_Thirty-six_
THE LAND
Colonel Cresswell started all the more grimly to overthrow the new workat the school because somewhere down beneath his heart a pity and awonder were stirring; pity at the perfectly useless struggle to raisethe unraisable, a wonder at certain signs of rising. But it wasimpossible--and unthinkable, even if possible. So he squared his jaw andcheated Zora deliberately in the matter of the cut timber. He placedevery obstacle in the way of getting tenants for the school land. HereJohnson, the "faithful nigger," was of incalculable assistance. He wasamong the first to hear the call for prospective tenants.
The meeting was in the big room of Zora's house, and Aunt Rachel cameearly with her cheery voice and smile which faded so quickly to lines ofsorrow and despair, and then twinkled back again. After her hobbled oldSykes. Fully a half-hour later Rob hurried in.
"Johnson," he informed the others, "has sneaked over to Cresswell's totell of this meeting. We ought to beat that nigger up." But Zora askedhim about the new baby, and he was soon deep in child-lore. Higgins andSanders came together--dirty, apologetic, and furtive. Then cameJohnson.
"How do, Miss Zora--Mr. Alwyn, I sure is glad to see you, sir. Well, ifthere ain't Aunt Rachel! looking as young as ever. And Higgins, youscamp--Ah, Mr. Sanders--well, gentlemen and ladies, this sure is gwineto be a good cotton season. I remember--" And he ran on endlessly, nowto this one, now to that, now to all, his little eyes all the whiledancing insinuatingly here and there. About nine o'clock a buggy droveup and Carter and Simpson came in--Carter, a silent, strong-faced, brownlaborer, who listened and looked, and Simpson, a worried nervous man,who sat still with difficulty and commenced many sentences but did notfinish them. Alwyn looked at his watch and at Zora, but she gave no signuntil they heard a rollicking song outside and Tylor burst into theroom. He was nearly seven feet high and broad-shouldered, yellow, withcurling hair and laughing brown eyes. He was chewing an enormous quid oftobacco, the juice of which he distributed generously, and had had justliquor enough to make him jolly. His entrance was a breeze and a roar.
Alwyn then undertook to explain the land scheme.
"It is the best land in the county--"
"When it's cl'ared," interrupted Johnson, and Simpson looked alarmed.
"It is partially cleared," continued Alwyn, "and our plan is to sell offsmall twenty-acre farms--"
"You can't do nothing on twenty acres--" began Johnson, but Tylor laidhis huge hand right over his mouth and said briefly:
"Shut up!"
Alwyn started again: "We shall sell a few twenty-acre farms but keep onecentral plantation of one hundred acres for the school. Here Miss Zorawill carry on her work and the school will run a model farm with yourhelp. We want to centre here agencies to make life better. We want allsorts of industries; we want a little hospital with a resident physicianand two or three nurses; we want a cooperative store for buyingsupplies; we want a cotton-gin and saw-mill, and in the future otherthings. This land here, as I have said, is the richest around. We wantto keep this hundred acres for the public good, and not sell it. We aregoing to deed it to a board of trustees, and those trustees are to bechosen from the ones who buy the small farms."
"Who's going to get what's made on this land?" asked Sanders.
"All of us. It is going first to pay for the land, then to support theHome and the School, and then to furnish capital for industries."
Johnson snickered. "You mean youse gwine to git yo' livin' off it?"
"Yes," answered Alwyn; "but I'm going to work for it."
"Who's gwine--" began Simpson, but stopped helplessly.
"Who's going to tend this land?" asked the practical Carter.
"All of us. Each man is going to promise us so many days' work a year,and we're going to ask others to help--the women and girls and schoolchildren--they will all help."
"Can you put trust in that sort of help?"
"We can when once the community learns that it pays."
"Does you own the land?" asked Johnson suddenly.
"No; we're buying it, and it's part paid for already."
The discussion became general. Zora moved about among the men whisperingand explaining; while Johnson moved, too, objecting and hinting. At lasthe arose.
"Brethren," he began, "the plan's good enough for talkin' but you can'twork it; who ever heer'd tell of such a thing? First place, the landain't yours; second place, you can't get it worked; third place, whitefolks won't 'low it. Who ever heer'd of such working land on shares?"
"You do it for white folks each day, why not for yourselves," Alwynpointed out.
"'Cause we ain't white, and we can't do nothin' like that."
Tylor was asleep and snoring and the others looked doubtfully at eachother. It was a proposal a little too daring for them, a bit too farbeyond their experience. One consideration alone kept them fromshrinking away and that was Zora's influence. Not a man was there whomshe had not helped and encouraged nor who had not perfect faith in her;in her impetuous hope, her deep enthusiasm, and her strong will. Evenher defects--the hard-held temper, the deeply rooted dislikes--caughttheir imagination.
Finally, after several other meetings five men took courage--three ofthe best and two of the weakest. During the Spring long negotiationswere entered into by Miss Smith to "buy" the five men. Colonel Cresswelland Mr. Tolliver had them all charged with large sums of indebtednessand these sums had to be assumed by the school. As Colonel Cresswellcounted over two thousand dollars of school notes and deposited thembeside the mortgage he smiled grimly for he saw the end. Yet, even thenhis hand trembled and that curious doubt came creeping back. He put itaside angrily and glanced up.
"Nigger wants to talk with you," announced his clerk.
The Colonel sauntered out and found Bles Alwyn waiting.
"Colonel Cresswell," he said, "I have charge of the buying for theschool and our tenants this year and I naturally want to do the bestpossible. I thought I'd come over and see about getting my supplies atyour store."
"That's all right; you can get anything you want," said ColonelCresswell cheerily, for this to his mind was evidence of sense on thepart of the Negroes. Bles showed his list of needed supplies--seeds,meat, corn-meal, coffee, sugar, etc. The Colonel glanced over itcarelessly, then moved away.
"All right. Come and get what you want--any time," he called back.
"But about the prices," said Alwyn, following him.
"Oh, they'll be all right."
"Of course. But what I want is an estimate of your lowest cash prices."
"Cash?"
"Yes, sir."
Cresswell thought a while; such a business-like proposition from Negroessurprised him.
"Well, I'll let you know," he said.
It was nearly a week later before Alwyn approached him again.
"Now, see here," said Colonel Cresswell, "there's practically nodifference between cash and time prices. We buy our stock on time andyou can just as well take advantage of this as not. I have figured outabout what these things will cost. The best thing for you to do is tomake a deposit here and get things when you want them. If you make agood deposit I'll throw off ten per cent, which is all of my profit."
"Thank you," said Alwyn, but he looked over the account and found thewhole bill at least twice as large as he expected. Without furtherparley, he made some excuse and started to town while Mr. Cresswell wentto the telephone.
In town Alwyn went to all the chief merchants one after another andreceived to his great surprise practically the same estimate. He couldnot understand it. He had estimated the current market prices accordingto the Montgomery paper, yet the prices in Toomsville were fifty to ahundred and fifty per cent higher. The merchant to whom he went last,laughed.
"Don't you know we're not going to interfere with Colonel Cresswell'stenants?" He stated the dealers' attitude, and Alwyn saw light. He wenthome and told Zora, and she listened without surprise.
"Now to business," she said briskly. "Miss
Smith," turning to theteacher, "as I told you, they're combined against us in town and we mustbuy in Montgomery. I was sure it was coming, but I wanted to giveColonel Cresswell every chance. Bles starts for Montgomery--"
Alwyn looked up. "Does he?" he asked, smiling.
"Yes," said Zora, smiling in turn. "We must lose no further time."
"But there's no train from Toomsville tonight."
"But there's one from Barton in the morning and Barton is only twentymiles away."
"It is a long walk." Alwyn thought a while, silently. Then he rose. "I'mgoing," he said. "Good-bye."
In less than a week the storehouse was full, and tenants were at work.The twenty acres of cleared swamp land, attended to by the voluntarylabor of all the tenants, was soon bearing a magnificent crop. ColonelCresswell inspected all the crops daily with a proprietary air thatwould have been natural had these folk been simply tenants, and as suchhe persisted in regarding them.
The cotton now growing was perhaps not so uniformly fine as the firstacre of Silver Fleece, but it was of unusual height and thickness.
"At least a bale to the acre," Alwyn estimated, and the Colonel mentallydetermined to take two-thirds of the crop. After that he decided that hewould evict Zora immediately; since sufficient land was cleared alreadyfor his purposes and moreover, he had seen with consternation a herd ofcattle grazing in one field on some early green stuff, and heard a droveof hogs in the swamp. Such an example before the tenants of the BlackBelt would be fatal. He must wait a few weeks for them to pick thecotton--then, the end. He was fighting the battle of his color andcaste.
The children sang merrily in the brown-white field. The wide baskets,poised aloft, foamed on the erect and swaying bodies of the darkcarriers. The crop throughout the land was short that year, for priceshad ruled low last season in accordance with the policy of the Combine.This year they started high again. Would they fall? Many thought so andhastened to sell.
Zora and Alwyn gathered their tenants' crops, ginned them at theCresswells' gin, and carried their cotton to town, where it wasdeposited in the warehouse of the Farmers' League.
"Now," said Alwyn, "we would best sell while prices are high."
Zora laughed at him frankly.
"We can't," she said. "Don't you know that Colonel Cresswell will attachour cotton for rent as soon as it touches the warehouse?"
"But it's ours."
"Nothing is ours. No black man ordinarily can sell his crop without awhite creditor's consent."
Alwyn fumed.
"The best way," he declared, "is to go to Montgomery and get afirst-class lawyer and just fight the thing through. The land is legallyours, and he has no right to our cotton."
"Yes, but you must remember that no man like Colonel Cresswell regards abusiness bargain with a colored man as binding. No white man underordinary circumstances will help enforce such a bargain againstprevailing public opinion."
"But if we cannot trust to the justice of the case, and if you knew wecouldn't, why did you try?"
"Because I had to try; and moreover the circumstances are not altogetherordinary: the men in power in Toomsville now are not the landlords ofthis county; they are poor whites. The Judge and sheriff were bothelected by mill-hands who hate Cresswell and Taylor. Then there's a newyoung lawyer who wants Harry Cresswell's seat in Congress; he don't knowmuch law, I'm afraid; but what he don't know of this case I think I do.I'll get his advice and then--I mean to conduct the case myself," Zoracalmly concluded.
"Without a lawyer!" Bles Alwyn stared his amazement.
"Without a lawyer in court."
"Zora! That would be foolish!"
"Is it? Let's think. For over a year now I've been studying the law ofthe case," and she pointed to her law books; "I know the law and most ofthe decisions. Moreover, as a black woman fighting a hopeless battlewith landlords, I'll gain the one thing lacking."
"What's that?"
"The sympathy of the court and the bystanders."
"Pshaw! From these Southerners?"
"Yes, from them. They are very human, these men, especially thelaborers. Their prejudices are cruel enough, but there are joints intheir armor. They are used to seeing us either scared or blindly angry,and they understand how to handle us then, but at other times it is hardfor them to do anything but meet us in a human way."
"But, Zora, think of the contact of the court, the humiliation, thecoarse talk--"
Zora put up her hand and lightly touched his arm. Looking at him, shesaid:
"Mud doesn't hurt much. This is my duty. Let me do it."
His eyes fell before the shadow of a deeper rebuke. He arose heavily.
"Very well," he acquiesced as he passed slowly out.
The young lawyer started to refuse to touch the case until he saw--ordid Zora adroitly make him see?--a chance for eventual politicalcapital. They went over the matter carefully, and the lawyer acquired arespect for the young woman's knowledge.
"First," he said, "get an injunction on the cotton--then go to court."And to insure the matter he slipped over and saw the Judge.
Colonel Cresswell next day stalked angrily into his lawyers' office.
"See here," he thundered, handing the lawyer the notice of theinjunction.
"See the Judge," began the lawyer, and then remembered, as he was oftenforced to do these days, who was Judge.
He inquired carefully into the case and examined the papers. Then hesaid:
"Colonel Cresswell, who drew this contract of sale?"
"The black girl did."
"Impossible!"
"She certainly did--wrote it in my presence."
"Well, it's mighty well done."
"You mean it will stand in law?"
"It certainly will. There's but one way to break it, and that's toallege misunderstanding on your part."
Cresswell winced. It was not pleasant to go into open court andacknowledge himself over-reached by a Negro; but several thousanddollars in cotton and land were at stake.
"Go ahead," he concurred.
"You can depend on Taylor, of course?" added the lawyer.
"Of course," answered Cresswell. "But why prolong the thing?"
"You see, she's got your cotton tied by injunction."
"I don't see how she did it."
"Easy enough: this Judge is the poor white you opposed in the lastprimary."
Within a week the case was called, and they filed into the courtroom.Cresswell's lawyer saw only this black woman--no other lawyer or sign ofone appeared to represent her. The place soon filled with a lazy,tobacco-chewing throng of white men. A few blacks whispered in onecorner. The dirty stove was glowing with pine-wood and the Judge sat ata desk.
"Where's your lawyer?" he asked sharply of Zora.
"I have none," returned Zora, rising.
There came a silence in the court. Her voice was low, and the men leanedforward to listen. The Judge felt impelled to be over-gruff.
"Get a lawyer," he ordered.
"Your honor, my case is simple, and with your honor's permission I wishto conduct it myself. I cannot afford a lawyer, and I do not think Ineed one."
Cresswell's lawyer smiled and leaned back. It was going to be easierthan he supposed. Evidently the woman believed she had no case, and wasweakening.
The trial proceeded, and Zora stated her contention. She told how longher mother and grandmother had served the Cresswells and showed herreceipt for rent paid.
"A friend sent me some money. I went to Mr. Cresswell and asked him tosell me two hundred acres of land. He consented to do so and signed thiscontract in the presence of his son-in-law."
Just then John Taylor came into the court, and Cresswell beckoned tohim.
"I want you to help me out, John."
"All right," whispered Taylor. "What can I do?"
"Swear that Cresswell didn't mean to sign this," said the lawyerquickly, as he arose to address the court.
Taylor looked at the paper blankly and then at Cresswell an
d someinkling of the irreconcilable difference in the two natures leapt inboth their hearts. Cresswell might gamble and drink and lie "like agentleman," but he would never willingly cheat or take advantage of awhite man's financial necessities. Taylor, on the other hand, had ahorror of a lie, never drank nor played games of chance, but his wholelife was speculation and in the business game he was utterly ruthlessand respected no one. Such men could never thoroughly understand eachother. To Cresswell a man who had cheated the whole South out ofmillions by a series of misrepresentations ought to regard this littlefalsehood as nothing.
Meantime Colonel Cresswell's lawyer was on his feet, and he adopted hismost irritating and contemptuous manner.
"This nigger wench wrote out some illegible stuff and Colonel Cresswellsigned it to get rid of her. We are not going to question the legalityof the form--that's neither here nor there. The point is, Mr. Cresswellnever intended--never dreamed of selling this wench land right in frontof his door. He meant to rent her the land and sign a receipt for rentpaid in advance. I will not worry your honor by a long argument toprove this, but just call one of the witnesses well known to you--Mr.John Taylor of the Toomsville mills."
Taylor looked toward the door and then slowly took the stand.
"Mr. Taylor," said the lawyer carelessly, "were you present at thistransaction?"
"Yes."
"Did you see Colonel Cresswell sign this paper?"
"Yes."
"Well, did he intend so far as you know to sign such a paper?"
"I do not know his intentions."
"Did he say he meant to sign such a contract?"
Taylor hesitated.
"Yes," he finally answered. Colonel Cresswell looked up in amazement andthe lawyer dropped his glasses.
"I--I don't think you perhaps understood me, Mr. Taylor," he gasped."I--er--meant to ask if Colonel Cresswell, in signing this paper, meantto sign a contract to sell this wench two hundred acres of land?"
"He said he did," reiterated Taylor. "Although I ought to add that hedid not think the girl would ever be able to pay. If he had thought shewould pay, I don't think he would have signed the paper."
Colonel Cresswell went red, than pale, and leaning forward before thewhole court, he hurled:
"You damned scoundrel!"
The Judge rapped for order and fidgeted in his seat. There was someconfusion and snickering in the courtroom. Finally the Judge plucked upcourage:
"The defendant is ordered to deliver this cotton to Zora Cresswell," hedirected.
The raging of Colonel Cresswell's anger now turned against John Tayloras well as the Negroes. Wind of the estrangement flew over town quickly.The poor whites saw a chance to win Taylor's influence and the sheriffapproached him cautiously. Taylor paid him slight courtesy. He wasirritated with this devilish Negro problem; he was making money; hiswife and babies were enjoying life, and here was this fool trial toupset matters. But the sheriff talked.
"The thing I'm afraid of," he said, "is that Cresswell and his gang willswing in the niggers on us."
"How do you mean?"
"Let 'em vote."
"But they'd have to read and write."
"Sure!"
"Well, then," said Taylor, "it might be a good thing."
Colton eyed him suspiciously.
"You'd let a nigger vote?"
"Why, yes, if he had sense enough."
"There ain't no nigger got sense."
"Oh, pshaw!" Taylor ejaculated, walking away.
The sheriff was angry and mistrustful. He believed he had discovered adeep-laid scheme of the aristocrats to cultivate friendliness betweenwhites and blacks, and then use black voters to crush the whites. Such acourse was, in Colton's mind, dangerous, monstrous, and unnatural; itmust be stopped at all hazards. He began to whisper among his friends.One or two meetings were held, and the flame of racial prejudice wasstudiously fanned.
The atmosphere of the town and country quickly began to change. Whateverlittle beginnings of friendship and understanding had arisen now quicklydisappeared. The town of a Saturday no longer belonged to a happy,careless crowd of black peasants, but the black folk found themselveselbowed to the gutter, while ugly quarrels flashed here and there with aquick arrest of the Negroes.
Colonel Cresswell made a sudden resolve. He sent for the sheriff andreceived him at the Oaks, in his most respectable style, filling himwith good food, and warming him with good liquor.
"Colton," he asked, "are you sending any of your white children to thenigger school yet?"
"What!" yelled Colton.
The Colonel laughed, frankly telling Colton John Taylor's philosophy onthe race problem,--his willingness to let Negroes vote; his threat tolet blacks and whites work together; his contempt for the officialselected by the people.
"Candidly, Colton," he concluded, "I believe in aristocracy. I can'tthink it right or wise to replace the old aristocracy by new and untriedblood." And in a sudden outburst--"But, by God, sir! I'm a white man,and I place the lowest white man ever created above the highest darkeyever thought of. This Yankee, Taylor, is a nigger-lover. He's secretlyencouraging and helping them. You saw what he did to me, and I'm warningyou in time."
Colton's glass dropped.
"I thought it was you that was corralling the niggers against us," heexclaimed.
The Colonel reddened. "I don't count all white men my equals, I admit,"he returned with dignity, "but I know the difference between a white manand a nigger."
Colton stretched out his massive hand. "Put it there, sir," said he; "Imisjudged you, Colonel Cresswell. I'm a Southerner, and I honor the oldaristocracy you represent. I'm going to join with you to crush thisYankee and put the niggers in their places. They are getting impudentaround here; they need a lesson and, by gad! they'll get one they'llremember."
"Now, see here, Colton,--nothing rash," the Colonel charged him,warningly. "Don't stir up needless trouble; but--well, things mustchange."
Colton rose and shook his head.
"The niggers need a lesson," he muttered as he unsteadily bade his hostgood-bye. Cresswell watched him uncomfortably as he rode away, andagain a feeling of doubt stirred within him. What new force was heloosening against his black folk--his own black folk, who had livedabout him and his fathers nigh three hundred years? He saw the huge formof the sheriff loom like an evil spirit a moment on the rise of the roadand sink into the night. He turned slowly to his cheerless houseshuddering as he entered the uninviting portals.
The Quest of the Silver Fleece: A Novel Page 37