Hanover; Or The Persecution of the Lowly
Page 17
CHAPTER XV.
Captain Nicholas McDuffy.
Before the introduction of the improved method of fire fighting inSouthern cities--before the steam engine, the hook and ladder and watertower companies supplanted the old hand pump and bucket companies, theNegro was the chief fire fighter, and there was nothing that tended moreto make fire fighting a pleasant pastime than those old volunteerorganizations. For many years after the war Wilmington was supplied withwater for the putting out of fires by means of cisterns which were builtin the centre of streets. When the old bell in the market house towersounded the alarm of fire, the volunteers left their work and hastenedto headquarters to drag forth the old hand pump and make for the cisternnearest the scene of the fire, where, keeping time to the tune of somelively song, they pumped the fire out. There was peculiar sweetness inthose old songs which made fire fighting a fascinating pastime in thoseold days. While a few men spannered the hose, directed the stream anddid the work of rescuing and saving furniture, etc., the majority wererequired to man the pumps. Thirty or forty men in brilliant uniformlined up on either side of the huge engine, tugging away at the greathorizontal handles, presented a spectacle which no one even in thesedays of advancement would despise. And the singing!
"O Lindy, Lindy my dear honey, Lindy, gal, I'm boun' to go; O Lindy, Lindy my dear honey, O Lindy, gal, I'm boun' to go," etc.
A few lines of another:
"The cows in de ole field, don't yo' hear de bell? Let her go, let her go. The cows in de ole field, don't yo' hear de bell? Let her go, let her go," etc.
But the things that will make those old organizations live longest inthe memory are their frolics, excursions and picnics, full of all thatappealed to the appetite for pleasure and excitement. There the dancer,the fighter, the runner, the wrestler, could indulge freely in hisfavorite pastime; there old scores could be settled and new ones made.The most noteworthy and serviceable of those old volunteer organizationswas the old "Brooklyn No. 4," which guarded that portion of the cityknown by that name. No. 2, in the middle section, and the "Old No. 3Double Deck," in the southern part of the city. These old-fashionedmachines have given place to the modern fire fighter, the steam engine.But of all of these banished organizations, No. 3 will be the longestremembered. Upon her roll were the names of some of Wilmington's bestcitizens. In the year 1873 this company, too serviceable to bedisbanded, was reorganized under the name of "Cape Fear Engine Company,"and presented by the city with a handsome steam engine of that name. Andalthough the Germans had replaced their hand pump by costly steamer, anda company had been organized among the aristocracy, this colored companykept and maintained the reputation of being the best fire fighters inthe city, and second to none in the entire State. Upon the walls oftheir engine house hung trophies for superior firemanship won in nearlyevery city in the State. The insurance companies of the city recognizedtheir value as savers of property, and upon more than one occasion madethem valuable presents. Only men of good repute who could "stand thegaze of an honest eye" were eligible to membership in the Cape Fear FireCompany, and he who aspired to leadership must be efficient both incharacter and experience as a fire fighter. I write the above that thereader may know what manner of man this was who was compelled to leavehis home, his wife and little ones and flee for his life. CaptainNicholas McDuffy was at one time foreman of the Cape Fear EngineCompany. McDuffy came to Wilmington a rough country lad, securedemployment, went to work, saved his money, bought property and became acitizen of note and respectability. He joined the engine company androse like a meteor to its foremost rank. The relations between the racesin the South have always been such that it requires a Negro of Spartancourage to face a white man and return blow for blow, it matters not howrighteous may be his cause. Captain Nicholas McDuffy was a man withoutfear. Two or three years ago, while a member of the police force ofWilmington, it became his duty to arrest some white roughs fordisorderly conduct. It was a hazardous undertaking, but McDuffy waded inand landed his men, but it cost him dear. His body was so hacked byknife thrusts that he was compelled to go to the hospital for repairs.Generally policemen are commended and rewarded for such heroic deeds,but this placed the name of Nicholas McDuffy upon the death list. ANegro officer must not presume to arrest a white man. There were,however, white men who admired McDuffy for his frankness and courage,and when the riotous excitement was at its height and the assassins wereseeking here and there for victims, one of these true men warned McDuffyjust in time to get into the swamp before a mob surrounded his house.They pursued him, however, but by swimming a creek not far from thecity's limit he escaped their bullets, and without coat or hat made hisway to New Berne. His poor wife and children were left to the mercy ofthe mob, who drove them forth and burned the house behind them.