Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 October 1875 — “ MAMMY.” [ARTICLE]

“ MAMMY.”

It was a stony, neglected field, powdered with ox-eyed daisies and dotted with dandelions—golden dandelions that look like spots of sunshine on the green grass and among the crevices of the rocks and the gnarled roots of the oak trees that were scattered here and there. There were carriages and buggies standing aboilfef and horses, . some tied to the lower branches of the trees, others held by the little negroes belonging to the plantation. In this field, away off beyond the house, was a square wooden railing, painted black, and within it were grassy mounds, some large, some small; and now in one corner had been dug another long, deep hole, and the earth lay scattered around it red and fresh. Friends and neighbors had drawn near, some within the mclosure, others leaning against the black railing. The coffin had been reverently lowered ; and, while the sun slowly sank and bathed the grain in a flood of mellow light, and fiickered among the leaves that trembled overhead, clear and solemn on the summer air fell the words: “lam the resurrection and the life.’’ “Earth to earth; dust to dust; ashes to ashes.” And each time there was the thud of falling earth and the rattling of clods, and the hollow answer that so many aching hearts can recall; and there were half.repressed cries and chokingsobs, and still the grave was surely and inevitably filled; another mouncl was raised and spaded into shape; stones were placed, one at the head, another at the foot, to mark the sleeper’s place; and then she was left alone, the sweet young wife and mother. As Mr. Larrantree and his sister returned to his desolate home his eyes rested on his children, Nellie and Grace, two little, motherless things, with fair, curling hair and innocent blue eyes like those in the coffin ouUin the field. They sat on the piazza steps in little white frocks, their hair tied back with black ribbons; and Mammy sat between them in a white turban and cape and a black dress she had worn before their mother was born. She was about seventy years old, with a low, black forehead full of wrinkles, and a broad, flat mouth containing only the yellow remains of teeth, and the rim ot hair that peeped out from under her turban had been gray for many a year. The little black eyes had retained their brightness and cunning, but the balls had turned yellow and the lids grown flabby and Mammy could not fasten the children’s clothes so deftly as she had their mother’s; but ah! how indignantly would they have repelled the idea that she was growing or could grow useless and her place be better filled! How obedient they were to her delegated authority! and how tolerant of the little shakes and jerks she sometimes administered! How trustful of her love and emulous of the praises she was lavish in bestowing! Yes, Mammy, you were wrinkled and black, and old and ugly; you were ignorant and narrow-minded and superstitious, but you were true to your nurslings and tender as true; and they gave you back your love with a fervor which neither time nor taste nor reason could affect. As Mr. Larrantree and his sister approached, Mammy stood up and the children sprang forward to meet them. “ Papa,” said Grace, “ what you all been doin’ ? Mammy said for us not to go, you would be mad. Would you be mad,

papa?” He beld her in his arms and his eyes ■were blind with tears: “Mammy was right, baby—papr did not want you to go.” “ An’, papa, what you reckon?” asked Nelly. “ Mammy was tellin’ us ’bout Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Wolf, an’ she cried ’cause Mr. Wolf eat Mr. Rabbit up. Mammy keeps cryin’ when ain’t anybody been doin’ a thing to her; an’, papa, ” continued the child, beginning to cry herself, “I want mamma, an’ Mammy says she’s gone to sleep, an’ the door is shut, ah" we can’t get in. Can’t we go in, papa ? Won’t you wake mamma up?” How could he answer except by tears? And poor old Mammy! As night came on and the children grew tired of play or were sickened with sweets, it almost broke her heart to see the blue eyes full of tears and the corners of the little mouths drawn down, while the red lips trembled and the childish voices cried over and over again; “I want my mamma: I want my mamma!” And as night after night the black ribbons were laid aside, and the motherless children put on their little white nightgowns, Mammy racked her poor old brain for marvelous tales, and got down on her stifi'old knees by the little trundle-bed, and placed her left arm under Nelly’s head, while she patted Grace’s shoulder with her right hand till she was stiff and sore,'and the white turban bobbed suspiciously up and down; but there was no break in the chain of events that took place between “Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Wolf,”and Mammy did not steal her arm away till the curly heads were motionless and the little lips had ceased to ask why mamma slept so long. < Daysdragged slowly by, and crystallized into weeks, and at length the governess had come, and Mr. Larrantree’s sister felt

compelled to return to the charge of her own family. Before she did so, however, she requested that Miss Ennerby would be vgry tender with the children, as they were of a nervous temperament, and had been accustomed to much indulgence. “ I shall not deny them any reasonable indulgence,” said Miss Ennerby stiffly; “ but children have norightto be nervous. I shall make it my business to conquer the tendency.” “ I do not mean to say that they arenerv ous,” replied Mrs. Allerton, who was very unfavorably impressed by her new acquaintance. “ I meant merely to call your attention to the fact that they are of a nervous temperament, and should be favored with greater indulgence of a certain nature than ” “ Permit me to differ with you,” said Miss Ennerby. “My decided opinion is that they should be hardened before this tendency becomes a radical evil.” As Mrs. Allerton regarded the .light, cold eyes, the short lashes, the thin lips and square jaw of the woman before her, her heart misgave her, and she trembled for the happiness of her little nieces; but it was now too late to do aught but wait, and hope, and pray. Miss Ennerby had been recommended by a neighbor, and Mr. Larrantree had met her once or twice at this neighbor’s house, but that was all. He had not observed her sufficiently to form any clear impression of her character, and his mind was now in a state of such depression that he accepted at once the aid first offered, and had employed Miss Ennerby in the confidence based upon his neighbor’s judgment.

Unfortunately, as she feared, for the matrimonial designs with which Miss Ennerby entered on her duties, Mr. Larrantree was called away on business the day after her arrival, and she had only time to ascertain that he agreed with her fully on one point: children [ should be taught to be self-reliant and induced to develop their moral muscle. She had, therefore, no doubt of his approbation when she commenced the hardening process by commanding Mammy, after the children were undressed, to put put the light and leave them to go sleep by themselves. To a great many good-liearted and intelligent people—people who honestly desire to be kind and reasonable—it were vain to portray the agony of some children on being left alone in the dark, the unreasoning, uncontrollable terror of that something which, by its very lack of form, its vagueness and indefiniteness, becomes so awful, so dreadful, so indefinitely horrible, that the anguish of substantial torture cannot be compared with it. The child’s whole soul is pervaded by a terror which cannot be shaken off by any effort of the child’s own will. Its entire being is the subject of a terror which it has no power to subdue, and its whole nervous system lies at the mercy of this shapeless, shadowy foe; it is reeling and staggering and fainting, and suffering a shock which will tell in after-life as surely as a shot in the eye or a cut on the brow. Oh, why is there no Mr. Bergh who can prevent cruelty to children ? A great many excellent persons without nerves fail to appreciate this state of feeling, and Miss Ennerby was not only without nerves, but by no means an excellent person. She was cold and hard and cruel, and full of vindictive feeling toward those above her, which she could gratify only by grinding those whom Providence pla«ed temporarily under her heel. Mammy, with unerring instinct, at once discovered that Miss Ennerby was “ poor white” —that is, that she had not had a crowd of negroes at her command, and ridden about in her own carriage—and, with the aristocratic tendency of her class, despised her accordingly. The old woman knew her place too well to make any intentional display of contempt, but she conducted herself with dignified formality, more offensively suggestive than the most elaborate impertinence, and Miss Ennerby felt it with a keenness she could not disguise from herself.

The gratification of the latter could be measured only by Mammy’s dismay at the order to leave the children alone; and indeed so great was the panic created in the nursery that even Miss Ennerby would have made a temporary compromise had it not involved a triumph for Mammy. As it was, she persisted in tltefenforcement of her order, and it was with grim satisfaction that after the first two nights she observed, the light having been extinguished and Mammy gone down-stairs, that the children seemed to resign themselves to their fate and quietly go to sleep. She did not know that Mammy stole immediately back and was at her post, with her arm around her bantlings, nor how, as Miss Ennerby’s step was heard, Mammy would throw herself on the floor behind the bed, and the little ones, taking their first lesson in deception, would shut their eyes and feign sleep till she had retreated, satisfied with them and her “system.” - But one night they failed to hear her coming, and she stood a moment listening. Mammy was saying, “An’ Jack, he were in lub wid de King’s dorter, an’ were always a-cassin’ sheep’s eyes at her; but de King, he didn’t want Jack to hab his dorter, so he guv a gret ball an’ axed eberybody blit Jack. So de ole bar (he were a gret friend uv Jack)—de ole bar, he say, ‘ I’m gwine ter roll in de ashes, Jdck, and den I’ll go inde ball-room an’ shake myse’fan’ make such a dus’ dat de King can’t hardly see; an’ while his eyes is fhll o’ dus’ you kin run away wid his dorter.’ So ole Mr. Bar, he went an’ laid down in de chimbly, an’ got hisse’f full o’ ashes, an’ while dfey was a-dancin’ he went and shuk hisse’f, an’ ” “ Aunt Maria!” Miss Ennerby opened the door.

No answer. Miss Ennerby advanced: “ Grace!” “ Ma’am ?’’answered the child faintly. “ Who was that talking?” No answer. They were truthful children. “Aunt Maria again called Miss Ennerby. “Marm?" said Mammy with an unsteady voice. i “ Go down this moment." Four little hands clutched Mammy silently, but convulsively, and she replied by condescending to beg humbly for permission to remain, but it was of no avail; she was sent down-stairs,&the door locked, and two little motherless babies were left to cling to each other in an agony of terror, foolish and wild and groundless, of course, but so real to them and so inex-. pressibly horrible that few' grown persons ever have an experience approaching it. The next day Mammy petted and caressed them even more than usual, and took them out under the trees, and then she said to them: “Nebber mind, chillun. Don’t you all be skeered to-night, ’cos Mammy gwine to be right at de do’. Mammy gwine to lay down right close outside de do’ es Miss Edner locks it; an’ es you all gits ’fraid, you jes’ say ’ Mammy!’ kind o’ easy, an’ Maminy she gwine ter say ‘Meow’, meow!’ like ’twere a cat meowin’.” “What you goin’ to say ‘meow’ for, Mammy?” asked Nelly. “ ’Cos I' kyarut amser no oder way,

honey,” said Mammy. *< Es I was to talk human, ’course Miss Edner would cotch me. Gord bless my babies! Now don ’A you all be skeered, ’cosdar ain’t nuffln’ to be skeered ’bout, nohow; de good Lord is a-watchin’ uv you night an’ day, an’ boldin’ uv you in de holler uv His han’; an’ Mammy’s gwine ter roll yo’ bed close ’side de do’an’ den alie gwine ter lay right down by it an’ stay dar tell spang day.” Sure enough, the door was again locked and Mammy sent down stairs. Presently there arose little soft, hesitating, doubting voices, “Mammy! Mammy!” '• “Meow!” came from the hall. “ Mammy!” “Meow! meow!” Then there were little giggles and whispers, and the next time Mammy’s name was called they could hardly do it for laughing: “Mammy! Mammy!” “Meow! meow!” “ Oh, Mammy!” “M e-ow!" Mammy was alarmed less Miss Ennerby should overhear them, and this time gave such an expressive “meow” that it produced an unrestrained burst of laughter, whereupon Mammy ventured to whisper “Hishe, chillun!” and the sounds presently subsided again into giggles and whispers. Then Mammy placed her mouth to the crack at the sill of the door and whispered again, “Go orn to sleep now, chillun, ’cos sumbody might hear you. Don’t make me meow no mo’. Mammy ain’t gwine away.” And Mammy did not go away. The giggling grew faint and the whispers few, and presently the drowsy lids fell quietly over the sweet blue eyes, and all was still; but Mammy never moved till morning’s cheerful beams dispersed the shadowy terrors of the night. Only when it had become “broad day,” and she knew her babies no longer trembled—only then, chilled and weary, she gathered up her stiff old limbs and softly crept away. Night after night: “Mammy! Mammy!” “ Meow!” answered a voice at the sill of the door. “ Oh, Mammy!”

“ Meow! meow!” Till one night Miss Ennerby, wearing a red-flannel sacque, her hair in disgusting little crimping-plaits, a candle flaring in one hand and a broom raised in the other—Miss Ennerby came suddenly from her room with intent to punish the cat, and beheld —Mammy! Little was said at the moment, but that little was to the purpose. Miss Ennerby was angry-at having been so successfully imposed upon, and Mammy was not only angry at having been discovered, but alarmqd as to the consequences for her cliildren, her ideas being very indefinite as to the extent of Miss Ennerby’s authority. Very little was said at the moment, but the next evening, as Mammy was about taking the children,off to bed, Miss Ennerby sent for Uncle Sawney, detaining Mammy till he came. When punishment was to be administered on the plantation it Ws the duty of the overseer to doit, and, as Uncle Sawnpy was acting in that capacity this year, he was sent for to perform his functions. No one at first understood the position of affairs—neither Mammy nor Uncle Sawney, who stood to receive Miss Ennerby’s orders; neither the chiltireir,who were waiting to be taken to bed, nor the housemaids, who, feeling that something unusual was-about to take place, were hovering curiously in the rear; and when they did, when it became apparent that Uncle Sawney had been sent for to punish Mammy, the state of feeling is qtiite indescribable. Uncle Sawney himself was aghast. “Good Lord, Miss Edner,” he exclaimed, “I darzn’t touch that nigger. Mas’ Jack ud peel me all ober. Lord lia’ mussy! Mas’ Jack ud have me on de block fus’ trader cum along.” “ I will be responsible to your master,” said Miss Ennerby. Uncle Sawney scratched his head and dropped his jaw, and “walled” his eyes at Mammy very much as if he would like to punish her for being the sourco of his perplexity; but his whip remained trailing on the floor, and his heart failed him as he essayed to lift it, for Mammy was a dignitary whose importance was not to be trifled with; besides which, Nelly and Grace were clinging frantically to her, despite Miss Ennerby’s commands, and the feelings of liis master’s children were not to be disregarded. Still, he hesitated to disobey bliss Ennerby, for, like Mammy, he had very vague ideas as to the extent of her authority, and did not know how far he might safely venture to defy her. “Will you do as you are ordered ?” demanded Miss Ennerby, imperiously. Uncle Sawney again scratched his head and muttered: “Lord ha’ mussy!” but finally said sullenly to Mammy: “Ornfassen yo’ coat!”

Mammy began with trembling fingers to unpin her dress, while the children hung around her with cries of distress and Grace endeavored to hold it together. “Oh, Mammy, don’t undo it! Stop opening your dress! Don’t let him whip you!” cried Nelly. “ Oh, Mammy! please, Mammy!” “Nebber you mind, honey. It don’t make no difrunce;” and the withered old lips were trembling like the poor black fingers. “ Mammy ain’t got long to stay here, nohow, an’ it don’t make no difPunce ’boat de path gittin’ narrer. ’Tain’t you all’s fault, chillun; an’ es yo’ ma was livin’ ’twouldn’t be hern’, bless de Lord!”

“ When my mamma comes back,” said Grace, sobbing and looking defiantly at Miss Ennerby, “I’m goin’ to tell her what you been doin’ to Mammy.” She ran to the door of the solitary chamber and, beating against it with her helpless little fists, cried over and over again: “ Mamma! mamma! please, iflhmma, open your door! Come out here just a minute, /namma, an’ make ’em stop troublin’ Mammy. You can''go to sleep again. Won’t you come, mamma?” An imperative gesture tfrom Miss Ennerby induced Uncle Sawney to repeat his order: “Qrnfassen yo’ coat.” “ Oh, make haste, mamma!” cried the children in agony. Mammy pulled off her sleeve, baring one arm and shoulder, while she turned toward the weeping child and said, in a voice thick with tears: “Come away, honey; your ma ain’t dar. Her do’ wouldn’t a a-stayed shot dis long es she had ha’ been. Come away, baby. Don’t call her no mo’. It jes’ makes Mammy feel wus.” She slowly bared the other black shoulder and bony arm, and Miss Ennerby motioned to Uncle Sawney to advance, while the children, with frantic cries, rushed forward and threw themselves before her, Nelly spreading her little baby hands over Mammy’s bare back, and Grace laying her fair curls and flushed cheek on the withered black breast. “ Go away, Uncle Sawney,’) said Grace, sobbing so„that she could hardly speak; “ g<? awfty. You know—know papa—(didn’t ever—let—let you—whi—whip

Mammy. ,I’m goin’ to—tell —tell him—: tell papa, soon as ever he comes—comes home.” “ Never mind, Uncle Sawney!” said Nelly, “ mamma is going to open her door an’ come out; an’ I’m goin’ to ’plain ’bout you troublin’ Mammy.” This appealed to Uncle Sawney’s superstitious feeling, and he had again lowered his arm, when there was heard a firm, quick tread on the piazza, the front door closed with a bang, and Mr. Larrantree stood before them. He looked with some surprise at the picture presented, but after a hasty bow to Miss Ennerby lie caught Grace up in hjs arms and asked, smiling: “ Why, what’s the matter, piggy-wiggy? And what in the world are you all doing to Mammy?” “ O papa,” said Nelly, still protectively clinging to the old woman, and unable, even though her father had come, to check her sobs —“ O papa, Uncle Sawn— Sawney was—was goin’ to whi—whip Mammy.” “All right, Uncle Sawney; go ahead. No doubt Mammy deserves it,” said Mr. Larrantree, but his laughter met no response, and he felt a little puzzled, having thought it all a play got up to amuse the children, and was dismayed to find their grief unassumed. He looked around with indignant, yet perplexed, astonishment, for he could hardly realize that Miss Ennerby had transceuded her authority to this extent; yet it was evident that something very serious and painful had occurred. Miss Ennerby stood in embarrassed silence, becoming suddenly conscious that she had made a false move and placed her “ castle” in danger. Alas for the airy fabric! Uncle Sawney’s fingers were buried almost out of sight in the grizzly wool that crowned his head, and his jaw fell more stupidly than ever, while ho rolled his eyes, not at anyone in particular this time, only to be generally on the defensive. No sooner had relief arrived than Mammy’s heroism deserted her, and now from head to foot she was shaking with nervous tremor. “Miss Ennerby, will you be kind enough to explain this scene?” Miss Ennerby cleared her throat once or twice and hesitated so long that Mr. Larrantree turned with perhaps discourteous impatience to Mammy: “ Mammy, is anything really the matter, or is this just tomfoolery for the children?” “ ’ Tain’t de kind o’ tormfool’ry I been usen ter, bias’ Jack. Miss Edner were ’bout havin’ de ole woman whipped, bless de Lord!” answered Mamnfy. “ Whipped! You! ” Capitals fail to express it. lie turned to Miss Ennerby with flashing eyes. “ She persisted in disobeying me and defying my authority over my pupils, and there was nothing left but to have her punished,” said Miss Ennerby. “ She didn’t, papa,” said Nelly. “We was ’fraid of nights, an’ Mammy didn’t want to lock us up in the dark; an’ ole mean Miss Edna maked her go away, an’ then Mammy stoled back anyhow and meow’d, an’ Miss Edna caught her, an’ ole mean Uncle Sawney was ” “ Will you do me the favor to explain this matter, Miss Ennerby?” Mr. Larrantree was one of those men who turn pale when they become angry, and Miss Ennerby began to feel insecure as she saw liis features whiten. She hesitated, and Nelly continued: “Since mamma went to sleep, papa, an’ don’t let us come in her room, we gets ’fraid every night, an’ want Mammy ” “Well, baby, what has Mammy to do but to stay wilhjyou?” asked he, pressing his bearded face against the little tearstained cheek.

“But, papa, don’t you know, Mammy stoled back at the crack of the door an’ meowed, an’ Uncle Sawney was goin’ to whip her, an’ you was gone away, an’ we kep’ callin’ flaamma, .an’ callin’ her, an’ callin' her; an’ she wouldn’t come. Papa, is mamma ’sleep yet?” “ Get out, Sawney,” said Mr. Larrantree, “ and thank your stars if I don’t cut four ears off to-morrow. Miss Ennerby, may forget myself if we discuss this matter at present, so I will not detain you for the purpose. Open the door for Miss Ennerby.” This hint being unmistakable, Miss Ennerby curved the corners of her mouth and ungraciously withdrew, i He buried his face in the child’s curls, and when he raised his head, though he tried to make the tones cheerful, his voice was choked and hoarse: “Fasten Mammy’s dress, piggy-wiggy. And now, Mammy, if you know what is good for you, you will make Tip bring in that valise and you and Nellie and Grace will open it; and then if you don’t like what is in it, why, you can just send it back where it came from. That’s all papa has to say about it; so here’s the key.” Tip brought in the valise, ana Mammy and the children eagerly poured forth its contents, Mammy receiving her gorgeous turbans and “ store shoes” with the same innocent delight that the children derived from their bonbons and babies, the old woman and her nurselings throwing aside with equal facility all thought of their recent trouble. Mr. Larrantree’s subsequent interview with Miss Ennerby must have been decisive, if not agreeable, as her baggage was sent to the “ crossing" in time for the next day’s train, and she departed without bestowing a kiss on the children or bequeathing her blessing to Mammy.—Jennie Vs oodville, in Lippineott for November »