Cudjo's Cave

  XXXIX.

  _A COUNCIL OF WAR._

  Owing to the disturbances of the night the old clergyman had sleptlittle. He now lay down on the couch, and soon sank into a profoundslumber. When he awoke he heard the hum of voices. The cave was filledwith armed men.

  "It is Mr. Stackridge and his friends," said Virginia. "They have cometo hold a council of war; and they look upon you as their grand sachem."

  "I have brought them here," said Pomp, "at their request--all exceptDeslow."

  "Where is he?"

  "Deslow, I believe, has deserted!" said Stackridge.

  "Ah! What makes you think so?"

  "Well, I've watched him right close, and I've seen a good deal of what'sbeen working in his mind. He's one o' them fools that believe Slavery isGod; and he can't get over it. Pomp, here, saved our lives in the firethe other night; and Deslow couldn't stand it. To owe his life to arunaway slave--that was too dreadful!" said Stackridge with savagesarcasm. "He's a man that would rather be roasted alive, and see hiscountry ruined, I suppose, than do anything that might damage in theleast degree his divine institution! There's the difference 'twixt himand me. Sence slavery has made war agin' the Union, and turned us out ofour homes, I say, by the Lord! let it go down to hell, as it desarves!"

  "You use strong language, neighbor!"

  "I do; and it's time, I reckon, when strong language, and strong actionstoo, are called fur. You hate a man that you've befriended, and that'sturned traitor agin' ye, worse'n you hate an open inemy, don't ye? Wal,I've befriended slavery, and it's turned traitor agin' me, and all Ihold most sacred in this world, and I'm jest getting my eyes open to it;and so I say, let it go down! I've no patience with such men as Deslow,and I'm glad, on the whole, he's gone. He don't belong with us anyhow. Isay, any man that loves any kind of property, or any party, orinstitution, better than he loves the old Union"--Stackridge said thiswith tears of passion in his eyes,--"such a man belongs with the rebels,and the sooner we sift 'em out of our ranks the better."

  "When did he go?"

  "Some of us were out foraging again last night; Withers and Deslow withthe rest. Tell what he said to you, Withers."

  The group of fugitives had gathered about the bed on which the oldclergyman sat. Withers was scraping his long horny nails with a hugejackknife.

  "He says to me, says he, 'Withers, we've got inter a bad scrape.' 'Howso?' says I; for I thought we war gittin' out of a right bad scrape whenwe got out of that temp'rary jail. 'The wust hain't happened yet,' sayshe. 'That's bad,' says I, 'fur it's allus good fur a feller to know thewust has happened.' And so I told him a little story. Says I, 'When Iwas a little boy 'bout that high, I was helping my daddy one day securesome hay. Wal, it looked like rain, and we put in right smart till thefust sprinkles begun to fall,--great drops, big as ox-eyes,--and theyskeert me, for I war awful 'fraid of gittin' wet. So what did I do butrun and git under some boards. My daddy war so busy he didn't see me,till bime-by he come that way, rolling up the hay-cocks to kill, andlooked, and thar I war under the pile o' boards, curled up like ahedgehog to keep dry. 'Josh,' says he, 'what ye doin' thar? Why ain't yeto work?' ''Fraid o' gittin' wet!' says I. 'Pon that he didn't say aword, but jest come and took me by the collar, and led me to a littlerun close by, and jest casoused me in the water, head over heels, andthen jest pulled me out agin. 'Now,' says he, 'ye can go to work, andyou won't be the leastest mite afeard o' gittin' wet. Wal, 'twas aboutso. I didn't mind the rain, arter that. 'Wal, Deslow,' says I, 'thatlarnt me a lesson; and ever sence I've always thought 'twas a good thingfur us, when trouble comes, to have the wust happen, and know it's thewust, fur then we'se prepared fur't, and ain't no longer to be skeert bya little shower.' That's what I said to Deslow." And Withers continuedscraping his nails.

  "Very good philosophy, indeed!" said Mr. Villars. "And what did hereply?"

  "He said, when the wust happened to us, we'd find we had no home, noproperty, and no country left; and fur his part he had been thinkingwe'd better go and give ourselves up, make peace with the authorities,and take the oath of allegiance. 'Lincoln won't send no army to relieveus yet a-while,' says he, 'and even if he does, you know, victory forthe Federals means the death of our institootions! So I see where theshoe pinched with him; and I said, 'If that continners to be your waysof thinkin', I hain't the least objections to partin' comp'ny with ye,as the house dog said to the skunk; only,' says I, 'don't ye go tobetrayin' us, if you conclude to go.' Soon arter that we separated, andthat's the last any on us have seen of him."

  "They've begun to whip women, too," said Stackridge. "But, by right goodluck, when this scamp here--" glowering upon Lysander--"sent to have mywife whipped, he got his own mother whipped in her place! He's aconnection o' your family, I know, Mr. Villars; but I never spile astory for relation's sake."

  "Nor need you, friend Stackridge. Sorry I am for that deluded young man;but he reaps what he has sown, and he has only himself to blame."

  "'Twas a regular secesh operation, that of having his own mother strungup," said Captain Grudd. "They are working against their own interestsand families without knowing it. When they think they are destroying theUnion, they are destroying their own honor and influence; for so it 'illbe sure to turn out."

  "It was Liberty they intended to have beaten," said Penn; "but they willfind that it is the back of their own mother, Slavery, that receives therods."

  "Just what I meant to say; but it took the professor to put it into theright shape. By the way, neighbors, we owe the professor an apology.Some of us found fault with his views of slavery and secession; butwe've all come around to 'em pretty generally, I believe, by this time.Here's my hand, professor, and let me say I think you was right enoughin all but one thing--your plaguy non-resistance."

  "He has thought better of that," said Mr. Villars, pleasantly.

  "Yes, zhentlemen," said Carl, anxious to exonerate his friend, "he hasbeen conwerted."

  "We have found that out, to his credit," said Stackridge.

  And, one after another, all took Penn cordially by the hand.

  "We are all brothers in one cause, OUR COUNTRY," said Penn. Nor did hestop when the hand of the last patriot was shaken; he took the hand ofPomp also. "We are all men in the sight of God!" His heart was full;there was a thrill of fervent emotion in his voice. His calm young face,his firm and finely-cut features, always noticeable for a certainmassiveness and strength, were singularly illumined. He went on, thelight of the cave-fire throwing its ruddy flash on the group. "We areall His children. He has brought us together here for a purpose. Thework to be done is for all men, for humanity: it is God's work. To thatwe should be willing to give everything--even our lives; even ourselfish prejudices, dearer to some than their lives. I believe that uponthe success of our cause depends, not the prosperity of any class ofmen, or of any race of men, only, but of all men, and all races. ForAmerica marches in the van of human progress, and if she falters, if sheignobly turns back, woe is to the world! Perhaps you do not see thisyet; but never mind. One thing we all see--a path straight before us,our duty to our country. We must put every other consideration aside,forget all minor differences, and unite in this the defence of thenation's life."

  An involuntary burst of applause testified how ardently the hearts ofthe patriots responded to these words. Some wrung Penn's hand again.Pomp meanwhile, erect, and proud as a prince, with his arms folded uponhis massive and swelling chest, smiled with deep and quiet satisfactionat the scene. There was another who smiled, too, her face suffused withlove and pride ineffable, as her eyes watched the young Quaker, and hersoul drank in his words.

  "That's the sentiment!" said Stackridge. "And now, what is to be done?We have been disappointed in one thing. Our friends don't join us. Onereason is, no doubt, they hain't got arms. But the main reason is, theylook upon our cause as desperate. Desperate or not, it can't be helped,as I see. With or without help, we must fight it through, or go back,like that putty-head Deslow, and take the oath of allegiance t
o thebogus government. Mr. Villars, you're wise, and we want your opinion."

  "That, I fear, will be worth little to you!" answered the old man,bowing his head with true humility. "It seems to me that you are not torely upon any open assistance from your friends. And sorry I am to add,I think you should not rely, either, upon any immediate aid from thegovernment. The government has its hands full. The time is coming whenyou who have eyes will see the old flag once more floating on thebreezes of East Tennessee. But it may be long first. And in the meantime it is your duty to look out for yourselves."

  "That is it," said Stackridge. "But how?"

  "It seems to me that your retreat cannot remain long concealed.Therefore, this is what I advise. Make your preparations to disperse atany moment. You may be compelled to hide for months in the mountains andwoods, hunted continually, and never permitted to sleep in safety twicein the same place. That will be the fate of hundreds. There is but onething better for you to do. It is this. Force your way over themountains into Kentucky, join the national army, and hasten itsadvance."

  "And you?" said Captain Grudd.

  The old man smiled with beautiful serenity.

  "Perhaps I shall have my choice, after all. You remember what that was?To remain in the hands of our enemies. I ought never to have attemptedto escape. I cannot help myself; I am only a burden to you. My daughterscannot continue to be with me here in this cave; and, if I am to beseparated from them, I may as well be in a confederate prison aselsewhere. If the traitors seek my life, they are welcome to it."

  "O, father! what do you say!" exclaimed Virginia, in terror at hiswords.

  "I advise what I feel to be best. I will give myself up to the militaryauthorities. You, and Salina, if she chooses, will, I am certain, bepermitted to go to your friends in Ohio. But before I take this step,let all here who have strong arms to lend their country be already ontheir way over the mountains. Penn and Carl must go with them. Nor do Iforget Pomp and Cudjo. They shall go too, and you will protect them."

  Penn turned suddenly pale. It was the soundness of the good old man'scounsel that terrified him. Separation from Virginia! She to be left atthe mercy of the confederates! This was the one thing in the world hehad personally to dread.

  "It may be good advice," he said. "It is certainly a nobleself-sacrifice, Mr. Villars proposes. But I do not believe there is onehere who will consent to it. I say, let us keep together. If necessary,we can die together. We cannot separate, if by so doing we must leavehim behind."

  He spoke with intense feeling, yet his words were but feebly echoed bythe patriots. The truth was, they were already convinced that they oughtto be making their way out of the state, and had said so amongthemselves; but, being unwilling to abandon the old minister, andknowing well that he could never think of undertaking the terriblejourney they saw before them, hither they had come to hear what he hadto suggest.

  "What do you think, Pomp?" Penn asked, in despair.

  "I think that what Mr. Villars advises these men to do is the bestthing."

  Penn was stupefied. He saw that he stood alone, opposed to the generalopinion. And something within himself said that he was selfish, that hewas wrong. He did not venture to glance at Virginia, but bent his eyesdownward with a stunned expression at the floor of the cave.

  "But as for himself, and us, I am not so sure. There are recesses inthis cave that cannot easily be discovered. He shall remain, and we willstay and take care of him, if he will."

  These calm words of the negro sounded like a reprieve to Penn's soul. Hecaught eagerly at the suggestion.

  "Yes, if there must be a separation, Pomp is right. If many go, it willbe believed that all are gone, and the rest can remain in safety."

  "You are all too generous towards me," said the old minister. "But Ihave nothing more to say. I am very patient. I am willing to acceptwhatever God sends, and to wait his own blessed time for it. When you,Penn, were sick in my house, and the ruffians were coming to kill you,and I could not determine what to do, the question was decided for me:Providence decided it by taking you, by what seemed a miracle, beyondthe reach of all of us. So I believe this question, which troubles usnow, will be decided for us soon. Something is to happen that will showus plainly what must be done."

  So it was: something was indeed to happen, sooner even than he supposed.