The Marrow of Tradition Read online

  XXVIII

  IN SEASON AND OUT

  Wellington soon resumed its wonted calm, and in a few weeks the intendedlynching was only a memory. The robbery and assault, however, stillremained a mystery to all but a chosen few. The affair had been droppedas absolutely as though it had never occurred. No colored man everlearned the reason of this sudden change of front, and Sandy Campbell'sloyalty to his old employer's memory kept him silent. Tom Delamere didnot offer to retain Sandy in his service, though he presented him withmost of the old gentleman's wardrobe. It is only justice to Tom to statethat up to this time he had not been informed of the contents of hisgrandfather's latest will. Major Carteret gave Sandy employment asbutler, thus making a sort of vicarious atonement, on the part of thewhite race, of which the major felt himself in a way the embodiment, forthe risk to which Sandy had been subjected.

  Shortly after these events Sandy was restored to the bosom of thechurch, and, enfolded by its sheltering arms, was no longer tempted tostray from the path of rectitude, but became even a more rigid Methodistthan before his recent troubles.

  Tom Delamere did not call upon Clara again in the character of a lover.Of course they could not help meeting, from time to time, but he neverdared presume upon their former relations. Indeed, the socialatmosphere of Wellington remained so frigid toward Delamere that he lefttown, and did not return for several months.

  Ellis was aware that Delamere had been thrown over, but a certaindelicacy restrained him from following up immediately the advantagewhich the absence of his former rival gave him. It seemed to him, withthe quixotry of a clean, pure mind, that Clara would pass through aperiod of mourning for her lost illusion, and that it would beindelicate, for the time being, to approach her with a lover'sattentions. The work of the office had been unusually heavy of late. Themajor, deeply absorbed in politics, left the detail work of the paper toEllis. Into the intimate counsels of the revolutionary committee Ellishad not been admitted, nor would he have desired to be. He knew, ofcourse, in a general way, the results that it was sought to achieve; andwhile he did not see their necessity, he deferred to the views of oldermen, and was satisfied to remain in ignorance of anything which he mightdisapprove. Moreover, his own personal affairs occupied his mind to anextent that made politics or any other subject a matter of minorimportance.

  As for Dr. Miller, he never learned of Mr. Delamere's good intentionstoward his institution, but regretted the old gentleman's death as theloss of a sincere friend and well-wisher of his race in their unequalstruggle.

  Despite the untiring zeal of Carteret and his associates, the campaignfor the restriction of the suffrage, which was to form the basis of apermanent white supremacy, had seemed to languish for a while after theOchiltree affair. The lull, however, was only temporary, and moreapparent than real, for the forces adverse to the negro were merelygathering strength for a more vigorous assault. While little was said inWellington, public sentiment all over the country became every day morefavorable to the views of the conspirators. The nation was rushingforward with giant strides toward colossal wealth and world-dominion,before the exigencies of which mere abstract ethical theories must notbe permitted to stand. The same argument that justified the conquest ofan inferior nation could not be denied to those who sought thesuppression of an inferior race. In the South, an obscure jealousy ofthe negro's progress, an obscure fear of the very equality socontemptuously denied, furnished a rich soil for successful agitation.Statistics of crime, ingeniously manipulated, were made to present afearful showing against the negro. Vital statistics were made to provethat he had degenerated from an imaginary standard of physicalexcellence which had existed under the benign influence of slavery.Constant lynchings emphasized his impotence, and bred everywhere agrowing contempt for his rights.

  At the North, a new Pharaoh had risen, who knew not Israel,--a newgeneration, who knew little of the fierce passions which had playedaround the negro in a past epoch, and derived their opinions of him fromthe "coon song" and the police reports. Those of his old friends whosurvived were disappointed that he had not flown with clipped wings;that he had not in one generation of limited opportunity attained thelevel of the whites. The whole race question seemed to have reached asort of _impasse_, a blind alley, of which no one could see the outlet.The negro had become a target at which any one might try a shot.Schoolboys gravely debated the question as to whether or not the negroshould exercise the franchise. The pessimist gave him up in despair;while the optimist, smilingly confident that everything would come outall right in the end, also turned aside and went his buoyant way to morepleasing themes.

  For a time there were white men in the state who opposed any reactionarystep unless it were of general application. They were conscientious men,who had learned the ten commandments and wished to do right; but thisclass was a small minority, and their objections were soon silenced bythe all-powerful race argument. Selfishness is the most constant ofhuman motives. Patriotism, humanity, or the love of God may lead tosporadic outbursts which sweep away the heaped-up wrongs of centuries;but they languish at times, while the love of self works on ceaselessly,unwearyingly, burrowing always at the very roots of life, and heaping upfresh wrongs for other centuries to sweep away. The state was at themercy of venal and self-seeking politicians, bent upon regaining theirascendency at any cost, stultifying their own minds by vague sophistriesand high-sounding phrases, which deceived none but those who wished tobe deceived, and these but imperfectly; and dulling the publicconscience by a loud clamor in which the calm voice of truth was for themoment silenced. So the cause went on.

  Carteret, as spokesman of the campaign, and sincerest of all itsleaders, performed prodigies of labor. The Morning Chronicle proclaimed,in season and out, the doctrine of "White Supremacy." Leaving the paperin charge of Ellis, the major made a tour of the state, rousing thewhite people of the better class to an appreciation of the terribledanger which confronted them in the possibility that a few negroes mighthold a few offices or dictate the terms upon which white men should fillthem. Difficulties were explained away. The provisions of the FederalConstitution, it was maintained, must yield to the "higher law," and ifthe Constitution could neither be altered nor bent to this end, meansmust be found to circumvent it.

  The device finally hit upon for disfranchising the colored people inthis particular state was the notorious "grandfather clause." Afterproviding various restrictions of the suffrage, based upon education,character, and property, which it was deemed would in effectdisfranchise the colored race, an exception was made in favor of allcitizens whose fathers or grandfathers had been entitled to vote priorto 1867. Since none but white men could vote prior to 1867, thisexception obviously took in the poor and ignorant whites, while the sameclass of negroes were excluded.

  It was ingenious, but it was not fair. In due time a constitutionalconvention was called, in which the above scheme was adopted andsubmitted to a vote of the people for ratification. The campaign wasfought on the color line. Many white Republicans, deluded with the hopethat by the elimination of the negro vote their party might receiveaccessions from the Democratic ranks, went over to the white party. Byfraud in one place, by terrorism in another, and everywhere by theresistless moral force of the united whites, the negroes were reduced tothe apathy of despair, their few white allies demoralized, and theamendment adopted by a large majority. The negroes were taught thatthis is a white man's country, and that the sooner they made up theirminds to this fact, the better for all concerned. The white people wouldbe good to them so long as they behaved themselves and kept their place.As theoretical equals,--practical equality being forever out of thequestion, either by nature or by law,--there could have been nothing butstrife between them, in which the weaker party would invariably havesuffered most.

  Some colored men accepted the situation thus outlined, if not asdesirable, at least as inevitable. Most of them, however, had littlefaith in this condescending friendliness which was to take the place ofconstitutional rights.
They knew they had been treated unfairly; thattheir enemies had prevailed against them; that their whilom friends hadstood passively by and seen them undone. Many of the most enterprisingand progressive left the state, and those who remain still labor under asense of wrong and outrage which renders them distinctly less valuableas citizens.

  The great steal was made, but the thieves did not turn honest,--thescheme still shows the mark of the burglar's tools. Sins, like chickens,come home to roost. The South paid a fearful price for the wrong ofnegro slavery; in some form or other it will doubtless reap the fruitsof this later iniquity.

  Drastic as were these "reforms," the results of which we haveanticipated somewhat, since the new Constitution was not to take effectimmediately, they moved all too slowly for the little coterie ofWellington conspirators, whose ambitions and needs urged them to promptaction. Under the new Constitution it would be two full years before the"nigger amendment" became effective, and meanwhile the Wellingtondistrict would remain hopelessly Republican. The committee decided,about two months before the fall election, that an active local campaignmust be carried on, with a view to discourage the negroes from attendingthe polls on election day.

  The question came up for discussion one forenoon in a meeting at theoffice of the Morning Chronicle, at which all of the "Big Three" werepresent.

  "Something must be done," declared McBane, "and that damn quick. Toomany white people are saying that it will be better to wait until theamendment goes into effect. That would mean to leave the niggers incharge of this town for two years after the state has declared for whitesupremacy! I'm opposed to leaving it in their hands one hour,--them'smy sentiments!"

  This proved to be the general opinion, and the discussion turned to thesubject of ways and means.

  "What became of that editorial in the nigger paper?" inquired thegeneral in his blandest tones, cleverly directing a smoke ring towardthe ceiling. "It lost some of its point back there, when we came nearlynching that nigger; but now that that has blown over, why wouldn't itbe a good thing to bring into play at the present juncture? Let's readit over again."

  Carteret extracted the paper from the pigeon-hole where he had placed itsome months before. The article was read aloud with emphasis anddiscussed phrase by phrase. Of its wording there could be littlecriticism,--it was temperately and even cautiously phrased. Assuggested by the general, the Ochiltree affair had proved that it wasnot devoid of truth. Its great offensiveness lay in its boldness: that anegro should publish in a newspaper what white people would scarcelyacknowledge to themselves in secret was much as though a Russian_moujik_ or a German peasant should rush into print to question thedivine right of the Lord's Anointed. The article was racial_lese-majeste_ in the most aggravated form. A peg was needed upon whichto hang a _coup d'etat_, and this editorial offered the requisiteopportunity. It was unanimously decided to republish the obnoxiousarticle, with comment adapted to fire the inflammable Southern heart androuse it against any further self-assertion of the negroes in politicsor elsewhere.

  "The time is ripe!" exclaimed McBane. "In a month we can have theniggers so scared that they won't dare stick their heads out of doors on'lection day."

  "I wonder," observed the general thoughtfully, after this conclusion hadbeen reached, "if we couldn't have Jerry fetch us some liquor?"

  Jerry appeared in response to the usual summons. The general gave himthe money, and ordered three Calhoun cocktails. When Jerry returned withthe glasses on a tray, the general observed him with pointed curiosity.

  "What, in h--ll is the matter with you, Jerry? Your black face issplotched with brown and yellow patches, and your hair shines as thoughyou had fallen head-foremost into a firkin of butter. What's the matterwith you?"

  Jerry seemed much embarrassed by this inquiry.

  "Nothin', suh, nothin'," he stammered. "It's--it's jes' somethin' Ibe'n puttin' on my hair, suh, ter improve de quality, suh."

  "Jerry," returned the general, bending a solemn look upon the porter,"you have been playing with edged tools, and your days are numbered. Youhave been reading the Afro-American Banner."

  He shook open the paper, which he had retained in his hand, and readfrom one of the advertisements:--

  "'Kinky, curly hair made straight in two applications. Dark skinslightened two shades; mulattoes turned perfectly white.'

  "This stuff is rank poison, Jerry," continued the general with a mocksolemnity which did not impose upon Jerry, who nevertheless listenedwith an air of great alarm. He suspected that the general was making funof him; but he also knew that the general would like to think that Jerrybelieved him in earnest; and to please the white folks was Jerry'sconsistent aim in life. "I can see the signs of decay in your face, andyour hair will all fall out in a week or two at the latest,--mark mywords!"

  McBane had listened to this pleasantry with a sardonic sneer. It was awaste of valuable time. To Carteret it seemed in doubtful taste. Thesegrotesque advertisements had their tragic side. They were proof that thenegroes had read the handwriting on the wall. These pitiful attempts tochange their physical characteristics were an acknowledgment, on theirown part, that the negro was doomed, and that the white man was toinherit the earth and hold all other races under his heel. For, as themonths had passed, Carteret's thoughts, centring more and more upon thenegro, had led him farther and farther, until now he was firmlyconvinced that there was no permanent place for the negro in the UnitedStates, if indeed anywhere in the world, except under the ground. Morepathetic even than Jerry's efforts to escape from the universal doom ofhis race was his ignorance that even if he could, by some strangealchemy, bleach his skin and straighten his hair, there would stillremain, underneath it all, only the unbleached darky,--the ass in thelion's skin.

  When the general had finished his facetious lecture, Jerry backed out ofthe room shamefacedly, though affecting a greater confusion than hereally felt. Jerry had not reasoned so closely as Carteret, but he hadrealized that it was a distinct advantage to be white,--an advantagewhich white people had utilized to secure all the best things in theworld; and he had entertained the vague hope that by changing hiscomplexion he might share this prerogative. While he suspected thegeneral's sincerity, he nevertheless felt a little apprehensive lest thegeneral's prediction about the effects of the face-bleach and otherpreparations might prove true,--the general was a white gentleman andought to know,--and decided to abandon their use.

  This purpose was strengthened by his next interview with the major. WhenCarteret summoned him, an hour later, after the other gentlemen hadtaken their leave, Jerry had washed his head thoroughly and thereremained no trace of the pomade. An attempt to darken the lighter spotsin his cuticle by the application of printer's ink had not provedequally successful,--the retouching left the spots as much too dark asthey had formerly been too light.

  "Jerry," said Carteret sternly, "when I hired you to work for theChronicle, you were black. The word 'negro' means 'black.' The bestnegro is a black negro, of the pure type, as it came from the hand ofGod. If you wish to get along well with the white people, the blackeryou are the better,--white people do not like negroes who want to bewhite. A man should be content to remain as God made him and where Godplaced him. So no more of this nonsense. Are you going to vote at thenext election?"

  "What would you 'vise me ter do, suh?" asked Jerry cautiously.

  "I do not advise you. You ought to have sense enough to see where yourown interests lie. I put it to you whether you cannot trust yourselfmore safely in the hands of white gentlemen, who are your true friends,than in the hands of ignorant and purchasable negroes and unscrupulouswhite scoundrels?"

  "Dere's no doubt about it, suh," assented Jerry, with a vehemenceproportioned to his desire to get back into favor. "I ain' gwine terhave nothin' ter do wid de 'lection, suh! Ef I don' vote, I kin keep myjob, can't I, suh?"

  The major eyed Jerry with an air of supreme disgust. What could beexpected of a race so utterly devoid of tact? It seemed as though thisnegro thought a wh
ite gentleman might want to bribe him to remain awayfrom the polls; and the negro's willingness to accept the imaginarybribe demonstrated the venal nature of the colored race,--its entirelack of moral principle!

  "You will retain your place, Jerry," he said severely, "so long as youperform your duties to my satisfaction and behave yourself properly."

  With this grandiloquent subterfuge Carteret turned to his next articleon white supremacy. Jerry did not delude himself with any fine-spunsophistry. He knew perfectly well that he held his job upon thecondition that he stayed away from the polls at the approachingelection. Jerry was a fool--

  "The world of fools hath such a store, That he who would not see an ass,Must stay at home and shut his door And break his looking-glass."

  But while no one may be entirely wise, there are degrees of folly, andJerry was not all kinds of a fool.