Sh\ -

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

Hugh Harrison,

(A MULATTO.)

BY
A. C. HOUSTON.

RICHMOND, VA. :
J. W. RANDOLPH & ENGLISH.
1890.

Hugh Harrison,
A MULATTO.

CHAPTER I.
Hugh Harrison was a mulatto. His grandmother
was one-half white. His mother was three-fourths
white. He was seven-eighths white — and yet Hugh
Harrison was a negro.
When you ask why, it startles questions like birds
from cover — hard to overtake. It is conjectured a
million years may suffice to transmute a species. To
transmute a human type, in the native land, from black
to white — from slave to master — I know not how long.
Certainly a deep ' ' sleep and a forgetting. ' '
Some ten years before the civil war, Hugh was born
a slave in the house of Colonel William Harrison, in
one of the outlying counties of Virginia. Near the
same time a little girl was born to Colonel Harrison
and his wife. Mrs. Harrison was a delicate woman,
and soon after the birth of her child died.
The motherless one, named Evelyn, was taken by
the mother of Hugh, and the little white girl and the
negro boy were nurtured at the same breasts.
Colonel Harrison's family consisted of two boys and

4 HUGH HARRISON.

a girl ; but the old homestead, situated but a short dis
tance from the county-seat, was a favorite resort for
many relations and friends, and consequently was filled
to overflowing at certain seasons of the year.
Hugh grew up with the children of the household,
and, when his age permitted, became a house-servant.
In this capacity he acquired the language and absorbed
the manners and customs of an educated and cultured
people, and became the refined gentleman he continued
to the day of his death.
His slave life was uneventful, yet filled with the
faithful discharge of the duties of a capable and trusted
servant, he became a necessary factor in the home-life
of the Harrisons.
With the close of the civil war came freedom ; but
he and his mother remained at the old homestead.
She, at first a child there, then- a nurse to the older
children, and now a mother to Evelyn, could not be let
into another life by emancipation. She had never
heard the clanking of chains, and when they dropped
from her arms she felt no greater liberty. Was not
this her home, and were not her children about her ?
The horizon of Hugh's life, however, widened. Fif
teen years old, he began to attend the free school pro
vided by the State for the education of her citizens.
Hugh had good blood in his veins, and it was made
manifest by his speedy acquisition of a fair English
education. The limit of opportunity was reached in
a few years at the country school. The thirst for
knowledge was acquired, and it must be satisfied. So
a situation having been obtained for him as servant in
the house of an acquaintance of the Harrisons at Wash
ington, he there, while performing the duties of his p0-

HUGH HARRISON.

sition, attended the schools of the Capital and received
a better and more extended education.
But Hugh, for some reason, after a few years, gave
up his position in the city and sought again the haunts
and faces of his old home.
While at the Capital of the nation he learned much of
the history of the country ; of legislation, its methods
and objects ; of parties, their principles and histories ;
and of the great issues that had been and were then
presented for settlement by the people.
Shortly after his return his mother died. She had
been the main stay of her former master's family, and
Hugh had the sympathy of other hearts in this trying
hour, and other tears besides his own fell upon his
mother's grave.
After this sad event he left his former home and
moved to the county-seat. Here he principally em
ployed himself in taking care of the offices and rooms
of professional men. His honesty and capacity com
mended him to every one. Still at frequent intervals
he was found discharging his former duties at the old
home, where he was sent for when special emergencies
demanded additional service. And then, upon "house-
cleaning ' ' days it was thought none could take the
place of Hugh : so there he was found at such times.
Among the professional men whom Hugh served in
the town was Henry Carrington, a lawyer highly es
teemed at his own bar and of considerable repute
within the limits of his State. He had grown gray in
law and celibacy, and his only home was his office and
his consulting-room. The latter was his bedroom.
One frosty morning, in the winter of 1874, Hugh,
in the routine of his morning work, entered the office

6 HUGH HARRISON.

and bed- room of Mr. Carrington, kindled a blazing
fire in the grate and began brushing and blacking a
pair of well worn boots he had picked up from beside
the bed. Carrington, yawning, threw aside the cover,
and sitting on the bedside slowly began to dress, when
he abruptly said :
" Hugh, why don't you study a profession? Your
people are free. Every profession is open to you, and
you have plenty of brains."
"Ah ; I don't know," said Hugh, rather languidly,
as he brushed away at the boot. "I don't think there
is anything in that for me."
" Why not ? " said Carrington. There are five mil
lions of your race in the South. Their wealth, and
consequently their business, is increasing every year.
As a lawyer, where the negro population is large, I
think you could soon make a fortune."
"Well, I might; but to tell you the truth," said
Hugh, " I do not feel as though the negro race was
my race ; I am more white than black. Some how or
other I want to be with the white people. Their cul
tivation and manners attract me. What I would wish
for in the future seems bound up with the life of the
white man. Still I know I can never be anything
here but a negro. Sometimes it seems strange to me ;
and that is why I say I have no future but to live as I
have lived."
" But you must remember, Hugh," said Carrington,
struck by the turn the conversation had taken, "that
at least one-fourth of the negro race have some white
blood in them ; and I do not see why they all might
not have a common ambition to make a future for them-

HUGH HARRISON.

selves, independent, in a great measure, of the white
race." " I do not know, ' ' replied Hugh, ' ' that many of them
feel as I do. I was always with the white people, and
I would think that those especially who have much
white blood in them, as soon as they become more edu
cated, would see the great difference between white
people and black people, and would not want to go
back or stay with the negro; but I do not see how
they can ever do it."
Carrington, dressing while this conversation pro
ceeded, finished, and, in answer to the ringing of his
hotel bell, passed out to the street and left Hugh to
finish his accustomed work. As the lawyer walked
along the street with his eyes upon the pavement,
his mind took hold of a great problem and wrestled
with it.

CHAPTER II.

Evelyn had grown into a beautiful young woman,
and made the Harrison home an attractive place for
young men. Of the village beaux Charles Stuart
and Ralph Bouldin, two well-born young men, were
most frequently found and welcomed there. They
were rival contestants for the hand of Evelyn, and
though she treated them with indifferent kindness,
Ralph Bouldin, of an impetuous and implacable dis
position, felt that Charles Stuart was the favorite.
Evelyn, however, cared but little for either of them.
One evening they were found together at the home of

8 HUGH HARRISON.

Evelyn, where the hours went pleasantly by. When
Charles Stewart arose to leave, he playfully took from
a table a gold watch belonging to Evelyn, and putting
it into his pocket, carried it away, despite the threaten-
ings of Evelyn, which, however, seemed very mild to
Ralph, who, in a few moments after, also took his
leave, as Evelyn saw, not well pleased with the result
of the evening's visit.
Early next morning the startling intelligence that
the dead body of Charles Stuart had been found but a
short distance from his home spread like fire through
the little village. The officers of the law took the
body in charge, and a coroner's jury was summoned.
Examination showed that the dead man had been
struck in the back of the head with a rock, and that
his heart, by stabbings, had been actually cut to pieces.
Money and valuable papers were found upon his per
son. Robbery could not have been the object of the
murderer. No evidence was adduced implicating any
one, and the verdict of death at the hands of a person
or persons unknown to the j ury was returned.
During the day it was made known that Charles
Stuart had in his possession but a short time before
the murder was probably committed the watch of Miss
Evelyn Harrison. This was not found upon the body
of the dead man, and, after much discussion, the com
munity came to the belief that it was pulled from the
pocket in a struggle, and being afterwards picked up
by some one who, first through cupidity and then
through fear, did not produce it. If robbery was the
object, why did the murderer take the watch and leave
the money untouched?
The mind of every one in the little village, however

HUGH HARRISON. Q

continued to dwell upon the mystery and seek a solu
tion. As a result of their talk and questioning, a chain
of circumstantial evidence soon seemed to close around
one Joseph Bright, an ostler in the town — one of those
restless, roving creatures whom the war had broken
from his moorings and sent adrift. His antecedents
were not known. He had merely stranded here. There
was nothing in him to fight against suspicion, but
everything to invite it. By one he was seen lurking
in an alley leading from the street where the murder
was committed, at a late hour. By another person he
was seen hurrying to his room, hiding his face as he
passed. By another it was discovered that on the
morning after the murder his clothes were covered
with mud. To this, as important, was added the fact
that several days previous to the tragedy some angry
words passed between him and Charles Stuart with
reference to the hire of a horse, at which time threats
were made by Bright that some day he would ' ' get
even ' ' with Stuart.
Bright protested his innocence, but the public mind
was made up. He was arrested, ekamined before a
justice and committed, with a view to indictment and
trial. At the time of his arrest a thorough search
was made, not only of his person and effects, but of his
room and connected buildings, with the hope of find
ing Evelyn's watch, which, it was thought, would
place his guilt beyond question. The watch was not
found ; but a knife, marked with blood, was taken
from his person.
At the next term of the court Joseph Bright was
indicted for the murder of Charles Stuart, and the day
for trial was fixed.

10 HUGH HARRISON.

On account of the social prominence of the murdered
man and the atrocious manner of the killing, with the
mystery attaching, the expected trial drew together a
large concourse of people. Many from a distance at
tended, including representatives of the metropolitan
press. Among these latter there was a young man,
George Tucker, a native of the eastern portion of Vir
ginia who, at the close of the civil strife, had found
himself, like so many of his people, poverty-stricken,
both by the ravages of war and the emancipation of
slaves, and for a living had drifted into journalism.
New York city became his home, and he was now in
this country village to report for his paper the progress
and result of the trial.
At the appointed hour the prosecution of Joseph
Bright for the murder of Charles Stuart began.
Fact after fact was adduced, and when the State had
closed its direct testimony it seemed that the chain of
circumstantial evidence was complete. Witnesses for
the defence were called. Surprises followed, and many
links in the chain were broken. Notably, it was proven
that Joe Bright, on the day before the murder was com
mitted had performed a slight surgical operation upon
one of the horses of the stable in the presence of a boy,
who identified the knife and testified to the bloody con
dition in which it was when closed and placed by the
prisoner in his pocket. The State had failed. The
jury returned a verdict of "Not guilty," and Joseph
Bright went forth free. The earth still held the secret
of her blood and covered her slain.
The evening after the close of the trial a number of
gentlemen, including Mr. Tucker and Ralph Bouldin,
were found together at the home of Colonel Harrison.

HUGH HARRISON. H

The trial, with its many incidents, was freely discussed.
Ralph Bouldin, taking but little interest, seemingly,
in the general conversation, devoted his time and at
tention to Evelyn. She, however, since the murder of
Charles Stuart, had formed a decided aversion to him.
Her mind had been dwelling upon the incidents of the*
last evening she saw Charles Stuart at her home in
company with him ; and there came up into her mind
continually the strange, abstracted look of Ralph
Bouldin that evening when he bid her good-bye. She,
however, banished suspicion, as far as she was able,
from her~mind, and kept her thoughts to herself. The
possibility that she might be wronging him made her
more responsive to his attention.
In a short time the general conversation drifted from
the events of the day to an animated discussion of
spiritualism, in which Evelyn and Ralph took part.
Many remarkable and inexplicable things were related,
some of which, in a seemingly logical manner, were
accounted for by Tucker, in attributing them to the
agency of magnetic or mesmeric power. This, how
ever, answered one question by asking another, and
left the inquirer still in search of truth.
Tucker, in illustrating his theory, referred to quite
a number of facts that came under his own observation
and to others that were a part of his own experience,
and, in the course of the discussion, manifested such
a thorough acquaintance with mesmerism in particu
lar, that Evelyn very pointedly inquired :
" Mr. Tucker, did you ever mesmerize any one your
self?" "Yes, Miss Harrison, I have — but rather for the

12 HUGH HARRISON.

amusement of friends than with a view to any serious
investigation of the subject."
"Well, then," said Evelyn, "for our amusement,
will you try your power over me ? ' '
"Yes, I will, if you will give me your full consent."
"Oh, I will try to sleep, and imagine myself mes
merized, whether I am or not," smilingly replied
Evelyn. Tucker placed himself in front of Evelyn. There
was complete silence in the room. Then, after the
manner of mesmerists, he fixed his eyes upon those of
Evelyn and stretching out his hands towards her fore
head, began to pass them repeatedly down her face,
shoulders and arms. These in a few moments began
to move convulsively ; her eyelids drooped as though
weighted down, and in a little while she passed into
what seemed a deep slumber, but soon awakened, sat
upright in her chair, and began to talk volubly upon
various subjects, including the trial that had just ended.
Tucker then asked her what she saw. Evelyn said :
" I see a light blazing from the ends of your fingers,
and something like a halo around your head." Then
stopping abruptly and turning a blank, fixed gaze upon
Ralph Bouldin, she slowly raised her arm until her hand
pointed at his breast, and said : "I see my watch that
Charles Stuart had."
Ralph Bouldin gave a hollow laugh, to hide his con
fusion. Every other one was struck dumb by the ter
rible words.
Tucker immediately busied himself to restore Evelyn
to consciousness, which was quickly done by means of
transverse motions of his hands.
The company began to talk in pairs — trying to ap-

HUGH HARRISON. 13

pear unaffected by what had occurred. But Ralph
Bouldin could not long remain where the very air
seemed ladened with suspicion of him. He excused
himself to Colonel Harrison and Evelyn, and left that
house never to enter it again.
Evelyn, after the departure of Ralph, was adroitly
questioned in regard to what had occurred, when it
was discovered that she had no knowledge or recol
lection of anything she said or did while in a hypno
tized state. So the evening ended.
In the morning the town was full of talk about what
had occurred at Colonel Harrison's home. It came to
the ears of the prosecutor. He talked with the gen
tlemen who were present ; but no grounds sufficient
for the arrest of Ralph Bouldin appeared. A search-
warrant at that hour would certainly have been fruit
less ; so nothing was done. Yet Ralph Bouldin walked
the streets of the village with the brand of Cain in his
forehead. This he could not long endure, so he soon
toot his way into the far West, from which country
came tidings of a reckless, dissipated life.

CHAPTER HI.

Tucker remained a short time in the village, and
was a frequent visitor at the home of Evelyn, where
it soon became apparent, to himself, at least, that he
was being brought under the influence of a more
dominant force than mesmerism. Nor was Evelyn

14 HUGH HARRISON.

wholly unaffected by the pleasant intercourse of the
few weeks during which they had known each other.
But this period of love-making— often observed by
all, experienced by nearly all, and many times by not
a few fortunate or unfortunate ones — let us pass it by
lightly. There is nothing new to be said ; no strange
scenes to be depicted. Still it seems the burning
centre of almost every human life.
But as we pass, to help us to an understanding of
much that follows, we will linger— just to hear them
say "Good-bye."
Tucker had arranged to leave upon the stage which
started at 12 o'clock M., in order to reach the railway
station in time for passengers to take the night train.
Delaying as long after breakfast as the shortness of his
time and the urgency of his purpose would permit, he
found Evelyn expecting this morning call. It was
daylight, and the sun was climbing ; but the glare of
this unpropitious hour was half relieved by the deep
shadow of the maples that almost made a twilight of
the day.
The conversation at first was too general and remote
to be of much interest to either party. At last, stirred
by the sense of fleeting moments, Tucker asked :
"Does your stage, Miss Evelyn, leave promptly at
12 o'clock? "
"I really don't know. I am seldom in town just at
that hour ; and we generally go in our own conveyance
to the station," replied Evelyn.
" Well," said Tucker, " I suppose it is best to be on
time." "Would it be any great disappointment to you,"
asked Evelyn, " to be left behind ? "

HUGH HARRISON. 15

"Certainly none, if I could continue to spend my
time as pleasantly as I have ; but then my good peo
ple will wonder what is keeping me out here in the
country. I have written up everything of general in
terest here for the paper, and still I linger. But soon
I will be jolting over the road, with my face turned
to the city. I always liked the country — I was born
in it; and the country girls," continued Tucker,
smilingly, "I like them best."
' ' Don't you tell the city girls the same thing ? ' ' asked
Evelyn. ' ' No, Miss Evelyn ; I visit but little in the city, and
now I will visit less. ' '
' ' Do you think you are growing more unsociable ? ' '
asked Evelyn.
" No ; I am beginning to feel more sociably inclined
toward some people, and I believe that my sympathies,
and I may say my affections, heretofore distributed, are
now being concentrated."
"Well, you know," said Evelyn, "our statesmen
say that everything now has a centralizing tendency,
and you may be feeling the influence of the spirit of
the day in matters of the heart."
" But in the latter domain, ' ' remarked Tucker, ' ' you
often meet with opposing forces that cannot be re
sisted." Evelyn sat silent. Tucker looked out of the window
and said :
' ' You have such a beautiful country here, Miss
Evelyn, and I do not feel like telling it good-bye. I
wonder if I should come back whether I would find
everything the same, or not."
" Everything changes here but little," said Evelyn.

16 HUGH HARRISON.

' ' Still, we sometimes change, and we think it is the
world." "Someday — after I have made my fortune — I in
tend to live in the country. Don't you think that
would be best for a country boy, Miss Evelyn ? ' '
"If your city girl will agree to it," said Evelyn,
smilingly. ' ' But I am going to ask a country girl ; so that dif
ficulty, at least, will not arise," replied Tucker. "And
when I have gotten a home for her, I hope she will be
willing to sacrifice herself, even for me."
' ' You would consider it a sacrifice ? ' ' asked Evelyn.
' ' Yes ; with most women even an exchange entails
a sacrifice, ' ' answered Tucker, rising to his feet at the
same time with his watch in his hand, and adding :
' ' I have but fifteen minutes ; so, good-bye, Miss
Evelyn, till I come back."
"Good-bye," said Evelyn, as their hands clasped,
" when you come back you will find our country just
as beautiful as it is now."
Tucker loved Evelyn Harrison, but his future was
so uncertain that, poor as he was, he thought it wrong
to seek an engagement even if Evelyn were willing.
She was much younger than he was, and better offers
were no doubt before her, but if Evelyn loved him she
would wait. The engagement was already made.
Thus he reasoned. So the matter was left as such
matters ought never to be left. Men often imagine
they are chivalrous with women when they are cruel
and senseless.
Tucker hurried away to the town, and during the
few moments left him gathered some roses in the yard
of the hotel, and enclosing them in an envelope sent

HUGH HARRISON. 17

them by a messenger to Evelyn. There was nothing'
within but the flowers. He knew Evelyn would know
whence they came and what they meant.
Tucker had no stage companion, so he was left to
his own musings. The sudden reaction after weeks of
pleasant intercourse with friends came, but with it also
the purpose and determination to soon make something
out of life. There was now an object set before him
that seemed worth striving for, and that w ould be the
starting point of a new life. Resolutions as to renewed
application and greater frugality were formed, and ere
the station was reached he had amassed a fortune and
builded in the air a home for a bride.

CHAPTER IV.

One day not many months after the departure of
Tucker, Ralph Bouldin got out of the stage in the
little village, and bloated and blear-eyed, staggered
along its streets to his home.
The respectable villagers avoided him as a leper, but
he soon made for himself a circle of friends ; some
drawn to him by sympathy and others by the hope of
sharing without cost in the drinking pleasures of his
frequent entertainments.
At times he met Evelyn on the street, and though
she avoided him, he always sought to draw her into
conversation, and to walk with her.
On one occasion she alighted from her carriage in

18 HUGH HARRISON.

front of a merchant's store. The door of the carriage
was opened by Hugh, who stood near. She entered
the building, and, having made her purchases, was
returning to the carriage when Ralph Bouldin, more
drunken and wild-eyed than usual, arrested her passage
by placing himself in front of her. Then, when she
sought to pass around him, he took hold of her and
began drawing her to himself while she resisted. Too
weak, to release herself or defeat the purpose of her
drunken assailant, she called for help — "Hugh!"
"Hugh!" It was the work of a moment. Hugh snatched the
breast yoke from a mower standing for exhibition on
the porch of the store-building, and at a single blow
felled Ralph Bouldin to the earth. He then assisted
Evelyn into the carriage and it was driven away.
Ralph Bouldin was taken up by his friends, and in
an insensible condition carried to his home. Hugh
was arrested by a constable, who was present and saw
the blow given, and was committed to jail to await the
result of Ralph Bouldin' s injuries.
Hugh sent for Carrington, and asked him to defend
him at his trial, and gave him in detail the circum
stances of the striking as they have been related.
After a few days Ralph Bouldin began to rally, and
though his condition was still critical, his physician
was confident of his ultimate recovery. Thereupon,
Carrington arranged with the Commonwealth's Attor
ney that a preliminary examination should be had
before a Justice with a view to the release on bail of
the prisoner. A day was fixed, the witnesses were
summoned and appeared, and the examination began.
Soon it became evident to Carrington that there was

HUGH HARRISON. ig

considerable feeling against his client on the part of a
certain class. The witnesses, who were principally
friends of Bouldin, seemed to desire to make their
evidence as strong as possible against the defendant,
and in the course of the examination it was sought to
be shown that bad feeling existed between Hugh and
Ralph Bouldin, growing out of a refusal on the part of
the former to carry messages to Miss Evelyn Harrison,
which led to a quarrel, and that consequently Hugh
was impelled to the deed in great measure by a spirit
of revenge ; but nothing definite on this point was
elicited. Hugh was sent on for indictment and trial to the
next term of the Circuit Court. His bail was fixed by
the Justice, and Colonel Harrison becoming his surety,
he was released.
Hugh now took up again his old work, and began
the daily round of the apartments he served.
Carrington had determined, the first opportunity"
that offered, to inquire into the anterior causes, if there
were any, which led to the assault on Ralph Bouldin.
So, when early in the morning Hugh entered his room,
Carrington asked him if he had any particular reason
or motive in striking Ralph Bouldin.
Hugh replied : "I did it to protect Miss Evelyn. I
didn't know what he was going to do, and Miss Evelyn
was struggling with him and calling me. ' '
"Yes," said Carrington, " but was there anything
back of that day that made you strike him so hard ?
You remember what they attempted at the examina
tion?" "No," replied Hugh, "I never had any difficulty
with Ralph Bouldin. I never liked him ; but I had

20 HUGH HARRISON.

no feeling against him. I was actuated by a feeling,
not towards him, but I do not suppose it would have
anything to do with my case. As a slave, I was
attached to the Harrison family. I belonged to them.
I felt the same interest in everything at the old home
that a child of the family would have felt. I am free
now, but that attachment continues. I still feel an
interest in every member of the family, and all their
belongings. They are still my people. You have
never belonged to anyone, and you do not know how
strange and strong the attachment becomes. I know
not from what it springs. The dog is not a man, but
he has a love beyond that of the human being. It is
not the crust that he feeds upon, nor the door-mat he
sleeps upon that creates that affection. It is something
higher and deeper than any feeling that springs from
a thought of self. The treatment of the master does
not seem to affect it. It may be at times suppressed,
but a crisis of danger or suffering always calls it forth,
and the fact that we now are free makes but little dif
ference. For Miss Evelyn that attachment is even
greater than for the other members of the family. We
were children together. Her mother died and my
mother nursed her. We grew up together as children,
playing about the old homestead. She was always
kind to me. Her wish became a command. Nothing
was too difficult for me to attempt ; no work too hard,
if only it was for her. She is a white-souled woman,
and when Ralph Bouldin put his lecherous hands upon
her, and she called to me, my blood took fire, and I
cared not what I did in defending her."
The time for the meeting of the court came. A
grand jury was empanneled, and Hugh Harrison was

HUGH HARRISON. 21

indicted for an "assault with intent to kill" upon
Ralph Bouldin.
By arrangement with the Commonwealth's Attorney,
Carrington had a day fixed during the term of the
court for the trial of the case, and to that day the wit
nesses were subpoenaed.
Considerable interest was manifested by the people.
Hugh Harrison had made for himself many friends of
both races ; while the social position of Ralph Bouldin
and his convivial habits had given him many friends,
who were desirous to see the extreme penalty of the
law meted out to Hugh Harrison.
After the empanneling of the j ury and a statement
of the case by the Commonwealth and the defense, the
witnesses were called, and upon the stand gave in
detail the facts and circumstances related before.
Among the witnesses called for the defense, Colonel
Harrison testified to the relation Hugh had borne to
his family, and to his good character, and Miss Evelyn
Harrison to the fact that she had called upon Hugh
to defend her from Ralph Bouldin' s insulting conduct.
The taking of the testimony occupied the forenoon
of the day, and the afternoon was set apart for the
argument. The Attorney for the Commonwealth attempted to
show by the evidence an assault on the part of the
prisoner far beyond the necessities of the case, and
that he was actuated by malice, the result of previous
ill-feeling. To this view of the testimony Carrington replied,
and as the best means of giving the reader an under
standing of the influences that were at work, and the
facts and circumstances that had an influence in deter-

22 HUGH HARRISON.

mining the verdict returned by the jury, I transcribe
here the latter part of the argument for the prisoner
by Carrington :
"Now, gentlemen, dismissing that part of the case
having relation to the evidence, for there is but little
variance in the testimony, and as to the facts proven
the jury can have no doubt, I ask your attention to
the legal principles involved, and to what I may term
the social aspects of the case.
"As an individual, in a state of nature, man pos
sessed in himself the three-fold powers of government —
to make a law, to judge of its infraction, and to execute
the penalty. Becoming a member of society organized,
he released to the State these natural rights, and the
State became bound to extend protection to the life,
liberty, and property of all its citizens.
' ' But there often arises an exigency and a peril
when there is no time for the State to exercise its
power and perform its duty. To await the slow move
ment of the State machinery is to peril property or
court death. At such a time the individual takes back
the released rights, and with his own arm protects his
life, his liberty, and his property, even to the point of
slaying the assailant. And the law says he is guilt
less. ' ' This is the grand old doctrine of self-defense, a
precious heritage.
"But there is something dearer than life. It is
woman's chastity. Laicretia, the Roman matron,
dying by her own hand at the feet of her husband, said
that no immodest woman should plead her example to
outlive her dishonor. There is no home where there
is no chastity ; and home is the foundation of society

HUGH HARRISON. 23

and the State, the rallying cry of the soldier battling
for liberty.
"To woman, therefore, in defense of her chastity,
the doctrine of self-defense extends, and justifies her
in slaying the assailant of her virtue.
' ' When does the assault begin ? If the defense of
the body is involved, the law says that even a threat
ening gesture is an assault. In the court of conscience
the assault upon female honor begins with the lustful
eye. Of what magnitude and how grievous, then, the
assault when a pure woman is forcibly taken, with a
purpose to her unknown, into the lecherous arms of a
drunken wretch? Will anyone deny that Evelyn
Harrison, under these circumstances, if no other means
of escape offered, had the right even to slay her assail
ant? ' ' Granting this, then, had the prisoner here the same
right? Does the law justify him ?
' ' This principle or right of self-defense extends to
and becomes a duty on the part of those occupying all
the common civil aud domestic relations. The law jus
tifies the parent in all necessary acts in defense of the
family — and any member, in acts done to protect the
others. So, also, is the master justified, when acting
in defense of the servant, and the servant in defense
of the master.
"Under the system of slavery, as it existed among
us, the slave was something more than a servant, in
the sense of the law. The institution was patriarchal
and domestic. The slave was born in the house and
reared with the family. On the part of the master
there was parental care. On the part of the slave a
filial affection. The influence of that relation was not

24 HUGH HARRISON.

destroyed, nor all the ties of affection sundered, by the
proclamation of freedom. With many it wrought no
change. ' ' The prisoner was born in the house of Colonel Har
rison. He grew up with the children of the household.
Between the prisoner, and that beautiful girl, who but
a few moments ago left that witness-stand, there was
a still closer relation. Evelyn Harrison and Hugh
Harrison were suckled at the same breasts ; and how
the orphan girl prized the motherly care and attention
of this boy's mother was evidenced by that scene, wit
nessed by some of you at the dead mother's grave — a
scene of unutterable tenderness and sadness.
"From that girl, struggling in the arms of a bloated
debauchee, came the cry for help to this boy. What
did he do? What else, in obedience to the dictates of
human sympathy and the requirements of law, could
he have done than strike Ralph Bouldin to the earth ? ' '
The jury answered this question in the only way it
seemed possible, by bringing in a verdict of ' ' Not
guilty."

CHAPTER V.

Hugh, after his acquittal, continued his morning
visits to the office of Mr. Carrington, of whom he often
sought information in regard to the many questions he
found discussed in the papers, which he regularly read.
On one occasion he asked a large question that de
manded a large answer. Said Hugh :

HUGH HARRISON. 25

' ' I see the papers are filled with a discussion of the
negro question. What do you think is best for the
negroes ? What ought they to do ? "
"Well, Hugh," replied Carrington, "that is a very
difficult question, and it has to* be settled by those who
did not raise it — the negroes themselves and the white
people of the South. I have thought a great deal
about it, as every one has, and have a very decided
opinion as to what is best.
' ' There are certain facts of history which lead up to
and created the question, which should always be kept
in mind.
' ' The whole country was responsible for slavery.
The negro race was brought to this country and sold
into slavery, in good measure, by that section of the
country which afterwards, in great part, brought about
its freedom. Slave labor in the North became, to a de
gree, unprofitable. Slaves were sold to traders, and
journeyed Southward, where, in time, the vast ma
jority of them were found in a more congenial climate
and home, and where their labor was more profitable —
in the cotton- fields and on tobacco and sugar planta
tions. ' ' The people of the South, therefore, were responsi
ble only in part for negro enslavement.
' ' The war came. To the better class of statesmen
and patriots of the North, and to the Southern people
almost as a unit, it was a struggle between opposing
theories of government ; but to the Abolition party of
the North and its many adherents it was a war against
slavery and a crusade for negro freedom. The influ
ence of the latter became dominant, and drove that
great and good man who presided over the destinies of

26 HUGH HARRISON.

the nation to an act illegal in its character, unwar
ranted by the Constitution, and unjustified by military
or political necessity. A consciousness of the illegality
of the act and fear of the result is disclosed by the very
words of the proclamation that made the slaves free
men. "The South, therefore, was in no degree, whatever
blame or glory may attach, responsible for sudden
emancipation. Every citizen is now glad that slavery
is abolished, but its sudden taking off was a wrong
both to master and slave, and is now in connection
with the legislation that necessarily followed, the cause
of the suffering and anxiety which afflicts both blacks
and whites."
' ' Do you believe, then, ' ' inquired Hugh, ' ' that
emancipation should have been gradual ? ' '
' ' I doubt, ' ' replied Carrington, ' ' whether under
the circumstances it would have been possible. But I
do not object so much to sudden emancipation as to
sudden enfranchisement. ' '
' ' An immigrant comes to this country, and although
he may be a citizen of a most enlightened State, still
he is not at once admitted to the voting and office-
holding privileges of the native adult. A period of
probation, as it were, intervenes between his declara
tion of intention to become a citizen of the United
States and his adoption under the law. These laws
of naturalization, no doubt, will become more strin
gent, especially with regard to the nationality and
character of the immigrant, as the evils of the present
system become more manifest. But no period of pro
bation, no season of tutelage was enjoined for the negro
before admission to the full rights and privileges of the

HUGH HARRISON. 27

white voter. True, he was born here, but he had led
the life of a slave, and had no part as a citizen in the
government of the country. Transported at once from
the field of slave labor to the hall of legislation, is it
any wonder that with the promptings of unscrupulous
and depraved whites he bankrupted States and made
the days of reconstruction the darkest and most dis
graceful period in the history of the country ?
"By this terrible experiment the question was
raised : Does this Southland belong to the white man
or to the black, to the former master or to the former
slave ? Shall intelligence, wealth, and refinement rule,
or ignorance, poverty, and debasement ? The line was
drawn, the war of races began. What will the end be
if not arrested ?
' ' Every effort on the part of the Republican party
to fortify the blacks in their position and privileges
will only serve to broaden the lines of separation, to
create animosities, and prepare the way for the shed
ding of blood. A spark, even now, may kindle a con
flagration that will forever settle the negro problem.
' ' Neither the white people of the South nor the
negroes are responsible for this condition of affairs.
The hostile antagonism must, necessarily, continue,
and in all probability grow worse, unless some peace
ful mode of settlement is found. A concession is ne
cessary. From what color must it come ? ' '
Carrington began to warm to his subject. He did
not know what influence this intelligent and cultivated
young negro might some day have in directing the
course of his people in the South. He looked on the
present moment, therefore, as a fit time to impress
upon Hugh, in answer to his own inquiry, what he

28 HUGH HARRISON.

considered the correct view of the whole question.
He knew further that Hugh was in possession of
many facts absolutely necessary to a proper view of
the subject, of which many so-called friends of the
negro were ignorant or ignored ; facts that set them
selves in stubborn opposition to a hollow sentiment.
So Carrington proceeded :
' ' A man is very little in and of himself. He is this
or that because of his ancestry, because of the race to
which he and they belong. Every principle of civil
and religious liberty we so glibly repeat and possess
has become property by inheritance, and in the centu
ries past was burnt out of crude ore in the hot fire of
battle or martyrdom.
' ' Now, as to this inheritance, all men, be they heirs,
are God's stewards. They hold these principles — the
foundation stones of their civilization— in trust for
those that are to come after. Shall they imperil them ?
Shall they voluntarily pass these precious heirlooms
for keeping into the hands of those who have bartered
no blood for them, who have no racial appreciation of
their priceless value ? Yet this is what the present ill-
advised legislation, backed by a powerful sentiment in
the North, demands. And if the avowed purpose is
carried out, in some States it would strip the whites of
their freedom and place them at the mercy of an igno
rant and irresponsible race. Opposition on the part of
the whites to these efforts does not go to show hatred
or hostility to the negro. Every black man knows that
the best friend he has in time of trouble and suffering is
the white man of the South, his former master. And
this kindly sympathy will continue to exist if only bitter
antagonism is not induced by those from without.

HUGH HARRISON. 29

" Concession, then, in great measure, considering
the present legislation, must come from the black race.
' ' In order to prepare the way for, and to determine
the character of the concessions, in each State where
the blacks and whites bear such a relation to each other
in numbers as to make a speedy settlement of the ques
tion imperative, I would have the chief executive
officer call together a convention, to be composed of
the most intelligent and conservative of both races,
one or more from each county, and selected in any way
that would bring about the desired result.
"To this convention let all plans of settlement be
submitted and considered by it. Let everything be
done in the full spirit of concession and compromise,
recognizing the fact that the object of the convention
is. a just settlement of a question which sooner or later
will be aggravated by bloody collisions and placed
beyond the possibility of peaceful solution.
"I am inclined to believe that some compromise
would be reached by which the blacks would in effect
concede the home government to the whites, with the
full understanding and pledge that in all elections to
fill Federal offices their whole vote should be honestly
received and honestly counted. This would prevent
collisions and contests over State questions, and do
away with all pretext for Federal interference. ' '
' ' It seems to me, ' ' said Hugh, ' ' you would have
the whites only concede what they are now bound
to do."
"That is true," replied Carrington ; " but it is now
charged, and probably true, that in some States the
full strength of the negro vote, by evasions of the law
and other means, is prevented from having its full

30 HUGH HARRISON.

effect. Those who bring about this result plead, as
the authors of emancipation, a "political necessity;"
and the methods pursued are no more objectionable
than the gerrymandering of States, or the unseating
of members by a dominant party in the National
House of Representatives, often without warrant of
law or facts."
"But do you suppose," asked Hugh, "the negro
race will consent to this partial disfranchisement ? ' '
"What they would concede," replied Carrington,
"now exists as a fact. The State control is now in
the hands of the whites ; but I would have it looked
upon as a conceded fact, so that heated contests for it
as a prize, with probably bloody collisions would be
avoided. It would be no great sacrifice for the negro
race to leave the home government where it is, nor
would it imperil its safety. The land of the State be
longs to the white race. Its wealth, its intelligence is
possessed by it. Ninety per cent, of the taxes, at least,
are paid by the whites, and the negroes, as a further
ance, might be released altogether from the payment
of State taxes. Nearly the whole expense of the gov
ernment, including the education of the negro, is now
borne by the white race.
It would be no hardship. If the State of South Car
olina to-day had the Constitution of Massachusetts, re
quiring as a prerequisite to voting, the ability to read
the Constitution in the English language, it would in
reality disfranchise one-half of the negro-voting popu
lation. If the same State had the Constitution of
Rhode Island, requiring a property qualification of
$134.00, the effect would be the same.

HUGH HARRISON. 31

As the negro was put in possession of rights, he is
incapable of exercising with safety to the State, it
should not be considered a sacrifice on his part to re
linquish some of those rights until he becomes better
educated, and acquires a j uster appreciation of the du
ties of a citizen."
"Do you think," asked Hugh, "that such a settle
ment would receive the endorsement of Northern sen
timent?" "I am satisfied it would," replied Carrington, "the
Republicans of the North, as a party, only care for the
vote of the negro in Federal elections. The Demo
cratic party would endorse any peaceful solution upon
which the two races could agree. ' '
"What do you think," asked Hugh, "of the other
propositions that are made ?"
"I have seen no plan suggested," replied Carring
ton, "that seemed to me feasible. We cannot send
them to Africa or any other foreign country. We cannot
place them upon reservations as Indians and in time
make new States of their territory. We cannot distrib
ute them through the other States. Insuperable diffi
culties in all these propositions suggest themselves to
the mind of every one, even if it were a fact that the
negro race would be willing to forsake its present
home." Thus for the time the conversation ended, with the
expressed purpose however, on- the part of Hugh, of
pursuing it further.

32 HUGH HARRISON.

CHAPTER VI.
The life of Evelyn now began to change. The ex
uberant joyousness of girlhood had passed, and the
more staid deportment of a woman's life became her's.
She was not altogether pleased at the manner of the
parting between Tucker and herself. She believed
that he loved her. She felt that she had a deep affec
tion for him, but the expression of both was repressed.
She believed that he was an honest man and that some
day he would return to claim her as his own, but this
uncertainty magnified by the absence of any real ties
binding them together was unpleasant, and seemed to
make her future depend on the someday realization of
a love that was now shadowy and incomplete. Her
mind could not be at rest. "Should another lover
come to me out of the shadow with his heart and his
life, and should I, wearied by the long days, sick with
deferred hope, and possibly moved to revenge, give to
him mine in return, would it be well for me and the
absent one?"
Such thoughts as these caused an undertone of sad
ness to weave itself into the song of Evelyn's life.
There was a spectre in the Harrison home ; brought
into it by the mother of Evelyn — the taint of insanity.
The grandmother of Mrs. Harrison had spent some
part of her life in the Asylum, and here and there,
though in a mild form, mental disorder had manifested
itself throughout the different branches of the family.
A great deal of human misery, and suffering, mental
and physical, had been injected into the short life of
Evelyn. She had never had the care and attention of
her own mother. Her oldest brother, all too young

HUGH HARRISON. 33

for battle, had gone home "through the grave
"To God a soldier and a brave."
She had stood by the grave of her foster mother. She
had seen Charles Stuart to-day in laughing health — on
the morrow a mangled corpse. She had seen Ralph
Bouldin go out from her- presence with the brand of
Cain in his forehead.
Therefore when Colonel Harrison saw a shadow
like quietness settling upon Evelyn, he could not cast
the horrible fear from his mind that his daughter might
lose her reason.
He determined upon a change of scenes and sur
roundings. The day for departure was fixed, and Ev
elyn, her father and brother were to spend an unlimi
ted time in the Eastern cities, in hope that the con
stant diversion would restore the hue of health to Ev
elyn's cheek and open again in her heart the fountain
of joy and laughter.
Evelyn at first quietly remonstrated against the pro
posed journey, but soon gave her full consent, and
even longed for the hour of starting to arrive. The
day came, and the party was soon upon the road on
their way to the station ; Hugh going along as driver
to return with the carriage.
Evelyn took an unusual amount of interest in all
that transpired ; seemingly _ enjoying the beautiful
scenery and all the bustle of life that was about her.
On the train she was ever alive to all the incidents of
travel, and was interested in her fellow- passengers,
who, as the train rolled on, came and went.
Tucker, still possessed with the foolish idea of
leaving Evelyn free, had been derelict in correspond-

34 HUGH HARRISON.

dence, and for some weeks before her departure she
had received no letter from him. This course on the
part of Tucker no doubt had added to the deep melan
choly of Evelyn. She told her brother, in answer to
an inquiry, that she had not written anything to him
about their proposed trip. He said that as Mr. Tucker
was well acquainted with the city, if he had known
they would be there he might have added much to the
pleasure of their visit.
"Well," replied Evelyn "we may meet him by
accident if we are long in the city."
It would have given Evelyn great pleasure to have
met him and told him that his half-hearted mode of
correspondence had precluded the possibility of his
being informed of their visit.
Arriving at the city and visiting its public buildings,
its parks, its theatres, its churches, its museums of art
and natural history, Evelyn seemed to look rather at
the faces of the crowding people about her than at the
objects of interest upon which her father and brother
were descanting and to which they constantly called
her attention. She always wearied of the public
rooms and longed to be upon the crowded thorough
fares. It soon became apparent to her father, that with
a kind of desperation, kindled by mental disorder, she
was looking for one face among the thousands that-
daily crossed her path. Disappointment and melan
choly came upon her with the shadow of each night,
but the morning came to fan again to brightness the
flickering flame of hope.
In a short time it became evident to Colonel Harrison
that his daughter was not growing stronger or more
cheerful as he had hoped from a change of scene and

HUGH HARRISON. 35

occupation, so they determined to seek again the quiet
of their home and trust to simpler diversions and em
ployments for the cure of a mind diseased. The jour
ney homeward, with Evelyn unimproved, was a sad
one to father and brother.
It is not to be supposed that Evelyn did not at in
tervals appear happy and cheerful, for she was at all
times struggling to dissipate the shadow that was en
veloping her, and often to repay her for the effort sun
beams would dart through the rifts in the clouds.
However, a great crisis in her condition was evidently
approaching. Her form was wasting away, and her
beautiful eyes began to glare from their sockets as
though struck with perpetual astonishment.
Not long after her return home, during the stillness
of a chill night in the early spring, the sound of a foot
step and the rustling of a skirt was heard upon the
stairway by Colonel Harrison, who was lying awake
brooding over the sad condition of his daughter. He
hastily arose, and taking with him a lighted lamp pro
ceeded in the direction of the noise. There was nothing
upon the stairway, but the parlor door was open. He
entered, and there sitting upon a sofa was Evelyn, pale
as a corpse, with eyes wide open and fixed. Dressed
in her night clothes she looked like some inhabitant of
the spirit world. She did not notice or turn her head
towards her father as he softly entered, but remained
seated and seemed to be looking at some imaginary
person seated in a chair in front of her. Her father
approached her and softly calling her name sought to
arouse her, hut she heeded him not. Finally he took hold
of her hand and with little effort led her away to her
room, where being put to bed she soon slept soundly.

36 HUGH HARRISON.

The father considering somnambulism an evidence
of increased mental disorder, kept the occurence to
himself. Upon another night, not long after, in which the
moon shone bright as day, Evelyn's brother was
standing at the window of his room watching the
dashing spray of the river as it flashed in the moon
light, when he discovered someone walking on its
banks, now hidden in the thick bushes and again
appearing in the open ground, and often stooping as
though gathering. flowers. He immediatly went below,
awakened his father, and together they proceeded to
the spot. There was Evelyn in her night clothes,
barefooted. She had the same fixed stare which so
curdled the blood of her father when he found her
seated in the parlor. It was with some difficulty they
prevailed upon her to return to the house. For a time
they wandered with her upon the bank, the rushing
river at their side, the sparkling dew upon the grass,
and the stars over them. At last she suffered herself
to be led to the house and being put to bed, soon, as
before, fell into a deep slumber.
The father and brother now kept a close watch upon
her, fearing that she might do herself some injury, or
that harm would overtake her. Dividing the hours
they stood sentinel over the suffering girl. Often they
would find her gliding softly from her room, when they
would interpose and by gentle and yielding treatment
prevail upon her to return, lie down and sleep.
Colonel Harrison now determined to write to the
Medical Superintendent of the Insane Asylum, who
was a classmate of his in college days, to induce him
to visit him and determine the best course to be pur-

HUGH HARRISON. 37

sued with reference to Evelyn. The Superintendent,
yielding to the earnest request of his old friend, soon
arrived at the home of Colonel Harrison, ostensibly
that he might renew the memories of their college life.
During the course of this visit the Doctor frequently
conversed with Evelyn, to determine, if possible, the
cause and extent of her mental derangement, but
Evelyn grew suspicious of the Doctor and quietly
avoided being left alone with him. He saw her during
her seasons of deep despondency, but bearing up
bravely under the crushing weight a brighter hour
would return to her, when nothing in her conduct or
conversation disclosed a mental malady. The Doctor
expressed the hope that she would soon recover, but
advised her removal to the Asylum at the first evidence
of decided mania.
The father and brother were soon worn out by their
constant watchings, but were reluctant to seek the aid
of friends or relations for fear of exciting the suspi
cion or aversion of Evelyn. So, as often in emergen
cies before, Hugh's services were engaged, and it
became his duty to watch — unobserved by Evelyn — in
the hall, and upon her getting up, to awaken her
brother. On one occasion, however, Evelyn so noiselessly
passed from her door and so swiftly glided down the
hall and stairway, that before the brother could be
aroused she was gone. Hugh was told to hurry after
her and protect her from danger, while the brother and
father were to follow. Evelyn walked rapidly from the
house toward the river. A moment upon the bank she
stood with face and palms toward the stars, and sud
denly the dark current receives and hides her fragile

38 HUGH HARRISON.

form. Quickly into the river plunges Hugh after her,
and when in a few moments she came to the surface
further down the stream, he struggled hard after her
with the cruel current, and as she was sinking again,
caught her gown, and with great difficulty dragged her
to the bank. At this moment the father and brother
reached the river and took up from the waters edge the
almost lifeless form of Evelyn. She was soon restored
to consciousness and was carried dripping with water
to her room.
Shortly after being placed in bed and recovering from
the stupor of drowning, the awful realization of her
condition, seemingly for the first time struck Evelyn.
No doubt she had been aroused into full conciousness
by the chill waters, and knew all that had occurred.
Piteous were her moanings, heart-rending her shrieks,
like a helpless victim in a burning flame, while she
sought to escape from the on-coming demon of insanity.
Bravely for many months had she struggled and kept
alive the flickering flame of reason, but now, it gone
out in darkness, horror and confusion overwhelmed her,
while 'terrors, vague like reptiles crept through the
ruined brain and crumbling heart.'
However unpleasant and sorrowful the step was, no
alternative now remained but to convey Evelyn to the
Asylum, and place her under the care of the physician
who sympathized so deeply with his friend in this
terrible affliction.
It was but a day's journey to the Asylum, and
thither the father, assisted by his son, removed Evelyn.
A room had been prepared for her, and the once bright
and joyous Evelyn entered it and the door was closed.

HUGH HARRISON. 39

CHAPTER VII.
What was Tucker doing during these terrible days
of human suffering ? He did not bear to Evelyn any
relation that made it proper for Colonel Harrison to
acquaint him with her condition, and Evelyn herself
in her correspondence betrayed not by a word the ap
proach of the awful crisis. But Tucker was not idle
or indifferent. The sweet wild flower he left among
the mountains had cast a delightful perfume over his
life and endeavors. He had gone to work with a will
and an energy before unknown to him. There was
something to struggle for. I,ife now had in it a deeper
meaning. He was longing for the hour when it would
be in his power to return and pluck from the parent
stem that wild flower he believed was waiting for him.
Still there was enough of uncertainty attaching to
hasten and stimulate effort.
Success came at last, and Tucker now saw a future
that justified him in seeking Evelyn's hand. He had
not replied to her last letter which was written but a
few days before the awful occurrence just related, in
tending to answer it in person, and thus give her what
he hoped would be a pleasant surprise. Ah ! how
little does the quiet current tell of the cataract ahead.
Scarcely a week after the door of a mad-house had
been closed upon Evelyn, Tucker boarded the train in
New York with a bright eager face and a heart full of
love. The iron horse could not pass too swiftly over
the intervening distance separating him from the
object of his desire. Not two years before he had
gone over the same way with life's objects to him un
certain, shadowy ; now it had all changed — everything

40 HUGH HARRISON.

made a different impression, possessed a new charm.
A night, a day, and the careless voice of a brakeman
rings out the station that brings Tucker to his feet
with a beating heart. Over the jolting road in the so
ciable stage a brisk drive, and the panting horses at
sundown stand before the country inn, resting by turns
their tired limbs, while the passengers and baggage are
being deposited. The loungers Tucker left were still
at their old places, but they did not recognize in the
stranger who got out of the stage, the correspondent
who sometime before had spent a short time in their
little town.
Supper over, under the cover of the deepening twi
light Tucker turns his steps towards the dearest spot
on earth to him. Into the shadow of the dark maples
he passes. The house is before him, but there is a
strange stillness about it. The sound of his own step
alone strikes his ear. He stops — he looks up — there
is no light in the parlor, nor in Evelyn's room.
Colonel Harrison's apartment alone, by its lighted
window, tells that there is life within. A foreboding
fear seizes him and makes him irresolute. Could
Evelyn be absent on a visit to her friends? Even
death was possible.
Tucker, perplexed, and not having been observed by
any one, determined to return to the hotel and find out
whether or not Evelyn was absent. The walk was a
short one and he could easily return.
The porch of the hotel had its usual number of
evening loungers. One sat apart, and of him he sought
information. Asking some questions first about the
town and its inhabitants Tucker finally inquired if
Colonel Harrison was still living there.

HUGH HARRISON. 41

"Yes sir, not far from here, in the skirts of the
town." " Is he at home ? ' ' asked Tucker.
"Yes sir."
" Is his family at home ? "
"His son is with him but his daughter is not,"
slowly replied the informant.
' ' Where is she now ? ' ' ventured Tucker in a seem
ingly indifferent manner.
' ' A little more than a week ago she was taken to
the Asylum — crazy," — carelessly dropped the words
like clods on a coffin.
Tucker staggered away in mental agony, but soon
calming himself, returned to find out what the reader
knows. And when he further inquired as to the cause
of her insanity — said the man :
" I do not know. I heard that some of her relatives
had been affected in the same way ; and some said it
was a love affair. She tried to drown herself in her
sleep, and they thought they had better put her in the
Asylum." Out into the street strode Tucker and up and down
the ways of the little town he walked heedlessly until
the lights went out in the shops, when he sought his
room to await in agony the morning. The longest,
darkest night will pass and the morning come, caring
not whether it bring sorrow or joy.
Tucker had determined to go directly to the Asylum
and know at once the worst. If his own thoughtless con
duct and seeming neglect had in any degree hastened
Evelyn's present condition, he proposed, by every means
possible, to make amendment. Perhaps he would be
allowed to visit Evelyn. Perhaps enough of reason

42 HUGH HARRISON.

remained to hear the story of his love and of his con
stancy. Back again over the same road to the same station,
yesterday with bright dreams and high hope, to-day
with the dark shadow of sorrow and despair enveloping
him, Tucker journeyed. Perhaps upon yesterday as
he looked out from the car window upon the
walls of the Asylum he heard her cry but heeded it
not, while the cruel wheels whirled him away from the
sound. To-day, again, the rushing train brings him to
the same point. He alights, and going to a hotel to
brush away the dust of travel, in a few minutes he
seeks the office of the Medical Superintendent of the
Asylum. He found him alone, introduced himself and
inquires :
" Doctor, have you a patient here by the name of
Miss Evelyn Harrison ?"
' ' Yes sir, ' ' replied the Doctor, ' ' a very sad case. ' '
' ' I know the family well and her particularly, and
if it is not improper I would like very much to see
her ' ' said Tucker.
" I would like to gratify you, Mr. Tucker" replied
the Doctor, ' ' but I fear it would not be advisable at
this time. She has been growing something worse
since her entry and the crisis of her mental disorder
may be approaching. ' '
" Might not the sight of an old acquaintance — one
whom she has 'not seen for some time — be of service
to her ? ' ' argued Tucker.
" It is possible," replied the Doctor, " but I think a
little hazardous."
"What was the cause of her present condition?"
asked Tucker.

HUGH HARRISON. 43

"Well, there were an accumulation of causes. I
suppose there is some hereditary disposition towards
mental derangement, and during the last few months
she has passed through a period of great excitement
and suffering. An old negro to whom she was much
attached died. An intimate friend of hers was mur
dered. She, herself, was insulted on the street by a
drunken man, who was knocked down in her presence.
All of these things and many others, no doubt, have
had a cumulative effect upon her. She is very des
pondent and does not seem to have any special mania.
She carries with her an envelope of pressed flowers,
but her conversation does not betray any very special
attachment to them or the cause of it. There does
not seem to be any reason why, with quiet and proper
treatment, she may not recover."
" I do not wish to trouble you Doctor, or to see Miss
Evelyn without your full consent, ' ' said Tucker, ear
nestly, ' ' but I wish you to know the relation in which
Miss Evelyn and I stand to each other, so that you
will be better able to determine whether I shall see her
or not. I gave Miss Evelyn that envelope of flowers
more than a year ago. It was a simple evidence of my
affection. I did not tell her I loved her. She knew it.
We made no engagement. In my circumstances I con
sidered it a wrong to her. It might have been better
to have done otherwise. It occasioned, no doubt, a
feeling of unrest, of uncertainty. Her continuous
possession of the flowers shows she has not forgotten
me. I have not seen her since the day I sent them. I
have not written to her as often as I should have done,
desiring to leave her free. Her letters gave me no hint
of her condition. I have just returned from her home

44 HUGH HARRISON.

where I expected to tell her my love and seek her
hand. I found she was in a mad-house. My course
towards her may have had nothing to do with her de
rangement, but still in her madness I wish to prove to
her my affection and my constancy. Even as a maniac
I love her better than the world, and I want to tell her
so. She may have reason left — I know she has — suf
ficient to forgive me for seeming neglect."
Such earnest pleading moved the gray haired phy
sician in an unwonted manner. He sat silent a few
moments looking out of the window, and finally said :
' ' We will go together to her room, Mr. Tucker, and "
and if she seems to be in an unexcited condition, we
will quietly enter, and so demean ourselves as to pro
duce no shock."
They walked together down the long hall to the ac
companiment of a stifled cry, a groan, a laugh and a
song from the different cells as they passed them till
Evelyn's room was reached. The Doctor knocked
gently at the door, and in answer to a voice from within,
turned the key and the two quietly entered. There
stood Evelyn, the fragile form, the haggard look, the
manaical stare. Turning full upon them she glanced
at Tucker as he stood waiting for recognition. Ah ! if
she should not know him ! At first it seemed the glare
of a tigress whose den has been invaded ; then it was
the face of one listening to far off music ; and now the
doubtful, flickering light of an old memory shines in
the eye, and trembles on the lips. All this time she
was shaking like a leaf. Soon the trembling ceased, and
stretching out her hand to Tucker, faintly said :
' ' Mr. Tucker, you have come back at last to see the
country. Has it changed much ? "

HUGH HARRISON. 45

' ' Miss Evelyn, ' ' said Tucker struggling to restrain
his emotion, ' ' I have come back, not to see the country,
but to tell you how much I love you."
Evelyn looked into his face a moment, then running
her hand into her bosom drew forth the envelope and
said, half smiling :
' ' I have kept your flowers, but they have withered. ' '
Then Tucker, drawing her gently to himself and
putting his mouth close to her ear as she held her head
down and face away from him, said softly :
" Evelyn, I love you. Will you forgive me? "
Evelyn turned her face towards him, then passed her
hand over her knit brows and burst into a flood of
tears. The Doctor, who had withdrawn behind the door,
hearingthe sobbing, pressed it open and came in, saying
in a cheery manner :
" Miss Evelyn, Mr. Tucker just got to town and has
not yet had his dinner. He has been traveling and I
know he must be hungry. As I am going home I will
take him with me, and if you will allow him he may
come again this evening."
At this, Mr. Tucker said :
" Miss Evelyn, may I come again this evening? "
"Yes, if the Doctor approves," replied Evelyn,
turning and smiling at the Doctor.
Tucker passed out into the corridor, while the Doctor
remained a few minutes with Evelyn to" note the effect
ofthe interview, and after awhile joined Tucker in the
office. Much to the relief of the latter, who was watching
his face, the Doctor entered with a pleasing smile, say
ing as he took his seat :

46 HUGH HARRISON.

"I am satisfied, Mr. Tucker, that your visit has
been no injury to Miss Evelyn, but on the contrary, a
benefit. She seems more rational and less despondent.
There is a time in many cases of mania, especially
where it is with reference to one subject, when if you
suddenly or violently arrest the morbid impulse and ten
dency ; throw the mind as it were, back upon itself,
you restore reason to her throne and she becomes again
the j udge and determiner of conduct. The individual at
such a time, in the twinkling of an eye sees things in
their proper light and true relations, and with an effort,
discards illusion and checks the morbid tendency. If;
at such a moment, when the mind is casting out its evil
spirits, you give to the patient a new impulse, a new
motive ; if you turn the whole life into a new channel,
provide a new field for mental and physical activity,
permanent recovery is almost certain. Allow me to
say, that with your assistance, we seem to be in a con
dition to do this."
' ' I am glad to hear you speak so hopefully, ' ' said
Tucker, "and I promise you, if you will make me a
partner in this case, to consider nothing I am called on
to do, a trouble or a sacrifice. At what hour can I see
her again ? ' '
' ' Well, ' ' replied the Doctor, ' ' return about an hour
before the sun goes down. I want you to take a short
walk with her in the open air upon the grounds."
So Tucker, declining the Doctor's invitation to go
home with him, took his leave and returned to the hotel.
The Medical Superintendent that evening wrote to
Colonel Harrison, informing him of the favorable
change in the condition of his daughter, and asking him
to come to the Asylum.

HUGH HARRISON. 47

Tucker at the appointed hour returns to the office.
In the meantime the Doctor had told Evelyn that he
wished her to go out and walk about the grounds of
the Asylum.
A rap upon Evelyn's door, and a quiet "come in,"
ushers into the room, the Doctor and Mr. Tucker.
They are invited to seats by Evelyn, who soon, by her
composed and reasonable deportment, manifests to both
the great improvement in her mental condition.
After a short conversation Tucker asks Miss Evelyn
if she would not walk with him. To which Evelyn
replies :
' The Doctor tells me he has taken you into partner
ship with him, and so, if you both think I need some
air and exercise, I will go."
They are soon on the green grass and under the
shade of the trees, where Tucker tells Evelyn what he
has been doing the past year and the great object he
had in view ; condemning himself, as he talked, for
what he protested was only apparent neglect and in
difference. Said he : " You did not doubt, Miss Evelyn, that I
loved you ? ' '
"I thought you did, but the days in the country are
so long, longer than in the city, and then nothing was
certain, but it has all passed now, ' ' said Evelyn, wiping
with her hand the cob-webs from her brain. "lama
little in the shadow yet. I have seen so much trouble.
But if you will only help me I will soon get away from
it into the sunlight."
' ' Oh yes, Miss Evelyn, you must forget all this that
is behind and think of the new life we will live to
gether. When, Evelyn, shall we begin it ? "

48 HUGH HARRISON.

" Do you remember" said Evelyn " who it is that
says ' when the song goes out of your life you can t
start another while it 's a ringing in your ears, but it 's
best to have a bit of silence and out o' that may be a
psalm '11 come bye and bye ' ? "
"That is pretty, Miss Evelyn, I do not know who
said it, but if you will pitch the psalm I will join in,
and I hope the singing will never end ! ' '
" Now Doctor," said Miss Evelyn to Tucker " don't
you think it is high time for your patient to. be in
doors ? ' '
With this she got up from the rustic bench under
the shadow of the trees and together they slowly
walked back to the building and entered the office,
where the Doctor was waiting.
The conversation there was pleasant and cheerful;
Evelyn taking part in her former spirit of badinage,
and only at rare intervals disclosing the shadow of
despondency from which she was escaping.
Tucker in a little while, leaving Evelyn in the Doc
tor's care, bade them good evening.
When Tucker was gone, Evelyn says: "Doctor,
I am afraid your partner does not consult with you as
he should. He inclines to independent treatment, and
now prescribes a course which you may not approve.
In short he wants me to marry him, and that right
away. Don't you think, for a junior partner, he is
assuming too much ? ' '
' ' And you want to punish him a little, do you, Miss
Evelyn ? ' ' said the Doctor, laughing.
" No. He needs it, — but what do you think of it ?"
"Well, Miss Evelyn, I am thinking about sending
you off on a trip soon, and it would be a good plan to

HUGH HARRISON. 49

have him go along. Say, in about two weeks. ' '
Ah! I could not think of it," said Evelyn, "you
say, two weeks ; he says, now ! So I will compromise
with you and put it off two months."
"Miss Evelyn," said the Doctor, as she arose to
leave, ' ' your father will be here to-morrow evening on
the train and I want you to be in the office to receive
him. Ellen (referring to her nurse) will let you know
when the train comes in, and then I am going to take
you with him over to my home, where you must stay
until you determine to take that trip. You can have
Ellen go with you if you wish."
"You are very kind," says Evelyn, "when father
comes we will know."
She then passed out. Ellen met her in the hall and
together they went to Evelyn's room.
Tucker made his morning visit, and in the evening
at the hour for the arrival of the train Evelyn was in
the office, ready to meet her father. The Doctor con
tinued to fill up the few minutes they were waiting, so
as not to give Evelyn much time for thought.
Her father came, and as the Doctor opened the door
he said, shaking the hand of his friend as he turned
him towards his daughter, " Miss Evelyn has been
getting a little beyond me so I sent for you, thinking
she needed a little paternal control."
Ah ! there are times when words are such poor
things — so silence is better while mouth close upon
mouth, cheek hard against cheek, and throbbing heart
against heart, the souls speak with each other.
Evelyn bore up well under the trying circumstances,
and in a few minutes the three, talking pleasantly,
were on their way to the home of the Doctor.

50 HUGH HARRISON.

On the morrow it was arranged that Evelyn should
remain at the home of the Doctor until after she was
married, which it was determined should take place
within a month as Evelyn should appoint. It was
thought best that she should not return to her old home
until her restoration was fully assured. The winter
was to be spent by her with her husband in New York,
and the spring would find her at her old home, so full
of pleasant as well as sad memories to her.
During the interval of recuperation and preparation
she made many pleasant acquaintances in the town.
As to herself, the bloom came back into her cheeks ;
the lashes lifted by the staring balls, fell again to
soften the depths of her brown eyes, and the cheery
laugh of former days returned to tell of a glad heart.
Her whole life was now changed, and each moment.
came laden with a new joy.
The nuptial day at last arrived. A quiet marriage
was had, and Evelyn and her husband were soon upon
the train speeding to. their new home in the great city.

CHAPTER VIII.

The result of a plunge into the cold river was not
favorable to the health of Hugh. Owing to the hurry
and excitement attending the sad occurrence, he made
no speedy change of clothing. A chill and a cold fol
lowed, ending in a bad, stubborn cough. Still he went
about his work, bearing up under the terrible blow that
had fallen upon his former master's family, and feeling
the same degree of sorrow as if he were still a part of
it. The light of the old homestead to him, no less

HUGH HARRISON. Ql

than to others, had gone out in worse than darkness.
Carrington believing that Hugh would some day be
a representative man of his race, continued at intervals
to impress upon him the necessity of agreement and
peace between the whites and blacks. And that while
the former should do every thing possible to increase
the intelligence of the negro and his capacity for self-
government under the laws in existence, still the negro
should accept in good part the limitation placed upon
his action by a higher power than civil laws, and await
the slow but sure process of time to bring about its
changes. Hugh was a willing listener, and at times felt the
stirrings of an ambition to do great things for his peo
ple, and to make something noble out of his own life,
in following the suggestions and advice of a man,
whom he knew to be competent to advise, and an
honest friend.
On a certain occasion, not long after the conversation
detailed in a former chapter, Hugh, following up the
subject, asked Carrington this question : "Supposing,
now, that such a settlement as you suggested some time
ago, should be effected, and that the great danger of a
race conflict should be avoided, what future has the
black man in this country ? ' '
To which Carrington replied :
' ' The final outcome of what began with emancipa
tion can only be conjectured. My hope is, that Provi
dence has some special work for the negro race to do,
and that the theatre of that work is elsewhere than in
America. If you take the salient facts in the history of the
African slave in this country, you will discover the

52 HUGH HARRISON.

same hand that controlled the destinies of the people
of Israel.
It was a great mercy and blessing, though a crime,
to the naked African savage, to take him from
the jungles of his own country, and make him a slave
in America. One hundred years of America as a slave
were worth ten centuries of Africa as a savage. He
could not live here as a free man. Had it have been
possible, still as a slave, his improvement was more
rapid and best assured. He passed into the homes of a
people possessing a civilization, truer, deeper and
higher than any to which the world had ever attained.
He became the companion of men who filled the world
with the fame of their deeds. He heard them talk,
preach, pray. He saw them laugh, weep, die. With
his wide open savage eye he took in the wonders of a
new world, and with his imitative nature, learned its
language and assumed its manners.
Then, when he had learned all he could learn as a
slave, with the suddeness of a thunderbolt out of heaven
comes emancipation. The fetters fall. What is lack
ing ? He must be educated. He must be trained as a
citizen, by those who held him in bondage. He must
share in the work of education, government, religion,
that he may learn to stand upon his own feet. Racial
instinct and antipathy must be strengthened. Color
and race predjudice must be deepened to prevent amal
gamation. Thus far have we lived — what next ?
While all this was going on, our slave's home has
been getting ready for a future. Its night has been
pierced with light. Can it be that some day she will
stretch out her hands for her captives ? God knows. ' '

HUGH HARRISON. 53

" But, suppose the negro race," asks Hugh, " does
flot want to leave America. However praiseworthy it
may seem for the negro to undertake the civilization of
his former home, I imagine the work would not be gen
erally considered a pleasant one. Beyond color, the
negro has nothing more in common with his cousins in
Africa than the whites. I do not think the missionary
spirit of the black man would carry him very far in that
direction. There might be an impulsive, sentimental
movement that would carry some colonies there, but
the majority of negroes are going to remain in this
country. Why, look at the number that have houses
and plats of ground of their own. The local attract
ions are growing stronger every year. No race will
leave a country willingly, where they enjoy as much
freedom and as many of the benefits of civilization as
the negroes do in this country. Nothing but taking
their rights from them and subjecting them to down
right continuous persecution will bring about such a
result. Now, if this is true, and they do remain here,
what do you think will become of them as a people ? "
"Well," replied Carrington, " if sufficient time is
given, I have no doubt it will ultimately result in an
amalgamation of the black and white races.
Heretofore, in the history of the world, when an in
ferior and superior race lived together, the normal con
dition of the former was slavery, but now, in this
country they are equal before the law, having the
same advantages, objects and pursuits. When this
is the case time alone is necessary to break down all
barriers. At this day in the more northern of the old slave
States, that portion of the negro race which is denote

54 HUGH HARRISON.

inated, " pure African " is in the minority. The ad
mixture has been illegitimate and a wrong to both
races, but none the less effective in result. Now as
the negro becomes more wealthy and more cultivated,
as he rises in the social and business scale — in short,
comes to have within himself and his family, everything
that the average white citizen possesses, save a pure
white lineage, and I may say a good measure of that,
a few white men, possibly, from foreign countries or
other sections of this country than the South, where
racial antipathy may not be as great, will be lured by
the hope of wealth or other considerations, to form
marital alliances with his race. Each successive gen
eration of the descendents of these parents of different
races will bear less of the lineaments and physical
characteristics of the negro, until the burning sunbeam
is altogether blotted from their faces, and none but those
who have kept genealogical records can tell whether
centuries before one of their ancestors was a negro or
not. In a land where there is an equality of right and
opportunity, nothing can prevent the absorption, in
time, of five millions of one race by the forty millions
of the other."
' ' I would think the absorption would be very
gradual, ' ' said Hugh, ' ' for now throughout the whole
southern country, I care not how white a negro may be
or what his wealth or other recommendations may be,
he cannot marry a white woman of any respectability,
nor can he secure that social recognition which would
in time lead to marriage. ' '
"That is true," said Carrington, "the absorption
will not even begin until approximate equality in in-

HUGH HARRISON. 55

tellectual, social, and religious culture is generally
established. The line can only be crossed, in the ma
jority of cases, when there is nothing to be gained or
lost but color. ' '
' ' Is there any good reason, ' ' asked Hugh, ' ' founded
injustice and truth, why color alone should be a bar
to social recognition ? I know that these things must
regulate themselves, and that, so long as I live the
negro and every one who has negro blood in him will
continue to be what he is now. Still I would like to
know if there is any sufficient reason for it. ' '
' ' Social recognition, ' ' replied Carrington, ' ' leads in
evitably to intermarriage. If the latter would be
avoided the former must be denied.
Every individual has the inherent right to associate
with any person he pleases, provided it is not objection
able to that one. Every society has the right likewise
to admit or cast out any one it pleases. So also a race
has the right to adhere to its racial antipathies or pre
judices, and from a judgment in any case there is no
appeal. There are some of these where no real and
substantial cause can be shown for their existence, that
are gotten rid of by increased knowledge or the oblit
erating effect of time. But while the sentiment or
prejudice exists in its strength, it is the part of wisdom
in both parties to respect it.
This right I have spoken of depends upon the duty
of the individual and the race to seek the highest and
truest development. This can never be attained by a
superior race mixing its blood with that of an inferior
race. Color meets color half way. So do all the
mental and physical qualities. While the lower race
is elevated the superior race is debased."

56 HUGH HARRISON.

" But may it not be " asked Hugh, "that the negro
race has certain mental and physical qualities that
would be a gain to the white race, and more than com
pensate it for any loss it may sustain ? ' '
"It is always a question of gain or loss" replied
Carrington. "In the case of certain families, where
there is not much to lose, it is possible that a positive
gain would be the result of inter-marriage with the
negro, but taking the race as a whole, I cannot but be
lieve that the experiment would be disastrous. The
judicious crossings of breeds and individuals, on the
part of stock-men, often produce wonderful results, but
only -physical perfection is sought after ; while the
greater part of man is mind and spirit — in quality, diffi
cult to gauge ; in quantity, hard to determine.
It has taken many centuries to make the white race
inhabiting this country what it is to-day. The accre
tion of a generation is but little. .
In so far as amalgamation has occurred, the indica
tions point to a deterioration of physical qualities and
health, and no mental gain. It is impossible to pre
dict what the final outcome would be, although where
the difference in numbers between the white and black
race is so great as it is in this country, it is probable
that not only the color, but the mental and physical
characteristics of the latter would be lost sight of in
continuous amalgamation."

CHAPTER IX.

Winter had gone by with its ice and snow, and June
had come again with its roses.

HUGH HARRISON. 57

Evelyn longed to be out of the city, away from its
hot walls and glaring pavements, that she might breathe
again the fresh mountain air of her country home.
Tucker had looked forward to this visit with great
concern. He feared that Evelyn, in reviving the memo
ries of her home life, might cause her spirit to return
to its former state of hopeless despondency. But she
had only bright expectations of a joyful meeting with
her many friends, and of a heart full of pleasure in re
visiting the scenes of her child life. Upon that year
of suffering, that cast such a dark shadow for awhile
on a life that else had been so bright and joyous, her
mind did not often dwell. She had that dim, half-
conscious feeling — like those strange beings of a double
consciousness or personality — that the Evelyn who went
to meet death in the dark current, and for awhile lived
among the tombs, was some other than herself. The
suffering had become a dream, and the memory of it
the shadow of a dream.
So Tucker and his wife, each with different feelings,
turned their faces southward, to the home where Evelyn
was born, while each kept in the darkness whatever
unbidden thoughts tended to make the journey less
joyful. When the last station, before passing the Asylum
was reached, Tucker, who was sitting in the same seat
with his wife, asked her to allow him to sit near the
window for a few minutes. He wished her to pass the
dreaded spot without seeing it, but Evelyn, divining
his reason, laughed at him, and while, for an instant,
he felt a tinge of something akin to shame for his dis
trust, he was more than pleased at Evelyn's confidence,
for he knew it argued strength.

58 HUGH HARRISON.

How strange it is that faith should constitute so
great a part of every human action — should be so great
a support of every human condition ! The dividing
line between sanity and insanity is so narrow. The
partition walls that .separate all states and worlds are
so thin and insubstantial, there is no need for a bare
bodkin. A filming eye can pierce it. Even a conscious
thought can often sweep them away, and we become
what we were not. Only a child's faith keeps us to
the end. We are swimmers on a sea of mystery, and
with faith we can pass over ripple or wave, if only we
do not start at a thought of the abysses.
Tucker felt that Evelyn was right, so he was not
much startled, when a few moments afterwards, she,
pointing to a large tree, in the grounds of the Asylum,
said in pleasant badinage : ' ' There, under that tree,
I once heard you make some extravagant promises,
which you have not altogether kept. ' '
This point of danger happily passed, not many hours
of travel bring them to the home station where they
are met with the carriage by Evelyn's brother.
Every hill-top, every stream, every grassy plain, and
shaded wood now is known to Evelyn, and associated
with scenes in her life. Of all these she talks to her
husband with a childish glee. A woman without a
child's heart should be shunned.
Says Evelyn : ' ' This little stream we are crossing
now comes out of the hill only a short way up there —
a cold, bubbling spring. I have waded in its water
often. I feel the smooth pebbles under my bare feet
now. It is just a home for ferns, and the Phcebe bird
always has its nest there, in the cleft of the rock.
Do you see that tall poplar with a dead top ? Just

HUGH HARRISON. 59

on this side of it there is a bed of the largest and bluest
violets I ever saw. I went there every spring to catch
the first one that came out of the ground. I am afraid
they are all gone now — and just a little further over,
at the head of this hollow, you see that clump of white
thorns, sitting like hay shocks upon the ground ; there
is a thrush— -a brown thrasher — that has built its nest
in them for years — I know not how long — and I re
member passing between two of them when I was a
child, and I saw the thrush fly from her nest, so I
looked through the leaves and the thorns into it, and
oh ! how 1 was startled and thrilled as the little yellow
mouths of the fledglings opened wide at me.
This steep, grassy hill-side, you see over here, I have
rolled down it when I was a child from top to bottom,
and you may know how drunk it made me.
In that meadow, there one day I found a young lark.
I was so glad to get it into my little hand, though I
was half afraid of it ; and from some cause — possibly I
held it too fast, children's fingers clasp so tightly — or it
may have been injured by the harvesters, it trembled in
my hand, gasped and died. I then for the first time
had that strange hopeless feeling. It was dead.
Nothing could bring it back to life. My knowledge of
world-sorrow began there."
Thus she talked and lived over her child life, while
the carriage slowly wound on the yellow clay road, up
to the top of the hill, and there in a grove of beautiful
sugar maples stood the home of Evelyn. She stretched
out both her hands toward it as if she would take it in
her arms and then became silent. The cup had filled
up and was running over. In a moment though, as
the carriage turned in at the gate and she saw her father

60 HUGH HARRISON.

sitting upon the tall pillared porch, she brushed away
the tears, and smiling, turned to her husband and said :
"I am going to take you to all these places I have
been showing you, that I loved as a child, and then
you will know the largest part of my life. There ! I
hear Wee Winkie, my dog, barking, and yonder (peer
ing through the branches as she spoke) I see old Bidda,
my dear old cat. ' '
The wheels whirled the gravel from the carriage way
on to the margin of green sward. The dark, shadow of
the maples came down and took them in its cool arms.
The hanging festoons of the Virginia creeper that
covered the outer pillars of the porch, in the light
breeze, swayed a welcome to Evelyn and she was at
home. In that cool, roomy porch, in a large easy chair, the
center of the group she sat, with Wee Winkie and
Bidda lying together in peace upon her lap.
A bright sun had risen upon the Harrison home.
The light of the house had returned. You could see
it shining in the faces of all. A wider life and new
liberties came, even to the cat and dog. These accom
panied Evelyn and her husband in all their ramblings
over the grassy hills that had so often been pressed by
her young feet, and through the dark woods that had
so often cooled her heated brow.
But, from among the many to welcome Evelyn back
and to be cheered by her presence, one among the ser
vants was missing.

HUGH HARRISON. 61

CHAPTER X.
A crisis had been fully reached in the life of Hugh
Harrison. When he considered himself, he found a man a con
necting link between two races, the product, not of
legitimate union, but of criminal and illegitimate com
merce ; a man inheriting the intellectual qualities and
social instincts of a superior race, with the taint of
color and subordinate position of an inferior race ; a
man, the son of a master and a slave.
For none of these things did he feel responsible.
His body, his intellect, his color, even his aspirations
and his hopes all came to him without his seeking.
Put upon him ; fastened upon him ; irresistibly, inex
orably. But the life that came must be lived out somewhere,
and in some activity. Two courses lay before him.
Either he must go to some country or section of country
where he may aspire to, and secure all the legal and
social rights and privileges of men no better than him
self ; to a land where there is no race line nor color line,
or he must remain in the home where he was born, and
accept, as nearly the whole negro race does, without
complaint, social separation from the whites, and look
forward to a life-work among his people, and for them.
To the first course, as it necessitated leaving his
home and friends, he was not inclined. As to the so
cial recognition he might obtain anywhere in this
country, he was well aware that it would only be ac
corded by those who knew but little of the negro, and
had but small appreciation of his wants. He knew

62 HUGH HARRISON.

that apart from sentiment and theory, he was likely to
receive more substantial- benefit from the former mas
ters than from those who would accord him a social
recognition cheap, and not much to be desired.
As to a foreign country, that was not to be thought
of. So he determined to lay aside, as far as he was able,
all the desires and inclinations that his white blood
specially superinduced ; to identify himself with the
negro race, and find his mission in an effort to benefit
and elevate them.
As a means of accomplishing this high object, he
determined, acting upon the suggestion of Carrington,
to adopt law as a profession. This, at least, would
give him a more authoritative position in the estima
tion of his people. So he began its study.
The books that he required he obtained from Car
rington, who also gave him such explanation and in
struction as was necessary in his undertaking. Before
the spring opened, he had gone over the usual course of
reading, and was looking forward to attending lectures
in some institution where he could gain admittance.
Having obtained his degree, it was his intention to
settle in some part of the South, where the negro popu
lation was great, and their wealth of some consequence,
and there enter upon the practice of his profession. He
hoped thus in time to acquire a position that would
give him the confidence of his own race, and the respect
of the white people, and that would enable him in
some measure to prevent collisions, and promote friend
liness and good feeling between the races.
As he progressed in his study, and the definite aim
of his life came more and more into view, he felt him-

HUGH HARRISON. 63

self stirred by a generous enthusiasm. Gradually the
despondency of his old life, with its vain desires and
hopeless imaginings left him. The sacrifice of these
appeared as an act of consecration setting him apart
to a great work.
In his dreams he beheld himself a God-commissioned
Moses, leading his people through the wilderness over
hot sands, by bitter waters, to a fair Canaan. Again,
as a mediator between the races, bearing in his body
the nature and blood of each, identifying himself with
the lower, that he might raise it on high.
And again, in his waking dreams, he plead for his
people :
" We are in this land, not by any act of ours. I/ike
Joseph, we have been sold info it as slaves. We are
now freemen, but not by insurrection. Our liberty and
all our rights have been given to us. As slaves, we
were patient, obedient, faithful. Even in the dark
hour of conflict, when our own liberty was at stake,
there were no midnight massacres in your homes, but
we protected your wives and children, and fed them
with our labor, and in many instances, nursed your
men returning to their homes covered with the wounds
of battle.
We remember, that as slaves, your treatment of us
was kind ; that cruelty was an exception, and unkind
ness rare. We want that kindness and good-feeling
still to continue, though we are freemen.
We want no conflict with the white people. We
know what must be the result of such a conflict. We
are few and weak. You are many and strong. Enmity
between the races once kindled and rampant, will never
be extinguished until this fair land becomes our grave.

64 HUGH HARRISON.

We know that the land is yours ; that the wealth is
yours ; that the intelligence is yours. We recognize
the fact that your race is superior to ours. You have a
history full of triumph and glory. We have been first
savages, then slaves, now poor, uneducated, helpless.
But we have a future — who can tell how full of triumph
and glory! And we want you to help us to it. Upon
you, in great measure, must we rely for the weapons
with which to conquer our destiny. You must educate
us ; christianize us. We want no mixed churches, no
mixed schools. We want no amalgamation of races.
We know that these things will provoke collision, and
that then the weakest must suffer most. We want no
special privileges ; neither do we want any special dis
franchisement or hardship put upon us. We want to
occupy to the white race just that position which is best
for us and our development as a race.
We need your assistance and you need ours. Your
cotton and cane fields demand our labor. Your man
ufactories and mines will in time demand our muscle
for development.
Put upon us nothing that will debase us or make us
ashamed of our manhood ; but treat us, though our
skins are black, like brethren on the great, broad field
of humanity."
I have said there were two courses open for Hugh to
follow. There was a third, and at times it seemed the
most to be desired. This was death. Here was free
dom from heartache, freedom from care and toil.
Hugh's constitution had never been strong, and the
severity of the winter had so aggravated his cough,
that the wet and changeable Spring found him too
weak to resist its inclemency. He was forced to give

HUGH HARRISON. 65

up his accustomed work, and finally was confined to
his room and his bed.
One day, shortly after Evelyn came home, she asked
Mr. Tucker if he would not like to spend the day in
the woods at the rocky spring of which she had told
him. Tucker knew that his wife would enjoy it, so
cheerfully consented.
As soon as the dew was gone from the grass, a
luncheon having been prepared, they started. Tucker
carried a book and a hammock, not trusting much to
the softness of the rocks which his wife had described
as being covered with rugs and pillows of moss.
Out through the yard, into the orchard, by a well
trodden path, shaking off, as they passed along, the
bloom from the tall timothy that arched their way,
and catching it upon their shoes ; up the hill-side,
winding along the edge of the dark wood, now and
then -scaring a speckled thrush from among the straw
berries where he was taking his morning meal, or
startling a rabbit from its nest in the tall weeds ; into
the woods a short way and the bubbling spring is
reached. After taking a draught of the cool water, and listen
ing to some of Evelyn's reminiscences, Tucker busies
himself hanging the hammock, while Evelyn darts like
the wood brown satyrus, here and there, plucking
flower after flower, fern after fern, with mammoth leaf
and creeping vine to make a bower for herself among
the moss-covered rocks. Tucker watches her from his
hammock as the work proceeds, now and then making
a suggestion which is as often answered by a side
glance from his wife that he well understands.
After these preparations are made, and Evelyn, like

HUGH HARRISON.

a queen upon her throne, seats herself in her bower
for a rest and a long talk, Tucker assuming the woe
begone face of a starving man, wants to know of his
wife if it is not near luncheon time.
The repast ended, Tucker betakes himself again to
the hammock, and asks Evelyn to read aloud from the
book which, until now, he had forgotten. But it was
not long before the soft voice of his wife, mingled with
the hum of insect, song of bird and lapsing water lulled
him to sleep. Vowing that he was awake, and listen
ing, he slept until Evelyn stopped reading, that, un
disturbed, he might sleep on. Closing the book softly,
she watched him for a moment as he drifted further away
into dreamland, then getting up aud taking the basket,
she passed out of the wood into the open field, now cov
ered by shadow from the slanting sun, and began to fill
her basket with the luscious strawberries she had seen in
the morning. The small basket was soon nearly filled,
robbing the birds of many a dainty morsel, when she
returned to the hammock and found her lord still
sleeping. As the best means of awakening him, she
pressed a strawberry into his half open lips, and he
was fully aroused.
The heat of the day was now gone, and in the cool
shadow of the dense wood they returned.
Evelyn now had the strawberries prepared, and she
and her husband, with a servant girl bearing a waiter
upon which were the berries with cream in a bowl of
ice, walked over to the town, in the long twilight of
the mountains, to carry them to the sick bed of Hugh.
Into the town and down a cross street they passed
a short distance until they stopped in front of a door
opening into a little room where Hngh Harrison lay

HUGH HARRISON. 67

fighting a losing battle with death. His room ad
joined the house of his married sister, who waited
upon him and nursed him.
The servant girl went into the room, rested the
waiter for a moment on the edge of the bed, until she
uncovered it, and told Hugh that ' 'Miss Evelyn' ' had sent
them to him. The sick man gazed upon the crimson
berries, and asked if Miss Evelyn was there. On being
told that she was, Hugh sent a request for her to come
in. Evelyn entered. At the first sight of Hugh, she
started. Him she had known as a man strong and
robust, now lay before her a skeleton ; the eyes sunken,
the thin nostrils expanded with the difficulty of breath
ing, and the pallid skin drawn tightly over the sharp
cheek bones and large white teeth.
She took hold of the hand with its skeleton fingers,
that, lifted upon the elbow, was extended toward her.
She thought of Ralph Bouldin, and the chill water
of the river, and said :
"I thought, Hugh, you would relish these wild
strawberries. How are you feeling to-day?"
With a flush of excitement and great effort Hugh
replied :
"I thank you for them. You are kind. But I —
am dying. They told me— you — were there — and — I —
wanted to — see you — ' '
The tongue stood still in the parched mouth ; the
eyelids fell ; a gasp, and Hugh Harrison passed swiftly
but softly into a better country.
The End.

ANNALS OF AUGUSTA COUNTY, VIRGINIA, With Supplement-
By Jos. A. Waddem,.— 1888. 8vo. Cloth, $2 50.

LIFE AND CAMPAIGNS OF Maj. Gen. J. E. B. STUART, Com
mander of the Cavalry Corps, Army Northern Vir
ginia.— By H. B. McCleiaan, A. M., "Cate Major
and A. A. Gen'l and Chief of Staff of Cavalry
Corps, Army Northern Virginia. $3 00.

HISTORY OF ST. GEORGE'S PARISH IN THE COUNTY OF
SPOTSYLVANIA AND DIOCESE OF VIRGINIA.— By
Rev. Phixip Slaughter, D. D., late historio
grapher of the diocese. Edited by R. A. Brock,
with a biography and portrait of the author, aud
a continuation, embracing the history of St.
George's and Trinity churches to the present time,
also containing a list of Dr. Slaughter's publica
tions. — Richmond, Va., 1890. Paper, $2 00; bound;
$3 00 to $5 00.

THE WITCH OF JAMESTOWN, A Story of Colonial Days.— By
J. T. Bowyer. Paper, 50c.

VI

N H-IGESTUOOS • ALLIANCE.

A. C. HOUSTON

F"ri«i% »-l* ¦ ¦ . . . : * ... ....^oCente.

A PA.MPHEET DISOUSS'NG. THE INDUSTRIAL -
PROBLEM, POINT! VO OUT TH * FRID'T- "' '¦'<
EUE SOURCE OF MONOPOLY ANI>
THE PRESENT IrT*ifjii.-AJ.
. , " .;DISTRE;-.S, and SUGGEST-

R&HAJSbif." ELV. Ph. D , Associate Professor of Politi-
-cetl -Ecoj-omy, Johns- Hopkins University. Baltimore, Md,, -
write of it : -'I have read with much interest a*e essay
you sent me end aiu glad tsj-lcsm you inter, •! to publish it
ws a pamphlet. J. #iik,it, -wsJ* .u, mu:.h good in calhnjj
attention to one of trte rVu.'i" causes of political corruption
and social ,-Hm ,-:. baTi \. . "

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