Octavia, the Octoroon

by J. F. Lee

A negro is intensely religious, regardless of honesty and integrity; he will attend night services, shout, sing and pray, and then return home by some hen-roost and lift off a chanticleer which has been doing business at that stand for a half dozen years with as much nonchalance as if he, "Cuffee," were eating his dinner or taking a drink of water.

On this plantation there were two rival churches, Methodist and Baptist, and I would say here that, as a rule, Southern negroes belong to one or the other of these two large branches of the Christian Church.

During the summer these two churches held revival (and rival) services every night and Sunday for three or four weeks, at which there was a great awakening and a large ingathering of souls to the flock. For some reason it is thought the Methodist "nigger" can shout, sing and pray louder than his Baptist brother, while the latter can head him off in drinking whisky, which is counteracted by the Methodist brother's love for chickens and turkeys and their proclivities for lifting them off the roost.

At one of these night services, when everybody was happy, shouting, singing and praying, and the house was in an uproar and it seemed that pandemonium had turned loose, a large lighted lamp full of oil was turned over and exploded.

Negroes piled out of the windows and doors by the dozens. Some of the cooler heads pulled off their coats, and wrapping up the burning negroes, finally subdued the flames. Order was finally restored and all assembled again in the house. The pastor in charge then arose and said: "My bredderin an' sisterin, we is all run a narrer resk in bein' burn to deth, an' it shood be a terrible warnin' tu perpare for de burnin' dat awaits de ongodly, an' ef de richous am skasely saved whar shall de sinner an' ongodly appeer? Brudder Sam, you is de wus burnt nigger hear tu-nite, an' ef you keep on stealin' chickens you is gwine to go whar de wurm dieth not an' de fire is not squinched."

At this eloquent appeal on the part of the pastor moans and groans were heard all over the house, that have to be heard to be realized. Old Sister Ann, a two-hundred-and-fifty-pounder, got happy and began throwing her hands in the air, and popping them together, shouting, "Glory! Glory!" and started towards the pastor, saying, "Brudder Zeke, I'm so happy I wants tu hug you!" whereupon she gathered him, a weak man, in her herculean arms. He began to struggle to free himself from her vise-like grasp—she was about to squeeze the life out of him—but in vain! He then shouted for some one to "take her off! take her off!" Several of the brethren interfered and finally released the struggling pastor. After which he said: "Sister Ann, de wedder is tu hot, soap is tu scase, an' you is tu big an' fat tu git close to ennybody; so pleas kep yo' distunce."

Brother "Zeke," fearing a similar experience, announced services for the following night, and immediately dismissed the congregation. On the last Sunday of the meeting baptismal services were held at both churches, the Baptists assembling at the river to perform the rite by immersion, and the Methodists at their church to perform it by sprinkling or pouring.

At the latter church the pastor requested all the converts, which were fifty or sixty, to come forward to receive baptism, whereupon about a dozen responded. He stated that only about a fourth of the converts had come forward, and that if the rest were in the house they will now come forward and be baptized.

The preacher replied that he was very liberal in his views, and that he would baptize by sprinkling, pouring or immersion, and for each applicant to designate the mode, and it would be carried out. Those who had not come forward said that they "wanted tu go under de water." He said they would go to the river just as soon as he got through with those present. Whereupon those who had come forward told the preacher that as he had to go into the water they would be immersed also. The minister then announced for the congregation to assemble on the river to witness the baptisms. The Baptist and Methodist preachers reached the water about the same time, and after conferring with one another, agreed that the order would be for one minister to baptize one of his flock and the other one, and so on, alternately, until they were through. This took some time, as each had about fifty apiece to baptize. There was shouting and rejoicing during this baptismal scene. There were probably two thousand negroes present, those on adjoining plantations also being present. It is a fact that baptism in water will draw almost as large a crowd as a circus.

With the exception of shouting on the part of converts there was no noise or disturbance, and all went well until the last, the baptism of a large, fleshy sister, who, as she arose from the water clapped her hands and shouted: "I see my Jesus!" When she said this a negro, who had climbed into a willow tree leaning over the water, replied: "Yu lie, yu hypercritical old huzzie; tain't nuthin' but a snappin' mud turcle yu seed, an' hit's a pity he hadn't kotched yu by de nose an' drowned yu, so as yu would not tell lies enny more on 'spectable niggers." As he said this the tree broke, precipitating him into water twenty feet deep, and as he could not swim he went straight to the bottom. Both of the parsons were silent spectators of this last act, and were making for the shore as the congregation sang "Pull for the Shore." They had been fishers, as it were, of souls; now that an opportunity presented itself, they in reality would have to be fishers of men—at least one would have to be. The Methodist, thinking the Baptist more used to water than he, waited for the Baptist to strike out for the drowning man, and the Baptist did the same for the Methodist. The latter, seeing that the man would drown if no assistance were rendered, and being the nearest, swam to him. The drowning man grabbed him around the waist and both sank. The Baptist parson, being in the water, thought he was duty bound to render assistance, and swam to the scene just as they arose, when the Methodist grabbed the Baptist around the waist, and all three went under together. Things were getting serious, as it would be the third time the man went under. One of the men on shore succeeded in time to catch the first man, who was sinking the last time, by the hair, and by superhuman jerks released him from the parson and succeeded in carrying him to the shore. As this was being done another negro on shore swam and caught the exhausted Methodist parson by the wool, jerking him off from the Baptist, and carried him to shore. Another wicked negro on the bank shouted: "Fair play; I'll be darned if the Baptis' shell drown," and made for him, catching him by his cue and landing him safely on land. The congregation could have consistently sung, during the last three acts, "Pull for the Shore." As the submerged negroes were resting one skeptical darky shouted out, "You's all Baptis' now." Thus ended this baptismal and almost tragical scene.