| | 1 | Author: | Harrison, C. C. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A Virginia Girl in the First Year of the War.  | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE only association I have with my old home in Virginia that is
not one of unmixed happiness relates to the time immediately
succeeding the execution of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Our
homestead was in Fairfax, at a considerable distance from the
theater of that tragic episode; and, belonging as we did to a
family among the first in the State to manumit slaves—our
grandfather having set free those which came to him by inheritance,
and the people who served us being hired from their owners and
remaining in our employ through years of kindliest relations—there
seemed to be no especial reason for us to share in the apprehension
of an uprising by the blacks. But there was the fear—unspoken, or
pooh-poohed at by the men who served as mouth-pieces for our
community—dark, boding, oppressive, and altogether hateful. I can
remember taking it to bed with me at night, and awaking suddenly
oftentimes to confront it through a vigil of nervous terror of
which it never occurred to me to speak to any one. The notes of
whip-poor-wills in the sweet-gum swamp near the stable, the
mutterings of a distant thunder-storm, even the rustle of the night
wind in the oaks that shaded my window, filled me with nameless
dread. In the day-time it seemed impossible to associate suspicion
with those familiar tawny or sable faces that surrounded us. We
had seen them for so many years smiling or saddening with the
family joys or sorrows; they were so guileless, so patient, so
satisfied. What subtle influence was at work that should transform
them into tigers thirsting for our blood? The idea was
preposterous. But when evening came again, and with it the hour
when the colored people (who in summer and autumn weather kept
astir half the night) assembled themselves together for dance or
prayer-meeting, the ghost that refused to be laid was again at
one's elbow. Rusty bolts were drawn and rusty fire-arms loaded.
A watch was set where never before had eye or ear been lent to such
a service. Peace, in short, had flown from the borders of
Virginia. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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