George Washington Flowers 
 Memorial Collection 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 ESTABLISHED BY THE 
 FAMILY OF 
 COLONEL FLOWERS 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/southernstories01nash 
 
gains 
 
 A WILD BOAR CHASE. 
 
 FOR MEN AND BOYS. 
 
 By Chas. E. Nash, Xjtti/b Rock, Ark. 
 
 It will be reroembered by many now living 
 that after the close of the civil war all the planta- 
 tions in the Mississippi valley were grown up in 
 undergrowth, weeds and vines. That this un- 
 dergrowth had been the lair for the wolf, bear 
 and wild hogs. In the four years of their deser- 
 tion these wild and vicious animals had multi- 
 plied to an enormous extent, making it dangerous 
 for men and women to roam far from home or 
 hut. It is the last named animal, the "wild 
 
2 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 boar," that we shall make the subject of our nar- 
 rative. 
 
 In the fall of 1865 I returned to my deserted 
 plantation and found house and hedge occupied 
 by these denizens of the forest. We were without 
 meat of any kind, as bacon was worth four dol- 
 lars a pound and meal two dollars a bushel. Of 
 the latter we had about a bushel tied up in an old 
 sack, with some old knives and forks, and a tin 
 cup or two. But the woods were filled with wild 
 game, and the lakes were full of the finest fish 
 that swim in the fresh water deep. The buffalo 
 and cat in the rivers had had four years of quiet 
 peace — nothing but the roar of the Federal can- 
 non disturbed their peaceful repose. But this 
 did not prevent them from either multiplying or 
 growing. So you see, my reader, w T e were not 
 much in danger of starving for want of meat. 
 And this brings me in mind of a letter I saw pub- 
 lished in a New Orleans paper. 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 3 
 
 A farmer, being without supplies, wrote to 
 a commission merchant that he wished some sup- 
 plies to make a crop on in 1866. He was very 
 moderate in his order, but had nothing to secure 
 him for the outlay. The merchant wrote him in 
 reply that he could not send them without ample 
 security. To which letter the farmer replied in 
 the following words : "Go to hell, Mr. Merchant, 
 with your supplies. The woods is full of 'Sim- 
 mons, the vines is full of grapes, the 'possum is 
 fat and slick, the coon is as good as ever ; and we 
 can live on these till springtime comes. Then we 
 can live on blackberries till roasting ears come; 
 then on them till the corn gets hard, and the old 
 woman and boys can grind it on our old steel mill 
 the Yankees left in the yard, while I hunt and 
 fish. So you can go to hell with all you got, and 
 no thanks to you, neither." 
 
 Well, the fall of 1865 was peculiarly favor- 
 able to the returning refugees, for no frost fell 
 
4 A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 
 
 until the last of the month, and not a flake of 
 snow touched the earth that winter. It was cold 
 enough to keep the fresh meat from spoiling. We 
 got a little salt from a Memphis huntsman, who 
 had a camp in the dense cane thicket, enough to 
 save our meat. 
 
 At this time there was some young fellows 
 who had to flee their State for little misdemean- 
 ors they had done, in the way of killing a 
 nigger. These cane thickets afforded fine 
 hiding places for them. Well, one came to my 
 house in December. He had done nothing worse 
 than kill a nigger, who he said tried to kill him. 
 But the Yankee provo marshal got after him and 
 would have hung him if he had caught him. This 
 young man had served two years of the war in a 
 Tennessee regiment. His name I will omit, as 
 h© may be living at this writing — though he 
 would be twenty years my junior — but I will de- 
 scribe him. He was about six feet high, black 
 
A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 5 
 
 hair, fair complexion, weighed about 160 pounds, 
 very dark brown eyes, fierce as a wild cat's, act- 
 ive as an old razor-backed hog, that the farmers 
 used to say could jump a ten-rail fence and not 
 knock off the top rail. 
 
 In our retreat from Selma we brought with 
 us a dog that we had raised from a pup. This 
 proved to be a remarkable dog in many respects. 
 A.s our train moved along he would take his stand 
 on the head of the column, and every now and 
 then would trot back to the last wagon to see if 
 all was right. If any wagon had broken down, 
 which was frequently the case, he would remain 
 with it until it started again, then take his posi- 
 tion as above described. "Bose," as that was his 
 name, guarded the whole train at night, taking 
 very little sleep. If anything occurred to the 
 teams he would bark loud enough to wake up the 
 whole camp. Sometimes a mule would get en- 
 tangled in the harness that had been left upon 
 
6 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 Mm and fall, and would have hurt himself badly 
 had not Bose given the alarm. Harness was fre- 
 quently left on all the stock at night, as we did 
 not know what time the Federals would overtake 
 us and relieve us of them, and so have us to foot 
 it the rest of the way. We were not certain that 
 they would, nor were we certain they would not. 
 But we got through all right with Bose's help, 
 after a long and tedious journey of forty days, a 
 journey under other circumstances we could 
 have made in ten days. 
 
 Now we come back to the young man, the 
 dog and the wild boar. Bose in a little while 
 learned to trail the track of a wild hog, for there 
 were no tame ones to trail. In this he became 
 very expert, for he could take what the old hunt- 
 ers called a "cold trail." He never barked on the 
 trail, so gave no false alarms. When he had them 
 brought to bay he made the woods resound with 
 his music. There is a peculiarity about the wild 
 
A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 7 
 
 hog that belongs to no other animal. It is this : 
 He can never be tamed, though you put his eyes 
 out and confine him in a pen ever so long. He 
 will champ his teeth and foam at his mouth all 
 day long, and worry himself trying to get out un- 
 til he exhausts himself and refuses food or water 
 until he dies. Another peculiarity we might 
 mention is that they always keep in a straight 
 line, never letting anything obstruct their way. 
 If you get ahead of them on your horse, they will 
 make a whack at your horse's legs with their 
 long, sharp tusks. These tusks are curved and 
 sharp pointed. The keenest blade that has ever 
 been made by man can not cut a smoother and 
 deeper gash than can one of these wild boards 
 tusks. When he makes a thrust at you, or at an- 
 other animal, he throws his head to one side, 
 makes a strike, then turns the other side and 
 makes the same stroke, to be sure of his game. 
 
8 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 I have looked into the eyes of every vicious 
 animal, but never saw such fierce, sparkling eyes 
 as the wild hog has; no, not even the ubiquitous 
 rattlesnake. The snake carries more venom in 
 his fang, but makes a small puncture to inject 
 his venom, while the wild boar makes a wide 
 gash, and woe be to the artery that stands in its 
 way, for it will be severed, as if cut with a scal- 
 pel. 
 
 These animals feed on cane root and polk 
 root in the winter. These last grow up luxu- 
 riously in the old deserted fields. In many places 
 they dig so deep for the roots that they make 
 large caves in the earth, sufficiently deep to hide 
 themselves in when at work. The wild hog uses 
 the night for his work and rests and hides him- 
 self in the day. 
 
 Well, we will get back to the dog and the 
 hog. One frosty morning my neighbor's two 
 sons came down to take a hunt in the thick cane- 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys, 9 
 
 brake bordering on Flower Lake. They had tack- 
 led a flock of wild hogs with their hounds the 
 day before, but the hounds would beat a hasty 
 retreat whenever they came in sight of the hogs. 
 Knowing that we had had wonderful success 
 with Bose, they thought he would find his match 
 when he tackled the leader of the gang, which 
 was a wild boar about four years old, perfectly 
 white — his hair was as white as snow, not a black 
 hair upon him. He was the tallest and largest 
 hog I ever saw, but did not weigh heavy, as he 
 was gaunt and lean as all these wild boars are. 
 They are not fit for the table of modern civiliza- 
 tion, but better than no meat at all. Myself and 
 my trusty colored man accompanied them to the 
 field of battle. Bose took the trail about two 
 miles from where the herd was feeding. We were 
 all on horseback, and we would advise no one to 
 go on foot in one of these chases, as the wild boar 
 is very fierce; and if you wound him and do not 
 
10 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 kill hini, he will continue his course, and if yon 
 fall in his line he will cut you to pieces. Woe 
 unto the man who comes in contact with this 
 brave, ferocious animal. 
 
 Well, it was not long before we met the 
 hounds in their hasty retreat. But Bose stood 
 his ground, and opened his big mouth wide and 
 made the welkin ring. We came up on our horses 
 and found their leader with his back pressed 
 hard against a big oak tree. He was outside of 
 his fort. The cane was very thick and stubby, 
 so that he was well protected on both sides. Bose 
 was standing in front, at about ten feet, and 
 barking furiously. One of the young men was a 
 soldier in the Confederate army, and was the 
 best shot with a pistol I ever saw, for he could 
 shoot a snake's head off while running. I said 
 this young man was a soldier, but he wore no 
 honorable scars. One of his fellow soldiers told 
 me that he was never in a fight; that he was a 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 11 
 
 •cavalry man, and always turned his horse's head 
 to the rear and found a home in the forest, but 
 would join his command at a safe distance when 
 advancing or retreating. He also said the Yan- 
 kees had never seen the color of his uniform. 
 Well, this young man was in the advance, and 
 imprudently told Bose to "take him." Bose 
 rushed forward to seize him by the ears, and 
 when close enough the boar used his deadly 
 weapon on him, cutting his throat and the main 
 artery. The young man at this instant sent a 
 ball from his pistol into the brain of the boar. 
 My trusty man leaped from his horse, gathered 
 Bose in his arms, and brought him to me. I had 
 no surgical instruments with me, so had to resort 
 to the mother of invention. I seized the spouting 
 artery with my fingers and held it until the man 
 could tear a few threads from his coat with which 
 I tied the artery. I used the fingers for the for- 
 ceps, as they were made first, then I took from 
 
12 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys, 
 
 my pocket a silk handkerchief, a relic of the war, 
 and made a bandage of it. I returned to my 
 horse, and mounting him had "Jim," for that was 
 his name, to hand me up Bose. I took him home 
 and put him in a comfortable cabin near the 
 house. 
 
 Bose was so much exhausted by the loss of 
 blood that he could not stand. His throat was 
 badly swollen, and the inflammation ran high, 
 but by giving him war surgery he recovered and 
 was as willing and anxious to repeat the fight as 
 an old Confederate was to renew his attacks upon 
 his enemy. We know that many a wounded man 
 went into a fight and came out victorious. You 
 will see in the after part of this narrative that 
 Bose did also. He came out all right, having 
 learned more sense than to obey an order from 
 one who perhaps did not have a smart dog's 
 sense. 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Hen and Boys. 13 
 
 We now get back to the young refugee whose 
 personnel has been described. This young man 
 did not stay at my house long. He had many in- 
 fluential relatiyes and friends liying in the neigh- 
 borhood. Judge Austin Miller, of Tennessee, 
 owned a large plantation about fiye miles off. He 
 raised a large number of hogs and cattle, and 
 as the place was some distance from the Missis- 
 sippi river, and surrounded by a dense, heavy 
 canebrake, the Federals did not visit the place. 
 He left the negroes on the place to take care of 
 it, A large number of his cattle went wild, the 
 hogs particularly. This place, being almost hid 
 in the dense forest, afforded these refugees a safe 
 hiding place, and they could amuse themselves 
 hunting the wild hogs, and this was the most fas- 
 cinating sport at that time. Well, this young 
 man became an expert at killing wild hogs. He 
 managed to get a supply of ammunition — how I 
 do not know, but there is always a way where 
 
14 A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Beys. 
 
 there is a will. He killed a large number of hogs,, 
 and some of them they said were tame. A cane- 
 braker, who stayed at home during the war, said 
 he killed one of his best hogs, but he was afraid 
 to charge him with it, as life was too cheap in 
 those days. , 
 
 Well, to the young man again. Some time 
 in January, 1866, he came to my house to take 
 a hunt. He had heard that Bose had recovered 
 from his severe wound and was willing to take 
 his chances in another fight. So he stayed all 
 night and we started early the next morning,. 
 Jim accompanying us, for I never went without 
 him. We had three dogs with us — Bose, a bench- 
 legged "fice," and a half-hound. The last two 
 named were no good in a battle, but, like some 
 cowardly soldiers, were good at getting spoils. 
 
 We were all on horseback, and I was armed 
 with a double-barreled shotgun that old granny 
 had hid in her bed-tick. My ammunition was 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 15 
 
 scant, and I will not tell you where I got it. Jim 
 was armed with an old butcherknif e, which he 
 used to great advantage in depriving the dead 
 hog of his entrails. This lightened the draught 
 and also preserved the meat. After going some 
 distance the young man proposed that we divide 
 company, and that he take Bose with him and 
 leave us the other two dogs. He said there was 
 a hog range some miles off, and from the fresh 
 signs he thought it quite a number. I gave my 
 consent, and he departed. Jim and I came into 
 an old field covered with sedge grass ; there was a 
 little vacant space, and in this the hog lay. I am 
 now going to tell a story at the risk of being 
 called a "prize liar." 
 
 This was a beautiful sunshiny day, and 
 all wild animals were coming out to bask in the 
 sunshine. An old white boar about five years 
 old, who had escaped the battle of his masters or 
 his masters' enemy, lay in this space with all 
 
16 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 four feet stretched to the sun. He was motion- 
 less, and gave no evidence of life. The feet were 
 as rigid as in death. Jim seeing the hog, said: 
 "Master, there is an old wild boar ; some one has 
 killed him, and he is so poor they did not take 
 him away. Let's go up and see him." We rode 
 up, and to our astonishment he jumped up and 
 made for us. Had we not gotten out of the way 
 and given him the road he would have cut our 
 horses' legs off. He took a straight course for 
 the cane, but as it was about a mile through the 
 sedge field, we could keep up with him on our 
 horses. The two dogs would run up and nag him 
 in the hind quarters, but when he turned they 
 would turn loose and run. In one of these nag- 
 ging spells I came up, and when firing at the hog 
 killed the bench-legged "fice." The boar kept 
 straight to the timber and ran so fast that I 
 could not hit him, being a bad shot on the wing. 
 He made good his escape. The young man got 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 17 
 
 no game that day, but hearing our story, said we 
 would go the next day and he thought Bose would 
 .get him. 
 
 He came over the next day, which was also 
 beautiful and bright, with the crispness of a 
 live winter day, just enough to make one feel 
 active and strong, so all the party, dog and all, 
 felt like going into a fierce battle. 
 
 Coming to the place where we had jumped 
 the hog — or rather where the hog had jumped 
 us — and halting for a few moments to hold a con- 
 sultation and lay out a program for the day's 
 <mase, we started in the direction our enemy had 
 fled. Bose, smelling around on the bushes and 
 then on the ground, soon struck out in the direc- 
 tion the hog took. The capture of this boar 
 was to be the prize fight of the season, as he had 
 fought his way through many a battle and come 
 out victorious. It was not long before Bose was 
 keeping his head close to the ground and trotting 
 
18 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 up a little faster. We kept close behind him, 
 and after a while came to an old fence which had 
 the good fortune to escape the ravages of war. 
 The hog had touched the fence, and this we knew 
 by Bose scenting the rails. The fence was about 
 five feet high with the top rail somewhat rotted. 
 Wet rails or rotten wood often furnish to the dog 
 that is carrying the trail fresh scent, because 
 they absorb the hog's odor. Bloodhounds know 
 this, as well as all persons who have fol- 
 lowed them are aware. Bose leaped over 
 the fence and kept the trail, while we had to pull 
 down the fence to let our horses through. In this 
 time Bose had gotten a little ahead of us, and as 
 he was quickening his pace we had to spur up to 
 catch him. About a mile from the fence Bose 
 had brought him to a bay. He barked louder 
 than he ever barked before, for he knew he had a 
 formidable enemy to contend against. When we 
 rode up we saw the boar, with his back to a large 
 
A Wild Boar Chase— For Men and Boys. 19 
 
 sycamore tree. Bose was standing off at a re- 
 spectful distance, though giving no evidence of 
 fear. I said to the young man, "He is fortified 
 on all sides." And as I did not want my dog to 
 get killed or badly wounded, he said, "We'll fix 
 that, doctor; you and Jim stand here and I will 
 go around the tree, and while Bose is entertain- 
 ing him in front I will slip up behind the tree 
 and jump aboard of him and shoot him through 
 the head." He dismounted, and walking through 
 the cane unobserved by the hog, and unseen by 
 us, was soon aboard of his antagonist. The mo- 
 ment we saw him astride of this ferocious ani- 
 mal, and shuddering for his safety, we heard the 
 crack of his pistol. He had placed it close to the 
 hog's ear and sent a ball crashing through his 
 brain. He fell at once to the ground dead. Bose 
 had no opportunity of carrying off any of the 
 laurels. 
 
.20 A Wild Boar Chase — For Men and Boys. 
 
 This was the most daring adventure I ever 
 knew a man to make, either in war or out of war. 
 
 The boar was too poor to be used, but we did 
 not leave him in the woods for the vultures to 
 prey on his flesh, but handed him up to Jim to 
 take home and hang him up by the side of the 
 road as an evidence of our skill and bravery. The 
 ■capturing of this wild king of the forest gave us 
 more notoriety — that is, the young man — than if 
 we had killed twenty wild boars, as he had defied 
 the whole army of wild boar hunters. 
 
 We have given this narrative in detail, bat 
 have brought in nothing irrelevant or untrue. 
 Stories are often killed by drawing them out, and 
 relying more upon the imagination than facts. 
 
COMON SENSE ON SALOONS 
 
 AND THE TEMPERANCE QUESTION. 
 
 Extracts from Hon. Peter Sterling-. 
 
 There is as much champagne drunkenness 
 as whisky drunkenness in proportion to the num- 
 ber of drinkers of each. But a man who drinks 
 champagne is sent home in a cab and is put to 
 bed, while the man who can't afford that kind of 
 a drink, and is made mad by poisoned and doc- 
 tored whisky — doctored and poisoned by our 
 heavy tax on it — must take his chance of arrest. 
 That is the shameful thing about all our so-called 
 legislation. It is based on unfair interference 
 with personal liberty, and always discriminates* 
 
.22 Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 
 
 in favor of the man with money. If the rich man 
 has his club, let the poor man have his saloon. 
 "How much better, though, to stop the sale of 
 wine everywhere ?" That is neither possible nor 
 right. You can't strengthen humanity by tying 
 its hands. It must be left free to become strong. 
 I have thought much about tlrs problem, and 
 have come to the conclusion that free whisky is 
 the best plan to break up saloons — giving the 
 poor man equal chances with the rich, and giv- 
 ing him pure whisky at low prices to suit his 
 purse. 
 
 The poor man looks at the high tariff as an 
 attempt to abridge his personal rights, and there- 
 fore runs to the other extreme — of drinking for 
 defiance. Put whisky upon the same level that it 
 was before the civil war — a small tax for revenue 
 —and there will not be the tenth part of drunk- 
 enness that there is today, nor would there be one 
 gallon manufactured where there are twenty gal- 
 
Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 23 
 
 Ions made in this age. Why? Because it would 
 not be remunerative. Millions of dollars could 
 not be made out of it. Saloonkeepers could no 
 longer live in palaces sustained upon the money 
 drawn from the pockets of the poor. 
 
 The writer is capable of making the compari- 
 son as he has lived in both ages. He was the 
 owner of a large wholesale and retail drug store 
 in the village of Helena, Ark., from 1850 to 1858. 
 (The Nash and Cleburne firm.) We kept wine, 
 whisky and brandy by the barrel. In the retail 
 department we sold them by the bottle and by 
 the gallon. The best whisky we sold at forty 
 cents per gallon. The farmers would come in 
 and buy a gallon, take it home and drink it at 
 home in the presence of their families. Did they 
 ever get drunk? No; they were some of the best 
 Christians of the land. The wealthy planters 
 bought wine, of which we had all kinds, but old 
 imported Cognac brandy seemed to be the pref- 
 
24 Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 
 
 erence. We sold it at $1.25 per gallon. This wa» 
 imported, not American, which is a poor substi- 
 tute for the real brand, though it sells for five 
 times the price. Who drank this wine? The gen- 
 tlemen of the family. I have known a large fam- 
 ily, the mother and the children having never 
 tasted a drop of wine, for it was kept principally 
 for gentlemen visitors. Was drunkenness com- 
 mon in those days? It was an exception, and oc- 
 curred very seldom. With public sentiment 
 down on it, no excuse could be offered for it. 
 
 How much was spent for the wine? Not 
 much, as it was only indulged in by the wealthy 
 classes. What of the whisky? Perhaps a barrel 
 was sold in a year, more for log-rollings than pri- 
 vate use. Politicians in those days did not take 
 whisky in their saddlebags. They took tobacco 
 for the men, medicine for the children, and quin- 
 ine pills for the women. This was a politician's 
 equipment. 
 
Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 25 
 
 Hadn't they better do it at this day than to 
 be spending the amount of the first year's salary 
 in treating at saloons? Or, if the whisky is to 
 be used, hadn't he better buy a gallon at forty 
 ■cents and treat it out, than pay §25 for the same 
 amount in the saloon? Mark you, it will have 
 the same invigorating and patriotic effect on the 
 voter that the §25 a gallon whisky has, the sugar 
 and lemons being absent. You say : "Yon were 
 old fogies in those days; you were not up to the 
 progress in the sciences and arts." Well, we an- 
 swer, if the progress in science is to increase 
 drunkenness and the arts to increase vice, we had 
 better remain old fogies. We have not gone into 
 any scientific research upon alcohol or its phys- 
 iological or social effects, or the efforts of the 
 church to suppress its sale. We have never par- 
 taken of the sentimentalism of the Woman's 
 Temperance Clubs, because we thought they had 
 bitten off more than they could chew. A reform- 
 
26 Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 
 
 ation can never be brought about by force in mor- 
 als; it must be by convincing the judgment. 
 Ninety-nine out of one hundred people, good and 
 bad, discover a plot at the bottom of it all to pro- 
 hibit its use altogether. This is not enjoyed 
 by the best men and women of the State, and it is 
 that that has prevented them from taking any 
 active part in suppressing saloons. 
 
 How far is the partisan press responsible 
 for this state of affairs? It is rather a puzzling 
 matter in ethics. I don't think the newspaper 
 fraternity have any lower standard of morals 
 than other professions. In the main they stand 
 for everything that is admirable, so long as it is 
 non-partisan. Certain it is that the partisan 
 press would end tomorrow but for the narrow- 
 ness and meanness of readers. But don't the par- 
 tisan press make the mean readers? And, vice 
 versa, don't the mean readers support the parti- 
 san press? Then ain't both to blame just as 
 
Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 27 
 
 much as the saloon is for making drunkards? 
 The politician advocates saloons for votes, not 
 because he believes it right. If a man wants to 
 drink at any time, what right have I to say he 
 shall not, any more than he has to say I will not. 
 So long as a man drinks in such a way as not to 
 interfere with another person's liberty, we have 
 no right to check him. But the moment he does, 
 the public has a right to protect itself and his 
 family, by restraining him, as it does thieves or 
 murderers or wife beaters. 
 
 I sometimes conclude that the people that 
 are most in need of an education are the college 
 bred men. They seem to think they've done all 
 the work and study of their life in their four 
 years, and can dissipate mentally ever after. 
 Thought is not limited to muscle. To protect 
 the weak mind from the strong mind is a far 
 more difficult task. So far we have only par- 
 tially succeeded. In this difficulty lies the whole 
 
28 Common Sense on the Temperance Question. 
 
 problem of a free government. Socialism, so far 
 as it attempts to repress individualism, and re- 
 duce mankind to an evenness opposed to all nat- 
 ural laws, is suicidal of the best in favor of me- 
 diocrity. But so far as it attempts to protect 
 that mediocrity and weakness from the superior 
 mind of the best, it is only in line with the laws 
 that protect us from murder and robbery. You 
 can't expect men of the worst variety, however, 
 to draw such distinctions. 
 
GRANNY'S GRAVE 
 
 LAUGHTER IN TEARS 
 
 AND 
 
 TEARS IN LAUGHTER 
 
 BY 
 
 DR. C. E. NASH 
 
 LITTLE ROCK 
 
 THOMPSON L1TSO. AND FTG. CO. 
 LITTLE ROCK. 
 
COPYRIGHTED 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 At the solicitation of many of my religious 
 friends, I have been induced to detach "Gran- 
 ny's Grave" from my Biographies of Generals 
 Cleburne and Hindman, and bring it out in 
 cheap paper cover that the class of readers who 
 cannot indulge in a $1.50 book might enjoy the 
 story. It is a Southern story, but this makes 
 no difference to the intelligent reader. He cares 
 not where the plot was laid, so that the facts 
 are well written. There is no prejudice against 
 a good story, whoever the author may be. In 
 the hope of its doing good, is my only plea for 
 its introduction into general circulation. 
 
 Author. 
 
GRANNY'S GRAVE. 
 
 Late in the evening on a beautiful day in No- 
 vember, 1862, when the sun was sinking low in 
 the horizon, you might have seen a caravan con- 
 sisting of men, women and children, sallying 
 forth from their homes in Tunica county, Miss. 
 The three colors, white, black and yellow, were 
 represented in this following. Ox, horse, mule 
 wagons, and a cart, were loaded with the house- 
 hold effects of this rather motley crew. They 
 were decamping pretty much after the manner 
 of the Spaniards when they left Santiago de 
 Cuba. This band was allowed to take out their 
 goods and chattels, as they had nothing 
 contraband of war. They had no side arms, nor 
 front arms either, as they were not a belligerent 
 people, simply honest toilers of the soil; but 
 there was a mortified pride which had settled 
 upon the brow of all. What was this mortifica- 
 tion ? The same as that of the Spaniards— forced 
 to go. This caravan moved along with heavy 
 step and weeping eyes. Where was it going? 
 What Mecca was calling it to worship her God? 
 
6 
 
 Granny' s Grave 
 
 Not one of the number could tell. They had no 
 particular destiny; they were simply wandering 
 in the woods to find a place of safety, where they 
 could enjoy their slavery and freedom to their 
 own liking. 
 
 A few hours journeying brought them to the 
 banks of that notable and historical lake called 
 banks of that notable and historic lake called 
 "Flower Lake," from the abundance and variety 
 of flowers that grew along its banks. Upon its 
 blue waters floated that remarkable plant, yon- 
 kopin, an Indian name, and if we could define 
 it, no doubt it would explain its botanical sig- 
 nification; but the residents cared nothing for 
 the name, as the nuts it contained were as sweet 
 to the taste as the rose was to the smell. So what 
 is the difference about a name, so the taste and 
 odor are all right. With the bright, variegated 
 colors of the banks, and the bottle green leaves 
 of the yonkopin spread out on the bosom of the 
 lake like Chinese umbrellas, it necessarily pre- 
 sented one of those beautiful and picturesque 
 scenes that nature is always bringing to our 
 view, to gratify the taste and delight the eye of 
 the poor as well as the rich. God's beauties are 
 for the masses, not for the classes, and man can 
 neither obliterate nor destroy them. The poor 
 girls who lived near this lake could support a 
 
Granny 1 s Grave 
 
 7 
 
 finer boquet than any of the swell ladies of New 
 York or Chicago, for nature would not allow 
 these flowers to be transplanted to other soils 
 and climes. Flowers and plants could be found 
 about this lake that could be found nowhere 
 else. A wealthy gentleman owned a plan- 
 tation which bordered on this lake for two 
 miles. He was a bachelor at the time, but soon 
 after learned better and was married. 
 
 During his bachelorhood he erected a beauti- 
 ful pavilion on the banks of the lake for the la- 
 dies and gentlemen of the neighborhood to re- 
 pair in the spring season, and take from the lake 
 some of the finest trout, bass, black and white 
 perch, that was ever drawn by hook and line. 
 Many a pleasant day did the writer spend upon 
 the banks of this beautiful lake, in company with 
 the most educated, refined, polite and cultured 
 planters, with their beautiful, accomplished and 
 loving wives, who loved their husbands with the 
 greatest devotion and cared nothing for the ad- 
 miration and loose loving people of the world. 
 
 At these fishing excursions — for they might 
 well be called such, since they were attended by 
 parties who lived at quite a distance from the 
 lake — the bachelor planter would have a long 
 table set after the old fashioned barbecue table. 
 He had two colored men, the finest cooks in the 
 
8 
 
 Granny J s Grave 
 
 State, who served the viands to the guests. He 
 made two requests of his friends, which was 
 their card for admittance. Of the gentlemen, 
 they were to bring all the dogs they had that 
 were fit for nothing. Why this request, will be 
 explained further on. Of the ladies, they were 
 to bring all the single females of the family, or 
 widows, whether ugly or handsome, rich or poor. 
 In this request the bachelor had a motive. As 
 the ladies lived far apart, it would save him the 
 trouble of visiting them; then at a fish fry they 
 would be free and easy, more perfectly natural, 
 without putting on airs to catch beaux. They 
 would come wearing common sense shoes, that 
 tliey might run up and down the lake, gather 
 flowers, fish, or take a ride on its smooth waters 
 in one of his beautiful pleasure boats, which he 
 kept for the occasion. Their hair would flow 
 down upon their fair shoulders, and they could 
 get sunburnt if they liked, and there would be 
 no one to criticize or restrain their natural love 
 for the beautiful and sublime. They were sweet 
 innocents; God's noblest specimens of woman- 
 kind. 
 
 Did the bachelor select one of these girls who 
 came to his feasts? No; there were so many at- 
 tractions, he could not concentrate his affection. 
 Re thought it best to pay his addresses to one, 
 
Granny's Grave 
 
 9 
 
 and this one had never been near his lovely and 
 unique plantation. While lying on his lonely 
 bed at night, thinking of the past and desiring a 
 change for the future, his mind and heart ran 
 back to his early school days at Oxford. Miss., 
 and his mental eye settled upon one with whom 
 he had played in his youthful days. As he med- 
 itated upon her beauty, her simplicity, her grace- 
 ful step, rosy cheeks and kind and gentle tem- 
 per, he came to the conclusion that he would 
 go back to his old stamping ground, concentrate 
 all his romantic love and center it upon his first 
 love. This he did, and was married and lived 
 happily on his plantation, that to many of the 
 girls of today would be a miserable prison. 
 
 Xow for the invitation of the dogs. You will 
 see before the story is through that this is not a 
 digression. Well, all the dogs that were brought 
 to this fish fry were to be his. Butch, Tige, bench 
 leg, black and tan, hound and cur, all made their 
 appearance at this show. They were put into a 
 kennel, and there kept for a much larger and 
 more exciting show, which took place every 
 Christmas day while he was a bachelor, for his 
 wife would not allow him to have such entertain- 
 ments, saying they were brutal. The dogs that 
 were put in the kennel were to be brought out on 
 Christinas day, to be put in a fig-nt with bears. 
 
10 
 
 Granny's Grave 
 
 These bears had been raised from whelps to full 
 grown size, making them fat and strong. None 
 but men were invited to this dog and bear fight. 
 The writer has seen the banks of the lake lined 
 with men and boys, but none could come close to 
 the fight that had not brought a dog at one of the 
 entertainments. , t 
 
 The writer will now give a description of one 
 in which he was most interested, as he lost his 
 dog. As has been said, you must take a worth- 
 less dog ; no one of course would take a good one. 
 A dog came to my house in the summer of 1859. 
 He was half hound, black and white, with long 
 ears. He lay under the house all the time, never 
 coming out except to get water or food. He had 
 one black ear and one white, one black eye and 
 one white. He was of good size and could have 
 been useful if he so desired ; but he was troubled 
 with that disease some of our soldiers suffered 
 from during the civil war — home sickness — for 
 he loved the house, particularly the under part 
 of it. Perhaps this was a good choice of his, as 
 in the summer it was the coolest, and in the win- 
 ter he would get near the south side chimney, 
 and it would be comfortable for him. The ne- 
 groes could never get him to go out opossum and 
 coon hunting, nor any other kind of hunting ex- 
 cept bread hunting. 
 
Granny 1 s Grave 
 
 11 
 
 I never had much fancy for dogs, fishing poles, 
 or guns, so was present at only one of these en- 
 tertainments, which I am now describing, but on 
 Christmas of 1860, concluded to take the advice 
 of one of my old negro men, and go to please him. 
 He said he wanted me to go and take thaf ro 
 account dog and let the bear kill him ; he was fit 
 for "nuffin" but to eat, I knew there was no 
 chance to get the dogs there but by force, so I 
 told the old negro to get a long rope and tie him, 
 and I would lead him to the battle. This was 
 done, and I mounted my horse, forcing him 
 along for some distance. He pulled back and 
 made some strangling sounds, tearing the earth 
 up with his feet. I soon found I was not strong 
 enough to pull him along, so threw the rope ov^r 
 the pummel of the saddle and let the horse do the 
 pulling. He now saw that he had better trot 
 after the horse than be choked to death, so I had 
 no more trouble with him. 
 
 When I arrived I saw two large bears tie^ by 
 two long chains, which gave them permission to 
 get into swimming water when attacked by the 
 dogs. I led my dog, "Watch," to the bank of the 
 lake, close to the bears, where he could rfe-j the 
 fight and notice their movements, for he could 
 not run, as I held him by the rope. Watch 
 looked on at first with a steady gaze, showing 
 
12 
 
 Granny ) 's Grave 
 
 no evidence of cowardice. Then he commenced 
 to shake his head and seemed to be a little anx. 
 ions to take part in the combat ; but as none of 
 the dogs up to this time had ventured near 
 enough to bruin for him to get a slap at ihem, 
 and send them yelping to their masters, W atch 
 did not seem anxious to advance. At length a 
 bull dog that did not retreat from the position 
 he had taken, which was just outside the bear's 
 cable tow, made a lunge at one of the bears, and 
 seizing him by one of his quarters, was dragged 
 into the lake, and there the bear ducked him un- 
 til he was willing to turn loose his hold and 
 swim to the shore. At the defeat of this dog, 
 Watch became very much excited, and shook his 
 head violently, barking angr«'y. A short went 
 up from the bank, crying, "Turn him loose, Doc- 
 tor." As the old negro had said he hope 1 Watch 
 would get killed, I thought this a fitting time for 
 him to show his "patriotism," by dying for his 
 country, and relieving it of one of its formidable 
 enemies, so I turned him loose, and in a minute 
 he had one of the bears by the quarter. The bull 
 dog seeing this daring adventure, jump id in and 
 caught the bear by the other quarter. Th<> bear 
 made for swimming water, with the two dogs 
 hanging to his nethermost quarters. When he 
 reached the swimming water he turned and slap- 
 
Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 13 
 
 ped at the dogs, which sent them under the 
 water until they were completely ducked. But 
 the two dogs kept their hold, and by drawing 
 back had the bear's head under water, neither of 
 them turning loose their hold, whether on top or 
 under the water. Other dogs now swam in, and 
 covering the bear, soon had him drowned. 
 
 The hero of this story was Tom Saunders, who 
 was known all over the State, and for that mat- 
 ter, over every State that loved to hear bear stor- 
 ies, for the lake and the hero has been written 
 up by a professor of Oxford University in a clas- 
 sic novel. The writer never saw this book, and 
 if he has used any of the language of this writer 
 it is by an association of ideas formed thirty- 
 eight years ago. 
 
 How was this dead bear disposed of? He was 
 barbecued, and as he had been fed high, and 
 made fat and tender, he was the best "bar" meat 
 we ever ate. What became of the other bear? 
 The two heroes of the first fight, exhausted and 
 covered with blood from the bear's teeth, must 
 not enter this contest. 
 
 While the cowardly dogs on the bank were 
 barking loudly, the bear dogs in the kennel be- 
 came furious and broke out. Soon they had the 
 bear strung, and in spite of Tom's scolds and 
 whips, had him choked to death. It took the 
 two bears to feed the number of people. 
 
14 
 
 Granny' 1 's Grave 
 
 What became of Watch and the bull dog? 
 Tori took them of course; they were his prop- 
 erty by conquest. He took them on his next 
 chase, and they proved to be the best bear dogs 
 he had. About a year after Watch was killed in 
 a panther fight, nobly defending the life of his 
 master, for Tom said while he was trying to 
 avoid the wounded animal, he struck his foot 
 against a fallen tree and fell. He had his knife 
 in hand, and when the panther was about to cov- 
 er him Watch seized the panther by the hind 
 quarter and jerked him back. The panther 
 turned on Watch and caught him by the neck, 
 breaking it instantly. By this time Tom had 
 sent his knife deep into the panther's heart, and 
 there lay his friend and foe side by side in the 
 jaws of death. Tom had Watch taken home and 
 buried in his yard under a large spreading oak. 
 He buried him with the honors of war, shooting 
 several volleys from the same gun with which 
 the panther was wounded. 
 
 This narrative reminds me of a story which 
 Elbert H. English, who was for many years be- 
 fore, and at the time of his death, chief justice of 
 the Supreme Court of Arkansas. When English 
 was a boy in North Carolina, one of his neigh- 
 bors was greatly annoyed by coons eating his 
 roasting ears. He advertised for a coon dog, in 
 
Granny 9 s Grave 
 
 15 
 
 answer to which a long, cadaverous hunter from 
 the adjacent hills of Tennessee brought him a 
 hungry looking "jailer" dog, which he recom- 
 mended highly as a coon dog. The Alabama 
 farmer bought the dog, and he proved worthless. 
 He afterwards complained to the man of the 
 Tennessee hills for cheating him. "Wa'll," said 
 the stranger, "I always heard that every dog was 
 good for suinthin', and this 'un was no account 
 for nothin' I'd tried him on; but I'd not tried 
 him on coons, so I thought coons was his strong 
 pint." 
 
 We see by the moral of this story that even 
 dogs have a particular place to fill in their lives 
 — but some also have no particular place, which 
 we often see in the case of men — and if they can 
 find what that position is, and fill it to the best 
 of their ability, they, like Watch, will succeed. 
 
 The narrative that I have given is not unfa- 
 miliar to many now living in the Mississippi 
 bottom. What connection has all this with 
 "'Granny's Grave?'' We said the caravan camped 
 the first night on the banks of this classic lake. 
 The stock was watered at the spot where we had 
 seen the notable bear fight we have just de- 
 scribed. We have told you there was a cart in 
 this procession. What did it contain? A large 
 feather bed, a heavy comfort, a pair of sheets 
 
16 
 
 Granny' } s Grave 
 
 and blankets, and an old white haired mulatto 
 woman over ninety years of age. Why were they 
 lugging such baggage as this? An old woman of 
 that age could be nothing but a burden and ex- 
 pense upon such a trip as here described. Her 
 face was wrinkled, her teeth gone, her head 
 white as snow, her limbs palsied with age, her 
 eyes blind, so that she had to be both supported 
 and led when she wished to change her position. 
 Is this not an act of cruel injustice to expose one 
 so aged to such hardships? Was it of the old 
 woman's free will and accord that she was being 
 thus treated, or was she forced to take this trip 
 by her condition as a slave? The master 
 of this caravan was compelled to take his effects 
 to a safer place in the rear of the Confederate 
 army, as the Federals were crossing the Missis- 
 sippi river from Helena, and robbing him of cat- 
 tle, mules, hogs, bee hives, clothing, books, surgi- 
 cal instruments, and every other valuable thing 
 they could get their hands upon, except the ne- 
 groes, who refused to go with them. 
 
 Old granny hid a shotgun in the bedtick, and 
 then lay on it, so when they searched the house 
 for arms they found none. No, they were badly 
 disappointed this time. Granny had been in 
 the family for three generations ; had nursed the 
 grandparents of these children, and had done no 
 
Granny 1 s Grave 
 
 17 
 
 work for fifty years but nurse children. The last 
 ones nursed consisted of five — three girls and 
 two boys. The eldest, a girl of about eight years, 
 with light brown hair, blue eyes, rosy cheeks, 
 and full of fun. The other two girls resemble 
 each other to the extent they might be taken 
 for twins. Large, dark blue eyes, beautiful 
 smooth, glossy hair, inclined to curl, slender fig- 
 ures, yet pictures of health, with such bright, 
 happy dispositions. The oldest boy, who was 
 fourth in number, was tall, manly, and fine look- 
 ing. His eyes blue, fair complexioned, dark 
 brown hair. His mother used to look at him, 
 kiss and caress him when a babe, and say that 
 God had given her all she wanted. "I would not 
 change a feature of your face, or alter your dis- 
 position," she often said. The fifth, an infant, 
 with red hair, blue eyes and fair complexion — a 
 fat little cherub. These, with the father and 
 mother, composed the white members of the fam- 
 ily. Before leaving the plantation, the father, 
 whom granny had nursed, told her that he would 
 get a place for her in the neighborhood, and have 
 her well taken care of, and if she died would 
 leave money to pay all expenses, and have her 
 buried in the family graveyard. She protested 
 in the most solemn terms, saying, "I am going 
 with my 'chillun.' " "But," said he, "you will 
 
18 
 
 Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 die on the road, granny, and then we will have 
 to bury you away from home." Granny called 
 the children to her, and with tears streaming 
 down her old bronze cheeks, with a loud, tremu- 
 lous voice, said, "Your pa says he is going to 
 leave me here, children, and I am not going to 
 stay." All the children spoke out with one 
 voice, "You shall go, granny! you shall go!" 
 This decided granny's fate, and the cart was pre- 
 pared as heretofore described. A cam pure was 
 kindled close to the lake, and the cook prepared 
 some hot bread and coffee for supper. The tents 
 were taken from the wagons, stretched, and the 
 beds placed under them. Granny's bed was 
 spread under the white folks tent, and that 
 night all the children slept with granny. 
 
 While wife and I were sitting by the fire look- 
 ing as though we had lost our best friend, and 
 thinking of the responsibility of moving such a 
 family — we did not know where, but somewhere 
 behind the Confederate lines — I concluded to 
 break the silence by rehearsing what I have writ- 
 ten about the dog and bear fight. She well rec- 
 ollected old Watch, as she called him, for she 
 had many a battle with the broomstick to get 
 him out of the house. Wife and I did not retire 
 until late, and the negroes seemed to be restless, 
 frequently going out to where the stock was to 
 
Granny's Grave 
 
 19 
 
 see if they were all right, and expressing some 
 * doubts as to whether the yankees would follow 
 up and capture the whole clan. They were more 
 uneasy than I was, for 1 knew they would not 
 venture in the cane country after night, and by 
 the next day we would be safe. 
 
 Granny, being very much fatigued at this first 
 outing, fell asleep, and so sound did she sleep 
 that the whole camp, children and all, were 
 awakened by her loud snoring. The next morn- 
 ing the sun rose clear, and the animalculse in the 
 lake added additional brightness by giving out a 
 phosphorescent light. Everything looked calm, 
 quiet and majestic upon the lake, and had it not 
 been for the aquatic birds coming in at that sea- 
 son of the year to bathe themselves and get their 
 food from the yonkopins, you would have 
 thought a funeral procession was moving. Well, 
 there was some solemnity attached to the occas- 
 ion. After the teams were hitched up and gran- 
 ny's cart was made ready for her, she called to 
 the children: "Chilluns, come here! before we 
 gwine start we must kneel down here and pray 
 to God not to let them bad yankees catch us and 
 take my big baby's stuff from him." The chil- 
 dren obeyed the summons. My wife and I, who 
 were not particularly devotional, concluded to 
 go worship with the old negro woman and the 
 
20 
 
 Granny 1 s Grave 
 
 children. We walked silently up to the cart and 
 knelt with the rest. Granny was then upon her 
 knees, her hands clasped, and trembling, and, 
 with a voice far beyond the strength of her 
 years, made a prayer, the eloquence of which 
 was not surpassed by our ablest divines. Wife 
 and I were satisfied that she was speaking by in- 
 spiration. In her prayer she asked for God's 
 protection upon all of us. Rising, she said: 
 "Now we are ready to go. Sandy, put my bed in 
 the cart and keep up with the rest ; I don't want 
 to get away from my chilluns." 
 
 Everything now being accomplished at the 
 camps, we were ready to move. In the carriage 
 was myself, wife and five children. Not a word 
 was spoken for some distance, the prayer of 
 granny had so impressed us. The prayer was 
 no new thing to the children, for they had heard 
 granny pray every night and morning in the nur- 
 sery. The prayers of this old negro brought all 
 those children into the church long before their 
 parents had broken the bread of life. 
 
 Let us go back and describe the play room 
 granny presided over. We enter the inner apart- 
 ment and find a room twenty-two feet long by 
 eighteen feet wide; ceiling fourteen feet high, 
 ceiled with dressed oak. The walls were of the 
 same material. All the inside work was var- 
 
Granny's Grave 
 
 21 
 
 nished, giving a smooth surface that almost 
 served as a mirror. The floor was of heart cy- 
 press, and painted a chocolate color. The furni- 
 ture consisted of small chairs, tables, dressing 
 bureau, cradles, bedsteads, and every other kind 
 of furniture used in good housekeeping, but on 
 the diminutive style. The little cooking stove 
 was one of the principal attractions of the room. 
 Upon this little stove granny taught the girls to 
 cook everything after her old Virginia style of 
 cooking, who were considered the best cooks on 
 record. She taught them to set the table in an 
 artistic way ; would have entertainments, and in- 
 vite other children. If you could have stepped 
 in arid looked upon the happy little faces at one 
 of these children's entertainments, you would 
 say, "Give us back the days of Auld Lang Syne." 
 
 This explains to you why southern girls made 
 such good housekeepers and loving wives. They 
 were taught in infancy, before they were old 
 enough to go to school, as they learned it in play- 
 rooms. The children that old granny taught in 
 this nursery made the best cooks and housekeep- 
 ers in the land. After the war closed they were 
 able to go to the kitchen and cook the meals. 
 From the kitchen they went to the dining room, 
 from the dining room to the parlor, entertaining 
 you with brilliant wit and repartee, and giving 
 
22 
 
 Granny's Grave 
 
 you the sweetest music on piano and guitar. 
 They were educated in the best colleges in the 
 north and south ; made devoted wives and moth- 
 ers, sharing the labor with their husbands, who 
 had become worn out and dispirited by the re- 
 verses of the war, and speaking loving and en- 
 couraging words, cheering all in the household. 
 It is well known that a devoted wife and mother 
 can bear misfortune better than man ; are willing 
 to make more sacrifices, and take a more hopeful 
 view of things. This conduct of our southern 
 women made men, who had never done a day's 
 work of manual labor in their lives, seize the 
 plow and turn the turf vigorously — men whose 
 hands were as tender and as soft as a woman's. 
 It was this lesson of industry and practical ha- 
 bits, sprung into action by the hardships of war, 
 that has developed some of the finest characters 
 known to advanced civilization. 
 
 But let us return to granny. She trained the 
 boys to shoot their dummy guns, roll their wheel- 
 barrow, saw with their little saws, bore with 
 their gimlets, chop with the little hand ax, and 
 romp and play at will about the room. So you 
 see that both girls and boys learned useful habits, 
 without their knowing how it was done. 
 
 Had we not better have a nursery in every fam- 
 ily, instead of the kindergarten of the present 
 
Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 23 
 
 day? Are we not looking too much after the or- 
 namental at the expense of the useful? These are 
 pertinent questions, and most worthy of consid- 
 eration. 
 
 We left the caravan as it was starting out from 
 the lake. We are now journeying eastward, not 
 to find the rising sun, but to find the rising Con- 
 federacy, which at this time was a fixed fact to 
 those who were as enthusiastic as this little band 
 of patriots, for the negroes had caught up the 
 patriotism of their owners, as you have seen by 
 granny and her comrades. The first day's march, 
 though but twenty miles, was very fatiguing to 
 granny. We now arrive at the foot of the hills 
 in DeSoto county. After spending the night very 
 similar to the first one, with the exception of 
 granny's snores and my narratives, we journey 
 along, bending our way a little southward to- 
 ward Senatobia. As there were no Federals 
 nearer than Memphis, we thought we might bi- 
 vouac here in safety. 
 
 As the writer had some cattle in the cane, 
 which was not in the habit of coming out into 
 civilization, he concluded to take with him a cou- 
 ple of active men and horses in order to get these 
 cattle out and sell them to the Confederate gov- 
 ernment. The members of the family were now 
 to make themselves as comfortable as they could 
 
24 
 
 Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 in their tents. The weather was still pleasant, as 
 it was one of those exceptional years when frost 
 came very late. The three men return to the bot- 
 tom and are quite successful, getting out over a 
 hundred head of cattle. These we sold for cotton 
 money ; the best in the world, as we then thought. 
 Greenbacks could have bought nothing we had ; 
 indeed, they were considered contraband of war. 
 
 Mr. John Oarlock, a planter who lived near 
 Sentatobia, happened to pass by the camp, and 
 in conversation with my wife got the gist of our 
 story. He invited her to his home, and cared for 
 the stock and negroes until I could come out. 
 Carlock was a noble, generous man, of large 
 means, and very successful in business. To bring 
 our narrative to a close, we will say, that on our 
 return to the hills we concluded to stay as long 
 as it was safe to do so. We rented a place from 
 Mrs. Roberson, a sister-in-law of Carlock. It 
 was the old Clanton property. At this place and 
 in this house occurred the most pathetic scene of 
 my life. Granny was taken sick. The fatigue 
 she had to undergo was too great for her failing 
 strength, and in a few days she succumbed. 
 While sick she repeatedly prayed the following 
 psalm : "Cast me not off in time of old age ; for- 
 sake me not when my strength faileth." It was 
 in the month of cold December when the white 
 
Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 25 
 
 winged messenger came for that faithful member 
 of our household. She called us all around her 
 bedside, and speaking first to the children, put 
 her hands upon their heads, giving each a sepa- 
 rate blessing. I wish I could recollect her words ; 
 I know they would sink deep into the heart of the 
 most desperate sinner. She then called wife and 
 myself, and after rehearsing her history for three 
 generations, and pronouncing a blessing upon us, 
 fell quietly asleep in her Master's bosom, whom 
 she had faithfully served for more than a half 
 century. These last words made a deep impres- 
 sion upon us, but as there was nothing thought 
 of or talked of but war, the impression is now 
 but a dim ^one, to be recalled after the lapse of 
 nearly forty years. 
 
 She was quietly laid out on some smooth 
 planks, after being dressed in one of her black 
 Sunday dresses, with a white, old fashioned tur- 
 ban. These planks had to take the place of suit- 
 able tables, as we were absent from home. In a 
 short time the smile of perfect peace had settled 
 upon her features, and every wrinkle smoothed 
 out. The old white head in this instance was a 
 crown of glory, for it was found in the way of 
 righteousness. Every eye in the house was 
 streaming with tears; the hearts of the white 
 members of the family were as deeply touched as 
 
26 
 
 Granny 7 s Grave 
 
 those of her own color. The children were going 
 wild with sorrow, crying, "Granny is dead! 
 granny is dead!" Myself and wife, with our 
 house servants, sat up and watched that last 
 watch with the dead. None of us were members 
 of the church, and therefore hesitated in indulg- 
 ing in ministerial affairs, but at length the si- 
 lence was broken by our cook, who was accus- 
 tomed to hear granny sing to the children at 
 night before putting them to bed. She broke 
 forth in one of those nasal twang sounds, pecu- 
 liar to negroes, yet soft and pathetic. It was the 
 old hymn I had so often heard my mother sing 
 when I was a child — 
 
 "Jesus, lover of my soul, 
 Let me to Thy bosom fly." 
 
 Everyone thought this an appropriate hymn 
 for granny, as all believed her soul was then in 
 the bosom of her Master on high. 
 
 The next day, when we were putting her in the 
 coffin, the children covered her face with their 
 little white hands, and said, "Granny shall not 
 be put in that box, nor shall granny go into the 
 ground; we will keep her here with us." After 
 a great deal of persuasion, their mother succeeded 
 in coaxing them away. The corpse was placed 
 in the coffin and taken to a newly made grave, 
 in the old Clanton family burying ground. The 
 
Granny } s Grave 
 
 27 
 
 entire family followed the remains to their final 
 resting place, but when the corpse was to be 
 lowered into the grave, the children again sur- 
 rounded it, making the same protestations as in 
 the house. Never before had we such a trial 
 with our ovvn children, as in this case. The 
 occasion was too solemn for an exhibition of 
 temper, and persuasion, seemed to have no effect. 
 We did not wish to force them away, or use 
 harsh words, therefore must resort to deception 
 I told one of my men to drive granny back to the 
 house. The mother and children went towards 
 the house, while I quietly and secretly said to 
 the driver, "Take her behind the stable, while 
 they are absent, then bring her back and we 
 will bury her." This was done, and granny was 
 laid in the grave, not far distant from the aged 
 members of the Clan ton family. It was well for 
 her that she was then called to her final rest, as 
 it was but a short time before we had to take 
 that long and perilous trip to Selma, Alabama, 
 to assume the duties as surgeon of the ship hos- 
 pital in that city. 
 
 In 1865, after our surrender, which was in 
 April, our journey was now toward home, and in 
 passing through Senatobia we called a halt, that 
 the entire family might visit granny's last rest- 
 ing place, and that we might lay on her grave 
 
28 
 
 Granny's Grave 
 
 such flowers and evergreens as we could get. 
 The children wept as bitterly as they did when 
 she was laid in her coffin. We would have re- 
 moved the remains, but they were in a better 
 place than we could offer. 
 
 This scene is one of hundreds of such before 
 the war. Had Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe 
 written up one of these truthful exhibitions of 
 love from slave to master, and fidelity from slave 
 to their master's children, would not the north- 
 ern mind have had a different bias from what 
 was given it by that fanciful sketch of human 
 brutality — "Uncle Tom's Cabin." 
 
wjvrej* Deep. 
 
 By Chas. E. Nash, Little Rock, Ark. 
 
 On a beautiful sunshiny day, the 20th of No- 
 vember, 1883, might have been seen a large skiff 
 anchored at the landing* of the Mississippi 
 river town of Helena, on the Arkansas side of 
 the river. 
 
 This skiff and its freight, with its two 
 passengers, form an interesting scene long to 
 be remembered by the two parties who were 
 the participants in this tragic affair. 
 
 The writer owned a plantation lying on the 
 east bank of the river, in the State of Missis- 
 sippi and county of Tunica. It was just five 
 miles above Helena, and behind Island Sixty, 
 
2 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 that he had a plantation store and landings 
 with a shipping- and receiving* warehouse. 
 The larg-e Anchor Line boats discharg-ed their 
 f reig-hts, consisting- of corn, meat, flour and 
 all kinds of canned fruit and veg-etables, to- 
 g-ether with wagons, plows and iron ware of 
 all sorts. They received cotton bales and 
 cotton seed, the only articles of export in that 
 section, in payment for those agricultural and 
 manufactured articles. 
 
 We must now stop to g-ive an explanation of 
 the plantation store. 
 
 Before the civil war there was no such 
 thing- as a plantation store. Cotton being- the 
 currency of the country, all plantation sup- 
 plies, including- corn, meat, meal, potatoes, 
 cabbage and agricultural implements, were 
 furnished by the flatboat coasting* trade ; and 
 nothing- but sug-ar, coffee, molasses, rice, to- 
 bacco, etc., were ordered throug-h the com- 
 mission merchants at New Orleans. 
 
 This flatboat trade enriched the farmers of 
 Ohio, Illinois, Indiana and a part of Tennes- 
 see. 
 
Eight Hours in the f'resh Watet Deep. 
 
 3 
 
 This was truly honest interstate trade. No 
 tariff was laid upon these articles.' No 
 wharfage was demanded of them. • 
 
 These boats coasted along- from Cincinnati 
 to New Orleans, and, after disposing" of all 
 their effects, the boatmen would sell their 
 boats and take steamer passage for home, 
 with their coffers filled with the best money 
 in the land. They could get gold for every 
 check they had, or Canal Bank paper, which 
 was at a premium over gold. 
 
 In earl} 7 days these Mississippi river com- 
 mercial men would walk back home, for they 
 were men of muscle, with well balanced 
 brains, and could make the trip in less time 
 than the slow moving* steamers of that day. 
 The commercial connection between planter 
 and tradesman ripened into strong - friendship, 
 and oftentimes when the trader was at a land- 
 ing* selling- thousands of bushels of corn to the 
 neighborhood, he was royally entertained at 
 the planters' home and toasted as we would 
 in these times toast a millionaire. 
 
4 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 It may be asked here why the planters did 
 not make their own supplies. 
 
 The answer is that cotton furnished labor 
 for the old and young, and as the active man 
 and woman labor could produce more cotton 
 than they could pick out, it furnished profit- 
 able employment for those who were not able 
 to do any other kind of work. The whole 
 force of the plantation had to be used for the 
 making and gathering - of this crop alone. It 
 was so remunerative that it supplied every 
 other necessity of life. This trade was car- 
 ried on until the breaking out of the war in 
 1860. There were no monopolies, combines, 
 trusts, or anything to excite jealousy. The 
 poor merchant had no prejudice against the 
 rich planter, as it was from this honest indus- 
 try he made his living. 
 
 We now come to the point of the establish- 
 ment of these plantation stores and how they 
 were conducted. 
 
 The first year after the war the western 
 men, who had carried on this trade for years, 
 knew that all the plantations on the Missis- 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep, 5 
 
 sippi river had been abandoned during the 
 war and that the}- had no supplies to make a 
 crop. Thousands of bushels of corn were 
 brought down the river and sold to the plant- 
 ers, taking- their notes but never collecting - 
 them. It was a donation from those men who 
 had carried on this interstate trade. But when 
 the carpetbaggers, negroes, thieves and rob- 
 bers got possession of the country they passed 
 county laws taxing all the craft that brought 
 supplies S5 a day. whether they sold anything 
 or not, and frequently they would be boarded 
 and robbed at night, cut loose from their 
 moorings and sent adrift. This compelled 
 the planter to have a store on the river or on 
 the railroad to sell produce to their share 
 hands. 
 
 The freight was brought by the railroads 
 at a heavy tax, the free cheap transporta- 
 tion of the rivers was broken up. and the 
 planter had to mortgage his plantation and 
 stock and pledge his cotton to the commission 
 merchant. His share hands did not often 
 make enough to pay for what they consumed. 
 
6 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 This failure fell on the planter, and he had to 
 renew his note with heavy interest and bor- 
 row for another year's supply. It was not 
 long' before the railroads got the lands mort- 
 gaged to them for building and equipping. 
 They ran their roads close to the rivers, so as 
 to paralyze the river transportation, which 
 was very cheap, and built up monopo- 
 lies, trusts and combines. You now buy your 
 meat from packers in Chicago at extravagant 
 prices, and ship on railroads at as high 
 freights. This prevented the poor western 
 farmer from bringing his hogs and corn in 
 boats of his own construction down the rivers, 
 where God had given him the right of way 
 and his fellow man had given him the right 
 to interchange commodities on fair and honest 
 principles. Had this mutual benefit trade 
 not have been broken up by designing men, 
 the country all along the rivers would have 
 been in a far better condition than it is. The 
 western men asked no mortgages for supplies. 
 Indeed, there were no mortgages or deeds of 
 trust on the records in any county. 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 7 
 
 In the State of Arkansas there are thirty- 
 eight navigable streams that the government 
 has covenanted with the State to keep the 
 channel clear. Now, had the general govern- 
 ment carried out this agreement a good navi- 
 gable stream could have been reached in a 
 shorter distance than forty miles. Beautiful 
 small passenger boats would have plied their 
 waters, and the crafts and right of way 
 would have belonged to the people, and not to 
 the millionaire. For every twenty-five miles 
 on the river there would have grown up a 
 small flourishing town, with its churches* 
 schools and local trade. There would have 
 been no mortgages or trusts on any farmer's 
 land, nor would he have been taxed to death 
 to build and sustain railroads. These little 
 towns would have had such social amuse- 
 ments by amateur performers as they desired. 
 They would have been content and happy 
 with their surrounding's. The farmers are 
 now induced by what the railroads call cheap 
 excursion fare to the large cities. The} T must 
 see everything that is going- on in the cities 
 
8 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 from a dog- show to a prize fig-ht. These are 
 all city tricks g-otten up to g-et the money of 
 the farmers and laborers, that they may build 
 palaces for themselves with but little, if any, 
 honest toil. 
 
 Now, let us see what Arkansas has thrown 
 away. The greatest blessing- God g-ives to 
 any state ; an abundance of streams to trans- 
 port all f reig-hts, without money or price. All 
 the older states made use of their rivers and 
 lakes to grind their grists, saw their timber, 
 and transport all the produce. This water 
 power was used until the increase of popula- 
 tion and multiplied products had increased to 
 such an extent that the water power was not 
 sufficient to carry on the trade. 
 
 Let us stop here and put in a line for the 
 negro, who is now inhabiting- the most of 
 these lands. Here I will quote Moses, who 
 says in the xxiii chap., 29th verse, of Exodus : 
 "I will not drive them out from before thee 
 in 'one year;' lest the land become desolate, 
 and the beasts of the field multiply ag-ainst 
 thee;" 30th verse, "By 'little and little' I 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 9 
 
 will drive them out before thee, until thou be 
 increased and inherit the land." 
 
 Now the south is pursuing this very course 
 with the negro. It would not be wise to 
 drive them off this land in large bodies, lest 
 the large cotton plantations grow up with 
 forest growth. The white immigration south 
 will be as slow as the exodus of the negro, on 
 account of the climate and indigenous dis- 
 eases. But the increase of the southern whites^ 
 with the gradual influx of the western man,, 
 who understands the nature of the 
 negro much better than the north- 
 ern man. these will be principally the 
 occupants of the soil with the southern man, 
 and the northern man will gradually immi- 
 grate to the west. The white man is only 
 going to change his locality agreeable to cir- 
 cumstances. The negro must be content with 
 his surroundings until he is gradually dis- 
 placed by the white man and colonized in 
 some other country. He will not be dealt 
 with harshly, but allowed to accumulate 
 property by honest toil and industry, that he 
 
10 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 may be prepared to go when the time comes 
 for his departure. This will not be done in a 
 year, or perhaps in a quarter of a century, but 
 it is the inevitable. When the rich bottom 
 lands become ditched and drained, and the 
 water utilized, and the country freed of its 
 malarial poison, then, and not till then, will 
 these lands become habitable for even 
 the southern white man. There must and 
 will be a survival of the fittest. 
 
 I have brought in the foregoing- page 
 more for information than a desire to "pad " 
 my narrative. 
 
 I will now come back to the skiff 
 and give you an account of the voyage 
 and its shipwreck. We must first tell how 
 our craft was loaded, and what the merchan- 
 dise. A large number of goods boxes, con- 
 taining fabrics of light under and upper 
 clothing for men and women, constituted the 
 bulk of the freight. The heavier articles 
 were placed in the hull of the boat and the 
 light boxes on top. This made the skiff a 
 little top heavy, but by dividing our two 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 11 
 
 weights we had her well balanced. I took 
 my position at the stern and played steers- 
 man. As I recollect the sun was getting 
 low when we started, but had sufficient time 
 to reach the landing- before dark, under ordi- 
 nary circumstances. As the skiff was loaded 
 heavy, within an inch of the water line, we 
 must necessarily keep in still water as much 
 as possible. This we did by following- the 
 bends in the bank, which causes a counter 
 current and turns the current up stream until 
 it meets with a projection in the bank some 
 distance off. By this means, and the dip of 
 the oars and strong- pull of my ebony friend,, 
 we were able to g-et at a point for crossing 
 the river opposite the store. 
 
 Just after we started to get across, and had 
 gotten fairly into the strong current, a dark 
 cloud appeared in the north and seemed to be 
 following the course of the river. The wind 
 now commenced rising and soon became high, 
 while the cloud was gathering thick and fast, 
 and coming down the stream at the velocity 
 of a hurricane. We had gotten about half 
 
12 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 way across the stream when it struck us with 
 a tremendous force. The rain commenced 
 pouring- down upon us, and the blackness of 
 darkness overshadowed us. Just below the 
 landing- was a large raft, which had been 
 formed by falling- in trees from the bank. 
 This raft was in one of those coves in the 
 bank, and furnished a g-ood suction power for 
 the current. It was to this point we were 
 rapidly moving-. 
 
 I said to the man, "We are going' to be en- 
 gulfed and run under the raft and lost, if you 
 do not pull harder." He replied, "My arms 
 have given out, and I can pull no long-er." 
 The words were scarcely uttered before I 
 heard that g-urgling-, roaring- sound, so famil- 
 iar to boatmen on any river containing- a raft. 
 In a minute the bow of the craft struck a tree 
 that lined the outside of the raft, then the 
 skiff turned over, and the man sprang- to the 
 tree and caug-ht it with his hands, and throw- 
 ing his breast upon it was comparatively safe, 
 as the bow struck the tree and the boat 
 turned. I sprang into the water and with two 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 13 
 
 or three strokes of my hands was by the side 
 of my partner, but only with my hands upon 
 the tree, while the current had taken my feet 
 under the drift. I spoke to the man, telling" 
 him to g-et upon the loo*, and catch me by the 
 collar of the coat and drag me up. I said, 
 "Be quick, or my hold will give out. and I will 
 go under the drift." He sprang- up and did 
 as I told him. 
 
 The boat had g*one under the raft and the 
 g-oods were floating- around, not discoverable 
 to our eyes, as it was the blackness of dark- 
 ness. The tree that we were on was one of 
 those larg-e red oaks, which measured about 
 five feet in diameter at the stump ; but this 
 tree had no stump. It had fallen into the 
 river by a caving bank, and was firmly 
 attached to it bv some loner, strong- roots. 
 Its body being- very Heavy it sank under the 
 water about ten feet, while the top. with the 
 upper part of the trunk, was above the water. 
 We started to get to the bank and see if we 
 could not ascend it, but the water upon the 
 log- was too deep to be forded, and the bank 
 
14 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 too steep to be climbed. We returned to our 
 former position ; and as this was what old 
 raftsmen call a sawlog — this kind of a log* 
 goes up and down like an old whipsaw— we 
 were going- up and down up to our armpits in 
 water at every stroke. The rain had ceased, 
 but the wind was blowing furiously. After 
 we had been on this log for two or 
 three hours the James Lee came down the 
 river, but the wind was so fierce and boister- 
 ous that she did not hear our hail and words 
 of distress, so the boat passed by. 
 
 I had on a heavv overcoat, but this was sat- 
 urated with the cold river water, and only 
 made me more chilly. We had despaired of 
 ever being rescued, as we knew that the roots 
 might give way at any time, and the whole 
 raft would be broken loose and we would be 
 drowned. While in this condition it gave us 
 time to meditate upon the uncertainty of life 
 and the certainty of death. Whatever reli- 
 gious thoughts may have occupied our minds 
 at that time cannot be recalled at this mo- 
 ment. 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 15 
 
 About 2 o'clock in the morning- the Bayou- 
 sard, a large boat belonging* to the St. Louis 
 Packet Company, came down. By this time 
 the rain had ceased but the wind was still 
 high. We were being tossed up and down 
 on the tree, and as our head was lifted high 
 above the water we came to the conclusion it 
 was a good time to give our cry of distress, 
 expanding our chests to their utmost capa- 
 city. I gave the crowning* cry of my life. I 
 have stood on the side of a high hill in my 
 boyhood days and called the cows, but this 
 was the best effort of my life. 
 
 A lady, finding it necessary at that hour of 
 the night to visit the rear of the boat, heard 
 the words of distress, so plaintive, yet so 
 clear, caught them and ran to the clerk's 
 office and told him that some one was in great 
 distress, at the same time repeating the 
 words she had heard. The clerk being- a Ma- 
 son, he immediately spoke to the pilot, the 
 pilot to the captain, and immediately the 
 whistle of distress was given. No sound ever 
 struck our ears so welcome as this. No, not 
 
16 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 even the cry of our first born. As the night 
 was very dark, even to blackness, the electric 
 lights had to be thrown out. But as we were 
 three miles above, and in a cove shadowed by 
 the large oak trees, we could not be discovered. 
 As the boat moved slowly up, searching at 
 almost every paddle wheel's rotation, she 
 espied us, but as stated before, the small drift- 
 wood had caught around the tree and ex- 
 tended a considerable distance in the river. 
 If she had attempted to come close to us she 
 would have broken the drift loose and we 
 would have been lost; but the captain was too 
 good a river man, and the pilot too anxious to 
 save the life of his brother Mason, and he came 
 cautiously in sight of the two persons, as we 
 were lifted up and down on the tree. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with the forma- 
 tion of rafts on the Mississippi river know 
 that light driftwood collects to a great dis- 
 tance into the stream, and when disturbed the 
 entire mass breaks loose. Knowing this fact 
 I was in doubt as to whether our rescuers 
 were going to speedily put an end to our ex- 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 17 
 
 istence or prolong- our lives a span longer. 
 But this anxiety was relieved when we heard 
 the captain give the order to lower the yawl 
 and advance slowly to the scene. The mate 
 took a large lantern in his hand, and not get- 
 ting near enough for us to board the yawl, 
 cried out, "I will throw this rope to you, and 
 you can catch it, and I will pull you through 
 the water, or you can drown, d — n you." I 
 answered, "Throw the rope, and I will catch 
 it if I can." My hands were so numb from 
 being in the water so long that I had some 
 doubts as to my ability of keeping my grasp. 
 The rope was thrown and I seized it with a 
 death grasp. The mate pulled me through 
 the water and dragged me into the yawl. 
 Upon observing my face, which he had illu- 
 minated with his lantern, he cried out, "God 
 forgive me, old man; I thought it was a nig- 
 ger. ' ' I was so stiff I was unable to stand, 
 but said to him, "Throw your line out again 
 and save my faithful colored friend." He did 
 so, and he also was dragged in, but as he was 
 young and strong he had not sulf ered so much 
 
18 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 from the cold. The yawl was then rowed to 
 the boat and I was lifted out and placed under 
 the boilers, as it was the best place to heat 
 me up and give the ladies a chance of drench- 
 ing- me with brandy and rubbing- my almost 
 palsied hands and feet from the ice cold water 
 — that is to me it felt that cold. The captain 
 came down and expressed much anxiety about 
 my condition, telling- the ladies that anything- 
 they needed to let him know, and he would 
 instantly furnish it. They told him to send 
 up and g-et the blankets off their beds to wrap 
 me up, as a cold shiver was passing- over my 
 entire body, and I was shaking like one who 
 had the shaking- palsy. The boat was held 
 at anchor while I was being* restored, not a 
 wheel was moving* nor the audible escape of 
 steam. After I became sufficiently restored 
 the captain asked me where I wished to g*o, 
 stating- at the same time, if I wished to g-o up 
 the river, he would turn his boat up stream 
 and take me to where I could be transferred 
 on an upstream boat. I told him that I was a 
 citizen of Helena, and the landing- he had 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 19 
 
 passed was my landing*. He said. "Yes, I 
 have discharged many tons of freight at that 
 landing-, but neyer saw you before." My an- 
 swer was that I did not live there: only 
 owned, it. At this time, as well as I can rec- 
 ollect, it was about 4 o'clock in the morning-. 
 I told him to take me to Helena and put me 
 off on the wharfboat. where I could remain 
 until morning. He asked me if he would send 
 out and get a hack ; did I think I was strong- 
 enough to be taken home. I said. "I think 
 I am captain, but I do not want to put you to 
 so much trouble, as I Have already detained 
 your boat so long. He said, "It is no trouble, 
 no trouble, sir; you are a Mason, and it is my 
 duty to hold this boat and the whole crew 
 until you are safe in the hands of your 
 friends."' I told him to send for the hack 
 and I would make the trip to my sister's 
 Mrs. O' Conner, as my wife was in Jackson, 
 Miss., and there was no one at home. I had 
 become perfectly thawed in this time from 
 the rubbing and brandy the ladies had given 
 me, so much so that they could remove their 
 
20 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 shawls which were wrapped close tt> my 
 body; and here, let me remark, that my body 
 was never wrapped in such elegant shawls 
 nor will ever be again. 
 
 After becoming- conscious and the better 
 part of my nature returning-, the words of 
 the poet came forcibly to my mind: 
 
 "Oh, woman, in our hours of ease, 
 Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
 And variable as the light quivering- shade ; 
 When pain and anguish wring - the brow, 
 A ministering angel thou." 
 
 The clerk was now sent out to procure a 
 hack. The stable was about a mile and a half 
 from the landing*, and as it was at that hour 
 when all thing's are still in a small town, not 
 even a chanticleer was flopping- his wing's and 
 g-iving- the morning-'s alarm, he had to foot it. 
 He made the trip in double quick, and before 
 we thoug-ht he had time to g-et to the stable 
 he was back with the hack. The captain and 
 the clerk took me under the arms and helped 
 me into the carriag-e. The captain then said 
 to the clerk, "Go with him, and don't leave 
 him until you deliver him safe into the hands 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 21 
 
 of his friends, and there is no need to be in a 
 hurry." When the door bell rang- at that 
 hour it alarmed my sister, as she was not 
 looking- for a visitor at so unseasonable an 
 hour. The clerk, with her assistance, took 
 me into the hall, and after g-iving- her a brief 
 history of my serious adventure, took his 
 leave by giving- me the sig-n of a Master Ma- 
 son, the parting- farewell so familiar to the 
 craft. 
 
 The next morning- about daybreak some 
 neg-roes were passing- the wreck of our unfor- 
 tunate craft, and seeing- it turned upside 
 down, with the boxes of dry g-oods floating* 
 around the raft, concluded we were drowned 
 and perhaps under the raft. They hastened 
 to the ferry landing* and g-ave the alarm. 
 This was also carried to Friar's Point. 
 
 The little town of Helena was in a great 
 state of excitement, but not more so than they 
 would have been had it been some one else 
 who had passed through such a trag-ic scene. 
 
 But one of the wharf boat men had a sick 
 friend aboard the boat, for whom he wished to 
 
22 
 
 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 procure some medicine, and while the Bayou- 
 sard was waiting- for the return of the clerk, 
 he walked up to Grant's drugstore and gave 
 the details of my adventure. But before the 
 news of my safety could be made known, the 
 negroes first spoken of had spread it over the 
 village, and many friends were up and hast- 
 ening to the wharf to hear the news. By 
 this time Mr. Grant had gotten out and 
 quieted their fears by telling them that I was 
 safe and at my sister's. 
 
 Now to wind up a long story, not as inter- 
 esting to my readers as it was to me, and I 
 might here bring in the old obsolete word, 
 "extra dictionary," to express its signifi- 
 cance — not words but facts. 
 
 The day after my escape I had the pleas- 
 ure and extreme gratification to read my 
 obituary in three papers — The Memphis Ap- 
 peal, the Friar's Point Sun and an Austin, 
 Miss., paper, the name of which I have for- 
 gotten. All these papers said many good 
 things about me, which a dead man never 
 hears, but which gratify his friends and rela- 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 23 
 
 tives. You know, my reader, that a live man 
 never has many g*ood things said about him, 
 unless he is a politician. 
 
 But the Helena World had a short contra- 
 dictory notice, which I enjoyed more than the 
 obituaries. The stroke of the pen in their re- 
 traction was not as eulogistic as in the obitu- 
 aries, for a live eye was to look upon these lines. 
 
 If I have brought in my plantation and 
 store, it is not for the purpose of making- my 
 readers believe that I was a rich planter or 
 even a well to do merchant, for I can assure 
 them it is with feelings of mortified pride that 
 I have to acknowledge the rich planter now a 
 poor doctor, who is now driving his pen for a 
 living. "Sic transit gloria mundi." 
 
 In counting over the words I have written, 
 I find there is less than four thousand, which 
 is not enough to make a booklet of respect- 
 able size. I have, therefore, concluded to add 
 the following, not for the purpose of "pad- 
 ding ' ' my book, as critics would say, but for 
 
24 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 the purpose of giving- some more interesting* 
 information of my early Masonic life. 
 
 In the year 1850, some time in April, a 
 couple of young- Masons came in a canoe to 
 my office. The water of the great Missis- 
 sippi river had spread itself several feet over 
 the land at this point — Helena, Ark. — and all 
 communication had to be carried on throug-h 
 the medium of skiff and canoe. 
 
 Well, as I said before, the two young- 
 Masons entered the office at 8 o'clock at nig-ht 
 and informed me in a jocular way that they 
 had orders to take me a prisoner and carry me 
 to the Masonic hall for trial, for some thing-s I 
 had been doing*. They read no indictment to 
 me, nor even a written summons. I asked 
 what I had done, but they g*ave me no satis- 
 factory answer, but said, " We won't hurt 
 you." Not knowing what I was going- to be 
 tried for, but having a conscience void of 
 offense towards my fellow men, if I had not 
 towards my God, I consented to go. 
 
 When I reached the hall I was told that I 
 had been elected to the Entered Apprentice 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 25 
 
 degree of Masons, and that they were now 
 read\- to confer that degree, if I could satis- 
 factorily answer certain questions the}' would 
 propound. The questions were asked and the 
 answers returned acceptably. 
 
 The degree was conferred after the solemn 
 services of this mystic order. 
 
 But before I took the degree my eyes were 
 permitted to look around the hall and dis- 
 cover what was there. The hall, a room 18x20 
 feet, was an upper story over Bill Bivens' little 
 printing- office. As it was cold and chilly at 
 this time, a fire was made in the old smoky 
 stove, and I and all the rest were shedding 
 tears as thoug"h we had lost all our relatives 
 and friends. My eyes became partly dimmed, 
 but by the feeble light of the tallow candles 
 I was able to survey and observe the contents 
 of the room. A goods box was on the 
 eastern side. It was covered with a white 
 cloth, trimmed with cotton lace, which fell in 
 festoons over the box. Upon this box was a 
 gavel made of a knot, taken from an old oak 
 tree, and fashioned by the hands of what I 
 
26 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 supposed was an apprentice, as it was very 
 rough. Just back of this box sat a grave and 
 dignified personage, with his hat on, and this 
 gavel in his hands. The chair he sat on was 
 not the chair of state. It was a large split 
 bottom chair, made somewhat larger than 
 those in use, perhaps to hold the royal dignity 
 of him who was to occupy it, until it should 
 be replaced by one of more modern style. 
 There were benches placed on either side of 
 the room for the accommodation of the craft. 
 About the center of the room stood another 
 goods box, not so large as the first, but suffi- 
 ciently large to hold a man of huge propor- 
 tions. This was the altar upon which my 
 sacrifice was to be offered. Before I came 
 from this altar I did not know whether the 
 room was filled with smoke, or whether the 
 sun was shining or the moon was shedding 
 her soft rays upon the earth, or whether she 
 was sending her soft yellow rays through the 
 cracks of the roof of the house to assist the 
 tallow candles in throwing light upon the 
 sublime scene. No, I was mentally bound by 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 27 
 
 obligations too serious for me to write and 
 too sacred for me to utter. Well, I was 
 made an Apprentice Mason. My mind was 
 long- spellbound trying- to remember those 
 beautiful sentences and sublime thoughts. I 
 learned that Masonry did not consist in out- 
 ward show. It did not value a man for his 
 learning- or his position in society. It did not 
 value him for his worldly wealth or honors, 
 but for the intrinsic value of his character. 
 To me all the colors of a rainbow had ap- 
 peared, and I had made a new covenant with 
 my Maker never to be broken. 
 
 You see, my dear reader, that I hold fast to 
 my native tong-ue. I think many writers 
 would do well to observe this rule and g-ive us 
 less French and Germanized literature. It is 
 not comprehensive, it is not expressive. 
 
 I will now undertake to describe the ad- 
 vance of this rough, smoky, primitive build- 
 ing, and you will discover that as society pro- 
 gressed and prosperity increased, so did the 
 members of the craft add to their stock of 
 Masonic learning, "pari posu. " 
 
28 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 The number of members at this time was, I 
 think, about eig-hteen on the records of the 
 lodg-e, and I think my memory serves me rig*ht, 
 as I was treasurer in this year. 
 
 In about the year 1854 this crude building- 
 had merg-ed into a beautiful structure, built 
 after modern style, and the hall furnished 
 after the richest oriental paraphernalia of 
 King- Solomon's temple. 
 
 It is not necessary to describe the outfit, as 
 it can be seen in all the Masonic halls of 
 wealthy communities in the present day. 
 
 Its members grew from eig-hteen to one 
 hundred and fifty-seven at the outbreak of 
 the civil war. It embraced some of the most 
 notable characters in eastern Arkansas, nota- 
 bly, T. B. Hanley, James C. Tappan, Chas. 
 W. Adams, Rog-er F. Sutton, P. R. Cleburne 
 and other lawyers. The physicians were 
 Hector M. Grant, John W. Glenn, Jonas 
 Smith and C. E. Nash; and the merchants, 
 H. P. Coolidg-e, A. J. Lote, Wm. Myrtle, 
 Jesse Jackson. Citizens of various occupa- 
 tions, Henry L. Biscoe, William F. Moore 
 
Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 29 
 
 and others whose names I do not remember. 
 But I do remember that conscientious, active, 
 enthusiastic Mason, first in every movement 
 for g-ood in the craft, the merchant tailor, 
 Mortimer Piatt. These were the Masons 
 that belonged to the order in the primitive 
 days of Masonry in the eastern part of the 
 state. 
 
 In 1849 Arthur J. Lote was master and in 
 1850 William C. Myrtle occupied the oriental 
 chair. At this time there was no Royal Arch 
 Chapter. I think it was in 1852 that Albert 
 Pike organized a chapter and conferred the 
 Royal Arch degree on a class consisting- of H. 
 M. Grant, Patrick Ronane Cleburne and C. E. 
 Nash. Pike left us without instruction 
 and it was several months before work 
 could be done in this degree. The lodg-e and 
 chapter united their means and sent to Cin- 
 cinati for the Grand Master of the State of 
 Ohio, a Mr. Chapman, as I recollect. We 
 eng-ag-ed him for the winter to lecture to us. 
 He had a larg-e class and he performed his 
 duty well. At the close of his eng-ag*ed time, 
 
30 Eight Hours in the Fresh Water Deep. 
 
 which was in the spring- of 1853, he had the 
 brightest Masons in the state, and he con- 
 gratulated us on our constant attention and 
 aptness for learning-. This lodg-e took the 
 lead in the state until 1856, when the Grand 
 Lodg-e placed a reg-ular stipend on all the 
 lodg-es to support St. John's College. Lafay- 
 ette Lodg-e No. 16, for that was the name 
 and number at this time, entered her protest 
 and refused to pay the assessed amount, 
 olfering- at the same time double the amount 
 as a voluntary donation. The Grand Lodg-e 
 refused to accept and ordered our charter 
 taken from us. We submitted to this rather 
 than submit to what we thoug-ht an arbitrary 
 proclamation. The charter was restored in 
 1866, but the number was chang-ed to eig-hty- 
 seven. The beautiful hall was burned down 
 by the federals in 1863, while they occupied 
 the city of Helena, and all its handsome equip- 
 ments, with its charter, destroyed by the 
 hands of those who knew not what they did. 
 
THE 
 
 Status of the Negro, 
 
 From a Negro 's Standpoint, 
 In His Own Dialect. 
 
 A THRILLING TRAGEDY 
 
 In the Days of Reconstruction . 
 
 ANNIVERSARY OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH 
 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Read before the Little Rock Medical Society. 
 
 DR. CHARLES E. XASH, 
 
 LITTLE ROCK, ARK. 
 
 little rock, ark.: 
 Press of Tuxxah & Pittard. 
 1900. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1900, 
 By DR. CHARLES E. NASH, 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C 
 
 Photographs for illustrations were taken by Little Rock's most accomplished 
 artist, Mr. T. B. Rayburn, 612 Scott street. 
 
THE STATDS OF THE NEGRO, 
 
 FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT, IN HIS 
 OWN DIALECT. 
 
 A COUNTRY NEGRO VISITS THE CITY AND TAKES IN 
 THE SURROUNDINGS. — HIS CONVERSATION AF- 
 TER HIS RETURN. 
 
 Well, old 'oman, I seed de nig-g-ers in dat city. 
 De fus' man I sees say he de preacher of de gospel. 
 He dressed up like de white g-emmen in de old times. 
 He had de broad clof coat old master used to wa\ I 
 bet dat nigger done stole dat coat from some white 
 g-emman, kase you know dat in old times po' white 
 trash couldn't wa' nuffin but homespun jeens. Den 
 he g-ot de same collar on. 'Twas so higvh it come to 
 liis ears, an' I speck de nig-g-er had his ears insured, 
 kase dey stan' in dang-er of bein' cut off by de collar. 
 Den he g-ot a long- white rag- tied roun' his neck, an' 
 on his nappy head he g-ot a two story hat, an' under 
 dat hat he g-ot a great big* flat nose an' thick lips, an' 
 de red ob de lips outshine de redhot color ob de fire. 
 
4 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE NEGRO, 
 
 Den de white ob his eyes shine like two pewter plates 
 stuck in a black stump. An' when he speak he cotch 
 his bref an' spout out froth like dey say Jona did when 
 he in de whale's belly. 
 
 Den I goes to hear 'im preach in de big- church, an* 
 he open his mouf wide an' holler so loud dat he bring 
 de blood from my ears. Now, old 'oman, Jesus Christ 
 did not holler dat loud when he preach under dat big- 
 oak tree to five thousand folks. Den de women dey 
 commenced sing-in', and dey like to take de roof off 'n 
 de house. Now dey keep dat up all day an' nig-ht, till 
 de chicken cock tell dem to g-o home — it's time to go 
 to work. Den he 'duced me to he wife. He say, 
 "Jim, dis my wife." I say, "Whar dat odder 'owan 
 you got?" He say, "I aint got no odder." I say, 
 4 'I know better den dat ; kase all niggers are 'lowed 
 two wives, an' de preachers dey 'lowed mo'." 
 
 Den de next nigger I see tells me he's a politi- 
 tioner, an' he stan's on side de street an' say he gwine 
 vote for 'Kinley, kase he set de nig'ger free. Says I, 
 " 'Kinley didn't do dat. God A'mighty set de nigger 
 free, and tells 'im to ' root, little pig, or die. ' But de 
 nigger beat God A'mighty dat time, for he say, 'I 
 gwine steal ; dat's easier dan work.' " Well, dis nig- 
 ger say: "Dat's what I want. Don't you know 
 when we used to go out nights and steal de white 
 folks' chickens an' hogs? Now I'se gwine to Con- 
 
FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT. 5 
 
 gress, an' I'll pass a law dat niggers who steal chick- 
 ens shall draw a pension for de balance ob deir lives." 
 Now if I vote for dis nigger, befo' he gone to Congress 
 
 THE NEGRO FARMER. 
 
 de white folks have me in the penitentiary, an' I's 
 workin' harder an' g*it mo' whippin's dan I did in de 
 slavery time. 
 
6 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE) NEGRO, 
 
 Now comes anodder nig-g-er, an' he say He de 
 teacher. He lams de little nig-g-er to chang-e his skin 
 an' put on de white skin. I say, " Teacher, you ain't 
 g-ot de sense you been bo'n wid. Don't you know de 
 Book say de African can't chang-e his skin ? Den how 
 you g-wine do it?" "I jest tell you how we g-wine do 
 it. We sends 'em to Paris wid de white ladies an' 
 have 'em done over. " Now I done ax dis nig-g-er what 
 he's kickin' 'bout de white folks for when he wants to 
 make de nig-g-er white. 
 
 Now I g-oes to de colleg-e to see de little nig-g-ers, how 
 dey does. De fust thing- I sees is all de boys marchin' 
 two by two down de steps, den comes de g-als de same 
 way. Den dey g-o into de rooms an' sets down on de 
 benches wid de hig-h backs, fernent a little table. 
 Dey so fine dey dunno how to 'habe deirselves, for dey 
 jes' look at me like I some wild beast. Dey ain't g-ot 
 de manners dey been born wid in de old slavery times. 
 
 Now I say to de principal : "I wants to ax you a 
 few questions. I sees you have de big- house an' all de 
 'purtenances dareto belong-in'. Where dey all come 
 from? I say in old slave times I used to g-o wid my 
 young- master to school to tote his basket dat he eat 
 his dinner outen. Den arter he eat I g-it de balance, 
 an' de balance was mo'n you have at your fine table. 
 Now, Mr. Teacher, de school house was three miles 
 from Master's big- house, an' de boy walks it every 
 
FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT. 
 
 7 
 
 day in de week 'cept Saturdays. Den de school house 
 was a roun' log cabin wid a rough plank floor. I hear 
 de chilluns 'cite de lessons to de teacher, an' dey was 
 
 smart little boys an' g*als, an' when dey misbehave de 
 teacher he comes down on dem wid de switch he keep 
 in de corner for deir benefit. Xow dese chilluns 
 
8 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE) NEGRO, 
 
 grow up an' dey make smart men and women." Den 
 I says : "How 'tis dat dese chilluns make such smart 
 people when dey gwine to school in de cabin? I don't 
 see dat dese chilluns gwine make no better folks dan 
 Master's, kase you know Daniel Webster, Clay an' 
 Calhoun went to school in dese cabins. Now if dey 
 don't, den I say it's not de fine college dat make de 
 man an' de 'oman, but de brains dat's in deir heads. 
 Now, Mr. Teacher, I done ax you dis question : If 
 de brains is not in de nigger's head can de fine college 
 put 'em dar? Answer me dat question." He say, 
 "No." Den I say: "What's de use castin' pearls 
 'fore swine, like young Master read in de good book." 
 Den I ax him how he got all dis fine stuff. He say 
 dey git it outen de white folks' taxes. Den I ax him 
 who make de law to git de money outen de white folks. 
 He say de white folks do it deirselves. Den I say de 
 white folks must be mighty good to de nigger to give 
 him sich a fine college when he done let his own chil- 
 luns go to school in de log cabin. 
 
 Den I say : "Don't you think dese little niggers 
 better be home workin' in de truck patch makin' 
 somethin' to put in deir hungry bellies dan to be here 
 puttin' all in de head? When you see dese chilluns 
 comin' 'round jes' look out for de tater patch, for dey 
 done larn to steal by science, an' you can't cotch 
 'em." 
 
FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT. 
 
 9 
 
 " Now, Mr. Teacher, I g-wine ax you dis question : 
 My nabor he got a mule dat's smarter dan any ob you 
 chilluns. He g-wine stay m de woods all day, an' 
 when nig-ht come he g-wine throw down de fence an' 
 
 the; negro professor. 
 
 let hisself in de co'n field, an' all de stock dat is in de 
 neig-hborhood done larn to follow him, so he takes all 
 in wid him, an' dey destroy ten acres ob co'n dat 
 nig-ht. Next mornin' when de nabor wake up he find 
 
10 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE NEGRO, 
 
 all de stock in de field, but de old mule he gone. He 
 lay in de woods hid in de bushes till night conies, den 
 he gwine do de same thing-. Now what you say ought 
 to be done widdat mule ? Kill him, ob co'se. No, dat 
 won't do, kase he good to work, an' make plenty for 
 hisself an' de whole family." 
 
 " Well, what do you say do wid him, Jim ? " 
 
 "I say keep dat mule in de lot. Make de fence 
 ten rails high, an' stake-an'-rider it so he can't git 
 out ; den he be useful an' can't steal, Den let de 
 white folks keep de nigger at home, an' don't turn 'em 
 out to come to town and steal people's stuff. Keep 
 him in his place ; dat's what I say." 
 
 From de college I's gwine down town to see what's 
 down dar. So I comes to de big store. I walks in 
 an' looks all round an' sees all de pretty things. I 
 'mired a heap on 'em. Den I looks at de hankerchers, 
 an' I see one great big red one dey use to call de ban- 
 dana. So I looks dis way an' den dat way, an' I sees 
 de man lookin' at de ladies, so my hands stick to de 
 hankercher so fast dat I can't let it loose, so I pick it 
 up an' put it in my pocket. I den turn to walk out de 
 door, when de man at de door say, ' ' Stop — you stole 
 my hankercher. " I say, * ' No ; I got no hankercher. 
 Den he run his hands in my pocket an' bring out de 
 hankercher. I say, "Dat hankercher done jump in 
 my pocket befo' I knows it." But he say, "Stand 
 
FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT. 
 
 11 
 
 here," an' lie call anodder man an' say, "'Rest him; 
 he stole a hankercher from me." Den he show de man 
 de hankercher, an' he says, "Come go wid me. " I 
 
 THE NEGRO LAWYER. 
 
 tell him, " 'Sense me, please sir; I hain't got time, 
 kase de train gwine start soon. ' ' He cotch me by de 
 arm an' say, "I'm gwine take you to de lockup." 
 
12 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE) NEGRO, 
 
 Well, he takes me to what dey calls de jail, an' 
 keep me dar all night, wid nuffin to lay on nor nuffin 
 to eat. Next mornin' he take me to what he call de 
 magister. Den jes' as I'm gwine in a big- fat nigger 
 say, "I'm a lawyer, an' I git you outen dis scrape for 
 five dollars." I say, "I got no five dollars, neider 
 can you get me outen dis scrape, kase de white man 
 put me in, an' he got mo' sense dan you." 
 
 Now de magister say, "Jim, you are charged wid 
 
 stealin' a hankercher from Mr. . Are you 
 
 guilty or not guilty?" I say, "What you mean by 
 dat word guilty ? ' ' The magister 'splained : ' ' Guilty 
 means dat you stole de hankercher." "No, sir; de 
 man done got de hankercher hisself, kase he took it 
 outen my pocket. " "Den you stole it." "How's I 
 gwine steel it when I didn't take it away? De man 
 got it now." "But you intended to take it away." 
 "Den I got to be tried for de 'tention an' not for de 
 hankercher. Den I leave de 'tention wid you an' de 
 hankercher wid de man, an' I goes home to tell de old 
 'oman. " "But stop," says de Squire, "dere is a 
 cost in dis suit of three dollars you must pay." "I's 
 tell you de hankercher cost me nuffin, an' I takes no 
 suit; dey 're all in de store now." "Well, Jim, you 
 must go back to jail or pay de cost. If you haven't 
 got de money you must work it out on de streets." 
 "I's got no money kase I bought a round trip ticket." 
 
FROM A NEGRO'S STANDPOINT. 
 
 13 
 
 Now I goes to work on de streets. De man what 
 goes 'long- wid me he have a cudgel : n his hand, an' 
 he say, "Step quick, Jim, or I'll whack you over de 
 head." I say, "Dat's mo'n de overseer say when I 
 was a slave. Now I's free, sir, and you shan't talk to 
 me dat w T ay. " I stops and squares myself, when he 
 take de cudgel an' fotch me sich a lick dat I'll 'mem- 
 ber it all my life. So I goes at what de solders say is 
 double quick. I works out de six days, stayin' in de 
 jail at night an' eatin' cold corn bread an' pork. 
 Mighty good after a hard day's work, if you can g*it 
 muff by it. 
 
 * * 
 
 Now we think that we have given sufficient evi- 
 dence to prove that the negro was not capable of tak- 
 ing- in his surrounding's and discarding his old slavery 
 clothes and putting on his master's cloth suit. Had 
 he been left free to make his own contracts for his 
 labor, and have staid on the plantations where he was 
 born and raised, and where he had enjoyed all the 
 fruits of his labor, he would have been in far better 
 condition than he is. While he was in slavery he was 
 enjoying more privileges and advancing faster in civ- 
 ilization under a free government than many other 
 peoples, red and white, were advancing. He had the 
 right to choose whatever denomination he wished 
 without having it forced upon him by imperial power to 
 
14 
 
 THE STATUS OF THE NEGRO, 
 
 have but one faith. This freedom of religious thought 
 he learned from his constant association with the 
 white people. Therefore his slavery brought to him a 
 free religion, which was a good compensation for his 
 slavery. 
 
 Jim goes home satisfied that freedom does not free 
 him from either punishment or labor, and settles him- 
 self down to make a living by honest work, and learns 
 the lesson to keep away from the city. 
 
A TILLING TRAGEDY 
 
 IX THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 A TRAGIC SCENE ON A PLANTATION IN TUNICA 
 COUNTY, MISS. 
 
 Just upon the public road that leads from Helena, 
 Arkansas, to Austin, Mississippi, stood a beautiful 
 country cottage house that had been occupied before 
 the civil war by a gentleman planter and his family. 
 They were all educated, refined and cultivated people, 
 members of the old school Presbyterian church, and 
 brought up in that faith by their earliest ancestors. 
 This elegant country residence was just five miles 
 above Helena and one mile from the Mississippi river. 
 
 After the war the family domiciled on this planta- 
 tion, for they were citizens of Arkansas. The planta- 
 tion was cultivated after the war by a portion of the 
 old slaves that were born to the family and some hired 
 free men. The planter was prosperous for some 
 years, both himself and his employes having nothing 
 to do with politics, never going to an election or voting 
 
16 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 for any party, strictly attending- to their own busi- 
 ness. So corrupt had society become, by the free- 
 dom of the negro, with his privileg-e of voting-, that it 
 became necessary for their safety that they move back 
 to Helena. This they did in the fall of 1870. From 
 this time up to 1882 the business was conducted by a 
 manag-er. In the fall of that year the manag-er left 
 the place without informing- the planter of his inten- 
 tion of doing- so. 
 
 The writer, who now becomes the hero of his story, 
 moved on the plantation in October, taking- with 
 him his wife and a true trusty servant man, who had 
 remained with the family and claimed nothing- but his 
 former position in the family. We took with us a few 
 cooking- vessels and a cow to g-ive us milk. 
 
 On our arrival at the plantation we saw the fields 
 white with the fleecy staple, hanging- low in the bolls, 
 with an inviting- appearance for the picker. I had to 
 be taken over in a two horse wag-on on a larg-e feather 
 bed, as I was just recovering- from a severe spell of 
 sickness. 
 
 Now for the position of the house. It stood a little 
 back from the road. A veranda stretched itself the 
 whole leng-th of the east side. The two north rooms 
 were occupied in days of yore as double parlors, with 
 sliding doors between. The south side was taken up 
 by a bedroom, nursery and kitchen. There were two 
 
IN THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 17 
 
 windows in the bedroom, facing- the east, and four in 
 the other rooms, looking* south. The parlor, as said 
 before, was the north room, but the large window was 
 in the east middle of the room. It was built in the 
 days when the ladies wanted dark parlors, for what 
 reason the writer cannot say ; whether to prevent close 
 inspection of their figure and face, or for some other 
 good reason, the writer will make no comment at this 
 late day. If it was for any safety of person it had its 
 origin, it certainly served its purpose in the tragic 
 event about to be related. 
 
 A bed was set up in this parlor, adjacent to this 
 window, and the writer lay thereon, the better that 
 he might see the laborers as they passed on the public 
 road and engage them to pick cotton. Many had been 
 secured in this way. My wife had the cooking and 
 weighing of the cotton to do, as it was some time be- 
 fore I was able to attend to the weighing. About the 
 middle of November a man and his family were pass- 
 ing on the road, when I hailed to him from the window 
 and asked him if he wanted to work. He said that he 
 did. I told him to come in and I would speak with 
 him. He approached the room with a double barrelled 
 shotgun on his shoulders and a coonskin cap on his 
 head. His clothes were well worn. His aspect and 
 demeanor were not that of a gentleman, nor did he 
 carry an honest face. On looking at his hands I 
 
18 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 discovered they had not been used to hard labor, but 
 had more the appearance of a man who made his wife 
 and children do the hard labor while he indulged him- 
 self with the lighter employment of hunting- or fishing*. 
 
 We soon came to terms about the cotton picking, 
 and he took a cabin on the road about half a mile from 
 the house. My wife reported the next day that his 
 wife and son and daughter had entered the cotton field 
 and were busy at their work. I did not expect she 
 would find the man out of his place, for he had no 
 place where money was to be made by honest labor, as 
 he had struck me as being a man of vile temper, if not 
 of vicious habits. The sequel of this story will prove 
 that I had not misjudged the man, as he had both. 
 
 This man was not seen on the plantation in the day 
 time, except on Saturdays, when he came to draw the 
 wages for his family. As said before, my wife had to 
 weigh the cotton, and as it was her first experience 
 she had no thought of the tricks that would be played 
 upon her. Mud made up in large cakes, heavy irons, 
 and bags filled with sand were placed in the center of 
 the baskets. Some four or five thousand pounds of 
 this "tricky" cotton had been weighed up and paid 
 for at one dollar per hundred. How much or how lit- 
 tle of this cotton "cheat" was attributable to this 
 family the writer does not know, but suppose they 
 came in for their share. 
 
IN THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 19 
 
 Now comes the detail of this tragic story we have 
 taken the winding- road to reach. 
 
 On Saturday morning the man came to get his pay 
 for the week's picking*. He said he wished to go over 
 to Helena to make some purchases. I had paid out all 
 the small change I had, which still left me in debt to 
 him two dollars. I gave him a five dollar bill and 
 told him he could bring me the change. He took the 
 bill and said he would do so. I had quite a large roll 
 of money in my hand at the time, some twenty dollar 
 bills. I saw he looked at the roll quizzically, as if to 
 say, "I would like to have the pile." 
 
 As said before, he always entered the house with 
 a shotgun on his shoulder. This time he was doubly 
 armed by a six shooter, girted close to his side. He 
 left the room without the formal goodbye. I was 
 much fatigued by the many settlements I had made 
 that day, as my wife had gone to Helena to attend to 
 business and make arrangements for selling the cot- 
 ton. Before moving to the plantation my wife had 
 taken two motherless children, a boy and a girl. The 
 boy was about eight and the girl six years old. She 
 had left them with me to care for until her return, 
 which was after the tragic affair. 
 
 The man returned in the evening about 4 o'clock 
 very much intoxicated. He came to the gate and 
 called to my man to tell me to come out there. He 
 
20 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 told him I was sick, and said to the little boy who 
 stood on the gallery in front of the window to tell me 
 the man wanted me to come to the gate. He said to 
 the servant, "I told you to go, sir," at the same time 
 advancing with an ax handle, striking him over the 
 head and cutting a severe gash, from which the blood 
 flowed freely. The servant man had an armful of 
 shucks for the cow, but he did not throw them down or 
 resent the stroke. I saw this from the window, and 
 called to the servant to throw away his shucks and de- 
 fend himself, at the same time saying, "Are you go- 
 ing to stand there and let the man beat you to death? " 
 At this moment he threw away his shucks, jerked the 
 ax handle out of his antagonist's hands, and struck him 
 a blow on the head which was equal to if not greater 
 than the one he had received. 
 
 At this the man ran towards his cabin, and in a 
 short time three men, all on horseback, made their 
 appearance with double barrelled guns and pistols. I 
 had gone into the kitchen with the children ; was 
 standing between the two openings when I was fired 
 at by the intruder, and came near being hit. I saw 
 that I was in a dangerous place, and retreated with 
 the children through the hall to the front door, which 
 I found open. I shut it, and at the same time discov- 
 ered an ax standing by the door. This I seized, 
 pulled it through, and locked the door. It was all the 
 
IN THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 21 
 
 weapon I had, and all I wanted on this , occasion. 
 Pushing- the children into the parlor by the hall door 
 I locked it, and took my stand, ax in hand, between 
 the window and the hall door. 
 
 By this time the men had gotten around in front of 
 the window and were shooting- throug-h it at me. But 
 as I was in the close corner of the room, between the 
 door and the window, I discovered their shots had 
 taken effect in the sliding- door of the parlor. After 
 several shots of this kind, only varying- in space, they 
 changed their position and fired from the south side of 
 the window. Just before this shot the little boy had 
 become alarmed and ran out into the middle of the 
 room. I saw the danger he was in, and jumped at 
 him and threw him under the bed, and his sister also. 
 While I was doing* this a slug shot passed me and 
 struck over the mantel, cutting a hole that was large 
 enough to admit your fist. 
 
 I quickly secured my position in the corner, though 
 never turning loose my faithful ax. The armed men 
 then came up in single file, and the first man attempted 
 to enter the room. I said to him, "Come in and I will 
 split your head wide. open. " He jumped back, think- 
 ing I would make a lick at him, but I kept a firm grip 
 upon the ax. The next effort was to burst open the 
 front door and make an entrance into the hall, think- 
 ing to be able to enter the room. They succeeded in 
 
22 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 entering- the hall, but finding- the room door closed 
 they returned to the window, and, twisting- their g-uns 
 around, fired several shots at me with like effect as 
 before. 
 
 Finding- my position impreg-nable, they ag-ain tried 
 to force an entrance throug-h the door of the room 
 which entered into the hall. They forced it partially 
 open, and the foremost man put his hand throug-h the 
 crack. I said, "lam not g-oing- to make a stroke at 
 your hand ; put your head throug-h— that is what I am 
 after — I want to split it wide open ; I am not afraid 
 of you. ' ' 
 
 This shooting- had been gfoing- on for about two 
 hours when I heard one of them say, "We have killed 
 him; I saw him fall." It was now growing dark, 
 and a heavy black cloud was g-athering in the south- 
 east. I heard the fellow say, " Let's g-et on our horses 
 and g-et away ; they will be after us soon." By this 
 time some neig-hbors who lived about a mile distant 
 heard the firing-, and supposed it was the negroes shoot- 
 ing- off their pistols as they were accustomed to do Sat- 
 urday evening's. But one of them said, 4 ' There is too 
 much shooting- ; let's g-o over and see. " Before they 
 reached the place the men had made their escape 
 through the cotton field under cover of the dark cloud 
 and rain. 
 
IN THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 23 
 
 As I saw them going- through the cotton field I re- 
 treated through the back door with the children. By 
 this time the rain was pouring* down in torrents, and 
 the night was the blackness of darkness. To get to 
 the neighbor's house without traveling the public 
 road a part of the way — which I was afraid to do lest 
 I come in contact with them — was another thought. 
 The little girl I had to take in my arms, as she was 
 too small to keep up with the boy and myself. I con- 
 cluded to make the journey through the woods, and 
 follow a path with which I was familiar, though it 
 was half a mile further than the public road. I could 
 only see the path by the flashes of lightning as they 
 illuminated our way. There was a long boggy la- 
 goon to be crossed, and the water part of it had to be 
 crossed on a tree that stretched itself across for the 
 benefit of pedestrians. Often had I to stop on this 
 tree to await the vivid flashes of lightning that illumi- 
 nated our path. Nearly exhausted with my load of 
 precious live stock, I came near falling off the log. 
 But by the direction of a kind providence we made our 
 way safely over the lagoon and struck the path on the 
 opposite side. It was now nearly a mile to the house, 
 but we could see the fires burning in the cabins, which 
 were a feeble guide for us. By this time the little girl 
 began to be impatient at her restrained position, and 
 the little boy was fretting and wanted to stop and 
 
24 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 rest. He said lie was being- drowned with the rain. 
 However, we paddled along- throug-h the mud and 
 water until we reached the house. 
 
 We found no white persons on the premises. The 
 owner of the place was a bachelor, and he and all the 
 white men had g-one over to my place to see what the 
 trouble was. Seeing- the house shot to pieces, resem- 
 bling- an old fort that had stood the fire of the enemy's 
 g-uns, but had been evacuated because it could hold out 
 no long-er, they determined to know the truth of the 
 matter. They went throug-h the falling- rain to a ne- 
 gro's house, who g-ave them the story of the shoot- 
 ing-. They determined to follow the would be mur- 
 derers and hang- them to a limb, with feet upwards. 
 In vain they pursued them nearly all nig-ht, and came 
 in just before daylig-ht to g-et fresh horses and dry 
 clothing- to renew their chase. 
 
 The writer had g-otten the children to bed, and 
 they were taking- a g-ood sleep after their perilous 
 journey and frig-ht. I told the whole story to the 
 men. They waited until daylig-ht, and then, with all 
 the negro men and mules on the place, and all on 
 mine, they set out afresh in pursuit of the crim- 
 inals. But these men knew the woods and by ways 
 too well to be caug-ht. It is said that they boarded a 
 steamer about twenty-five miles up the river, and 
 have never been seen nor heard of since, except by a 
 
IN THE DAYS OF RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 25 
 
 traveling* man, who said the leader had been convicted 
 of horse stealing- in Alabama and had broken jail and 
 escaped, for whom there was a heavy reward. 
 
 One of the men that was with the leader had come 
 into his cabin the nig-ht before. I saw him next morn- 
 ing-. He was half French and half negro, with black 
 hair, small black eyes, and skin nearly the same color. 
 Doubtless they were a trio of thieves, robbers and 
 murderers. 
 
 But what say you of that, since all the devils cast 
 out were coming- into the bottom lands to take shelter 
 in the cane brakes ! 
 
 What became of the servant man ? On the first 
 fire into the kitchen window he fled out of the back 
 door and hid himself in an outer house and remained 
 there until the neighbors came. When I saw him the 
 next da}^ I said to him : ' ' Well, old fellow, what did the 
 bear say to you when he whispered in your ear? Did 
 he not tell you not to forsake a friend in time of need ? 
 You see all' my trouble was on your account. If you 
 had stood your ground we could have whipped those 
 fellows and captured three desperadoes." "But," 
 said he, "they all had g-uns and pistols and we had 
 none, and I thoug-ht they would kill us both. They 
 were all drinking. " " But, ' ' said I, "I was defending 
 you as well as myself. It was a cowardly act in you, 
 and you ought to be ashamed of it. " 
 
26 
 
 A THRIVING TRAGEDY 
 
 The grand jury indicted the men, but they were 
 never caught ; nor were any of the eleven murderers, 
 who had killed that many men in that neighborhood, 
 the Mississippi river forming a line for their escape 
 into Arkansas and Texas. 
 
 One of the best men I ever knew was cut all to 
 pieces by a negro at night, who made his escape by 
 crossing the river, and was never heard of afterwards. 
 These things took place in Christian America. Are 
 the Philippinos doing any worse? 
 
ANNIVERSARY 
 
 OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 [Read before the Little Rock Medical Society.] 
 
 On the nineteenth of February, eig-hteen twenty-four, 
 A child was born in the days of yore ; 
 He is now seventy-six, and has learned many bad 
 tricks, 
 
 As all will do who have lived so long-, 
 
 And with increasing* years have become so strong- 
 
 In doing* many thing's that are so wrong-. 
 
 He now confesses, with shame of face, 
 
 That with the g-ood he has not kept pace, 
 
 But has wandered far from the path of right 
 
 And let reason sometimes take its flight ; 
 
 But in reviewing- his course of so many years, 
 
 He has found them filled with many fears. 
 
 Sometimes an operation he would perform, 
 
 When reason taug-ht him he'd spoil the form 
 
 Of some sweet g-irl — her mother's delight — 
 
 To become the sacrifice of a scientific figfht. 
 
 Of mistakes many he has made, 
 
 And some of them quite sad, 
 
 For he fears that some were sent to their graves, 
 
28 
 
 ANNIVERSARY OE MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 And buried long- before their days. 
 How many he's killed no tongue can tell, 
 As death keeps her own secrets when she bids us 
 farewell. 
 
 Now comes the time in my professional career I must 
 start. 
 
 'Twas in eighteen forty-nine that I made up my mind 
 To take the scalpel and handle it well, 
 As I had been taught in days of old surgery 
 To cut a tumor in very good humor, 
 To make my patient well, as many can tell 
 Who fell under the blade of the vile scalpel. 
 Now the saddle bags I must firmly grasp, 
 And take a jaunt to the country — fast — 
 To see some sick dame, 
 And with the lancet open a vein 
 And relieve her of her violent pain. 
 Then comes the medicine. What shall it be ? 
 A draught, or a purge, to make her bowels surge, 
 Or an anodine, to take in time, 
 That modern surgeons call very fine, 
 For this will relieve her pain, you see, 
 Until I return and by the morning's light 
 Discover what a mistake I made last night. 
 This first case of mine was quite divine, 
 As it took the whole day and the rest of my time. 
 The welkin rung with many screams from her surg- 
 ing chest, 
 
 While the doctor ran with all his might 
 To hide himself under the shadows of night, 
 For the child was born on a frosty night. 
 
ANNIVERSARY OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 29 
 
 The next morning- he heard that a boy was born, 
 
 And that the woman was not forlorn, 
 
 For she did not die when the child was born. 
 
 This young- doctor did take fright, 
 
 For the child was born on a frosty night. 
 
 Now comes a bad case the doctor to try, 
 
 And take the blemish out of the eye. 
 
 'Twas a g-irl of fair complexion — brig-ht — 
 
 Who was led around by friends at night. 
 
 Her eyes had become dimmed by the loss of sight, 
 
 By cataract there, 
 
 And spoiled her face, which was so fair. 
 
 His steady hand he must prepare, 
 
 To take the cataract out of the eye. 
 
 He quickly grasps the knife at last 
 
 And cuts away, as in days that have passed. 
 
 One eye he tries at this time, 
 
 But never thinks of putting it in rhyme. 
 
 He restores the one by special sleight, 
 
 Then comes his fame to make his name bright, 
 
 And make the old ladies talk at night 
 
 Of what wonderful skill he did possess, 
 
 To restore the blind to her former sisfht. 
 
 His name was in the mouths of all around, 
 
 Who lived at ease in this little town. 
 
 Now comes the other eye he must restore, 
 
 And this must be done as in days of yore. 
 
 He did not couch, as in modern style, 
 
 But depressed the tumor all the while. 
 
 The operation succeeded, as in the other eye, 
 
 And then he came in for the chicken pie, 
 
30 
 
 ANNIVERSARY OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 For from this operation his fame did go 
 
 To puzzle the mind of his jealous foe. 
 
 Many dollars he accumulated in this way, 
 
 To lay up for a rainy day. 
 
 So now you have the first of my skill, 
 
 And I'll take the comments at your good will. 
 
 To the old code of ethics I've firmly stood, 
 
 Believing- none other half so good, 
 
 For it keeps me pure in my professional career 
 
 To set my compass the ship to steer. 
 
 It makes me what a gentleman should be, 
 
 To keep the right and from the wrong to flee, 
 
 To put jealousy far from my breast, 
 
 For it was born in the devil's nest. 
 
 It brings out the purest thoughts of my mind, 
 
 And makes me both gentle and kind ; 
 
 To treat my fellows with courtesy pure, 
 
 And disdain the things that quacks adore. 
 
 You see I have given you my fame in rhyme, 
 
 Of the famous things I did in olden time, 
 
 When fame was not gained by foolish rhyme, 
 
 But by dint of application, strong and free, 
 
 That those who looked might readily see, 
 
 For 'twas on a foundation laid by skill 
 
 That secured an expression of very good will. 
 
 So upon this foundation I've built my character, 
 
 And it has stood until times of late, 
 
 When the old man must bemoan his fate, 
 
 To call all he knows out of date. 
 
 'Tis sad to think one's out of date 
 
 When he recalls the things of late, 
 
ANNIVERSARY OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 31 
 
 Which are so much out of time 
 
 They would not make a decent rh}-me. 
 
 Of theories many we have in state, 
 
 To tell of the wonderful things of late ; 
 
 They tell ; you must a pessimist be, 
 
 For they look after thing-s much less than a flea. 
 
 A germ is found for everything*, 
 
 And you must believe it or take the sting 
 
 Of the scientific scourge that comes with the ring-. 
 
 These theories are of ancient date, 
 
 But have come in these }-ears of late 
 
 To pose as something* new, you see ; 
 
 But they cannot deceive you and me, 
 
 For we traveled that path in days of yore, 
 
 To learn that little fishes must keep close to the shore. 
 
 We did not g*o out in the midst of the sea 
 
 To discover what there should be, 
 
 But kept ourselves closely confined, 
 
 To take a theory one at a time 
 
 And bring* it down to practical thought, 
 
 Which we thought was so dearly bought, 
 
 For it cost us many a day of idle time 
 
 To bring out the thing that was out of time 
 
 To practical use without abuse 
 
 And make it of use to human kind. 
 
 But of this effort many did fail, 
 
 And then comes the professional wail. 
 
 Then all cry out, "A failure it is," 
 
 And the man dies out with professional ills. 
 
 A synopsis of this rhyme would be 
 
 As foolish, as you all can see, 
 
32 
 
 ANNIVERSARY OF MY SEVENTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 
 
 As theories brought from dark to light 
 By a microscopic view at night. 
 Some fads we have in days of late, 
 
 But to keep up with them requires a commercial 
 estate. 
 
 They flounder and flutter, but break at our will, 
 As all fads do when exposed to our skill, 
 For we are taught the truth and to stick to its lines, 
 And pay no attention to the would be divines. 
 
 TENTATIVE PRACTICE. 
 
 Mistakes must be made when tentative we use, 
 And this sort of practice we cannot refuse, 
 As it gives us experience the ills to cure, 
 And makes our practice much more sure 
 Of robbing the grave of its victims by score. 
 And now I'm come to my days at last, 
 And withered like a thing of grass ; 
 And when the summons comes to die 
 I would not from its portals fly, 
 Not like the culprit, scourged to his den, 
 Scourged by thoughts of evil he's done, 
 But like some good man, his conscience to bear, 
 When he sits down in his old arm chair, 
 My hope to gain, in the world to come, 
 As many who have gone before me have done. 
 These thoughts of mine have become crystalized by 
 time, 
 
 As I have drawn them from things divine ; 
 And now I give them to you in the rough, 
 And think I hear you cry, "Hold ! enough." 
 
1 
 
 I