Octavia

Just before the beginning of the civil war between the States there was a large and valuable plantation on the Alabama River on which there were several hundred slaves, said farm being in what is known as the "black belt of Alabama," having a river front of several miles, and annually producing five hundred bales of cotton, fifteen thousand bushels of corn, besides oats, wheat, hay, mules, horses, hogs, cattle, sheep and goats in abundance.

This mammoth farm belonged to Hon. R., then a member of the United States Congress from Alabama, and afterwards a gallant officer in the Confederate army, rising from the rank of first lieutenant to colonel, by which latter title he will be known in this story. He lived in what was then one of the flourishing towns of the State, but which has long since gone to ruin and decay. Colonel R.'s farm was managed by what was then known as an "overseer," but now would be termed a superintendent. He had assistants, white and black, who, with the overseer, managed the farm in a systematic and scientific manner, bringing it up to a high state of cultivation, which made it one of the most productive and valuable in the State.

Colonel R., with his man in livery, a thousand-dollar carriage and finely caparisoned span of horses, visited his farm once a month when at home, to give general directions to his overseer, and receive the annual proceeds of his cotton crop. This was the state of affairs when Lincoln was elected President, when the Southern States seceded from the Union, and when the guns at Fort Sumter belched forth their shot and shell, ushering in a war that had no equal in ancient or modern times.

When the call to arms was made Colonel R. resigned his seat in the Federal Congress, hastened home, raised and equipped a company, which rendered valuable service in the Southern army. Colonel R.'s overseer and his white assistants also responded to the call, joining the company which Colonel R. equipped. Thus was Colonel R.'s farm deprived of white men, and as every able-bodied man was needed at the front, it was out of the question to replace them; nor did he make any effort to do so. However, Colonel R. was not wanting for some one to take charge of his business; he had a quadroon named Simon, who had been carefully trained and drilled by the overseer in farm management. He had been a favorite with the overseer, who made no objection to his fourteen-year-old son teaching him to read and write. He also taught Simon's sister, Elsie. They were both bright quadroons, good looking, and exceptionally intelligent for slaves.

Let me say here that if the planters had any inclination to teach their slaves, the latter had no time but at night to learn, and after working from the time they could see in the morning until they could not see at night, they felt like sleeping when reaching their cabins. However, here and there you would find a negro who could read and write, who generally received such instruction from their owner's or overseer's children.

Simon was twenty-five and Elsie eighteen years of age, both having the same mother, Aunt Dinah, and the same white father.

After the overseer and his assistants left for the army Colonel R. installed Simon as his foreman, with the authority of an overseer. Under his administration farm matters moved along as well as they did under the overseer. In slavery times there was always a negro head man, leader and squire among the negroes, who performed their marriage ceremonies (without license), exhorted at their religious meetings and could sing and pray and be heard a mile. Simon could "out-Herod Herod" in doing all this. He was faithful, honest and upright, three virtues rare among negroes. He successfully kept the farm books, in which were to be recorded the number of pounds of cotton picked per day; the number and weight of each bale of cotton-in a word, this book gave the exact production of the farm, whether it was stock, cotton, corn or what not.

He was provided with a horse and whip, two concomitants that every ante-bellum overseer possessed. Simon felt his importance, and probably was too severe in some instances in using the lash on the slaves. This, however, is characteristic of the negro, as they have since freedom been known to almost whip their children to death. The writer has interfered several times where negro parents were unmercifully chastising their children.

Aunt Dinah, Simon's mother, was rather prepossessing in appearance, and was the plantation mammy, nurse and midwife, as well as the keeper of the orphan asylum for all the little pickaninnies on the plantation. Every place of any size had this character. It is often and truly said that it is the ambition of negro men to be preachers and of the women to be midwives.

Simon had interceded with his master and the overseer to exempt Elsie from farm work, and to appoint her seamstress, who had several assistants on the farm. She was very apt with the needle and scissors, cutting and making any garment she wished, and doing it all with the needle, this being before the introduction of sewing machines on plantations.

In the eyes of Simon and his mother Elsie was a piece of perfection, a paragon of virtue and chastity, two possessions rare among negroes of both sexes. Elsie was the belle of the plantation, having a large number of suitors, among them two of Colonel R.'s slaves, Brutus and C?sar.

They were rivals and had an intense hatred for each other on Elsie's account. While Elsie had no idea of accepting either one or any negro, saying that she did not want a "kinky-headed nigger," she encouraged the attentions of both-a consummate flirt, to say the least. Brutus and C?sar were good specimens of their race, and fairly good looking. Their rivalry increased in intensity and bitterness until they threatened each other's lives.

At this stage of their would-be courtship Simon interfered and told them that, as Elsie was a prize worth contending for, they had to fight a fair fight in the ring, and that he would bestow Elsie upon the victor. The time was appointed for the contest, referees chosen, and all the negroes on the plantation assembled to witness something à la Corbett and Fitzsimmons. The battle was fierce, a battle royal; they were contending for the heart and hand of the beautiful Elsie. Neither was able to get the mastery over the other. Both could well say, "Lay on, Macduff! and damned be him who first cries hold, enough!" At times it looked as if Brutus would be victorious, at another, C?sar.

After they had pounded and bruised each other considerably, and both being well nigh exhausted, the match was called off, and Simon threatened each with a severe lashing if he heard of their fussing any more about Elsie, as she would not marry either one of them. This threat and declaration that Elsie would marry neither embittered the combatants against Simon, both declaring sotto voce that they would get even with him yet; that they were as good as he was; that his head was as "kinky" as theirs, and that while they were rivals and personal enemies, they would make common cause against him and kill the bigoted "nigger driver" if he "monkeyed with them."

About a year before this prize fight the "kernel," as his slaves called Colonel R., obtained a furlough to visit his home and plantation. He expressed himself to Simon as being highly pleased at the manner in which he conducted plantation affairs, saying the farm books were neatly kept, stock sleek and fat, cribs full of corn, smoke-houses full of meat, ditches cleaned out, briars kept out of the fence corners-in fact, he saw no difference in his (Simon's) or the overseer's administration, and that he hoped that the work would move along as it was being done at that time.

Simon was glad to receive this commendation from his master, and promised that it would be his earnest endeavor to still merit the Colonel's approval.

Colonel R. had been in the army long enough to know that in the end the Confederacy would be beaten; he reasoned that the Southern States were hemmed in by a blockade that no ship of the Confederacy could break, and that they had to depend upon home resources for men, munitions and supplies, while the United States had not only themselves, but the whole world to draw upon. This was good, philosophic reasoning, and he determined to prepare for the collapse, which would be only a question of time. As there was no chance to sell cotton (there being an accumulation of two crops of the fleecy staple, amounting to about a thousand bales, on his place), he gave Simon explicit instructions to hide this cotton if there was any danger of the Federal army raiding that section of the State. He also intrusted to his keeping a large amount of gold which he had hoarded. He told Simon that if he were faithful to the trust he would reward him liberally-that if the Confederacy won he would give him his freedom and $10,000 in gold; and that if the United States won he would still give him the gold named above and make him superintendent on his farm at an annual salary of $2,000. As the sequel will show this compact was faithfully complied with by both parties, and for so doing Simon came near losing his life.

Colonel R. assembled all of his slaves and bade them an affectionate adieu, telling them to be faithful, industrious and diligent, and to be submissive to Simon's authority, and that if he was killed in battle, Mrs. R., his wife and their mistress, would have general supervision of the plantation. He was soon at the front and resumed command of his regiment. Between now and the close of hostilities it will be my endeavor to describe some of the scenes that were enacted on the Colonel's plantation. Elsie was still the belle and had suitors galore.

At every frolic she was the "cynosure of all eyes," the observed of all observers. She never wanted for a partner in the dance or play. Brutus and C?sar were still rivals and bitter enemies on her account, and at one of the plantation frolics they got into a fight, and C?sar was killed by Brutus driving an axe into C?sar's brain. Brutus fled and was a "runaway nigger" until the close of the war.

Simon had a pack of negro dogs which were soon in full cry on Brutus' track, who ran to the river and went up a tree bending over the water. The dogs were soon there and "treed" Brutus. Simon shortly arrived on the spot, thinking the dogs had Brutus up the tree. The dogs were there, the tree was there, and no doubt Brutus went up the tree, but he was not there. Simon gave up the chase, declaring that a negro who was sharp and strategical enough to climb a tree, and then jump into the river and swim across, would no doubt outwit the dogs, were he to take them across and continue the pursuit.

Elsie was thus relieved of her two most importunate and troublesome suitors-one dead and the other in the woods.

A negro is intensely religious, regardless of honesty and integrity; he will attend night services, shout, sing and pray, and then return home by some hen-roost and lift off a chanticleer which has been doing business at that stand for a half dozen years with as much nonchalance as if he, "Cuffee," were eating his dinner or taking a drink of water.

On this plantation there were two rival churches, Methodist and Baptist, and I would say here that, as a rule, Southern negroes belong to one or the other of these two large branches of the Christian Church.

During the summer these two churches held revival (and rival) services every night and Sunday for three or four weeks, at which there was a great awakening and a large ingathering of souls to the flock. For some reason it is thought the Methodist "nigger" can shout, sing and pray louder than his Baptist brother, while the latter can head him off in drinking whisky, which is counteracted by the Methodist brother's love for chickens and turkeys and their proclivities for lifting them off the roost.

At one of these night services, when everybody was happy, shouting, singing and praying, and the house was in an uproar and it seemed that pandemonium had turned loose, a large lighted lamp full of oil was turned over and exploded.

Negroes piled out of the windows and doors by the dozens. Some of the cooler heads pulled off their coats, and wrapping up the burning negroes, finally subdued the flames. Order was finally restored and all assembled again in the house. The pastor in charge then arose and said: "My bredderin an' sisterin, we is all run a narrer resk in bein' burn to deth, an' it shood be a terrible warnin' tu perpare for de burnin' dat awaits de ongodly, an' ef de richous am skasely saved whar shall de sinner an' ongodly appeer? Brudder Sam, you is de wus burnt nigger hear tu-nite, an' ef you keep on stealin' chickens you is gwine to go whar de wurm dieth not an' de fire is not squinched."

At this eloquent appeal on the part of the pastor moans and groans were heard all over the house, that have to be heard to be realized. Old Sister Ann, a two-hundred-and-fifty-pounder, got happy and began throwing her hands in the air, and popping them together, shouting, "Glory! Glory!" and started towards the pastor, saying, "Brudder Zeke, I'm so happy I wants tu hug you!" whereupon she gathered him, a weak man, in her herculean arms. He began to struggle to free himself from her vise-like grasp-she was about to squeeze the life out of him-but in vain! He then shouted for some one to "take her off! take her off!" Several of the brethren interfered and finally released the struggling pastor. After which he said: "Sister Ann, de wedder is tu hot, soap is tu scase, an' you is tu big an' fat tu git close to ennybody; so pleas kep yo' distunce."

Brother "Zeke," fearing a similar experience, announced services for the following night, and immediately dismissed the congregation. On the last Sunday of the meeting baptismal services were held at both churches, the Baptists assembling at the river to perform the rite by immersion, and the Methodists at their church to perform it by sprinkling or pouring.

At the latter church the pastor requested all the converts, which were fifty or sixty, to come forward to receive baptism, whereupon about a dozen responded. He stated that only about a fourth of the converts had come forward, and that if the rest were in the house they will now come forward and be baptized.

The preacher replied that he was very liberal in his views, and that he would baptize by sprinkling, pouring or immersion, and for each applicant to designate the mode, and it would be carried out. Those who had not come forward said that they "wanted tu go under de water." He said they would go to the river just as soon as he got through with those present. Whereupon those who had come forward told the preacher that as he had to go into the water they would be immersed also. The minister then announced for the congregation to assemble on the river to witness the baptisms. The Baptist and Methodist preachers reached the water about the same time, and after conferring with one another, agreed that the order would be for one minister to baptize one of his flock and the other one, and so on, alternately, until they were through. This took some time, as each had about fifty apiece to baptize. There was shouting and rejoicing during this baptismal scene. There were probably two thousand negroes present, those on adjoining plantations also being present. It is a fact that baptism in water will draw almost as large a crowd as a circus.

With the exception of shouting on the part of converts there was no noise or disturbance, and all went well until the last, the baptism of a large, fleshy sister, who, as she arose from the water clapped her hands and shouted: "I see my Jesus!" When she said this a negro, who had climbed into a willow tree leaning over the water, replied: "Yu lie, yu hypercritical old huzzie; tain't nuthin' but a snappin' mud turcle yu seed, an' hit's a pity he hadn't kotched yu by de nose an' drowned yu, so as yu would not tell lies enny more on 'spectable niggers." As he said this the tree broke, precipitating him into water twenty feet deep, and as he could not swim he went straight to the bottom. Both of the parsons were silent spectators of this last act, and were making for the shore as the congregation sang "Pull for the Shore." They had been fishers, as it were, of souls; now that an opportunity presented itself, they in reality would have to be fishers of men-at least one would have to be. The Methodist, thinking the Baptist more used to water than he, waited for the Baptist to strike out for the drowning man, and the Baptist did the same for the Methodist. The latter, seeing that the man would drown if no assistance were rendered, and being the nearest, swam to him. The drowning man grabbed him around the waist and both sank. The Baptist parson, being in the water, thought he was duty bound to render assistance, and swam to the scene just as they arose, when the Methodist grabbed the Baptist around the waist, and all three went under together. Things were getting serious, as it would be the third time the man went under. One of the men on shore succeeded in time to catch the first man, who was sinking the last time, by the hair, and by superhuman jerks released him from the parson and succeeded in carrying him to the shore. As this was being done another negro on shore swam and caught the exhausted Methodist parson by the wool, jerking him off from the Baptist, and carried him to shore. Another wicked negro on the bank shouted: "Fair play; I'll be darned if the Baptis' shell drown," and made for him, catching him by his cue and landing him safely on land. The congregation could have consistently sung, during the last three acts, "Pull for the Shore." As the submerged negroes were resting one skeptical darky shouted out, "You's all Baptis' now." Thus ended this baptismal and almost tragical scene.

Not long after this Simon's mother, Aunt Dinah, "went the way of all the earth, and was gathered to her fathers." This caused great mourning and lamentation on the plantation. The old auntie was almost looked upon with reverence. She was, as it were, an oracle, being consulted on everything that transpired on the place.

This was a severe grief to Simon and Elsie, who received the condolences of all the slaves on the place. The little negroes were bereft of a true friend, as Aunt Lucy, Aunt Dinah's successor, was not as thoughtful, good and kind to the little ones as Aunt Dinah had been.

The negro is no nurse and of no account in a sick room. This was so in the case of the deceased old auntie, who was sick quite awhile and doubtless wanted good nursing. But let one of their number die and they are very much in evidence, sitting up with the corpse or attending the funeral. Aunt Dinah had one of the longest funeral processions ever witnessed in that country.

The negroes not only preach at the burial, but appoint a time several months ahead, giving it great publicity, when So and So's funeral will be preached with great éclat. On these occasions there is as much shouting, singing, groaning, moaning and praying as there is in their revival meetings.

Simon and Elsie put on the usual mourning for parents, and to show their grateful remembrance asked their mistress to get them an elegant monument, with the proper inscription thereon, and erected it at the head of her grave, something very rare for slaves.

Soon after this Elsie got in bad health, would not eat, and notwithstanding much was done for her restoration to health, she failed to improve. The negro as a race has a larger share of superstition than any other. With this Simon was considerably tinctured. As Elsie failed to improve it was noised around that she was "conjured." Simon, notwithstanding his intelligence, began to share in the belief that this was so. There was an old negro "conjure" doctor on the place, whom Simon asked to go around and see Elsie.

After talking with Elsie awhile he left, and seeing Simon told him that "Elsie grievin' 'bout Brutus." He protested that she cared nothing in the world about that negro in the woods, and he would have to search for another cause. Believing that she was "conjured," he insisted that the conjurer take the "spell" off. To this he agreed, and appointed a day when he would bring her around all right. The "conjurer" told Simon that Elsie had "lizards and roaches" in her ear, and that they must come out. It is possible that Simon believed this stuff by letting his superstition get the better of his judgment and intelligence. At the appointed time the "conjurer" came, having lizards and roaches in a box up his sleeve. After songs, incantations and gesticulations, all the while rubbing her head, he adroitly liberated the lizards and roaches, which ran off, making Elsie scream. This may have had effect on the few spectators present, but it certainly had none on Elsie, who knew that she had been acting a piece of consummate duplicity from the first. The "conjurer" told Elsie, "dem live things in her hed wus de cause of all her trubble, and that she would get well now." Elsie, however, failed to improve, and Simon went to see his mistress in regard to the matter, who sent a physician back with him to see Elsie. When leaving he told Simon that Elsie had given birth to a beautiful girl baby as white as he, the physician, was, and with hair as straight.

Horror of horrors! This was "the unkindest cut of all." Simon was crushed, humiliated, and felt that he was disgraced by the conduct of his sister; and to think of her duplicity for all those months was enough to cause an angel to swear. He and his sister were the most intelligent and refined negroes in all that country. They were the élite, the bon ton, the upper crust, and were looked on as such by the other slaves. If there were aristocrats among slaves, Simon and sister filled the bill. Simon had held his sister up to the negro girls on the place as an example, and for her to bring disgrace on them in that way was too much!

Aunt Lucy, Elsie's nurse, said that Elsie had no ordinary baby; that "it was white as the whitest, eyes as blue as ole mars'er, an' hair as strate as ole missis, an' not a white man in de kentry. Dis weren't no nigger baby; Elsie she got wid chile by de Holy Spirit." Simon knew that the days of miracles had passed, and that none other than a white man was its father. Elsie admitted after a long time that her owner was the child's father. Whether he was satisfied, Simon said no more about it, but refused for a long while to even see the baby. Time heals all things, and finally Simon consented to see it and was struck with her beauty. Elsie named her child Octavia, and as it grew in years Simon began to love the child as his own. She became a favorite on the whole plantation, nothing being too good that any of the slaves had for little Octavia. She was a heroine from the first, as she proved to be in after life.

To all appearances she was as pure as the purest Caucasian, and if an expert had been put on the stand to swear as to her race he would have said Caucasian. Such are the circumstances under which this afterwards wonderful being was brought into existence.

With a white father and quadroon mother, this made her seven-eighths Caucasian.