A FOOL'S ERRAND & Its Sequel, Bricks Without Straw. Albion Winegar Tourgée
which are to be feared, perhaps a score of years hence. And this can be prevented only by a thorough change in the tone and bent of the people. How much prospect there is of such change being wrought by the spontaneous action of the Southern people, I do not know: I fear, not much.
"It seems to me that the only way to effect it is by the influence of Northern immigration. Of course the old economies of the plantation and the negro-quarters will have to give way. The labor of that section must be organized, or rather taught to manage itself, to become automatic in its operations. The former master is not prepared to do this: First, because he does not know how; and, secondly, because the freedman has no confidence in his old master's desire to promote his interests. There will be exceptions; but this will be the rule. In this re-organization, I think men who have been acquainted with free labor will be able to give valuable aid, and accomplish good results. I look and hope for considerable movements of population, both from the North to the South, and vice versa; because I think it is only by such intermingling of the people of the two sections that they can ever become one, and the danger of future evil be averted. Should the present controversy be concluded, and new States erected in the recently rebellious sections, without a large increase of the Northern element in their populations, I am confident that the result will be but temporary, and the future peace of the country insecure.
"As to the social and financial prospects of persons removing there, I suppose it depends very much on the persons themselves, and the particular locality to which they go. I should say you were well fitted for such pioneer work; and, if you should conclude to go, I wish you all success and happiness in your new home, and trust that you may find there friends as devoted and sincere as you have hitherto secured by an upright and honorable life.
"May God bless you and yours!
"ENOS MARTIN."
By this letter, both the notions of the Fool and the fears of his wife were strengthened. Metta, seeing him grow more and more settled in his determination, did not think it worth while to offer any further opposition; but consoled herself with the reflection that her husband's health was the thing of prime importance, and smothered her fear with a blind, baseless hope, that, because what the purposed doing was a thing born of good motive and kindly feeling, it would be prospered. Some people call that "faith;" and it is no doubt a great consolation, perhaps the only one, when reason and common sense are squarely opposed to the course one is taking.
CHAPTER VI
ALL LOST BUT HONOR
WHILE the matter was in this unsettled state, the Fool received a letter from Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn of Pipersville, a town in which his command had been for some time quartered just before he had quitted the service, to which fact, among other things, he was indebted for the honor of Colonel Vaughn's, acquaintance.
Some few days after the collapse of the Confederacy, a gentleman had presented himself at the headquarters of the Fool in Pipersville, and directed the orderly in attendance to announce that, —
"Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn desired to surrender, and take the oath of allegiance."
Thereupon he was ushered into the presence of our hero, and with considerable pomposity announced the fact again. Somehow he did not seem to the young soldier to have that air of one accustomed to camps and the usage of armies which was to be expected from a veteran of a four-years' war, who came in at the last moment to give up his sword, after all his comrades had been paroled and had departed. It is true, he had on the regulation gray suit of "the enemy;" and the marks of rank upon the collar might at one time have been intended for the grade he had announced. He wore a light slouch hat, which, though not of any prescribed pattern, had evidently seen much service of some kind. But the surrender brought to light some queer specimens of uniform and equipments, so that Colonel Servosse would not have been surprised at any thing that an officer might have worn. There was something, however, in the loud and somewhat effusive greeting, which, even allowing all that it was possible should be credited to laxity of discipline, showed that the man before him was not accustomed to association with military men. So he asked quietly, —
"Of what regiment, sir?"
"Colonel Vaughn, — Colonel Vaughn," said that worthy, depositing himself upon a camp stool, as if in assertion of his familiarity with military surroundings. "Well, sir," he continued in a loud and somewhat assuming tone, "you've got us, overpowered us at last. It was the Irish and Germans that did it. I had no idea you could get so many of them. They just swarmed on your side. The Yankees never could have whipped us in the world by themselves, — never. But it's over. I surrender, — give up, — quit. I'm not one of those that want to keep up a fuss always. I've come in to give myself up, and go to work now to try and make bread and meat, sir, — bread and meat. You uns have freed all the niggers, so that we have nobody to work for us. Have to come to it ourselves. Haven't you got a mule you could let me have, Colonel? Hain't got no money; but Zek'le Vaughn's credit's tolerably good yet, I reckon. Lost forty odd niggers, — as likely ones, too, as ever stood 'twixt soil and sunshine, — and now have got to go to plowing — at my age. It's hard; but we've got to have bread and meat, — bread and meat, sir. Hard, but can't be helped. Did all I could agin ye; but here you are. Let me take the oath. I want to be sworn, and go to plowing before the sun gets too hot."
"What regiment did you say, sir?" repeated the officer.
"Oh, never mind the regiment!" said the other: "that's all over now. Just Say Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn: that's enough. Everybody knows Colonel Vaughn, — Zeke Vaughn. I shouldn't wonder if you should find they knew me up at headquarters."
"It is necessary, sir, that I have the name and number of your regiment before you can be paroled," said the officer sharply.
"Ah, yes! the regiment. Well, Colonel, you are mighty particular, it seems to me. What difference can it make now, I should like to know?" he asked.
"It is necessary to identify you," was the reply.
"Ay, yes! I see. You are afraid I might break my parole, and give you some trouble. I confess I have not been whipped; but I am overpowered, — overpowered, sir, — and I surrender in good faith. I give my honor, sir, — the honor of a Southern gentleman, — as well as my oath, sir!" he said, with a great show of offended dignity.
"That may be, Colonel," responded the officer; "but our orders require that you shall be fully identified."
"Well, well! that's very proper. Just say Colonel Vaughn of Pipersville: that will identify me. Everybody in the State knows me. No use of my trying to get away. I shall be right here, when you want to find me, ready to come up, and be hung, if that is to be the end of it. Oh, I meant it! I was one of the original 'Secesh,' — one of the immortal thirteen that voted for it in this county. I never would have stopped fightin' ye if I'd had my way. You'd never 'a' got here if I'd had my way! But that's all over now. I want my parole, so I can go home, and go to killin' grass!"
"When I learn your regiment and command, I will fill out the blank," answered the officer decisively.
"Oh, yes! the regiment. Well, Colonel, the fact is, — ahem! — that I've, — ahem! I've done forgot what number it was."
"What! forgotten the number of your regiment?"
"Dog-goned if I hain't, — slick as you please. You see, wasn't in one of the regular regiments."
"Well, what was your command? to what division or brigade were you attached?"
"Well, I wa'n't exactly attached to any."
"Did you have an independent command?"
"No: not exactly."
"Were you on staff duty?"
"Not exactly."
"Will you tell me what you were 'exactly'?"
"Well, you see, Colonel, I was just sorter sloshin' around loose-like."
"Orderly!"said