The countryman

CHAPTER I “Do you know Toliver Holman f ”

This question was asked me one day by Aunt Riney, the widowed aunt of Holman.

“Of course, Aunt Riney/ ’ I replied, “I know ‘Tod’; for thus he was familiarly called by all when he was a boy. ’ ’

“Well/’ said Aunt Riney, sighing, “he was one of the finest lads I ever knew ; but I have been hurt with him. He has been out West for years, and here I have been all this time driven from pillar to post. ’ ’ “Does he not write to you, Aunt Riney f ” “Rarely,” she replied; “but his presence is what I want. He ought to be here ; I am a lonely woman.”

It was harrowing to my feelings to witness the desolation of this aristocratic woman, especially because I knew the history of the Holmans of Holman Hall. I endeavored to console her by suggesting the prospects of better times, but she shook her head and answered,

“I remember that George Eliot said that ‘they who never sat on a cushion don’t know the loss of one,’ and I tell you I have sat on many a cushion in my time, and silk ones at that.”

I had put myself in fullest sympathy with Aunt Riney and I could not refrain from saying to her,

“Your troubles have been many, Aunt Riney, and hard to be borne; but my grandmother used to tell me, what can’t be cured must be endured.”

Aunt Riney looked at me over her spectacles in a way that made me feel that I could not tell her what to do. After a pause she responded,

“I will tell you what, young man, I will never be reconciled to the ways and doings of the Hunters. I can’t endure them. They have no right to Holman Hall and it’s wrong for them to live there. If I were a man — but perhaps I should not say that. I am a woman, and a mighty lonesome one at that.”

“You have friends, Aunt Riney,” I returned, endeavoring to comfort her.

“Yes, yes; but right is right; you have been absent yourself for years and you don’t know everything that has been done.”

I had to admit this, for I left Pike County, Alabama, in the beginning of the war between the States, and I had to learn from Aunt Riney the history of the Holmans. Accordingly I inquired of her,

“What became of the owner of Holman Hall?”

I I He went to the war. ’ 9

‘ 6 How came the Hunters to be in Holman Hall?”

“They stole it.”

Aunt Riney was very matter-of-fact in her way of speaking about the Hunters.

“How could they steal it, Aunt Riney?” I asked, surprise manifested in my tone.

“I can’t look on the possession in any other light than a steal, or a robbery; but what is the difference?” Aunt Riney answered, with some qualification of her previous language.

“None in principle, assuming the fact to be as you have stated it. ’ ’

“Well, to make a long story short I will tell yon a few things,”

“If you please, Aunt Riney; I am eager to know them.”

Aunt Riney groaned a little louder than she had done previously, then she began :

“My brother, Captain Holman, was an officer in the Confederate Army, and was captured at Seven Pines. No word has been received from him since his capture. We have never known what became of him. ’ ’

“No one ever wrote to you about him?” was my quick response.

“No one. That was the greatest blow that befell our family. The loss of the negroes was nothing compared with that . 9 9

“Nor the loss of the estate,” I added.

“Nothing was so great a loss. We had preferred to know that Captain Holman was dead than to have suffered, and to suffer now, such dreadful suspense touching his fate.”

“It has been nearly twelve years, Aunt Riney, since the battle of Seven Pines.”

“They have seemed like twice twelve to me. On my husband's death I went to live with my sister-in-law. After a while the Yankees began to overrun the South. General Wilson's army came to our home and we ‘ refugeed. ' My brother's wife had some gold that was hoarded for hard times, and on this we lived until the close of the war. Then we returned, as we supposed, to our old home."

“But you did not live in it?"

“No; that was like the bitterness of death to us. The Hunters were in it. And there they are now, and I shall never die satisfied until we get our rights. We lived on a rented farm until Tod went to the West. There was a constant clash between the Hunters and our servants. Tod had the spirit of his father and he would take nothing from the Hunters. Sometimes our stock would break into the fields where the Hunters worked, and when the negroes would go for them the Hunters would beat them. That would trouble sister, and Tod and the Hunters would be certain to have an encounter. One day Tod met one of the Hunter boys and said to him, ‘You are an infernal scoundrel! You have beaten our negroes . 9 Then the boy struck Tod with a stick, but Tod stretched him bleeding on the ground. I was so glad that I did not know what to do, but sister worried all the more. She had troubles enough before the Hunters came, and now she began to grow weak. She would not go out; partly because her circumstances were so different from what they once were. When she could not go as she once did she would not go at all. Oftentimes she would not gratify the curiosity of those who called just to see how she was. ”

“I well understand her pride, Aunt Riney.”

“True, her pride was great; but her grief for her lost husband was greater.”

“0 that she could have gotten a letter from him!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, the suspense and suffering were too great. At last, sister died. I was so lonely. Then Tod had to go to school. ’ 9

“ And what became of you during that time?”

“Ah, I lived somehow. The gold that had been boarded supported me and kept Tod in school. Still, be bad to supplement bis support by bis own efforts. ’ ’

“He could more easily do that, Aunt Riney, in the North, where Tod went.”

“It was all against my wishes that Tod went North. I didn’t want him to have anything to do with people who had taken our property from us. But the younger generation never suffered what the older ones did, and I reckon that they are more forgiving on that account. Tod would go to Yale.”

“I have no doubt that broadened him.”

“But I wanted him taught hv our folks. I didn’t want any Yankee notions put into Tod’s head.” Aunt Riney was positive.

“But, Aunt Riney, his Northern education was a payment in part for the loss he sustained in property.”

“Don’t talk to me about that. Nothing can pay our losses. I don’t want to say too much, sir, hut when I think of our losses it makes me feel mighty unforgiving like.”

Feeling that enough had been said about the loss of property, I directed the conversation another way, and began to ask about Tod Holman. Aunt Riney freely told me all that she knew about him, and informed me that be went West, after his graduation, to better his fortunes and wait for better times. I hinted that perhaps he should have stayed with her, but she replied that there had been so much conflict between him and the Hunters that Tod thought it best for him to be absent for a term of years. Then I asked why did not Tod attempt to recover the Holman estate so unjustly held by the Hunters.

“Because,” was the reply, “the times were dangerous. In Reconstruction times the courts were uncertain. Besides, bushwhackers abounded.”

“But,” I insisted, “the law should restore the property to the rightful owner now.”

“Something should be done; but how, sir? Tod is absent, the only heir, and I could not bring a suit in my name. If the property were mine — but I must curb my speech.”

I left Aunt Riney to her own reflections.

Chapter II

The story of Aunt Riney moved my sympathies. Nothing has saddened me more than the desolation wrought by our civil war. The destruction of property was a minor quantity compared with the breaking down of the family prestige and pride that were dependent on that property. Loss of tone and weakened public spirit resulted from the ruin of the aristocrats, and in the wide-spread demoralization women suffered the most. Those women chiefly who had been accustomed to luxury seemed to have the least resilience of spirit in the midst of the misfortunes that overtook them.

After due consideration of all the facts in the case, I determined to do what I could to relieve the troubles of Aunt Riney. Within a few days after I heard her story I sought the schoolmaster, Tol Strickland, a friend of the Holmans, and a man intimate with Toliver Holman until the latter went to the West. I endeavored to extract from him all that I conld of Tod’s history, and felt free to ask the direct question,

“ Where is Toliver Holman ?”

“I do not know exactly,” answered Strickland.

“You have not heard from him recently?”

“It has been some time since.”

“Where was he when you last heard from him?”

“Near Abilene, Texas. But Tod moves about . 9 9

“What has he been doing?”

‘ ‘ Finding experience . 9 9

“And he found it?”

“Yes. He was a hunter for a time, then he went with the cowboys, fought Indians, grew tired of that life, and turned to be a teacher. ’ 9

“I suppose, Tol, that he had to do that in order to make a living . 9 9

“True; he did not take much money with him. The most was left for Aunt Riney.”

“The troubles at home drove him West, did they not?”

“Partly; but Tod is an adventurous spirit anyway.”

“I have no doubt that he has found much excitement in the West?”

“Ah, sir, the sad memories of his home, I have no doubt, outweighed all excitement. 9 9

This remark of the schoolmaster caused me to make up my mind fully, but I disclosed my purpose to no one. I had traveled a good deal in my life, and now my mind was made up to find Toliver Holman if I could, and bring him home. Within one month I had my trunk packed and was on the way to New Orleans. From thence I went to El Paso, Texas, and set out for the Pan Handle. I hunted and mixed with the cowboys as much as I could. I spent several months on the plains, but found no one who could give me any account of Toliver Holman.

• The summer was now on in good earnest and I felt that I must return for fear that I should contract malaria. My trip in search of Holman was fruitless, save my delightful experiences in hunting and in seeing a new country.

In July of the year 1874 I sought the nearest railway station and took the train for New Orleans, considerably dampened in my feelings because I had been disappointed in the main object of my trip. I spent one week in the city of New Orleans, even at the risk of contracting fever. In order to see something of the life of that great city I went into some forbidden places merely through curiosity. I observed the ways of many, and learned to fear the more. I saw near the French market, one evening, two men struggling together. One shouted help, while the other snatched himself away and ran. The incident created some excitement.

I was stopping at the St. Charles Hotel, and on my return that evening on looking over the register I observed the name of one T. H. Holman. About an hour after this there came into the hotel a man who had the appearance of the one I saw struggling with the pickpocket. Eager to know, if possible, the story of the struggle that I had just witnessed, I approached the stranger and asked,

“Did you not have an encounter with a man near the French market an hour or so ago?”

“I did, sir.”

“And the reason, if I may ask?”

“I saw the villain seize the purse of an old woman and run. Then I followed him, keeping in the shadows of the streets. At last he came into the crowd near the French market. I watched my chance. He was going away when I seized him and shouted for help, but in some way he broke away. He was a slick fellow.”

‘ ‘ And your name ? ’ ’

1 1 Holman. ’ ’

1 ‘ Toliver Holman ? ’ ’

“Yes, sir. I am on my way home.” “You are the man I have been looking for. I have sought you the country over, if you will excuse the exaggeration. ”

On making known to him my name and purpose, I soon convinced him that I knew his family history, and he at once asked about Aunt Riney.

After another day in New Orleans we bought our tickets for the homeward journey, passed through Montgomery, and finally came in sight of Holman Hall, and broke the news to Aunt Riney.

After greeting his aunt, Tod said,

“Once I thought that I would bury myself in the West, Aunt Riney.’ ’

“I have been buried here, Tod. Why did you leave your aunty alone!”

“It seemed hard that I did so, yet I was full of concern for you. You suffered in mind, but not in body, my dear Aunty. ’ ’

“I had bread, but I ate it in bitterness of soul. ’ ’

“I tasted bitter things in the West, but nothing exceeded the sad memories of my home. Wherever I roamed my heart fondly turned to home and you. But, Aunt Riney, what has happened to Holman Hall!”

“The Hunters still live in it.”

“Ah, that should not be ! I will demand of old man Hunter the return of my father’s estate, even if I have to grapple with him hand to hand.”

I interrupted at this moment, saying, “I think, Tod, that you should do so. You owe it to your sense of right, to your manhood, and to your love for Aunt Riney. ’ 9

Aunt Riney ’s eye flashed with a look of indignation as she said,

“You must, Tod, for I am tired of living from pillar to post. I never thought that I would come to that . 1 ’

“I have my plans, Aunt Riney, and my purpose is made up. I have sowed my wild oats and I have reaped a harvest. I hope that I have reformed. In all the confusion of the times I have seen a new life rising out of the chaos of the old.”

“If you had Holman Hall, Tod, you would have your proper base of action. ’ 9 “Precisely, Aunty. That is my right. My mind is made up. I will demand what is my own ; and what is more, I shall have it. Somebody must move.”

“The sooner the better, Tod.”

Pleased with what I had heard, I returned home and left Tod to mature his plans.

Chapter III

It was a question with Tod how to proceed. He had been away so long that he appeared like a stranger to many, and that made it more important to gain the sympathies of friends. He had need of caution and conservatism. It was all important to have something to do, get into work of some kind, and make himself useful, if possible, to the community.

The first year after his return was a very busy one to Tod. In the fall he taught school, and in the spring of the next year he undertook to farm on rented land, meeting with a measure of success. The thought that he had become a renter, or tenant, grated on his feelings and wounded his sense of dignity; but he consoled himself, in part, with the thought that a successful farmer could not be hurt much in the eyes of his neighbors. Taking that view of the situation, Tod could bear with the fact that he had become a farmer, and hope for the time to come when he should be a planter as his father had been. That time he felt would surely come in the recovery of the Holman plantation.

Aunt Riney was very persistent. One day she drew her chair near to Tod and provoked him by saying,

“The Hunters will never let you have any peace of mind, Tod. ’ ’

With a little more abruptness than usual for Tod, he snapped out,

“My peace of mind does not depend upon the Hunters.”

“You had better watch them, Tod.”

1 ‘ They have more reason to fear me than I have to fear them. One thing is certain, I want no Hunter to feel easy as long as his foot pollutes the estate of my father. Let the Hunters unfold themselves as they may. I disdain the men and their methods.”

Aunt Riney sighed, shook her head, and said,

“They are only half-breeds anyway.”

“Let us not pursue this subject any furtlier, Aunt Riney. The wind begins to rise anyway. We must seek another place.”

When the Hunters entered Holman Hall the negroes on the place felt the incongruity of the situation and talked about it. Some of them left, others sulked, but no one was more indignant than Uncle Harbard, an hereditary servant of the Holmans. Uncle Harbard was one of the first to meet Tod after his return and welcome him back. Tod was very fond of him, and often encouraged him to talk. Once he put the question to him just to hear the old darky express himself,

“How do you like your new master, Uncle Harbard?”

With a peculiar shuffle, Uncle Harbard straightened himself back and answered,

“ ’Fore Gawd, Mr. Tod, I ain’t got no new marster. I don’t like dem Hunters no way, but I has to stay wid ’em. I’m too ole to move about, an’ I don’t feel at home nowhere ’cep ’in’ on our plantation. I wish my ole marster could come back.”

‘ ‘If lie should, there would he lively times at Holman Hall. ”

“Well, I wish dat he’d come. Pd help him to make it lively. Dem Hunters ain’t got manners like my white folks, nohow.”

“Manners have to be bred into folks, Uncle Harbard.”

“Hat’s so, Mr. Tod; an’ I belongs to de quality, I does. I was born an’ bred among ’em. ’ ’

When Uncle Harbard said that he showed his white teeth and chuckled. Tod laughed with him, but not wishing to continue the conversation further, he said,

“It is cool, Uncle Harbard, and Aunt Riney needs a fire.”

“Sarvant, sir. I’ll see dat she has one. I loves Miss Riney like my own folks.”

Uncle Harbard shuffled off to make the fire and Tod busied himself about the house.

Chapter IV

Tod consulted several lawyers with regard to the recovery of Holman Hall, and received from them assurances that a suit to recover the property would now be successful. Accordingly he decided to enter suit at the August term of court. The Hunters were alarmed and active. Gossips were busy. At this time a note was brought to Tod by a servant of Dr. Longshore, of Hillsboro. It read thus:

“My dear Mr. Holman:

‘ ‘ The bearer will deliver this note to you by my request. I hope that you may find it convenient to come to my home at once, as I desire to see you for my own sake. Besides, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you on business connected with Holman Hall.

4 ‘Hoping to see you at once,

“I am, truly yours, etc.,

“Dr. Longshore.”

This note aroused Tod’s curiosity. He showed it to Aunt Riney, who said,

“That’s some lawyer trying to get up a compromise for those Hunters.”

“No, Aunt Riney. I think that the Hunters have some plot up, and some friend, not wishing to be seen at Holman Hall, is seeking to inform me. ’ ’

“I told you that the Hunters would never let you rest.”

“It seems that they are having less rest than anybody. ’ 9

Tod made haste to obey the request of Dr. Longshore, who lived some six miles away. Within a few hours he was at his home.

When Tod arrived Dr. Longshore was away attending to a patient. While waiting for the Doctor to return, Gertrude, the eldest daughter, entertained Tod. He declared to Gertrude that his curiosity had been very much excited by the note of her father, and politely asked her to tell him who wished to see him. She declared that she did not know, but treating him a little playfully she added,

“ We all wish to see you, Tod; you have been away so long. ’ 9

4 ‘Yes, as you would look upon any strange thing. I am pleased to see you, Gertrude, yet I have no desire to exhibit myself as an object of curiosity since my sojourn in the West.”

“But you have friends, Tod.”

“I hope to make friends, for I shall need them. But I am eager to know what friend wishes to see me. I am restive as long as I am held in suspense.”

“I am sorry that I can’t interest you,

Tod, but ” Gertrude hesitated, then

looked out of the window and exclaimed, “Here comes my father now, and another with him . 9 9

Tod looked out of the window and saw a man with a long white beard walking beside Dr. Longshore, and said to Gertrude wonderingly, “Who can it be 1 99

He went to the front piazza, and Dr. Longshore, on seeing him, cried out,

“This is Captain Holman, Tod.”

‘ ‘ What ! My father ! ’ 9

“My boy!”

Then they fell on each other’s neck and wept, son and father. The scene cannot be described. Oh, the joy and sadness of that meeting, and the greater grief when the father came in sight of Holman Hall !

After Captain Holman had affectionately greeted Annt Riney he told to her the story of his life since his capture at Seven Pines more than twelve years before.

“I was captured at the battle of Seven Pines and carried a prisoner to Rock Island, Illinois,” said the Captain, “I had said that I would never surrender to a Yankee; but my company was totally surrounded and I felt that they had rights that I was bound to respect. Then there were the loved ones at home whom I thought of.

“Nearly all that I had was taken from me, but as my boots were not searched they stood me in good stead, serving to conceal my pistol. I had some little money left to me. I cannot tell yon all that I suffered, for I do not wish to stir up undue feeling. I desire to forget the horrors of war as much as I can, yet there is one thing that I can never forget, and it is hard for me to forgive it.”

Tod eagerly asked to know what that was.

“Well, my boy, it is an unpleasant story, and one of awful memory, because it brought me more suffering than all else in my life. But here it is. A man was driving a commissary wagon to the prison, when a captain on duty ordered me to open a gate for the wagon to pass through. I looked and saw that the driver was a nigger. My blood fairly boiled. I felt that the Captain desired to humiliate me. He seemed to be different from the rest of the officers, and I don’t think that he liked me any way. My mind was made up, and I said to him, ‘I will not open a gate for a damned nigger, nor for a damned blue-mouth Yankee!’ Then the Captain came up to me and struck me with a whip. There were other officers looking on, and, mad as I was, I had to use some discretion. I said to him, ‘Do not strike me again ! ’ Then he rapidly lashed me several times. That so enraged me that

I reached down into my boot, drew out my pistol, and shot him dead.”

“And vindicated your self-respect, father.”

“I could not take everything, my boy, although I was a prisoner.”

“It makes me feel proud of you, father.”

‘ ‘ That was the first time a lash was ever laid on me. If I had not resented it I should be ashamed to face you now.”

“Oh, brother, it is a great wonder that the other officers did not shoot you, or hang you!” exclaimed Aunt Riney.

“But, Riney, there is a divinity that shapes our ends. But let me go on. Providence always raises up friends for us.”

“And fortune favors the brave, I have heard it said, ’ * cheerily rhymed in Tod.

“Of course I had to have a trial, and there is fairness even in war and among one’s enemies.”

“Your case must have been a desperate one, father.”

“I despaired of my life, my son, and my chief thought was that my name would not go down altogether in dishonor . 9 9

“I rejoice, father, that no heritage of dishonor attaches to your name.”

“The killing I regret, son; but let that go. In the trial I was allowed to choose two men to represent my case. ’ 9

“Two!” Tod leaped up, sat down, and said, “I wonder, father, that any one was found willing to represent you.”

“All humanity was not wanting, even to Yankees, my son. When I shot the Captain I heard two men say that I treated him just right; that he should not have struck a prisoner. These two men were officers, and I chose them to represent me in the trial. ’ 9

“And they did not fail you?”

“No. The others wanted to hang me, but the men I chose said that they could never bear to see that done. After a long debate they agreed to send me to prison for twelve years.”

“And all that time, brother, we could hear nothing from you. It was too cruel !” said Aunt Riney.

4 4 The authorities would neither let me write, Riney, nor receive a letter/ ’

“0 that mother could have known your fate, father ! May he that would have prolonged her life. 9 ’

“It seemed to me that I spent forty years in prison, instead of twelve. It was the saddest part of my imprisonment that I could hear nothing from home. ,,

“Brother, your return compensates me for much that I have suffered,” said Aunt Riney soothingly.

“Father, we have not much left to us,” said Tod, “but we shall endeavor to gladden the remainder of your life.”

“My son, I shall be grateful to you for all that you may do for me, yet I can’t be as happy as I wish to be, so long as strangers unjustly lodge in Holman Hall.”

“I have made arrangements, father, to bring suit in the August term of court for the possession of the property.”

“But, my son, I mean to see old man Hunter and demand the place of him before I go into court.”

“I will go with you, father.”

“No, that would seem to indicate a threat. I wish to make no show of force. I shall go alone. ’ ’

“It will never do for you to trust yourself alone into the hands of the Hunters,” replied Tod.

“Who hath his quarrel just is doubly armed, Tod.”

“But, father, justice is not always a protection against violence. If there were any sense of justice in the Hunters they would restore your property to you. ’ ’

“A threat, my son, would not sooner cause them to act justly. Besides, a threat would not become me as a gentleman.”

“I assent to that, father.”

“Again, my boy, if I should go to them in company they would attribute that to cowardice in me.”

“I do not wish you to do anything that would seem to compromise your manhood, father; but I dread to have you go to the Hunters alone.”

“My resolution is good to do so, Tod.”

“I want you to go, brother,” said Aunt Riney.

“At a proper time I shall, Riney.”

CHAPTER Y

The return of Captain Holman made much talk for every one, and there was a sensation of suprise and gladness on the part of kindred and friends when they heard of his arrival. The story of his imprisonment got abroad and aroused much interest, and no little admiration for the man because he shot the Yankee captain for striking him with a whip.

The question was freely and frequently asked by the neighbors, “I wonder what Captain Holman will do to the Hunters ! ’ ’ Every one knew that the title to Holman Hall now occupied by the Hunters really was vested in Captain Holman. The Hunters claimed possession by an event of war and rested their claims on what was really believed to be an invalid title given to the Hunters when the country was overrun by Northern troops. Taking this view of the situation, many said, “I reckon the Hunters must feel uneasy now.”