Imperium in Imperio: A Study of the Negro Race Problem | Page 5

desk was arranged in a proper manner and the teacher took his pen

and wrote two names, now famous the world over.
"Bernard Belgrave, age 9 years."
"Belton Piedmont, age 8 years."
Under such circumstances Belton began his school career.

CHAPTER III.
THE PARSON'S ADVICE.
With heavy heart and with eyes cast upon the ground, Mrs. Piedmont
walked back home after leaving Belton with his teacher. She had
intended to make a special plea for her boy, who had all along
displayed such precociousness as to fill her bosom with the liveliest
hopes. But the teacher was so repulsive in manner that she did not have
the heart to speak to him as she had intended.
She saw that the happenings of the morning had had the effect of
deepening a contemptuous prejudice into hatred, and she felt that her
child's school life was to be embittered by the harshest of maltreatment.
No restraint was put upon the flogging of colored children by their
white teachers, and in Belton's case his mother expected the worst.
During the whole week she revolved the matter in her mind. There was
a conflict in her bosom between her love and her ambition. Love
prompted her to return and take her son away from school. Ambition
bade her to let him stay. She finally decided to submit the whole matter
to her parson, whom she would invite to dinner on the coming Sunday.
The Sabbath came and Mrs. Piedmont aroused her family bright and
early, for the coming of the parson to take dinner was a great event in
any negro household. The house was swept as clean as a broom of
weeds tied together could make it. Along with the family breakfast, a
skillet of biscuits was cooked and a young chicken nicely baked.

Belton was very active in helping his mother that morning, and she
promised to give him a biscuit and a piece of chicken as a reward after
the preacher was through eating his dinner. The thought of this coming
happiness buoyed Belton up, and often he fancied himself munching
that biscuit and biting that piece of chicken. These were items of food
rarely found in that household.
Breakfast over, the whole family made preparations for going to
Sunday school. Preparations always went on peacefully until it came to
combing hair. The older members of the family endured the ordeal very
well; but little "Lessie" always screamed as if she was being tortured,
and James Henry received many kicks and scratches from Belton
before he was through combing Belton's hair.
The Sunday school and church were always held in the day-school
building. The Sunday school scholars were all in one class and recited
out of the "blue back spelling book." When that was over, members of
the school were allowed to ask general questions on the Bible, which
were answered by anyone volunteering to do so. Everyone who had in
any way caught a new light on a passage of scripture endeavored, by
questioning, to find out as to whether others were as wise as he, and if
such was not the case, he gladly enlightened the rest.
The Sunday school being over, the people stood in groups on the
ground surrounding the church waiting for the arrival of the parson
from his home, Berryville, a town twelve miles distant. He was pastor
of three other churches besides the one at Winchester, and he preached
at each one Sunday in the month. After awhile he put in his appearance.
He was rather small in stature, and held his head somewhat to one side
and looked at you with that knowing look of the parrot. He wore a pair
of trousers that had been black, but were now sleet from much wear.
They lacked two inches of reaching down to the feet of his high-heeled
boots. He had on a long linen cluster that reached below his knees.
Beneath this was a faded Prince Albert coat and a vest much too small.
On his head there sat, slightly tipped, a high-topped beaver that seemed
to have been hidden between two mattresses all the week and taken out
and straightened for Sunday wear. In his hand he held a walking cane.

Thus clad he came toward the church, his body thrown slightly back,
walking leisurely with the air of quiet dignity possessed by the man
sure of his standing, and not under the necessity of asserting it
overmuch in his carriage.
The brothers pulled off their hats and the sisters put on their best smiles
as the parson approached. After a cordial handshake all around, the
preacher entered the church to begin the services. After singing a hymn
and praying, he took for his text the following "passige of scripter:"
"It air harder fur