Relating the event some time after in the quarters he said: “I golly, you had aughty seen dem caps fly, and de dust and smok’ in de room. I thought de judgment day had come, sure nuff.” On the arrival of the company, Mrs. Gaines made a very presentable appearance, although the caps and laces had been destroyed. One of the visitors on this occasion was a young Mr. Sarpee, of St. Louis, who, although above twenty-one years of age, had never seen anything of country life, and, therefore, was very anxious to remain over night, and go on a coon hunt. Dr. Gaines, being lame, could not accompany the gentleman, but sent Ike, Cato, and Sam; three of the most expert coon-hunters on the farm. Night came, and off went the young man and the boys on the coon hunt. The dogs scented game, after being about half an hour in the woods, to the great delight of Mr. Sarpee, who was armed with a double barrel pistol, which, he said, be carried both to “protect himself, and to shoot the coon.”
The halting of the boys and the quick, sharp bark of the dogs announced that the game was “treed,” and the gentleman from the city pressed forward with fond expectation of seeing the coon, and using his pistol. However, the boys soon raised the cry of “polecat, polecat; get out de way”; and at the same time, retreating as if they were afraid of an attack from the animal. Not so with Mr. Sarpee; he stood his ground, with pistol in hand, waiting to get a sight of the game. He was not long in suspense, for the white and black spotted creature soon made its appearance, at which the city gentleman opened fire upon the skunk, which attack was immediately answered by the animal, and in a manner that caused the young man to wish that he, too, had retreated with the boys. Such an odor, he had never before inhaled; and, what was worse, his face, head, hands and clothing was covered with the cause of the smell, and the gentleman, at once, said: “Come, let’s go home; I’ve got enough of coon-hunting.” But, didn’t the boys enjoy the fun.
The return of the party home was the signal for a hearty laugh, and all at the expense of the city gentleman. So great and disagreeable was the smell, that the young man had to go to the barn, where his clothing was removed, and he submitted to the process of washing by the servants. Soap, scrubbing brushes, towels, indeed, everything was brought into requisition, but all to no purpose. The skunk smell was there, and was likely to remain. Both family and visitors were at the breakfast table, the next morning, except Mr. Sarpee. He was still in the barn, where he had slept the previous night. Nor did there seem to be any hope that he would be able to visit the house, for the smell was intolerable. The substitution of a suit of the Doctor’s clothes for his own failed to remedy the odor.
Dinkie, the conjurer, was called in. He looked the young man over, shook his head in a knowing manner, and said it was a big job. Mr. Sarpee took out a Mexican silver dollar, handed it to the old negro, and told him to do his best. Dinkie smiled, and he thought that he could remove the smell.
His remedy was to dig a pit in the ground large enough to hold the man, put him in it, and cover him over with fresh earth; consequently, Mr. Sarpee was, after removing his entire clothing, buried, all except his head, while his clothing was served in the same manner. A servant held an umbrella over the unhappy man, and fanned him during the eight hours that he was there.
Taken out of the pit at six o’clock in the evening, all joined with Dinkie in the belief that Mr. Sarpee “smelt sweeter,” than when interred in the morning; still the smell of the “polecat” was there. Five hours longer in the pit, the following day, with a rub down by Dinkie, with his “Goopher,” fitted the young man for a return home to the city.
I never heard that Mr. Sarpee ever again joined in a “coon hunt.”
No description of mine, however, can give anything like a correct idea of the great merriment of the entire slave population on “Poplar Farm,” caused by the “coon hunt.” Even Uncle Ned, the old superannuated slave, who seldom went beyond the confines of his own cabin, hobbled out, on this occasion, to take a look at “de gentleman fum de city,” while buried in the pit.
At night, in the quarters, the slaves had a merry time over the “coon hunt.”
“I golly, but didn’t de polecat give him a big dose?” said Ike.
“But how Mr. Sarpee did talk French to hissef when de ole coon peppered him,” remarked Cato.
“He won’t go coon huntin’ agin, soon, I bet you,” said Sam.
“De coon hunt,” and “de gemmen fum de city,” was the talk for many days.
CHAPTER II.
I have already said that Dr. Gaines was a man of deep religious feeling, and this interest was not confined to the whites, for he felt that it was the Christian duty to help to save all mankind, white and black. He would often say, “I regard our negroes as given to us by an All Wise Providence, for their especial benefit, and we should impart to them Christian civilization.” And to this end, he labored most faithfully.
No matter how driving the work on the plantation, whether seed-time or harvest, whether threatened with rain or frost, nothing could prevent his having the slaves all in at family prayers, night and morning. Moreover, the older servants were often invited to take part in the exercises. They always led the singing, and, on Sabbath mornings, were permitted to ask questions eliciting Scriptural explanations. Of course, some of the questions and some of the prayers were rather crude, and the effect, to an educated person, was rather to call forth laughter than solemnity.
Leaving home one morning, for a visit to the city, the Doctor ordered Jim, an old servant, to do some mowing in the rye-field; on his return, finding the rye-field as he had left it in the morning, he called Jim up, and severely flogged him without giving the man an opportunity of telling why the work had been neglected. On relating the circumstance at the supper-table, the wife said—
“I am very sorry that you whipped Jim, for I took him to do some work in the garden, amongst my flower-beds.”
TROPICAL LUXURIANCE.
To this the Doctor replied, “Never mind, I’ll make it all right with Jim.”
And sure enough he did, for that night, at prayers, he said, “I am sorry, Jim, that I corrected you, to-day, as your mistress tells me that she set you to work in the flower-garden. Now, Jim,” continued he, in a most feeling manner, “I always want to do justice to my servants, and you know that I never abuse any of you intentionally, and now, to-night, I will let you lead in prayer.”
Jim thankfully acknowledged the apology, and, with grateful tears, and an overflowing heart, accepted the situation; for Jim aspired to be a preacher, like most colored men, and highly appreciated an opportunity to show his persuasive powers; and that night the old man made splendid use of the liberty granted to him. After praying for everything generally, and telling the Lord what a great sinner he himself was, he said—
“Now, Lord, I would specially ax you to try to save marster. You knows dat marster thinks he’s mighty good; you knows dat marster says he’s gwine to heaven; but Lord, I have my doubts; an’ yet I want marster saved. Please to convert him over agin; take him, dear Lord, by de nap of de neck, and shake him over hell and show him his condition. But, Lord, don’t let him fall into hell, jes let him see whar he ought to go to, but don’t let him go dar. An’ now, Lord, ef you jes save marster, I will give you de glory.”
The indignation expressed by the doctor, at the close of Jim’s prayer, told the old negro that for once he had overstepped the mark. “What do you mean, Jim, by insulting me in that manner? Asking the Lord to convert me over again. And praying that I might be shaken over hell. I have a great mind to tie you up, and give you a good correcting. If you ever make another such a prayer, I’ll whip you well, that I will.”
Dr. Gaines felt so intensely the duty of masters to their slaves that