cold pillar. " I want 
 to think ! " she said to herself, with the tears gathering 
 in her eyes. " Poor fellow ! how sorry I feel for him ! 
 He is so good, so noble ! Oh, why did it happen, for 
 it could never, never be ! oh, never ! " she cried almost 
 hysterically, burying her face in her hands ; and then 
 this girl, so haughty and reserved before the world, 
 sobbed convulsively. A minute passed, while her whole 
 frame seemed shaken with emotion. Gradually the 
 struggle subsided, and she grew quieter. For a moment 
 she even smiled slightly through her tears, with the 
 natural vanity of a woman at her own keen perception, 
 as she thought : "How stupid father is, with all his 
 wisdom ! He thinks Maurice Graham comes here to 
 talk politics with him. Oh, were it only so ! " and the 
 girl almost broke down again. " After all, which one 
 is the best ? " she mused. " But no, I must not 
 falter now. I must do my duty. I could not tell 
 him as he wished, and I mus,t spare him the pain and 
 mortification." Resting her hand on her brow for 
 a few seconds, she seemed to think. " I have it now," 
 she mused ; " I see what I must do, and do it this very 
 evening, before he makes it too late !" As if satisfied 
 with her decision she busied herself in drying her tears.
 
 SOME DELUSIONS EXPLODED. 109 
 
 Returning to the hallway, she ran rapidly up to her 
 room, looked in her glass, then turned to a wash-basin 
 and bathed those blue eyes until not a vestige of the late 
 tears remained. Then she went leisurely down-stairs, 
 and entered the sitting-room as composedly as if noth 
 ing had happened.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MISS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. 
 
 WHEN Hortense returned to the sitting-room, 
 her mother had retired, excusing herself to 
 her guest, with the remark, " I am an invalid, you 
 know, Mr. Graham, and must keep early hours." Her 
 father was writing his telegram, and Maurice sat at a 
 table with a newspaper. 
 
 "Mr. Graham," said Hortense, " come into the par 
 lor and play that waltz I took such a fancy to when 
 you were here last." 
 
 Maurice possessed quite a good ear for music, and 
 performed fairly well both upon the piano and the flute. 
 He also sang a tenor, but his voice had not been highly 
 cultivated. Perhaps a home education for all his 
 family were musical might have stimulated him to a 
 more complete development of his natural talent. He 
 had, however, so true an ear as almost to make up for 
 the deficiency of study, at least as far as his own pleas 
 ure and that of most amateurs was concerned. Hor- 
 tense's voice was a contralto of much sweetness and 
 force, and it had been well-trained. Both were fond 
 of music, and at almost every one of his visits Maurice 
 and she had sung together. 
 
 " Certainly I will," he answered, following her into 
 the parlor. "But don't you want the lamps lit?" 
 They had been extinguished after Tomkins' departure, 
 
 (110)
 
 AffSS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. \\\ 
 
 and the room was now illuminated only by the light 
 that streamed in from the sitting-room. 
 
 " It is scarcely necessary. We can enjoy the music 
 better in the dim light," and she opened the piano. " Of 
 course it depends somewhat on the kind, however ; 
 sometimes it does seem that a bright light is at vari 
 ance with the soul of the music." 
 
 He sat down and lightly ran his hands over the keys. 
 She stood by and seemed to listen as he played, but 
 the notes fell like a jingle on her ears. The piece was 
 a new one, lately published, that was rapidly becoming 
 popular. She distinctly heard the servant go into 
 the sitting-room and tell her father that the carriage 
 was ready ; then, a minute or two later, she answered, 
 "All right, father," as he cried out to her, " I'll be back 
 in half an hour, Hortense." 
 
 Maurice finished the piece ; she asked him to play 
 another, adding, " Tnat waltz is a little gem ; no won 
 der people like it." As he began the second piece, her 
 father went out of the front door. Hortense had 
 known that her father was going out ; she had heard 
 him give the order for the carriage, and she knew that 
 Maurice and she would be left alone in the sitting- 
 room. But with a rare delicacy, perhaps as much for 
 herself as for him, she did not want to see his face 
 when she spoke. For this reason she had led him into 
 the darkened parlor, and now that her father was gone 
 she felt free to tell her secret. 
 
 Again Maurice finished his piece. " Now, Miss 
 Hortense," he said, " it is your turn to play ; or will 
 you sing ?" 
 
 She was leaning against the side of the piano, and 
 for a moment did not answer him. Then she said: 
 H
 
 112 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Oh, no, let's stop with the music for awhile. I want 
 to tell you something something that will surprise you, 
 I dare say." 
 
 " How very serious you have become ! What can 
 it be ? " 
 
 " It is simply that I want to repose a great confi 
 dence in you. I do so because I regard you as a good 
 friend, and I believe you to be a man of honor. Can 
 I?" 
 
 For an instant, Maurice felt a thrill of joy pass 
 through his entire frame, tingling each fibre with strange 
 and pleasurable sensations. To hear this woman, 
 of all women in the world, say that she believed 
 him a man of honor to hear her say anything good 
 of him gave a satisfaction that sent the blood bound 
 ing along in his veins almost like intoxication. But he 
 answered : 
 
 4< Most assuredly you can ; and any confidence you 
 may place in me will be jealously guarded. I feel that 
 you have paid me a high compliment." 
 
 " No more than you deserve. I want to tell you 
 what even my father and mother do not know : I am 
 engaged to be married." 
 
 Maurice was astounded. He knew that she was a 
 woman who wished to be thought quite free from any 
 touch of sentimentalism. But very slight observation had 
 shown him that she possessed an affectionate heart 
 under her air of somewhat cold reserve. He regarded her 
 rather as one difficult to be impressed by his sex, and 
 who had not as yet met the man to do it. She might 
 or might not fall in love easily ; but if she did, he 
 thought her nature such that the wound would be per 
 manent.' To have this announcement, unexpected and
 
 MISS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. H3 
 
 terribly unwelcome, made so abruptly, startled him. 
 He half rose from his seat on the piano-stool, and 
 then, as he quickly remembered the concern she had 
 lately exhibited at the reading of her father's letter, he 
 slowly sank back and uttered the word " Ernest." 
 
 How glad was she that they were in that darkened 
 parlor ! How glad to be spared seeing his face at that 
 moment ! It had been told now ; she had faced the 
 inevitable unflinchingly, and she felt relieved ; but she 
 had a deep pity for this strong man beside her, as he 
 asked, ' Is it Ernest ?" in a voice that was only a trifle 
 unsteady, but enough for her quick ear to detect its full 
 meaning. What a volume that little unsteadiness of 
 tone told her, and how joyfully she might have listened 
 to it under other circumstances ! But forcing back the 
 sigh that had nearly escaped her, she answered almost 
 flippantly : 
 
 " Did you hear father say that ? How terribly sharp 
 you are, Mr. Lawyer ! Well, I suppose I may as well 
 tell you his name ; it is Ernest Trundon, and he lives 
 in Bos-ton," giving a sing-song intonation to her last 
 words. 
 
 " You have known him a long time ? " inquired Mau 
 rice, his voice firm now. 
 
 " Yes, ever since babyhood. Do you think it strange 
 that I keep the affair a secret from my parents ? It is 
 only because of a foolish desire on my part not to be 
 looked upon as a love-sick maiden. My father is 
 anxious for the match. He has the greatest con 
 fidence in the man of my choice. So you see, 
 I am not committing any unpardonable sin in with 
 holding the knowledge from him for a little while. My 
 father has always said that he would never induce me
 
 114 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 to marry a man whom I did not love, and in return I 
 have always resolved that I would never marry one of 
 whom he disapproved." 
 
 " And do you love this Ernest ? " 
 
 " Why should I engage myself to him if I did not ? 
 I had my free will about the matter ; 1 was not forced 
 to make the engagement. You may know I would not 
 enter rashly into such a contract, when I tell you how 
 sacred I hold an engagement. I believe it all but mar 
 riage ; and so long as my betrothed observes the con 
 dition on which it is placed, I will be as true as steel 
 to him." 
 
 " Then you have hedged him round with condi 
 tions?" 
 
 " Yes, with one ; but I am not exacting ; it is very 
 easy of fulfillment. I have told you this secret because 
 father teased me so much a while ago. I value your 
 friendship very much, very much indeed," she re 
 peated ; " and I was afraid that you might think me 
 fickle, after what father said. I could not allow you 
 to entertain such an opinion of me for a moment. So 
 you see how it is that on the spur of the moment, I 
 have reposed this confidence in you." 
 
 " You can rest satisfied that it will never be be 
 trayed. I feel that Mr. Trundon must be a superior 
 man to have won a woman like you, and he ought to 
 be proud of his good fortune." 
 
 " Oh, because I have, as you think, complimented 
 you by this confidence, you must not feel yourself 
 bound to make a return," and she laughed lightly. 
 He was too much absorbed in his own feelings to no 
 tice that the laugh was somewhat forced. Then she 
 took her seat at the piano, and played several pieces
 
 MISS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. 115 
 
 for him, until she heard the carriage drive up to the 
 house. Now that her secret had been told, she did not 
 want to prolong this interview any more than was 
 necessary ; so, with a sigh of relief, she hastily invited 
 him to go out with her and meet her father. 
 
 To have watched Hortense after they returned to 
 the sitting-room, no one would have dreamed that her 
 heart ached with a poignant sorrow, as she almost 
 saucily flung jest and repartee at her father and his 
 guest. She seldom appeared more animated. She 
 accused the former of political aspirations, of having 
 come South to be sent to Congress ; she chided Mau 
 rice on his supposed fear of the ghost, and uncon 
 sciously fascinated him still more when she provoked 
 him into laughter. Maurice, with natural pride, felt 
 the necessity of appearing unconcerned, and he bent 
 his strong will to enter into her humor. But as he 
 listened to her talk, so gay and sparkling, he thought 
 how happy she must be in her love ; how impossible, 
 even if right, it would be to supplant her chosen one ; 
 and a feeling of real loneliness crept over him. Al 
 ready he had begun faintly to suspect the girl's pur 
 pose in confiding her secret to him, and his whole 
 soul rebelled against baring his heart any more. So he 
 nerved himself to meet the necessity, and gave mirth 
 for mirth, jest for jest, until the time came for them to 
 retire for the night. 
 
 When at last Hortense was in her room, she went 
 to a table, and taking from her desk a letter written 
 that morning, she began adding a postscript. She 
 wrote steadily for about a quarter of an hour, and then 
 carefully re-read what she had written. She seemed to
 
 116 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 lay special stress on one portion, for she re-read it sev 
 eral times. At last she seemed satisfied and exclaimed: 
 
 " Now I think that will do. I am sure I have done 
 all I can to impress upon Ernest my fixed determina 
 tion, and if trouble ever does come, he can not con 
 scientiously blame me. Let me see ; I will run over it 
 again ; " and she read : 
 
 " Remember, Ernest dear, your promise, and that 
 our engagement holds only as long as it is faithfully 
 kept, in proof of which 1 rely on your word of honor, 
 a sufficient security to me from the man I am to marry. 
 Remember, also, how frankly I have always spoken 
 to you in regard to my feelings for you, and that 
 I have always said that if you were to break your 
 promise, I would consider our engagement ended. 
 The recollection of the difficulties you were involved in 
 last year, and my intimate acquaintance with your dis 
 position and your one weakness, make me sometimes 
 apprehensive ; and you know enough of my character 
 to believe me when I say, as I have repeatedly done, 
 that were your promises broken, I would consider my 
 self released. Now, dear, don't think me harsh again. 
 I have promised to marry you, and I will be true to 
 you as long as you are true to me. It is only because 
 of my earnest desire to fulfill that promise that I write 
 you thus ; and though distance separates us, you know 
 me too well to think that any other face, any other 
 voice, could ever tempt me from the fealty I owe to ' 
 you, my betrothed." 
 
 Then she unrobed, and flinging herself upon the 
 bed, the long pent-up feelings of her warm nature gave 
 way. The girl cried herself to sleep with the sim 
 plicity of a child. She had made one fatal mistake in
 
 MISS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. 117 
 
 life, one that she already began to repent bitterly, and 
 the iron sank deep in her heart. But the world would 
 never be the wiser, and he least of all. 
 
 On reaching his room, Maurice divested himself of 
 his coat and shoes ; like most men, he first sought bod 
 ily comfort. Then lighting a cigar, he threw himself 
 into an easy chair, and perched his feet upon another. 
 He tried to think ; but the ideas flowed almost too fast 
 for thought. Now he confessed that he loved Hor- 
 tense Gildersleeve with all the power of his nature ; 
 now that she was so far removed from him that he had 
 no right to look upon her save as the affianced of 
 another, he bowed his head and admitted himself a 
 fool in his former perversity. But had he realized the 
 truth before this evening, no good would have resulted. 
 He would still have fluttered around the candle, auda 
 ciously dreaming like the silly moth that all its radiance 
 might be for him, until at last the end would have been 
 the same as now ; he had dropped wingless, and his 
 former rambles in the heaven of the past only served 
 to blacken his present and the far-off future. 
 
 His thoughts flew back to the time when they had 
 first met on the wrecked steamship " Gate City," out 
 side of Carrollton bar, and he smiled slightly as he 
 remembered the estimate he had hastily formed of her 
 that morning. He recollected how her beauty had been 
 impressed upon him as they were sailing up the harbor, 
 and then as he had grown to know her better, how deep 
 in his heart was her face engraved. It was too bitter 
 to bear, to think that she belonged to another ; and as. 
 his thoughts came crowding upon him, he felt borne 
 down by the great agony. Impatiently throwing away 
 his cigar, he almost viciously kicked his chair, and
 
 118 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 walked to a window, stirred by emotion and passionate 
 regret as he had never been before. He looked out, 
 and as he viewed the peaceful and beautiful night, a 
 calm gradually came over his troubled spirit. With 
 one of those changes peculiar to the versatile Southern 
 climate, the night was now as fair as any maiden. The 
 rain had ceased and the moon was shining brightly ; 
 and as its rays came here and there through the trees, 
 or silvered the dense foliage, he felt that he had never 
 before experienced so gratefully the restful influence 
 of a lovely night. He was a true child of nature, 
 polished and educated though he was, with all the pas 
 sions, all the hopes and fears, with all the capabilities 
 for joy or sorrow, that such a constitution gives ; and 
 as he looked out he seemed to be drawn closer to the 
 great mother of all things, and he felt chastened and 
 subdued. 
 
 After a while, having lit another cigar, he began to 
 walk his room. If he could only banish her from his 
 thoughts ! 'Twas as idle to attempt it as to turn the 
 flowing tide ; and he resigned himself to his revery. 
 He recalled how, one Sunday afternoon, he had gone 
 with Hortense to church, and after the service they 
 took a walk through the town. Passing along one of 
 the side streets, they came upon a little negro baby 
 scantily clad, which lay sprawling helplessly on the 
 grass and crying as if its heart would break. Hortense 
 was instantly beside the child, repulsive and dirty as it 
 was, and she coaxed it into a wondering quiet, while 
 Maurice went to seek its mother. After the baby had 
 been safely delivered to the neglectful parent, who 
 received it with open-mouthed astonishment from " de 
 Yankee lady wot libs in de hanted house," Hortense
 
 MISS GILDERSLEEVE MAKES A CONFESSION. 119 
 
 merely threw her shawl over her arm with a slight con 
 temptuous motion, and remarked : " Poor little crea 
 ture ! I do not suppose its mother ever washes it. 
 How people can be so cruel, passes my comprehen 
 sion." For the time, all the cynicism and haughtiness 
 of the young heiress were gone, and only the kindli 
 ness of the tender-hearted woman shone like a noble 
 gem in a rich setting. Maurice said nothing, but the 
 incident made a deep impression upon him. He thought 
 how an aristocratic dame of the old Southern regime 
 would view such an act. " Turning nurse for a nigger 
 baby ! " But Maurice was of the New South, and the 
 suffering of a human being was all the same to him, 
 whether its skin was white or black ; and he honored 
 Hortense for her charity. 
 
 How vividly every incident happening during their 
 short acquaintance came back to him ! Then he 
 thought of the affectionate care she displayed towards 
 her mother, and the tenderness with which she treated 
 her father. It was not her beauty alone, nor her vivac 
 ity, when one knew her well ; nor was it her intelli 
 gence and decision of character ; nor the honesty and 
 womanly softness of her nature, mingled with a rare 
 simplicity and an absolute freedom from affectation ; 
 it was not any one of these that fascinated him. He had 
 often noted some one or more of these qualities in 
 equally high-bred women ; but it was the combination 
 of them all which made her appear to him as the most 
 perfect, the most glorious of women.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 
 
 MAURICE looked at his watch ; it was nearly 
 one o'clock. He knew that he could not 
 sleep, and he had no desire to go 10 bed. He felt 
 restless, and weary of his own thoughts. He wished 
 that morning would come, and that he was back in his 
 office at Carrollton. He went to the window again, 
 and raised the sash ; all was still and quiet save for the 
 noise of a few insects, and the beauty of the night still 
 overhung the scene. He was about to turn away, when 
 a sudden sound broke upon his ear. Hark ! what was 
 it? The town bell rang violently. It was only used 
 in rare cases of fire ; or, as once or twice before, near 
 election time, when the bell gave to the small popula 
 tion the alarm of some trouble occurring between the 
 whites and the blacks. Certainly, something must have 
 happened, and of a serious nature too, or its tones 
 would never startle the quiet village at this time of 
 night. 
 
 Hastily slipping on his coat and shoes, and joyfully 
 welcoming any excitement, Maurice went out on the 
 piazza which bordered his room on the front, and thence 
 down the staircase which communicated with the 
 ground floor. He then made his way to the street 
 or, rather, to the road, for there were properly no 
 streets in the town, and walked rapidly towards the 
 
 (120)
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 121 
 
 town hall. Presently he met two young men, also 
 attracted by the alarm ; but they could give him no 
 information except to say : " 'Spose some niggers are 
 up to their tricks." They continued on together, and 
 soon reached the hall, a small frame building slightly 
 elevated above the ground. As they approached, the 
 bell ceased to ring, and a man appeared on the porch, 
 whom Maurice recognized as Mike Colton, a neighbor 
 of Mixon. 
 
 " Hallo, Mike, what's the matter ?" he asked. 
 
 " The very devil himself," returned the individual 
 addressed. " Why didn't you bring your horse ? " 
 
 " What for ? Tell me what is the matter ! " 
 
 " Why, those niggers down at Mixon's place have 
 burnt up his still and hundreds of barrels of rosin and 
 turpentine, all the stock he had on hand. That is, it 
 was all burning when I left. Mixon shot one nigger, 
 and knocked another down ; and you can just bet 
 those niggers are in for a rampage. If they want it, we 
 can oblige 'em ! Mixon sent me up here to raise the 
 boys in case the niggers got worse. If the boys agree, 
 we want to catch the nigger who started the fire and 
 hang him to the first tree." 
 
 " Do you know who did it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; both the Major and I saw him ; it was 
 that nigger Nebuchadnezzar ; 'Nezzar, you know, we 
 called him for short. A d -d sassy coon, even in 
 slavery times ! " 
 
 " Whom has Mixon killed ? " 
 
 " He hasn't killed anybody, but he shot 'Nezzar ; 
 and the rascal got away after all. It ain't been now 
 more'n a month since my bran-new corn-crib was 
 burnt. The black devils ! They first stole out what
 
 122 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 they wanted, and then they set fire to the crib ; all the 
 corn I had not much, but a heap for a poor man in 
 these hard times. I tracked 'em to the swamp where 
 they toted the corn, and nary a one of those niggers 
 has ever been arrested. A white man ain't got no 
 show in this State any longer." 
 
 " Yes, it does seem that there is no redress," answered 
 Maurice, gloomily. 
 
 " And here, scarce on to six weeks ago, old Jack Bur- 
 son caught two niggers rolling off a bale of his cotton 
 to the woods ; and last week those niggers were dis 
 charged from Carrollton jail to come back here and 
 sass Burson. Every time they see the old man they 
 
 call him ' rebbil-debbil ! ' By ! this sort of thing 
 
 has just got to stop ! There ain't no law or justice in 
 this State, 'cept we make it for ourselves. It's all no 
 use to run down the Kuklux ; you can just bet your 
 eyes there was no stealing, no setting houses afire, in 
 Kuklux times, and a little taste of it now wouldn't 
 do us no harm." 
 
 At heart, Maurice was inclined to agree with the 
 speaker. Naturally, he was attached to his State, and 
 all her necessities, all the interests of her people, 
 appealed loudly to the strongest instincts of his nature. 
 To hear of these repeated outrages, to know that his 
 friends and acquaintances were being loaded with 
 insult and injury wh'icji could not be punished, sent 
 the hot blood tingling to his face. From his profes 
 sional outlook he knew the futility of seeking to punish 
 a negro criminal where a political reason existed for 
 his escape ; even should a conviction happily be gained, 
 the pardoning power was ready to nullify its decree.
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 123 
 
 The only alternatives seemed to be either to submit 
 and endure all, or else resort to force. 
 
 But would this latter course be just? His resent 
 ment was not so much against the negro whom he 
 rather pitied as a poor ignorant creature, mis-led by 
 the advisers that circumstances had given him, and only 
 obeying the instincts generated by a past bondage as 
 it was against the government which permitted these 
 things to be. The question at issue was one that he 
 had long considered, and his former conclusion was 
 not to be overturned by an emergency. He knew his 
 people well, and he realized the situation thoroughly ; 
 he deplored the facts and sympathized with the suffer 
 ers ; but his strong and clear judgment condemned as 
 unjust, as injudicious, the stern course which many 
 would unhesitatingly have pursued to the bitter end. 
 He saw that such a course was worse than useless ; 
 that it only too surely reacted upon the very persons 
 and communities for whose protection it might be 
 instituted. Could the desperate remedy be placed in 
 the hands of a few dispassionate men, and its applica 
 tion be controlled absolutely by their judgment, Mau 
 rice Graham was still young enough to believe that 
 some good might result, and a salutary warning be 
 given those heartless villains who wielded the power of 
 the State. But this was a fixed impossibility. If the 
 experience of the past ten years had taught any lesson, 
 it was unmistakably that a resort to force, in the pres 
 ent complexion of Southern society, was a resource too 
 dangerous for good. Once begun, no one could tell 
 where its action would stop. The war had long been 
 over ; but the revolution was still surely in progress, 
 and the tortures of these long weary years had ren-
 
 124 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 dered the social material of the South too sensitive, too 
 inflammable, to be handled carelessly. The whites 
 were being aroused from their stupor, and they _ felt 
 keenly the mortification and injustice of their position. 
 Particularly was this the case with those whose educa 
 tion and prejudices were of the old slavery days. That 
 his people were the natural masters of Southland, Mau 
 rice Graham knew well ; that they would eventually 
 regain their mastery, he also firmly believed, and he 
 could see that the revolution would work on until that 
 end had been reached. The war had settled the ques 
 tion of the amendments to the Constitution ; they were 
 now fixed and inviolable, guarded by a whole nation. 
 But a weighty problem still remained : the final settle 
 ment of Southern politics and society. 
 
 There had been no end to the methods by which the 
 political philosophers of the country sought to solve 
 these Southern difficulties, nor were many wanting 
 who rose up in the distance and proclaimed themselves, 
 each in turn, the oracle of the hour. But so far, all 
 speculation had been vain, all theories false ; and the 
 situation remained unchanged. The answer had to 
 come from the Southern people themselves ; they had 
 to work out their own future ; and however attained, 
 it could only consist, as surely as water runs downward, 
 in the possession of power by those to whom it natur 
 ally belonged. The struggle was coming, and coming 
 quickly. Maurice Graham was a close observer, and 
 he read well the signs of the times. But he had repeat 
 edly and anxiously asked himself, what direction would 
 the current of popular action take ? Would it be a 
 renewal of the lawless scenes succeeding the war, and 
 of the Reconstruction period ? If so, then the State
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 125 
 
 would be remanded to a worse degradation than now 
 existed. He saw the temptation, and he feared the 
 result. Reared amidst the late misfortunes of the 
 people, he belonged to that new class of Southern men 
 then just beginning to form and to exert the influence 
 of their vigorous ideas ; and thus Maurice Graham 
 believed, in the light of past years, that order and jus 
 tice could never be accomplished by means of lawless 
 ness. 
 
 To-night he saw the temptation presented in its 
 most fascinating guise. Here were men, stimulated by 
 powerful motives those of injured property- holders 
 to obtain the redress which the executives of the State 
 would not afford. Should these men resort to force, 
 what would be the inevitable result ? The crime might 
 be punished, but the race antagonism would be all the 
 more bitter. The negroes, bound together by their 
 intensely clannish feelings, would scarcely be intimi 
 dated, where their majority was so great, by what must 
 appear to them as half-hearted measures. No illegal 
 force could thoroughly overawe the negro, unless the very 
 cruelty of its thoroughness convinced him that resist 
 ance was useless. Just men would not undertake 
 such a course, nor would it be permitted by the national 
 government. Attempts to secure justice by force, as 
 long as the negro was under his present political guid 
 ance, would necessarily appear to him as reprisals, and 
 stimulate him to continued aggression. The only ulti 
 mate result would be failure of the measures, and a still 
 more ruinous enkindling of the passions of the igno 
 rant and impressionable negro. 
 
 In an appeal to Judge Lynch, the reckless and un 
 scrupulous men of every community always come to the
 
 126 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 front. There is an unhallowed atmosphere around such 
 a cause which seems to give them their position and influ 
 ence ; good men instinctively shrink from the respons 
 ibility of extreme measures. Unfortunately, there are 
 as many men of the former type in the South as in any 
 other section ; the only difference being that in the 
 one place, they generally are deeply imbued with the 
 worst and basest of race prejudices. Long after the 
 essential issue could be gained by unlawful force if, 
 indeed, that were possible a just punishment meted 
 out for some terrible crime, or a torturing grievance 
 removed, long after the moderate and conservative 
 men had retired, satisfied in conscience by the abso 
 lute necessity for action, the other desperate class, 
 who always lead at such a time, would impose upon 
 the credulous, the ignorant, and those who accept the 
 thoughts of others as their own, and would continue 
 their work for the very power and authority it con 
 ferred. 
 
 At least, such had been the invariable history of all 
 organizations formed in the South for such purposes 
 since the war ; and Maurice believed that the same 
 conditions still existed, capable of being easily so intensi 
 fied as to render void any attempts by the whites to 
 secure power or justice by force. In far-off western 
 States, where the scanty population was composed of 
 desperadoes and honest citizens, Judge Lynch might 
 be powerful for good ; the conflict was simply and 
 definitely between the good and the bad. But in the 
 South, the situation was very different. Here, two 
 races were arrayed against each other in a struggle for 
 mastery. The one had the intelligence and the prop 
 erty ; the other, the majority, the innings, and govern-
 
 A MIDNIGHT ALARM. 127 
 
 mental support. The lynching of a negro criminal 
 under these circumstances was made to appear, not as 
 an issue between the good and the bad elements of 
 society, but as an example of rebellious insubordina 
 tion and hatred of the black man. The manipulators 
 of the negro vote seized greedily such opportunities 
 to antagonize the two races, and had used them effect 
 ively. 
 
 J
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY. 
 
 MIKE COLTON had told Maurice Graham that 
 he was ringing the bell in order to assemble the 
 Belleville Rifle Club, or at least those of the members 
 who lived in town ; and that as soon as the men had 
 collected, they would proceed to Major Mixon's plan 
 tation, to afford him and his property protection, should 
 it be needed, and if possible to catch and punish the 
 criminal. Major Mixon, as the recognized military 
 leader of the neighborhood, was the Captain of this 
 company. So Maurice hastily retraced his steps to 
 the Gildersleeve residence, determined to reach Mixon 
 and talk with him before the club arrived ; and, besides, 
 it gave him a relief, which was almost a pleasure, to 
 have a new subject to occupy his mind. Walking 
 briskly, he soon came to the house, and going directly 
 to the stable he with some difficulty aroused the coach 
 man, who slept in an upper room. Mixon's horse, 
 which Maurice had ridden up from the plantation that 
 afternoon, was brought out and saddled by the sleepy 
 Pompey, who wondered much at this unusual disturb 
 ance. After throwing the man a piece of money, and 
 leaving with him a message to explain his absence to 
 the family in case he did not return, Maurice leaped 
 into the saddle and cantered off at full speed down 
 the road leading to Mixon's plantation. 
 
 (128)
 
 MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY. 129 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour or less would bring him 
 to the plantation at the pace he was traveling ; but 
 long before he arrived he could see the illumination of 
 the sky when occasionally the growth of trees around 
 him was not too dense. He knew then that his 
 informant had not exaggerated the extent of the 
 calamity, and that probably Mixon's whole establish 
 ment would be destroyed. As a member of the legal 
 firm which transacted his business, Maurice was 
 acquainted with Mixon's affairs, and he feared that the 
 loss would be one of great severity ; perhaps it would 
 completely prostrate the man ; and a great bitterness 
 rose up in his heart that such things should be. 
 
 Still urging his horse on, he entered the avenue at 
 the same rapid pace, and as he drew nearer the foliage 
 gradually became brightened by the flames. He did 
 not g9 to the house, but turned off from the avenue on 
 a road leading to the turpentine works, which were 
 about a quarter of a mile from Mixon's dwelling, and 
 near the river. He could now see the tongues of fire 
 as they shot through the trees, producing a horribly 
 grotesque imagery on the surrounding gloom, and the 
 hissing and crackling of the inflammable material grew 
 noisier with every step of his horse. 
 
 When he suddenly emerged from the trees, the blaz 
 ing pile stood full before him ; and a little to one side 
 was a group, composed of Mixon, his wife, and their 
 three small children, who were watching the work of 
 destruction. Along the edge of the timber were also 
 a number of negroes, idly looking on. Quickly dis 
 mounting, Maurice tied his horse to a sapling and 
 approached Mixon. 
 
 " Major, I am sorry to see this."
 
 130 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Is that you ? My God, Maurice, I'm a ruined 
 man ! It wouldn't be so bad but for those children." 
 He pointed to two little boys who were watching the 
 dancing flames with childish glee, entirely ignorant of 
 the fact that it was their patrimony, the remains of a 
 once grand estate, that was being swept away. The 
 eldest child, a girl of thirteen, stood near her father. 
 
 While Major Mixon was speaking, his wife had come 
 close to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. " Don't 
 feel so badly about it, Louis," she said. " It's hard to 
 bear, of course ; but you are not ruined. There's my 
 house in Carrollton ; you can raise money on that, and 
 start the business again. And, oh, Louis, I beg you, 
 for the sake of your children, not to do any thing 
 rash," she entreated, turning her anxious face up to his 
 gloomy countenance. 
 
 Mixon leaned down and kissed his wife, who barely 
 reached his beard, saying : 
 
 " You are just the best little woman, Carrie, to com 
 fort a man ! But don't worry ; I'm not going to kill 
 anybody to-night." 
 
 Maurice knew that Mixon was devotedly fond of 
 his wife, and he was glad that her influence was near 
 the impetuous man at this time. He had known Mrs. 
 Mixon ever since he was a boy, and he regarded her as 
 a charming lady, who was far too good for her bear of 
 a husband. She was a distant relative of the Gravoir 
 family, and had always lived in Carrollton until she 
 married Mixon. Her face, which, as he could see by 
 the bright light playing upon it, was tear-stained, had 
 been very pretty, and would still have been so but for 
 the cares that had left their impress there.
 
 MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY. 131 
 
 " How did this trouble begin, Major ? " asked 
 Maurice. 
 
 " Why, you remember, when we went out and read 
 that contract to the niggers, how sassy that fellow 
 'Nezzar was, and how I picked up a barrel stave and 
 threatened to knock him down unless he could be more 
 polite ? I suppose that was the beginning of the whole 
 trouble. You saw that the hands did not take to the 
 terms I offered, and they said they wanted to talk it 
 over. I suppose they wanted to hear what that rascal 
 Tomkins had to say. After that, you left ; of course 
 you'd rather go up to town and talk to that Yankee gal 
 and her pa than stay down here at my beastly old 
 place." 
 
 " Major, you are unjust in what you say ! Mr. Gil- 
 dersleeve is an excellent gentleman, and I have as high 
 a regard for his daughter as for my own sister." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; I didn't mean any offense, Maur 
 ice ; but I can't help the old feeling at a time like this. 
 Whenever I think of all I've lost, and know that the 
 Yankees have caused it, I hate the whole tribe ! By the 
 eternal, I do ! But I meant* no disrespect for your 
 friends." 
 
 " I never supposed you did. But go on and tell me 
 how this affair happened." 
 
 "After you left, all the boys went home, except Col- 
 ton, who was to stay over night with me. Those fel 
 lows had been on hand since early in the morning, 
 when they first heard of the strike and the ugly look 
 of the niggers. My wife went up to bed about nine 
 o'clock, and Colton and I took a hand at poker. We 
 played along until nigh eleven, and then we concluded 
 to go down to the still and see if things were all right
 
 132 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 for the night. We walked along, talking about the 
 strike, until we got within fifty yards of the still, when 
 Colton caught me by the arm and said : ' Hist, Major ! 
 there's somebody yonder ; ' and sure enough, I could 
 see a light as it flickered out from one side of the still, 
 right among the rosin barrels. We pulled out our 
 revolvers and walked on, each second the light growing 
 bigger, until I couldn't stand it any longer. I ran 
 quickly up, and as I turned round the corner of the 
 still, who should I see but that infernal nigger, 'Nezzar, 
 standing right before me ! Caught him in the very 
 act, by ! I could see him as plain as daylight ! " 
 
 " Yes, but what was he doing ? " Maurice asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "What was he doing? Why, standing there and 
 looking at his damnable work ! He had started two 
 barrels of rosin burning, and he was tickled to death, 
 the scoundrel ! Yes, sir, I actually heard him laugh 
 ing ! I stopped and watched him, I reckon, for five 
 seconds. You might have knocked me down, I was so 
 taken aback. Just then he saw me, and, good Lord ! 
 how that nigger jumped for the woods ! He hadn't 
 gone more than ten paces, when crack! went my revol 
 ver, and down he tumbled, yelling like a mad bull. I 
 thought the fellow safe, but as I threw away the pistol 
 and turned in to pull out the blazing barrels, up he 
 jumped, and, shot as he was, that nigger scooted. 
 Mike fired, but did not touch him. It was either 
 nigger or still, and I chose the still ; but all we did 
 could not stop the blaze. Some turpentine got caught, 
 and then we had to stop. There was nothing more to 
 do but to roll off as many barrels as we could, and it 
 was while we were dragging them out that a lot of
 
 MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY. 133 
 
 niggers came up. I told them to turn in and help, 
 and, would you believe it, they refused ! Yes, sir ! and 
 I heard one of them say, 'Sarve him right' ; so I just 
 turned round and knocked him down. Another coon 
 stepped up and wanted to lay me out, but Mike cov 
 ered him with his revolver and ordered the whole 
 crowd back. Afterwards, when we had saved all we 
 could, I sent him to town for the boys ; but I made 
 him get this for me from the house before he went," 
 and Mixon glanced significantly at the gleaming Win 
 chester that lay on his left arm. 
 
 " And how much have you saved ? " 
 
 " There's a lot of barrels yonder, but it's mighty 
 little out of all of the stock I had on hand. If it 
 hadn't been for this strike, I would have been loading 
 the flat-boats for shipment to Carrollton this week. 
 Stock is generally low at this season, but mine had ac 
 cumulated more than usual, owing to the dull market. 
 I did hope to get most of the stuff off in a few days, 
 but now I have lost a big amount of cash and the busi 
 ness is all gone to the devil ! " 
 
 " Your loss is mostly in stock, Major. It will not 
 take a great deal of money to start you again, and 
 Mrs. Mixon has suggested a plan. You can retrieve 
 this bad luck." 
 
 " Only to have it happen again ! What security 
 has a man for life or property in this State except his 
 own arm ? It is all good enough for you city people, 
 who are comparatively safe, but we out here in the 
 
 country are differently situated, and, by ! if we 
 
 don't protect ourselves nobody else will ! " 
 
 " Well, what do you propose to do ? " 
 
 " See here." Mixon drew Maurice to one side and
 
 134 THE SHADOW OF THE IV A R. 
 
 lowered his voice to a whisper. " Don't let on to 
 Carrie ; she is so anxious for fear of my getting into 
 more trouble, she'd only cry her eyes out. I intend 
 to catch that nigger 'Nezzar if it takes me ten years , 
 and when I do, I'll pile some rosin barrels around him 
 and set them afire. That's what I'll do, so sure as my 
 name is Mixon." 
 
 Maurice knew differently, so he said nothing. He 
 did not doubt that the negro would pay heavily for his 
 crime, if caught ; for Mixon could be most unrelenting 
 in what he believed the necessary punishment of a 
 negro criminal. Nor, in fact, did Maurice think 'Nez- 
 zar's life worth a penny, if he remained in that county, 
 with such a resolute nemesis on his trail. Mixon 
 was passionate and revengeful, but at heart he was not 
 a bad man, nor a cruel one ; and though he might 
 have been sincere in his threat, yet when he cooled off 
 its barbarity would probably shock him as much as 
 anybody. 
 
 At that moment they heard the sound of horses' 
 hoofs, moving rapidly. The Major turned to his wife 
 and told her that she had better take the children up 
 to the house. Mrs. Mixon gathered her little ones 
 around her, and was about to comply. Then she hesi 
 tated, and going close to her husband, she looked up 
 again into his face and said, half-crying as she 
 spoke : 
 
 " Oh, Louis, promise me, please, that you won't let 
 those men do any violence to-night. I know what 
 they are ! They'll do anything you ask them to. It 
 nearly breaks my heart to think you might get yourself 
 into more trouble. Surely we have enough now." 
 
 " My dear little wife, don't be afraid. I am only
 
 MAJOR MIXON TELLS HIS STORY. 135 
 
 going to arrest the nigger, and take him to jail. 
 Haven't I a right to do that ? " 
 
 " And is that all you will do ? " 
 
 "Yes, that's all, dear. Now kiss me and run on." 
 He soothed her in his rough way, but only as a 
 loving man would ; and after some coaxing and reas 
 surances, she departed satisfied. In truth, however, 
 Mixon had deceived her regarding his purposes, 
 believing, like many other men, that such things are 
 sometimes necessary for the sake of domestic peace.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 
 
 MRS. MIXON and the children had scarcely gone, 
 when a troop of some twenty mounted men, 
 two abrdast, came dashing down the road. As they 
 passed out from the trees into the open space, the com 
 mand " Halt ! " rang clear upon the night air The 
 horses were immediately checked, another order was 
 given, and there was a little commotion as the men 
 arranged themselves in position. Then the officer in 
 charge rode down the line, and after looking sharply 
 to see that all was right, he turned and saluted Mixon. 
 The latter approached, acknowledged the courtesy, and 
 said a few words to his subordinate, who wheeled and 
 gave the order to dismount. The men were quickly 
 afoot, and busied themselves in securing their animals. 
 Mixon called Colton, and told him in a low tone to go 
 to the stable and bring him his saddle-horse. 
 
 There were present in the troop men of nearly every 
 age and condition of life, from the mere stripling, de 
 lighting in the excitement of this midnight ride, to the 
 gray-haired veteran of the Mexican war, who could ill 
 afford to leave his comfortable bed at such a time. 
 But they were bound together by the law of mutual 
 protection, and each man knew that if he rendered any 
 assistance to Mixon in time of danger, or when his 
 property was threatened, the same would be cheerfully 
 
 (136)
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 137 
 
 returned should it be needed. The organization, of 
 which only about one-half was on duty, was a curious 
 mixture of the military and the social, of the unques 
 tioning obedience of the soldier and the freedom of the 
 deliberative assembly. As long as the men were under 
 command, not one of them would have broken the si 
 lence or manifested the least impatience at the rigid 
 discipline which held him ; for Mixon prided himself 
 on being a perfect martinet. Except for the absence 
 of uniforms, a stranger could easily have imagined 
 that a company of regulars was present ; and it is in 
 the willing observance of these formalities, as well as 
 upon the trials of the battle-field, that the intensely 
 military spirit of the Southerner shows itself. But so 
 soon as the ranks were broken, and the men had dis 
 mounted, the assemblage became one of equals, who 
 pressed around Mixon, anxious to hear particulars, and 
 each volunteering his own ideas and opinions. 
 
 Mixon, however, quickly put another phase on the 
 situation. He had no desire to see valuable time lost 
 in this informal talking. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he cried, raising his voice, " the 
 meeting is called to order." 
 
 Instantly every tongue was hushed, and the men 
 arranged themselves in a more orderly group. A 
 young man with a pencil and note-book took up his 
 position at Mixon's side. This personage had two 
 titles ; he was orderly sergeant of the military organi 
 zation, and secretary of the club. 
 
 " Gentlemen," continued Mixon, " you know what 
 has happened here to-night. You can see for your 
 selves the outrage. Yonder is my property, that is 
 being burnt up almost all I have in the world. The
 
 138 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 scoundrel has beggared me ! How many of us have 
 not lost heavily in this way during the last few years ! 
 Is the thing to go on until we are bankrupt ? What 
 are we going to do about it ? Stand still and submit ? 
 By heaven ! we are not men if we do ! I tell you, 
 something must be done, and done quickly ! A crime 
 like this, that takes the bread from your mouth, calls 
 for blood ! None of you need do anything that you 
 are opposed to ; each man has a chance to speak for 
 himself ; but remember, every one of you, that no 
 man can tell how soon his own roof may be burnt over 
 his head." 
 
 When the Major stopped speaking, one of the men 
 asked him to tell them how the thing happened, and 
 he began relating the story he had told Maurice Graham. 
 The men gave him eager attention, as with hot words 
 he poured out the details of the crime. Maurice 
 stood near and closely watched the proceedings. He 
 was very anxious to know what course their action 
 would take. 
 
 A deep silence ensued, when the Major again stop 
 ped speaking. The men realized that they had to 
 grapple with a desperate question, and they hesitated. 
 Maurice noted this hesitation, and he deemed it one of 
 the signs of the times. Ten years back, probably no 
 man in that assembly would have had the least doubt 
 as to the best course to pursue ; "shoot the nigger on 
 sight," they would have cried But these years of 
 trial and defeat had begun to undermine the self-con 
 fidence of the Southerner ; and now, after repeated 
 failures of the old methods of dealing with the race 
 questions, a slight hesitation, perhaps a dread of con 
 sequences, had entered the minds of some of the peo-
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 139 
 
 pie. But the old feelings were still present ; their 
 growth had been too vigorous to be dead already, and 
 the new were yet scarcely germinating. 
 
 The burning still was flaring up furiously, and the 
 flames cast a lurid brightness over the little knots of 
 men gathered here and there. The surroundings, the 
 dark heavy outlines of the forests around, the group 
 ing of the men and horses, the crackling of timbers 
 and the flight of sparks, the time of night, and the 
 ghostly light of the moon mingled with the glare of 
 the flames, all combined to make the scene one of 
 strange and unusual interest. 
 
 Suddenly a short thick-set man leaped to the front, 
 bearing a double-barrelled gun. " Gentlemen," cried 
 he, excitedly, " why are you all silent ? In God's name, 
 are we to stand still when all we've got is taken away 
 from us ? I, for one, am with Major Mixon ; the nig 
 ger who did this work must be put out of the way, 
 and there's enough men around here to do it ! Some 
 body is constantly losing his property, and the sooner 
 we teach the niggers a lesson the better. Can you 
 expect any protection from the imbecile State govern 
 ment ? Haven't we waited and prayed for years ? and 
 while we're waiting, we are becoming paupers ! Some 
 will preach prudence, and tell us that if we want the 
 negro vote we must treat them kindly. But is this the 
 time to talk of prudence, when you see those flames ? 
 / don't want the vote of a nigger thief or house-burn 
 er ! I say, shoot him or hang him ! They think us a 
 set of poor devils, who can't protect ourselves, and 
 they'll vote our ticket all the quicker when they find 
 out we can. Yes, gentlemen, I mean lynching the 
 shot-gun policy ; here's the remedy for our troubles,"
 
 140 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 and the speaker held high his weapon. " The first 
 thing is to catch the nigger, and then a load of buck 
 shot settles the whole matter. There's no use dilly 
 dallying any longer. I say, shoot every mother's son 
 of them that can't behave himself ! Who's willing ? 
 Step up, boys, and show that you're men! " 
 
 " I'm with you, Major ! " cried a tall, lank individu 
 al, when the speaker had finished. 
 
 " And I, too," cried another, and another, until 
 Mixon was no longer able to contain himself. He 
 became actually boyish in his elation over the prospect 
 of speedy vengeance, and he forgot all about his prom 
 ise to his wife. Throwing his hat into the air, he 
 caught it as it fell, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Hurrah for you, boys ! I did think if I had my 
 old cavalry company, I could clean out this county of 
 niggers in ten days. But you've got the spirit of 
 sixty-one in you still ! Shall we hang the nigger ? " 
 
 A volley of affirmatives came back, and Mixon yelled 
 in reply, " All right, boys ! The sooner the better! 
 To horse ! To horse ! " 
 
 Just here, a sturdy farmer, one of the most prosper 
 ous in the neighborhood, and a man who had come to 
 own land since the war, interrupted the bustle of 
 departure by saying : 
 
 " P'r'aps, Major, Mr. Graham can give us the law 
 on the matter." 
 
 Maurice, who had been throughout a silent specta 
 tor, answered simply : " I can give you no legal advice 
 that will help you. You know the law bearing upon 
 such actions as are proposed, and you can judge for 
 yourselves what had best be done." 
 
 " Hang the law ! " exclaimed Mixon, fiercely, and
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 141 
 
 scowling upon the questioner. " We have no law in 
 this State ; but we'll make some, this very night ! 
 Mount, boys, quick ! We've no time to lose ! " 
 
 Why was it that Maurice Graham, an influential 
 young man, who held views so different from those of 
 the speakers at this midnight meeting, did not throw 
 his voice on the side of law and order ? Because he 
 knew that the effort would be useless, and that it was 
 natural for these men to feel as they did. He could 
 not approve the lynching, yet he hardly knew what 
 else to suggest. He did think, however, that a better 
 plan would be to assemble the negroes and endeavor 
 to make them understand that what was Mixon's loss 
 was equally their own. If the negroes could become 
 a party to the capture of the criminal, if in this way 
 the race antagonism could be removed, then the pun 
 ishment of the man would be salutary. He had no 
 scruples about hanging 'Nezzar, but he knew that such 
 an act under existing circumstances would only embit 
 ter the already intense feelings on both sides. For a 
 few minutes he did really consider the expediency of 
 urging upon Mixon the propriety of interesting the 
 negroes in the capture. Had he been a less clear 
 headed man, he would perhaps have boldly pursued 
 this idea, and thus have lost what influence he did pos 
 sess. He knew that such a moderate course was 
 impracticable here. The existence of a feeling of 
 injury and mortification on the one hand, the clannish- 
 ness and exaggerated notions held by the others of 
 their rights, together with passion and ignorance, 
 formed a current too powerful to be turned by his sin 
 gle arm. So he wisely determined to remain quiet and 
 watch events. But he noticed that although no voice
 
 142 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 had been raised in opposition to the proposed lynch 
 ing, the feeling among the men was not altogether 
 unanimous. There were some present who had not 
 joined very loudly in the acclamation when Mixon 
 called for approval of his views ; some who had been 
 taught by the past that they might yet raise a storm 
 that would not be quelled until they had suffered 
 heavily. But they were too few to oppose the impet 
 uous Mixon and his followers when reason and justice 
 seemed to side with the latter, and popular feeling was 
 not yet strong enough to give this new class of men 
 the necessary courage to face the imputation that 
 would be cast upon their motives for prudence. 
 
 The troop rode rapidly to the negro quarters, a 
 short distance off. These consisted of about thirty odd 
 huts and log cabins arranged in two parallel rows with 
 a broad street down the middle. In the rear of each 
 hut was a small piece of land allotted to the resident. 
 As he approached the quarters, Mixon detailed some 
 six or eight men, who took up positions around the 
 premises as a sort of picket - guard ; and Maurice 
 Graham could not refrain from asking himself, as he 
 saw all this done, what good would result ? To almost 
 a certainty, 'Nezzar would not be found in the quar 
 ters, unless he was too badly wounded for further 
 flight. If he was caught at all, it would most proba 
 bly be in the heart of a swamp. Why, then, the need of 
 all this military show and parade ? Simply because it 
 gave Mixon and a few others the semblance of what 
 they most desired : an opportunity to impress upon the 
 negroes the belief that they still held authority. 
 
 Lights were flaring from the cabins as the whites 
 rode up. The negroes were gathered in groups in the
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 143 
 
 street, and an ominous silence prevailed. The men 
 dismounted, and a few took charge of the horses. 
 Then Mixon divided the rest into four squads, and 
 ordered them to begin at the different corners of the 
 quarter and search every house until they were satis 
 fied that 'Nezzar was not hidden away. The negro 
 men stood by, scowling, with sullen faces. Had they 
 dared oppose them, these white men would never have 
 been permitted to enter their dwellings. But they 
 were partially taken by surprise, and the presence of 
 so many mounted and well armed men was enough to 
 intimidate them for the time. The whites speedily set 
 about their work, and met with no opposition ; but 
 Maurice knew that an accidental pistol-shot, a blow 
 given by some hot-headed man, might precipitate a 
 bloody race fight at any moment. The negro, proba 
 bly because of his former slavery, is easily intimidated 
 by what appears to him as a superior force ; so also, if 
 he thinks he possesses an advantage, he is as bold as a 
 lion. But if driven by sheer necessity, he will fight 
 against odds, and then his physical strength and pas 
 sions render him a formidable antagonist. 
 
 But if the negro men remained quiet and showed 
 their feelings only in their faces and by their demeanor, 
 the women acted very differently. They danced 
 around like furies, half dressed, cursing the white men 
 both loud and deep, and calling upon their lords to 
 " shoot de white dogs ! " They twirled their petticoats 
 those who had them on, ran in and out of the huts, 
 screaming and reviling, shook their fists in the faces of 
 their enemies, and in their impotent rage did every 
 thing but come to actual blows. In some of the cabins, 
 as Maurice listened, he could almost imagine pande- 
 K
 
 144 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 monium let loose ; and he thought that for profanity 
 these women could challenge the frequenters of Billings 
 gate. The troopers took no notice of them ; they had 
 been too long accustomed to such displays of temper 
 by the women, and their fury scarcely caused a smile 
 ot amusement. With the addition of the squalling of 
 numerous babies, which was soon added to the horri 
 ble din, the scene was not one to be willingly witnessed 
 a second time, and Maurice was tempted to leave in 
 disgust. But as he momentarily expected a fight to 
 begin, he resolved to stay and see the affair out. Had 
 only a half-dozen whites been present, bloodshed would 
 have been inevitable ; but the negroes knew what 
 manner of man Mixon was, and with his present force 
 around him they dared not provoke a resort to the 
 shot-gun. 
 
 One by one, the different squads returned and 
 reported failure in the search. As the last report was 
 made, day was breaking. 
 
 "Fall in!" cried Mixon, and the men assumed 
 their positions. " We have failed here, boys ; of coarse 
 'Nezzar is in a swamp, but we'll find him if he is alive, 
 and our work here has not been for nothing. We've 
 taught those niggers a useful lesson, one they needed 
 badly. Forward trot ! " and the troop sped away to 
 Mixon's house, where his bewildered little wife had to 
 find something for these hungry men to eat. But she 
 felt rewarded when he said : 
 
 " Don't you see, Carrie, I've kept my promise ? No 
 one has been hurt, so don't cry any more." 
 
 Maurice returned his horse to Mixon's stable, and 
 despite the latter's solicitation for him to remain, 
 pleading business as an excuse he bade the Major
 
 A CONFERENCE AND A SEARCH. 145 
 
 good-bye and set off for the cross-roads station to meet 
 the early morning train. He had been through so 
 many strange and unexpected scenes in the last twelve 
 hours, that he felt somewhat dazed. But the walk, and 
 the sharp morning air, laden with the resinous odor of 
 the pine, soon refreshed him, and he thought anxiously 
 of what fruit the night's work would bear in the future. 
 True, the negroes had made no resistance to Mixon's 
 search ; but now the grudge was deeper than ever. 
 Opportunity alone was needed to bring into action the 
 worst passions of human nature ; and Maurice knew 
 well enough that if Mixon ever caught the negro 
 'Nezzar, a terrible tragedy would be enacted in that 
 county. Then his own affairs passed in review before 
 him, and as he remembered the conversation he had 
 had with Hortense Gildersleeve, the future seemed very 
 drear and gloomy. 
 
 After a short walk, he arrived at the railroad track, 
 where he had not long to wait. He was obliged to 
 flag the train as it came up, the place not being a regu 
 lar station. Soon after, he was in Carrollton. He went 
 directly home and got his breakfast. Then he sought 
 his office, where his first duty was to write and mail a 
 letter to Mr. Gildersleeve, explaining his unceremon 
 ious departure, and relating enough of the circum 
 stances of the night to excuse his absence in the morn 
 ing at the house of his host. That done, he turned to 
 his other duties of the day.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " A POLITICAL BOSS." 
 
 ALL the inmates of the Gildersleeve household, 
 as well as Maurice Graham, had been aroused by 
 the ringing of the town bell. Mr. Gildersleeve, having 
 heard his guest leave the house, remained awake some 
 time, to inquire the cause of the disturbance when 
 Maurice came back. But after awhile the bell ceased 
 to ring, and Maurice not returning, he fell asleep 
 again. 
 
 Next morning, soon after the family had appeared 
 in the sitting-room, the coachman entered and deliv 
 ered Maurice's message, much to their surprise. 
 
 " What was the matter last night ? " inquired Gilder 
 sleeve. 
 
 " I dun no, sah, fur sartin, but I heerd airly dis 
 mornin' dat dere was a big fire down on Major Mix- 
 on's plantation, an' dat de Major was killin' all de nig 
 gers on de place fur de pure lub ob spitin' a nigger. 
 Yer ain't hear tell, boss, how Mass Mixon treats his 
 niggers, is yer ? He's de wickedest man in dis yar 
 State ! Brudder Tomkins say de debbil will tek' um 
 some day, sure's a fac'!" 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve could gain no further information 
 from the man, and he was naturally anxious to know 
 more about the night's disturbance. After breakfast, 
 the usual morning paper came from Carrollton, and it 
 
 (146)
 
 "A POLITICAL BOSS." 147 
 
 contained a short statement to the effect that the 
 negroes on Major Mixon's plantation had inaugurated 
 a strike, and that the feeling among them towards their 
 employer was not the most cordial. During the day 
 he made some inquiries, but such different versions of 
 the affair were given him that he was considerably per 
 plexed. He knew that serious trouble a big fire and 
 some shooting had occurred, but he could get 
 very few details which were not contradicted by the 
 next that he heard. He spoke to several black men 
 who were evidently excited over the matter, and their 
 account differed considerably from that given by the 
 one or two white men of whom he inquired. 
 
 In the evening, Mr. Gildersleeve received Maurice 
 Graham's note of explanation and excuses, which he 
 read with much interest. There came also by the same 
 mail a letter from Francis Gravoir, stating that he had 
 prepared all the papers pertaining to an application for 
 their charter ; and as the legislature was to meet in a 
 few days, it was advisable that Mr. Gildersleeve should 
 have an early conference with his attorney, so that the 
 matter might be entrusted to a representative without 
 loss of time. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Gildersleeve took the train for 
 Carrollton, and arriving there went at once to the office 
 of Gravoir and Graham. The senior member of the 
 firm was occupied when he entered, but Maurice 
 received him, and in response to Mr. Gildersleeve's 
 inquiries, proceeded to give an account of what had 
 happened on Mixon's plantation. When he had fin 
 ished his narration the Northerner looked grave. 
 
 " These difficulties," said he, in his slow, business 
 like way, " suggest serious doubt as to the advisability
 
 148 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 of my enterprise. There seems to be a very deep feel 
 ing of antagonism between the white and black por 
 tions of the population. No capitalist cares to invest 
 in a community where the unsettled condition of labor 
 is a constant menace to his investment. Major Mix- 
 on's calamity may be partly due to his own fault, as 
 you say ; but the very fact that such troubles can occur, 
 together with the difficulty of punishing a negro crim 
 inal, makes me hesitate about pushing things." 
 
 " But it would be easy to manage better than Mixon 
 does," answered Maurice ; adding, with a laugh, 
 " should not the fact that you are a Northern man a 
 Yankee, according to the commonly accepted opinion 
 of local politics protect your interest completely ? " 
 
 " Only until some difference occurred between the 
 capitalist and the laborer," returned Gildersleeve, pur 
 posely ignoring the young man's real meaning. " I 
 prefer strong law." 
 
 " Certainly that is the best protection, and well, if 
 you side with the Democrats in politics, the negroes 
 will consider you as one of us. So perhaps it won't do 
 to rely too much on your nativity." 
 
 " What about insurance rates on a factory located 
 on Mixon's land ? Could they be obtained ? " 
 
 " Yes, but doubtless you will regard them as very 
 exorbitant." 
 
 " The fact that a charter has been obtained does not 
 prevent the abandonment of the scheme afterwards. 
 We will procure this charter, but I must think over the 
 whole matter more thoroughly." 
 
 Mr. Gravoir here entered the room, and the discus 
 sion was continued. Mr. Gildersleeve's doubts were 
 frankly admitted, but both the Southerners seemed to
 
 "A POLITICAL BOSS." 149 
 
 think that some great change would take place in poli 
 tics at no distant day, which would render investment 
 safer. Gildersleeve, however, adhered to his first res 
 olution, to procure the charter of the Pioneer Milling 
 Company, since, should he desire to carry out his pro 
 ject, the delay would be irremediable for another year. 
 Afterwards, he could study events and decide at his 
 leisure. 
 
 " Here are the papers," said Mr. Gravoir, produc 
 ing a bulky envelope. " We will now call on Mr. Mike 
 Sharpe, the most influential legislative representative 
 from this county. I don't know how you manage such 
 business up North, but I would not be surprised if our 
 methods should prove a novelty to you. Of course 
 you know that the passage of this bill will cost some 
 thing." 
 
 "Yes, an inconsiderable sum for expenses." 
 
 " No, I mean a good round sum say five hundred 
 dollars to the representative who manages the busi 
 ness. They always expect it, and it is wise to pay a 
 moderate sum if your interests require attention." 
 
 " You don't mean that a representative will demand 
 a bribe for introducing a bill ? " 
 
 " I see you are surprised. You are a Northerner, 
 prejudiced in favor of our government. I will let you 
 interview this politician, and then you can judge for 
 yourself. Come on." 
 
 The two gentlemen proceeded to pay 'their visit to 
 Sharpe, whose office was in one of the public buildings 
 not far off. The Hon. Michael Sharpe was, in a cer 
 tain sense, quite a remarkable man ; at least the career 
 through which he had reached his present position in 
 life was interesting. With nothing but his own natural
 
 150 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 talents to depend on, he had in the course of ten years 
 or less become a prominent personage in the politics 
 of the once exclusive Carrollton County, and his influ 
 ence as a leader was also powerful throughout the 
 State. This eminence had not been gained without 
 much effort and intrigue ; for even in his own party, 
 occasionally assisted by a fusion element among the 
 whites, strong combinations had been made to break 
 his grasp on office. But so extensive was his influence 
 over the black vote in the county, and so energetic 
 and shrewd was he as a political organizer, that he 
 easily defeated his enemies and compelled them to sue 
 humbly for his favor. He was now the prominent 
 figure of a clique of Radical officials in the county, and 
 in reality the master of its present politics. No one 
 ever knew where the man had come from, or anything 
 about 'his antecedents, until, during one of the local 
 rebellions against his rule, a diligent search was insti 
 tuted concerning his past history ; and while most of 
 the details of his life were obscure, enough informa 
 tion had been obtained to damn the man in the eyes 
 of everybody except the ignorant negroes. The crimi 
 nal records of one of our largest cities showed him to 
 have been convicted of swindling while quite a youth, 
 and at the beginning of the war he had just served out 
 a short term in an eastern penitentiary. He enlisted 
 in an infantry regiment, but a few months of active 
 service seemed to have gratified his military ardor. 
 He deserted, to appear next as a sutler in the train of 
 Sherman's army ; and the close of the war found him 
 in Carrollton County, with some funds and booty in 
 his possession. He opened a small country store in 
 one of the villages on the coast, where he dealt princi-
 
 "A POLITICAL BOSS." 151 
 
 pally with negroes, but was soon making a fair living. 
 Very few persons had the means to enter upon such 
 trade at the time, and Sharpe had in his locality almost 
 a monopoly in the exchange of cheap merchandise and 
 vile whisky for country produce and game. 
 
 When the negro vote began to be organized, Sharpe 
 took an active interest in the work, and his influence 
 might have been efficient for much good had he so 
 chosen. He had already acquired great power over 
 the negroes in his neighborhood, and his keen eye 
 saw dazzling possibilities in the future. He lived, 
 dined, and caroused with negroes, for all of which he 
 incurred the supreme contempt of the whites. He 
 formed societies among the blacks, he advised and 
 directed them, he delivered inflammatory speeches 
 against their former masters, and very soon his efforts 
 were rewafded by his election to a minor office. His 
 influence steadily extended, until it had encompassed 
 the whole of Carrollton County. At the present time 
 he was apparently only a representative, but in fact 
 the incumbents of all the offices in the county were his 
 creatures, and Sharpe had his own reasons for desiring 
 a seat in the General Assembly. Perhaps the judiciary 
 was the only power in the county which he did not 
 control. The man had certainly developed wonderful 
 political ability, and he seemed to appreciate thoroughly 
 the negro character under the changed order of things. 
 He was keen-witted, had a vulgar humor that tickled 
 the blacks amazingly, and had managed to acquire 
 enough education to entitle him to the respect of his 
 compeers throughout the state. The whites hated 
 him cordially, and the blacks reverenced him as their 
 faithful friend. This year he was suggested as the
 
 152 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 next Congressman from his district on the Republican 
 ticket. 
 
 After a short walk, Mr. Gravoir and Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve reached Sharpe's office, and found him com 
 plaisant and ready to talk of business. He was a 
 rather small man, very neat and fashionable in his 
 dress, and without anything striking in his appearance 
 except the wide-awake expression which his features 
 constantly wore. Mr. Gildersleeve was introduced to 
 him as a Northern man, lately come South, and de 
 sirous of establishing a cotton factory. Sharpe 
 expressed great gratification at hearing the news, and 
 at once offered his services. Mr. Gildersleeve's plans, 
 and the scope and powers of the projected corpora 
 tion, were clearly set forth, and the necessity for a 
 charter explained. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Gildersleeve," asked Sharpe, " with 
 whom shall I deal in this matter, you or your at 
 torney ? " 
 
 " Why, with us, of course. We came together for 
 that purpose." 
 
 " Suppose you leave Mr. Gravoir to settle with me 
 about this charter." 
 
 " Why can not the matter be attended to now ? We 
 will leave you these papers ; that is all, I believe." 
 
 Sharpe made no reply for a few moments, but 
 tugged at his small sandy moustache as if in reflection. 
 Then he rose, and leading the way to a small private 
 room, said: 
 
 " Let me see you in here for a minute, Mr. Gilder 
 sleeve. Mr.. Gravoir will excuse us." 
 
 The latter nodded assent, and seemed somewhat 
 amused. Gildersleeve followed Sharpe, and as soon
 
 "A POLITICAL BOSS." 153 
 
 as he entered the room the door was closed behind 
 him. Sharpe drew up chairs and began the conversa 
 tion. 
 
 "As I told you already, Mr. Gildersleeve, I am 
 heartily glad to hear of your intention to manufacture 
 in the South, and I shall be proud to be the agent who 
 procures your charter. I shall give the matter my per 
 sonal attention, and there will be no difficulty. I sup 
 pose you know, however, that there is some expense 
 attending the passage of such a bill." 
 
 " Yes, a dollar or so for a certified and engrossed 
 copy of the charter." 
 
 When Sharpe showed a desire to deal with only one 
 person, and asked for this private interview, Gilder- 
 sleeve remembered what the lawyer had said about the 
 necessity of feeing a representative. So when the pol 
 itician spoke of expense, he was all attention. They 
 were two shrewd heads well matched. 
 
 " There is no law imposing a fee for the benefit of 
 the State treasury," continued the capitalist, " nor has 
 Mr. Gravoir informed me of any expense worth con 
 sideration." 
 
 " That is true," replied Sharpe, " but when bills of 
 this character are introduced, the boys expect to be 
 paid for the trouble of voting for them. If I was not 
 prepared to hand them their little pocket-money, as 
 they term it, I might fail to pass the bill, you know. 
 You see, Mr. Gildersleeve, the State is so poor it can 
 not reward us properly for our trouble in coming down 
 here to keep the ' Southern Rebs ' in order. It will 
 cost you three thousand dollars to get this bill through, 
 one-half down and the balance when the bill is passed. 
 Each of our county members in the House must be
 
 154 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 paid something. Then I will have to remunerate my 
 colleague in the Senate, and of course my own time is 
 valuable." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve had already risen from his seat. 
 He looked Sharpe full in the eyes, and his lips worked 
 curiously as he listened. 
 
 " I will not pay it ! " he answered, curtly. Then, 
 his indignation having overcome him, he continued, 
 with a warmth he seldom exhibited : " This is an out 
 rageous swindle ! I wonder you have the effrontery 
 to speak to me thus ! " 
 
 "You may call my terms by whatever name you 
 please," returned Sharpe, not in the least ruffled. 
 " One thing is certain : you will never get your char 
 ter unless the money is paid." 
 
 " I will not become a partner to such an iniquitous 
 transaction ! " answered Gildersleeve, with increasing 
 heat, " not even if I have to abandon the whole thing. 
 But I will see if we can't find a representative who 
 doesn't expect to be paid twice for performing his 
 duty." 
 
 "You may find one," retorted Sharpe, " but the bill 
 will never become a law unless you plank down the 
 money. You will see I have the power to prevent the 
 passage of any bill I choose." 
 
 " I decline your terms, and I give you fair warning 
 that this whole transaction will be laid before the 
 public. I am a Republican, and have always been one, 
 but I recognize no affiliation, political or otherwise, 
 with men like yourself. I shall expose this swindle in 
 the leading Republican papers. If the rest of your 
 party is no better than yourself, you have worn your 
 cloak of martyrdom long enough."
 
 POLITICAL BOSS." 155 
 
 Sharpe smiled complacently at this outburst. " You 
 can write what you please," said he ; adding imperti 
 nently, " my word is as good as yours." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve turned to leave, and meeting Mr. 
 Gravoir in the next room, signaled to him to follow. 
 The two were soon on the street, and the lawyer 
 was immediately made acquainted with Sharpe's 
 demand. 
 
 " I had expected something of the kind, as I told 
 you," said Gravoir ; " but I did not think the sum 
 would be so great. Sharpe evidently regards you as 
 a rich Yankee who can afford to be fleeced." 
 
 " But don't you take the thing rather coolly ? I 
 can't find words strong enough to express my indigna 
 tion ! We are not accustomed to such brazen extor 
 tion in Massachusetts." 
 
 " If you had lived under this diabolical government 
 as long as we have, you would not become outraged 
 over so trivial a matter ; trivial, I mean, in comparison 
 with what we have endured. At first I was deeply 
 shocked, but so many stupendous frauds have come to 
 light in quick succession, that I have, doubtless, lost 
 the keenness of my sensibilities. A small matter like 
 this ceases to surprise me." 
 
 " God help the country that is cursed by such a 
 government, if that man is a fair sample of your 
 rulers ! " 
 
 " He is no worse than the majority, and a grade 
 better than some." 
 
 " Your partner, Graham, lately gave me a history 
 of the Radical government in this State, and the tale 
 was so replete with fraud and crime that I could scarcely
 
 156 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 believe it to be free from prejudice. But my experience 
 to-day has been startling ! Well, the Northern public 
 shall hear of this outrage." 
 
 " What do you intend to do ? " . 
 
 " I shall write out a detailed account of this ras 
 cality and send it to ' The Stalwart Republican.'" 
 
 " They will never publish it ; or if they do, it will 
 be accompanied by statements utterly discrediting its 
 truth." 
 
 " They would not treat me so. Ah ! there's Colonel 
 Graham," and he beckoned to that gentleman, who, 
 perceiving the two, crossed the street and joined them. 
 Mr. Gildersleeve again related the substance of his in 
 terview with Sharpe ; but Colonel Graham seemed no 
 more surprised than Gravoir had been, except at the 
 amount demanded. 
 
 " Are there no other members whom we can ap 
 proach ? " asked Gildersleeve. 
 
 "Plenty of members," answered Colonel Graham, 
 " but they would be powerless if Sharpe opposed 
 the bill ; and besides, they all have their market 
 price." 
 
 " There's a man in the next county, a negro, of 
 almost equal influence with Sharpe," said Gravoir. 
 " We may try him, but I am nearly certain he will 
 require payment also. His name is Phelps the Hon 
 orable George Washington Phelps ; and if you ever 
 have occasion to write to him, don't abridge his name 
 or omit the title ; he is very proud of both." 
 
 " But why not give the bill to a Democrat at once ? " 
 asked Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 " For this reason," replied Colonel Graham; " our
 
 "A POLITICAL BOSS:' 157 
 
 corporation is to have a large capital large at least for 
 this section. In these latter days our rulers have suc 
 ceeded so well in squandering all that the State pos 
 sessed, that there is nothing more to steal. Our credit 
 is gone, and they can't issue new bonds, for there's no 
 market. The taxes, though burdensome, fail to satisfy 
 their demands. Hence, when a bill representing so 
 much money is brought forward, they swoop down and 
 make the incorporators pay heavily. Our object 
 in obtaining the services of an influential Republican 
 is to avoid inquiry. Every bill introduced by a Dem 
 ocrat is closely scrutinized, and then it is a question 
 between lobbying or paying heavily, and endless delay; 
 whereas an influential Radical makes your interest his 
 own, if he is paid well." 
 
 " I will write to Phelps," said Mr. Gravoir ; " if he 
 refuses us, we can discuss some new measure." 
 
 The gentlemen then separated, Mr. Gildersleeve 
 pondering much over this unexpected obstacle. He 
 began to see Southern politics in a new light, and his 
 old ideas had been rudely shocked. That evening he 
 wrote a letter, couched in respectful terms, detailing 
 the day's transaction. This letter he mailed to the 
 editor of "The Stalwart Republican," giving his name 
 and address, and facts sufficient to establish the author's 
 respectability. Day after day he closely watched the 
 columns of the paper ; but the letter never appeared. 
 Instead, horrible stories of crime and race collisions, 
 in which the white man was always the evil-doer, rilled 
 its pages. He saw numerous letters denunciatory of 
 the South's unrelenting hatred for the North, and tell 
 ing of the rough treatment both blacks and Northern
 
 158 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 men received at the hands of Southerners. He had 
 once believed this trash to be the truth ; but as he 
 read it now in his new experience, he felt, not without 
 some soul-sickness, that he had learned another useful 
 lesson in worldly wisdom.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE BECOMES MORE DISGUSTED. 
 
 IT was with considerable surprise that Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve read in the principal Carrollton newspapers 
 an account of the disturbance on Major Mixon's plan 
 tation. It was not that the facts were perverted, for 
 they were identical with those reported to him by Mau 
 rice Graham ; but how different their coloring ! Ac 
 cording to the paper's description, Mixon was a mild- 
 mannered citizen, who had suffered grievous wrong, 
 and who was bent only upon justice in endeavoring to 
 capture the criminal ; not a man full of passion and 
 rage, seeking desperate revenge, and utterly regardless 
 of his methods and of the rights of others in its pur 
 suit. Nor did the negro get any credit for his igno 
 rance and credulity ; he appeared, rather, as an incor 
 rigible savage whose presence was a curse to the land. 
 But the occasion gave ample opportunity for an out 
 burst of righteous indignation against the imbecile 
 State government, and on that head the editor fairly 
 luxuriated in the abundance of material at his com 
 mand. 
 
 To read these Carrollton papers with no other 
 source of information at hand, one would conclude 
 that the negro was the sole cause of these Southern 
 troubles ; and though Mr. Gildersleeve ran no risk of 
 erring in that direction, he began to see how the real 
 
 L (159)
 
 160 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 facts were misunderstood both in the North and the 
 South. The latitude made the greatest difference 
 in the way people looked at things. In the North, the 
 white man was thought to be the one to blame ; in the 
 South, the negro. But Mr. Gildersleeve had already 
 come to regard both these assumptions as partially false 
 and partially true. He believed now that the situa 
 tion was due to a combination of causes, in which no 
 one factor was the sole responsible agent. He care 
 fully read several Southern papers, which he had 
 selected as best representing the tone of the people. 
 He observed the wide divergence of opinion and 
 fact that separated Northern and Southern journals, 
 and he thought anxiously of how far they both 
 were from the truth. 
 
 On the day after the fire, Major Mixon and a num 
 ber of his friends organized a hunt for 'Nezzar. For 
 nearly a week they kept the county in a state of excite 
 ment, and greatly intensified the sympathy of the 
 blacks for the criminal. They rode hard, talked more, 
 and swore nearly as much ; but all these mighty exer 
 tions failed of their purpose. 'Nezzar escaped, and 
 the negroes rejoiced. At last the effort to find him 
 was abandoned, many believing that he had gone out 
 of the State; and the passions of most of those inter 
 ested began to cool. Not so, however, with Major 
 Mixon. He had an intense desire to meet the man, 
 and he still hoped for an opportunity to pay off the 
 score. One day Mr. Gildersleeve met him in Belle 
 ville, and asked him whether any trace of the negro 
 had been obtained. 
 
 " No, sir ! " thundered the Major. " No, sir, but
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MORE DISGUSTED. 161 
 
 just wait ! If ever I do catch him ! " He 
 
 ground his teeth like a bull dog, while a sinister light, 
 that boded no good for the negro, gleamed from his 
 eyes. 
 
 Somewhat over a week had passed since the inter 
 view with Sharpe, and the legislature had been in ses 
 sion for several days, when one morning Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve was startled at reading in a newspaper the 
 flaring announcement that the State was being given 
 over to Negroism. The cause of this outburst was 
 that on the previous evening a Radical caucus had nom 
 inated a negro named Phelps to fill a supposed vacancy 
 in the Carrollton judicial circuit. A bitter fight had 
 been waged in the party over the matter, Governor 
 Northborn strenuously opposing the action of the 
 caucus, but to no purpose except to produce an almost 
 open rupture between himself and the other leaders. 
 The papers warmly supported Northborn, although he 
 was the foremost man of the opposite party, and ac 
 credited him with lofty motives. With equal warmth, 
 Phelps was assailed and denounced as a dangerous 
 man. Could this negro be the same to whom Mr. 
 Gravoir was to write about their charter ? It was 
 hardly possible. 
 
 On the day after reading the account of these 
 political doings at the State capitol, Mr. "Gildersleeve 
 happened to be in Carrollton, and during the morning 
 he stopped at his lawyer's office to inquire whether 
 there was any news about their charter. In reply, Mr. 
 Gravoir handed him two letters that had been lately 
 received, saying, with a smile : 
 
 " One of them contains an unsolicited offer to assist 
 us, which you will regard as rather unique, I think."
 
 162 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 The first letter ran thus : 
 
 "CLINTON, Nov. , 187 . 
 
 " FRANCIS GRAVOIR, Esq., Carrollton. 
 
 " Dear Sir : Yours of inst. at hand. I regret I 
 
 was absent from my home in Oceanville when your letter arrived 
 there, and important public business has since prevented me from 
 giving the matter earlier attention. I am rather surprised that 
 you desire me to take charge of what you mention, but presume 
 you have good reasons for approaching me instead of some one 
 nearer home. I will therefore accept the responsibility of the 
 business, and endeavor to push your interests promptly. Forward 
 the papers and $2,000 at once. Hope the terms will be satisfac 
 tory, as they are positively the lowest I can entertain. 
 " Respectfully, 
 
 " GEORGE WASHINGTON PHELPS." 
 
 The other letter, Mr. Gildersleeve was at first un 
 able to read, it was so illegible and smeared over with 
 ink. But, assisted by Mr. Gravior, he finally deci 
 phered the following : 
 
 "CLINTON, Nov. , 187 . 
 
 " mister frank Gavoir, i tek mi pen in han to rite yu a fu 
 lins, hopin tha will fine yu wel as tha leve me at present i hev jest 
 heerd that yer heve a bill to interduse to cuppurate a manfacturin 
 compny. i heerd that yer an Sharpe fall out on mony matters 
 Sharpe is greedy yer no. ef yer want me to tek charge of the bill 
 i ant got no objeckshuns an it wont cost yer no mo than $500. 
 " hopin i will here from yer sune i remane 
 " your troo frien 
 
 " isik smarts." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve could not understand who Isaac 
 Smarts was. 
 
 " He is one of the distinguished representatives of 
 a neighboring county, and in this erudite epistle he is 
 soliciting the management of our bill," explained Mr. 
 Gravoir.
 
 MR. GILDERSLEEVE MORE DISGUSTED. 163 
 
 " A legislator of this civilized State ! It cannot be 
 possible that such an ignorant man sits in the halls of 
 your legislature ! " 
 
 " It is not only the fact, but I can safely assert that 
 mafny of our representatives have much less education 
 than this fellow. There are not a few who can neither 
 read nor write, and you have evidence of this man's 
 ability to write." 
 
 " How is it then that they are able to conduct the 
 affairs of the government ? " 
 
 " The leaders, or most of them, are men of educa 
 tion. Indeed, in this same Radical party there are men 
 of considerable ability. They conduct the business of 
 state, and take the lion's share of the spoils. The 
 other more ignorant set loaf around and simply obey 
 the leaders. Being men of small desires, they are sat 
 isfied with a paltry share of the plunder. What a bril 
 liant government for an enlightened community ! We 
 have no reason to complain ! No, no ! we are traitors 
 to the Union we are rebels if we raise our voice 
 against the existence of this great outrage on hu 
 manity ! " 
 
 " But this man Phelps the two thousand dollar 
 fellow, is he the same whom I hear spoken of as a 
 candidate for the judgeship of this circuit ? " asked 
 Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 " The very same man ; but I do not believe he will 
 be elected. The Governor is opposing his election, 
 and I hardly think the horde at the capital will dare 
 to thrust such an additional outrage upon us. Besides, 
 there is a question whether a vacancy in the office 
 exists." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve finally decided to call a meeting
 
 164 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 of all interested in the prospective corporation, to con 
 sider some new course of action. That afternoon the 
 gentlemen met in Mr. Gravoir's office, and a prolonged 
 discussion ensued. Mr. Gildersleeve plainly stated 
 his hesitation to invest money where the political and 
 social conditions were so unsatisfactory. The South 
 erners, however, were loth to lose this opportunity of 
 gaining a large amount of business capital, and after 
 some argument Mr. Gildersleeve was induced to con 
 tinue his efforts to obtain the charter. But he stated 
 distinctly that getting a charter should not be held as 
 finally pledging him to the scheme, in case he wished 
 to retire. On his suggestion, it was determined to 
 place the bill at once in the hands of a Democratic 
 representative and let it take its chances ; although 
 several of the gentlemen present expressed the opinion 
 that such a course was tantamount to doing nothing. 
 Mr. Gildersleeve made no reply to this; but he secretly 
 thought that never again would he willingly have busi 
 ness with a Southern legislature.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 
 
 TWO months and more passed by. Christmas 
 and the New Year had come and gone, and 
 the middle of February was nigh. The winter had 
 been unusually mild, and except for occasional damp 
 rainy days, the Gildersleeves could almost imagine the 
 presence of one long delightful autumn, which was 
 now gradually merging into an invigorating spring. 
 Flowers began to appear ; the delicious little violet, 
 the harbinger of the Southern floral year, had long 
 since unfolded its modest petals under the coaxing of 
 the soft weather. The budding of the trees, the joy 
 ous merriment of the feathered tribe, and the insinua 
 ting cheerfulness of these sunshiny days, announced 
 the advent of spring in that language which Nature 
 never uses ambiguously. 
 
 Hortense felt the influence of the season, and during 
 these brighter hours she spent most of the time in the 
 open air. With the assistance of an accomplished gar 
 dener, she had busied herself for some time in the long- 
 neglected garden on their premises, and now her 
 desires and labors began to reap reward. Almost cov 
 ering one of the fences, grew naturally the yellow jessa 
 mine, the Southern vine of which she had heard so 
 much ; and she waited impatiently for the rich yield 
 of blossoms which its luxurious growth promised. The 
 
 (165)
 
 160 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 love of flowers was inborn with her. Everything that 
 was pure and beautiful she loved in a simple anafervent 
 way, because she found a pleasure in loving. -But her 
 feelings seldom took the form of outward demonstra 
 tion ; she was one of those individuals who instinctively 
 shrink from rude contact of their thoughts and ideas 
 with those of people whose nature is of coarser mould. 
 Her sensitiveness, together with her pride, had gradu 
 ally combined to develop in her a studied habit of re 
 serve. When she gathered a bouquet of delicate half- 
 blown roses, her appreciation of them was too keen to 
 be wasted in outward demonstrations ; but she had 
 that inward glow of satisfaction which springs from 
 thorough enjoyment. Under her calm and apparently 
 cold exterior, her strong emotional nature throbbed 
 violently at times. But the world in which she moved, 
 and even to some extent her own parents, did not un 
 derstand the girl. She was capable of surprising even 
 those who thought they knew her best. 
 
 She had a strong love for flowers. She always im 
 agined them living creatures, and she had read some 
 where that they possessed sensibility ; so she jealously 
 guarded their welfare, and no unnecessary plucking 
 was ever permitted on her bushes ; she would have 
 regarded it as cruelty. Although she had lived in the 
 North, yet the ample means of her family had always 
 enabled her to have flowers in abundance ; but she 
 had had no plot of her own to cultivate, and greenhouse 
 plants seemed to her so artificial compared with these 
 hardy products of generous sunshine. Never before 
 had she seen such floral profusion in the open air as 
 during the previous fall, when even the humblest gar 
 dens seemed to her unaccustomed eye a blaze of color.
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 167 
 
 To have her own flowers was now one of her lesser 
 ambitions ; and accordingly a gardener had been en 
 gaged. Steadily the two worked together ; he was in 
 earnest and liked his duties, which pleased Hortense. 
 In turn, her enthusiasm encouraged him, and thus a 
 sort of sympathy seemed to grow up between the man 
 and his young mistress. Mr. Gildersleeve, with his 
 practical view of things in general, regarded the work 
 as useful employment ; and her mother smiled approv 
 ingly when Hortense came in with soiled hands and 
 draggled skirts, but with a blush-rose tinge mantling 
 her fair cheek. 
 
 One day her father brought home some orange blos 
 soms as a curiosity. Hortense examined them, and 
 declared that they were very ugly and uninteresting. 
 In fact, it hurt her to look at them, though she would 
 have been deeply mortified had any one even hinted 
 the fact. Her father laughingly told her that she was 
 not much like other girls, and was sure to be an old 
 maid. Hortense retorted by asking him to buy her a 
 cat and some knitting-needles both of which she cor 
 dially detested so that she could begin her life of 
 spinsterhood in earnest. In her heart she was glad 
 that there were no orange trees with their blossoms 
 in her garden. They would only bring up thoughts 
 that she wished to banish as long as possible. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve had but little taste for flowers, 
 save that he liked to have his grounds and house orna 
 mented like those of his neighbors. But he became 
 more deeply interested each day in the politics of his 
 State. With the exception of a week's recess at Christ 
 mas, the legislature had been in session since early in 
 November. Agreeably to the decision of the incor-
 
 168 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 porators, the bill providing for the charter of the com 
 pany had been committed to the care of a Democratic 
 representative, and Mr. Gildersleeve had learned 
 that it had received its first reading. Closely he 
 watched the proceedings. At times he was shocked ; 
 again, he felt that the civilization of his coun 
 try was outraged if these reports were true and 
 he saw no reason to believe them unreliable if divested 
 of the usual newspaper flourish. Governor Northborn 
 had made a determined stand against the nomination 
 of Phelps for the judgeship, and the matter had been 
 postponed from time to time. But now news came 
 that the friends of Phelps were again urging his 
 claims, and that a crisis would soon be reached. The 
 business men of Carrollton were again alarmed, and 
 the newspapers immediately became inflammatory at 
 the mere prospect of Phelps sitting on the bench. 
 What manner of government is this ? Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve asked of himself more than once ; and having 
 an abundance of leisure, he gave much of his thoughts 
 to the political situation. 
 
 It was about the middle of February, when Mr. 
 Gravoir received a letter from Mr. Francklyn, to whose 
 care the bill had been committed. This representative 
 urged the necessity of having some one at the State 
 capital to look after the interests of the company. He 
 stated that the bill would soon, he hoped, receive its 
 second reading ; but as Sharpe and Phelps had mani 
 fested opposition to its passage, and had threatened it 
 with defeat, he did not know what would be the out 
 come. Mr. Gravior saw that necessity for action was 
 urgent, if the bill was to be passed at this session. 
 Personal influence might accomplish much among the
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 169 
 
 dusky representatives at the State capital, if accom 
 panied by a judicious use of the" sinewsof war." He 
 saw no wrong in these methods under the circum 
 stances. Sheer necessity often compelled a resort to 
 them ; and perhaps, as he had said, long acquaintance 
 may have dulled his sensibilities. Mr. Gildersleeve, 
 however, would not consent to such a mode of action ; 
 and there, of course, the matter rested. But Mr. Gra- 
 voir believed that if the Northerner's most vital com 
 mercial interests were located in the State, and it was 
 their safety which he was watching, and not merely the 
 progress of a plaything of a factory, he would find 
 himself forced by the irresistible current of political 
 society to place a little money here and there, in order 
 to protect what his industry had gained ; in other 
 words, he would be obliged to pay this additional tax, 
 unjust and oppressive though it might be. 
 
 Mr. Gravoir found that his engagements would pre 
 vent his attendance at the capital, and, indeed, he 
 did not see how he could accomplish the desired result 
 if deprived of the most powerful, and, in fact, the only 
 effective, weapon. But as Mr. Gildersleeve was anx 
 ious that some one should attend, it was arranged that 
 he and Maurice Graham should together proceed to 
 Clinton, the capital, and look after the progress of the 
 bill. Mr. Gildersleeve was quite curious to have a 
 close view of the Southern legislature which had caused 
 him so much annoyance, and he was pleased with Mau 
 rice as a delightful companion who held liberal opin 
 ions and understood thoroughly the times and the men 
 of the State. So one evening they boarded a train 
 for Clinton ; and after rumbling along all night at a 
 sort of dog-trot rate of speed, which seemed to the
 
 170 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 energetic Northerner in perfect keeping with what he 
 had expected of a Southern railroad, they arrived 
 safely at their destination, and were soon afterwards 
 making themselves comfortable at the hotel. 
 
 On coming out from breakfast, they met Mr. Franck- 
 lyn, to whom Maurice introduced Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 The party sought a sitting-room, and the prospects of 
 the bill were at once broached. Mr. Francklyn ex 
 pressed himself briefly, but pointedly. He did not 
 think the bill would pass. He had talked to many 
 of the members, and had repeatedly urged the claims 
 of the bill upon the committeemen to whom it had 
 been referred. Sharpe and Phelps had been watching 
 him closely, and, in a quiet way, had been very active 
 in arousing opposition to the charter. He was afraid 
 that all his efforts would be overcome by the two poli 
 ticians. Still, he would endeavor to bring the bill again 
 before the House, and do his utmost to have it passed. 
 Mr. Gildersleeve could complain of no lack of interest 
 on Mr. Francklyn 's part. 
 
 " Is there any news about the judicial election ? " 
 asked Maurice, when the first subject was exhausted. 
 
 " Yes, the Republicans held another caucus last 
 night, and I have heard that they are determined to 
 press the election of Phelps and Murphy," returned 
 Mr. Francklyn. " In fact, I understood that the mat 
 ter would come up to-day. I'm afraid the Governor 
 will be beaten." 
 
 " Is Phelps a native of this State ? " asked Mr. Gil 
 dersleeve. 
 
 " I hardly know," returned Maurice. " Report 
 says that while quite a lad he escaped from slavery to 
 the North, where he fell into good hands and received
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 171 
 
 a superficial education. Towards the close of the war 
 he joined a black regiment, and when the troops were 
 disbanded he found himself in Carrollton. He soon 
 embarked in politics and has been sent to almost every 
 legislature since. He has asked and received bribes 
 innumerable, and he has been a member of various 
 committees notorious for their unbounded frauds. His 
 speeches are of the most incendiary character, and he 
 is known to have been an active fomenter of disturb 
 ances between the whites and the blacks. He has no 
 legal knowledge, but he is shrewd and unscrupulous, 
 and as a judge he would be a most dangerous man." 
 
 " Is Murphy, the candidate for the other vacancy, 
 any better ? " 
 
 " No, sir, not a bit," answered Mr. Francklyn 
 promptly. " He is no less steeped in crime ; the chief 
 difference is in their color. Murphy is a dissolute, 
 licentious spendthrift, a native of this State, and 
 during his administration as Governor he seemed to 
 take a delight in outraging morals and society by his 
 public indecencies. He left the gubernatorial mansion, 
 a bankrupt. He made the pardoning power an affair 
 of open bargain and sale ; the last act of his executive 
 career was to sell his signature to the pardon of a 
 criminal for five dollars. An actual fact, sir ! That's 
 the kind of man," added Mr. Francklyn, with some 
 bitterness, " that the Republican party has produced 
 in the South ; the man whom it made a governor, and 
 whom it now wants to elevate to a judgeship ! " 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve said nothing ; he no longer 
 experienced surprise, as he had done at first. 
 
 " I know a rich story, in which Phelps and Murphy 
 are. the leading characters," continued Mr. Francklyn,
 
 172 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 after a short interval of silence, " and which very well 
 illustrates their utter worthlessness. Some years back, 
 Murphy and Phelps were both members of the House, 
 the former being Speaker. They both owned fast 
 horses, whose speed they delighted in showing off. 
 One day they arranged for a trotting match, each 
 betting a thousand dollars on his horse. On the morn 
 ing appointed for the race although the close of the 
 term was near, and business was being rushed through 
 with great rapidity the House adjourned until even 
 ing. No reason was given for this surprising act, but 
 it was tacitly understood that the majority of the 
 members desired the time to attend the race. The 
 horses ran ; Murphy, the Speaker, lost, and became 
 indebted to Phelps for the amount staked. Of course, 
 no actual money had been put up. On the last day of 
 the session Phelps moved ' that a gratuity of one 
 thousand dollars be offered the Speaker of this House, 
 for the dignity and ability with which he has presided 
 over its deliberations.' The party obediently voted as 
 directed ; and thus the State was made to pay a bet 
 lost by its Speaker at a horse race ! Oh, there's no 
 mistake ! Those fellows bragged about it," continued 
 Mr. Francklyn, noticing a slight expression of 
 incredulity on Mr. Gildersleeve's countenance. " You 
 never hear of these things up North, of course not. 
 It is not for the interest of the party that you should. 
 The journal of the House records the adjournment 
 and the gratuity, and the newspapers of the day 
 describe the race as coming off during the adjourn 
 ment, with three-fourths of the legislators in attend 
 ance." 
 
 " The affair caused considerable indignation at the
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 173 
 
 time," added Maurice, " but that never affected the 
 participants. The more the whites rage, the louder is 
 the applause of the negroes. I remember hearing my 
 father say that this one transaction furnished a com 
 plete commentary upon our government." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve remained in convinced silence. 
 He began to feel a shame that he could not express, for 
 this Republican party in the South. 
 
 The time was now near ten o'clock ; and as the 
 legislature was to meet at that hour, Mr. Francklyn 
 proposed that the party should proceed to the State 
 House. A walk of a few minutes brought them to the 
 Capitol, which was a large white stone building, origi 
 nally massive and imposing in its design, but now, in 
 its unfinished condition, presented a bare and ungainly 
 appearance. They entered, and proceeded at once to 
 the hall of the house, where Mr. Francklyn assigned 
 convenient seats to his friends. The House had not 
 as yet been called to order ; the confusion that existed 
 told that fact unmistakably. Maurice, as soon as he 
 saw his companion comfortably seated, excused himself 
 and disappeared in the crowd upon the floor. Mr. 
 Francklyn remained for some minutes, pointing out the 
 more prominent men, and then he too withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve viewed the scene with intense 
 interest. With the exception of about twenty mem 
 bers, the House was composed entirely of men of more 
 or less negro blood. The out-and-out Africans, with 
 kinky hair, thick bestial lips, flat nose, and shining 
 skin, were perhaps the most numerous, and among 
 them were some splendid specimens of fully developed 
 animals. These were the lowest of all in intelligence ; a 
 few, like Phelps, possessed a fair amount of ability, but
 
 174 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 they were the rare exceptions. Next came the ginger 
 bread mulatto, proud of his superiority over the black 
 man, who, in turn, boasted of his purer blood. Look 
 ing patronisingly upon both of these was the light- 
 colored octoroon, suave and insinuating in his manners, 
 an exquisite in his own eyes, irresistible among women, 
 and a knave in all his dealings. A grand success as a 
 barber or a valet de chambre, his intelligence and moral 
 elasticity had enabled him to take early advantage of 
 the opportunities afforded by Southern politics. These 
 were the more marked types ; but besides them almost 
 every shade of color could be seen, and the personnel of 
 the House presented to the eye of a stranger a highly 
 mosaic appearance. Very few of the members were 
 as yet in their seats, and these were in the lazy abandon 
 ment of the easiest positions. A few were lying on 
 lounges, sleeping off the last night's debauch ; others 
 were eating peanuts the popular legislative refresh 
 ment of the period to while away the time. Many 
 of the members were smoking or chewing tobacco, and 
 in expectorating they evinced not the least respect for 
 place. Numerous small groups decorated the floor. 
 Most of them seemed engaged in earnest conversation, 
 punctuated occasionally by violent gesticulation. In 
 close proximity to Mr. Gildersleeve was one of these 
 groups. As the discussion waxed warmer, their 
 laughter became more boisterous and the conversation 
 more plainly audible. 
 
 " Oh, de caucus has fixed tings," said a big negro. 
 " No use fur de buckra ter kick no mo'; we'se all solid 
 fur Phelps now." 
 
 " De white trash will choke 'eself when dey sees 
 how we'se got "em dis time ! "
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 175 
 
 " Golly ! an' de Gub'ner too ! 'Feared like he wanted 
 ter boss dis great 'Publikin party ! " 
 
 " The d d traitor ! " interposed a flashy octoroon. 
 " He wanted to sell out to the white folks ; but I 
 guess he'll find himself left. We've got the power, 
 and by ! we'll use it ! " 
 
 " You're right, brudder ; ef de Gub'ner calculates 
 ter be our leader, he mustn't be reposed terdenomina- 
 shun of a black man." 
 
 " Fore de Lord, we'se gwine 'lect Phelps dis time!" 
 
 " We'll 'peach de Gub'ner, ef he don't 'tend his own 
 business ! " 
 
 " Dat we will, ef he don't sign de commission ! " 
 
 " Golly ! won't de white folks git rippin' mad when 
 dey hears dat a cullud genelman is ter be dere 
 jedge ! " 
 
 Loud laughter followed this last remark, while the 
 ebony faces in the group displayed no little merriment 
 at the prospective discomfiture of the whites. It was 
 a joke which they could thoroughly appreciate. 
 
 At this moment the Speaker's gavel was rapped 
 furiously on his desk ; the groups were broken up, and 
 the members sought their seats amid much confusion. 
 During the noise, Mr. Gildersleeve heard his name 
 spoken, and turning around he saw Sharpe at his 
 elbow. 
 
 " When did you arrive ? " asked the latter. " Glad 
 to see you." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve answered with a ceremonious bow, 
 not deigning to speak or rise from his seat. Altogether 
 unabashed by this cool reception, Sharpe drew nearer, 
 and lowering his voice said, almost in a whisper : 
 
 " Mr. Gildersleeve, there is yet time to fix that bill. 
 M
 
 176 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Better not waste your last chance. Give me your note 
 for twenty-five hundred, and I'll forget the past." 
 
 Looking at him steadily, the Northerner answered : 
 " You're a scoundrel ! " 
 
 "Aha! " retorted Sharpe, "still calling bad names, 
 eh ? Well, you'll whistle for your charter, my Yankee 
 friend," and with an intensely malignant sneer, he de 
 parted. 
 
 When the members were seated, the Speaker a 
 pure-blooded African declared the House called to 
 order. The roll was read, and then the chaplain a 
 negro preacher opened the exercises with prayer. Mr. 
 Gildersleeve could not fail to realize the mockery of 
 the whole proceeding. 
 
 Maurice had rejoined him, and as soon as the pray 
 ers were finished, he said to his friend : 
 
 " I am sorry to tell you that I see very little chance 
 for our bill at present. The members are thinking of 
 nothing but the election of Phelps and Murphy, and 
 they would not even listen to me." 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve made no reply. He was begin 
 ning to lose all interest in the bill. 
 
 The preliminaries of opening the House having been 
 finished, the Speaker announced that a new member, 
 recently elected to fill a vacancy, was ready to be sworn 
 in. The candidate for legislative honors came for 
 ward, took the oath, and was declared a member of 
 the House. As he walked down the aisle to find a 
 seat, Maurice exclaimed to his companion : 
 
 " Why, that fellow was one of our plantation ne 
 groes ! How could he manage to get here ? Father 
 discharged him last year because of his unconquera 
 ble laziness, and besides, he is a confirmed petty thief.
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 377 
 
 * 
 
 Here he comes," and as the negro passed down, the 
 young man stopped him. He was a tall, full-blooded 
 Ethiopian, dressed in a dirty jean suit and yellow bro- 
 gans, and his dark shirt was open at the neck, exposing 
 his breast. 
 
 " Hello ! Neptune, how did you get here ? " asked 
 Maurice. 
 
 The negro turned, and perceiving him, exclaimed 
 in surprise : " For laws' sakes ! Massa Maurice, is dat 
 you ? " Then drawing himself up proudly, and smil 
 ing complacently, he continued : 
 
 " How I git yar ? Hi ! Well, yer see, when I left 
 de Kunnel's place I turned my 'tendon to politiks. De 
 niggers 'lowed, sensible like, dat I knowed mo' dan 
 dey did, so dey sen' me yar. I kin mek heap mo' 
 money yar dan in de field, an' I kin lib like a white 
 genelman. Massa Maurice," with some emphasis, 
 "ef yer pa was fur ter gib me twice de wages, 
 I wouldn't go back ter de plantation no mo' ! " 
 
 " Do you think Phelps will be elected judge of our 
 circuit ? " 
 
 " Well, I ain't heard much about dat yit, not yit," re 
 plied Neptune gravely, and with an air of supreme 
 importance. This moment, when he was able to show 
 his importance before his former master's son, was one 
 of the happiest in the fellow's life. " I'se only been yar 
 sence airly dis mornin 1 , an' I ain't had no chance yit fur 
 ter larn wot dey is gwine ter do. But I 'spec' dey'll 'lect 
 a cullud pusson jedge. De leaders, dey says dat de cul- 
 lud mens hab de right ter de highest offices, an ? I 
 'gree wid dem. Phelps will mek a boss jedge. I 
 'spec' I'll vote fur him."
 
 178 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Don't you know he's one of the worst reprobates 
 in the State ? " 
 
 " Wot's dat ? I reckon yer means dat he's a bad 
 man, eh ? " Maurice smiled and nodded. " Dat's wot 
 you white folks allus say. Ef de party wants Phelps, 
 I'se gwine tervote fur him, onless dis nigger's a fool ! 
 Good-bye, Massa Maurice." 
 
 " Get along ! " returned Maurice, somewhat angrily. 
 " The time is coming when you ignorant fellows will 
 have to work instead of posing as legislators." 
 
 Neptune walked off, unimpressed by this prophecy. 
 Very few of the jackals thought then that the day of 
 retribution was so near. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve touched Maurice on the arm, and 
 pointed to the center of the hall. Mr. Francklyn had 
 risen from his seat. 
 
 " Mr. Speaker," he was saying, "the next bill on the 
 calendar is one to grant a charter to the Pioneer Mill 
 ing Company, an enterprise in which the whole State is 
 more or less interested. I move that we proceed to its 
 second reading." 
 
 Sharpe, who seemed to be busy with some other 
 politicians, looked up quickly and exclaimed : 
 
 " I object to the motion of the gentleman from 
 Williamson County." He then added, apparently 
 sotto vocc, but in a tone audible half way across the hall : 
 " We have more important business on hand to-day 
 than granting charters to monopolists." He con 
 tinued, in a louder tone : " The judicial elections have 
 been made the special order for the day. I move we 
 proceed at once to the election, and that a messenger 
 be sent to notify the Senate." 
 
 Mr. Francklyn, assisted by several Democrats,
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. ]?9 
 
 pressed his motion ; but in vain. One of Sharpe's 
 fellows moved to table, and as the roll was called, over 
 two-thirds of the votes were recorded in favor of throt 
 tling, in its very incipiency, this new and valuable indus 
 try. 
 
 Sharpe had the field undisputed. He again offered 
 his motion, the vote was taken, and the Speaker an 
 nounced that the election was in order. A mes 
 senger was dispatched to summon the Senate imme 
 diately. 
 
 " Do you wjsh to remain in this place any longer ? " 
 asked Mr. Gildersleeve of Maurice. 
 
 " Suppose we wait until this election is over." 
 
 But a few minutes had passed, when the Senators 
 appeared and took their seats. Mr. Gildersleeve 
 noticed that the African race furnished a fair propor 
 tion of members to this body also. As soon as all 
 were seated, the President of the Assembly the Lieu 
 tenant Governor, a negro, announced that the chair 
 was ready to receive nominations for the judgeship of 
 the first (Carrollton) circuit. Sharpe at once gained 
 the floor, and in a few terse sentences nominated 
 Phelps. He then proceeded to paint the character of 
 the nominee : 
 
 " An honest, fearless, upright man Born 
 
 a slave, ground down by the cruelties of the most 
 fiendish oppression, yet amid all the debasing influ 
 ences of that barbarous institution, the Honorable Mr. 
 Phelps had fostered the spirit of a freeman in his 
 bosom. He had borne himself haughtily before his 
 temporal master, knowing himself a man in the sight 
 of God ! ... Escaping from his persecutors, he 
 became a Union soldier, fighting in the glorious cause
 
 180 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 of liberty, and offering up his blood, his life, his all, 
 for the freedom of his race ! . . . . The victory gained, 
 and the sacred cause of Right and Justice once more 
 triumphant, he felt that his duty was done ; and I say 
 to you that it was nobly done ! He studied law, and 
 entered upon the practice of his profession. But the 
 necessities of the times were too great, they were too 
 imperative, to permit a man of such noble instincts, 
 such practical sagacity in the affairs of life, of such 
 unshaken integrity, of such depth of intellect, to remain 
 quietly in the walks of private life." (" What a pair of 
 villains ! " thought Gildersleeve). " His race had called 
 upon Mr. Phelps to represent them in the political 
 arena, as he had once done upon the battlefield, to 
 repulse the continual encroachments of their former 
 masters, to preserve that liberty which his gallant arm 
 had assisted in snatching from the muzzle of the can 
 non. Abandoning at once his most cherished pro 
 jects, and with a self-abnegation above compare, Mr. 
 Phelps had obeyed the call of his people. I am proud," 
 cried Sharpe, who was an excellent speaker, "that I 
 have the honor of nominating a colored gentleman for 
 this position, and you should all feel glad to recognize 
 merit, to reward sacrifice, and to fulfil a duty ! Colored 
 men have been Congressmen. They are legislators of 
 this State. The President of this Assembly and the 
 Speaker of this House are colored gentlemen, who fill 
 their posts with honor to themselves and to their con 
 stituents. The colored race now demands that one of 
 its people shall be a judge. Woe unto you if you 
 hearken not to that just demand." 
 
 Sharpe sat down, and the most uproarious applause 
 followed his effort. The large hall fairly echoed and
 
 A LEGISLATIVE SCENE. 181 
 
 re-echoed with the shouts. One huge negro hastily 
 mounted a chair and cried out excitedly: 
 
 " I rise tu a pint ob order ! I calls de question ! " 
 
 The President called him to order, but his voice 
 and the gavel could scarcely be heard above the din. 
 At last, when comparative silence was restored, Mr. 
 Francklyn rose and nominated a white Republican, an 
 honest man whom the party had long since practically 
 repudiated. While the claims of this nominee were 
 being advocated, Mr. Gildersleeve turned to Maurice 
 and said : 
 
 " I have Phelps's letter in regard to our charter 
 with me. Do you think any use can be made of it?" 
 
 " Possibly ; let me have it, and I will see." 
 
 Taking the letter, Graham passed rapidly across 
 the hall to one of the Democrats, and explaining the 
 connections of the letter, he delivered it to the repre 
 sentative with the request to make of it what use he 
 could. As soon as Mr. Francklyn sat down, this gen 
 tleman rose and read its contents. For a moment or 
 two after he had finished there was a dead silence. 
 Then Sharpe jumped up wildly and called the ques 
 tion. The spell was broken, and member after mem 
 ber shouted the same demaud. The balloting began, 
 and half an hour afterwards the President announced 
 that the " Honorable George Washington Phelps had 
 been duly elected judge of the first circuit." 
 
 Following this announcement, another and wilder 
 scene of confusion ensued. The darkies screamed 
 and yelled for joy. Some three or four, seizing Phelps, 
 jerked him up on a desk and demanded a speech. 
 
 " Come, let us go," said Mr. Gildersleeve. " But 
 before we do, see Mr. Francklyn and tell him I wish
 
 182 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 that bill dropped. With such a man judge of our cir 
 cuit, I would not risk a cent in investment." 
 
 Maurice complied without a word. His heart was 
 heavy, and he felt the sorrows of his State as though 
 they were his own. The two left the Capitol in silence, 
 and that evening they took the train for Carrollton. 
 They knew that the telegraph had quickly told the 
 tale, and Maurice could almost picture the startled 
 faces of the commercial men of the city, aghast at this 
 long-threatened affront. 
 
 People who enjoy a good government, protecting 
 all classes and extending its influence throughout all 
 domains, who possess a spotless judiciary, which laughs 
 at violence, which can neither be cajoled by personal 
 influence nor corrupted by gold ; that people, secure 
 in the stability of their social safeguards, can little 
 realize the dangers which menace others who may be 
 under the dominion of a wicked and unscrupulous 
 judge. Tyranny may exist among the executives ; the 
 legislators may be imbeciles and rogues ; yet there is a 
 rift of hope in the clouds if the people can depend 
 upon the bench. An upright and fearless judge is in 
 himself a bulwark of popular liberty. He may be 
 silenced for a time ; his actr e usefulness may be dimin 
 ished, but so long as he holds office, tyranny loses its 
 completeness, and long-lived anarchy is impossible. 
 But when the executive is weak, and the legislative 
 and judicial departments are alike steeped in crime, 
 civilization sinks in despair and liberty flies the land.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 
 
 IT has always been a source of considerable surprise 
 to Northern thinkers, that the Southern leaders, 
 and the South generally, failed to understand that the 
 negro race, emancipated from slavery, could not re 
 main a neutral body, a political nonentity, and thus 
 without means of protecting themselves and their 
 newly acquired rights from aggression. The only sure 
 protection was enfranchisement. The Northern politi 
 cal philosopher considered the negro's investiture with 
 the right of suffrage as but the logical consequence of 
 his emancipation ; and he was amazed that the South 
 ern whites did not yield at once to the inevitable, and 
 by winning the favor and confidence of the freedmen, 
 become their political leaders. It is often asserted that 
 if such a course had been pursued by the Southern 
 people, they would have been spared all the horrors of 
 a Radical government, and would also have removed 
 from the Northern mind the impression that the South 
 was still actuated by an open hostility to the realization 
 of Northern victory. The conclusions of these distant 
 philosophers were no doubt consistent with pure rea 
 son, unbiased by prejudice, passion, and other human 
 weaknesses. But viewed in the sunlight of personal 
 experience, their arguments contained a demand upon 
 the attributes of divinity. At the close of the war, and 
 
 (183)
 
 184 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 for many years afterwards, there was no influential 
 class among the native whites, outside of the old 
 Aristocracy, strong enough to form and carry out a 
 policy. Being accustomed for generations to the des 
 potic rule of this Aristocracy, the other classes of the 
 Southern population were incapable of acting for them 
 selves. They depended upon the old families to shape 
 a policy, and they quietly followed their lead. In this 
 state of affairs, it was unreasonable to expect the South 
 to become immediately reconciled to so great a change ; 
 the interests of the masses being seemingly identical 
 with those of the Aristocracy. A stroke of the pen, a 
 governmental mandate, can not cause a whole people to 
 discard their sentiments and prejudices, disown the 
 political doctrines they have ever before maintained, 
 and elevate to an equality with themselves a race re 
 garded for generations as inferior. It was not only 
 when the struggle had ended that such results were 
 presented to the South for acceptance, and that her 
 land was desolated and her people beggared; but when 
 it was remembered that although slavery was the occa 
 sion, yet the doctrine of State Sovereignty was the real 
 cause of the war, the demand upon the South for a 
 complete and immediate reconcilement appears all the 
 more unreasonable. While the Northern, or Republi 
 can, view of this great constitutional issue is sustained 
 by practical reasoning, the question was one not alto 
 gether free from doubt, and, indeed, was peculiarly 
 adapted to create honest differences of opinion. It is 
 therefore not surprising that the Southern ruling classes, 
 losing so heavily, and believing themselves in the right, 
 opposed Reconstruction, and were urged on by some
 
 SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 185 
 
 vague hope that the changes would not be so radical 
 as threatened. 
 
 With this opposition to encounter from the South 
 ern whites, and recognizing the negro's incapacity to 
 care for himself, Reconstruction seemed to the North 
 the only safe means of rendering its victory permanent. 
 But if the authors of that measure could have foreseen 
 the horrors and crimes which the establishment of a 
 Radical government entailed evils that might be com 
 pared with the proconsul rule of the Roman provinces 
 they would surely have shrunk from its con 
 templation. Reconstruction has, indeed, succeeded in 
 changing Southern sentiment to a material degree, and 
 some severe means were necessary to effect it ; but it 
 has been attained at a cost that only those who have 
 tasted the bitterness of those years can ever rightly 
 estimate. 
 
 It naturally followed, when the native whites haugh 
 tily disdained to cooperate in the work of Reconstruc 
 tion, that the blacks, unable to lead themselves, became 
 the pliant tools of as unscrupulous a body of men as 
 ever banded together for purposes of plunder. The 
 white element of the Southern Republican party was 
 composed of all sorts and conditions of men. Some 
 were educated and refined ; but the vast majority were 
 the lowest dregs of Northern society, not a few having 
 been camp followers of the great armies of the North. 
 They settled in various parts of the South, many of 
 them intending at first to pursue legitimate vocations, 
 but finding that politics offered opportunities for 
 speedily amassing a fortune, they one by one found 
 their way into the forum. The Republican party im 
 mediately gained control, and soon became an irresist-
 
 186 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 tble power. In the particular State of which we write, 
 its course was marked by a succession of frauds, em 
 bezzlements, lawlessness and debauchery, each year 
 the situation becoming more desperate, and the char 
 acter of the leaders more despicable. When they as 
 sumed control of the government the State debt was 
 not more than $5,000,000 ; in five years afterwards the 
 bonded debt reached the enormous sum of $33,000,000, 
 with a floating indebtedness too large and uncertain 
 for computation. The leaders themselves were amazed 
 at the enormity of the debts they had created, and were 
 compelled, in order that their source of revenue might 
 not be diminished, to repudiate one-half of the debt 
 and fund it at fifty cents on the dollar. What became 
 of the money ? Vain question ! There are no extrav 
 agant improvements in public property to excuse the 
 outlay; and although pretense has been made that the 
 larger part of the debt was contracted for the benefit 
 of the negro, he is still substantially in the same con 
 dition he occupied in 1868. Yet men who entered the 
 State poverty-stricken, and held office during that pe 
 riod, became possessed of thousands and millions. It 
 was one stupendous fraud, from the gubernatorial chair 
 down to the humblest constable or justice of the peace. 
 Almost every office-holder was eager to make money, 
 and few were scrupulous as to the means employed. 
 High rates of taxation were imposed on property as 
 sessed far beyond its actual value, and, not content 
 with this ample revenue, they mortgaged the financial 
 credit of posterity. A mad and reckless life of extrav 
 agance was the order of the day. They indulged in 
 lavish expenditures while drawing comparatively paltry 
 salaries, and they openly acknowledged the illegitimate
 
 SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 187 
 
 sources of their wealth. The leading politicians soon 
 had fortunes ranging from one hundred thousand to 
 two or three million dollars. One of them, who upon 
 his arrival in the State was actually destitute, was esti 
 mated five years later to be worth three millions. How 
 such a fortune can be accumulated on an annual salary 
 of four or five thousand dollars, is a mathematical 
 problem that admits of no easy solution. 
 
 The aggressive dishonesty of this government was 
 not its only evil. It was inherently weak, and unable 
 to enforce its own laws. The judiciary and the min 
 isterial officers of the courts were largely corrupt, in 
 many instances readily bribed, and utterly valueless as 
 a means of protection against the criminal classes. 
 Crimes of every description flourished. Arson was 
 common, burglary, highway robbery and murder were 
 becoming familiar occurrences, and women were con 
 stantly in danger from the base assaults of negroes. 
 No protection could be expected from the courts. 
 Crimes of the deepest dye went unpunished. The 
 court officials, being often no better than those who 
 had elevated them to office, sympathized with the motley 
 crowd, and by securing their acquittal when brought 
 to trial, abetted them in their lawlessness. The juries 
 were packed with a crowd of idle and vicious negroes, 
 who swarmed around the court-houses, and earned for 
 themselves the title of professional jurymen. It was 
 senseless to expect justice from such men, if they had 
 any inducement for the contrary ; and even when, as 
 sometimes happened, a criminal was convicted for the 
 sake of appearances, the pardoning power was ready 
 to prostitute itself in his behalf if a political reason 
 existed for his escape.
 
 188 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 In making a general or a superficial survey of the 
 political field, two principal classes of Republicans 
 would be found : First, the shrewd and unscrupulous 
 demagogues, of whom Sharpe and Phelps are fair rep 
 resentatives ; and secondly, the ignorant but equally 
 venal petty politician like Smalls. A closer observa 
 tion, however, would reveal a third class of Repub 
 licans : men of integrity, men who had honestly 
 striven to check the abuses of the day. They were 
 sincere in their purposes ; and had they constituted the 
 majority of the Republican leaders, Reconstruction 
 would not have proven a failure. These men among 
 whom were quite a number of native whites were able 
 to see the threatened dangers of the future, and they 
 went into politics with a fervent desire to do good. For 
 a time they fought bravely ; but their numbers were 
 too few to render their efforts successful. One distin 
 guished citizen an ex-governor, who before the war 
 occupied the Speaker's chair of Congress, and who 
 entered the Republican ranks, in the hope that the igno 
 rant black vote might be controlled and rendered com 
 paratively harmless was sent to die in the ice-bound 
 regions of St. Petersburg, in order that his depraved 
 associates at home might be freed from his restraining 
 influence. Hated by the party of his adoption, and 
 contemned by his own people, who could not appre 
 ciate the motives which caused him to affiliate with the 
 Radicals ; unable to stem the tide, yet unwilling to 
 swim with it ; broken in spirit by the utter frustration 
 of all his hopes, he yielded to the pressure of circum 
 stances and consented to the exile. Another promi 
 nent Republican, the law partner of Governor North- 
 born, after holding office for a short time, was either
 
 SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 189 
 
 relegated to private life, or retired voluntarily because 
 he saw the hopelessness of the task he had assumed. 
 One by one these honest men, unable to endure such 
 fellowship, abandoned the party to its worst elements. 
 Governor Northborn was also considered by many to 
 belong to that class, although his record before election 
 as governor was not altogether free from suspicion. 
 He had held the office of attorney-general during the 
 halcyon days of this regime, at the time when most of 
 the frauds against the State were perpetrated. He 
 was on the board appointed to superintend the issue 
 of State bonds, and as a law officer of the government 
 he was bound to protect the State against the fraudu 
 lent schemes of his colleagues. A wide difference of 
 opinion exists among the people as to his innocence or 
 criminality in this connection. Some maintain that he 
 was a participant in the frauds ; others that he was only 
 guilty in failing to expose them ; while a small number 
 hold that he was powerless to act, bound hand and foot 
 by the shrewd rogues who surrounded him. The 
 truth of this matter has never come to light, and it 
 will probably ever remain obscure. Possibly he was 
 not altogether blameless. The atmosphere around the 
 capitol, and in fact throughout the State, was so impreg 
 nated with the miasma of corruption, that only uncom 
 promising integrity could resist its influence. Mr. 
 Northborn may have been induced to remain quiet at 
 that time, by his desire and hope to gain such an 
 ascendency over the party that he might in coming days 
 purge it of its rottenness, and re-establish it upon an 
 honest and respectable basis. The crimes of the White 
 League and Kuklux organizations against the negroes 
 made him distrust the sincerity of the whites, and he
 
 190 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 probably hoped for some great change in the local 
 party lines. He was either greatly concerned about 
 the final issue of passing events, or else he was an arch 
 hypocrite. While he was attorney-general, he addressed 
 the following letter to a prominent Democrat of Car- 
 rollton, which will throw considerable light on his 
 character : 
 
 " I propose to lay aside all partisanship, and simply 
 to state facts as I conceive them to exist. Let us look 
 at our State when the Reconstruction acts first took 
 effect in 1868. 
 
 " A social revolution had been accomplished ; an 
 entire reversal of the political relations of the people 
 had occurred. The class which formerly held all the 
 political power of the State were stripped of all. The 
 class which had formerly been less than citizens, with 
 no political power or social position, were made the 
 sole depositants of the political power of the State. 
 I refer now to the practical results, not to theories. The 
 numerical relations of the two races here were such 
 that one race, under the new laws, held absolute polit 
 ical control of the State. 
 
 " The attitude and action of both races, under these 
 new conditions, while not unnatural, was, I must think, 
 unwise and unfortunate. One race stood aloof, and 
 haughtily refused to seek the confidence of the race 
 which was just entering on its new powers, while the 
 other race quickly grasped all the political power which 
 the new order of things had placed within their reach. 
 
 "From the nature of the case, the one race was 
 devoid of political experience, of all or nearly all 
 education, and were dependent mainly for all these 
 qualities upon those who, for the most part, chanced to
 
 SOME POLITICAL REFLECTIONS. 191 
 
 have drifted here from other States, or who, in very 
 rare instances, being former residents of the State, now 
 allied themselves with the other race. No man of com 
 mon prudence, or who was even slightly familiar with 
 the working of social forces, could have then failed to 
 see that the elements which went to compose the now 
 dominant party were not of the kind which produce 
 public virtue and honor, or which could very long 
 secure public order and peace. 
 
 " I make all just allowance for exceptional cases of 
 individual character ; but I say that the result to be 
 expected, from the very nature of the situation in 
 1868, was that a scramble for office would ensue 
 among the members of the party in power, which, 
 again, from the nature of the case, must result in fill 
 ing the offices of the State, local and general, with men 
 of no capacity, and little honesty or desire to really 
 serve the public. 
 
 " The nation had approved the Reconstruction meas 
 ures, not because they seemed to be free from danger, 
 nor because they were blind to the very grave responsi 
 bilities of future evils, but in the hope that the one 
 race, wearing its new laurels, and using its new powers 
 with modesty and forbearance, would gradually remove 
 the prejudices and enlist the sympathies and co-opera 
 tion of the other race, until a fair degree of homo 
 geneity should be reached, and race lines should cease 
 to mark the limits of political parties. Three years 
 have passed, and the result is what ? Incompetency, 
 dishonesty, corruption in all its forms, have advanced 
 their miscreated fronts ; have put to flight the small 
 remnant that opposed them, and now rule the party 
 which rules the State. 
 N
 
 192 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 11 You may imagine the chagrin with which I make 
 this statement. Truth alone compels it. My eyes see 
 it all my senses testify to the sad and startling fact. 
 I can never be indifferent to anything which touches 
 the fair fame of that great national party to which all 
 my deepest convictions attach me, and I repel the libel 
 which the party bearing that name in this State is daily 
 pouring upon us. I am a Republican by "habit, con 
 viction, and association ; but my Republicanism is not, 
 I trust, composed solely of equal parts of ignorance 
 and rapacity. Such is the plain statement of the pres 
 ent condition of the dominant party of our State." 
 
 But whatever may have been Mr. Northborn's ante 
 cedents, he proved a veritable reformer as Governor. 
 Of a commanding presence, combined with great per 
 sonal magnetism, and possessing a powerful intellect, 
 he often succeeded in forcing to obedience his unscru 
 pulous and rebellious followers. Considering the 
 degraded and reckless character of the local Republi 
 can leaders generally, he certainly exercised while 
 Governor a wonderful influence over them. In the 
 year preceding these later events he restrained the 
 commission of many a contemplated swindle. But his 
 influence, which had no doubt been originally acquired 
 through his inaction in regard to the party frauds, had 
 begun to wane. An active opposition to these frauds 
 naturally bred discontent, and only his personal mag 
 netism and his intimate connection with the adminis 
 tration at Washington prevented the Radical leaders 
 from cutting loose from him altogether. The election 
 of Phelps was his first great defeat.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 AS Maurice Graham had anticipated, the news of 
 Phelps's election caused the greatest excitement 
 in Carrollton and throughout the State. The people 
 felt that a great public calamity had fallen upon their 
 chief city. It was the topic of universal discussion. 
 Men were indignant, and expressed themselves without 
 restraint. Threats were freely uttered of using force 
 to prevent Phelps from taking his seat in October. At 
 this some of the more prudent heads looked grave, and 
 answered with that terrible alternative the United 
 States Government. But the Carrolltonians cried out, 
 " Give us educated officers, give us military rule if you 
 choose, but never will we submit to Phelps ! " This 
 determination grew stronger each day. It was no 
 evanescent burst of popular indignation that excited 
 the city, but a revolt in which all classes (except the 
 negroes) were concerned ; and its earnestness may 
 have had no little influence in deciding the Executive 
 action. 
 
 Soon after the adjournment of the legislature 
 Phelps applied for his commission. To the intense 
 relief of almost the whole State, Governor Northborn 
 answered by denying the legality of his election. In 
 this State the judges are elected for a term of four 
 years. The incumbent of the Carrollton circuit had 
 
 (193)
 
 194 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 been elected to fill a vacancy when only one-half the 
 term had expired. The latter half of this original 
 term would close in October ; and it was to fill the 
 vacancy which it was supposed would exist at that 
 time, that Phelps had been elected But the Governor 
 took the position that the present judge held office for 
 a full term that is, for two years longer. When this 
 decision was delivered the people hailed it with the 
 greatest gratitude, and for a time Northborn's name 
 was mentioned only with enthusiasm. Phelps promptly 
 dissented from the Governor's views, and took his case 
 to the Supreme Court of the State. A meeting of the 
 Carrollton bar was hastily called, and held with closed 
 doors ; the result was that a committee of five of the 
 ablest lawyers in Carrollton was appointed, with Mr. 
 Francis Gravoir as chairman, to contest Phelps's elec 
 tion when the Supreme Court should consider the case. 
 There the matter rested. 
 
 Some time had now passed since Mr. Gildersleeve 
 paid his visit to the legislature, and nothing had oc 
 curred to ruffle the quiet life of his family. The first 
 flush of spring was gone ; May had come, and towards 
 noon each day the sunshine began to be a little warm 
 in this southern climate. But the temperature in 
 Belleville seldom became oppressive, even in the 
 fiery days of July and August. Embowered in the 
 very heart of a dense pine forest, which covered large 
 areas around, the town was well shaded from the over 
 powering heats of summer. In Carrollton the fresh 
 ocean breezes rendered life tolerably enjoyable, except 
 for the mosquitoes that plague of Southern city life 
 during half the year. But in Belleville these pests are 
 never known, and the nights are always deliciously
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 195 
 
 cool. There are perhaps few places whose climate 
 during the entire year is pleasanter than that of this 
 pine-land town. 
 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve's greatly improved appearance 
 bore ample testimony to the salubrity of the place. 
 Her husband had never regretted the day he had 
 come South, and the family, having grown attached to 
 their home, were quite content that the prospect of a 
 return northward should remain indefinite. 
 
 About this time Mr. Gildersleeve found that he was 
 obliged to visit Boston on business. He had proposed 
 to his wife and daughter that they should go down to 
 Carrollton and stay at an excellent private boarding- 
 house during his trip. But Mrs. Gildersleeve did not 
 fancy exchanging the comforts of her home for a 
 boarding-house, and he had not insisted. Life was so 
 quiet and peaceful in the usually solemn old town 
 that he felt not the least apprehension at leaving them 
 alone. He had been gone but two days when his wife 
 received the following letter : 
 
 "CARROLLTON, FRIDAY. 
 " DEAR MRS. GILDERSLEEVE: 
 
 " We have just heard that Mr. Gildersleeve 
 
 has gone north on a business trip. You and Hortense must feel 
 lonely in that big house. I write to ask if you will not come 
 down and stay with us during your husband's absence. You may 
 perhaps know from the papers, that next week we are to have a 
 grand military parade, boat racing on three days, a fair, and to 
 wards the end of the week a reception at our house. If you come, 
 you can be gay or quiet as you choose, and it will please us all to 
 consult your wishes in this respect. If I have not offered enough 
 inducement, let the pleasure your company will afford us supply 
 the rest. Indeed, we shall feel much disappointed if we cannot 
 have you. Colonel Graham insists that you must come. He says,
 
 196 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 tell Hortense that he wants a handsome girl to escort to the races. 
 We will expect you any time after to-morrow morning. Colonel 
 Graham joins me in best regards. 
 
 " Yours cordially, 
 
 "JANE GRAHAM. 
 " To Mrs. John Gilder sleeve" 
 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve thought the proposal exceedingly 
 kind, and was pleased with the attention. She gave the 
 note to Hortense to read. Mrs. Gildersleeve had come 
 to know very well this English woman, who was now 
 a thorough Southerner, and she had found her honest 
 and sincere, devoted to her family and her friends. 
 She occasionally spent the day in Carrollton with Mrs. 
 Graham, and Hortense had been repeatedly invited 
 there when any festivities were to be held. In fact, 
 the Grahams had insisted that whenever Hortense or 
 her mother was in the city shopping, they should lunch 
 with them. Mrs. Graham, a robust matron, had early 
 been attracted to the delicate little Northern woman, 
 and Julie, Maurice's sister, was devoted to Hortense. 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve was really glad of the opportunity 
 to give her daughter some diversion. The only regret 
 she connected with their country life was its quiet and 
 its lack of those things which most young women 
 enjoy. But Hortense always seemed happy and con 
 tented with her -books, her garden, her horse, and her 
 music, varying the days occasionally by running down 
 to Carrollton. 
 
 Hortense read the note, and she, as well as her 
 mother, appreciated the attention shown them ; but, 
 left to herself, she would never have accepted the invi 
 tation. In the Grahams' house she would be thrown 
 in daily contact with Maurice ; and of late he had
 
 A VISIT AND 7TS CONSEQUENCES. 197 
 
 seemed to avoid her. True, he had not discontinued 
 his visits, but they had become very infrequent. His 
 whole manner had changed toward her, and she had 
 quickly detected a slight lack of cordiality, and a re 
 serve that she had never noticed before she told him 
 her secret. Also, she missed in his demeanor the 
 former very evident desire to please her even in the 
 merest details ; and she easily understood the air of 
 gaiety that he assumed in her company. She believed 
 that he loved her ; she had seen it, in various ways, too 
 clearly to be mistaken ; and she could not help feeling 
 a little of the pride so natural to her sex, at the thought 
 of her influence over this man, whom so many women 
 courted. But it was here that Hortense erred, as many 
 other women have done before. She did not know 
 him as well as she imagined. She might cause him 
 pain and sorrow ; she might cast a shadow over the 
 greater portion of his life ; but if Maurice Graham 
 once saw that his love was hopeless, he was not the 
 man to waste his strength in useless repining after 
 the first fever of disappointment was over. Though 
 he would probably never be reconciled, his strong 
 character and his pride could lead him to choose but 
 the one path. No matter how keenly he might suffer 
 sometimes, the knowledge that she loved and was be 
 trothed to another man would forever keep him silent. 
 But she was not mistaken as to his feelings toward 
 her ; the coquettish impulse was but momentary with 
 her, and she respected the man and his motives 
 because they were lofty. So she sought neither his 
 presence nor his attentions, knowing how unpleasant it 
 would be to both to meet every day for a week in the 
 intimate intercourse of family life.
 
 198 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 "What will you do, mother ?" asked she. "Will 
 you accept ? " 
 
 " I suppose we should do so, Hortense. It will show 
 too little appreciation to refuse, and you know they 
 have been very kind to us. I dare say the change will 
 be pleasant. Suppose we go down on Monday morn 
 ing ? " 
 
 Hortense assented without a word of objection. 
 She was always glad to please either of her parents, 
 and she would not have even hinted her wishes to the 
 contrary if she thought her mother desired to go. The 
 latter, however, really had little wish to leave her 
 home, except for the fact that she liked the Grahams. 
 In accepting the invitation, she desired only to afford 
 some amusement to Hortense. Each sacrificed her 
 own wishes for the fancied pleasure of the other. Mrs. 
 Gildersleeve wrote an answer, stating they would 
 come down on Monday. 
 
 The two duly arrived in Carrollton. They were 
 warmly received in the easy manner of Southern hos 
 pitality, and were soon made comfortable. The resi 
 dence of the Grahams, built after a by-gone style of 
 architecture, was situated on one of the old aristocratic 
 streets, and with its large garden, dense in shrubbery 
 and almost surrounding the house, it made a pile as 
 imposing as a grand castle of old. There were not a 
 few such buildings, which gave an antique appearance 
 to the city. 
 
 Monday evening Hortense went with Maurice and 
 Julie to the fair. The next day she viewed the parade 
 of the Rifle Clubs, and as she saw Maurice ride by on a 
 dark bay charger alongside his company, in the uni 
 form of a lieutenant of dragoons, the girl thought it
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 199 
 
 no wonder that the South had been able to wage such 
 a war, with men like him as warriors and captains. 
 Then she went to the boat-racing, met a great many 
 people, got very hot and tired, and was glad when 
 evening drew near. But she was interested in the next 
 day's programme. There was to be a yachting race in 
 the afternoon, and Maurice's boat, the "Ella," had 
 been entered for the contest. Ever since the day of 
 the shipwreck, she had been interested in the sloop, 
 and it is quite possible that the ownership of the boat 
 had something to do with her interest. At any rate, 
 she was anxious to see the race, and she hoped that 
 Maurice would win. Colonel Graham was to be one 
 of the judges, and he collected a party of young people 
 who all met on board the steamer of the regatta asso 
 ciation. Soon after they left the pier a gun was fired, 
 the yachts slipped their cables and started out for sea, 
 with a host of boats, small and large, in their wake. 
 As the steamer moved down the harbor, Hortense saw 
 again those old battered forts whose ruins recalled so 
 many historic events, and she shuddered a little as she 
 remembered that dreadful morning off Carrollton Bar, 
 and thought how the shipwreck might have resulted. 
 
 But the yachts were nearing the bar, and under full 
 panoply of white canvas they presented a beautiful 
 sight, with their wings stretched to the breeze. The 
 " Ella " was third in position. Hortense perceived 
 this, with a feeling of disappointment. Suddenly the 
 leading yacht, gracefully rounding a buoy, turned and 
 pointed her bow straight up the bay. The steamer 
 swerved from the course and awaited the boats, now 
 on the home-stretch. A few minutes later, the " Ella " 
 turned also, her topsail was flung out, and as the little
 
 200 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 boat again felt the stiff east wind, which enabled her 
 to show her greatest speed, her gunnels bent low down 
 in the water, and she dashed furiously after her com 
 petitors. Shouts of encouragement saluted the yachts 
 as they came up to the steamer, and Hortense, looking 
 down as the " Ella " swept by, could see Maurice Gra 
 ham in his nautical costume seated at the wheel. His 
 earnest countenance was darkened by that stern expres 
 sion which it always bore when he was under excite 
 ment. Glancing up for a moment, he acknowledged 
 with a slight bow the greeting from the steamer's 
 decks. Then the " Ella " carried him swiftly away. 
 Hortense thought his face the most interesting she 
 had ever seen. The steamer turned and pursued the 
 flying yachts. Hortense followed the " Ella " with her 
 eyes, and gradually she saw the boat creep up and gain 
 the second place. Then she seemed to overtake 
 the first yacht ; but Hortense could not tell which 
 was ahead. The report of a gun soon after 
 wards announced that one of the yachts had passed 
 the line, and some minutes later Hortense heard that 
 the "Ella" had won. She really felt happy over the 
 victory. 
 
 That evening she happened to be alone with Mau 
 rice for a few minutes, and she congratulated him. 
 How could one, she thought, fail to admire him, who 
 was as gentle as a woman, and yet possessed of all the 
 graces and strength of manhood ; who was so affable, 
 yet earnest and thoughtful, and so successful in all 
 that he undertook ! He flushed a little at her congrat 
 ulation, and answered quietly, that he was very fond of 
 the sport, that the " Ella " was his sweetheart. Then 
 she was sorry that she had said anything, because she
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 201 
 
 saw that her simple words had given too much pleasure, 
 and sometimes pleasure is mingled with pain. 
 
 Next evening the Grahams held their reception, and 
 during the morning hours Hortense assisted in the 
 floral decorations of the house, the first two floors of 
 which were to be throw open for the accommodation 
 of the guests. On the second floor were the two spa 
 cious and richly furnished parlors, whose walls bore 
 some old family portraits and many choice paintings 
 brought over from Europe before the war. In front, 
 these parlors looked out upon the garden which lay 
 between the house and the street, and on the opposite 
 side they opened through high arched doorways to the 
 center hall, in which was the grand staircase of walnut 
 leading to the stories above. Beyond were the sitting 
 room, the billiard saloon, and Colonel Graham's library ; 
 a piazza ran around two sides of the house, on the south 
 and the west. The first, or basement, floor, contained 
 the dining-room, a smoking-room, a rather broad cor 
 ridor, and a pantry. At the rear of the corridor, and 
 next to the smoking apartment, was a room used by 
 Maurice. This room had only the one entrance from 
 the corridor ; but it opened upon a small flagged court 
 yard, which was partially roofed by the piazza, above, 
 and was separated by a brick fence from the lane con 
 necting the kitchen and stable yards with the street. 
 In the court were two rustic benches, one of which 
 was placed close to the wall of the house and imme 
 diately beneath a window. 
 
 About half past eight in the evening, the guests 
 began to arrive. At nine the parlors were well filled, 
 and people were still streaming in. Hortense never 
 looked better in her life. She was richly but plainly
 
 202 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 dressed, in the manner of people who know how to 
 dress well ; and she and her mother assisted the Gra 
 hams in receiving the company. A few of the people 
 remained only for an exchange of brief civilities ; but 
 at ten o'clock the parlor floor was still crowded, while 
 groups were continually coming and going from the 
 refreshment tables. Under that roof was some of the 
 best blood in the State, even though much of it was 
 somewhat poverty-stricken. All were not as fortunate 
 as Colonel Graham, or as Mr. Francis Gravoir, whose 
 practice yielded him a good living ; there were many 
 present, like General Gravoir and Major Mixon, born 
 to wealth and social power, whose affluence was now 
 gone. It is almost pitiful to watch the pride that affects 
 unconcern while the pain of want is gnawing at the 
 heart, and the vain struggle to keep up appearances 
 under adversity, which people of fallen fortunes sel 
 dom fail to exhibit. Even though many may have 
 had to deny themselves actual necessaries in order to 
 be present this evening, and perhaps some had not a 
 spare dollar in their pockets, they plastered their 
 bleeding vanity with the foolish sophistry that blood, 
 not money, creates society, and they will not admit 
 that the receding tide leaves them stranded higher each 
 day. 
 
 Hortense had just risen from the piano, where, at 
 the request of several young men, she had been sing 
 ing a couple of songs. Chatting for a few minutes, 
 she excused herself and walked over to a scfa on 
 which Mrs. Mixon was sitting. Hortense liked this lit 
 tle woman, with whom she had exchanged some visits. 
 Mrs. Mixon seemed quite devoted to her husband, but 
 she was always troubled and anxious about his wel-
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 203 
 
 fare, and Hortense guessed that the constant fret and 
 worry of pecuniary embarrassments were beginning to 
 sour a temper naturally sweet. So she sympathized 
 with Mrs. Mixon, who had begun to look upon this 
 Northern girl as one of her best friends. Since his 
 wife had conceived a fondness for her, Major Mixon 
 had made it a point to be very gallant toward Hor 
 tense ; but she endured him merely for appearance's 
 sake. She did not like him ; she thought him often 
 inconsiderate of his already overburdened wife and 
 in Hortense's eyes nothing could excuse that fault. 
 
 She had been talking to Mrs. Mixon only a few 
 minutes, when the Major approached them. At once 
 drawing up a chair, he sat down and began to 
 monopolize the conversation, as he usually did. He 
 was a very humorous man when in the mood, and he 
 possessed a fund of anecdote and jokes, although 
 occasionally one of the latter would slip out which was 
 not altogether sans reproche. He began now to talk in 
 a boisterous tone. Hortense was at first annoyed, as 
 she had intended a quiet chat with Mrs. Mixon. Then 
 she thought that perhaps he had been taking too much 
 wine which was really the case. The Major seldom 
 drank to excess ; but on a festive week, such as this 
 had been, he was apt to imbibe just enough to render 
 him too lively to please a fastidious person like Hor 
 tense. One or two young men, seeing Mixon, stopped 
 to listen to his talk. Another came up, and Hortense 
 perceived that she and the Major would soon be the 
 center of a group in which he was addressing his 
 remarks chiefly to her. This she did not intend should 
 happen ; so, as he finished his story, she rose and said 
 with a charming smile :
 
 204 THE SHADOW OF THE WAK. 
 
 " Major, I am so tired of sitting down, and I would 
 really like to promenade. Won't you lend me your 
 arm ? " 
 
 The Major was delighted. He sprang instantly to 
 his feet, and with a bow and a smirk intended to be 
 very gallant, but, in truth, rather ridiculous, he 
 announced himself at her service. Taking his proffered 
 arm, she led him away, glad indeed to get out of the 
 group which was beginning to form. But now the 
 trouble was to rid herself of him. Thinking that per 
 haps she might divert his attention to the supper-table, 
 she invited him to go down, to which he readily agreed. 
 But reaching there, the Major did not want anything 
 except a glass of wine ; and then she was anxious to 
 draw him away, thinking he had drank enough already. 
 Finally they were promenading the corridor. Seeing a 
 door open, she entered with him, and found herself in 
 a room containing a desk, a book-case, a table littered 
 with papers, a few chairs, and some pictures. She had 
 never been in the room before. 
 
 "This is Maurice's study," explained Major Mixon. 
 " Come on ; there's a nice place outside where we can 
 sit and talk." 
 
 She wanted to return, but Mixon insisted. So she 
 followed, more to please and keep him quiet than 
 otherwise. They entered the court, and as soon as 
 they were seated on the bench beneath the window, 
 Mixon renewed his jokes. When at last he began 
 relating a plantation tale, of how he had once punished 
 some negroes, Hortense's patience was exhausted. 
 She could bear him no more ; the story was blood 
 curdling to her. Jumping up, she exclaimed : 
 
 " I will not listen to such a horrible thing ! "
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 205 
 
 Then she turned and fled through the room to the 
 corridor. At the door she met Maurice and a man 
 unknown to her. The former hoped that he was not 
 disturbing her. 
 
 "Oh, no," she answered; "I was just passing 
 through, and stopped to glance around." 
 
 Maurice explained that he would offer to show her 
 his library, but that he had some important business 
 with the gentleman accompanying him. Hortense 
 bowed, and passed down the corridor, in the confusion 
 of the meeting forgetting all about Mixon. 
 
 Maurice entered the room with his companion. 
 He first closed and locked the door, and then said : 
 
 " I am quite curious, Mr. Wiltern, to know what can 
 be this plan of yours to capture that negro 'Nezzar. 
 Major Mixon, for one, would be delighted to know." 
 
 " That's just the point, Mr. Graham," returned 
 Wiltern. " Major Mixon must not get the least inkling 
 of the plan ; he would spoil everything." 
 
 Hortense had left Mixon so abruptly that he did 
 not realize her departure until she was gone. His first 
 impulse was to follow, and he rose from the bench. At 
 that moment he heard Maurice talking to her, and he 
 supposed that some of the young men were coming 
 into the library to smoke. Miss Gildersleeve could go, 
 he thought ; he would join the boys and have a good 
 time. 
 
 But just then he heard Maurice close and lock the 
 door ; and the latter's words, together with the reply 
 of his companion whose voice he recognized as that 
 of the county sheriff, fell quite audibly upon his ears. 
 In an instant he realized that a conversation was about 
 to be held in which he would be deeply interested. He
 
 20(5 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 never remembered his obligations as a guest ; but with 
 all the passion and savagery of his nature at once 
 aroused, he forgot everything but his injuries and his 
 thirst for revenge. So he noiselessly laid himself down 
 on the bench with his head close to the window, whose 
 shutters were drawn loosely together. If discovered, 
 he could pretend to be asleep. 
 
 " We can not be overheard here, I suppose ? "asked 
 the sheriff ; " and we are free from interruption ? " 
 
 " Perfectly so," returned Maurice. " The family 
 gave me this room as a study because it is off by 
 itself. Outside is a little court-yard, fenced around." 
 Maurice walked to the door and looked out. All was 
 darkness there, save for the gleam of light on the wall 
 opposite the door. Satisfied, he returned, and going 
 to the book-case, opened a drawer and took out a 
 box of cigars. Each lit one, and then they seated 
 themselves in comfortable chairs near Maurice's desk, 
 which was only a few feet from the window. 
 
 "You remember," began the sheriff, "when I saw 
 you in the morning and made the appointment for this 
 evening, I expressed my regrets at intruding business 
 on your gaieties. It was impossible for me to make 
 all my arrangements earlier. I wasn't sure then of the 
 plan I wished to lay before you, and if that plan is to 
 be executed, it is necessary that I should explain all to 
 you to-night." 
 
 " No excuses are necessary," answered Maurice ; 
 " I am ready for business at any time." 
 
 The sheriff continued : " Well, you remember 
 about that trouble last November up at Mixon's plan 
 tation ? You were there at the time, I believe." Mau 
 rice nodded an assent. " You know that Mixon has
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 207 
 
 been hunting for 'Nezzar ever since. The poor devil 
 has had a dog's life." 
 
 " But didn't he leave the State ? " interrupted Mau 
 rice. 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! Mixon thinks so, but he has 
 never been out of the county. The fellow has hidden 
 and lived in the swamps whenever Mixon was on the 
 trail, and the other negroes have carefully guarded his 
 hiding places and furnished him regularly with food. 
 You know how devoted they are to one of their num 
 ber when he is under a cloud. But this sort of thing 
 can not go on forever. The man is tired of the game, 
 and he is anxious to surrender himself for trial. But 
 he will not do so unless he is satisfied of his safety 
 until lodged in jail. I get all these facts from that 
 preacher, Tomkins, who is acting as 'Nezzar's agent. 
 The plan I wish to propose is that you should make 
 the arrest with some of your dragoon company. I 
 have seen your captain, and he orders the detail if you 
 agree." Here the sheriff handed Maurice a sheet of 
 paper confirming his last words. " Collect some of 
 your men, say twenty, such as you can depend on, to 
 act as a posse, and at a certain locality meet 'Nezzar 
 and bring him to town." 
 
 " But why should you select me for such an un 
 pleasant duty ? " queried Maurice. 
 
 " Becaase," answered the sheriff, " for one reason, I 
 know I can depend on you. It will require some little 
 address to effect this arrest. The bird can be easily 
 scared off. Another reason is that I want men from 
 your company for the posse. They all have horses, 
 are under discipline, and the affair can be managed 
 quietly without any fuss. Of course, I can collect a 
 O
 
 208 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 posse off the streets, but you know what riff-raff they 
 would be, good enough as long as they're in the city, 
 with policemen every few squares. If Mixon was 
 to get wind of the affair he would not hesitate to 
 charge down on such men with some of his dare-devil 
 riders, and then what a display of heels there would 
 be ! But he would not undertake to interfere with 
 you and the dragoons. Your captain doesn't object 
 to the use of the men, but he is too old for this duty, 
 which naturally falls on you, the first lieutenant." 
 
 For some moments Maurice did not reply. He was 
 thinking that the arguments the sheriff had used were 
 reasonable enough, and that it would be selfish to 
 refuse. But to go on a nigger-hunt ! What a dis 
 agreeable job ! 
 
 " All this difficulty," said he, " which you have in 
 getting an effective posse comes from one fact: your 
 party restricts the ranks of the militia to the negroes, 
 and when there is work to be done requiring intelli 
 gence, nerve and discipline, you have to rely on us and 
 our Rifle Clubs, whom otherwise you will not recognize 
 except as bloody-shirt marauders." 
 
 Mr. Wiltern said nothing ; he looked down and 
 twirled his fingers. He was intelligent, and, in the 
 main, a good man ; but he was deplorably weak and 
 completely under Sharpe's control. 
 
 Maurice immediately felt that his words were 
 ungenerous, for, although true and just, they were neither 
 in proper time nor place. So he quickly continued: 
 
 "But I beg your pardon. My thoughts led me 
 astray ; I did not intend giving you a political lecture. 
 I will accept the trust, but it is very distasteful. State 
 your final instructions ; I will make a note of them."
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 209 
 
 He turned in the revolving chair and opened his 
 desk. 
 
 The sheriff had brightened up considerably. Mau 
 rice's acquiescence relieved him of a good deal of 
 responsibility. 
 
 " I felt sure you would see the matter in the right 
 light," he said. " The instructions are these: Pick 
 out fifteen or twenty of your best men, armed with 
 their sabres and revolvers. Order them to rendezvous 
 to-morrow night at ten o'clock in the timber just 
 
 beyond the three-mile house on the M road. 
 
 Your men must leave the city singly, or at the most in 
 couples. Too many together will attract attention, 
 you know. Should any hint get out of what you are 
 after, you might ^gather a crowd on your heels, and not 
 being able to control them, they might make trouble 
 for you. Don't tell the men about your plans, but be 
 sure to impress upon them the necessity of keeping to 
 themselves the fact that there is to be a secret expedi 
 tion. As I have said, pick out only those men on 
 whose discretion you can rely. My deputy will accom 
 pany your troop, but he doesn't know the nature of the 
 affair, and will be completely under your command. 
 When you have collected your men, proceed until you 
 come to the second fork, about two miles from Mixon's 
 plantation, as you know. Make a halt there. Leave 
 your troop,' with orders to keep quiet, and go on alone, 
 afoot, for about a quarter of a mile I think, until you 
 come to that lagoon called Lover's Lake. 'Nezzar will 
 meet you there at twelve o'clock and deliver himself 
 up. Take him back to your men, and mount him on 
 a spare horse which the deputy will have. You should 
 reach the lake by twelve, and return to the city by
 
 210 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 three at least. I will meet you at the jail. Don't take 
 your men up to the lake ; unless the negro first meets 
 some one whom he recognizes, their numbers and arms 
 would frighten him away. I think I have explained 
 everything. Is it all clear ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," answered Maurice. " If the negro 
 keeps the appointment I will have him in the city by 
 three o'clock Sunday morning." 
 
 " I will not detain you any longer," said Wiltern, 
 rising. " I know you have other duties just now." 
 
 Maurice rose also, handed him his hat, and unlock 
 ing the door, the two went out into the corridor. No 
 sooner were they gone than Mixon jumped up from 
 the bench and walked quickly to the brick wall, which 
 reached only to his chin. Placing his two hands on 
 the top, he drew himself up and vaulted lightly over 
 on the other side. Then he ran rapidly down the lane 
 to the street. Reaching that, he passed quickly to the 
 front entrance, where he turned into the garden and 
 walked leisurely towards the house. His movements 
 had been made with such celerity that he met Maurice 
 and the sheriff coming out. 
 
 " Hello ! " he cried jocularly. u A lawyer and a 
 sheriff together ! There must be trouble brewing for 
 some one ! " 
 
 '' Yes, we are making arrangements for a grand 
 entertainment at the court-house," answered Wiltern. 
 *' I invite you to be present ; don't forget, Major ! " 
 and the two passed on. 
 
 "The devil take me if I forget!" muttered Mixon, 
 between his set teeth. 
 
 Entering the house, he sought his wife and asked
 
 A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 211 
 
 her if it was not time to leave. A few minutes later, 
 the two departed. Next morning Mixon took the 
 train which left the city at five o'clock and arrived in 
 Belleville before six. All that day his private affairs 
 engaged his close attention.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE EXPEDITION. 
 
 NEXT day, at breakfast, Maurice asked his father 
 to loan him one of the family horses for the 
 morning. 
 
 ''Certainly," answered Colonel Graham; "but what 
 is the matter with Satan ? Is he a little more wicked 
 than usual?" 
 
 *' No, he is as spiteful as ever ; but I have work for 
 him later in the day." 
 
 Satan was Maurice's horse. Two summers previous 
 he had made a business visit to a small Kentucky 
 town, and while sitting one afternoon on the hotel 
 porch, he was attracted by the sight of a man vainly 
 endeavoring to mount a large and splendid-looking 
 bay horse, whose whole frame quivered with the ex 
 citement of resistance. A negro held him by a halter, 
 and was doing his utmost to keep the animal from 
 biting the one who was trying to mount. At times the 
 man, adroitly avoiding the horse's kicks as well as his 
 bites, would get his foot into the stirrup and be almost 
 in the saddle, when the vicious animal, suddenly 
 bounding to one side, would shake him violently off. 
 Maurice was immediately interested. He went out to 
 the group, and with the permission of the men, he 
 grasped the bridle in one hand ; with the other he 
 seized the horse's under lip close to the jaw and held 
 
 (212)
 
 THE EXPEDITION. 
 
 it tightly with his utmost strength. The horse reared 
 once and pawed at him ; but Maurice, actively jump 
 ing aside, avoided the hoofs, and retained his hold 
 with an unflinching grip that threatened to tear the 
 flesh from the bone. When the animal again landed 
 on his four feet, he was momentarily conquered, and 
 the man leaped easily into the saddle. But as soon as 
 Maurice released him, the horse gave an indignant 
 snort ; then he bucked, and plunged, and foamed, and 
 fought the air with his hoofs, but all to no avail ; his 
 rider managed to stay in the saddle. Maurice was 
 fascinated ; he examined the animal critically, con 
 cluded he was a magnificent specimen, and offered to 
 buy him. That evening the purchase was completed, 
 and the next day the horse was shipped to Carrollton. 
 Ever since his arrival at Colonel Graham's stable, he 
 had been the terror of the other two horses, and of the 
 negro coachman, who would repeatedly say: 
 
 " I nebber did see no sich hoss as dat Satan! He'll 
 kill Mass Maurice some day sure's a gun, ef he don't 
 tek care!" 
 
 No one ever attempted to ride Satan except 
 Maurice ; but the horse, although he now knew his 
 master well, seldom permitted even him to indulge in 
 any familiarity. At times it was hard work for 
 Maurice to manage him ; but with the aid of a severe 
 bit, he generally succeeded in subduing his thoroughly 
 rebellious temper. The horse was also vicious to an 
 extreme degree. Many men would not dare to venture 
 near him ; but Maurice took a delight in bending the 
 animal's spirit to his will. To see the magnificent 
 brute under excitement, one could hardly help think 
 ing, that if he had lived in some olden time and had
 
 214 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 borne a doughty warrior clad in mail, his savage in 
 stincts would have given him a keen relish for a hand- 
 to-hand combat in which his hoofs could have dealt 
 out death as mercilessly as the battle-axe of his 
 master. 
 
 Breakfast over, Maurice mounted one of his 
 father's horses and rode to his office, where he was 
 busy until after nine o'clock. Then he sought the 
 office of Messrs. George Graham & Co., and had a 
 short conversation with his father. Leaving the latter, 
 Maurice beckoned Ned Gravoir, his former com 
 panion on the fishing excursion, to follow him outside. 
 Gravoir was a cotton classifier in Colonel Graham's 
 employ. Although he was not the intellectual equal of 
 Maurice Graham, yet the two were devoted friends. 
 Edward Gravoir was simply a whole-souled, energetic 
 young fellow, who admired Maurice intensely; and the 
 latter recognized in him an abundance of certain 
 qualities which produced congeniality. In all their 
 out-door sports, hunting, fishing, or boating, the tastes 
 of the two were exactly alike. 
 
 As soon as they were on the side-walk, Maurice 
 spoke to his companion for a few minutes in a low 
 tone, finally saying: 
 
 " Now, you must see at once these men whose 
 names are on this slip, and give them the instructions. 
 Father knows that I want you for a matter of import 
 ance, and, besides, business is dull just now. So you 
 can go at once, and report to me at my office by 
 twelve o'clock." 
 
 Gravoir nodded acquiescence. " It's a very myste 
 rious affair, a dead secret, I suppose," he ventured,
 
 THE EXPEDITION. 215 
 
 curiously. Receiving no answer, he added, " but of 
 course it is all right if you're in command." 
 
 Without replying, Maurice turned, and mounting 
 his horse, rode away. Up to eleven o'clock he was 
 very busy paying visits and holding confidential inter 
 views. When these were finished he went home, left 
 his horse at the stable, and walked down to his office. 
 At twelve, Ned Gravoir entered. Maurice looked up 
 inquiringly. 
 
 " R is sick, and P goes away this evening 
 
 on business. The other four I was ordered to summon 
 will be on hand to-night," said Gravoir. 
 
 Maurice took a list of names out of his pocket and 
 made a few changes. He could rely on sixteen out of 
 the twenty men summoned for the night's service ; 
 they were enough, he thought. 
 
 Soon after Gravoir had gone, Maurice walked over 
 to the sheriff's office and informed him that all his 
 arrangements had been effected. He now only awaited 
 the coming of the night. 
 
 The M road is a broad thoroughfare leading 
 
 out of the city. On either side, for some distance, it is 
 lined with " truck " farms whereon the luscious straw 
 berry and early vegetables are cultivated, to tempt the 
 Northern palate ere the snow and ice have melted in 
 the colder clime. About three miles from the city on 
 this road is a large frame house, with a watering-trough 
 on the outside and a saloon within. Here the weary 
 beast slakes his thirst, and the teamster orders his 
 " whiskey straight ; " or the negro, for a nickel, makes 
 his noon-day meal off a loaf of bread, split down the 
 middle and thickly coated with molasses. Just beyond
 
 216 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 this " Traveller's Rest " is the piece of timber, bound 
 ing both sides of the road for several hundred yards, 
 which the sheriff had named as the rendezvous for the 
 posse. 
 
 The appointed hour was almost nigh, but all was 
 still and quiet in the neighborhood. Though the night 
 was fair, and the newly risen moon lit up the road in a 
 flood of rays, the casual observer would have noticed 
 nothing to attract attention. The barking of some 
 farmer's dog, or the tipsy laugh and song floating out 
 upon the air from the saloon, the rumbling of a belated 
 market wagon, were common Saturday night occur 
 rences. But in the shadow of the timber, a few yards 
 from the road, were a number of mounted men quietly 
 waiting for further orders. They were mostly young 
 men, dressed in citizen's garb ; but all were well armed. 
 Their orders were imperative to maintain quiet ; but 
 evidently they were a merry set of fellows, for occa 
 sionally the subdued laugh, excited by some joke or 
 witticism, would pass around and mingle with the 
 sabre's jingle as a restive horse changed his position. 
 
 " Why can't you tell about the job, Gravoir ? Where 
 are we going? You and Graham are such chums, of 
 course he has told you," said one in the crowd. 
 
 " I am not a bit wiser than you," answered Gravoir. 
 " I hinted this morning that the affair seemed mysteri 
 ous, but he only gave me a glance which meant ' Mind 
 your own business ! ' ' 
 
 " I wonder if some political scheme is on hand ? " 
 queried another. 
 
 "Are the niggers rising anywhere ? " 
 
 " Well, whatever it is, if anything goes wrong, the
 
 THE EXPEDITION. 
 
 Rifle Clubs are sure to be blamed, as usual," remarked 
 the philosopher of the company. 
 
 "Oh, if Graham is in charge you may be sure the 
 thing is regular. He is such a devilish prudent, legal- 
 minded fellow, I'd follow him anywhere." 
 
 " Here he comes now, on that infernal horse of his," 
 cried one on the edge of the group, as he saw two 
 horsemen cantering rapidly up the road. A minute or 
 so later, Maurice, accompanied by the deputy-sheriff, 
 rode into the timber, on Satan, whose first act when 
 reined up was to salute the nearest horse with a kick. 
 The rider of this assaulted animal cried out in alarm : 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Graham ! look after your 
 horse ! " 
 
 " How can he ride such a beast ! " muttered Gra- 
 voir, hastily jerking back his steed, as Satan's 
 heels were now turned in his direction Satan was 
 evidently quite playful to-night, for missing aim in his 
 first attempt, he began cavorting about and seeking 
 new opportunities for kicking. Very soon the Lieu 
 tenant was left alone in the center of a circle with the 
 men on the outside. Maurice chuckled, and leaning 
 over the pommel he patted his fretting horse, ostensi 
 bly to soothe him, but in reality because he was de 
 lighted. The men whom he commanded were mili 
 tia only in form. They received no legal recognition 
 as such, and were under no obligations except those of 
 individual agreement. Besides, they were all the social 
 equals of their officers ; two facts which often threat 
 ened to conflict sadly with discipline. Few young 
 men, without military prestige, could maintain author 
 ity in such an organization and yet avoid giving of 
 fence. Maurice Graham had no such prestige ; still,
 
 218 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 he was not only one of the most efficient, but also one 
 of the most popular, young officers of the Carrollton 
 Rifle Clubs ; and Satan contributed not a little to his 
 success. If he had ridden a quiet and amiable horse, 
 the men would have pressed around him in easy fellow 
 ship, with numerous questions. But Satan had quickly 
 asserted his presence, and, as usual, had made that 
 presence so very disagreeable, that all the troopers, 
 thoroughly disgusted, quickly retired to a respectful 
 distance. Whether on a march or at a drill, Satan's 
 heels and teeth always preserved his master's dignity 
 from undue familiarity. 
 
 " Good-evening, gentlemen," said Maurice, as soon 
 as he had quieted his horse. " You must excuse my 
 horse's bad manners ; nothing will ever conquer his 
 
 unbearable viciousness How many men 
 
 are here, orderly ? " 
 
 " Sixteen," answered Gravior 
 
 " Attention ! " cried Graham. " This squad has been 
 ordered on duty, to act as a sheriffs posse to effect an 
 arrest. The deputy sheriff will accompany us. Any 
 one who does not wish to go can return at once. Fall 
 in by twos ; no noise ! " 
 
 The men obeyed without a word, and Maurice 
 placed himself at the head of the column, taking care, 
 however, to keep Satan's heels beyond temptation. 
 The squad passed out of the timber and moved up the 
 road at an easy gallop, with the deputy in the rear 
 leading a spare horse. 
 
 For about an hour and a half the troop pressed 
 steadily forward, at times the galloping being changed 
 to a walk ; but the horses were not allowed to lose 
 much time. Occasionally the road led through culti-
 
 THE EXPEDITION. 219 
 
 vated lands ; but more frequently the forest and jungle 
 were so thick on either side and overhead as to com 
 pletely obscure the light of the moon. In a turn of 
 the road they passed a negro who stood with gaping 
 mouth at sight of so many armed men at this time of the 
 night. Maurice wished that the work was done, for 
 his task grew more disagreeable with each mile he left 
 behind. Once or twice the monotonous hooting of an 
 Owl sounded close upon their ears ; and some of the 
 men laughingly joked about the negro superstition that 
 the cry of an owl portends death. Maurice was far 
 from being a superstitious man, but somehow the mer 
 riment of his comrades grated harshly upon him to 
 night, and he had an uneasy feeling, unaccountable, 
 and yet he could not shake it off. It was almost with 
 sensations of relief that he perceived the march draw 
 ing to an end ; and presently, on reaching the fork, the 
 men were halted. Here a narrow wagon track, seldom 
 used, branched off to the left and ran along the banks 
 of a small creek for over a quarter of a mile until it 
 met the lagoon called Lover's Lake. Winding around 
 this small body of water, it continued on through a 
 swamp and connected with another road along the 
 river side. The men having been drawn up in line, 
 Maurice explained clearly but briefly the object of the 
 expedition. During his absence they were to maintain 
 perfect order ; if he needed assistance, a pistol-shot 
 would summon them at once. Dismounting, he tied 
 Satan securely to a tree, and taking from one of the 
 holsters a heavy Colt's revolver, started on his errand.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 MAURICE walked rapidly, for it was now near 
 midnight, the time at which he was to meet 
 the negro. A person not familiar with this road would 
 find much difficulty in following its course at such an 
 hour ; the trees around, with their undergrowth of 
 bushes and matting of vines, are so thick that the 
 light of the moon scarcely penetrates the darkness. 
 After leaving the main road, Maurice could hardly see 
 a few feet ahead. But he had often hunted over this 
 same region ; the hounds frequently ran a fox into 
 this swamp, and it was one of the best drives in the 
 country to start a deer in ; so, groping along / he felt 
 no hesitation about finding the way. All was still, save 
 for the insectile murmur of a great forest, or the 
 crackling of twigs as they were crushed beneath his 
 tread. Once he stumbled over a root, but he rose 
 without injury. At another time, in a bend, he missed 
 the track and became entangled among some bushes. 
 Retracing his steps, he found the road again, and then 
 proceeded more cautiously. 'Nezzar, thought he, could 
 not have chosen a safer retreat. 
 
 Suddenly the light of the moon broke out full upon 
 him, and he found himself in a small open space beside 
 a sheet of dark, murky water. This lake, or rather 
 pool, had received its name from an old tradition that 
 
 (220)
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 two unhappy Indian lovers had sought in its repulsive 
 depths release from the trammels of their existence. 
 A huge pine tree had fallen across its surface, and to 
 the nimble-footed constituted a safe bridge. Maurice 
 sat down on a stump and listened. He saw no one, 
 heard nothing ; his watch-hand pointed to ten minutes 
 of twelve, and he was about concluding that he would 
 have to wait patiently for a time, when suddenly he 
 was startled by a voice exclaiming : 
 
 " Who's dat ? Who's you, white man ? Is yer Massa 
 Graham?" 
 
 " Yes, I am Mr. Graham. Is that you, 'Nezzar ? 
 Where are you ? " 
 
 " Nebber yer min', white man, who I am, or where 
 I's yar. Stan' up an' lemme see yer." 
 
 Maurice complied, and stood out in the bright moon 
 light. A moment or two after, as if satisfied with his 
 scrutiny, 'Nezzar emerged from the bushes. 
 
 " I am glad to see you are on time. Are you ready 
 to go to Carrollton, 'Nezzar ? " 
 
 " Yes, I is," answered the negro. " But Massa Gra 
 ham, de Major dunno nuffin 'bout dis chile, do he? " 
 
 " Nothing at all," was the innocent reply. 
 
 " An' is yer got dem 'coon men ob yourn ready ? " 
 
 " Yes, the dragoons are waiting for us at the fork of 
 the road. Come on ; keep close behind." 
 
 The two started, and entered the dark road. The 
 bend, where he had before lost his path, was soon 
 reached, and as he was turning Maurice heard the 
 bushes violently thrust aside. Somewhat startled, he 
 stopped, and the next instant he was thrown to the 
 ground. He struggled to rise, but his sabre had fallen 
 between his legs, and before he could gain a footing,
 
 222 THE SHADCW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the body of a man fell '.icavily upon him, and his throat 
 was clutched by two iron hands. A moment more, his 
 mouth being violently pried open by some one whom 
 he could not see, a Leavy gag of coarse cloth was 
 forced in. Maurice gathered himself up for one more 
 desperate effort for release ; there was a brief strug 
 gle, his assailants forced him to the earth again, and he 
 had to realize his helplessness. He tried to cry out, 
 but his tongue was unable to do its work, and he could 
 only utter a low, inarticulate sound. Then he was 
 conscious of a rope being passed around his body ; 
 some one lifted him up ; his arms were securely fas 
 tened, and his feet were hobbled. 
 
 The moment Maurice had fallen, 'Nezzar turned to 
 flee; but he heard the click of a pistol close to his face, 
 and the cold, pitiless blade of a knife was laid across 
 his throat. 
 
 " If you say a word, you're a dead nigger, 'Nezzar!" 
 some one hissed in his ear. The negro moved not a 
 step, nor uttered a word ; and completely bewildered, 
 he submitted to the fastenings which were passed 
 around his body. Maurice was conscious of the pres 
 ence of a number of men, but he heard no voices. He 
 felt them loosen his sabre-belt, and take his pistol from 
 his coat pocket. Then they led him and his late pris 
 oner back until the lake was almost reached. But evi 
 dently the captors did not propose to court his scrutiny 
 in the broad light of the moon, for directly one man 
 seized him by an arm and conducted him aside among 
 the bushes. After a little he could hear a voice, but 
 not sufficiently to identify it or distinguish the words. 
 
 After Maurice had been removed, the party passed 
 out from the wood into the open ground. Some seven
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 223 
 
 or eight men surrounded the negro. Each had on a 
 corn sack, drawn over the head, loosely confined about 
 the neck and waist, with openings for the arms, mouth 
 and eyes. It was a simple disguise ; and yet, consid 
 ering the times and surroundings, it was a most effect 
 ive one. A very large man stood beside the negro, 
 and somehow his general shape and bearing resembled 
 strikingly those of Major Mixon. 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked this Tall Figure, 
 turning upon 'Nezzar. 
 
 The voice was most unnatural. Thick, muffled, and 
 gutteral, the words seemed to come with great diffi 
 culty, and some of them were badly articulated. The 
 negro did not seem to understand, and the question 
 was repeated slowly. 
 
 " Fur de lub o' God ! whoeber yer is, boss, hab 
 mussy on dis nigger," moaned the unhappy 'Nezzar. 
 
 "Answer my question!" was sternly answered; 
 " what is your name ? " 
 
 The negro did not reply ; he only whined the more, 
 and would have fallen to the ground but for the sup 
 port of two men behind him. 
 
 " Is your name 'Nezzar ? " demanded the Tall Fig 
 ure savagely, clutching the negro by the throat and 
 drawing a pistol. 
 
 "Yes, boss ! yes ! dat's it ! My name is 'Nezzar ! " 
 was his hurried reply, as he felt the cold muzzle touch 
 his forehead ; then his knees gave way and he dropped 
 to the ground, only to be promptly jerked up. The 
 Tall Figure made a sign, and some of the men ap 
 proached. 
 
 " Take a look at him, boys ; if he is 'Nezzar, hold 
 up the right hand." 
 P
 
 224 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Each of the men peered into the negro's face, 
 and then walked away with the right hand uplifted. 
 
 " That settles the question of identity," said the 
 Tall Figure. " Did you set fire to Major Mixon's still ? " 
 addressing the negro. 
 
 " Boss, I'se gwine ter gib myself up ter de sheriff 
 an' stan' de trial ! 'Fore God I is ! Ask Massa Gra 
 ham ! " 
 
 " Yes, to be acquitted and put on the Carrollton 
 police force ! We will try you now, my buck ! Did you 
 set fire to Major Mixon's still ? " 
 
 The negro would not answer. The pistol was 
 again brought into requisition, but to no purpose. The 
 man would not say a word more, perhaps because of 
 stubbornness, but more probably because he was inca 
 pable of speaking through fright. The Tall Figure 
 beckoned to two of the men, who at once approached. 
 
 "No use fooling any longer," said he. " Examine 
 him and see if you can find any old wound." 
 
 The men proceeded to remove portions of 'Nezzar's 
 scanty clothing, until, turning up the trowsers on the 
 left leg, which was evidently a little swollen still, an old 
 half-healed wound, yet in a partially festering condi 
 tion, was disclosed, bound up in some dirty rags. Prob 
 ably Mixon's pistol ball was still in the leg. How 
 could the man have lived during the past winter ? 
 Miserable wretch as he was, would his past suffering 
 and his present condition incline the hearts of his cap 
 tors to mercy ? If they had any feeling of pity, it cer 
 tainly was not made manifest. Their proceedings 
 were deliberate, and seemed all the more brutal be 
 cause they were characterized by a quiet fixedness of 
 purpose. One man stood guard over 'Nezzar, who
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 225 
 
 had fallen an abject mass on the ground. The others 
 withdrew to a little distance, and held a short consulta 
 tion in lowered tones. Presently they appeared to 
 come to a decision ; two of the men approached the 
 unresisting 'Nezzar, fastened a gag in his mouth and 
 secured his arms and legs more tightly. Another, 
 bearing a rope, hastily climbed a tree and made it fast 
 to a bough. A horse was brought out from the bushes 
 and stationed beneath the hanging rope. 'Nezzar was 
 lifted up on the animal, and the noose was adjusted 
 about his neck. The negro shivered perceptibly as he 
 felt the cruel embrace. Two men half raised, half 
 pushed him, until he was nearly erect, and the rope 
 was drawn almost taut by the one above. 'Nezzar's 
 whole body shook, his feet slipped twice, and he would 
 have fallen from the horse's haunches except for the 
 support on either side. 
 
 " Ready ! " cried the Tall Figure. " One, two, 
 three ! " Advancing as he uttered each word, he gave 
 the horse a sharp blow from a hickory switch. With 
 a snort the animal sprang forward, and 'Nezzar dropped 
 heavily, almost touching the ground. Then the limb, 
 rebounding, jerked him high in the air. When he fell 
 again his legs twitched and were drawn up several 
 times convulsively. With this last spasm, all was over. 
 The man had paid for his crime in full. 
 
 "Come, boys, we have no time to lose," said the 
 Tall Figure, brusquely interrupting the solemn 
 quiet of the moment. " One of you go ahead and 
 release the picket down the road. Order him to make 
 tracks lively. Get your horses and scatter as soon as 
 possible; that deputy sheriff may raise hell to-night.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Make a bee-line for your homes. I will detain Gra 
 ham only a few minutes, so you had better be spry." 
 
 By this time the men were disappearing, and soon 
 they were all gone. The Tall Figure stood alone, and 
 gazed for a few moments upon 'Nezzar's dead body 
 hanging from the tree. The sight must have been a 
 pleasant one, for he uttered a low complacent chuckle. 
 But he did not linger long ; turning, he picked up 
 Maurice's sabre and pistol from the ground and entered 
 the bushes. A few steps brought him to the captive 
 and his guard. This man was dismissed with some 
 whispered words, and Maurice was alone with the Tall 
 Figure, whose outlines he could barely see. The light 
 from the moon in this forest was scarcely enough to 
 enable one to distinguish the presence of another. 
 
 " Lieutenant Graham," said the Tall Figure, " I am 
 sorry that we were obliged to handle you so roughly, 
 but we knew that a pistol in your face would not keep 
 you still. We have done you no harm, and we mean 
 you none; but we have hung the nigger. He is dead 
 as a barn door. Come, I will take you back to your 
 dragoons." 
 
 Maurice was almost dazed by these occurrences. 
 The gag was still in his mouth, and he could not have 
 spoken if he had wished. He at once perceived that 
 the voice addressing him was disguised in some way, 
 for it belonged to no man he had ever known, nor was 
 it natural. His feet having been released, Maurice 
 yielded himself, and the two walked through the wood, 
 pushing the bushes aside. In the darkness Maurice 
 could not tell where he was being led, and they walked 
 on for some time, slowly and with considerable diffi 
 culty, until the Tall Figure stopped. Ahead, through
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 227 
 
 a break in the trees, the moonlight could be seen, and 
 then Maurice knew that they were near the main road. 
 But the Tall Figure evidently had no intention of sub 
 jecting his disguise to the test of the moonlight ; the 
 gloom of the forest was more congenial than the gaze 
 of a law officer. 
 
 "Graham," said the Tall Figure, again breaking 
 the silence, " yonder is the county road. You are 
 about a quarter of a mile above the fork where your 
 troop is stationed. Give me your parole that you will 
 offer me no violence, nor attract the attention of your 
 troop until you walk down there, and I will release you 
 and restore you your arms. If you agree, nod your 
 head, and I will take your word of honor." 
 
 Maurice bowed. His sabre was immediately fast 
 ened to the belt, and the revolver placed in his pocket. 
 The gag was removed, the bonds about his arms were 
 cut, and Maurice stood a free man. He regarded his 
 companion indignantly. 
 
 " Well, sir ! " he burst forth. " I don't know who 
 you are, but if I hadn't given my word you would 
 answer for this outrage now ! " 
 
 " Pshaw, man, don't lose your temper ; we have 
 done you no harm. 'Twas the nigger we were 
 after." 
 
 " So you have hung that man! and tied me like a 
 dog ! Do you realize, sir," exclaimed Maurice, now 
 all in a blaze of passion, mingled with intense mortifi 
 cation, " that this is an outrage on my personal honor ? 
 Whoever you are, I call you a dastardly coward ! Seek 
 satisfaction when this thing blows over, if you dare ! 
 If you are a man, and not a cur, you will ! " 
 
 Maurice, hot and impatient with rage, hardly real-
 
 228 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 ized how foolish was his challenge. He waited for an 
 answer, but none came. 
 
 "Then I am to suppose," continued he, " that your 
 station in life does not accord you the title of gentle 
 man ? If I had not given you my word, I would spit 
 upon you, you low hound ! " The tone of the speaker, 
 even more than his words, conveyed the most ineffable 
 contempt. 
 
 The Tall Figure clutched his pistol nervously, and 
 for the time he was evidently taken by surprise. The 
 two stood looking full at each other. 
 
 "Graham, you are a fool," said the one at last. 
 ''What you, propose is simply impossible, as you will 
 presently see. It is your personal vanity that is 
 touched ; I didn't believe you would go on so wildly 
 over a dead nigger. I do not fear you, and I have no 
 need to fight you to prove my bravery. You have 
 insulted me without cause, and I am powerless to resent 
 your insult." The Tall Figure turned, and disappeared 
 in the bushes.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE PURSUIT. 
 
 LEFT alone, Maurice Graham could at first 
 scarcely control himself, or decide what to do. 
 He was astonished and enraged by the very audacity 
 of these disguised men. His passionate temper, 
 generally controlled by a strong will and common 
 sense, had given way completely before the impertur 
 bability of his captor. To think how helpless he had 
 been when those men had taken the life which it was 
 his duty to protect ! He had been entrusted with 
 the care of that life, and now, because of his confi 
 dence, the poor wretch was swinging inanimate from a 
 tree. And to think how skillfully such carefully laid 
 plans had been frustrated ! Had there been any 
 treachery ? Like a flash came another thought : 
 Would he be suspected of perfidy ? Who could these 
 men be who had so boldly taken the law into their own 
 hands ? In the darkness, or by the occasional light of 
 the moon through the tree tops, Maurice had been 
 able to recognize no one ; but his suspicions naturally 
 pointed only to Major Mixon and his associates. Was 
 the sheriff the traitor ? Maurice did not believe 
 him so wicked a man ; but how could the scheme 
 possibly have been betrayed to these lynchers, unless 
 through the treachery of some one who knew its 
 details ? And would not his business connections and 
 
 (229)
 
 230 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 familiar acquaintance with Mixon render him, Maurice 
 Graham, equally liable to suspicion ? The thought was 
 like gall to him. The mortification of defeat added 
 its sting to the consciousness of responsibility; and, 
 shame for the sorry figure he should cut before his 
 men, filled him with bitterness. Mechanically he had 
 entered the road, and approached the troop almost 
 before he was aware. The deputy advanced to meet 
 him. 
 
 " Where is your man ? " he asked. 
 
 "He is dead," returned Maurice, laconically. 
 
 The dragoons, most of whom had dismounted and 
 secured their horses to the neighboring trees, crowded 
 around their officer in blank amazement. Maurice, 
 collecting his thoughts, sat down on a fallen trunk and 
 proceeded to give a simple statement of what had 
 happened. 
 
 " That is Major Mixon's work ! " exclaimed the 
 deputy, when the story was ended. " How could he 
 know of the plan ? " 
 
 " There lies the mystery," answered Maurice. 
 
 " Lieutenant Graham, I am under your orders, of 
 course," continued the deputy, " but as an officer of this 
 county, I insist that you at once make a vigorous 
 search for these murderers. The thing is murder, 
 nothing less ! This posse should go immediately to 
 Mixon's house ; if he is not at home, he will have to 
 prove where he was at the time of the outrage. It is 
 your duty to make some investigation." The deputy 
 spoke warmly. 
 
 To arrest Mixon, or to procure evidence against 
 him, would be an extremely unpleasant task for Maurice 
 Graham. When he had heaped his contumely upon
 
 THE PURSUIT. 231 
 
 the Tall Figure, he did not know whom he was address 
 ing, nor did he care. Indignant anger had swept away 
 his self-control. To avenge privately the death of the 
 negro, and thus remove the insult to himself, would 
 give him great satisfaction ; but even granting that 
 Mixon was guilty, the prejudices of the times would 
 render any active investigation of the crime very disa 
 greeable. Let the guilt be brought home, by all 
 means ; but Maurice did not fancy the rdle of detect 
 ive. Still, he was not merely a private citizen just 
 now ; as a temporary law officer of the county, he had 
 a duty to perform, before which his personal feelings 
 must yield. The words of the deputy had brought him 
 to a sense of his obligation. He ordered the men to 
 mount, saying : 
 
 " We will go to Mixon's at once." 
 
 A young man interrupted. " Major Mixon is a 
 friend of mine," said he, " and I, for one, am not going 
 to arrest him because of a nigger who only got what 
 he deserved." 
 
 " Stay behind then, sir," answered Maurice promptly. 
 " Whoever does not wish to go, is at liberty to return 
 to the city at once. If the work is unpleasant to any 
 one, let him leave." 
 
 All the men had mounted except the mutineer ; he 
 hesitated ; the influence of example is contagious, and 
 as Maurice leaped on Satan, the fellow said : " Well, 
 I guess I'll go too, if the other boys agree." Then the 
 troop went spinning up the road. 
 
 When Graham was left alon-e by the disguised indi 
 vidual, who, for want of a better name, has been 
 termed the Tall Figure, the latter walked rapidly for 
 some yards among the trees along the edge of the
 
 232 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 road. Stopping at a safe distance, he waited until his 
 late prisoner went off towards the troop. Evidently 
 satisfied on seeing this, the Figure resumed his steps, 
 and in a few minutes more was beside a man who held 
 two horses. Taking something from his mouth, he 
 asked in a perfectly clear tone : 
 
 " How did my voice sound, Colton ? " 
 
 " Lovely, Major ; your own mother wouldn't have 
 known it." 
 
 " It was deuced unpleasant keeping these three big 
 pebbles in my mouth and having them roll around with 
 every word ; but they answered the purpose. Graham 
 can't swear to the voice on the witness stand." 
 
 The speaker had been busy removing the sack 
 while talking, and when, lifting it from his shoulders 
 and head, he substituted a slouch hat which had been 
 hanging on the pommel of a saddle, the light sufficed 
 to reveal distinctly the features of Major Louis 
 Mixon. 
 
 " But, Major," said Colton, " it puzzles me how you 
 happened to know that Graham was to meet 'Nezzar 
 at Lover's Lake to-night. I suppose you won't tell a 
 fellow." 
 
 " That's a little secret I'll keep to myself," answered 
 Mixon, laughing with a relish. " Come, let's be gone ; 
 there is no depending on what that deputy sheriff 
 may do." 
 
 Throwing the sack under a bush, he mounted and 
 rode leisurely out of the forest, followed by Colton. 
 Evidently they were in no particular hurry. Some 
 cigars were produced and lighted. Moving along 
 slowly, they chatted as if in a very good humor, and 
 congratulated themselves on the adroit execution of
 
 THE PURSUIT. 233 
 
 their work. The one who had planned it all clearly 
 believed that the secret of the night's deed was enclosed 
 within a labyrinth of precaution ; he could not see the 
 one tiny thread leading to the outer world. After a 
 mile had been covered, the two separated, Mixon con 
 tinuing up the county road toward the avenue to his 
 house. 
 
 Colton had been gone some five minutes, when 
 Mixon heard a sudden sound close upon his rear. 
 Instantly he reined up his horse and listened intently. 
 His practised ear knew at once what the sounds meant. 
 
 " By heavens ! " he muttered, " they're just behind 
 me ! That fool Graham is bringing those dragoons 
 right on my heels ! " 
 
 As he spoke, a single horseman appeared in the 
 turn of the road, not fifty yards away. Quite satisfied 
 with the one hasty glance he had cast backwards, 
 Mixon dug the spurs into his horse's flanks and the 
 startled animal leaped forward. It was only a quarter 
 of a mile to the avenue ; his house once gained without 
 recognition, he could laugh his pursuers to scorn. So 
 he used his spurs again, sinking them deeply into the 
 flesh, and the tortured horse answered with broad swift 
 strides. It did not take him long to reach the avenue, 
 and turning quickly, Mixon flew rapidly along, a fugi 
 tive from justice in the shadows of his ancestral oaks. 
 
 The horseman whom he had perceived was Maurice 
 Graham; he rode a few yards ahead of the dragoons 
 a distance beyond the other horses which the ambi 
 tious Satan always insisted should be maintained. 
 Maurice saw the rider ahead of him, and so did Satan, 
 who pricked up his ears immediately, perhaps recog 
 nizing a rival to be conquered. At all events, the
 
 234 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 instant that Mixon dashed forward, Satan stretched 
 out his neck and bent his mighty limbs in hot pursuit. 
 As he ran, the horse seemed to feel the excitement of 
 the gait, and his speed became more terrific with every 
 bound. Momentarily, Maurice drew the bridle to 
 check his steed ; Satan answered with a rebellious 
 shake of the head and tugged fiercely at the bit. To 
 arrest Mixon and fasten this crime upon him would 
 surely relieve Maurice of any odium ; but he preferred 
 that if possible other hands should accomplish such 
 work. How he wished he had refused the sheriff 
 point blank ! Too late now were his regrets. Satan, 
 deciding the question, was bearing him in quick pur 
 suit, and consciousness of official duty restrained him 
 from stopping the horse's mad gallop. The troop was 
 now far behind. Maurice knew that if the rider ahead 
 was Mixon, he rode no horse that was a match for 
 Satan. The avenue was reached and entered, and no 
 sound was heard except that of <the flying hoofs. 
 Each moment the distance was being lessened between 
 them, when suddenly Satan stumbled and fell. In 
 rising, he stumbled a second time, before he could 
 recover his balance ; and when he again sprang for 
 ward pluckily in the race, the lost time had sufficed to 
 put Mixon considerably in advance. He had become 
 conscious of the near presence of only one pursuer ; 
 draw4ng his revolver hesitatingly, he looked back just 
 as Satan fell. 
 
 " No, I wouldn't hurt the fool," he muttered, and 
 the weapon was restored to its place, but the spurs 
 sank all the deeper in the horse's flanks. A bright 
 thought came to him. As he left the avenue to cross 
 the lawn, he leaned down and loosened the saddle-
 
 THE PURSUIT, 235 
 
 girth ; then, bending forward, the throat- lash was 
 released with some difficulty. In an instant more, he 
 had swept up to the house and around to the basement 
 in the rear where the shadows fell. Violently stopping 
 his horse here, Mixon leaped to the ground, bringing 
 the saddle in his fall. As quick almost as thought, the 
 bridle was jerked off and brought down heavily across 
 the back of the animal, which was standing obediently 
 by. Stung with pain, it shot out toward the road lead 
 ing to the old still, just as Maurice dashed around the 
 house. For a moment Satan was puzzled, and checked 
 his pace a little ; but hearing the flying horse, he fol 
 lowed for a hundred yards before Maurice could regain 
 control. The time, however, was enough for Mixon ; 
 picking up the saddle, he stepped quickly across the 
 narrow ground-porch, opened a door noiselessly, 
 entered, and immediately drew the bolts. Throwing 
 the riding-gear on the hall floor, he sprang up the 
 stairway to his room, where he at once began stripping 
 off some of his outer clothing, and as he lifted the cov 
 ering and jumped into bed, he heard Maurice's voice 
 calling his name. A low triumphant laugh was his 
 only reply. Presently the troop rattled over the lawn ; 
 then some one mounted the steps and knocked vigor 
 ously on the front door with a sabre-hilt. The dogs 
 about the premises began barking, and the racket grew 
 intolerable. Mixon allowed the knocking to be re 
 peated three times before he moved. Opening a 
 window, he thrust his body half way out ; he was deter 
 mined that the men below should see him dressed in 
 white, in his night-clothes. 
 
 "Who the devil is raising such a rumpus at this
 
 236 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 time of night ? " he demanded, in an assumed tone 
 of anger. " What do you want ? " 
 
 " We wished to know whether you were at home, 
 Major," answered Maurice. 
 
 " A nice time of night to pay visits! " growled 
 Mixon, pretending not to recognize the voice. "What 
 are you doing here, and who are you fellows, any 
 how?" 
 
 " It is Maurice Graham. Come down; we want to 
 speak to you." 
 
 "All right ; wait till I put my clothes on. I was 
 sound asleep." 
 
 Mixon's head and shoulders were withdrawn into 
 the room, but he did not hurry himself in the least, 
 and some minutes elapsed before he appeared on the 
 porch where Maurice and the deputy were waiting. 
 
 " Where have you been all night, Major ? " was the 
 rather foolish question asked him by the deputy. 
 
 " Why, in bed, of course. I retired early because 
 my family are spending the week at Carrollton." 
 
 Maurice was nonplussed. Now that Mixon had 
 come down, he did not know what to ask him ; the 
 man wasn't going to admit his guilt, and there were 
 certainly no grounds on which he could arrest Mixon. 
 He had not recognized the rider whom Satan pursued, 
 but that it was the man standing there before him, 
 he had not a moral doubt. He turned to the deputy. 
 
 " I don't feel justified in making the arrest," said 
 he ; "but you are free to act as you think proper." 
 
 "I suppose we must await the inquest," answered 
 the much chagrined official. 
 
 Mixon here broke in, and demanded to know what 
 was going on. Whom did they want to arrest ? Were
 
 THE PURSUIT. 237 
 
 the niggers giving any trouble ? If the boys wanted 
 help, why, he was with them, of course. 
 
 Maurice regarded him curiously ; the man certainly 
 was acting very cleverly. Briefly he related the night's 
 occurrences. 
 
 Mixon was surprised, indignant, outraged. "So you 
 suspected me, eh ? Well, you found me in bed, didn't 
 you, Mr. Sheriff ? Whenever any trouble is going on 
 in this parish, it is always Major Mixon ! Major Mixon ! 
 Thank God, I stayed at home to-night ! Everybody's 
 sin is laid at my door. Coming to arrest me, eh ? The 
 devil you were ! That's a nice story to come and tell 
 an honest man who is quietly sleeping in his own 
 house ! " 
 
 Mixon strode the piazza indignantly, stamping his 
 feet furiously in his pretended rage. Coming back, he 
 exclaimed, as if it were an after-thought : 
 
 " By ! I'm glad the nigger is done for ! Yes, 
 
 I am ! Hung him, eh ? Ha ! Ha ! That's good ! I 
 forgive you your suspicions, boys, for such news. It's 
 what I've been wanting to hear for a long time ! There's 
 some good whiskey in the house ; let's all take a drink," 
 and he turned to procure the article. 
 
 "Never mind," said Maurice, stopping him; "we 
 can't drink now. There's more work to be done yet. ' 
 
 After some little parley, Maurice rode away with the 
 troop. Reaching the forks again, he dispatched the 
 deputy with two of his men to inform the sheriff and 
 to summon the coroner. With the rest of the squad 
 he proceeded to the scene of the lynching. A propo 
 sition was made to cut the body down ; but Maurice 
 would not allow it to be touched. The men kept 
 guard during the remainder of the night, and in the
 
 238 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 morning their services were really needed. By seven 
 o'clock the negroes on Mixon's plantation, having heard 
 the news probably from the Major began to flock 
 around Lover's Lake. Most of them were very much 
 excited. Some wanted to take possession of the body, 
 and showed a disposition to quarrel when refused. But 
 the drawn sabres and cocked revolvers of the dragoons 
 kept them quiet. 
 
 About eight o'clock the coroner arrived, and shortly 
 after came the sheriff. A jury of negroes was hastily 
 impanneled, and the inquest began. Maurice gave his 
 testimony of the actual facts, beginning with the inter 
 view of the previous night. He reserved his opinions. 
 When questioned about the disguised men, he answered 
 that not a single fact or circumstance had disclosed to 
 him the identity of any one of the lynchers. 
 
 Some of the troop were examined, as was the 
 deputy also. They testified to having seen Mixon 
 appear at a window in night-clothes when summoned 
 by a knock on his front door. 
 
 "And he was deuced hard to wake up," said one of 
 the men. 
 
 In addition, the Major had sworn that he was in 
 bed when he heard the rapping. He had forgotten to 
 tell that he happened to have on his boots and spurs at 
 the time. 
 
 The coroner, through lack of further testimony, was 
 obliged to close the case and instruct the jury, who 
 rendered a verdict that the deceased had come to his 
 death by hanging, at the hands of persons to them 
 unknown. The body was then delivered to the negroes, 
 and the dragoons were dismissed. 
 
 On reaching home, Maurice procured some food,
 
 THE PURSUIT. 239 
 
 and retired immediately to his room. Later, he had a 
 long conversation with his father. Towards supper- 
 time he received a newspaper reporter, who had called 
 twice; but the family saw him no more that day. He 
 had the feeling of having been completely outdone, 
 and he dreaded to appear before Hortense. That she 
 might look upon him with contempt, was now his fear ; 
 and he hesitated to meet the silent criticism of this 
 high-minded girl forgetting that the very nobility of 
 her nature would yield him the warmest sympathy. 
 He forgot everything but the dead man and his own 
 defeat and mortification. His lively imagination almost 
 made him feel the disdain he believed she would have 
 for anything like weakness. Could she respect him, 
 outwitted as he had been, with so many men at his com 
 mand ? He was just now in no condition to remem 
 ber that wounded vanity can cause even the strongest 
 man to wince in the presence of the woman he loves. 
 Q
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A REVELATION. 
 
 ON that Sunday night, the Gildersleeves were truly 
 glad that their visit to Carrollton was rapidly 
 drawing to a close. Not that they were lacking in ap 
 preciation of the hospitality of their hosts ; nor had 
 that hospitality suddenly become less generous and 
 warm. But this evening there was a sombre gloom 
 over the whole household, which not even the gallant 
 raillery of Colonel Graham could disperse. The 
 members of the family seemed to feel that a misfortune 
 had befallen them all. The father affected to view the 
 matter philosophically ; but in truth he perceived, 
 with no little bitterness, that his son's honor could now 
 be questioned by political opponents, and that really 
 there would be no mode of refuting their slander ex 
 cept that of dignified indifference. However much 
 the sentiment has been ridiculed, the sense of personal 
 honor is strong and deep in the best class of South 
 erners, as it is with most high-bred people ; and in its 
 application the Southerner rarely swerves from the 
 principles of his education or his sectional prejudices. 
 Oftentimes these principles and prejudices are at vari 
 ance with those of other sections ; and then the oppor 
 tunity arises for ridicule of the boasted "Southern 
 honor." 
 
 All unconscious of the previous night's tragedy, the 
 
 (240)
 
 A REVELATION. 241 
 
 Grahams and their guests had this morning gone to 
 attend religious service. Although the news spread 
 rapidly through the city, they heard nothing until they 
 were returning home, when various rumors reached 
 their ears, in all of which Maurice's name was promi 
 nent. Hurrying on ahead of the family, with much 
 anxiety, Colonel Graham was soon closeted with his 
 son, and heard the whole story. When they assem 
 bled for dinner, the altered demeanor of the family 
 rendered necessary some explanation to the North 
 erners ; and after Mrs. Graham had excused her son's 
 absence on the plea of lack of sleep, her husband 
 briefly related the bare outlines of the affair. The Gil- 
 dersleeves perceived at once that their hosts did not 
 desire to have the matter discussed just then, and they 
 respected the pride that would cloak misfortune with 
 dignity and reserve. Their delicate tact diverted the 
 table-talk into other channels ; and they made no offi 
 cious inquiries, nor offered sympathy which would only 
 wound. The guests appreciated the spirit that forbore 
 to mar their visit by a discussion of family troubles, and 
 with a natural refinement of feeling they endeavored 
 to assist their hosts in the duty of hospitality. 
 
 Next morning, Maurice was at breakfast, as digni 
 fied and self-possessed as usual, a little less talkative 
 perhaps, but still very pleasant. Hortense hardly un 
 derstood what had happened. She was as yet ignorant 
 of the details of the lynching, and she only knew that 
 Maurice had some unfortunate connection with the 
 affair. That he was to blame in the least, was a thought 
 that never entered her mind for a moment. But she 
 did regret deeply that there was no real friendship ex 
 isting between them a fact she realized keenly this
 
 242 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 morning. How glad she would have been if their inti 
 macy were such as to allow him to speak freely to her 
 of his trouble ! She looked at him wistfully across the 
 breakfast table ; he was calmly eating his rolls and 
 steak in a very material way, and did not even see the 
 momentary expression. Now, she thought, he had 
 drifted away from her forever ; she had repulsed him 
 herself, and she never could presume to approach him 
 with sympathy. They were far apart now ; she had a 
 duty to perform, and he was too earnest a man to trifle 
 with his affections ; each day the distance would grow 
 greater. As she thought of all this, and remembered 
 the easy, almost joyous, manner he had once shown 
 when with her, a feeling of depression came upon her, 
 and with it came a sudden temptation. Perhaps it was 
 not yet too late to undo what had been done. Could 
 she not call him to her again ? She had been cool and 
 distant toward him cruelly so, it now seemed to her ; 
 she herself had authoritatively placed a limit to their 
 acquaintance. All this might be changed. She could 
 be entertaining and fascinating ; if need be, she could 
 even resort to various little arts which she had known 
 other women to employ toward men. She could give 
 him to understand that a woman was at liberty to 
 change her mind ; and then, if he chose to win her, if 
 she were sure he was suffering for her sake . . . 
 Her meditations were suddenly interrupted. He had 
 risen from the table, and was speaking to her. 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Hortense ; I fear I shall not have 
 the good fortune to see you again to-day. I suppose 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve will persist in going to Belleville this 
 afternoon, if your father returns on the morning's 
 train."
 
 A REVELATION. 243 
 
 " But will you not join us at dinner ? " asked her 
 mother. 
 
 " I fear not. I shall be very busy all day, and per 
 haps had better say good-bye now." 
 
 A shake of the hand, and the farewell was over. 
 He was pleasant, but unmistakably reserved, Hortense 
 thought. She now understood clearly the great dis 
 tance that lay between them. For a moment she was 
 impelled to accompany him out to the garden, and 
 exact a promise of an early visit. But with womanly 
 quickness and injustice, she intuitively compared his 
 absolute indifference of manner with the sacrifice she 
 contemplated, and a feeling of bitterness came into 
 her heart. Then he was gone, and she was heartily 
 ashamed of her temptation. Maurice had been close 
 to the Golden Apple when he least suspected its pres 
 ence ; but now it was wafted away farther than ever 
 before on the ocean of life. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve arrived in Carrollton that morn 
 ing, and in the afternoon the family returned to Belle 
 ville. Hortense was very glad to be at home again. 
 The visit had brought her no pleasure, but only regrets 
 and temptation. Why should she be interested in his 
 trouble? Only as she would be in that of any other 
 person who commanded her respect, she insisted to 
 herself. Now that they were all once more at home, 
 life would run on as smoothly as ever, until some day 
 Ernest would come to claim her as his bride. She was 
 sorry that Maurice Graham was in trouble very sorry 
 but certainly she could not render any assistance. 
 Well, she would get the newspaper and read the 
 account of that lynching affair. Her father's return, 
 and various other things, had occupied her time com-
 
 244 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 pletely, and she had not even had an opportunity to 
 see the day's paper. So, a little while before supper, 
 she procured her father's copy, and with more interest 
 than she would have admitted, bent eagerly to its 
 perusal. The report of the affair began with the state 
 ment given by Maurice. He related in detail the 
 interview between himself and the sheriff, and how 
 carefully they had taken every possible precaution, 
 ending with the story of the expedition, as far as he 
 had been a witness. On the editorial page Hortense 
 read the following : 
 
 "Judge Lynch has suddenly appeared in our county 
 and startled the community. At last the endurance of 
 some of our people has given way under continued 
 lawlessness and crime, and the majesty of the law, if 
 such a thing exists in our State, has been outraged. 
 We publish in this issue full accounts of the sensational 
 occurrences of Saturday night ; and while we little 
 regret the fate of the criminal for such he undoubt 
 edly was we must condemn the action of the 
 lynchers, and more particularly their mode of opera 
 tion. We know that under our present government 
 life and property have but slight protection, and we 
 do not deny that sometimes enough provocation arises 
 almost to justify the terrible remedy ; but these bold 
 men should have remembered, when they took the law 
 into their own hands, that they were placing Lieuten 
 ant Graham in an unjust and unfortunate position. 
 We say unfortunate ; but it is only so as regards his 
 and our political enemies and strangers. The sym 
 pathy throughout the city in behalf of the gentleman 
 testifies very flatteringly to the public confidence he 
 commands. Lieutenant Graham stands before the
 
 A REVELATION: 245 
 
 community as one of our most estimable young citi 
 zens, a man whose position and record is without a 
 blemish. But of course, no matter how pure a charac 
 ter may be, such an affair furnishes too rich material 
 for political slander to be permitted to pass unnoticed; 
 and we predict a general howl of horror on the part of 
 our Republican exchanges. But Mr. Graham, secure 
 in the respect and confidence of his fellow-citizens, 
 can afford to ignore the sneers and insinuations of 
 these always ready maligners. 
 
 " That there was a traitor in the affair, we have no 
 doubt. ladeed, that is the only hypothesis which 
 solves the mystery. Who could this wretch have been? 
 Will not the matter bear investigation ? No one ever 
 knows what the whirligig of time may bring to pass, 
 and we would not be surprised to hear at any moment 
 of some devilish plot in which Lieutenant Graham and 
 his dragoons were unwittingly made the tools of un 
 scrupulous political machinators. It is well to bear in 
 mind that an exciting campaign will soon be upon us. 
 Verbum sap." 
 
 As Hortense read, her cheek grew pale with indig 
 nation. Now for the first time she understood the 
 feelings of the Grahams. But how could that editor 
 write so calmly of the affair? It was most outrageous! 
 He, Maurice Graham, whom she knew to be one of 
 the best men living, he, to be placed in such a 
 position that his motives and actions could be ques 
 tioned by the populace! Why, it is terrible, she 
 thought, almost gasping with her emotion. Even to 
 have it admitted in a newspaper that one's position is 
 dubious, must be a blow to a man of his pride. How 
 sorry she felt for him! and how she did wish that she
 
 246 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 had accompanied him out to the garden in the morn 
 ing, as she might so easily have done, and made him 
 promise to come up and see her soon. Now she might 
 not meet him again for a month, or even more. She 
 wiped away a little tear that had gathered in the 
 corner of her eye ; and turning over the paper, she 
 began reading anew the story of the lynching. 
 
 Suddenly, as she read, Hortense uttered an excla 
 mation of astonishment. She was reading Maurice's 
 account of his interview with the sheriff in the study ; 
 and instantly she recollected the events of that Friday 
 evening. She recalled how Major Mixon had bored 
 her with his presence and his jokes, how she had left 
 him in the little courtyard, and on returning to the 
 corridor had met Maurice and a strange man coming 
 into the library. Could that have been the sheriff? 
 and could Mixon have overheard their conversation ? 
 She was sure that it was the right clue ; and she 
 trembled with excitement, as she thought that she 
 might be the only person who could unravel this dark 
 mystery. Yes, she was certain of the facts ; the time 
 given by Maurice of his interview with the sheriff^ cor 
 responded exactly with that at which she had left 
 Mixon in the courtyard ; and now she remembered 
 that when she met Maurice at the door of the library, 
 he explained that he had some business with the 
 gentleman who was with him. Afterwards, she thought 
 it queer that he should have business at such an hour. 
 She was glad that now she could do Maurice Graham 
 a real service. As for Major Mixon, he must prove 
 his innocence, she thought, with compressed lips. 
 What right had he to fasten this ignominy on Maurice 
 Graham? The beautiful lips were compressed still
 
 A REVELATION. 247 
 
 more tightly with resolution. She was truly sorry for 
 Mrs. Mixon ; but that cruel husband of hers should 
 Maurice Graham surfer for his benefit? Never! and 
 the lips curled contemptuously. 
 
 At supper the father and daughter alone appeared. 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve, somewhat fatigued, had retired to 
 her room. Throughout the first part of the meal Hor- 
 tense was strangely silent, and thfs was in such con 
 trast to her usual vivacity, that at last her father rallied 
 her on the subject. 
 
 " What makes you so preoccupied ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have a secret to tell you," she answered. Then 
 turning to the servant who was attending on the table, 
 she said : " Pompey, you need not remain any longer; 
 I will ring if we want you." 
 
 The man was considerably surprised. He had 
 never yet been dismissed before the conclusion of a 
 meal, and he did not relish the order. The negro 
 waiter always listens with greedy avidity to table-talk ; 
 indeed, this very privilege render^ l^ie position an 
 enviable one in his eyes. He hears all the news and 
 gossip of the day, and he enjoys the conversation as 
 much as his master does the morning's paper. Pompey 
 had enough intelligence to know that Hortense did not 
 wish him to hear her conversation just now, and that 
 fact was sufficient to inflame his curiosity. These 
 Northerners little knew the precautions that Southern 
 ers, from their long acquaintance with the negro 
 character, instinctively adopt. When the man retired 
 promptly, Hortense thought that she was free to speak. 
 Pompey had gone out on the back porch and down 
 the stairway leading to the kitchen. But reaching the 
 yard, he hastily pulled off his shoes and crept lightly up
 
 248 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 on the porch again, where he stationed himself close to 
 the blinds of one of the dining-room windows. In the 
 darkness he would escape observation. 
 
 " I am satisfied, father," Hortense was saying, " that 
 Major Mixon must have overheard the plans between 
 Mr. Graham and the sheriff. I certainly left him in 
 the courtyard when the two entered the library." 
 
 " Your suspicion is a strong one," replied her father. 
 " Let me see: The Grahams held that reception on 
 Friday? Your testimony would then be something 
 like this : that on that evening, during the entertain 
 ment, you were in the court-yard adjoining Maurice 
 Graham's library, with Major Mixon; that you left him 
 alone there, and so situated that he could not be seen, 
 when Maurice came in with the sheriff. You didn't 
 tell them of Mixon's presence there ?" 
 
 " No, I forgot all about him." 
 
 " That was unfortunate. Yes, the presumption 
 seems strong, if the facts are as you think them to be, 
 that he overheard the plan for the capture of that 
 negro ; at least, he must show where he was at that 
 time. This fact may explain the whole mystery." 
 
 " But can not something be done ? " anxiously 
 inquired Hortense. " It is not just to allow this sus 
 picion of foul play to rest on Mr. Graham." 
 
 " Of course not. I am going to the city in the 
 morning, and I will see Gravoir about the matter." 
 
 " But, father, if he thinks the evidence not strong 
 enough to be used, I wish you would gdt him to say 
 nothing to Mr. Graham." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 V Oh, don't you see " with a trifle of confusion, as 
 though she were hunting around for a reason " no
 
 A REVELATION. 249 
 
 young lady cares to give a gentleman the impres 
 sion that she is so much interested in him ; and men 
 are vain about such matters, you know. Weren't you, 
 when you were a young man ? " 
 
 Her father glanced at her suspiciously for a mo 
 ment, but her face was almost hidden by a cup of tea 
 which she had just raised to her lips, and he saw noth 
 ing. Then he answered : 
 
 " Hortense, you are the most stupidly sensitive girl 
 one could find. Why, this is a simple act of justice." 
 
 " I know that, but promise me," she pleaded. 
 
 The promise was given, and there the conversation 
 ended. Soon after, the two left the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY. 
 
 POMPEY'S work was done for the night. Greatly 
 excited over what he had heard, he hurried 
 through his duties with unusual zeal ; and no sooner 
 were they all dispatched than he darted out of the 
 kitchen, not even noticing the exclamation of the cook: 
 
 " Laws sakes, chile ! whar yer gwine ? Don't yer 
 want no supper ? " 
 
 But the negro was gone, and In a minute more he 
 was making his way toward another portion of the 
 town. Walking very fast for some time, he at last 
 stopped before a small two-room frame house, one of 
 several of the kind grouped together. The door of 
 the shanty was open and a light burned within, but 
 there was no one in sight. Pompey did not wait to 
 knock, but cried out lustily: 
 
 " Brudder Tomkins ! Brudder ! Is yer home ? " 
 
 A child appeared and invited the visitor to enter. 
 But, no ; Pompey wanted to see " de brudder." He 
 could not come in. The child retired, and directly 
 after that ecclesiastical dignitary came to the door. 
 
 " What de matter wid yer, Pomp ? What yer doin' 
 dis side o' town now, eh nigger? " was the polite recep 
 tion. 
 
 " Come out yar, brudder, quick ! " cried Pompey, 
 nervously. " I want fur ter tell yer sumfin dat will
 
 POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY. 251 
 
 knock yer ober like a streak o' lightnin'." Stepping 
 up close to the preacher, he added : " It's all 'long o' 
 what Miss Hortense say 'bout de murder." 
 
 Tomkins could not understand this statement ; he 
 looked at Pompey as though he thought him crazy. 
 
 " What foolishness is dis, nigger ? " he asked. " Is 
 yer eber gwine hab eny intellection in dat chaff-box o' 
 yourn ? " 
 
 " 'Fore God, brudder, I'se talkin' sense dis time, 
 sure ! " exclaimed Pompey earnestly. " I heerd Miss 
 Hortense tell her pa how Maurice Graham an' de 
 Major plan ter hang "Nezzar." 
 
 Tomkins was almost dumb with astonishment at 
 these words ; then, immediately realizing that the man 
 must really have something important to tell, he said: 
 
 " What meks yer talk so loud, Pomp ? Come wid 
 me, whar we kin talk sensible like." 
 
 The two left the house and crossed the road, stop 
 ping under a large oak tree. " Now, Pomp," said Tom- 
 kins gravely, and assuming his most dignified ministe 
 rial tone as soon as he was certain that there was no 
 danger of the communication being overheard by any 
 of the neighbors, " Now, Pomp, what yer say is a mat 
 ter ob solemnibility, an' yer has perfected de height ob 
 wisdom in comin' yar an' 'municatin' dis onexpected 
 news ter me. Ain't I de sperit adviser ob de cullud 
 mens ob dis town ? An' dat's why I is de proper 
 receptable ob any secret dat's a' hangin' on yer mind. 
 Mr. Singleton, I allus said dat yer would be a man 
 ef yer follow my advisability. What was dis yer hear 
 Miss Hortense say ? " 
 
 " Miss Hortense tell her pa dat she an' de Major 
 heerd de sheriff an' Maurice Graham when dey was
 
 252 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 plannin' ter ketch 'Nezzar. No, it wasn't Miss Hor- 
 tense dat heerd it, but she say de Major was listenin'. 
 She knowed he was." 
 
 " What was dat at, nigger ? " 
 
 " In de lib'rirary at de Grahams in Car'llton, las' 
 Friday night ; dey hed a party dere." 
 
 " Yes, dat's so, dat's de time," answered Tomkins, 
 intensely interested. "But how did Miss Hortense 
 know de Major was listenin' ? " 
 
 " She seen him ! She was in de room when dey 
 come in, an' she seen him hide away a' puppose ter lis 
 ten. She left de Major dar ; he was fixed so dat de 
 sheriff couldn't see him ! " 
 
 " Den Maurice Graham must a' knowed de Major 
 was listenin' ? " 
 
 "I didn't hear her tell on dat, but she say she 
 knowed de Major done de hangin' an' dat it's a real 
 shame fur people ter blame Marse Maurice." 
 
 " Now, look yar, nigger ! Is yer tellin' de truf 
 'bout dis thing ? " asked Tomkins, severely. 
 
 " I kin swear ter it on de Bible, brudder ! " 
 
 " An* ain't yer feared ter go 'bout dis town in de 
 night time ? Pomp, I'se sorry fur ye ! I remiserate 
 yer, my son ! Don't yer know dat ef de Major 
 knowed dat yer was tellin' sich a story 'bout him dat 
 he'd skin yer and den tek yer hide ter lash yer bones 
 wid ? Oh, nigger, I'd rudder be in de fiery jaws ob 
 hell, yea, in de bery mouf ob de burnin' an' bottomless 
 pit, dan hab Mass Mixon ter know what yer was tellin' 
 on him ! " 
 
 The now miserable Pompey had at first listened in 
 astonishment ; but as the speaker had continued to 
 depict his possible fate, with graphic words emphati-
 
 POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY. 
 
 cally uttered, his astonishment became horror, and 
 his lower jaw fell with fear as the picture grew more 
 complete. Trembling all over, he clutched the preacher 
 by the arm and groaned : 
 
 " Fur mussy sake ! yer ain't gwine ter tell him, is 
 yer ? I ain't gone tole nobody else, brudder." 
 
 " Den, Pomp, yer has acted sensible like. You'd 
 jest better keep yer mouf shet. Golly ! wouldn't de 
 Major eberlastin'ly skin yer, lash yer, wash yer in 
 salt an' water an' pepper, an' den hang yer same like 
 he done 'Nezzar ! " 
 
 " Brudder, I'll nebber say a word mo' 'bout dis 
 ting. Great God ! I wish I nebber knowed it ! " 
 
 " Jest keep yer mouf shet, Pomp, an' yer is safe. 
 Ef yer don't, de Lord hisself couldn't save yer ! Go 
 home now ; it's gettin' late." 
 
 " Good-night, brudder ; it 'pears dark as de debbil 
 down dat road ! " Pompey had become very nervous. 
 
 " Hab a little sense, nigger ! What meks yer sich a 
 fool, eh ? Nobody knows de ting but me. I allustold 
 yer dat yer nebber had no intellection. Go home ! " 
 repeated Tomkins, peremptorily. 
 
 Pompey turned to obey, and as he was disappearing 
 his adviser added : 
 
 " Ef yer hears eny mo', be sure yer come ter disyar 
 habitation an' 'municate de ting ter yer sperit con 
 soler." 
 
 As soon as the negro was gone, Tomkins produced 
 a short pipe, and lighting its contents, he remained 
 under the tree in cogitation for some time. At last his 
 meditations seemed to reach a decision ; emptying the 
 pipe of its ashes, he walked towards his dwelling, mut 
 tering : 
 
 I
 
 254 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 '' I b'lieve I'd rudder trust Sharpedan dose Yankees, 
 enyhow, "cause ef dey is gotde money, dey mightn't be 
 willin' ter pay me fur ter keep back dis walable infur- 
 mation. An' ef dat nigger Pomp don't keep his mouf 
 shet, I'll mek de niggers 'round yar tink he knowedall 
 de time who done de hangin' an' den you'll hab ter 
 git out'en dis yar county, Pomp ! " 
 
 In the morning Tomkins boarded a train for Car- 
 rollton, where he went direct to Sharpe's office. When, 
 an hour later, he was on the street again, his face was 
 beaming with satisfaction, and in the crown of his 
 stove-pipe hat were several crisp notes of our national 
 currency. A few days later, Sharpe paid a visit to 
 Belleville and had an interview with Pompey, whom 
 he pumped much more thoroughly than Tomkins had 
 done ; and finally, by means of a little money and 
 many threats, the politician still further impressed 
 
 upon the negro the necessity for absolute silence. 
 ***** 
 
 " What -did Mr. Gravoir say, father ? " carelessly 
 inquired Miss Gildersleeve. 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve had just arrived from the depot, 
 and was met by his daughter at the garden gate. 
 Although she had been awaiting his return from Car- 
 rollton with feverish impatience all the afternoon, yet 
 her manner did not now betray in the least the intense 
 interest with which she made the inquiry. Having 
 first kissed her father as usual, and then energetically 
 brushed away a trifle of dust from the lapel of his 
 coat as though it absorbed her every thought, Hor- 
 tense put the question in a sudden casual tone, as if 
 she had only that moment recollected the subject. 
 
 " We had quite a long talk," came the reply,
 
 POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY. 255 
 
 with apparently much deeper concern " Gravoir's 
 suspicions, like those of every one else, pointed to 
 Major Mixon as the perpetrator of this crime. In fact, 
 we both believe that Mixon overheard that conversa 
 tion. Gravoir explained to me the arrangement of 
 the library ; and if Mixon did not go out with you, he 
 must have remained there. There was no other way 
 for him to get out. Indeed, the matter admits of very 
 little doubt, if the circumstances are as you related." 
 
 " I am absolutely sure of them ! " exclaimed Hor- 
 tense, dropping her careless manner. " But tell me, 
 what will Mr. Gravoir do ? " 
 
 " He says positively that nothing must be done, and 
 that you are to be very careful that you give no inti 
 mation to any one of what you know." 
 
 "What ! " came from the young lady, in unfeigned 
 surprise. " What ! does Mr. Gravoir mean to allow 
 Maurice Graham to be treated so unjustly ? " 
 
 " I was also surprised, my daughter, when he first 
 made that statement ; but his reasons are at least 
 worthy of notice," replied Mr. Gildersleeve. 
 
 " I can understand no reason why an injustice 
 should not be repaired ! " exclaimed Hortense, impetu 
 ously. 
 
 " That is true in general, my dear ; but there is 
 another reason, favoring your views, to which I 
 attached more importance. I would prefer a seeming 
 injustice to Graham one that his personal character 
 contradicts, or which he can live down than that a 
 great public crime like this lynching should go unpun 
 ished." 
 
 " But to punish the criminal is to exonerate Graham," 
 persisted Hortense. 
 R
 
 256 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Exactly ; and as the one is impossible, so is the 
 other. It would be extremely difficult to serve Mixon 
 his deserts in this matter ; and if the attempt ended in 
 failure as it probably would public opinion is such 
 that Graham would be injured instead of being bene 
 fited. Gravoir says that the negro was undoubtedly a 
 criminal which I believe ; and while people generally 
 condemn the mode, yet they think the lynching justi 
 fied. At present, Graham enjoys the sympathy of the 
 community ; but the moment he endeavored to clear 
 himself, at Mixon's expense, of an imputation that has 
 no weight, his course would be condemned in the city. 
 I do not approve the sentiment far from it ; but you 
 see, Hortense, there is a political principle underlying 
 these issues. Men feel that they are bound to each 
 other by the strongest of ties that of a community of 
 interests. The people know that the laws afford but 
 slight protection ; and they argue that Mixon acted 
 only as most men would. However, while I can not 
 assent wholly to that, yet if he had not hung the 
 negro in cold blood, I would have more excuse for 
 him ; or if he had killed the man while suffering under 
 the immediate anger at his loss, I would say that much 
 allowance should be made. As it is, I would like to 
 see Mixon punished ; he deserves it for his cruelty ; 
 but his conviction would be a long and difficult affair, 
 only serving to stir up passions already hot enough, 
 and consolidating still more strongly the black vote on 
 the side of this diabolical government." 
 
 " Then there is nothing more to be done ? " asked 
 Hortense, who had listened with much chagrin, to hear 
 her plans for serving Maurice Graham scattered in the 
 dust.
 
 POMPEY BECOMES UNHAPPY. 257 
 
 " No ; I believe, on the whole, that it is best to 
 leave the matter here, or at least to await develop 
 ments ; and if at any time it seems possible to aid jus 
 tice, we can consider the subject again. Come, Hor- 
 tense, mother must think we are lost."
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 
 
 IN 1868, after the Reconstruction measures had 
 become complete, the Republican, or, as it was 
 locally called, Radical party, easily succeeded in elect 
 ing its entire ticket. The causes which led to that 
 result are manifest. On the side of the victorious 
 party was a skillful organization, supported by a cen 
 tral government which was then brilliant with all the 
 Jclatoi a great national success ; while their opponents, 
 scarcely realizing the issue, not only lacked the sem 
 blance of organization, but, yielding to the apathy 
 which had followed previous failure, they even 
 neglected, with haughty disdain, to cast their ballots. 
 " I will never vote alongside the negro ! " was a com 
 mon expression at that time. But like the small boy 
 who would not have his cake unless he were given 
 candy also, these same men were very glad, after a few 
 years of bitter experience, to get their cake in any 
 fashion. Awakened at last, the native whites realized 
 their error, and perceived that the situation was only 
 the logical result of natural causes. The majority of 
 votes held by the negroes ; their ignorance and creduli 
 ty ; their enthusiastic gratitude for freedom ; the fear 
 that this condition might at any time be lost, exposing 
 them to the vengeance of their former masters ; the 
 presence of the carpet-bagger, with his insinuating 
 
 (258)
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 259 
 
 counsels and corrupt methods ; the minority of the 
 whites, and their indifference ; the apparently wide 
 divergence of interests between the former master and 
 the late slave ; occasional race conflicts, augmenting 
 the fears and prejudices of people of both colors ; 
 these were the main causes effecting the formation of 
 a party which, for a time, was absolute in its power. 
 
 In 1870, a small number of the native whites 
 became aroused by a sense of impending evil in the 
 near future. The administration of the two preceding 
 years had destroyed every hope of good government 
 under the Radical party, and even in this party there 
 was an honest element that revolted from the frauds, 
 peculations and crimes which had stamped with infamy 
 the acts of its officials and the course of its legislation. 
 As the next campaign opened, a coalition was formed 
 between these two elements, and the Conservative 
 party was born. With a Republican as its candidate 
 for Governor, and a Democrat for Lieutenant-Gover 
 nor, the remainder of the ticket being apportioned in 
 a similar manner, the new party entered the field upon 
 its heroic protest against corruption. But unfortunately, 
 the effort availed nothing ; the general unconcern of 
 the whites and the distrust of the negroes effectually 
 precluded enlistment in the cause. The Bourbonism 
 of the former, who rebelled against voting for a Repub 
 lican, and the suspicion of the negroes because of his 
 affiliation with Democrats, were fatal to supremacy at 
 the ballot-box. But while the conditions necessary to 
 success did not exist, and although the defeat seemed 
 overwhelming for a time, yet the effort was not wholly 
 useless. One lesson had been taken in the new educa 
 tion which Southern minds were to receive, and one
 
 260 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 step had been made toward that radical change in 
 Southern sentiment which alone could bring the revo 
 lution to a happy end. 
 
 At the next election, the whites succumbed hope 
 lessly to what they believed to be the inevitable. Al 
 ready despairing of relief through their own efforts, 
 the crushing exposure of the Kuklux organizations at 
 this time completed the dismay of the more liberal 
 classes, who would have sought to solve their difficul 
 ties by more civilized methods ; and the rigid enforce 
 ment of the laws against these enormities added to the 
 general discomfiture. So the Republicans had the field 
 to themselves ; and for a few years the two wings of 
 the party fought each other fiercely for the mastery. 
 Meanwhile, each administration grew more reckless 
 and the civilization of the State more imperiled. At 
 the third election, the Democrats, as a body, remained 
 inactive, and supported that faction of the dominant 
 party which possessed the greater promise of respecta 
 bility. This continued inactivity may seem strange, 
 but its causes are not obscure. The natural despair of 
 ever overturning a compact negro majority of thirty 
 thousand votes engendered a sense of weakness which 
 produced a natural lack of vigor. Again, the reform 
 leaders felt powerless to succeed without the coopera 
 tion of the better class of Republicans, and many white 
 voters did not cast their votes because of the mongrel 
 composition of the new Party because, in fact, they 
 would be associated with Republicans ! The same 
 preposterous feelings of pride and haughtiness still in 
 fluenced a considerable portion of the old white popu 
 lation ; and so strong were these traits of the once 
 prominent Southern character, that many preferred
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 261 
 
 political nonentity to compromise. Consequently, 
 whenever the Conservative party endeavored to uproot 
 the rascally crew that controlled the government, trie 
 defection from the Republicans was small, and the 
 Democrats rendered only feeble support. 
 
 Governor Northborn's personal administration had 
 proven a genuine surprise to all classes. The white 
 people, though far from being unanimous, had sup 
 ported his opponent so actively that the usual negro 
 majority was reduced to ten thousand. Because of 
 Northborn's passive conduct as attorney-general, public 
 estimation had ranked him as but little better than the 
 worst elements of the party. But when, to the infinite 
 disgust of his own satellites and the astonishment of 
 his enemies, he instituted, as far as his power lay, a 
 vigorous reform in the various departments of govern 
 ment, all the respectability of the State rallied with a 
 shout of enthusiasm to his support, and for a time the 
 people had hope. But it was soon evident that North 
 born's fellow leaders had very little sympathy with his 
 views ; and although his efforts were earnest and stren 
 uous, they failed to overcome a determined opposition. 
 The negroes had too perfect control of both houses of 
 the legislature, their ignorance was too dense, their cu 
 pidity too uncompromising, their morals too rotten, and 
 their infatuation too extravagant, to be checked by the 
 very man whom they had elevated to power. Nor did 
 the other leaders perceive that a deadly struggle was 
 imminent betwixt civilization and barbarism ; lacking 
 the far-reaching acumen of Northborn, they relied with 
 blind assurance on the negro majority as the unques 
 tionable and sole condition of their continuance in 
 power. The black legislature, accustomed to the air-
 
 262 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 ing of lofty sentiments, listened to Northborn's inaugu 
 ral message and scarcely smiled. But as soon as the 
 Executive proceeded to carry out those reform views, 
 threats and denunciations of his course were loud and 
 frequent, ending with the accusation of treachery and 
 the almost complete helplessness of the Governor. 
 The turbulent insolence of the negro population had 
 become greatly augmented of late years by the con 
 stant defeat of their opponents, and this uninterrupted 
 tenure of power had given them a sense of security and 
 authority. Their jubilation and defiance reached their 
 culmination in the election of Phelps as judge. But 
 while the negroes rejoiced, this last act had horrified 
 the whites; now, if never before, they realized their con 
 dition, and it seemed as though a bugle had suddenly 
 sounded, awakening them from a long sleep. With 
 rapid change of public thought, they no longer regarded 
 the issue as merely political ; but their patriotism was 
 aroused ; their love of home, of life, of property, of 
 virtue, goaded them to action in this their darkest 
 hour ; and, consonant with the Southern character, 
 either suicidal in its listlessness or desperate in its en 
 ergy, the whole State, from mountain to seaboard, was 
 soon aflame with the contagious spirit of reaction. 
 
 Governor Northborn undoubtedly appreciated this 
 change from the beginning, and his efforts were un 
 ceasing to infuse into the people a sense of the peril 
 which menaced the body politic. In his own apt lan 
 guage, " The Civilization of the Puritan and the Cava 
 lier is in danger ! " This active opposition to his rank 
 and file brought upon him an inevitable revolt, and 
 threats were freely uttered by his compeers that they 
 would no longer abide his fellowship. But the astute
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 263 
 
 Northborn was scheming for a new departure the 
 formation of another party, composed of the better 
 elements among the Republicans and the native whites, 
 of which he was to be the leader ; and to assure the 
 success of the venture, it must possess not only the 
 unanimous but the enthusiastic support of the whites. 
 Upon this ground alone can the motive for some of his 
 reform acts be explained. Although he made no open 
 overtures to the Democrats, yet it was very evident 
 that he desired to effect such a coalition; and his efforts 
 towards its accomplishment continued unabated until 
 after the adjournment of the Democratic convention. 
 
 For the first time since Secession, the people were 
 united ; they only differed now, as then, regarding the 
 means to the end ; they all appreciated the necessity 
 for prompt and successful action. In every household, 
 Reform and Redemption were the constant themes of 
 conversation, and even mere children caught the in 
 fection which spared no honest man. Political princi 
 ples were never discussed ; their importance had dwin 
 dled to insignificance beside the blaze of this other 
 conflagration, and the most confirmed abolitionist of 
 the North would have been hailed with joy as a deliv 
 erer could he have insured relief. To many, Governor 
 Northborn appeared as the man of the hour ; and 
 numbers of the people believed that he alone could 
 meet the exigencies of the day. The earnestness of 
 his reform measures had inspired so much confidence 
 in his honesty of purpose, that had he been able to 
 guarantee success, Northborn would have received, 
 beyond a doubt, the nomination for Governor by the 
 whites. But the very measures which had given him 
 the gratitude of the latter, had also brought about a
 
 264 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 serious defection in the Radical ranks ; and until his 
 position had been finally established, there was never 
 a better illustration of the biblical precept that " no 
 man can serve two masters." Many of the Democratic 
 leaders feared that Northborn would be unable to 
 carry the black vote under their banner, and they 
 justly cited the disastrous failures which had always 
 attended the coalition policy in the past years. Even 
 some of the more conservative were forced to admit a 
 doubt whether the whites would support en masse a 
 man who had been associated so long with these vul 
 tures. Although Northborn had many supporters, 
 who, in addition to his other claims, urged the power 
 ful argument that his nomination would conciliate the 
 powers at Washington, yet gradually, as the time for 
 decision drew near, there appeared two parties among 
 the whites: the one, conservative ; the other, " straight- 
 out " Democratic, which laughed at compromise. 
 
 When the convention assembled, this difference of 
 opinion was at once manifest. The delegates from 
 the coast were generally conservative, while those 
 from the middle and upper counties advocated the 
 " straight-out" policy. To appreciate the position one 
 must understand the difference in life between the two 
 sections. The upper portion of the state enjoys a 
 salubrious climate, is fertile in varied agricultural re 
 sources, and is generally calculated to develop a large 
 white population. The coast or piney-wood region is, 
 on the contrary, mostly poor soil ; it abounds in swamps 
 and morasses, from which the malarial miasm arises, 
 forbidding to some extent the residence of white peo 
 ple ; and though splendidly adapted here and there to 
 the cultivation of certain products, these are limited in
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 265 
 
 their number, uncertain in their yield, and require the 
 negro as a laborer. As a consequence of such natural 
 causes, the blacks congregate largely in the lower coun 
 ties, where they roll up immense majorities on election 
 day. Even at this time some of the interior counties 
 were controlled by the Democrats, or in many instances 
 the Republicans won only by small majorities. Be 
 sides, the negro population in these upper counties is 
 composed of a more intelligent class of people, more 
 amenable to reason than those of the coast region who 
 are literally in a condition of semi-barbarism. No 
 wonder, then, that there should be some conservatives 
 who were dismayed at the very contemplation of con 
 verting a black majority of thirty thousand votes in 
 favor of a purely Democratic ticket. And the marvel 
 is that it ever was accomplished. 
 
 In the convention, whose decision was awaited with 
 anxiety by thousands, the two different lines of policy 
 were long considered ; but finally the mode of action 
 advocated by the "straight-out" men was adopted. 
 Until this conclusion was reached there had been honest 
 differences of opinion ; but afterwards, to the credit of 
 all be it said, an enthusiastic unanimity prevailed until 
 the campaign was gloriously concluded. The essential 
 feature having been determined, the convention de 
 fined more particularly its general policy. In the first 
 place, the party ranks must be recruited from the black 
 vote, the choice of the means to be employed to this 
 end being confided to the local committee of each 
 county ; but, in general, the conciliation of the blacks 
 was enjoined. Their fears must be dissipated ; they 
 must be made to understand the situation and its 
 necessities, and they must be convinced that whatever
 
 266 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 the attitude of the native whites toward the negro in 
 the past, they need no longer fear oppression should 
 the Democratic party resume control. Without forc 
 ing such a conviction upon the negro all other efforts 
 would be useldss. A wonderful change in Southern 
 sentiment ! 
 
 Again, the policy must be vigorous and aggressive. 
 At present the popular pulse was agitated by a feverish 
 enthusiasm ; but the people must not be allowed to 
 despair, reaction must be averted, and the strongest 
 stimulation applied to bring forward the thousands of 
 votes which had never before sought the polls. But while 
 aggressive, the policy should not call for interference 
 by the United States Government. What the Radicals 
 desired most, and the whites feared most, was a period 
 of turbulent and riotous excitement which would 
 excuse the presence of national troops and marshals. 
 To some extent this restraint must be expected, but, if 
 possible, the conduct of the campaign should be peace 
 able. These, then, were the issues: the blacks to be 
 conciliated and their votes obtained at all events ; the 
 sympathy of the country gained, national interference 
 avoided, and the entire people to be roused into a 
 masterful activity. 
 
 The convention was particularly happy in the choice 
 of its candidate for Governor. General Peyteinte had 
 long been known as a strongly conservative man in his 
 views, and as a sincere and practical friend of the 
 negro. Coming of an old family, his people had exer 
 cised for some generations considerable influence over 
 the affairs of the State, and at the present day arc the 
 ruling spirits of their community. General Peyteinte 
 had held subordinate office before the war, and, like
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 267 
 
 the rest of his class, had been very wealthy. The war 
 beginning, he sprang forward to the defense of his 
 State, and fought bravely for what he believed to be a 
 righteous cause ; but with the downfall of the Confed 
 eracy, and the loss of much of his fortune, he calmly 
 and resolutely faced the future with an acceptance of 
 the accomplished results in his heart. From that day 
 General Peyteinte had consistently maintained, both 
 by word and action, the sincerity of that acceptance ; 
 and he unsparingly condemned the political bush 
 whacking of Reconstruction days. He had been one 
 of the first to advocate the investiture of the blacks 
 with the right of suffrage, even before the measure 
 had been determined upon by the national Republican 
 party. But in that day the South heeded not such 
 advice ; in advance of the times in the maturity of 
 these views, his counsels were unavailing, and the car 
 pet-bag government appeared. His nomination as 
 Governor was proof of the change which Southern 
 sentiment had recently undergone. Now, at last, his 
 time had come ; and the people were not only willing 
 to listen to him, but they saw in him the only man who 
 could lead their cause to victory. His candidacy would 
 relieve the anxiety of the North ; more than any other 
 man he could disarm the fears of the negro ; and the 
 universal love which the people bore him would guar 
 antee a flood of enthusiasm sufficient to sweep over all 
 barriers. The Democrats joyfully hailed Peyteinte's 
 nomination, and on the adjournment of the convention 
 the work of the campaign began with an impressive 
 earnestness which amazed the scoffing Radicals. All 
 over the State ratification meetings were held, in which 
 negroes freely participated. All of General Peyteinte's
 
 268 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 former slaves, of whom he had many, announced their 
 determination to support him, and some even offered 
 their services. Perhaps no man of his day enjoyed a 
 truer personal popularity than Peyteinte. Winning 
 those who ventured into his presence by a wonderful 
 magnetism of manner, endeared to many by his gallant 
 comradeship of the battlefield, and respected by all 
 because of his unflinching consistency ; of unquestion 
 able moderation, integrity, and justice ; protecting the 
 blacks on many occasions, and never abusing their 
 confidence, no man possessed to a greater degree the 
 qualifications which the position demanded. His lan 
 guage on accepting the nomination will ever be mem 
 orable. In a voice vibrating with emotion, and his 
 countenance betraying its intensity, he uttered these 
 impassioned words : 
 
 " In the presence of the people of this State, and in 
 the presence of my God, I pledge myself, that if 
 elected, I shall know no party, no race, no color or 
 condition, in the administration of the laws. I shall 
 be Governor of the entire People." 
 
 Within a week or two after the session of the Dem 
 ocrats, the Republicans held their convention. So soon 
 as Northborn perceived that the Democratic nomina 
 tion was beyond his reach, his change of front was 
 immediate. He now devoted himself assiduously to 
 reconciling the dissensions in his own party, and by all 
 the chicanery of political intrigue he endeavored to 
 regain his former control. There was no longer any 
 ambiguity about his position ; he and his supporters 
 denounced the Democrats unsparingly, and hastened 
 to place themselves squarely upon the side of negroism 
 in the coming issue between the two races. In spite
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 269 
 
 of all his efforts, a most bitter opposition was devel 
 oped against him in the convention ; and for a time 
 Northborn's prestige wavered. But the man possessed 
 wonderful talent for organization ; a majority of the 
 delegates were venal, and there really was no one in 
 the party who could with greater chances conduct their 
 campaign to success. So finally, after a lengthy speech, 
 in which he utterly repudiated the Democrats, and the 
 accusation that he would ever again court their ap 
 plause, his intelligence triumphed over the ignorance 
 of the opposition, and Northborn was again the Re 
 publican candidate for Governor.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 
 
 AT about seven o'clock one morning in the early 
 part of August, the Reverend Tomkins was 
 seated on his door stoop, busily engaged in deciphering 
 the contents of a newspaper two days old. The paper, 
 which was of the most pronounced Democratic tenden 
 cies, contained an account of the action of the late Re 
 publican Convention ; and it was upon these important 
 columns that Tomkins now bent the full force of his 
 mental energies. The paper was borrowed from the 
 keeper of a low grocery and groggery, a place fre 
 quented entirely by negroes; and on the previous even 
 ing Tomkins had managed, with the assistance of the 
 proprietor, who was a white man, to acquire an ap 
 proximate idea of the news. Not satisfied with the 
 one reading, he had taken the sheet home; and as soon 
 as he awoke in the morning his thoughts reverted at 
 once to the absorbing subject. Tomkins regarded it 
 as a duty to be informed on current political events ; 
 else, how could he advise his congregation and sustain 
 his reputation as a wise man ? But the labor of read 
 ing alone was very great ; he progressed slowly, spell 
 ing out a word here and puzzling over another there, 
 and sometimes whole sentences would appear whose 
 mysterious meaning was far beyond his reach unless 
 his imagination or memory furnished a clue, Occa- 
 
 (270)
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 271 
 
 sionally a chuckle would escape him, as the doings of 
 the convention met his approval ; but oftener he 
 would utter some hurried exclamation of disgust, 
 excited, not so much by the news, as by the mixture of 
 ridicule and satire with which it was told. 
 
 " Dese Dimicrats tinks 'cause dey publicates de 
 paper in Car'llton dat dey is got all de sense an' edica- 
 tion," mused Tomkins, greatly aggrieved. " Now jest 
 ter read dis! ' The nomination of a black-and-tan tick 
 et.' Did eber eny one eber hears de like o' dat remark? 
 An' furder on, ' Hoisting the black flag ! ' Golly ! dey 
 is kerect dere ! Soon we'se gwine hab none but culled 
 genelmens ter run dis yar State. An' dere's my frien' 
 de Honable Mr. Sharpe ; dat man, I knows, kin mek a 
 highfalutin talk, and dis yar paper calls his speech in 
 de convention ' ground and lofty tumbling." No won 
 der de niggers ob dis yar State wont stan' no sich 
 foolishness ! Dey better nebber nominated Northborn; 
 but den we mus' all stan' by de party, an' we'll teach 
 dese yar white trash, 'tic'larly dem like dat debbil 
 Mixon, dat de niggers don't 'long ter dem no mo' 
 but . . . Hello! what yer wants now, eh?" 
 
 This last question was addressed to a white boy 
 who had just come up to the shanty. 
 
 " Here's a message for you, Daddy Tomkins," an 
 swered the boy, a telegraph messenger. 
 
 " Who's dat yer calls daddy, eh ? Willie Scott, 
 yer's an impident little scrub ! You white chilluns 
 ain't got no mo' manners dan yer pas an' yer mas ! 
 .Yer tinks 'cause a man's skin is black dat yer ain't got 
 no call fur ter gib 'im reberence. Yer's white on de 
 outside, but yer's black'rn sin widin, an' I'se white 
 beneat dis out'rn garmint."
 
 272 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 " Better wash your face then, old man ! " scoffed the 
 boy. 
 
 "I lets yer know," cried the preacher, rising with 
 wrathful dignity, "dat I is de Reberin' Mr. Tomkins, 
 an" ef yer gibs me any yer sass I'll wallup yer ! Does 
 yer hear dat, yer impident little cuss ! " 
 
 "Ah ! ah ! Call you Mister Tomkins? You old 
 Radical nigger, you put on like a white man ! " 
 
 " Gib me de message ! " demanded Tomkins, glar 
 ing fiercely and advancing on the boy. 
 
 " Not 'till you sign that book, Daddy ! Daddy ! 
 Daddy ! " returned the boy, retreating, and ready to 
 seize an opportunity of tormenting a man so univer 
 sally hated by the whites. 
 
 " Willie Scott," said Tomkins, altering his tone from 
 that of anger to one of soft persuasion as soon as he 
 perceived how impossible it would be to catch the 
 nimble footed little fellow ; " Willie Scott, did yer 
 nebber hear tell how de ragin' tigers an' de bars eat 
 up de wicked chilluns 'cause dey calls bad names on a 
 preacher? Is yer gwine ter do as dem bad chilluns 
 done ? Now gib me de book ter sign, sonny; I'se not 
 agwine ter hurt yer." 
 
 " Sure you won't hit me?" asked the boy, doubt 
 fully. 
 
 " In course I won't ; I'd rudder talk ter yer in de 
 words ob wisdom, an' 'swade yer ter depart from de 
 ways ob de wicked, an' ter seek de hebenly blessen' 
 dat's a' shinin' bright as de new yaller gold on de top 
 o' Cabalry Hill. Come, Willie, dat's a good boy." 
 
 Finally, after a little more coaxing, the boy handed 
 the receipt book and telegram to the preacher, who 
 remarked :
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 273 
 
 "Yer might a' done dis widout any fuss, Willie." 
 
 Tomkins slowly scrawled something unrecogniza 
 ble in the book as his signature, and then opened the 
 envelope. 
 
 " Kin yer read dis ? " asked he, after staring hope 
 lessly at the writing. 
 
 " Of course I can ; I go to school every winter," 
 returned the messenger, full of curiosity. " It ain't 
 hard to read," patronisingly ; and the boy read as fol 
 lows : 
 
 " ' Come down on next train and meet me at my 
 house at four o'clock. M. SHARPE.' " 
 
 " Ef yer hadn't been so sassy, Willie, I'd gib yer 
 five cents." 
 
 " Do you think I'd take money from you, nigger ? " 
 answered the boy, again retreating. 
 
 " Git out, yer sassy piece ! " 
 
 " Daddy ! Daddy ! " 
 
 " Yer impident, low-lived, brazen-faced whelp ! " 
 cried the enraged Tomkins, stooping to pick up a pine 
 
 burr ; but the boy was gone. 
 
 ****** 
 
 It was precisely four o'clock in the afternoon when 
 Tomkins rang the door-bell of Sharpe's dwelling. This 
 house, a handsome three-story brick edifice with broad 
 piazzas and a beautiful garden on one side, had been 
 built by a former wealthy family ; but a year or two 
 back, its owner being in financial distress, the property 
 had been sold at auction by the sheriff, and Sharpe 
 had quickly improved the opportunity to purchase 
 a fine residence in an aristocratic neighborhood. Of 
 course, his presence among them was completely 
 ignored by the people around ; as usual, they affected
 
 274 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 not to perceive the disagreeable. Sharpe, however, 
 understood the feeling, and it gave the man a sarcastic 
 pleasure to think with what disgust these haughty 
 aristocrats regarded his proximity. The larger por 
 tion of the house was unfurnished, and was kept 
 constantly closed except for occasional airings. 
 Sharpe was a bachelor, and occupied only a suite of 
 the rooms, but these were superbly appointed, with 
 a lavish profusion of rich furniture and ornament. 
 Various reports circulated around the city from time 
 to time concerning the grand dinners and suppers 
 with which Sharpe entertained his fellow politicians, 
 and of the orgies and mad revelry in which the com 
 pany indulged on such occasions. 
 
 " Is dat you, Mr. Tomkins?" obsequiously exclaimed 
 the negro boy who answered the bell. "Walk in, 
 sah ! Mr. Sharpe is in de settin' room, an' is waitin' 
 fur ye." 
 
 Tomkins entered at once ; he knew the house well, 
 having often been there both on business and pleasure. 
 He walked straight to the room mentioned, which was 
 large and airy, the soft south breezes streaming 
 in through the broad open windows. Sharpe lay 
 stretched in luxurious ease on a lounge placed before 
 one of these windows. He wore a light-colored dress 
 ing-gown of very thin but elegant material, spoiled, 
 however, by its gaudy trimming ; and he was lazily 
 puffing away at a highly flavored cigar. On a center- 
 table were a box of these, and a decanter of wine with 
 glasses. 
 
 " So you are here on time, you sanctimonious sin 
 ner ! " was his familiar greeting, as Tomkins appeared.
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 275 
 
 " Come in ; but shut that door first, I want to talk 
 business." 
 
 The preacher obeyed, and then took his seat in 
 a rocking-chair with the air of one who was perfectly 
 at home. 
 
 " Have a cigar and some wine, old boy. It is good 
 stuff." 
 
 " I knows dat," replied Tomkins, with a grin, and 
 pouring out a glassful. " Dat's why I likes fur to 
 come yar," he added, smacking his lips with great sat 
 isfaction. 
 
 Sharpe looked at him with a sly twinkle in his eyes, 
 and smiled a little ; then throwing away his cigar 
 stump, he raised himself to a sitting posture on the 
 lounge. 
 
 " Well, Tomkins," said he, " I suppose you know 
 that the next campaign is full upon us ? Northborn 
 d n him ! is nominated, but we must stand by the 
 party closer than ever. These white people are stirring 
 up things lively." 
 
 " Pshaw ! dey can't do nuffin but gas. I'd like ter 
 see dem mek any de niggers wot 'tends my church 
 vote dere ticket ! " 
 
 " What is Mixon doing in Belleville ? I saw by the 
 paper that he had a mass meeting last week." 
 
 " Oh, he's cussin' an' tearin' 'round like mad ; but de 
 niggers dey ain't gwine ter listen ter wot he say ! " 
 
 " But he will bulldoze them all the same. It will 
 never do to have him and a lot of his men riding over 
 the country in red shirts and firing off rifles and shot 
 guns. Something must be done to stop that sort of 
 thing, or Mixon will have the county terrorized long 
 before the election. I tell you, Tomkins," exclaimed
 
 276 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Sharpe, with a very confidential air, and bringing his 
 hand down on his knee emphatically, " I tell you, 
 we must get that man Mixon out of the way ! " 
 
 "In course, in course we mus' ;" answered the 
 preacher, brimming over with gratified vanity and im 
 portance. " But ain't we gwine ter hab 'im 'rested fur 
 de murder ob 'Nezzar ? " 
 
 The politician did not seem to notice this question, 
 but after a moment or two of reflection, he asked 
 slowly : 
 
 " Tomkins, would you like to be appointed Justice 
 of the peace in Belleville when the election is over ? " 
 
 " What ? I reckon I does ! " was the delighted 
 answer. 
 
 " Well, you can have it ; nothing easier, if you will 
 serve me now." 
 
 " Sarve ye ? Mr. Sharpe, how kin yer talk so fool 
 ish like! Ain't I allus done as yer said? Ain't I 
 allus sarve ye an" de party ? Don't I mek de niggers 
 ob dat church meet tergedder eb'ery 'lection time and 
 walk up ter de poll in a purcession an' vote jest as 
 yer say ? " 
 
 " Yes, you are a faithful fellow," answered Sharpe, 
 rising and refilling Tomkins' glass ; " but this new 
 service will require some pluck on your part." 
 
 "Jest yer speak de word, Mr. Sharpe! " 
 
 " Well, I will. Suppose, my friend, that on the day 
 after the lynching you had found somewhere near the 
 lake a sleeve-button, a shirt-stud, or a penknife, be 
 longing to Major Mixon. Would not that fact be a 
 strong one against him at the trial ? " 
 
 " Golly! I reckon it would! "
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 277 
 
 " Then why the deuce didn't you find something of 
 the kind ? " 
 
 The preacher stared blankly. His mind was not 
 quick enough to grasp immediately the bold idea 
 underlying the words of the unscrupulous politician. 
 
 " Tomkins, wouldn't you like to see Mixon go to 
 the penitentiary and be out of the way on election 
 day ? " 
 
 " In course I would," promptly responded that 
 worthy. 
 
 " He will go, if you do as I say. We have not 
 enough evidence now to make the case a certainty, 
 and there's no use going into court without conclusive 
 proof, for the Supreme Court has declared that 
 Phelps's election was not legal. That's Northborn's 
 doings again, confound him! Don't you think you 
 could find something like a sleeve-button near the 
 lake?" 
 
 " Mebbe ; I could set de niggers sarchin." 
 
 "Pshaw!" exclaimed Sharpe, with a gesture of 
 annoyance. " Pshaw! do you think you would find it 
 there? No, my friend, you must hunt for it elsewhere. 
 Let me explain. What women servants has Mixon 
 about his house? " 
 
 " Dey has two, one fur' ter cook an' wash, an' 
 t'other ter min' de chilhins." 
 
 " Is either one a particular friend of yours? " 
 
 " Laws sakes, Mr. Sharpe! Dey all 'longs ter my 
 church! " 
 
 " Yes, you rascal, and they would do just what 
 their preacher orders! See here: you must make one 
 of those women procure for you some small article 
 belonging to Mixon, and bring it to me, without fail,
 
 278 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 by day after to-morrow. The women have access to 
 all parts of the house, and it can easily be accom 
 plished. On the trial I will expect you to swear that 
 you found the article near Lover's Lake the morning 
 after the hanging. Do you understand ?" 
 
 "Yes, I does," answered Tomkins, who at last 
 thoroughly comprehended the plan ; " but it's mighty, 
 mighty resky! Ef de Major was fur ter diskiver, he'd 
 hang me quicker'n he done "Nezzar." 
 
 "How could he discover? There's absolutely no 
 risk unless the woman told the secret, and would one 
 of your flock betray you ? " 
 
 " Nebber a -time! Dey'll do jes' as I say, an' keep 
 dere mouf shet, dat's sure." 
 
 " What danger is there, then ? You can also make 
 the woman understand that she runs the same risk ; 
 and if you accomplish this thing you not only serve 
 me, but you serve the party and yourself. I will make 
 it my special business to have you appointed justice 
 after the election, and you know I never break a 
 promise." 
 
 "All right, I'll do it. Yer wants dat sleebe-button 
 by day after ter-morrer ? " 
 
 " Yes, positively. The Democratic County Con 
 vention meets to-morrow, and will adjourn some time 
 the next day. Mixon is a delegate, and is pretty sure 
 to be nominated for something. Don't you see what a 
 splendid stroke it will be to have him arrested just as 
 the convention closes?" 
 
 "Yah! yah! dat it will!" laughed Tomkins, a 
 wicked light gleaming in his crafty eyes. The offer of 
 a reward, although of considerable influence, was not 
 the only motive inducing him to agree to the scheme ;
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 279 
 
 the negro hated Mixon cordially, and he would have 
 gladly embraced any opportunity to pay off some old 
 scores that rankled deep in his heart, provided he 
 incurred no danger; and this little plot seemed per 
 fectly safe. 
 
 The two confederates did not remain much longer 
 in consultation. Sharpe again explained carefully to 
 the preacher the details of the plan, allaying his fears 
 with exquisite tact, and stimulating both his ambition 
 and malice until they were keenly whetted by the 
 prospect of such speedy gratification. Then, pleading 
 business, the schemer dismissed the tool to accomplish 
 his portion of the work. 
 
 On the following evening, a little after dark, Tom- 
 kins was lounging idly near the front gate of Mixon's 
 residence in Belleville. The Major owned a cottage 
 in the town, which his family occupied every summer, 
 to escape the unhealthfulness of a rice plantation. A 
 considerable portion of Mixon's land, that which had 
 attracted Mr. Gildersleeve's attention, was of the 
 " pine barren " character, and perfectly healthful ; but 
 the locality of the "old house," not far from the river 
 and the rice fields, was dangerous during the hot 
 months, when the family always lived in Belleville, 
 Major Mixon riding down to the plantation every 
 morning. 
 
 Tomkins had been standing at the gate for a few 
 minutes, when he heard some one approaching from 
 the house. Retiring at once to a clump of trees, he 
 hid himself until the identity of the person could be 
 ascertained. The preacher had a very good reason for 
 this measure. Only a few weeks before, Mixon, who 
 thoroughly understood the man's character, and who
 
 280 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 was not much given to moderation in his dislikes, had 
 unceremoniously hustled Tomkins off his premises, 
 and threatened to break every bone in his body if he 
 ever caught him on the place again. This was the 
 cause of one of the numerous grudges which Tomkins 
 bore Mixon ; and while he hated him, his experience 
 made him cautious. As soon as he perceived that the 
 coming person was not his enemy, he advanced again 
 to the gate. 
 
 " Is dat you, Hetty?" he queried softly. 
 
 " Yes, brudder, de ting is gone done, but I'se had 
 an awful time," was the answer from a rather small 
 woman. 
 
 "'Sh! 'sh! keep quiet! Let's walk down de road a 
 bit." 
 
 Tomkins led the way, and the two proceeded some 
 fifty yards ; then, leaving the road, they entered the 
 bushes for a little distance. 
 
 " Has yer got de ting fur me sure, honey ? " asked 
 Tomkins, at last, when he was satisfied that they could 
 talk in safety. 
 
 " Yes, brudder, here 'tis. It's a gold sleebe-button, 
 wid some kind o' blue stone in de middle. Ef it 
 hadn't been for you, I wouldn't a' done it, 'cause Miss 
 Carrie is good ter we niggers, an' de ting was "nouf ter 
 mek me sick, anyhow," the woman complained. 
 
 " Why, what de matter wid yer, Hetty ? " 
 
 " Oh, brudder, yer dunno de trouble I gone fru 
 wid ter git dat ting! " 
 
 "What yer mean, 'ooman? Nobody knows about 
 dis, eh ? " asked Tomkins, in some alarm. 
 
 " In course dey don't ; but yer see, eber sence we 
 talk tergedder last night I's been tinkin ober de ting.
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 281 
 
 All day long I nebber had no chance. De Major, he 
 nebber wear any sleebe-button or studs onless he's 
 gwine ter church or ter some comp'ny, an' so yer see 
 he nebber keeps anyting like dat 'round loose like. I 
 knowed he hab some jew'lry, but Miss Carrie she keep 
 it in de wardrobe wid her tings, an* she allus locks dat 
 an' puts de key in her key basket. I was tinkin' all 
 day how fur ter get inter dat wardrobe ! So after din-- 
 ner I gone up ter Miss Carrie's room an' 'gin to go on 
 drefful like. Miss Carrie, she want ter know what 
 ailed me. ' Oh, ma'am,' says I, ' I'se got de mully- 
 grubs jes' fit ter kill ! ' an' den I holler out right 
 smart. ' Hetty,' says she, ' I allus tole yer dat yer eat 
 too much watermelyon. Has yer got any medicine ter 
 take ? ' ' No, ma'am,' says I, ' dat's what I come up 
 fur. Oh ! dose melyons will be de de't o' me ! ' an' 
 den I fall down on de flo' an' Miss Carrie was awful 
 scared. ' Miss Carrie,' says I. ' can't yer gib me some 
 o' dat Painkiller yer has ? It done de niggers on de 
 plantation a sight o' good when dey had de mully- 
 grubs.' 'Yes,' says she, ' I was jes' a' gwine ter gib 
 yer some,' an' she opened de wardrobe an' took out de 
 bottle. I knowed she kep it dere, an' I follered her. 
 So when she gone ter de wash stan* ter pore out de 
 dose, I snatched de sleebe-button from de shelf an' 
 shove it in my bosom. ' Here's de medicine, Hetty,' 
 says she; ' yer mus' tek a big dose ef de pain is so bad.' 
 ' Oh, no, ma'am,' says I, ' I'se sort o' feared o' strong 
 medicine, an' dat medicine is so good I know dat a 
 bery little will cure me. ' I tried not ter tek it all, but 
 she say, ' Don't be a baby, Hetty! ' an' she would mek 
 me swallow ebery bit. Den she say I mus' go ter de 
 kitchen an' sleep. Dat Painkiller is de worstest ting I
 
 282 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 eber tasted ! It burned my whole troat out ! Dis after 
 noon Miss Carrie come ter de kitchen an' asks me how 
 I is. I tell her dat de medicine done cure me, an' she 
 say she nebber knowed it ter fail, an' dat I mus'n't eat 
 no mo' melyons. Here's de sleebe-button, brudder," 
 ended the garrulous Hetty, handing the article to the 
 preacher. 
 
 " Hetty, you'se jes' de spryest 'ooman in dis yar 
 town ! I'se gwine ter Car'llton termorrer, an' I'll bring 
 yer back a string o' mullet.'' 
 
 " Will yer, brudder ? Sure yer won't furgit ? " 
 
 " Fur sartin I will ! But tek care Hetty ; ef de 
 Major knows 'bout dis ting, he'll string we both up 
 same like he done 'Nezzar. Ef dey mek any fuss an' 
 say de button is stole, yer mus' play possum an' know 
 nuffin 'bout it, nuffin at all. Mind what I tole yer last 
 night." 
 
 " Oh, nebber yer be feared, brudder ; dey won't 
 nebber know whar dat button is gone." 
 
 The two remained in conversation some minutes 
 longer, their talk being of a purely personal nature. 
 Then they separated, Tomkins going down the road, 
 and Hetty towards the house. But after walking a few 
 yards the woman stopped under a large oak tree. 
 Kneeling down, she began to dig into the loose sandy 
 soil, using her hands and a stick. Hetty worked briskly 
 for some time, until the hole was about a foot deep. 
 Then she took from her bosom something wrapped up 
 in a piece of paper, and placed it at the bottom of the 
 opening. Throwing back the earth rapidly, and stamp 
 ing it down with her feet, the hole was soon tightly 
 refilled. Finally, the woman gathered some pine straw 
 and scattered it over the spot.
 
 THE SCHEMER AND HIS TOOL. 283 
 
 " No use fur ter tell de brudder 'bout dat, cause 
 he'd only scold. I couldn't git de sleebe button wid- 
 out takin' dat too, an" nobody will eber know it's bur 
 ied dere," Hetty murmured to herself, as she walked 
 on to the house.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE. 
 
 THE next day the very one on which Tomkins 
 was to deliver the sleeve-button to Sharpe the 
 Democratic County Convention was expected to con 
 clude its labors early in the afternoon. It had been in 
 session all of the previous day, when most of its real 
 work was accomplished; and now, in the closing hours, 
 the delegates were engaged upon some routine matters 
 connected with the campaign. As Sharpe had pre 
 dicted, among the candidates chosen for representa 
 tives were Major Mixon, because of the influence he 
 wielded in the rural portions of the county, and Mau 
 rice Graham, as a prominent leader of the younger 
 Democracy of the city. Graham had in vain protested 
 against the use of his name. He urged that his con 
 nection with the late lynching would prevent him from 
 receiving the negro vote ; but the convention insisted 
 upon the wisdom of its choice, and he was obliged at 
 last to accept the nomination. Mixon, on the con 
 trary, raised no objection to the candidacy ; he only 
 smiled a little when he heard of Maurice's doubts, 
 and turning to a friend near by, whispered signifi 
 cantly : 
 
 " I guess some means will be found before the elec 
 tion comes off to make those Bellevilje niggers forget 
 
 (284)
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE. 285 
 
 all about that lynching." He little dreamed then of 
 the coup d'etat which Sharpe was ready to spring. 
 
 About noon that day, Mr. Gildersleeve was seated 
 with Colonel Graham in the latter's library. Being 
 more than ever interested in political events that is, 
 in watching their course and in studying out the causes 
 and principles underlying their succession, for he felt 
 not the least inclination to take an active part the 
 Northerner had come down to Carrollton that morning 
 to have a view of the convention, and had been 
 taken home to luncheon by Colonel Graham. 
 
 " Mr. Gildersleeve," asked the latter, " how do you 
 stand on politics just now ? To be plain, what is your 
 position ? How will you act in the coming election ?" 
 
 " My position ? Can there be any doubt about it ? " 
 returned the other. " I am a straight-out Democrat 
 at least so far as local politics are concerned. Of course 
 I shall vote the National Republican ticket." 
 
 " Don't you remember I predicted that in less than 
 a year your new standpoint would give you another 
 view of Southern questions ? I felt positive that the 
 change would come, and I am glad to hear such a 
 frank expression." 
 
 " Yes, and I laughed at your prediction ! I shall 
 vote the entire ticket, and I am willing to subscribe my 
 share toward campaign expenses. But how about the 
 prospects in this county ? It seems to me that even 
 an ignorant negro cannot fail to perceive the glaring 
 contrast between the two tickets." 
 
 " The difficulty," replied Colonel Graham, " does 
 not altogether lie in their lack of comprehension ; there 
 are many negroes in this very county which contains 
 perhaps the most ignorant class who thoroughly
 
 286 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 understand the character of their leaders. The black 
 man, you know, is timorous ; and timidity breeds con 
 servatism. He remembers that Democracy was iden 
 tified with his slavery, and, so far as he can see, Radical 
 ism has given him his citizenship of the present. How 
 natural, then, that he should imagine danger to him 
 self from a return to power of the party that he has 
 every reason to remember bitterly ! " 
 
 " But can they not be given a better understanding 
 of the situation ? Is there no way of forcing upon 
 them the truth, that the issues of to-day are very dif 
 ferent from those of ten years ago ? " 
 
 " In that lies our only hope ; but to accomplish such 
 a result is very difficult," replied Colonel Graham. 
 " The negro's past experience is a powerful argument 
 against us, and the men who run this Radical party do 
 not scruple to teach them anything that serves their 
 purposes. Our greatest trouble is in reaching the 
 masses and counteracting the influences which bind 
 them together as a solid unit. They do not read, so 
 the assistance of the press is lost. The North con 
 tinually declaims and weeps about the bulldozing 
 which the poor negro endures at the hands of the 
 white man ; but. in truth, no tyranny can be much 
 worse than that which he exerts over his kind. You 
 can scarcely imagine the influence over his free-will 
 exercised by their society, if such it be called, of their 
 churches, and their numerous other organizations. Let 
 a negro be even suspected of favoring Democracy, and 
 the persecution he henceforth endures is enough to try 
 a strong character. He is at once excommunicated 
 by his preacher, and the women curse and revile him 
 as only negro women can. Indeed, as you may have
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE. 287 
 
 witnessed, the abuse of the women is something in 
 describable. The men ostracize him and refuse to 
 work in his company, and he is lucky if he receives no 
 bodily harm before the election. I have even known 
 a man to be deserted by his whole family because the 
 preacher ordered them to leave, and to be driven from 
 plantation to plantation like a mad dog by his relatives 
 and former friends, until at last he was forced to re 
 nounce his heretical opinions. Where can you find a 
 more thorough system of bulldozing, and one so diffi 
 cult of correction ? Still, the remedy must be found ; 
 on that hangs our salvation. Here, in our own city, 
 where law and order are supposed always to prevail, 
 there exists a black organization the ' Hunkadori 
 Club ' whose openly avowed purpose is the intimida 
 tion of any of their race who may espouse Democracy. 
 Already a number of negroes have been badly beaten 
 on the streets." 
 
 " But I should regard that fact as rather encourag 
 ing," replied Mr. Gildersleeve. " That their leaders 
 deem it necessary to use such a species of intimidation 
 argues a change of ideas on the part of the blacks." 
 
 " So it does ; and while we may safely conclude 
 that the more intelligent among them view our cause 
 favorably, we must not forget that the belief is deeply 
 rooted among the ignorant masses that the contest is 
 only a fight between the two races/' 
 
 " But what means have you of enlightening these 
 masses ? " 
 
 "We have two plans, one of which I approve cor 
 dially ; the other I don't condemn exactly, but I doubt 
 its success. The first, of which you have perhaps 
 heard, is simply that of individual effort ; and I believe 
 T
 
 288 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 it to be the safest and surest way to success. The 
 suggestion has been made, and is even now being gen 
 erally adopted, that every white man should consider 
 himself a special committee of one, charged with the 
 duty of obtaining secretly at least one negro vote and 
 seeing that it is deposited in the ballot-box. We must 
 not expect an open avowal of our cause, as very few 
 negroes would dare to publicly acknowledge their 
 Democratic preferences. But there are many who can 
 be influenced privately, and, once satisfied that there 
 is no danger, they will fulfil their promises. If every 
 Democrat in the State should select his particular sub 
 ject and work upon him quietly until the election, we 
 would gain in that way alone more than enough votes 
 to assure success. I do not think all the routine work 
 of political meetings can exert as much influence as is 
 possible by this simple method. Of course, in ordi 
 nary times such a scheme could only be termed chi 
 merical ; it would fail because of a general lack of 
 unity. But when people are moved as we are, when 
 popular enthusiasm in a cause is so intense, this plan 
 of individual effort can not fail to yield a wonderful 
 harvest." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mr. Gildersleeve, " it is this very 
 enthusiasm that inclines me to believe in the success 
 of the movement. I have seen nothing like it since 
 the beginning of the war. I look on every day with 
 amazement, to see how earnest and united the entire 
 white people are ; and if I were not acquainted with 
 the actual situation, I could scarcely understand the 
 causes. I myself am endeavoring to carry out this 
 plan of individual effort, and Pompey, our servant, is 
 my subject. I am determined to secure his vote !
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE, 289 
 
 The other day I gave him a long disquisition 
 on the iniquities of the Radical party and the 
 necessity for reformation. After talking for some 
 time, and noticing that the man's face wore a rather 
 blank look, I asked him whether he understood me, 
 and was completely taken aback by his answer: ' I 
 dunno, boss, fur sartin, but I 'spec' you's cussin' me 
 an' de party.' Well, I shall try him again. But what 
 is this other plan, of which you do not wholly ap 
 prove ? " 
 
 "A proposition has been offered in our executive 
 committee that we should appoint speakers to attend 
 the Radical meetings and demand and compel a joint 
 discussion of the situation. That is really the only 
 way in which we can secure for ourselves a public 
 hearing before the negroes, and contradict the teach 
 ings of their leaders that a Democratic victory means 
 for them a return to slavery. The proposition has 
 been adopted, and will be at once put into execution. 
 I hope for its success, but I fear trouble. Under ordi 
 nary circumstances I would be unalterably opposed to 
 the plan, as I believe it dangerous to popular rights to 
 countenance any interference with private meetings, 
 much less to sanction downright compulsion of joint 
 discussions. But the conditions here are essentially 
 different from those that usually obtain ; we are really 
 in the crisis of a revolution, and if our salvation is to 
 be effected we must not scrutinize too closely all the 
 means employed. Such considerations are proper in a 
 state of peace, and where a strong and pure govern 
 ment rules the land ; but I hold that when our very 
 existence as a political body and as a people is threat 
 ened, and failure means the absence of all that is worth
 
 290 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 having in a government, our actions must be measured 
 by a more liberal rule. Still, I should say that I 
 opposed in the committee this second plan on the 
 ground that it would only end in riot and bloodshed. 
 It is scarcely to be expected that these Radicals will 
 submit tamely to such an infringement of their tutelage. 
 But come our engagement at the hall is for two 
 o'clock, and it is near that time now." 
 
 A few minutes later, the two gentlemen were on 
 their way to the convention, as after the adjournment 
 Mr. Gildersleeve was to be introduced to several prom-- 
 inent leaders of the party from other portions of the 
 State. They walked briskly, their time being short, 
 and as they drew near the hall, on turning a corner, 
 their attention was immediately arrested by an unusual 
 sight on the other side of the street. The sidewalk was 
 occupied by an excited throng of whites and blacks, and 
 the middle of the street was filled with a mob of ne 
 groes, most of them armed with clubs, and who were 
 shouting and reviling the Democracy. A few police 
 men were scattered around, some at the head of this 
 motley procession, which was moving steadily up the 
 street, and the two gentlemen at once supposed that a 
 disturbance had occurred and that the prisoners were 
 being taken to the station-house. But as the crowd 
 came nearer, Colonel Graham perceived his son and 
 Major Mixon among its members, together with some 
 of the best men in the city. Wondering what could 
 have happened, and what Maurice was doing there, he 
 turned to a bystander for information. 
 
 " I thought you knew, Colonel," replied the man. 
 " Major Mixon and Mr. Graham were arrested a few 
 minutes ago, as they came out of the hall, on a charge
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE. 291 
 
 of murder. It looked for a time as if the niggers would 
 bring on a fight ; but Mr. Graham and some other 
 gentlemen quieted the crowd." 
 
 " Whom are they charged with murdering ? " was 
 the breathless inquiry. 
 
 " Oh, those Radicals have raked up that old lynch 
 ing scrape, and propose to make trouble for our candi 
 dates ; but I reckon they'll find Graham and Mixon 
 pretty tough to handle," answered the man carelessly, 
 as he walked on. 
 
 Colonel Graham listened with a bewildered air to 
 this announcement. " In the name of Heaven," he 
 cried, his voice trembling with indignation, " what will 
 those fellows do next ? They neglected to clear up 
 that affair at the time, and now, when the campaign 
 grows hot, no outrage is beyond their audacity ! Good 
 bye, Mr. Gildersleeve, I must see Maurice." 
 
 With these words, Colonel Graham left his aston 
 ished friend and hastily crossed the street. Forcing 
 himself through the crowd, he approached his son, who 
 walked between two negro constables, Major Mixon 
 being similarly accompanied. As soon as Maurice 
 saw his father, he stopped and said : 
 
 "We are going to the office of the justice, sir. 
 Gravoir knows all about this affair, and will attend to 
 everything. It is only a political trick, done for effect; 
 so don't worry yourself, father." 
 
 " Come on, Mr. Graham, I have no time to lose," 
 roughly ejaculated one of the constables. 
 
 " A candidate must expect such annoyances ! " 
 laughed Maurice, as he obeyed. But his laugh, though 
 light, was affected, and in his heart there burned a 
 fierce temptation to strike out on either side and spin
 
 292 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 these two negroes over on the pavement. Major Mixon 
 had said not a word since his arrest, but yielded him 
 self at once, and continued to smoke his cigar tran 
 quilly, as if nothing had happened. 
 
 " Quite a distinguished set of candidates these 
 Democrats have put up ! " sneered a familiar voice 
 close by. 
 
 Colonel Graham turned and saw Sharpe leaning on 
 a tree-box and wearing his usual sarcastic smile. At 
 that moment some negroes took up the cry : " 'Rah fur 
 Mixon an' Graham, de Dimicrat murderers ! " and 
 during a minute or so the street resounded with the 
 shouts of the mob. 
 
 Without noticing these insults, although they sank 
 deep into his sensitive nature, Colonel Graham joined 
 some of the white men in the crowd, and together they 
 walked on to the office of the justice of the peace. 
 
 The preliminary examination of the accused was 
 immediately begun. The evidence submitted was very 
 meagre, consisting mainly of that elicited at the in 
 quest, together with the additional testimony of a 
 negro who swore that Mixon was not at home during 
 the first part of the night on which the lynching was 
 committed. Mr. Gravoir, for the defence, made a 
 strenuous effort to have the case dismissed, but evi 
 dently to no purpose ; and the examination was almost 
 concluded, when Mr. Gildersleeve entered, having with 
 great difficulty forced his way through the dense crowd 
 around the entrance. Mentioning that he wished to see 
 Mr. Gravoir in connection with the case, the constable 
 who stood guard at the door allowed him to enter. 
 
 " Mr. Gravoir," said he, calling the attorney to one 
 side and speaking in a low tone, " you are at liberty to
 
 THE POLITICIANS' STROKE. 293 
 
 use my daughter's testimony whenever you see fit. 
 Of course, this court is not the pleasantest place in the 
 world for a lady, but she will be delighted to assist in 
 clearing an innocent man." 
 
 " My dear sir," returned Gravoir, " that testimony 
 is the last thing we want. They have not a particle of 
 evidence that will hold water, and any but a partisan 
 court would dismiss the case at once. Graham is in 
 no danger." 
 
 " But he would be discharged at once on this evi 
 dence, and spared much annoyance." 
 
 " I doubt that exceedingly ; and it would be sure 
 to give these scoundrels a better grip on Mixon. I 
 can't afford to benefit the one at the expense of the 
 other. This is not an endeavor to promote justice it 
 is a political prosecution, entered upon for party pur 
 poses. It will never do, sir, to lay that much material 
 before an ignorant negro jury ! We must wait until 
 the trial comes off, and then, if you think that the 
 ends of justice, not those of some infamous politicians, 
 will be subserved, I shan't object to the introduction of 
 that testimony. But it will never do to bring it out 
 now ! " 
 
 As this view seemed reasonable, Mr. Gildersleeve 
 at once acquiesced. The examination continued, and 
 was shortly concluded. The justice committed both 
 prisoners to jail. 
 
 Three hours later, on a hastily issued writ of habeas 
 corpus, the prisoners appeared before the circuit judge 
 in chambers. The testimony was reviewed, and the 
 accused were promptly ordered to be discharged on 
 bail, Mixon in the sum of ten thousand dollars, and
 
 294 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 five thousand for Graham, which bail was immediately 
 furnished. 
 
 Hortense Gildersleeve was in Carrollton one day of 
 the following week, and met Mr. Gravoir on the street; 
 in fact, knowing his hour for dinner, she had taken 
 some pains to contrive the meeting. She stopped him 
 at once. 
 
 " Isn't it queer that you lawyers, whose duty it is to 
 see that justice is done, should allow an innocent man 
 to suffer ? " 
 
 " I suppose you refer to Maurice Graham as the 
 martyr," laughed Gravoir. " I thought your father 
 would explain to you my reasons." 
 
 " Oh, I have heard them, and I suppose what you 
 have done is the strictly legal thing. But to have an 
 accusation like that hanging over one's head ! It is 
 simply horrible ! Don't you think so, Mr. Gravoir ? " 
 
 " It is unfortunate, for the delay and annoyance it 
 will cause, of course ; but I also think," slyly con 
 tinued the astute lawyer, " that my partner is very 
 lucky in having gained the interest of so charming a 
 lady." 
 
 Hortense's face turned red in an instant ; and as 
 she felt the crimson tide shoot up to her very brows, 
 she lost her self-control completely, and did the most 
 foolish thing possible. With a hasty bow, she turned 
 and was gone, leaving the astonished lawyer to won 
 der if he had wounded her feelings by perchance hitting 
 the truth. Never again did Hortense approach him 
 on that subject.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 
 
 ONE day toward the close of August, about three 
 weeks after the arrest of Mixon and Graham, 
 the people of Belleville were all in a flurry. For a 
 week the Radicals had been advertising a mass meet 
 ing, to be held near the town on this day, and their 
 leaders had been notified that the Democrats would 
 also send speakers to address the negroes ; in other 
 words, they had been politely informed that the Demo 
 crats proposed to look after their own interests. 
 
 In pursuance of the policy which had been adopted 
 by the reform party, these joint discussions had 
 become quite frequent throughout the State, and 
 wherever the whites were strong, their conduct was 
 generally peaceable ; but, unfortunately, in some local 
 ities the meetings were only scenes of bloodshed and 
 death. Naturally, the Radical leaders resented such 
 interference with their privileges ; and when the move 
 ment was first inaugurated, they endeavored to deter 
 their opponents by assuming a hostile attitude. Fail 
 ing in this, an effort was made to hold meetings secret 
 ly, concealing the time and place. But almost invaria 
 bly a large body of white men would suddenly appear, 
 and their leaders ascend the platform and compel the 
 officers of the meeting to present Democratic and 
 Radical speakers alternately. Indeed, so complete 
 
 (295)
 
 296 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 were the means possessed by the whites fur obtaining 
 information, and so indefatigable were they in execut 
 ing the policy, that the Radicals were soon forced to 
 abandon anything like concealment. In many counties 
 they submitted quietly ; but in others, as the whites 
 succeeded in their efforts, the feeling between the two 
 parties increased in bitterness. The Democrats were 
 tireless in their exertions, and daily the passions of the 
 negroes or, rather, of a certain class of them fed as 
 they were by skillful though unseen hands, became 
 more fiercely aroused. Especially in Carrollton County 
 was the situation critical. Here, as all along the sea 
 board, where the negroes largely predominated, and 
 where they were conscious of their strength when 
 united, the proceedings at these meetings were always 
 tumultuous. As long as the black ranks were not ser 
 iously affected, the unruly negro element did not 
 exhibit any open hostility beyond liberal abuse. But 
 so soon as their cause grew desperate, and the leaders 
 realized that the loss of votes in other portions of the 
 State would probably be heavy, the antagonism 
 between the two races was displayed in several bloody 
 encounters. Very recently the streets of Carrollton 
 had been seized one night by a mob of frenzied negroes, 
 who had been persuaded to believe that the whites were 
 plotting their wholesale destruction ; and only the 
 prompt appearance of the Rifle Clubs saved many lives 
 and much property. People lived in a constant state 
 of anxiety ; for these joint discussions commonly 
 ended in riots, which some at the time believed were 
 only the precursors of a race war. Both sides appeared 
 with arms ; and if the negroes had the advantage of 
 numbers, a disturbance was sure to result. Even when
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 297 
 
 the whites preponderated, their ranks would naturally 
 contain some reckless spirits, and the excitement of the 
 times was so intense that the wrong was as often on 
 one side as the other. The material was too inflamma 
 ble to be always controlled by the more moderate 
 men. 
 
 As a means of self-protection, now that the measure 
 nad been undertaken, the whites began to attend these 
 meetings thoroughly armed and in numbers sufficient 
 to overawe the negroes. At first no intimidation was 
 intended, but in spite of the precautions of many of 
 the conservative men, and mainly because of the neces 
 sity for protection, their actions soon took on such an 
 appearance. The Radical leaders were evidently more 
 than ever disgusted by this turn of affairs, and the 
 press throughout the country began to condemn 
 severely the attitude of the whites, who perceived that 
 they were assuming too much. Owing to these causes, 
 a compromise had been effected between the two par 
 ties just previous to this Bejleville meeting. The 
 Radicals proposed that each side should be represented, 
 but without arms. Sharpe guaranteed the good 
 behavior of the negroes, and asked, as a pledge on the 
 part of the whites, that they should bring no weapons. 
 As this seemed a full accomplishment of their purpose, 
 the Democrats accepted the proposition ; and accord 
 ingly the two parties met to-day in apparently good 
 faith. 
 
 The place of meeting was a large open space on the 
 edge of the town, about a mile from Mr. Gildersleeve's 
 residence. The site had been used during the war as 
 an encampment. A hastily constructed platform had 
 been erected on one side near a heavy growth of pine
 
 298 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 trees, and a table with a few chairs, a bucket of water 
 and a tin cup, completed the outfit. Early in the 
 morning the town was alive with negroes, who came in 
 from the surrounding country for miles ; and before 
 the sun was very high the old parade-ground was 
 swarming with a mass of black humanity. About nine 
 o'clock the train arrived from Carrollton, bringing the 
 Democratic speakers and their escort, to the number of 
 perhaps fifty men. When the two parties met, the 
 whites, reinforced by those of the town, amounted to 
 about two hundred ; and there were at least six hun 
 dred negroes present. 
 
 Among the Democratic speakers were Francis Gra- 
 voir and Maurice Graham. Mr. Gildersleeve, in 
 response to an earnest request, occupied a seat on the 
 platform. He had at first declined ; but it being 
 argued that because of his well - known Northern 
 nativity, such a display of good-will towards the cause 
 could not fail to impress the negroes, he consented, and 
 took a place among the Democrats. Maurice Graham 
 had scarcely arrived when he noticed a curious feature 
 of the gathering. The negroes were very orderly 
 indeed, their extreme quiet appeared to him as rather 
 unnatural ; and instead of being scattered all over the 
 grounds, as was generally the case, they were densely 
 massed on one side of the stage with the pine forest in 
 their rear, the whites being placed towards the road. 
 Such unusual disposition of the blacks seemed singu 
 lar, as the two colors were accustomed to mingle pro 
 miscuously until bad temper was displayed. On the 
 arrival of the Democrats to-day, the negroes were 
 found arranged in this compact body, so that all inter 
 mingling was impossible. However, Maurice did not
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 299 
 
 at the time attach any great importance to his observa 
 tion, although he had no faith whatever in the promise 
 of Sharpe to maintain order. He did not believe these 
 joint meetings to be judicious ; but if they were to be 
 held, he considered it mere folly to entrust the safety 
 of the whites to the promises of the Radical leaders. 
 
 It was while in this frame of mind that Maurice 
 met Mixon, and he called the latter's attention to the 
 arrangement of the blacks, adding : " Now, if Sharpe 
 breaks his word, or is unable to restrain the negroes, 
 should they become excited, our position will be rather 
 delicate without any arms." 
 
 At this moment Maurice was called to take his seat 
 on the stage, and shortly after Mixon left the grounds, 
 followed by several men. 
 
 The meeting was at last called to order by Sharpe, 
 who proposed Mr. Gravoir and the Rev. Mr. Tomkins 
 as chairmen respectively for the two parties. When 
 quiet had been restored, Mr. Gravoir began his address 
 to the negroes, which occupied a half-hour. In simple 
 words he explained the situation and the necessity for 
 reformation. He denounced the opposite party, but 
 avoided all personalities. He showed the negroes how 
 the State was being sunk deeper each year in degrada 
 tion, and how they must inevitably suffer in the general 
 ruin. Finally, he laid bare the false statements of 
 their leaders, that the Democrats were seeking to re- 
 enslave them, and ended with an eloquent appeal for 
 the new party. 
 
 At the conclusion of his remarks, Mr. Tomkins 
 arose : " My cullud bred'ren an' fellah-citizens ob de 
 Tublikin party! We hab 'sembled tergeclder dis yar 
 mornin', jest same like de tribes ob Israel done dat yer
 
 300 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 hear tell on in de Good Book. My bred'ren, we'se got 
 ter wentilate a 'mentous question dat's a' starin' ye 
 right plump in de eye! Is yer a honest, true ter de 
 backbone, double-jinted 'Publikin, or is yer one ob 
 dem 'sneakin', 'ceitful, slapsided niggers wot's listenin' 
 ter de voice ob de debbil as it purceeds fru* de mouf 
 ob dese Dimicrats? [Sensation among the whites.] 
 Dat's de question dat's knockin' at yer door, nigger! 
 Is yer gwine let 'em in ? I mean you, Sam Johnson, 
 an' you too, Bill Pinetree, an' all you niggers! [Tom- 
 kins here gave his arms a magnificent sweep.] Is 
 yer standin' close ter de party ? Is yer huggin' up de 
 party? Is yer 'bracing de party as chilluns should 
 'brace dere mudder? My bred'ren, de day ob retribu- 
 lation is close nigh yer ef yer don't wrastle wid de 
 enemy wot's sarchin' fur yer heart! Stamp "em down, 
 my chilluns, fur dey is mo' pizen ter yer dan de wile 
 cat or de rattlesnake! I asks you niggers, is yer got 
 all de freedom dat you's 'llowed ter hab ? Den why 
 does yer hab ter listen ter dese white mens while 
 dey's cussin' yer party ? Is dere any nigger yar wot's 
 fool 'nouf ter b'lieve dere 'guilin' words? Doesn't yer 
 know dat de sarpint is seekin' fur ter 'snare yer agin, 
 an' kin yer 'spec' de Yankees fur ter help yer any mo' 
 when yer done gone surrender yer liberties? Listen 
 ter de words ob warnin', O my bred'ren! Listen ter 
 de leaders ob yer party, O my chilluns! Listen ter 
 de preachin ob de Scripture, O ye sinners! an' tek de 
 road wot leads ter de hebenly blessin'! In de words 
 ob Solomon, I say onter yer, my bred'ren : ' My son, 
 'tend ter my words; "cline dine ear onter my sayin's. 
 Let dem don't depart from dine eye. Keep dem in
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 301 
 
 de kernel ob dine heart. Fur dey is life onter dose 
 wot finds 'em, an' meat an' drink ter all dere flesh.'" 
 
 Tomkins stopped to wipe the profuse perspira 
 tion from his face, and then continued : " I hab de 
 honor ter interduce ter yer 'tention our 'stinguished 
 fellah-citizen an' devoted frien' de Hon'able Michael 
 Sharpe. We hab come yar dis day ter listen ter de 
 words ob wisdom as it will purceed fru' de mouf ob 
 dat noble genelman. All you niggers owe Mr. Sharpe 
 eberlastin' gratitoode, fur durin' dese days ob political 
 prosecution, sence de day when de Union come in, 
 he hab stood by us an' purtected us in our freedom. 
 Dat great an' glorious man, Massa Linkum, de 'bidin' 
 frien' ob de nigger, afore he was transpired to Abra 
 ham's buzzom in de golden Ian', sent Mr. Sharpe an' 
 de oder leaders ob de Tublikin party ter gedder us 
 tergedder under dere wings same like a hen gedders 
 her chickens or de shepherd gedders his sheep in de 
 fold. Is dere any black sheep in dis yar neighborhood 
 wot won't listen ter de shepherd ? Is dere any nigger 
 present who will fly ter de enemy's camp, 'tracted by 
 de sight ob gold ? Dere is sich niggers, my bred'ren, 
 but we'll treat 'em as de blessed Lord done dose wot 
 bought an' sold in de Holy Temple. So tek care, all 
 you niggers wot don't want ter be cast out ter whar 
 dere's wailin' an' crashin' ob teeth! Yer mustn't hab 
 nuffin ter do wid de Dimicrat niggers, 'cause dey is 
 sinners on de road ter hell! An' you 'oomans, tek 
 care dat yer mans don't 'sociate wid de Dimicrats, fur 
 dere paths is de paths ob de wicked an' leadeth ter de 
 sea ob destruction! An' now, my frien's, I will inter- 
 duse ter ye de, Hon'able Mr. Sharpe, who will teach 
 ye, better dan wot I kin, de duty ob de hour."
 
 302 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 The negroes, particularly the women on the out 
 skirts of the crowd, hailed Tomkins' speech with great 
 applause, and it was some time before order could be 
 restored. A few of the whites grew rather restive 
 under some of the preacher's remarks, which, indeed, 
 were bolder than usual. Unfortunately, there were 
 some imprudent men among the Democrats, and a 
 young fellow, evidently intoxicated, attempted once to 
 interrupt the speech, but was promptly suppressed and 
 removed from the grounds. These joint discussions, 
 being generally the scenes of disorder and excitement, 
 would naturally attract some of the rougher white 
 element of the city ; and although every effort had 
 been made to keep this class away from the meeting 
 to-day, there were a few present who only needed 
 encouragement to precipitate a general row. 
 
 Sharpe began his memorable speech with a violent 
 denunciation of the course pursued by the Democrats 
 in intruding themselves on the meeting. He termed 
 their conduct " audacious interference with the rights 
 guaranteed by the Constitution," and protested against 
 such usurpation of authority. He blamed them for 
 the disorder that now existed, and advised the negroes 
 to protect themselves at all hazards. " You have 
 to-day a weak sample of what awaits you if the Demo 
 crats return to power. Means will be found to render 
 your votes useless, and the pall of oppression then 
 encompassing you will be more deadly than the black 
 est slavery. They tell us, my friends, that they will 
 secure the election even if force must be used. Then 
 I tell you, defend yourselves ! Your all is at stake ! 
 Have you not strong men ? Have you not arms ? 
 Can you not fight ? Then I say unto you, if the black
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 303 
 
 man's blood must flow, let the white man's blood color 
 the stream ! " 
 
 The Democrats listened in astonishment to this 
 virulent attack, more incendiary than any of the lead 
 ers had ever attempted in their presence. The 
 negroes began to grow visibly excited, and it was 
 plain that some of the whites were chafing under the 
 steady torrent of abuse. If Sharpe had purposely 
 designed to set aflame the passions of both parties, he 
 could not have chosen more effective words. Sud 
 denly he abandoned generalities, and launched forth a 
 bitter personal attack upon some of the Democrats 
 present. As his scorching words were cast right and 
 left with an utter disregard of truth, the undercurrent 
 of excitement pervading ,the meeting increased each 
 moment in intensity. Sharpe denounced Mixon as 
 a bloody murderer and Maurice Graham as his traitor 
 ous accomplice. In burning language, well calculated 
 to arouse the indignation of the whites and to fire the 
 negro's excitable nature, he drew a graphic picture of 
 'Nezzar's fight for life, of the unfounded accusation 
 Mixon and his gang had held over the unfortunate 
 man, of the winter in the forests and swamps, " a freed- 
 man hounded like a slave, starving and cold, ragged 
 and wounded," of the surrender to the authorities, and 
 of the base perfidy that had repaid a trust with the 
 halter. 
 
 A white man leaped forward in front of the stage ; 
 he was the same drunken young fellow who had been 
 removed early in the meeting. " Och ! take this ye 
 lying spalpeen ! " he cried, almost crazed with drink and 
 excitement ; and as he discharged the pistol, an enor 
 mous negro who had been leaning on the platform 
 U
 
 304 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 felled him senseless to the ground with a single blow 
 of a club. The ball flew in the air, hitting no one ; 
 but like magic the previous ominous silence was con 
 verted into a scene of the wildest disorder. The negroes 
 yelled in fury, and with the fall of the Irishman a 
 dozen pistol shots were discharged from their ranks. 
 Some of the whites immediately returned the fire, and 
 the negroes rushed upon them in a body, more like 
 demons than human beings, and armed with almost 
 every variety of weapon. A general stampede of the 
 unarmed whites ensued down the road, except a few 
 who formed a group and kept a portion of the negroes 
 at bay until their revolvers were emptied ; then, several 
 of their number having fallen, they joined in the flight 
 which promised to end in massacre. So far, the attack 
 was unorganized ; but as the last of the whites fled, a 
 hundred negroes, in company front and bearing militia 
 muskets, dashed out from the pine forest. Crossing 
 the parade-ground at double-quick, a passage being 
 opened for them as if by preconcerted agreement, they 
 hastened in hot pursuit of the flying whites, and before 
 they had reached the road, the heavy reports of their 
 guns were added to the terrible confusion. 
 
 When the young Irishman appeared in front of the 
 stage, Mr. Gravoir sprang up to order him removed ; 
 but ere the words had left his mouth the mischief was 
 done. He then turned upon Sharpe, imploring him 
 to restrain the negroes. 
 
 "That is beyond my power now. Your own men 
 are to blame. Look to your lives, gentlemen ! " was 
 the hasty answer, as the politician jumped to the 
 ground and disappeared with the other Radical speak 
 ers among the negroes. Realizing that all further
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE, 305 
 
 effort to quiet the mob was useless, Mr. Gravoir turned 
 to fly, and with Maurice started to join the group 
 which was returning the fire of the negroes. 
 
 " Great God ! " exclaimed Maurice, in horror. 
 " There's Mr. Gildersleeve ! " Looking back, he per 
 ceived that the Northerner had fallen and was lying 
 motionless on the stage. With a few rapid bounds, 
 Maurice was beside his prostrate friend, and lifting 
 the tall but slender frame in his strong young arms, he 
 leaped from the platform. As he reached the ground, 
 the weight bore him down, and Mr. Gildersleeve's 
 gold watch, worn without a guard, rolled off a little 
 distance. Extricating himself, Maurice was about to 
 raise his burden again, when he saw a negro close upon 
 him with an uplifted club. In an instant he had drawn 
 his revolver, and as the weapon swung round to 
 descend, he fired. Uttering a yell of pain, the man's 
 arm fell helpless by his side, but at almost the same 
 moment he threw with unerring aim a half brick from 
 the other hand. Maurice fell back, without a groan, 
 alongside his friend. Seizing the watch, the negro 
 turned and sped away toward the woods. 
 
 In a few minutes more the parade-ground was de 
 serted by the combatants, the whites flying precipi 
 tately down the road toward town ; and there remained 
 now only some unarmed negroes, among whom were a 
 few women. These quickly set to work robbing 
 the dead and wounded, and otherwise gratifying their 
 devilish instincts. Several had just begun to remove 
 Maurice's clothing, when a sudden change in the sounds 
 down the road caused them to desist in alarm. A 
 negro came running back at full speed, yelling, " De 
 Dimicrats is comin' ! " Following him came others,
 
 306 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 and still more, until a crowd of blacks was sweeping 
 across the parade-ground in a panic-stricken mass. 
 The heavy roll of musketry had ceased, and nearer 
 each minute cOuld be heard sharp quick detonations in 
 rapid succession, telling of the approach of rifle 
 men ; and before the forest had enclosed the last of 
 the negroes, some forty white men appeared, firing as 
 they ran. Major Mixon was well in advance, and his 
 face wore a determined, relentless expression, as piti 
 less as the cold gleam of his Winchester. Pursuers 
 followed pursued among the pines, and gradually 
 the sounds became more distant. After a time they 
 ceased entirely, and all was still, save for the groans of 
 wounded men. 
 
 The militia of the State had been for years in the 
 hands of the negroes, and they or their white asso 
 ciates held every office from major-general to corporal. 
 The whites had never been allowed to form a part of 
 this body, for which, indeed, they had no inclination ; 
 but in the last few years they had reorganized some of 
 their old military companies under the name of " Rifle 
 Clubs," having in view a social organization. Gradu 
 ally, owing to the laxity of the constabulary power, 
 and to the aggressiveness of the negroes, the people 
 came to regard these clubs as an armed force which 
 could be quickly utilized for the preservation of order 
 in times of excitement. The knowledge that the whites 
 were prepared for emergencies had produced a salu 
 tary effect upon a desperate class of negroes. But in 
 Carrollton, where the campaign was under the control 
 of the more conservative Democrats, the repeated for 
 bearance of the whites under great provocation, and
 
 A TERRIBLE OCCURRENCE. 307 
 
 when the negroes were completely at their mercy, had 
 inspired a number of the latter with contempt for the 
 clubs. Threats began to circulate freely among the 
 negroes, of a plan to break into the unprotected arm 
 ories and seize the weapons. The clubs at once sta 
 tioned a detail of men every night to guard their prop 
 erty ; and thus it was that their enemies came to call 
 Carrollton "an armed camp." 
 
 This Belleville riot was only one of a number of 
 such events which had occurred in various portions of 
 the State since the opening of the campaign, and in 
 general the negroes had suffered fearfully. When 
 Northborn and the other leaders perceived that the 
 whites were not to be deterred by bloodshed, and that 
 their cause was suffering from the repeated thrashings 
 the negroes received, they quickly decided on another 
 plan of action. It was not long afterwards before that 
 famous Presidential proclamation was issued, com 
 manding all those unlawful bodies of men known as 
 " Rifle Clubs " to disband within three days ; and at 
 the same time, instructions were issued to the general- 
 in- chief of the national forces to station troops at 
 various localities in the State. From that time on, 
 until late in the winter, the old parade-ground was 
 again used as an encampment this time, however, by 
 the blue-coats of the regular army. The whites 
 obeyed the governmental mandate ; but though their 
 uniforms were discarded and the armories abandoned, 
 each man knew where to find a rifle and cartridges 
 should the necessity arise to defend his home.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 
 
 WHEN the Democrats had agreed to the propo 
 sition of the Radicals, that each party should 
 attend this meeting without arms, there were others 
 besides Maurice Graham who distrusted the sincerity 
 of their opponents, and who considered the action of 
 their county committee as of doubtful propriety. 
 Major Mixon had carefully watched the crowd of 
 negroes that morning, and long before his talk with 
 Maurice he had concluded that a serious difficulty was 
 anything but an impossibility. Imparting his suspi 
 cions only to a few friends, he left the grounds with 
 these, as the meeting opened, and the party proceeded 
 to a distant portion of the town where was situated the 
 residence in which were kept the arms of the Belle 
 ville Rifle Club. A covered wagon having been pro 
 cured, the rifles were transferred to a house about a 
 half-mile from the parade-ground, without attracting 
 observation, owing to the deserted condition of the 
 roads. After placing a guard, Mixon and his friends 
 returned to the meeting, where they quietly circulated 
 among the whites and informed the club members of 
 the arrangement. When the disturbance began, there 
 was an immediate rush of these men down the road to 
 obtain their arms, thus misleading not only the negroes 
 but also the rest of the whites. The violent nature of 
 
 (308)
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 309 
 
 Sharpe's speech had caused many to apprehend trouble 
 before the close of the meeting, and although the occur 
 rence of the difficulty was sudden, it was not wholly 
 unexpected. Unarmed, and believing themselves en 
 trapped, it needed only the apparent flight of some of 
 their staunchest men to throw the crowd of Democrats 
 into a disorder which quickly became a general panic. 
 Of course, it was some time before Mixon and his 
 men could procure their weapons, which gave the infu 
 riated negroes opportunity to do some deadly work in 
 the rear of the retreating whites. But at the very 
 height of their exultation, the blacks were suddenly 
 astonished to see the road swarming with riflemen. 
 Both parties perceived at once that a desperate encoun 
 ter was inevitable, and each instinctively felt that the 
 conflict was one of races, and that on its issue hung 
 the future supremacy of either side in this little town 
 of Belleville. With a cheer, such as some of them 
 loved to call "the old rebel yell," the maddened 
 whites dashed down from the crest of a gently sloping 
 hill upon their foes. Shots were rapidly exchanged for 
 a few minutes, all except the combatants quickly get 
 ting out of range. As the two parties drew closer, the 
 fire of the whites became almost continuous ; directed 
 by skilled hands, its steady precision seemed to stun 
 the blacks, whose undisciplined ranks were not 
 long able to withstand the fatal effect, and slowly 
 the current began to ebb backwards. For a time the 
 musketeers were deliberate and obstinate in their re 
 treat, dodging among the trees along the road and 
 answering the fire of the whites as fast as they could 
 reload. But the fight was unequal ; the muskets of 
 the negroes were no match for breech-loading rifles,
 
 310 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 and the flight soon again became headlong. Never for 
 a moment did Mixon think of checking his men. No 
 ray of mercy shed its softening light upon his smoke- 
 begrimed countenance ; but yielding to the intoxica 
 tion of the chase, and relentless as the sleuth hound, 
 his inflexible purpose was to avenge the cruel treach 
 ery of the negroes and their leaders. So with wild 
 shouts he led on his riflemen to inflict on the now 
 defenceless wretches a punishment which should be 
 memorable for years to come. Into the forest both 
 parties plunged, and only with exhaustion did the 
 work cease. How many negroes were killed will never 
 be known. Some fifteen of their dead were counted ; 
 but undoubtedly others fell among the pines, and owing 
 to the negro's secretiveness on such matters, no relia 
 ble account was ever obtained. Perhaps none was 
 sought. In the afternoon Mixon graciously allowed 
 some of the blacks from town to remove their dead 
 and wounded. 
 
 The casualties among the whites were not so numer 
 ous, but were severe, as they included several valuable 
 citizens. Six were killed outright, and some twenty 
 odd were more or less severely wounded. Among the 
 dead was found an old, crippled, silver-haired gentle 
 man of the town, upon whom no bullet wound could 
 be discovered, but his body, blue and disfigured, 
 showed that he must have been literally beaten to 
 death. 
 
 Soon after the negroes fled before the riflemen, the 
 whites in the rear formed a relief party to remove the 
 dead and care for the wounded. It was while engaged 
 in this work that some of the men saw Mr. Gilder- 
 sleeve sitting under a tree. At the very beginning of
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 311 
 
 the difficulty he had received a scalp wound from a 
 flying bullet, which laid him senseless for a time. Re 
 covering his consciousness after Maurice had fallen, 
 he perceived some of the negroes near by ; and 
 although he scarcely understood the situation, his first 
 instinctive thought was to keep quiet and avoid attract 
 ing their attention. His mind becoming clearer and 
 the pain in his head more acute each minute, his senses 
 were soon aroused into almost abnormal activity. He 
 could hear some negroes narrating their individual 
 exploits, and laughing over the discomfiture of the 
 whites. To his intense dismay Mr. Gildersleeve heard 
 a voice proposing to take off somebody's clothing, and 
 he expected each moment that violent hands would 
 seize his person. He did not know then that Maurice 
 was lying so near. Suddenly, while suffering the 
 keenest apprehension as to what would happen next, 
 and realizing how helpless he was to defend himself, 
 Mr. Gildersleeve became aware that the negroes had 
 been disturbed in their work. In a minute or two 
 more he could hear the sounds of rapidly running men, 
 some of whom, indeed, trampled over his body. Like 
 a mighty storm the tumult of the fight again broke 
 upon his bewildered 'ear, and for a time yells and 
 curses, rifle shots and burning powder, made up a din 
 as though hell were let loose. Lifting his head slightly, 
 he perceived that the negroes were retreating in wild 
 disorder before the whites. When all was still again, 
 he raised himself into a sitting posture, and looking 
 around he saw Maurice for the first time. Almost 
 forgetting his intense pain in the astonishment of the 
 moment, he bent over and examined his friend. Mau 
 rice was stretched flat on his back, his upturned face
 
 312 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 exposed to the blistering rays of the sun. A mass of 
 clotted blood on one side of the head showed with 
 what terrible force the missile had been thrown ; and 
 except for the deep heaving of his chest in its strug 
 gles for breath, he lay as one who was dead. Mr. 
 Gildersleeve was so shocked at the pitiful sight that he 
 gazed for a few seconds in almost stupefied amaze 
 ment. There was no one near to whom he could call 
 for help ; but still this young man must not be allowed 
 to die if it were possible to save his life. The North 
 erner endeavored to stand up, but his head swam 
 round and round when he rose, and he sank again to 
 the ground. But if he could not walk, he might crawl 
 to the road and see if he could discover any one. 
 Acting at once on the thought, he began to move 
 slowly ; but the pain in his head was so severe, and he 
 felt so faint and thirsty, that his progress was very 
 labored, and it was while resting for a minute in the 
 shade of a tree that he was noticed by the relief party. 
 The men quickly supplied him with water, and as soon 
 as his parched tongue had been moistened he directed 
 them to Maurice. 
 
 Of what followed, Mr. Gildersleeve had afterwards 
 only a dim recollection, as of -a painful dream. He 
 remembered that the men brought Maurice into the 
 shade under the tree, and presently a wagon came 
 rumbling up in which they were both placed. He told 
 the two men in charge, one of whom was supporting 
 Maurice's head, to take them to his house ; and then 
 the rough conveyance started for the road. 
 
 Reaching the residence, Hortense met the party at 
 the gate. She had known nothing of the fight until, 
 seeing some white men flying down the road, and hear-
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT, 313 
 
 ing the distant sounds, her heart was filled with a 
 vague terror. Running out, she reached the entrance 
 just as Maurice was lifted from the wagon, and her 
 father told her to open the bed-room opposite the 
 parlor for their friend, who was badly wounded. Hor- 
 tense hastened away, all in a flutter of excitement and 
 horror at the announcement, and scarcely was the room 
 prepared before the men entered with Maurice. They 
 laid him in the bed, and after seeing Mr. Gildersleeve 
 comfortable on the lounge, the men departed, promis 
 ing to send a doctor as soon as possible. 
 
 When Mr. Gildersleeve looked again at the young 
 man he felt deeply anxious. Maurice was lying very 
 quiet ; in fact, dangerously quiet, he thought. His 
 face was colorless except where smeared with blood, 
 and he seemed perfectly unconscious. His breathing 
 was hard, like a man snoring, and with every breath his 
 nostrils worked to and fro. 
 
 " What do you think ? " Hortense asked, tremu 
 lously. She had been watching her father's face, and 
 perhaps in its expression she caught some reflection of 
 his thoughts. 
 
 " I think our friend's condition is very grave. Why 
 can't they send a doctor ? He will die if something is 
 not done ! " 
 
 Hortense had just finished bathing her father's face 
 with some cool water. She left the room, and shortly 
 returned with a fresh bowl. " Perhaps this will revive 
 him," she said, gently applying the moist towel. But 
 Maurice gave no sign of returning consciousness, and 
 her heart sank in despair. What could she do ? Oh, 
 the bitter helplessness of not knowing what to do 
 when death is nigh ! How keenly is such ignorance
 
 314 T//E SHADOW OF THE WAR 
 
 realized when only knowledge and skill can promise 
 a return of love and life ! Hortense felt almost 
 overcome by this sense of helplessness, and her be 
 wilderment was too great for pain. She racked her 
 brain to no purpose ; all she could think of was cam 
 phor water, but her father said she had better not try 
 that, as it might do harm, and he also objected to the 
 wine which she next suggested. 
 
 " Are there any servants about the place ? " Mr. 
 Gildersleeve asked. 
 
 " No, they all went off after breakfast, and mother 
 has been in bed the whole morning with a sick head 
 ache. She knows nothing of this trouble." 
 
 " If I only had a servant ! " exclaimed her father. 
 " There is no use waiting for that doctor ; he might 
 not come before evening, and Graham may die in the 
 meanwhile." 
 
 " But what can we do ? " she almost sobbed. 
 
 " If I could telegraph to Carrollton, but how to 
 send the message to the office ? I could not walk to 
 that door." 
 
 " Why, I will take it, father ! " she exclaimed, spring 
 ing up from the chair and kneeling by his side. 
 
 " Impossible, dear ; you might meet some of those 
 negroes." 
 
 " Oh, no I won't ! indeed I won't, father ; please let 
 me, or he will die! " she pleaded, half crying. "And 
 if he dies without help, we will blame ourselves. You 
 know," she continued, speaking very rapidly, " he 
 risked his life for us once, and what is it to go down 
 to the depot ? If I meet any negroes I will come 
 straight back." 
 
 " My dear, it is a long walk, and the risk is too much
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 315 
 
 for you to run. Those negroes ! Ah ! what demons 
 they can be ! What a country ! " He shuddered as 
 the events of the morning swept across his mind. 
 
 " Then let me go to the neighbors and see if I can 
 find a man to escort me," she persisted. 
 
 " Yes, that may do," her father assented. Hortense 
 flew out of the room, and soon returned armed with 
 pencil and paper and a city directory. A music-book 
 in her lap furnished a writing tablet, and she awaited 
 her father's instructions. 
 
 " First, inform Colonel Graham " 
 
 " Oh, don't you know that all the Grahams have 
 gone to New York for two weeks ? " 
 
 " I had forgotten. Telegraph to Dr. Marrows, the 
 surgeon, and tell him to come immediately, at any fee 
 he wants ; say that the road will furnish a special train. 
 Then send the same message to Dr. Leigh, your moth 
 er's physician, requesting him to meet Dr. Marrows ; 
 the surgeon will probably need help. Finally, another 
 to the superintendent of the road, asking for an imme 
 diate engine and car, at my expense, to bring the phy 
 sicians." 
 
 Hortense's pencil ran rapidly over the paper, and 
 presently the first message was written. " Will this 
 do? " she asked, reading. 
 
 " A terribly long telegram ! But never mind, go on!" 
 
 The pencil started again, and in a short time all 
 three were written. Her straw sunshade was quickly 
 obtained, and with a kiss to her father she departed on 
 her errand. Hortense went at once to the nearest 
 house, but there she found only some women who were 
 almost terrified out of their wits by the happenings of 
 the day. A little discouraged, but not disheartened,
 
 316 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Hortense returned to the road, where not a soul was 
 in sight. Why not go herself ? If she spent the time 
 in wandering about from house to house with long dis 
 tances between, would she not run as much danger 
 and lose moments that were valuable ? She had never 
 disobeyed her father ; but just now he was sick and not 
 fitted to judge, while she was on the spot and could 
 see no danger. If there were any negroes around, 
 perhaps it would not be prudent to venture too far 
 from home. But the way was clear, and yonder lay a 
 man who might die. No, she would not delay a mo 
 ment ; she would be the messenger, and afterwards she 
 could beg her father's pardon if he were angry with 
 her. 
 
 She started at a rapid pace, and was soon away down 
 the road. She saw no one, until suddenly a white 
 man rode out from the trees directly across her path. 
 
 " Where are you going, Miss Gildersleeve ? " asked 
 the horseman, whom she recognized as one of the town 
 citizens. 
 
 " Down to the depot, to send off some messages," 
 was her answer. 
 
 " Well, see here, Miss, you had better take this," 
 producing a revolver. " When you pass through Nig 
 ger Town, some of the people there might look ugly, 
 seeing that you are alone. I would offer to take the 
 message for you, but Major Mixon has stationed me 
 here with peremptory orders to watch the roads and 
 not to leave this corner unless I hear firing. So if any 
 nigger troubles you, just shoot off that little gun and 
 I'll be along." 
 
 " Is the fighting all over ? " asked Hortense. 
 
 " Oh, Lord ! yes, ma'am, the niggers are mighty
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 317 
 
 scarce now I reckon the whole town is patrolled by 
 this time." 
 
 " Can you tell me what has become of Mr. Gravoir ?" 
 
 " He is wounded in the shoulder, I b'lieve. I 
 
 helped to carry him to Mr. S 's house, other side 
 
 of town." 
 
 Having taken the pistol, Hortense placed it in a 
 pocket of the loose jacket she wore ; then, with thanks 
 to the man, she proceeded on her way. Until he 
 stopped her, she had never thought of Nigger Town, 
 which was a collection of huts and shanties on one 
 side of the road and tenanted by the vilest portion of 
 the negro population. Even Tomkins did not consider 
 the locality respectable. On approaching the place, 
 Hortense crossed to the opposite side, so as to be as 
 far as possible from any danger ; and as she was con 
 gratulating herself that not a person was to be seen, 
 several negro women rushed out from one of the huts 
 and coolly awaited her coming as though to dispute the 
 passage. The girl could vaguely imagine some horri 
 ble fate if she should fall into the hands of these vira 
 goes ; but her spirit rose equal to the occasion, and 
 never for a moment did she falter in her purpose. The 
 telegrams must be sent ! With firmly compressed lips, 
 her features becoming drawn almost harshly in their 
 expression of a determined purpose, and with a gleam 
 in her eyes that had never been seen there before, she 
 advanced resolutely until within a few feet of the 
 women. 
 
 "Get out of my way ! " Hortense demanded impe 
 riously. 
 
 " Yer low white hussy ! we's got yer now ! We's 
 gwine ter knock de sass out'n you! " screamed the one in
 
 318 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 front, who seemed the leader. She was an old woman, 
 and on her wrinkled and greasy features there played 
 an expression of intense malevolence and brutish stu 
 pidity. Her dress was confined about the waist after 
 the plantation fashion, and as the hag stood with her 
 long bare arms akimbo, regarding the high-bred sensi 
 tive girl as some bloodthirsty beast might contemplate 
 its quivering victim, the horrible spectacle caused Hor- 
 tense to shudder as though she had seen an evil spirit. 
 The woman evidently perceived the expression of dis 
 gust that swept over her face, and mistook it for fear. 
 She cried out exultingly : 
 
 " Aha ! yer mens shoots our mens, eh ? It won't 
 tek us niggers long ter pull out dat yaller hair, white 
 gal, an' spile dem sto' clo'es ! " The other women 
 joined in the laugh which followed this threat, and 
 they taunted her with various epithets. Hortense hes 
 itated no longer, but drawing the pistol she cocked it 
 rapidly and fired. She took no aim of that she never 
 thought, and of course the ball flew harmlessly. To 
 her great surprise and relief, however, the cowardly set 
 took to their heels, flying in terror at the first sight of 
 the weapon, for which they evidently were unprepared. 
 When the old hag turned precipitously to fly, Hortense 
 noticed something fall from her person. Advancing 
 to the spot, she picked up the article, and then uttered 
 a little exclamation of astonishment. After regarding 
 it curiously for a few seconds, she placed it in her 
 pocket alongside the pistol, and was about to continue 
 down the road when she heard a horse coming rapidly 
 towards her. True to his promise, it was the man who 
 had given her the pistol. Waiting rather impatiently
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. .319 
 
 until he approached, she briefly explained the affair, 
 and hastily resumed her steps. 
 
 " By jolly ! but she's a plucky un ! " said the man, 
 admiringly, as he watched her tall figure go down the 
 road. 
 
 A walk of ten minutes more brought Hortense to 
 the depot, but in despair she saw that the station- 
 house was closed, and no one seemed to be about the 
 place. Wondering what to do, she was passing around 
 the building, when she heard a slight noise within. 
 Immediately going to the door, she pounded vigor 
 ously. A window was cautiously opened, and a voice 
 that she knew to be the clerk's said : " Wait a minute, 
 Miss Gildersleeve." Presently the door was opened, 
 and the man explained that a number of negroes . had 
 come down the track a while ago, and they looked so 
 threatening he had closed up. Delivering the tele 
 grams together with some currency, she directed them 
 to be sent immediately ; and it was with a compara 
 tively light heart that she began her journey back. As 
 she again passed through Nigger Town no one could 
 be seen ; but suddenly a stone whizzed past her head. 
 Taking no notice of this, she quickened her walk, and 
 soon afterwards had the satisfaction of meeting the 
 man on horseback. She at once returned the pistol. 
 
 " How is Mr. Graham ? " asked the man. 
 
 " I fear that he is desperately wounded," Hortense 
 answered. 
 
 " I heard how that happened," said he. 
 
 " Did you ? Please tell me all about it," she 
 asked. 
 
 " You see, Miss, when the niggers began to shoot, 
 every man had to look out for himself ; we had no 
 V
 
 320 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 guns, and they were pouring hot lead into us mighty 
 fast. I was off for my rifle at the very first jump ; but 
 afterwards I heard some of the boys telling as how 
 your pa had fallen on the platform, and Mr. Graham 
 ran back and picked him up just like he was a baby. 
 Then he made for a crowd of our men, but some nig 
 gers came in betwixt them, and that was the last the 
 boys saw of him. He had Mr. Gildersleeve in his 
 arms, and the boys cheered. I reckon some of those 
 niggers laid him out, 'cause, you see, he couldn't run 
 fast with that weight on him." 
 
 Hortense listened to this recital with flushed cheeks, 
 and when the man had finished her heart was beating 
 loud and the tears glistened in her eyes. " Thank you 
 for telling me," she said, in a choking voice ; and with 
 out another word she hastened on home. The man 
 looked at her curiously : " I wish I hadn't told her 
 about his going back for her pa. I guess it makes her 
 feel sort o' bad." 
 
 Hortense must have felt badly, for she cried a little 
 to herself on the way back ; but before she reached the 
 house her tears were carefully dried. She found her 
 father and Maurice precisely as she had left them. In 
 a few words she explained what she had done omit 
 ting, however, all mention of Nigger Town ; and as 
 the patrol figured rather prominently in the story, her 
 father made no complaint. 
 
 About an hour later, the local physician arrived. 
 He examined Maurice, and his face at once became 
 grave. When told that a surgeon had been summoned 
 from Carrollton, he seemed relieved, and after dress 
 ing Mr. Gildersleeve's wound, he departed, promising 
 to return later and meet the city doctors. But it
 
 AFTER THE COMBAT. 321 
 
 seemed to Hortense that these would never come, and 
 that the afternoon dragged on very slowly. Maurice 
 lay there on the bed without moving, and knowing no 
 one; and she sat out in the hallway, as the sight of 
 him so near to death was more than she could bear. 
 Her father, having taken some medicine, was now 
 sleeping quietly, and she did not feel anxious about 
 him, as the doctor said his wound was not serious. 
 
 About four o'clock, or less than three hours after 
 the telegrams had been sent, she heard the front gate 
 open, and going to the door saw that the physicians 
 were coming. Of what followed, of course she knew 
 very little. They removed her father to another room, 
 and in response to her inquiry the surgeon said that 
 Maurice had his skull fractured and that an operation 
 to take away the crushed bones must be performed 
 immediately. Whether he would live or not, they did 
 not know ; but he was young and strong, and certainly 
 he had a fair chance. Then for over an hour the doc 
 tors were alone in the room with closed doors; and had 
 it been ordained that Hortense should suffer in his stead 
 the pain of the knife, her anguish could not have been 
 much sharper. 
 
 When the doctors had finished their work, they said 
 that Maurice was lying easier, and that they hoped for 
 the best ; which gave Hortense very little relief, as she 
 knew they always hoped. There was no need of her 
 further services about the sick room that day, as later 
 in the afternoon several of Maurice's friends came to 
 stay over night, and the surgeon also declared his in 
 tention to remain until next morning. Somehow his 
 presence in the town had become known, and soon 
 after his arrival at the house his services were requested
 
 322 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 for many others of the wounded. So Hortense for the 
 evening devoted herself to her mother and the various 
 household duties, with her thoughts to occupy the spare 
 moments. When she retired at night, her rest was 
 fitful and broken by horrid dreams. Once she dreamed 
 that a crowd of screaming negroes were beating her to 
 death because she would not marry Maurice Graham ; 
 and Ernest was looking down sorrowfully upon her 
 from above.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 WHEN the conflict was over, and the dead had 
 been removed and the wounded were redeiv- 
 ing attention, the white men assembled in the town 
 square. A meeting being hastily organized, several 
 speeches were delivered ; some were violent, others 
 counseled moderation, but the burden of each was the 
 necessity for self - protection ; and after a warm but 
 short debate, a committee was appointed to confer with 
 the authorities on the subject. Either through threats 
 or persuasion, the committee induced the Mayor of the 
 town, who was a Radical, to appoint Major Mixon 
 temporary marshal, which responsibility was quickly 
 accepted by that gentleman, who had just returned 
 from the chase. 
 
 The better class of citizens were by no means in 
 favor of converting the town into a camp of volunteer 
 soldiers, as some of the more fiery spirits advocated ; 
 but there was a strong determination among them to 
 take such measures as would best assure the safety of 
 life and property. Mixon's appointment to this posi 
 tion gave the necessary show of legality to their 
 actions. The whites knew that they had snatched a 
 victory in the face of as it appeared at first desperate 
 odds ; but they scarcely appreciated at the time how 
 complete was the discomfiture of the blacks, and many 
 
 (323)
 
 324 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 of the people actually feared that the town/would be laid 
 in ashes during the night, or that some other atrocity 
 might be committed. But with Mixon in charge, they 
 felt themselves safe, and there were not a few who 
 found a kind of comfort in knowing that the very ter 
 ror which his name inspired was in itself a protec 
 tion. 
 
 The newly-made marshal, however, was- not content 
 to wait for possible contingencies. He immediately 
 proceeded to police the town ; and it must be said that 
 he made excellent use of his power. Patrols were 
 stationed, saloons closed, and the excited whites were 
 unceremoniously dispersed and ordered home. Within 
 less than an hour after assuming his duties, Mixon had 
 complete control of all the roads, and the town was as 
 quiet as on any other day. 
 
 No difficulty again occurred in Belleville between 
 the two races not even at the election. The mastery 
 of the whites was completely established henceforth in 
 that locality. The issue came, forced on by demagogues, 
 who, as usual, escaped unharmed, and it had been 
 met by those who believed their all to be at stake. 
 Could any other result have been reasonably expected ? 
 The punishment inflicted on the unfortunate negroes 
 was severe, and they remained thoroughly demoralized 
 during the rest of the campaign. Later, the appear 
 ance of the national troops did for a time tend to re 
 store their confidence ; but they soon abandoned the 
 new hope, after discovering that the sympathies of the 
 men, individually, were with the whites. The fact that 
 these soldiers were mostly Democrats a circumstance 
 which had perhaps been overlooked by the party 
 managers greatly diminished the intended effect of
 
 A SURPRISE. 325 
 
 their presence upon the politics of the South at this 
 period. 
 
 , On the day succeeding the riot, the little town of 
 Belleville was as orderly as any well-behaved communi 
 ty. Except for some funerals, and the serious faces of 
 the people, no one would have imagined from the 
 present peaceful appearance of the roads that such a 
 storm of passion and revenge had lately cut its path 
 of death through the population. Before noon the 
 guards, save a few, were dismissed ; and gradually, as 
 the sun rose higher in the heavens, the ferment of 
 excitement subsided, to leave the town in the old 
 groove from which it had been so rudely shaken. Per 
 haps nothing contributed more to restore and to 
 maintain order than the knowledge that those forty 
 odd rifles and shot-guns stood ready to repeat their 
 work whenever the occasion demanded. 
 
 Hortense Gildersleeve rose that morning with the 
 dawn. She awoke unrefreshed from her troubled 
 sleep, and for a few moments she found it hard to dis 
 tinguish between her horrible dreams and the events 
 of the past day ; they were mingled together in such 
 confusion that she shuddered involuntarily when her 
 memory limned forth their shadows like the remains of 
 a hideous nightmare. But as the recollection of her 
 wounded father and of their sick guest swept across 
 her mind like a chilling frost, she sprang from her 
 couch with a keen realization of the sorrow and anxiety 
 she would have to bear. Rapidly she made her toilet, 
 suffering at the time a feverish impatience to be down 
 stairs and learn what changes had taken place during 
 the night. It was not possible that Maurice Graham 
 had to die ! Must he give up his life when its joys
 
 326 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 and its hopes were spread out so temptingly, and before 
 his hand could gather their promised triumphs ? It 
 could not, it could not be ! " Merciful God ! have 
 pity ! " was her silent prayer ; and with the appeal came 
 hope. Perhaps he might be better ; the doctors said 
 that he had a chance. Dr. Marrows was to return to 
 the city on a train which passed the town before six 
 o'clock ; and could she not hear from the surgeon 
 himself what hopes he entertained ? Besides, she must 
 prepare some breakfast for the doctor, since, of course, 
 no dependence could be placed on the servants at this 
 time. She hastily completed her toilet, and hearing 
 some one in the hall, she went out and met Dr. Mar 
 rows, who was returning from a visit to her father. 
 
 " How are the patients ? " was the question which 
 at once leaped to her lips. 
 
 " Your father is much better. He had a good night, 
 and is now free from pain." 
 
 " But what of Mr. Graham ? " she asked, almost 
 impatiently. 
 
 " I can not speajc so encouragingly in his case." 
 
 " Is he worse ? " Hortense grasped the banister as 
 a support, and waited while the surgeon stroked his 
 chin meditatively. She summoned all her self-control, 
 and tried hard to nerve herself to meet any announce 
 ment, even the worst ; for in those few moments the 
 suspense and the awful silence of the hall weighed like 
 a millstone about her heart. 
 
 " No, I can hardly say he is worse," replied Dr. 
 Marrows, speaking very slowly and deliberately. "In 
 deed, I might say that his condition is somewhat 
 improved ; only, I don't know how long it will con 
 tinue. His consciousness returned during the night
 
 A SURPRISE. 327 
 
 a very favorable sign ; but at present he is under the 
 influence of medicine." 
 
 " You must be expecting a change for the worse," 
 ventured Hortense. 
 
 " Yes, I fear that a dangerous inflammation will set 
 in before to-morrow." 
 
 " But you will see him again to-day ?" she queried. 
 
 " Of course ; I shall return this evening. I took 
 the liberty last night to telegraph for the old family 
 servant of the Grahams, Aunt Dinah ; doubtless you 
 know her. With your own folks sick, you need some 
 one to take charge of him, and as his parents are away, 
 I know of no more competent person than this servant, 
 who is an experienced nurse. A telegram has also 
 been sent to Colonel Graham, and I suppose Maurice's 
 mother, at least, will be here in a day or two ; and until 
 then, I think it would be more judicious to decline 
 help from outside except during the night. The ser 
 vant should arrive on the morning train, and one of 
 the two gentlemen who are with him now will remain 
 until she comes." 
 
 With his last words, the surgeon turned, as though 
 he had finished speaking, and proceeded down the 
 stairs to disappear in the room where Maurice lay. 
 Hortense had not ventured to question him farther, not 
 knowing, indeed, what to ask ; but she did not fail to 
 appreciate the quiet thoughtfulness that had foreseen 
 and prepared for the present emergencies of their 
 household. She followed silently, and going out to 
 the kitchen found the cook engaged about her duties 
 as usual. 
 
 A half-hour later, she went to the door of the sick 
 room to inform Dr. Marrows that his breakfast was
 
 328 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 ready. Calling her in, he pointed out a small phial of 
 medicine, and gave her a paper on which were written 
 some instructions that he desired she should explain to 
 the nurse, and, in a general way, see that they were 
 carried out. 
 
 The morning train, by which she expected Aunt 
 Dinah, was due at nine o'clock ; and a little after that 
 time Hortense was on the front piazza, watching for the 
 woman. It gave her great relief to know that she was 
 coming, for Hortense had often met Aunt Dinah and 
 knew her to be thoroughly worthy of the great confi 
 dence and respect accorded her by the Graham fam 
 ily. Indeed, Aunt Dinah had been Mrs. Graham's 
 trusted and favorite servant ever since the latter's mar 
 riage, and long years of faithful service had given the 
 former slave a large share of the affections of the fam 
 ily. Nursing both of her mistress's children, the woman 
 loved them almost as her own ; and it was with a pride 
 as tender as a mother's that she had watched 
 them through their growing years. Devoted to the 
 whole family, fully expecting to live and die in their 
 service, Aunt Dinah could not at first understand what 
 freedom was when told that she was possessed of the 
 boon ; and when they explained its meaning, with tears 
 she beseeched her master not to turn her away from her 
 home. Perhaps, had they done so, no greater affliction 
 could have befallen the poor creature, whose only hap 
 piness lay in the well-being of the Graham family. Of 
 Maurice she was immensely proud, and her affection for 
 him amounted to worship. He was, in her eyes, a 
 man without a fault, and she fully believed that no other 
 had ever yet lived, except some whose lives are
 
 A SURPRISE. 329 
 
 recorded in the " Good Book," who surpassed her 
 " young marsa." 
 
 Hortense had not long to wait, for in a few minutes 
 she saw the old woman walking rapidly up the road. 
 She at once went down and met her at the gate. 
 
 " Oh Miss Hortense ! fur de lub o' God ! tell me, is 
 dey done gone kill my chile ? " cried the grief-stricken 
 creature, sobbing with anxiety and excitement. 
 
 " No, Aunt Dinah, he is not dead, only very badly 
 wounded." 
 
 " I nebber knowed nuffin 'till las' night dey come 
 an' tell me dat I mus' come up in de mornin'. Oh 
 Miss Hortense ! I nebber sleep after dat, tinkin' o' 
 my chile ! My young marsa, my beautiful young 
 marsa, why is dey done gone kill yer ? Oh blessed 
 Jesus ! hab mussy ! " 
 
 Aunt Dinah leaned against the fence and gave way 
 to a violent paroxysm of weeping, which Hortense was 
 powerless to soothe. She took the old woman's hand, 
 and assured her that Maurice was not only alive, but 
 that the doctors had strong hopes of his recovery. 
 Very earnestly Hortense gave her encouragement, and 
 gradually, as her grief spent its force, Aunt Dinah 
 listened to the cheering words in which the girl herself 
 did not have much faith. Then, as the servant 
 became more calm, Hortense explained to her the 
 necessity of restraining her emotion, as there was work 
 to be done, a constant unremitting watch to be kept, 
 and that perhaps on their attention depended Maurice's 
 life. This last appeal was quite successful ; Aunt 
 Dinah seemed at once to appreciate her responsibility, 
 and Hortense led the now resolute woman into the 
 house.
 
 330 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 During the morning, a number of people called to 
 inquire after Maurice and Mr. Gildersleeve. Many 
 offered their assistance ; but this Hortense gently 
 declined, according to the instructions of the surgeon. 
 Mrs. Gildersleeve's indisposition had increased after 
 she learned of the riot and its consequences, and her 
 father had been ordered to remain in bed ; so, with 
 three sick people in the house, Hortense found her 
 time fully taken up, and without Aunt Dinah's assist 
 ance she would have felt completely lost. 
 
 Almost all day Maurice lay very quiet, attended by 
 his faithful old nurse. Once or twice he opened his 
 eyes, and Aunt Dinah would fain have persuaded her 
 self that he recognized her ; but after gazing vacantly 
 for a few seconds, he would lapse again into his sleep, 
 or stupor, as it might be, and which Aunt Dinah sagely 
 pronounced as due to the medicine ; " it's keepin' 
 down de infurmation, ma'am." 
 
 Near sunset that afternoon, Hortense was sitting in 
 an easy chair beside Maurice's bed. The girl was 
 crying quietly to herself. She was alone in the room ; 
 for Aunt Dinah had been gone some minutes to the 
 kitchen on an errand. Hortense had taken from a 
 table the music book which, on the day before, she 
 had used as a writing tablet, and she again held it 
 in her lap. This time the book was open, and on the 
 outspread pages was written a waltz a simple little 
 thing, but how powerful in the memories it recalled ! 
 and what chords of emotion it stirred within her 
 bosom ! It seemed to her now almost like a dream, to 
 remember that night when she had told Maurice 
 Graham of her engagement, and this waltz was the 
 same piece which she had used as an excuse to take
 
 A SURPRISE, 331 
 
 him into the parlor. How strange it was that this man 
 should cross her path as he had done, at first uncon 
 sciously, and yet again even though each had endeav 
 ored to avoid the other ! Twice had he risked his 
 life for her or hers ; and she could have once sworn 
 that he nay, she believed that he still loved her ! 
 But why could she not forget him, or at least forget 
 that she might have possessed his love ? Had she not 
 told him that she was the affianced of a good man, 
 and that she had no love to return ? Had she not 
 bade him awaken from his dream, and had she not 
 fought her utmost to conquer the rebellious thoughts 
 that would come ? And yet, in spite of her efforts and 
 the teachings of her conscience, now that he lay there 
 wounded and near death, the loyalty she owed another 
 had fled to the winds. The music book dropped from 
 her lap ; and as the feelings that could not be crushed 
 grew stronger, the tears fell faster from her bowed 
 head. Suddenly yielding to an impulse she was power 
 less to resist, the girl leaned over and hastily pressed 
 several quick passionate kisses upon the unconscious 
 lips. How her strong affectionate nature yearned 
 towards him in his weakness ! How cheerfully, how 
 joyfully would she have shared his suffering, and have 
 found pleasure in the pain it gave because he would be 
 relieved ! Then, sitting back in the chair again, with 
 her face buried in her hands and her heart torn by its 
 storm of passion and regret and despair, she confessed 
 to herself, for the first time, that she loved this man, 
 and him only. 
 
 As she wept bitterly, a voice how strangely familiar 
 it was ! broke upon the silence of the room, which 
 had been disturbed for some seconds only by the half-
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 stifled sobs of the girl. " Hortense ! Hortense ! " it 
 said. 
 
 She looked up quickly, like a startled doe, at the 
 sound. 
 
 "Hortense, don't you know me?" again came 
 from the figure standing in the doorway. 
 
 She arose slowly, and carrying one hand to her 
 forehead, as though to arouse herself from a slumber, 
 she steadied her trembling frame by clutching the 
 chair with the other hand. Everything seemed whirl 
 ing round ; her head swam, her ears rang with a 
 thousand noises, her limbs began to give way, and 
 when the figure advanced with outstretched hands, she 
 shrieked, " Oh Ernest ! " Then she tottered, and fell 
 senseless to the floor. The overwrought faculties had 
 yielded under the sudden and heavy strain.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 IN the early twilight of that afternoon, the south 
 ward-bound train had stopped at the Belleville 
 station. Among the few passengers who alighted on 
 the platform was a tall man of about thirty years, en 
 veloped in a gray linen duster. His figure was large, 
 full even to stoutness, but not corpulent ; his shoulders, 
 broad and square, suggested a powerful frame ; and his 
 movements were of that quick and elastic character 
 generally characteristic of the Northerner. In type he 
 was a perfect blonde, and his clear and beautiful com 
 plexion would alone have entitled its owner to be con 
 sidered good looking. But there was an expression of 
 jovial honesty about the full and regular features, and 
 a laughing mischievous light in the blue eyes, that told 
 of perfect health and peace with all the world. This 
 man was Ernest Trundon ; and he had come a long 
 distance, from Boston, to see his betrothed, Hortense 
 Gildersleeve. He bore a valise in one hand, and after 
 leaving the car he looked around sharply to take in his 
 new bearings ; then he walked briskly towards a negro 
 who was seated on a barrel. 
 
 " My man," said he, " do you know where Mr. Gil 
 dersleeve lives ? " 
 
 " Fur sartin I does, boss. Wants yer balise toted ? 
 I'se de bery pusson you'se lookin* fur, sah." 
 
 (333)
 
 334 THE SHADOW OF THK WAR. 
 
 The traveler handed over his baggage along with a 
 silver coin, and bade the man lead the way. As the 
 two went up the sandy road, Trundon proceeded to 
 interrogate his guide. 
 
 " Were you in that riot yesterday ? " he asked. 
 
 " 'Fore de Lord, boss, I dunno nuffin, nuffin at all 
 'bout de fightin' ! Bress yer soul, sah, dis yar nigger 
 hab too much respec' fur his skin ! When I heerd de 
 shootin' I run an' gone hide. I 'spec 'twas some ob 
 dem fool niggers from de plantations wot raise de 
 debbil." 
 
 " I saw by to-day's paper that Mr. Gildersleeve had 
 been rescued by a young man, and that the latter was 
 wounded ; do you know if either was badly injured ? " 
 
 " I dunno, boss, but I heerd dat dey had de Car'll- 
 ton doctors at de house las' night." 
 
 When John Gildersleeve was quite a young man, he 
 had an intimate friend, perhaps the only one of his 
 life. This friend's name was Trundon, and the two 
 were partners in a prosperous business. Gildersleeve 
 was then a bachelor ; and Trundon, after a short 
 wedded life, became a widower with one little boy 
 Ernest. When the latter was five years old, his father 
 also died, leaving the child under the guardianship of 
 his friend. Three years later, John Gildersleeve mar 
 ried ; and ever since assuming charge of the boy, 
 Ernest had been cared for as his son. Hortense was 
 born when he was ten years old, and for years the two 
 had lived together in the same household as children 
 of the same parents. It was not until long after Ernest 
 had arrived at manhood, that sentiment had really en 
 tered as a factor into their relations, and for a short 
 time Hortense may perhaps have fancied that she
 
 EXPLANA TIONS. 335 
 
 loved. Ernest Trundon had always appeared to her 
 as representing the highest standard of manly excel 
 lence, and his enthusiastic and untiring devotion to her 
 from early infancy had not failed to win a large share 
 of her affection. She knew that her parents were anx 
 ious for the match ; and in time their quiet, scarcely 
 expressed desires, together with his unassuming but 
 persistent wooing, had resulted in a secret engagement. 
 Of course, she loved him with as tender a regard as 
 any sister could bestow ; but whether he had ever held 
 such a place in her heart as only a lover could fill, was 
 another question. He certainly did not at the present 
 time ; nor, in spite of, perhaps because of, his repeated 
 entreaties, had she ever confessed herself to be in love. 
 When Hortense allowed herself to be persuaded into a 
 promise of marriage, it was her inexperience, together 
 with her affection and high respect for the man, her 
 great deference for the wishes of her parents, and a 
 kind of negative amiability, permitting her to be easily 
 influenced where she saw no reason for refusal, which 
 had caused her to commit such an error one that she 
 could scarcely appreciate at the time, because marriage 
 was so indefinite a thing. 
 
 Trundon and his guide walked very fast, and they 
 soon drew near the residence of the Gildersleeves. 
 When the negro had pointed out the house to the 
 stranger, the latter relieved him of the valise, and dis 
 missing the darkey, continued on his way alone. 
 Passing rapidly up the gravelly path which led through 
 the garden, Trundon mounted the steps and knocked 
 on the door. As no response came, the rapping was 
 repeated several times ; and at last, impatient at the 
 delay, he retraced his steps to the garden and looked 
 W
 
 336 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 about him to discover if any person was within call. 
 Seeing no one, he proceeded around the house to the 
 rear, and at the back stairway he met Aunt Dinah, who 
 was just returning to her charge. Expressing his 
 desire to be announced to the family, he obeyed her 
 request to follow, and when the two entered the hall she 
 pointed to the parlor and asked him to enter. Mis 
 taking the opposite room for the one mentioned, he 
 stopped short at the threshold on perceiving in the dim 
 light a woman rise and kiss some one who lay in the 
 bed. Then he was struck dumb with amazement when 
 he recognized Hortense Gildersleeve, and involuntarily 
 her name escaped his lips. When she fell, he sprang 
 to her assistance, and raising her from the floor he 
 bore her to a lounge. Without knowing how it hap 
 pened, he found the bewildered servant beside him 
 with a bowl of crushed ice, and by its use Hortense 
 soon recovered consciousness. 
 
 " It is I, Hortense," whispered Ernest. " I have 
 just arrived, and thought to take you by surprise. I 
 had not seen you for so long. But not a word now," 
 perceiving that she wanted to speak. " Wait until you 
 feel stronger ; after awhile, when you have rested, we 
 can talk, and in the meantime I will see Uncle John." 
 
 Leaving her in charge of the servant, Trundon 
 withdrew from the room, and having been instructed 
 by Aunt Dinah, he sought the kitchen to find another 
 servant by whom his arrival might be announced to the 
 Gildersleeves. Shortly after, he was seated in their 
 room, to the great astonishment and delight of the in 
 valids. 
 
 About nine o'clock that evening, Ernest Trundon 
 was pacing the sitting-room, where he expected every
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 337 
 
 moment the coming of Miss Gildersleeve. They had 
 met again at the supper-table, but as Dr. Marrows was 
 present, their talk was confined to a discussion of the 
 late riot and the condition of the two patients. The 
 surgeon pronounced Maurice no worse, and Mr. Gil 
 dersleeve was doing very nicely. Before leaving the 
 room after the meal, Hortense had intimated to Trun- 
 don that she would meet him later in the evening ; and 
 he was now awaiting her pleasure. But he had not 
 long to remain in suspense ; presently the door opened 
 and she entered. 
 
 "Oh, Ernest," said Hortense, drawing her chair 
 close to the one he had taken, " I wanted to speak to 
 you so much ; but now I don't know how." 
 
 " But why trouble yourself to-night ? Why not 
 wait until you are stronger say to-morrow and this 
 evening we can talk about something else." 
 
 " No, the matter is on my mind, and the sooner it is 
 over the better," she answered wearily. 
 
 A long pause ensued, as though each hesitated to 
 begin ; but at last Ernest broke the silence that was 
 painful to both. 
 
 " I know what you would tell me," he cried bitterly, 
 " and I was a fool oh, what a fool ! to hope that 
 such a thing could never happen ! You are in love 
 with this man Graham, whom you kissed ! It is easy 
 to see how it has come about ; he rescued you from a 
 wreck, you have been thrown together, and yesterday 
 he risked his life to save your father. How easy to 
 imagine the result ! " 
 
 " Ernest, I pledge you my honor that no word of 
 love has ever passed between us, and he, he alone, 
 knows that I am engaged."
 
 338 THE SHADOW OF THE IV A R. 
 
 " Indeed ! And how came you to tell him ? " 
 
 Hortense hesitated ; the color mounted her cheek, 
 and she seemed to struggle for the words before they 
 would come. 
 
 " I I feared that is that Mr. Graham might 
 might like me, and I wished him to know that his that 
 it would be useless. Ever since I told him about it in 
 strict confidence, we have avoided each other." 
 
 " But you love him all the same. Answer me truly, 
 Hortense ; you owe it to me. Do you love Graham ? " 
 
 A long pause, and then the answer, "Yes," came 
 firmly. 
 
 " And how is it that you have never told me this 
 before ? " 
 
 " I never told myself until this afternoon." 
 
 Without a word he drew from his finger a plain gold 
 ring, and threw it contemptuously into her lap. 
 
 "Oh, Ernest," cried she, "how unjust, how cruel 
 you are ! When you besought me time and again for 
 an engagement, did I not tell you always that I had no 
 love to give ? And when at last I yielded to your en 
 treaties, didn't I make you understand that I complied 
 because I knew you so well, and liked you better than 
 any other man I had ever known, and because my par 
 ents wished so much that we should marry? Could I 
 foresee then that some day my heart would go to an 
 other ? I have never deceived you in any way ; and 
 God knows," bursting into tears, " that I am as willing 
 as ever to abide by my promise of marriage." 
 
 Scarcely were her words finished before the better 
 nature of the man triumphed over the terrible disap 
 pointment he was suffering. In his heart he could not
 
 EXPLANA TIONS. 339 
 
 but acknowledge the truth of what she said ; and 
 though the revelation was bitter, his manhood and the 
 love he bore her came to the rescue and made him just, 
 made him even tender. 
 
 " Darling," he answered, " I know I was wrong. I 
 have no blame. I love you the same as of old, as I 
 will always love you ; but how could we marry with 
 your heart gone to another ? " 
 
 '' You wish, then, to break the engagement ? " 
 
 " Yes ; after what I saw and what you have con 
 fessed, it could bind us no longer." 
 
 In her turn she drew off a ring and handed it to 
 him. 
 
 " Of course," he continued, with a slight return of 
 his former bitterness of tone, " if Mr. Graham recov 
 ers that is, when he recovers," noticing her to wince 
 at the word if " you will inform him that you are re 
 leased." 
 
 " Never ! " came the reply instantly, almost with 
 fierceness. She drew herself up haughtily, and con 
 tinued : " Ernest Trundon, I have admitted to you 
 more than I would tell another living being, because it 
 was a duty I owed. Can you think I expose my heart 
 for the pleasure it gives ? I know that I am weak ; 
 pitifully weak ; but at least it shall never be said that 
 I sought any man, no matter how I might love him ! " 
 
 " You are free to do as you choose, I suppose," he 
 answered quietly, and somewhat abashed by the force 
 with which her words were uttered. " But there is one 
 mistake on your part that I would like to correct 
 now, Hortense, as I will not be long in this town, and 
 it may be some time before we meet again. You re-
 
 340 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 member my promise when we last parted that I would 
 never speculate ? Because I once foolishly lost some 
 money in that way, you concluded that speculation was 
 my weakness, and you have actually fancied, you silly 
 girl, that the engagement might end through the break 
 ing of my promise. You need not deny it, your let 
 ters show that you did, and your earnestness in that 
 matter would alone acquit you of wrong now. Last 
 winter when I needed some money which I prefer to 
 borrow of Uncle John instead of the banks because 
 he lends to me on easy terms you thought at once that 
 I was at the old trick, simply because the sum was 
 large. I am doing an excellent business, as your 
 father knows ; and 1 hope your mind is now free of 
 the suspicion that I am a speculator." 
 
 " I am glad to know that I was wrong." Then 
 as he rose from his chair, she came up and took his 
 hand. "And you are sure, Ernest," she asked, plead 
 ingly, "that you bear me no ill will ? " 
 
 " Why should I, Hortense ? You can't hide your 
 impulsive nature from me under that habitual reserve ; 
 I know you too well to ever think you guilty of decep 
 tion. I wanted to marry you, I was anxious for it, 
 even though I knew you did not love me ; but now 
 that the other man has appeared, should I ? I was 
 foolish to dream that your large heart could escape 
 being touched. I know that you are honest in your 
 willingness to abide by the engagement ; but I will not 
 let you sacrifice yourself, even if it is for me. I love 
 you too much for that. If you love another, marriage 
 between us would be unjust to both ; and your parents 
 would never consent. Henceforth, we will be, as we
 
 EXPLANA TIONS. 341 
 
 should have been always, only a brother and sister 
 who are very, very dear to each other. Good-night." 
 He drew her close to his side for a moment, and kissed 
 her twice ; then, taking a lamp from the table, he went 
 to his room.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 AFTER a desperate illness, Maurice Graham re 
 covered completely. For days the surgeon had 
 been unable to give a definite opinion, and during that 
 terrible period it seemed to th,e watchers that his 
 strength must yield under the strain. Has not almost 
 everyone witnessed this oft-repeated struggle between 
 life and death, where the sympathizing physician 
 gently hints that the family should prepare for the 
 worst, where the friends and relatives haunt by day and 
 night the scene of conflict with disease, while on their 
 weary and anxious faces is depicted the dread that lies 
 in the heart ? The cautious tip-toed walk, the low 
 whispered conversation, the quiet endless watching, 
 the frequent visits of the physician, whose utterances 
 fall as from an oracle, whose slightest expression of 
 countenance is noted for weal or woe, are not all 
 these things sadly familiar ? The Graham and Gilder- 
 sleeve families experienced them during this time, if 
 never before, in their full and exhausting reality, 
 while he whom they all loved fought the fight for 
 mortal life. 
 
 When ten days had gone by, the surgeon announced 
 that the worst was over, and the tedious convalescence 
 began. But what a change the patient had under 
 gone ! It was difficult to believe that this wreck, so 
 
 (342)
 
 THE TRIAL. 343 
 
 haggard, wan, and bloodless, was the strong, robust 
 fellow of a few weeks before. A long time must pass, 
 said the physicians, before his strength would be fully 
 restored ; and they advised that the next few months 
 be spent in travel. Already had Maurice been con 
 sulting with his father about the trip ; and having 
 decided on a tour through Texas and the Southwest, 
 he now looked forward longingly to the time when he 
 could go. 
 
 It was nearly a month after the riot, or early in 
 October, when Maurice Graham was removed to his 
 home in Carrollton ; and now, two weeks later, the 
 day had come when he and Major Mixon were to be 
 tried for the murder of the negro 'Nezzar. Mr. Gravoir, 
 long since recovered from his slight wound of the 
 shoulder, had endeavored to persuade both the accused 
 to ask for a continuance of the case until the following 
 spring, not only on account of Maurice's weakness, 
 but also because of the excited condition of politics. 
 But to this, neither would agree. Maurice was anxious 
 to have the matter over, and be off on his trip ; while 
 Mixon would scarcely listen to the proposal of post 
 ponement. Though they both affected to regard the 
 coming trial as a farce, gotten up to impress the 
 negroes, there were others, Mr. Gravoir included, who 
 were not without anxiety as to the result. These were 
 times of unusual excitement, and the machinery of 
 justice was operated by the opposing party, whose 
 members, driven almost mad by the prospect of Demo 
 cratic success, might be expected to vindictively use 
 all their powers to secure a conviction. Mr. Gravoir 
 had not the least doubt of Maurice's acquittal ; 
 indeed, if necessary, that could be effected through
 
 344 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Miss Gildersleeve's testimony ; but he was by no 
 means sure that Mixon would escape. Thoroughly 
 understanding the man's character, he believed him to 
 have been connected with the lynching ; and what 
 more probable, Gravoir argued to himself, than that 
 these Radicals were possessed of some evidence 
 against him which they were purposely keeping back 
 until the last moment ? And when, a day or two 
 before the trial, it was openly reported upon the streets 
 that the attorney-general of the State would conduct 
 the prosecution, Gravoir felt sure that his suspicion 
 was verified, and that every effort would be made to 
 convict a man prominent among the Democrats. 
 
 The judge on the bench was an honest man, one 
 who would permit no unfairness in matters of life and 
 death ; and it was because of this inconvenient integ 
 rity that his party had endeavored to remove him and 
 elevate Phelps to the office. But fortunately the 
 Supreme Court of the State was under the control of 
 Northborn, who desired at that time to conciliate the 
 better classes ; and accordingly the present judge's 
 tenure of office had been sustained by that court, while 
 Phelps was now industriously canvassing his county as 
 a candidate for reelection to the legislature. Although 
 the judge was reliable, Gravior knew how difficult it 
 was to procure an intelligent and unprejudiced jury 
 when the prosecution willed otherwise, and how, in 
 criminal cases, the least testimony, whether for or 
 against the prisoner, swelled into huge proportions or 
 diminished into nothingness, according to the political 
 bearing of the case. It was impossible to know what 
 trap these Radicals would suddenly spring ; the fact 
 that the attorney-general intended to take a hand was
 
 THE TRIAL. 345 
 
 a sufficient warning that there was more to come than 
 the surface indicated ; and realizing fully the influ 
 ences that would act upon the partisan jury before 
 whom two Democratic candidates were tried, the 
 shrewd lawyer experienced considerable anxiety about 
 the result. It was mainly through these fears, and 
 because of the more intense political bitterness which 
 was developing every day, that Gravoir had advised 
 a postponement of the case. But in vain were his 
 counsels ; Mixon scoffed at the idea of danger, which 
 he was pleased to term an excess of prudence. So on 
 this Monday morning the case was to be tried in the 
 circuit court. 
 
 Long before the trial began, the court-room was 
 crowded with a mass of whites and blacks, eager 
 to hear the testimony. The social and political posi 
 tion of the accused, together with the mystery en 
 veloping the lynching, and the impression, growing 
 hourly, that startling developments might be expected, 
 combined to create a wide-spread interest in the case. 
 Conversing with men of either color, it was easy to 
 perceive the strong partisan feeling that prevailed on 
 the one side, to avenge an injury to one of their race ; 
 on the other, to protect those whose interests were their 
 own. Perhaps very few of the whites believed Mixon 
 innocent of the lynching ; but it was also their universal 
 opinion that 'Nezzar had only gotten what he richly 
 deserved. 
 
 At ten o'clock the court was convened, both the 
 prisoners in the dock, and the judge arrayed in his 
 flowing black silk robes a custom inherited from the 
 English, and now observed in very few of the States. 
 Mixon's red and sunburnt face was as impassive as
 
 346 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 ever, save for the half-defiant sneer that would occa 
 sionally play across his features as he watched the 
 crowd of expectant negroes. Maurice Graham was 
 pale and thin ; his eyes seemed larger than ever, and 
 to-day they appeared black. But his countenance was 
 cheerful, and ever and anon he would glance smilingly 
 at his mother, who sat only a few feet away. 
 
 After the tipstaffs had exhausted themselves in 
 crying out, " Silence een court ! " the clerk read the 
 indictment in the usual monotonous tone ; then, at its 
 close, amid an awful silence, he proceeded to interro 
 gate the prisoners, who were instructed in their replies 
 by counsel. 
 
 Clerk : " Louis Mixon, you stand here a prisoner at 
 the bar of justice, charged with the murder of one 
 Nebuchadnezzar on the th of May, 187 . What 
 say you : are you guilty or not guilty ? " 
 
 Mixon (very emphatically, and in a voice that rang 
 through the room): " Not guilty ! " 
 Clerk : " How shall you be tried ? " 
 Mixon : " By my God and my country." 
 Clerk : " May God bring you a safe deliverance." 
 The same questions were asked Maurice Graham, 
 who returned the same answers ; and then Francis Gra- 
 voir, the attorney for the defence, announced that he 
 was ready for trial. 
 
 The two hours succeeding were occupied by a 
 seemingly interminable wrangle between the opposing 
 lawyers over the choice of a jury. During this period 
 of misrule, the color line was most distinctly drawn in 
 all trials of a political nature ; and, true to their usual 
 course, the prosecution were directing their efforts to 
 wards obtaining a black jury. In this, owing to the
 
 THE TRIAL. 347 
 
 character of the panel, they were finally successful, 
 except for two white men ; but the defence could place 
 no reliance on these, as they were openly recognized 
 adherents of Sharpe " court-house bummers," as they 
 were termed. In vain did the defence place the jurors 
 on their roir dire, and ask if they could swear that 
 they had no relationship with the prisoners, no know 
 ledge of the case, no opinion about its merits, and if 
 they knew no reason why they could not render a just 
 verdict between the State and the prisoners at the bar. 
 Perhaps the utter mockery of such an oath one of the 
 means by which Civilization endeavors to regulate its 
 ministrations of justice was never more forcibly ap 
 parent. In cases of great public notoriety, a man who 
 can now-a-days take such an oath generally pronounces 
 himself a knave or a fool, incompetent to decide upon 
 grave questions of guilt or innocence. Some few res 
 pectable men on the panel were, of course, unable to 
 swear that they had formed no opinion ; several others, 
 not wholly objectionable, were chosen by the defence, 
 only to be peremptorily ordered aside by the prosecu 
 tion. The defence had exhausted their challenges and 
 the panel before the jury was formed ; and, according 
 to the iniquitous rule then in force, the sheriff was in 
 structed to summon other jurors from the bystanders. 
 Of course, only his henchmen were called the profes 
 sional jurymen who stand awaiting just such chances. 
 When, finally, the jury was sworn, and Gravoir had 
 closely scrutinized them, he turned and remarked to 
 his associate counsel : 
 
 " I'm afraid our only hope lies in the judge, and in 
 their inability to make a clear case." 
 
 The attorney-general addressed the jury, setting
 
 348 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 forth what he expected to prove. He claimed that a 
 conspiracy had existed between a number of men, of 
 whom Mixon and Graham were the only ones known, 
 to procure the death of 'Nezzar ; and that through the 
 treachery of Graham their purpose had been accom 
 plished. The attorney-general was a Northern man 
 a lawyer of consummate ability, and of marked orator 
 ical powers. Vividly he drew a picture of the crime, 
 of the insecurity of the freedman's rights, and in pas 
 sionate terms he demanded that the laws be enforced 
 for the protection of life. 
 
 Immediately after this speech, the prosecution called 
 several witnesses whose testimony proved the facts of 
 the lynching as they had been developed at the coro 
 ner's inquest. The deputy sheriff, and others of the 
 posse, testified that Maurice Graham had outstripped 
 them all in pursuit of an individual who disappeared 
 in the neighborhood of Mixon's residence ; and, finally, 
 it was proven that Mixon had cherished malice against 
 the negro, had openly uttered threats of violence, and 
 had even undertaken to effect his capture without au 
 thority. An endeavor was also made to show that 
 Graham and Mixon were fast friends, and were 
 united by common motives ; but in this the testimony 
 was weak, and gave way under cross-examination. 
 At this point, a recess was taken for dinner. 
 
 When the court again assembled, the sheriff was 
 called to the stand ; and he had scarcely begun to tell 
 of the arrangement he had made with Maurice Graham, 
 when the quiet of the room was disturbed by a bustle 
 at one of the private doors, around which were gath 
 ered a number of lawyers. Gravoir, looking up from 
 his desk, perceived Hortense Gildersleeve pass through
 
 THE TRIAL. 349 
 
 the crowd as a deputy sheriff opened a passage. Her 
 father, who was seated near Gravoir, also saw her enter, 
 to his great surprise. 
 
 " What brings you here, Hortense ? " he asked, as 
 soon as she had been provided with a chair by his side. 
 Gravoir had hastened to meet her, and now stood anx 
 iously awaiting an answer to the question. Perhaps 
 every eye in the room was bent upon her for the mo 
 ment ; even the sheriff stopped in his testimony. The 
 crowd gazed curiously upon the embarrassed girl, who 
 had never looked more beautiful than at this time, 
 flushed with the excitement and novelty of her position. 
 Some close observers claimed afterwards that when 
 Mixon first saw her, he was perceptibly startled, and 
 that he became more nervous than he had been in the 
 morning. Maurice evidently did not understand the 
 situation ; his face only expressed a passing astonish 
 ment, to be succeeded by its former calm repose as he 
 turned again to listen to the evidence. 
 
 " How came you here, Hortense ? " repeated her 
 father. 
 
 ' I don't understand it myself," she answered, 
 speaking a little excitedly. " Listen, Mr. Gravoir ; I 
 wish you to know." That gentlemen bent low to 
 catch her whispered tones. " This morning a man we 
 supposed to be a constable, or something of the kind, 
 came to the house and said that I must prepare to go 
 to the city at once as a witness in this trial. He pro 
 duced a paper which mother thought legal, and she 
 said I would have to come. The man wanted me to 
 ride with him in a buggy, as there was no train until 
 afternoon ; but I ordered out the carriage and drove 
 down. The man was very careful, though, to keep
 
 350 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 near me all the time. That is all I know about the 
 matter." 
 
 Gravoir listened quietly, his face as immobile as 
 ever. He had feared some unforseen denouement, and 
 here was an emergency as threatening to Mixon as it 
 was inexplicable. How could those fellows have gained 
 their information, and how should he meet the point ? 
 Perhaps there was more to come, entangling at least 
 one of his clients so deeply in the trap, that, apart from 
 the prejudices of the jury, no legal skill could extricate 
 him out of its meshes. Without betraying in the least 
 his chagrin and fears, Gravoir resumed his chair beside 
 his associate in time to hear the attorney-general ask : 
 
 " Mr. Sheriff, did Mr. Graham know before your 
 visit the purpose for which you intended to call ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I made the appointment with him in the 
 morning, and gave my reasons for choosing the even 
 ing, but not the details of the plan." 
 
 And then Gravoir could understand how, by means 
 of Hortense's testimony, the prosecution would en 
 deavor to show collusion between the two prisoners. 
 
 When the cross-examination of the sheriff was con 
 cluded, Miss Gildersleeve was called. Three times her 
 name was rung out by the crier, and with a scarcely 
 perceptible trepidation she took her seat in the wit 
 ness chair. 
 
 Attorney-General (with great deference of manner 
 and evidently desirous of conciliating the witness) : 
 " Miss Gildersleeve, can you give me any account of 
 Major Mixon's whereabouts on the evening of the re 
 ception held at Colonel Graham's house last May ? " 
 
 Hortense : " He was present at the reception, and 
 in my company for a portion of the time."
 
 THE TRIAL. 351 
 
 Attorney-General : " Tell me now of what took place 
 during that time, please, and particularly where you 
 left him." 
 
 Hortense : " We chatted together as people usually 
 do when they meet in society." 
 
 The attorney - general smiled, and wondered 
 whether this young person was innocent enough to 
 think she could escape so easily. If Hortense had had 
 any such idea, she must have soon dismissed it, for in 
 the course of a quarter of an hour the lawyer had 
 forced her to lay before the jury all the events of the 
 evening in question, beginning at the point where 
 she was engaged in conversation with Mrs. Mixon. 
 He actually made her tell why she had proposed a 
 promenade to Major Mixon. While her testimony, 
 especially on cross-examination, developed with great 
 clearness the purely accidental cause of Mixon's pres 
 ence in the court-yard, yet it disclosed immediately to 
 the amazed throng of listeners, at least to their own 
 satisfaction, the whole mystery of the lynching. Gra- 
 voir, turning to his associate, remarked : 
 
 " That's a heavy blow against Mixon, with such a 
 jury ; but unless they have more, it is only circumstan 
 tial, and proves eavesdropping, not lynching." 
 
 When Miss Gildersleeve descended from her posi 
 tion, a buzz of excited talk passed around the court 
 room, quickly suppressed, however, as the crier shouted 
 " Mrs. Louis Mixon ! " The crowd was greedy for 
 further developments. 
 
 Attorney-General (as soon as the witness was ready 
 to respond) : " Madam, did you ever see this before ? " 
 handing her a sleeve-button. 
 X
 
 352 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 The poor little lady gazed blankly at the piece of 
 jewelry, and with surprise stamped on every feature 
 of her face, mechanically answered " Yes." Then she 
 looked over to where Hortense sat, and a quick flash 
 of intelligence passed between the two. 
 
 Attorney-General : " To whom does it belong ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " To my husband, sir." 
 
 Attorney-General: " One other question : was your 
 husband with you on the night of the lynching ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " No, sir." 
 
 Attorney-General : " That will do, madam." 
 
 This partial development was a complete enigma to 
 Gravoir, who again was mystified. When the witness 
 was delivered to him for cross-examination, he declined 
 the opportunity, concluding to defer his questioning 
 until the point had been made clearer, and knowing 
 that he could recall Mrs. Mixon when the defence 
 introduced their evidence. 
 
 The next witness summoned by the prosecution 
 was the Rev. Mr. Tomkins. 
 
 Attorney-General (after that individual had taken 
 the usual oath about speaking the truth) : " Can you 
 tell me any thing about this button, Mr. Tomkins ? " 
 
 " Yes, sah," was the glib answer. " I was walkin' 
 right close by Luber's Lake on de mornin' when 
 'Nezzar was hangded, an' I seen sumfin shinin' bright 
 like the stars in de inferment. So I bended down an' 
 pick it up. It was dat same sleebe-button, wid fresh 
 blood on it." 
 
 " D n that fool ! " muttered Sharpe, who had been 
 closely watching the trial, and who was acute enough 
 to perceive the one flaw in Tomkins' testimony. " Why
 
 THE TRIAL. 353 
 
 should he want to be sensational, with his fresh 
 blood?" 
 
 Attorney-General (to witness) : " What did you do 
 with it ? " 
 
 Tomkins : " I hide it a long time, 'cause I thought 
 it 'longed ter Major Mixon an' I was feared ter tell. 
 Den I carried it ter Mr. Sharpe, an' he says I mus' gib 
 it ter de sheriff." 
 
 Gravoir (cross-examining) : " You are sure it was 
 really fresh blood on the button ? " 
 
 Tomkins : " Freshest kind o' blood, sah ! " 
 
 Gravoir : " Covered all over with blood ? " 
 
 Tomkins: "Yer couldn't see nuffin fur de blood, 
 sah." 
 
 Gravoir : " Was it dry looked as if it had been on 
 the button for some time ? " 
 
 Tomkins (confusedly) : " I 'spec' so, sah." 
 
 Gravoir : " How did you know it was fresh unless 
 you noticed that it was still wet ? " 
 
 Attorney-General : " I object, your Honor, to these 
 questions. What can it matter whether the blood was 
 moist or dry ? The button was found near the Lake, 
 and that is the only important point." 
 
 fudge : " The questions are quite relevant ; the 
 witness must answer." 
 
 Tomkins (the question having been repeated) : "De 
 blood was wet, sah." 
 
 Gravoir : " Did you see or hear of anybody bleed 
 ing about the place ? " 
 
 Tomkins : " No, sah." 
 
 Gravoir : " Did you see any cuts or blood on 'Nez- 
 zar's body ? "
 
 354 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 Tomkins (in a bewildered way) : " No, sah." 
 
 Gravoir : " How is it, if the button was covered 
 with blood, that you could see it shining like a star in 
 the firmament ? " 
 
 Tomkins (for a moment at a loss how to answer, but 
 quickly recovering) : "Oh ! I 'spec' dat was de blue 
 stone I seen shinin'." 
 
 Gravoir "You may step down." 
 
 At this juncture, Hortense Gildersleeve and Mrs. 
 Mixon approached Mr. Gravoir, and for several min 
 utes the three held a hurried conversation in subdued 
 tones, the court and spectators looking on curiously. 
 Finally, when the judge's patience was almost exhausted 
 they seemed to reach some decision, and the ladies 
 went back to their chairs, looking decidedly more cheer 
 ful. 
 
 " May it please your Honor," said Gravoir, address 
 ing the Court, "this trial has brought about some unex 
 pected developments, for which we were unable to pre 
 pare when summoning our witnesses. In justice to 
 our clients, we ask to continue the case until to-morrow 
 morning, in order that additional witnesses may be 
 obtained. The evidence that they can furnish will 
 completely change the aspect of the case." 
 
 As a matter of course, the prosecution objected to 
 the delay, and a short controversy ensued out of 
 which the defence emerged victorious. Before the 
 court adjourned that afternoon, Mr. Gravoir had 
 obtained a warrant for the apprehension of a woman 
 named " Mirandy," and, armed- with the paper, a con 
 stable went to Belleville on the evening train to effect 
 her arrest.
 
 THE TRIAL. 355 
 
 Mr. Gildersleeve returned to the town on the same 
 train, but his daughter remained in the city with the 
 Grahams. After supper Mr. Gravoir called and held 
 a long consultation in the drawing-room with Mrs. 
 Mixon and Hortense. Maurice and Mixon enjoyed 
 the hospitality of the sheriff for the night.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 THE court was convened next morning at the 
 usual hour ten o'clock. The defence opened 
 the proceedings by placing the deputy sheriff and sev 
 eral of the posse on the witness stand. Their evidence, 
 as elicited by the defence, showed that Mixon was at 
 home when the posse rode up to his house ; that the 
 rapping on his door was repeated several times before 
 he answered ; and that finally he appeared at a window 
 in his night clothes. This was the evidence on which 
 Mr. Gravoir hoped to establish an alibi. 
 
 "Madam," asked Mr. Gravoir of Mrs. Mixon, when 
 that lady had again taken the stand ; " Madam, what 
 jewelry did your husband wear to that reception at 
 Colonel Graham's house, the night before the lynch 
 ing?" 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " Two sleeve-buttons, a seal ring, and 
 a set of plain gold studs." 
 
 Gravoir : " Is the sleeve-button which you identi 
 fied yesterday as his property, one of the pair he wore 
 on that occasion ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon: "Yes, sir." 
 
 Gravoir : " Does he usually wear these ornaments ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon ; " No, except the seal ring ; he wears 
 the others only when in full dress." 
 
 (356)
 
 THE VERDICT. 357 
 
 Gravoir : " He accompanied you home that even 
 ing ; when did he next leave you ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " Early next morning ; he said that 
 business called him to Belleville." 
 
 Gravoir : " Did he then take away on his person 
 any of the jewelry he wore on thjs preceding even 
 ing?" 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " Only the seal ring." 
 
 Gravoir : " How do you know that he did not wear 
 a sleeve-button ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " Because I found them both after he 
 had gone. I have two jewel cases, one of which is 
 small and of morocco leather. I keep in it a pair of 
 ear-rings, two brooches, also my husband's studs and 
 sleeve-buttons. Whenever he has used these, they 
 always remain where he has thrown them until I put 
 them away. I don't mean to say that he's careless, but 
 you see, he hasn't time to bother with trifles. After 
 he had gone that morning, I replaced the studs and 
 sleeve-buttons in the case as usual." 
 
 Gravoir : " These buttons, then, were in your pos 
 session from the time your husband left you until after 
 you had heard of the lynching ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : "Yes, and for some time longer." 
 
 Gravoir : " When and how did that sleeve-button 
 go out of your possession ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " I cannot answer that. I only know 
 that a week or two after my husband was arrested, I 
 discovered that the morocco case was missing. I in 
 formed my husband, and we both suspected the ser 
 vants ; but he thought it best to keep quiet in the mat 
 ter until his trial was over, and on account of the polit 
 ical excitement. In fact, we never expected to recover
 
 358 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR, 
 
 the jewelry ; but thinking that possibly they might be 
 offered for sale, we privately informed the jewelers of 
 this city about the loss." 
 
 Gravoir : " Is the case with the jewelry in your pos 
 session now ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mixon : " Yes, sir, except one sleeve-button. 
 Two or three weeks ago, Miss Gildersleeve brought 
 them to me and said she had found them." 
 
 This concluded the direct examination of the lady, 
 who was delivered over to the cross-questioning of the 
 prosecution. But under the severest tests to which the 
 attorney-general could subject her, Mrs. Mixon never 
 wavered in the slightest ; and perceiving that she only 
 strengthened her previous testimony, he was soon glad 
 to dismiss her. As she resumed her chair, Gravior 
 whispered something in her ear ; the wife looked 
 towards her husband, and there was a glad smile on her 
 care-worn face. 
 
 Hortense Gildersleeve was again called. She tes 
 tified that on the day of the riot in Belleville, she had 
 gone to take some telegrams to the depot, and had been 
 assaulted by some negro women as she passed through 
 " Nigger Town "; that they fled when she fired a pistol, 
 and one had dropped a leather case on which was 
 stamped the name " Carrie L. Mixon." On returning 
 home, she put the case in a safe place ; and as her 
 time had been fully occupied by reason of sickness in 
 the house, she did not deliver it to Mrs. Mixon for sev 
 eral weeks. (In truth, her thoughts had been so en 
 grossed at the time that she forgot all about the case ; 
 but this little explanation she naturally omitted.) When 
 she did deliver the case, Mrs. Mixon opened it in her 
 presence, and she remembered that the latter had called
 
 THE VERDICT. 359 
 
 her attention to the fact that one of .the sleeve-buttons 
 was missing. Finally, Hortense was confronted with a 
 negro woman whom she immediately identified as the 
 one from whose person the jewel case had fallen. In 
 vain did the prosecution endeavor to shake her testi 
 mony ; like that of Mrs. Mixon, it had been given 
 with great clearness, and the attorney-general soon 
 abandoned the effort. 
 
 This negro woman, known in Belleville as Mirandy, 
 was the witness whose arrest Gravoir had effected on 
 the previous evening, and of whose existence he had 
 become acquainted through Hortense. Subjected to 
 an examination, she at first obstinately refused to 
 answer any question, until the court had threatened 
 her with imprisonment. Then she admitted having 
 had the jewelry, saying that she had found the case on 
 the road, and, evidently through fear of being held 
 responsible, she stoutly maintained that the case con 
 tained only one sleeve-button when it came into her 
 possession. With this information the defence was 
 obliged to rest content, as the woman either did not 
 or pretended not to know more. 
 
 After several jewelers had testified to having been 
 notified by Major Mixon of his loss, the defence 
 announced themselves ready for argument. 
 
 During the next two hours, the court-room rang 
 with the voices of the opposing counsel, and the atten 
 tion the audience gave showed how deep was popular 
 interest in the case. There was undoubtedly on each 
 side some of the best legal talent in the State ; and by 
 the time the speeches were ended, the lawyers had suc 
 ceeded in working up almost every one present to an 
 intense anxiety about the result. As the last words
 
 360 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 were spoken, the more nervous people drew a long 
 breath, re-arranged themselves comfortably in their 
 seats, and asked their neighbors what they thought. 
 The lawyers were awaiting the judge's charge to 
 them the real verdict in the case. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," began his Honor, in a loud 
 clear voice, " the indictment upon which is based the 
 present prosecution against the prisoners at the bar, 
 consists of two counts. One count charges them with 
 a conspiracy to take the life of the negro Nebuchad 
 nezzar, and the other charges them with the murder of 
 the said negro. 
 
 " In order that there may be a conspiracy, there 
 must be at least two conspirators. One person alone 
 cannot be convicted of a conspiracy. Although evi 
 dence has been adduced which establishes the exist 
 ence of a conspiracy to bring about the lynching, and 
 slight evidence, raising a rather strong presumption, 
 that the defendant Mixon was implicated in the alleged 
 conspiracy, there is no evidence connecting the defend 
 ant Graham with the affair. You will therefore bring 
 in a verdict of acquittal on the first count. 
 
 " As to the second count, in which the defendants 
 are charged with murder, the evidence for the prose 
 cution has failed altogether to connect the defendant 
 Graham with the crime. The only evidence which 
 throws the least suspicion upon him, is the fact that 
 the defendant Mixon was in the court-yard adjoining 
 Mr. Graham's library, and that he may have overheard 
 the conversation of the sheriff with the defendant Gra 
 ham. But the casual presence of Major Mixon, as 
 established by Miss Gildersleeve, and the zeal with which 
 Graham pursued the unknown horseman on the night
 
 THE VERDICT. 361 
 
 of the lynching, is sufficient evidence to exonerate 
 him. 
 
 " As to the defendant Mixon, the evidence is purely 
 circumstantial. In support of the prosecution, we 
 have evidence of a motive for the crime, of Major 
 Mixon's previous hunt after the negro, and his threats 
 to deal out justice to him with his own hands on the 
 first opportunity. It is also shown that he was in a 
 position where he might have overheard the conversa 
 tion of the sheriff with Graham in respect to the sur 
 render of the negro ; and the flight of the horseman 
 down the avenue leading to Major Mixon's house is 
 another circumstance bearing against him. On the 
 other hand, the defence shows that when the sheriff's 
 posse arrived at his residence, only a few moments 
 after the horseman had disappeared, the defendant 
 appeared at an upper window, in his nig ; ;t clothes, 
 having evidently been aroused from sleep, and that he 
 seemed much surprised by their visit. The only 
 other evidence in the case, connecting the defendant 
 Mixon with the crime, is Tomkins' testimony in refer 
 ence to finding one of Major Mixon's sleeve-buttons 
 near the lake on the day after the lynching. Mrs. 
 Mixon, however, testifies that she had possession of 
 the sleeve-buttons for some weeks after the crime was 
 committed, and that her husband never wore them 
 except on dress occasions. 
 
 " Gentlemen, you are by the law judges of the facts, 
 but it is my duty to assist you in arriving at your con 
 clusions. Tomkins' evidence is inherently unreliable ; 
 and the other evidence only raises a presumption, 
 although a very strong presumption, that the defendant
 
 362 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 Mixon is guilty of the murder of 'Nezzar. But it is 
 my opinion that the evidence is not strong enough to 
 convict him. You will now retire to your room for 
 deliberation, and the court will await your return." * 
 
 At the conclusion of the charge, when the jury 
 filed out, Gravoir's countenance was placid, as though 
 he had been relieved of a mental strain. He walked 
 over to where Mrs. Mixon sat and said : 
 
 "I congratulate you, Carrie, on your husband's 
 safety." 
 
 The little lady clasped her hands together with the 
 nervousness that comes from a happiness not yet 
 wholly assured, and looked smilingly and gratefully up 
 into her relative's face. The Major stroked his beard 
 with the half-modest, half self-conscious air of a man 
 who had had justice " only justice, sir ! " done 
 him ; and, in fact, everybody interested in the defence 
 seemed happy and contented. Maurice Graham alone 
 appeared indifferent to what was going on. He leaned 
 back against the railing of the dock, with his eyes 
 almost closed, and looked like a man who was very 
 weary. Occasionally, when unobserved, Hortense 
 would glance furtively at him ; and as her eyes 
 
 * In the State where this trial is supposed to have been held, there is still 
 in force the old English common law, which gives the judge the right to 
 advise and assist the jury in their consideration of evidence. Many others of 
 the States have, however, deprived the bench by statute of this power of 
 recapitulating the evidence, and of commenting on its bearing and weight. 
 They permit the judge to instruct the jury only as to the law, and leave the 
 other important questions of fact to be determined upon solely by partly ignor 
 ant and all unskilled men, without even the assistance of an experienced mind 
 to unravel the tangle in which the lawyers, on one or the other side, often 
 leave a case. The action of these States in this respect may be consonant 
 with what many call the progressiveness of popular liberty, but it can hardly 
 be considered an improvement on the common sense of our ancestors.
 
 THE VERDICT. 363 
 
 rested momentarily on his face, it had that same wist 
 ful expression she had once before cast across the break 
 fast table. 
 
 Considering the nature of the judge's charge, no 
 body thought that the jury would be out long, and so 
 the audience were not very much surprised when, some 
 fifteen minutes later, a sudden confusion near one of 
 the doors startled them into expectancy. Directly, 
 the twelve men entered, two abreast ; they crossed the 
 room with measured tread, as though fully aware of 
 their importance, and resumed their seats amid an 
 impressive silence. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," asked the judge, " have 
 you agreed upon a verdict ? " 
 
 "We has, yer Honah," answered the foreman, a 
 negro. 
 
 " How do you find the defendants, guilty or not 
 guilty ? " 
 
 " We find dat both de defendants is guilty ob mur 
 der." 
 
 For the first time during the trial, Gravoir lost his 
 self-control. He seemed to share with the audience 
 the shock that had electrified them. Springing from 
 his seat, he cried out excitedly : 
 
 " I object, your Honor, I object ! I move to set 
 aside " 
 
 " Never mind, Mr. Gravoir," interrupted the Court. 
 " Not a word is necessary, sir. I would not allow such 
 a verdict to stand in my court for a minute. Gentle 
 men of the jury, you are discharged ; you have dis 
 tinguished yourselves ! I grant a new trial of this 
 case at the next term of court. The defendants are
 
 364 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 released on bail, Major Mixon's amount being reduced 
 to five thousand dollars, and Mr. Graham's to five hun 
 dred. The clerk will immediately make out the nec 
 essary papers. This court now stands adjourned until 
 ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 MAN PROPOSES, BUT WOMAN 
 
 IT was on the second day after the trial, that Mau 
 rice Graham and Aunt Dinah were together in 
 the former's library, where they had been for some 
 minutes talking together. She stood regarding him 
 from a little distance with mute admiration. Good old 
 soul ! She never could look at him enough, especially 
 since his sickness ; and just now the expression of 
 pride and affection playing over her features almost 
 beautified the honest black face. He was sitting near 
 a desk, in almost the same position he occupied on the 
 night when the sheriff called ; and he appeared thought 
 ful or perplexed, but with flushed cheeks, and a strange, 
 joyful light in his eyes. At last he looked up, and 
 said : 
 
 " You are sure, mauma, about what you have told 
 me ? " 
 
 " Sure's I's a libin' 'ooman, Marse Maurice ! " she 
 replied earnestly, her face becoming serious im 
 mediately. "I 'lowed datyer ought ter know, 'tic'larly 
 sence de trial showed dat she's 'quainted wid so much 
 o' yer doings. She's ebidently been watchin' yer fur 
 a long time. Dese Yankees, yer see, dey is mighty 
 sharp, dey is, fur a fac' ; an' dis yer gal an' her folks 
 come from the place whar dey meks de wooden nut 
 megs dat I hearn tell on." 
 
 (365)
 
 3G6 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 "And so you think I had better be careful, eh?" 
 he asked, scarcely able to repress a smile. 
 
 " 'Deed yer has ter be ! Lors sakes, marsa, don't 
 laugh ! Tek care ! Dat gal will try fur ter ketch yer 
 yit, sure's you's my chile ! She's got her eye on yer 
 now ; I seen it de hull time you was sick. No gal 
 nebber kiss a man like dat fur nuffin," shaking her head 
 sagaciously. 
 
 " But is she not a good girl ? " he asked, as though 
 in a mood for argument. 
 
 "Mebbe she is," replied Aunt Dinah cautiously. 
 " She was good ter yer when yer was so bad off, so I 
 says nuffin agin her. But tink ob her kissin' yer wid- 
 out eben de askin' ! " Annt Dinah's face looked un 
 utterable horror. 
 
 " But perhaps she was grateful to me for having 
 tried to help her father out of that scrape, mauma." 
 
 " Yes, an' mebbe she's in love wid yer fur de same 
 ting. Marse Maurice " with great emphasis " rec'- 
 lect dat she's a Yankee gal ! Is dese Yankee gals lib- 
 erted ter ketch our boys ? Recken she tinks she's 
 good 'nouf fur yer ! " with a decided sniff of con 
 tempt. 
 
 ' But isn't she good, and beautiful, and sensible ? " 
 persisted Maurice delighting to humor his old nurse, 
 and glad indeed to linger about such a subject. 
 
 " All dat's no 'count. She ain't one ob our gals ; 
 she's a Yankee," returned Aunt Dinah, sententiously. 
 
 "Thank you, mauma, for telling me, but be sure 
 you don't let any one else know, not even mother." 
 
 " Don't yer be feared ! I ain't gwine ter hab no 
 one ter know dat she kissed my chile ! " 
 
 After the old woman had gone, Maurice sat quietly
 
 MAN PROPOSES, BUT WOMAN .? 367 
 
 in his library for a long time, absorbed by his thoughts 
 and the story told him by his nurse. Long ago he 
 had determined to forget and to outlive the foolish 
 fancy that had entered his heart. He had conscien 
 tiously faced what seemed to be inevitable, because he 
 believed that the object of his affections loved another. 
 But this revelation had scattered his conclusions to the 
 winds, and left him hopeful, doubting, hesitating to 
 act, a prey to all the emotions that desire and uncer 
 tainty can arouse. 
 
 " Yes, it must be so. And yet suppose I am mis 
 taken, and only make a fool of myself ? Ernest Trun- 
 don ! How I have remembered his name ever since 
 that evening ! I wonder what kind of a fellow he is ? 
 It must be ! It must be ! She's not the girl to kiss a 
 man capriciously ; if she did it, she meant it. Let me 
 think : Aunt Dinah and Trundon see her kiss me ; she 
 faints, and he leaves next morning ; what more prob 
 able than that her engagement is broken ? Did she 
 ever love him ? Perhaps not, for sometimes a woman 
 engages herself without being very much in love ; or 
 may not her feelings have changed ? Why should he 
 come so suddenly ? Why should she kiss me and faint 
 
 unless unless Bah ! what a fool I am to 
 
 dream of such a thing ! " 
 
 Nevertheless, when the bell, ringing for lunch, in 
 terrupted his meditations, Maurice Graham had deter 
 mined to find out whether or not she loved Ernest 
 Trundon, and if she did why, then, the sooner he 
 was off for the Southwest the better for his health, of 
 course. 
 
 Thus it was that a little after sunset the same after 
 noon, he found himself in Belleville. No sooner had 
 Y
 
 368 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 he stepped off the cars than he began blaming 
 himself for his haste. But it was too late to retreat, 
 and if necessary his visit could be made only a social 
 one after all. He walked on rapidly through the town, 
 and as he entered the Gildersleeves' premises he saw 
 Hortense sitting on the front steps. 
 
 " Why, is that you, Mr. Graham ? Where did you 
 come from ? I am so glad to see you ! Sit right down 
 here," said she, as he approached. 
 
 " What were you doing all by yourself ? " he asked, 
 taking a seat beside her. 
 
 " Father and mother went out riding, and I stayed 
 at home ; so, to fill up the time, I have been musing." 
 
 " Musing ? About what, may I ask ? " 
 
 " Oh, calling up reminiscences. Don't you ever do 
 that ? or perhaps you are too practical to waste time 
 that way." 
 
 " But I do, sometimes. Indeed, I was thinking 
 to-day of a conversation you and I had last winter. 
 Do you remember it ? " 
 
 She knew in a moment what he meant. Something 
 in his tone, its sudden assumption of seriousness, and 
 the earnest and eager look he cast upon her, immedi 
 ately arrested her attention ; and as the thoughts of 
 both had happened to wander in very much the same 
 direction that afternoon, she failed to notice the incon 
 gruity of his approaching this subject so unexpectedly 
 and after such a lapse of time. But, true to the in 
 stincts of her sex, she was quickly on the defensive, 
 and answered lightly : 
 
 " Really, Mr. Graham, I enjoy your conversations 
 too much to be able to recall any one of them separ 
 ately. They are all delightful."
 
 MAN PROPOSES, BUT WOMAN' ? 369 
 
 There was no tinge of good-natured sarcasm in her 
 voice or words, but they rather invited further investi 
 gation. So he returned : 
 
 " But this one was out of the ordinary. I mean the 
 one when you told me of your engagement." 
 
 " Did I tell you that nonsense ? What a goose I 
 was ! " 
 
 " You see I haven't forgotten it ; my memory is 
 good ! " 
 
 " Yes, we have all feared that your sickness might 
 leave some unhappy effect on your mind ; and we 
 ought to feel grateful to the doctors that you are so 
 fully recovered." 
 
 "Quite fortunate, indeed. But to return to our 
 original subject : Are you still engaged ? " 
 
 " Who told you that ? " said she, a little sharply. 
 
 " A fortune-teller. So it is true, then ? " 
 
 " I think you are provokingly inquisitive ! " Then 
 she laughed softly to herself. In spite of the tremor 
 that was beginning to steal into her voice, she could 
 not help realizing the ridiculous contradiction to her 
 words implied by the half-amused, anything but re 
 sentful, tone in which she spoke. 
 
 And Maurice, on his part, could hardly have taken 
 her words at their pretended value, else he was a very 
 audacious man ; for he drew a little closer and bent 
 his head nearer hers. 
 
 "But you ought to let me know," he continued ; 
 " I have a very good reason for asking, and we'll 
 exchange confidences." 
 
 " Are you sure you have a genuine article to give in 
 return, and won't cheat me ? " she asked, her manner 
 at the moment blending the serious, the comic, and a
 
 370 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 certain girlish simplicity, into a most fascinating com 
 bination. 
 
 " I'll swear to it ! " 
 
 " Don't be so emphatic." 
 
 " But your answer ! " 
 
 " Oh, about the engagement ? Well, then, I am no 
 longer engaged. There, you persistent fellow ; I 
 hope you are satisfied now ! Come, let's take a walk 
 in the garden ; " and she half arose. 
 
 " No," said he, gently detaining her. " Have you 
 forgotten the return I was to make ? " Maurice's voice 
 grew husky with emotion he could barely restrain. 
 
 " Pshaw ! I took it for granted that what you had 
 to give was scarcely worth the having," she answered, 
 trying in vain to assume a careless manner, as she felt 
 her own composure diminishing every moment. 
 
 " Hortense Gildersleeve, how can you speak so 
 coldly ? Don't you know I love you ? Could you not 
 guess the truth ? I thought you knew it ! " 
 
 "I I had not the advantage of a fortune-teller, 
 Mr. Graham," was her last weak attempt at defense. 
 
 " You don't need one now ! I tell you I love you ; 
 my whole heart has gone to you ; and now that you are 
 free, may I not plead my cause? Listen to -me, my 
 darling ; give me a little hope, just a little, and I'll try 
 to be content." 
 
 Her head had sunk so low that although his was 
 bending near he could not see her face in the dim 
 and dusky light. She gave no answer ; the girl's 
 heart was too full for words. 
 
 " And have you nothing to say to me ? Must I go 
 without a word ? " he asked, after a little pause. 
 
 Somehow at that moment his hand met hers, and
 
 MAN PROPOSES, BUT WOMAN f 371 
 
 the answer was silently given. Before they had parted 
 that evening, she told him the whole story of her first 
 engagement ; and with her good-night kiss still warm 
 upon his lips, Maurice Graham knew that he had won 
 the greatest joy of his life. 
 
 " Who would have thought it, mother ? " asked John 
 Gildersleeve of his wife, in a rather helpless way, the 
 next evening. 
 
 "Yes, to be sure, it's sudden," she answered ; "but 
 after Ernest, I don't see how she could have done bet 
 ter." 
 
 " Oh, I was not finding fault with him it is Hor- 
 tense who has disappointed me. Just to think of all 
 this happening, and we never suspecting it ! " 
 
 "It's plain -to see now that she's desperately in 
 love," remarked his wife, holding up to the light the 
 needle she was about to thread. 
 
 " Yes ; and I had set her down for an old maid ! " 
 
 " And now they're already talking about marriage 
 in the spring ! It shows how much you men know 
 about such things ! " laughed his wife, evidently rel 
 ishing the discomfiture of the shrewd business man. 
 " Well, it is a great relief to know that she has chosen 
 wisely, for it would be hard to oppose her in such a 
 matter."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 WHEN the election was over and the campaign 
 ended, it was discovered that the vote polled 
 by the two parties was very close ; and for weeks after 
 wards it was impossible to obtain any definite knowl 
 edge of the result. The Radicals, having possession 
 of the government, knew how to profit by that advant 
 age ; and the State issue being intimately connected 
 with the National contest, the central powers, as all the 
 country knows, unhesitatingly threw its support on the 
 side of Radicalism. But despite various sharp prac 
 tices, through returning boards and otherwise, it soon 
 became known that the Democratic candidates had, at 
 least on the face of the returns, received a majority. 
 During this period of uncertainty, charges of fraud, 
 intimidation and bribery, were freely bandied about, 
 and probably in some instances they were founded on 
 fact. The Democrats consoled themselves with the 
 belief that it was a case in which they had to fight the 
 devil with his own weapons ; that the issue raised by 
 past and impending evils, together with the unblush 
 ing practices of their opponents, of which " repeating " 
 negro voters was the most common completely over 
 shadowed certain little irregularities of their own that 
 would have been difficult to explain, but which did not 
 prevent them from demanding the fruit of their efforts. 
 
 (372)
 
 CONCLUSION. 373 
 
 With the same surprising unanimity that had charac 
 terized them throughout the campaign, the entire white 
 people agreed to resist the attempt to wrest away the 
 prize they had worked so hard to obtain ; and their 
 feelings may be imagined when they freely expressed 
 a preference for military rule rather than submit to a 
 continuance of the existing government. Equally 
 determined, jubilant, and supported by the central 
 powers, the Radicals maintained their position with 
 great effrontery, and unscrupulously cast out the vote 
 of enough precincts to give themselves the State offices 
 and a majority in the House of Representatives. In 
 the Senate they had a legal majority. 
 
 When the day came for the legislature to meet, the 
 doors of the Capitol were found guarded by 
 United States soldiers, and the admission of the white 
 members was delayed until their credentials had 
 been inspected the object being to prevent the en 
 trance of the Democratic candidates from the disputed 
 counties. This being accomplished, the Democrats, 
 after vainly protesting against the outrage, refused to 
 participate in the proceedings unless the same privilege 
 was accorded all their members, and after considerable 
 excitement they retired, as they had come, in a body. 
 A few days afterwards, before the usual time for meet 
 ing, the Democrats repaired to the Capitol, and, as 
 their coming was unexpected, they easily gained an 
 entrance and took possession of their seats. When 
 the Republicans arrived, there ensued a scene which 
 reflected no glory on either party, and which mocks 
 description. Two speakers, two clerks, and practic 
 ally two bodies occupying the same hall, both claiming 
 to be the legally constituted House of Representatives,
 
 374 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 with members of each on the floor endeavoring to 
 transact business of a different nature at the same time, 
 combined to form a spectacle of disorder and confu 
 sion that can be likened only to that around the tower 
 of Babel. No violence was done, but this siege was 
 maintained for several days, when the Democrats re 
 tired, having gained nothing by their strategic move 
 ment. 
 
 The next step on the part of the Democrats was to 
 form themselves into an independent assembly ; but 
 their Senate being without a quorum, their proceed 
 ings were of course irregular. This, however, did not 
 prevent Governor Peyteinte from taking the oath of 
 office, and he was inaugurated amid the applause of 
 some twenty thousand people, gathered from all parts 
 of the State. Northborn was also sworn in by the 
 Radicals. There were then two governments in every 
 department, each performing governmental functions, 
 so far as the abnormal state of affairs would permit. 
 But as the Radicals had control of the offices and the 
 treasury, the Democrats were without funds, and their 
 irregular organization prevented the levying a tax upon 
 the people. They therefore passed a concurrent res 
 olution, signed by Governor Peyteinte, authorizing the 
 latter to call upon the people for an advance of one- 
 tenth of the taxes levied the year previous, which 
 would be credited on their tax returns at the restora 
 tion of peace and order. Commissioners were ap 
 pointed, and when their reports were made it was 
 found that one hundred and twenty thousand dollars 
 had been paid in, and that the receipts lacked only 
 twenty thousand dollars of what a compulsory levy 
 would have furnished. Such remarkable and unani-
 
 CONCLUSION. 375 
 
 mous devotion to a government which as yet could 
 scarcely be called established save in the hearts of the 
 people, has perhaps seldom been witnessed ; and it also 
 told the whole country, in unmistakable terms, how the 
 tax-paying element revolted against the rule of cor 
 ruption which had been endured so long. 
 
 This contest for the mastery between the two par 
 ties lasted for four months, and the suspense in which 
 the people remained during that period was depressing 
 in the extreme to all classes of industry. Political 
 excitement prevailed everywhere, and crowds of 
 excited and determined men gathered in the capital 
 of the State, prone to mischief through their rash and 
 impetuous zeal. At one time there were thousands of 
 armed white men in and around Clinton, ready at the 
 word of the Democratic governor to eject the small 
 squad of soldiers and seize the public buildings. One 
 day the patience of these men became in some way 
 strained to the utmost, and suddenly a spontaneous 
 movement began towards the capitol. But at the very 
 crisis, before they had brought irretrievable disaster to 
 their cause, Governor Peyteinte appeared and calmed 
 the angry multitude by the voice which they all loved 
 and respected. So thoroughly in unison were they 
 with their leader, so devoted and so trusting, that they 
 silently yielded to his appeals -to leave the solution of 
 their difficulties to peaceful means. 
 
 The end came at last. When the new President 
 was inaugurated on the fourth of March, negotiations 
 were at once begun for relief ; and finally the Execu 
 tive adopted the only safe course, by withdrawing the 
 handful of troops and allowing the party which pos 
 sessed the power and support of the people to assume
 
 376 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 control. On the tenth day of April, orders reached 
 Clinton to remove the soldiers ; and on the eleventh 
 the Radical regime was a thing of the past. Thus 
 came to its death one of the worst governments that 
 has disgraced modern civilization ; and, arnid the joy 
 ous acclamations of her citizens, the New South was 
 born. 
 
 One day early in the new year, the town of Belle 
 ville discovered that the Rev. Mr. Tomkins no 
 longer desired to dwell within its limits, and had 
 departed to adorn a more appreciative sphere. It 
 appears from the best accounts that is, from the 
 sufferers themselves that his congregation had con 
 fided some money to his care, which he saw fit to use 
 as seemed best to him at the time. When the election 
 resulted so disastrously to his party, Tomkins had a 
 quarrel with his patron, Sharpe, on account of a refu 
 sal by the latter to render his servant certain pecuniary 
 remuneration. Disappointed in obtaining the prom 
 ised money, and unable to meet the demands of his 
 enraged congregation, Tomkins would gladly have 
 availed himself of the bankrupt act ; but the righteous 
 indignation of " de brudders an' sisters" rendered him 
 apprehensive for his personal safety, and so the town 
 awoke one morning to mourn its loss. Later on, 
 vague reports circulated around Belleville that he was 
 taking an active part in the exodus to Kansas ; but 
 these rumors were probably unreliable. As for Sharpe, 
 he retired when the game was over, with quite a 
 respectable fortune, and is most likely living as a use 
 ful and respected citizen in some portion of the Union. 
 
 Early in the spring, when Democratic success was 
 no longer uncertain, the old negress, Mirandy, was
 
 CONCLUSION. 377 
 
 again subjected to an examination, and, upon promise 
 of pardon for herself and all others concerned, she 
 confessed having received the jewel case from her 
 daughter Hetty, the Mixons' servant. Hetty, in turn, 
 and also with a promise of immunity., related how she 
 had stolen the case at the instigation of Tomkins, and 
 had at first buried it under a tree, after abstracting 
 one sleeve-button, which she gave to the preacher. 
 When some time had passed, she dug up the case and 
 confided it to her mother for safe keeping. Finally, it 
 having in some way become known how Hortense's 
 information got to the prosecution, the mystery of the 
 affair was cleared up to the satisfaction of all parties. 
 After these developments, the State's Attorney was 
 easily persuaded to enter a nol. pros., and the case 
 against Mixon and Graham was dismissed. It was 
 surprising how pliable the few Radicals who still held 
 office had become when the Democrats obtained 
 control. 
 
 Maurice Graham and Hortense Gildersleeve were 
 married, " at the residence of the bride's parents, in 
 Belleville," as the cards announced, the following 
 June ; and immediately after the ceremony, the couple, 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Gildersleeve, took the train for the 
 North, where they spent the summer, returning South 
 in the fall. The wedding was a very quiet affair, only 
 a few intimate friends being present besides the two 
 families ; but among the guests was Ernest Trundon, 
 who came from Boston especially to attend. It might 
 be told where the younger Grahams now live in Car- 
 rollton ; how Aunt Dinah finally became reconciled to 
 the marriage, though she never could wholly forget 
 that " a Yankee gal had ketched her young marsa ; "
 
 378 THE SHADOW OF THE WAR. 
 
 how the firm of Gravoir & Graham is prospering, and 
 indeed, a great deal might be said about their happy 
 home life, but Hortense has lately expressed the 
 emphatic opinion that these things concern only the 
 family. 
 
 When the excitement of politics had subsided, 
 Major Mixon devoted himself assiduously to business. 
 A year or two later, he erected a saw-mill on the banks 
 of the river flowing through his pine forests, and since 
 then he has been making more money by his own 
 industry than ever before in his life. He is prosper 
 ing, and his wife is happy. 
 
 The New South has entered on her career, and at 
 last, being granted equal social conditions with the 
 rest of our country, it remains for her people to shape 
 their own future ; and time will prove whether they 
 possess those inherent qualities which make a land 
 prosperous and happy, and whether the bitter lessons 
 of the past have taught them to discern and provide 
 against the dangers which will threaten the future if a 
 spirit of intolerance and opposition the most preg 
 nant source of their troubles in the past shall control 
 their actions and obscure their judgment.
 
 "Stirring events are graphically told in this series 
 of romances." Home Journal, 'New York. 
 
 TIMES OF GUSTAF ADOLF. 
 
 AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE OF THE EXCITING 
 TIMES OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL SWEDISH. 
 
 BY Z. TOPELIUS. 
 I2mo, extra cloth, black and gilt. Price $1.25. 
 
 "A vivid, romantic picturing of one of the most fascinating 
 periods of human history." The Times, Philadelphia. 
 
 "Every scene, every character, every detail, is instinct with 
 life. * * From beginning to end we are aroused, amused, 
 absorbed." The Tribune, Chicago. 
 
 "The author has a genuine enthusiasm for his subject, and 
 stirs up his readers' hearts in an exciting manner. The old times 
 live again for us, and besides the interest of great events, there is 
 the interest of humble souls immersed in their confusions. 'Scott, 
 the delight of glorious boys,' will find a rival in these Surgeon 
 Stories." The Christian Register, Boston. 
 
 " It is difficult to give an idea of the vividness of the descrip 
 tions in these stories without making extracts which would be 
 entirely too long. It is safe to say, however, that no one could 
 possibly fail to be carried along by the torrent of fiery narration 
 which marks these wonderful tales. * * Never was the mar 
 velous deviltry of the Jesuits so portrayed. Never were the horrors 
 of war painted in more lurid colors." The Press, Philadelphia. 
 
 " The style is simple and agreeable. * * There is a natu 
 ral truthfulness, which appears to be the characteristic of all 
 these Northern authors. Nothing appears forced ; nothing 
 indicates that the writer ever thought of style, yet the style is such 
 as could not well be improved upon. He is evidently thoroughly 
 imbued with the loftiest ideas, and the men and women whom he 
 draws with the novelist's facility and art are as admirable as his 
 manner of interweaving their lives with their country's battles 
 and achievements." The Graphic, New York. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed postpaid, on re 
 ceipt of price, by the publishers. 
 
 JANSEN, McCLURG, & CO., 
 1 1 7, 1 1 9 & 1 2 1 Wabash Av., Chicago, 111.
 
 " A brilliant book of Brazilian travels." 
 
 Christian Advocate, Chicago. 
 
 ROUND ABOUT RIO. 
 
 BY FRANK D. Y. CARPENTER. PRICE, $2.00. 
 
 A new book of Brazilian Travels, written by a scientific gentleman 
 
 who held for several years the position of Geographer of the 
 
 Geological Survey of Brazil, and under these peculiarly 
 
 favorable conditions, acquired the material of 
 
 which this book is made. 
 
 " In some respects it is the cleverest book of travels that has 
 appeared since Mark Twain's ' Innocents Abroad.' " Buffalo Ex. 
 
 " The author's studies of Brazilian life and manners, and his 
 method of presenting them, are unique, and his book occupies a 
 place quite its own among works of travel." //i?;<f Journal, Boston. 
 
 " It recounts the adventures of young people in the neighbor 
 hood of Rio Janeiro, and is full of information and life. It is a 
 book which the thoughtful will read for information, and the young 
 for its genuine fun." N. Y. Christian Advocate. . 
 
 "A brilliant book of Brazilian travels, entirely unlike any 
 now before the public. . . It is doubtful if there is anywhere 
 to be found so good a picture of life and scenes in and about the 
 great metropolis of the Southern Hemisphere Rio de Janeiro." 
 Christian Advocate, Chicago. 
 
 " Mr. Carpenter is thoroughly acquainted with Brazilian life 
 and manners, having obtained his knowledge under peculiarly 
 favorable circumstances, and the half cynical, wholly humorous 
 vein, in which he writes is as novel as it is amusing. The solid 
 pellets of information are so successfully sugared with conversation 
 that the most inveterate reader of fiction must swallow them with 
 pleasure. Among books of its class it will take a foremost rank." 
 Boston Globe. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, post-paid, on 
 receipt of price, by the publishers, 
 
 JANSEN, McCLURG, & CO., 
 Cor. Wabash Ave. and Madison St., Chicago.
 
 "A record of stirring dates and deeds. 99 
 
 Pioneer Press, St Paul 
 
 POLITICAL RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 1840 to 1872. 
 
 BY HON GEORGE W. JULIAN. PRICE, $1.50. 
 
 " His attitude is that of one who is done with politics and can 
 review the fields fought over, without bitterness."-./V<?z0 York Sun. 
 
 ''Like Wraxall's ' Historical Memoirs,' this book infuses dry 
 detail with a personal interest, a biographical charm, which 
 makes it by far the most attractive account of the anti-slavery re 
 form that we have yet seen." Boston Transcript. 
 
 "The lesson of the book is the lesson of a dedicated life. 
 The service of his constituents during his long term in Congress 
 seems to have been a passion, and he was ready at all times, to 
 perform it without counting the cost to himself." Indianapolis 
 Sentinel. 
 
 "Mr. Julian was always a man of strong opinions, and has a 
 vigorous and generally clear way of stating them. His loves and 
 his hates were also intense. It is quite natural, therefore, that we 
 should find the story of his personal share in the conflicts of his 
 active career spiced with sketches of his great contemporaries, in 
 which they are painted with the colors they had to him, and not 
 always those in which their owr> friends would have presented 
 them." 7^he Nation, New York. 
 
 "Mr. Julian gives only brief attention to campaigns ; more 
 vital incidents press upon his attention, It was in the rise of the 
 republican party his heart was centered, and when ' stern visaged 
 war' came on apace his every energy was to measures for the 
 preservation of the Union. He met all the public men of his 
 day, was intimate with many of them and understood the motive 
 by which they were guided. He was thus equipped with the 
 facts, and a clear style, combining vigor and piquancy, has en 
 abled him to produce a book that is intensely interesting. It 
 will necessarily have hosts of readers." Herald, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or sent by mail, post 
 paid, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 
 
 JANSEN, McCLURG, & CO., 
 Cor. Wabash Ave. and Madison St., Chicago.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 1 
 
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 01 OCT 1 4 19? 6 
 
 SEP 1 
 
 Form L9 

 
 
 PLEA**? DO NOT REMOVE 
 THIS BOOK CARD" 
 
 University Research Library 
 
 [fl 
 
 I 
 
 a 
 
 PS 
 991