Stringtown on the Pike

A Novel by John Uri Lloyd

Chapter Ten

THE FEARFUL STORM OF NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1863

The calm which had subdued, for the time, the usually active and sometimes boisterous proceedings of the villagers was in impressive contrast with the wild uproar of winter tempest. The storm raged, if possible, with increasing violence in the utter darkness around the building in which lay Colonel Luridson's stark corpse, surrounded by many who watched, but no one who deeply mourned. The judge at last rose, and was about to speak, for the very silence had become oppressive, when the door of the room was flung open, and old Cupe, the faithful slave of the 'Corn Bug,' with the incoming blast burst into the midst of the ompany. Dazzled by the brightness, he stared about the room, and it could be seen that he was benumbed and suffering with cold. His garments were covered with ice, his beard was hidden in frost. Catching sight of the physician, neglecting the bright stove that must have seemed so grateful, he impulsively exclaimed:

'Quick, Doctah, quick, Ma'se am dyin'; he wan's yo' too, Pahson; quick, Pahson!' The doctor went to the door, stepped outside, returned, and closed the strong valve against the blast. 'Not this night, Cupe. A man would freeze before he could find the cabin.'

'Yo' must go, Ma'se Dock, yo' mus' go, fo' nebbah will Ma'se lib till mahn'n'.'

'I will not go this night,' said the doctor emphatically. 'It is better for one to die than that two should perish.'

After a period of silence the negro's self-possession was restored, and he became again the garrulous Cupe, prone to argue regardless of the importance of the message to be delivered.

'Et doan make no diff'ence nohow,' he muttered, 'dah ain't no use in a doctah when deff comes a-walkin' in. Niggah signs am suah, but doctah stuff am unsahtin. De sign am not t' be disembayed. What fo' did Cupe walk absent-minde' like inte' de house t'-day carryin' an axe on his shouldah' Didn't Cupe know dat sech a sign mean' suah deff t' some pusson, an' fo' de Lawd, de debbil make him do dat awful ting. An' when Cupe t'ink ob de awfulness ob de transaction an' step back t' lebe de room, dah settin, in de op'n doo'way wah dat dawg Dgawge; an' he jest look up in Cupe's eyes es sah'ful-like es ebah a dawg could look, es ef he say t' his old frien', Cupe, yo' hab gone an' done it, suah.' An' then when Cupe cotch de awfulness ob de 'stake an' look down at Dgawge quistionin'-like, de dawg raise his head an' open his mouf an' howl long an' skeary-like, lookin' all de time in Cupe's face es moanful es de young missus in de big house on her dyin' bed look, in de long-ago. God save Ma'se, dah am no 'scapin' de aftahcomes ob sech signs es dese. De sign in de ashes de night dat de boy come out er Bloody Hollah done pinted t' Ma'se dead dis New Yeah night. De axe sign t'-day done say he gwine t' die, an' den de dawg what set in de doo'way an' howl am de sartin sign ob deff, case he see deff com'n! But de su'est sign ob all' (and Cupe's voice became yet lower and more measured), 'de su'est sign ob all am dat de cedah tree limbs what Ma'se planted am es long es a coffin now ' Cupe measure dem ag'in t'-day. Yo' kin stay heah, Doctah, dah ain't no use in yoah stuff nohow ef deff am in de room. De signs what nebbah fail am pintin' t' sahtin' deff, dah ain't no good in doctah's stuff now.'

Having thus disposed of the doctor, the messenger turned to Mr. Jones.

'Ma'se wants de preachah. He hab not ax fo' de doctah; he say: 'Cupe, go fo' de pahson, I mus' see de pahson.' An' den Cupe say, sed he: 'Ma'se did yo' make frien' wid de pahson like ole Cupe say t' do?'

'Shet up yoah black mouf an' go fo' de pahson, an' doan wait too long, fo' I feel pow'ful weak-like,' say Ma'se, an he give Cupe sech a look as t' say dah ain't no time t' lose.

'An' de face ob de dead missus rise up, an' Cupe head de words ob de promise he made dat sah'ful night t' de honey chile what am an angel now. Den he say t' Ma'se: Ma'se, I swear t' yoah deah muddah dat nebbah de weddah should be too hot an nebbah too cole fo' Cupe ter sahve de chile Heaben sent t' her, but dis am de las' time ole Cupe kin sahve yo', Mas'se,' and den Cup lite out an' heah he am. Ma'se Preachah, yo' will go, suah yo' will; de sign mix yo' an' Ma'se Honey up wondahful-like.'

The preacher hesitated, but not from fear of the storm. He looked at the sheet that covered the lank form of the colonel, then replied, speaking more to the audience than to the negro:

'I am not a minister ' but ' a murderer.' The negro gazed at him in wonder, then following the parson's glance, he stepped to the sheet and raised it cautiously, far enough only to give a view of the face of the colonel, and started back with staring eyes.

'Fo' de Lawd, Ma'se Preachah an' did yo' slew de colonel?'

'I did.'

The negro's self-composure returned immediately.

'Who'd ob b'lebed it, Ma'se! An' yo' so weak-like. Yo' am a bettah man dan yo' looks t' be, Ma'se Preachah, an' ole Cupe knows yo' sahved him right. Go t' Ma'se Hardman, nebbah mind the colonel.' The preacher made no reply.

'Doan David slew Gliah,' Cupe continued: 'doan de Lawd slew de wicked Belshazzah, doan de people slew Stephen in de name of de Lawd an' doan yo' slew de wicked colonel case de Lawd want him killed?'

The parson looked inquiringly at the judge.

'Parson,' responded the judge, 'your resignation has never been accepted by the church. You are yet legally a minister. The church must accept the resignation you wrote in order to consummate the act.'

'But the murder?'

'That point remains to be established. If this case comes to trial, the evidence may show that you acted in self-defence. If I am not mistaken the colonel cocked his pistol while you were still talking and standing defenceless with both hands exposed. He half drew his pistol before you grasped his throat. If I am correct, he now holds a loaded pistol in his hand. Let us see.' And raising the sheet, the judge carefully drew the colonel's right hand from its resting place, where it had fallen partly covered by the coat, and with it came a tightly clasped pistol.

'I saw him draw the pistol,' said I; 'it caught in his overcoat's lining and got tangled up.'

The judge regarded me curiously. 'Do not forget what you saw, child.' Then, turning again to the minister:

'Another second,' he said, 'and you would have been a dead man, Parson; self-preservation is the first impulse; you were unarmed and had made no aggressive motion. You did your duty, Mr. Jones, and did it bravely; the case is self-defence; and, whatever may be true of New England, you need fear neither judge nor jury in Kentucky.'

Still the parson hesitated.

'Go!' said the judge in a tone of authority, pointing to the door; 'humanity calls.'

Drawing his overcoat tightly around him, without speaking a word, the parson moved to the door, opened it, and passed out.

'De end am not yet,' said old Cupe, speaking to himself; 'de sign pinted t' two men dead dis night, but de colonel wah not one ob dem. Heah am one what de sign miss. Am de sign wrong' Fool,' he murmered, 'fool nigger, not t' know dat two deffs could n't come alone in de face ob sech signs. Ef et am moah dan one, et am not two, et am free or seven er nine.'

'Do you remember what the 'Corn Bug' said to Mr. Jones the last time they faced each other in this room?' asked the teacher, heedless of Cupe's mutterings.

'Yes,' said the judge.

'I have it written,' interrupted the grocer's boy; turning to his stenographic book, he read: 'You haven't the spunk of a sick rabbit and you haven't the energy of a sleeping possum; you wouldn't cross the street in a shower to save the soul of a saint, and you wouldn't dare crook your finger in the face of a turtle-dove for fear it would get pecked'.'


Typed by Sharon Franklin, M. L. S., Boone County Public Library; Manager, Walton Branch

Note:

To carry an implement of outdoor work into the house was a sign of death. To such an extent was this believed that the artist who sketched the portrait of old Cupe could not prevail on him to enter the house with the hoe on which he was leaning.

Next Chapter
Stringtown on the Pike

Stringtown on the Pike: Table of Contents

Florence Kentucky History