Army Life in a Black Regiment | Page 5

that "double, double, toil and trouble," which is
the elementary vexation of the drill-master, that they more rarely
mistake their left for their right, and are more grave and sedate while
under instruction. The extremes of jollity and sobriety, being greater
with them, are less liable to be intermingled; these companies can be
driven with a looser rein than my former one, for they restrain
themselves; but the moment they are dismissed from drill every tongue
is relaxed and every ivory tooth visible. This morning I wandered about
where the different companies were target-shooting, and their glee was
contagious. Such exulting shouts of "Ki! ole man," when some steady
old turkey-shooter brought his gun down for an instant's aim, and then
unerringly hit the mark; and then, when some unwary youth fired his
piece into the ground at half-cock such guffawing and delight, such
rolling over and over on the grass, such dances of ecstasy, as made the
"Ethiopian minstrelsy" of the stage appear a feeble imitation.
Evening. Better still was a scene on which I stumbled to-night.
Strolling in the cool moonlight, I was attracted by a brilliant light
beneath the trees, and cautiously approached it. A circle of thirty or
forty soldiers sat around a roaring fire, while one old uncle, Cato by
name, was narrating an interminable tale, to the insatiable delight of his

audience. I came up into the dusky background, perceived only by a
few, and he still continued. It was a narrative, dramatized to the last
degree, of his adventures in escaping from his master to the Union
vessels; and even I, who have heard the stories of Harriet Tubman, and
such wonderful slave-comedians, never witnessed such a piece of
acting. When I came upon the scene he had just come unexpectedly
upon a plantation-house, and, putting a bold face upon it, had walked
up to the door.
"Den I go up to de white man, berry humble, and say, would he please
gib ole man a mouthful for eat?
"He say he must hab de valeration ob half a dollar.
"Den I look berry sorry, and turn for go away.
"Den he say I might gib him dat hatchet I had.
"Den I say" (this in a tragic vein) "dat I must hab dat hatchet for defend
myself from de dogs!"
[Immense applause, and one appreciating auditor says, chuckling, "Dat
was your arms, ole man," which brings down the house again.]
"Den he say de Yankee pickets was near by, and I must be very keerful.
"Den I say, 'Good Lord, Mas'r, am dey?'"
Words cannot express the complete dissimulation with which these
accents of terror were uttered, this being precisely the piece of
information he wished to obtain.
Then he narrated his devices to get into the house at night and obtain
some food, how a dog flew at him, how the whole household, black and
white, rose in pursuit, how he scrambled under a hedge and over a high
fence, etc., all in a style of which Gough alone among orators can give
the faintest impression, so thoroughly dramatized was every syllable.
Then he described his reaching the river-side at last, and trying to
decide whether certain vessels held friends or foes.
"Den I see guns on board, and sure sartin he Union boat, and I pop my
head up. Den I been-a-tink [think] Seceshkey hab guns too, and my
head go down again. Den I hide in de bush till morning. Den I open my
bundle, and take ole white shut and tie him on ole pole and wave him,
and ebry time de wind blow, I been-a-tremble, and drap down in de
bushes," because, being between two fires, he doubted whether friend
or foe would see his signal first. And so on, with a succession of tricks
beyond Moliere, of acts of caution, foresight, patient cunning, which

were listened to with infinite gusto and perfect comprehension by every
listener.
And all this to a bivouac of negro soldiers, with the brilliant fire
lighting up their red trousers and gleaming from their shining black
faces, eyes and teeth all white with tumultuous glee. Overhead, the
mighty limbs of a great live-oak, with the weird moss swaying in the
smoke, and the high moon gleaming faintly through.
Yet to-morrow strangers will remark on the hopeless, impenetrable
stupidity in the daylight faces of many of these very men, the solid
mask under which Nature has concealed all this wealth of mother-wit.
This very comedian is one to whom one might point, as he hoed lazily
in a cotton-field, as a being the light of whose brain had utterly gone
out; and this scene seems like coming by night upon some conclave of
black beetles, and finding them engaged, with green-room and
foot-lights, in enacting