St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1894-12-15
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VMifH n! &Asi W. ,,A doah, with no
MNHIIE as1S.R sound to dis
UEilGIIII IIXE4kIW turb the quiet
7SSX of the summer
S9SNN day, save tie
- the pine trees
as they whis-
per 70 each other some tale, perhaps,
of fa- other scenes than these. OF days
when the peaceful valley was such
q scene of human strife that the birds
and bees, and even the sweet wild
roses that thrived there in unmolested
possession, disappeared, to return in
after years and find a picture OF utter
desolation. To be sure, the soil had
been enriched by the blue blood OF the
south. commingled with that OF the
brave boys in blue, as they fell to-
gether, fighting, each for a cause which
each thought right; but the record OF
the brave deeds of those who perished
then lives in history, while we have
put behind us. with determination
to forget. the bitter feelings OF sec
tionalism which possessed us for
time, and it is only now and then that
some relic of the past appears to re-
mind us of that unhappy period. and
then our thoughts are only sad, not
angry ones.
1t was while sojourning for short
time in the mountains overlooking the
Shenandoah valley that l came across
one of those living relics. She was
only q poor old negro woman. who had
been q slave, and who, even after
quarter Of a century Of freedom. had
almost failed to realize that she was
free. There was nothing particular to
recommend her to ones notice or call
attention to her forlorn situation. She
had been left all alone in the world
in her own words: 1.-THE last OF the
Vardens," and, judging from the grand
air with which she announced the fact.
would have scorned the idea that she
needed sympathy or pity, rs she stood
amid the ruins Of what had been a
grand old southern home before the
war-the home of the Vardens.
All that remained of the house, two
tumbling chimneys, was overgrown
by some kind of vine, which gave
sort Of picturesque beauty to the for
saken scene. A little to the left and
Just In sight of where the house had
been was an inclosure, in the ceAter
of which stood tall monument sur
rounded by smaller gravestones, mark
ing the last resting place of the Var
dens, who seemed to have turned their
back upon their earthly possessions
nd losA thn; oil
the shadow of the great monument,
leaving but one poor, crooked, feeble
remnant of their departed greatness
to occupy the rest of the estate and
keep their memory green in her faith
full old heart.
1t was a warm day in June that !
stood within the gates OF Rocky Mead,
rs the place was called, and listened
to part of the family history Of its
former owner from. the lips of old
Juliette, who invited me to a seat un-
der large tree, then seating herself
near by, after apologizing for sitting
in the presence of white lady, she
said: Use powful glad to see white
folks cep'n de common trash wat Ibis
down in de valley. De fus families is
all dade cep'n de Campbellses. Dey
place is mex to we alls. Our family
war de bes' in Furginia." As she said
this she Strengthened herself as much
Is age and rheumatism would permit.
"But." she continued, sadly, "dey's all
gone; all but me. Ibis down ut de
ole quarters, do da ism much lef. oney
one cabin, dat's mon big cnuff 70 me,
mos times; but wen gifts de raligy
in legs an hams. den de worp ain big
enuff. But has to stay an look after
de place, kase Use de las one lef oh
de family, an wen / meets ole Marse
Richard in de mex worf he's boun' to
AK me bote de ole place. Fus thing
he gwine say: Juliette, you allus
would be de las one, but reckon we's
all together now, an we unite in pray
err jes as he uster cherry evenin.
Marse Richard war . mitey good man
Ole miss. she de boss. She uster say
nobody eber gwine conker her, c2'
shore nuff. nobody nebber did. She
done all de conkerin'. 1t war all long
o her dat my Miss Mary war forced to
marry Marse Campbell's son, an den
oil de trubble como.
"My marster hab two sons, Marse
Dick an Robert Dey jine de army
one mornin' an Miss Mary tease de
life nearly outen me to 90 wild her
down de valley whar de fightin' war
gwine on. She say she jis wanter see
der las oh Dick and Bob. All de time
I know she was dyin' to see Cap'n
Hunter, kase she dade in lub wild him,
an me an Cap'n Hunters boy, Long
Jim,' was cotin' too. But we all
knowed ole miss don sot her min on
Miss Mary marryin' Marse VIII Camp
bell. He war orful rich, but he war
ugly as Satan-an dat's fac. Miss
Mary, SO sweet lookin' dat all de
young men in lub wild her an she
didn' care for none oh 'em, only Cap'n
Hunter. and she say she gwine marry
Jack Hunter or nobody. Ole miss say
de Hunters didn' b'long to de fust fam
blies an ef Cap'n Hunter tempted pay
'tention to ary chile OBJ her'n she
posed to interfere. So cose we das'n'
let her know 1t Cap'n Hunter were
down dar in de cave under de hill wild
Long JiEa' waiten for me to fotch him
. letter from Miss Mary, jes' If he
didn't know she gwine to break her
neck almost to sec hissef. Cap'n
Hunter war de grandes' lookin' man I
eber sot my eyes on. He eyes fairly
dance when he saw us bofe comm an
he jes tux Miss Mary up in he arms
and hole on to her and promise never
let her 60 no more.
But she blush all ober her face and
he say Jim to take de horse down to
the stream and cool him Oh; SO we TUX
de horse up in de woods back oh de
cave and tie him to tree, whiles me
and Jim sot down on the grass. Bime-
by we heard . big rumbljn' SCUM lex
thunder and saw de smoke in de valley
and Cap'n Hunter comm runnin' todes
rs wild Miss Mary lookin' like ghost
Cap'n Hunter kiss her ham and squeeze
It tight, and nay: Eood-by. little
sweetheart and she say: Good-by,
Jack Den h jump On hia horse an
rode away down into the noise and