In the brush

by Hamilton W. Pierson

Among the visitors at the Springs was one who was a very wealthy man, a large slaveholder, and a very great invalid. He was a cripple, with one limb much shorter and smaller than the other, and was compelled to use two crutches to walk at all. As I saw him mingling with the visitors, I observed that he was profane, rollicking, genial, and exceedingly social in his nature. I do not now remember how I became acquainted with him, or whether or not I was introduced to him at all. But from the first he attached himself to me, and sought my company. If I sat down alone upon the piazza, he would come and take a seat near me, and we engaged in long conversations. I explained to him in the greatest detail the work in which I was engaged, and the operations of the American Bible Society at home and abroad. I described to him the Bible House in New York, and the process of making Bibles—commencing with the printing of them in the higher stories, and passing them through different hands from story to story below, until they reached the depository, well-bound and beautiful specimens of the art of book-making. I told him of the wealth and business character of the men who acted as managers of the society, and gratuitously supervised and controlled all its operations. Thoroughly irreligious in all his training and associations, my statements were new to him, and he was greatly interested in them. He thought the whole thing was "grand" and "magnificent," and was enthusiastic in his commendations of me and my work. When I was absent for a day or two for the purpose of meeting the people of some neighborhood at a week-day appointment, he was among the first to meet me on my return to the hotel, and inquired with the greatest interest as to the success of my labors. In our repeated interviews I talked with him frankly, freely, and fully, in regard to his own spiritual condition, urged him to make religion a personal matter, yield his heart to Christ, and live henceforth for the glory of God, and the good of his fellow-men. The openness of his nature and the frankness of his expressions upon this subject were remarkable. His belief in the Bible was implicit. He did not seem to have a shadow of doubt in regard to its truth. He told me that, from the nature of his disease, he was liable to die at any moment, and if he died he knew he should be lost. He did not seem to have a particle of doubt on this subject. Sometimes, in deep consciousness of the struggle within him, he would say:

"The trouble with me, sir, is, that I have no stability—I just go with the crowd I am in. When I am with a man like you, I wish I was a Christian. I would give the world to be a Christian. But when I am with W—— and G——" (naming the chief gamblers at the hotel) "and their crowd, I am just carried away with them. I can't help myself. If I could always be in the company of men like you, I believe I could be a good man and a Christian."

I prayed with him in my room at different times, and gave him all the instruction and encouragement in my power.

On learning from me that I was a native of the State of New York, and was familiar with the free States, he had a great many questions to ask in regard to them. He had never been out of the slave States. He inquired particularly in regard to the schools, and whether there were any schools where colored boys could be educated. I gave him the name of Oberlin and other schools that then admitted colored students. He told me that he had been confined to his bed seven years; that the greater part of the thigh-bone of one of his limbs had come out; that his body-servant had nursed, washed, and taken care of him like a baby all this time; and that in reward for these services he had offered to grant him and his two boys their freedom, and give the boys a good education. "But," said he, "I don't hire any overseer now. He is my overseer, and that makes him the biggest nigger in T—— County, and he says he 'don't want no freedom,' but he would like to have his boys sent to school. Now, sir, if you will find any school in the North that will take them, I will send them to school just as long as there is any use of their going."

I afterward wrote to several institutions on the subject, and sent their replies to him at his home. He was very anxious to know positively if he could send them to the State of New York, and said: "I can not send them to Illinois or Indiana, and I can not understand how they can be sent to New York. They are all free States." I told him that Illinois and Indiana had passed laws prohibiting colored persons coming into those States, but New York had not. He then wanted to know why this was so, and I told him that one reason was, that New York was so much farther from the slave States, and less likely to be overrun by free colored people. He at length became satisfied upon this point, a very important matter with him, as the sequel will show.

On one occasion, in explaining to him the nature of my Bible-work, and the extent of the territory committed to my supervision, he interrupted me with—

"That will include T—— County, my county. You must certainly come and see me when you reach that part of the State, and stay with me while you are in that region."

I thanked him for his invitation, and told him that I should be certain to call on him. This invitation was often repeated, and renewed with special earnestness when we separated. A long time elapsed before I visited all the intervening counties, organized or reorganized Bible societies, preached and "lifted collections" in the more important churches, ordered Bibles from New York, secured the appointment of colporteurs, and completed all the arrangements for a thorough canvass and supply of the counties. But after several months I reached T—— County; and, as my friend resided some distance from the county-seat, I completed all my arrangements for the supply of the county before making him my promised visit. This accomplished, I mounted my fleet horse and rode several miles to his residence. His welcome was as warm, cordial, and hearty as words and acts could make it. A long-absent brother could not have been received with greater demonstrations of joy. After I had laid aside my leggins and spurs, washed myself, and a troop of big and little house-servants, who were rushing about eager to render some service in welcoming me to their master's hospitalities, had brushed me and properly cared for all my wants, and the commotion created by the arrival of a stranger at a large plantation had somewhat subsided, my host said to me:

"The blue-grass in my pastures is knee-high to your horse. Now just stay with me a few weeks, and let your horse run there. The weather is hot; you are a hard worker. You need rest, and your horse too. It will do you both good. Just stay with me, and I will kill my biggest, fattest turkeys, and give you the very best that the plantation affords."

I thanked him for his cordial welcome, told him that I could not spare so much time, but would stay with him as long as I possibly could.