When the day for the meeting at the county seat came, nearly the entire
male population of the county, white and colored, were present, and
the negro companies were out in force, marching and parading up and
down in the same field in which the white troops had paraded just
before going off to the war. Many remarked on it that day. It served
to emphasize the change that a few years had brought. When the parade
was over, the companies took possession of the court green, and were
allowed to break ranks preparatory to being called under arms again,
when they were to be addressed on the issues of the campaign. The
negroes, with a few white men among them—so few as not to make the
slightest impression in the great dusky throng—were assembled on the
court green. The whites were outside.
There was gravity, but good-humor.
Steve Allen, particularly, appeared to be in high spirits. To see the
way the crowd was divided it might have looked as if they were hostile
troops. Only, the whites apparently had no arms. But they had almost
the formation of soldiery waiting at rest. Steve sauntered up into the
crowd of negroes and made his way to where Leech stood well surrounded,
talking to some of the leaders.
“Well, Colonel, how goes it? You seem to have a good many troops
to-day. We heard you were going to have a muster, and we came down to
see the drill.”
The speech was received good-temperedly by the negroes, many of whom
Steve spoke to by name good-humoredly.
Leech did not appreciate the jest, and moved off with a scowl. The
young man, however, was not to be shaken off so. He followed the other
to the edge of the crowd, and there his manner changed.
“Mr. Leech,” he said, slowly, with sudden seriousness and with that
deep intonation which always called up to Leech that night in the woods
when he had been waylaid and kidnapped. “Mr. Leech, you are on trial
to-day. Don’t make a false step. You are the controlling spirit of
these negroes. They await but your word. So do we. If a hand is lifted
you will never be Governor. We have stood all we propose to stand. You
are standing on a powder magazine. I give you warning.”
He turned off and walked back to his own crowd.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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