There was much of romance, and somewhat of mystery, that gathered about the life of Judge Arrington. Born of humble parentage in the pine forests of North Carolina, with no advantages other than those common in the remoter parts of our country a century ago, from the beginning he apparently dwelt apart from the conditions surrounding him. At an early age he removed with his father"s family to the then wilds of the Southwest.
There, upon the very border line of civilization, his a.s.sociates for a time were the advance guard, the adventurers and soldiers of fortune that in a large measure const.i.tuted the civilization of the southwestern frontier during the early years of the last century.
With his early environment, his subsequent career seems a marvel.
It can only be explained upon the supposition that through with them, he was not of them.
"His soul was like a star, and dwelt apart."
His companions were his books. Denied the advantages of early scholastic training, he was, from the beginning, an omnivorous reader. He cared little for the allurements and excitement of society. At the age of seventeen, he joined the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was soon after licensed to preach. For four years he rode the circuit, enduring all the discomforts and dangers then and there incident to his calling. His field may be called the _Ultima Thule,_ bordering upon the Rio Grande and inhabited by Indians. Untutored audiences were stirred to the depths by his fervid appeals. Church buildings were yet in the future; the congregations a.s.sembled in G.o.d"s first temples, and listened with rapt attention to the fiery eloquence of the delicate, youthful messenger, whose soul seemed on fire.
A gentleman who had heard Arrington writes:
"He was then young, delicate, as brilliant as a comet, and almost as erratic. Without research or mental discipline, he could electrify an audience beyond all living men, and arouse in the minds of those who heard him the wildest enthusiasm."
For some cause, possibly never to be explained, he suddenly abandoned the ministry, began the study of the law, and when a little past the age of twenty-one, was admitted to the bar. After some years of successful practice in the rude frontier courts of Arkansas, he removed to Texas, where he was soon appointed a judge, and a.s.signed to the Rio Grande circuit. In addition to his judicial labors, he now wrote and published some graphic and interesting sketches of border life, vivid pictures of conditions then existing in the Southwest among a people the like of which we shall not see agin, a people upon whom the restraints and amenities of civilized life sat but lightly, who were in large degree a law unto themselves, and with whom revenge was virtue.
One of his publications, "Paul Denton," still has a place in many of our libraries. It is, in part, a narrative of the thrilling experiences of an early Methodist circuit-rider--presumably himself --upon the southwest border. In this will be found his marvellous apostrophe to water, which, as was said by Judge Dent, "was so familiar to the lecture-going public of the last generation owing to its frequent declamation from the rostrum by the temperance lecturer, Gough."
The hero of the book, Paul Denton, had been announced to preach at a famous Spring, where "plenty of good liquor" was promised to all who would attend. During the sermon, a desperado demanded: "Mr. Denton, where is the liquor you promised?"
"There!" answered the preacher in tones of thunder, and pointing his motionless finger at a spring gushing up in two strong columns from the bosom of the earth with a sound like a shout of joy.
"There," he repeated, "there is the liquor which G.o.d the Eternal brews for all his children. Not in the simmering still over the smoky fires choked with poisonous gases, surrounded with stench of sickening odors and corruptions, doth your Father in heaven prepare the precious essence of life--pure cold water; but in the green glade and gra.s.sy dell, where the red-deer wanders and the child loves to play, there G.o.d brews it; and down, low down, in the deepest valleys, where the fountains murmur, and the rills sigh, and high upon the mountain-tops where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-cloud broods and the thunder-storms crash; and far out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls music and the big waves roll the chorus, sweeping the march of G.o.d--there he brews it, the beverage of life, health-giving water.
"And everywhere it is a thing of life and beauty--gleaming in the dew-drop; singing in the summer rain; shining in the ice gem till the trees all seem turned to living jewels; spreading a golden veil over the sun or a white gauze around the midnight moon; sporting in the glacier; folding its bright snow-curtain softly about the wintry world; and weaving the many-colored bow whose warp is the rain-drops of earth, whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all checkered over with the mystic hand of refraction.
"Still it is beautiful, that blessed life-water! No poisonous bubbles are on its brink; its foam brings not murder and madness; no blood stains its liquid gla.s.s; pale widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears into its depths; no drunkard"s shrieking ghost from the grave curses it in the world of eternal despair.
Beautiful, pure, blessed, and glorious. Speak out, my friends, would you exchange it for the demon"s drink, alcohol?"
In Calvary Cemetery, Chicago, rests all that is mortal of Judge Arrington.
"Tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of genius, for he was your kinsman!
Weed clean his grave, ye men of goodness, for he was your brother!"
XXI HIGH DEBATE IN THE MOUNTAINS
COLONEL WOOLFORD, A HERO UNDER GENERAL ZACHARY TAYLOR--HIS MANNER OF FIGHTING--HIS DEFENCE OF A YOUTH CHARGED WITH MURDER--HE MAKES A SPEECH THAT INFURIATES GENERAL FRY.
One of the men not easily forgotten was the Hon. Frank Woolford, a member of Congress from the mountains of Kentucky nearly a quarter of a century ago. He was without reservation a typical mountaineer.
He practised law in the local courts, and was prominent in the politics of his State. His style of oratory bore little resemblance to that of the British House of Lords. He had been a soldier in two wars, and his dauntless courage and inexhaustible good humor made him the idol of his comrades. He had been of the heroic band of "Old Rough and Ready" that repelled the charge of twenty thousand lancers under Santa Ana at Buena Vista. He was as brave as Marshal Ney, and it was said of him that the battle-field was his home as the upper air was that of the eagle.
He promptly espoused the cause of the Union at the outbreak of the Civil War and was chosen Colonel of a mounted regiment gathered from his own and adjacent counties. He knew how to fight, but of the science of war as taught in the schools he was as ignorant as the grave. It was said that his entire tactics were embraced in two commands: "Huddle and fight," and "Scatter." When the first was heard his men "huddled and fit"; and when retreat was the only possible salvation, the command to "scatter" was obeyed with equal alacrity. Each man was now for himself, and "devil take the hindmost" for a time, but the sound of Woolford"s bugle never failed to secure prompt falling into line at the auspicious moment.
"Woolford"s cavalry" was the synonym for daring, even at the time when the recital of the deeds of brave men filled the world"s great ear.
Woolford and his troopers were in the thickest of the fight at Mill Spring, where Zollicoffer fell; later, they hung upon the flanks of Bragg on his retreat southward from the b.l.o.o.d.y field of Perryville.
More than once during those troublous times our hero was a "foeman worthy the steel" of John Morgan, Forrest, and the gallant Joe Wheeler of world renown.
At the close of the war, Colonel Woolford returned to his mountain home and was in due time elected a Representative in Congress.
Years later, with life well rounded out, he met the only foe to whom he ever surrendered, and lamented by all, pa.s.sed to the beyond.
Some faint idea of Colonel Woolford"s style of eloquence at the bar may possibly be gathered from the following. He was retained to defend a half-grown, illiterate youth under indictment for murder.
The crime was committed near "Jimtown," but by a change of venue the trial took place at Danville, in the neighboring county of Boyle. Danville, it must be remembered, was the Athens of Kentucky.
It was the seat of Centre College, of a Presbyterian theological Seminary, and of more than one of the public inst.i.tutions of the State. It was the home of men of prominence and wealth, and for three generations had been renowned for the high character, attainments, and culture of its people.
In his speech to the jury in behalf of his unfortunate client, the Colonel insisted that the poor boy at the bar of justice, born and reared in the mountains, without any of the advantages of churches and schools, was not to be held in the same degree responsible as if his lot had been cast in Danville. In his argument he said:
"Here you have your schools, your Centre College, your Theological Seminary, your churches. Every third man you meet on the streets is a minister of the Gospel, and the others are all teachers in the Sunday school. Here you have your great preachers, Young, Green, Humphreys, Yerkes, Robertson, Breckenridge--in fact, Presbyterianism to your hearts" content in the very air. But this poor boy has known nothing of these things. O gentlemen, what might not this poor boy have been, and what might not poor Jimtown have been, with all these advantages?"
Throwing up his arms, in tragic tones he exclaimed:
"Oh, Jimtown! Jimtown! Had the mighty things that have been done in Danville been done in thee, thou wouldst long since have repented in sackcloth and ashes!"
The incident which I shall now relate was told me by my kinsman, General S. S. Fry of Danville. He and Colonel Woolford were friends from boyhood, and comrades in the Mexican and Civil wars. Their party affiliations, however, were different, General Fry being a Republican, and Colonel Woolford a Democrat.
During the reconstruction period, soon after the close of the Civil war, a barbecue was given to the Colonel, then a candidate for Congress, in one of the mountain counties of his district. As a matter of course, the Colonel was to be the orator of the occasion.
In order, if possible, to counteract the evil effect of his speech, the Republican State Committee requested General Fry to attend the barbecue, and engage Colonel Woolford in public debate. In compliance with this request, General Fry, after a horseback ride of many hours, put in an appearance at the appointed time and place.
The attendance was general; the people of the entire county, of both s.e.xes and of all ages and conditions, were there. The barbecue was well under way when General Fry arrived. A table of rough boards and of sufficient length had been constructed, and was literally covered with savory shote and mutton just from the pit where barbecued. These viands were abundantly supplemented with fried chicken, salt-rising bread, beaten biscuit, "corn dodgers," and cuc.u.mber pickles. To this add several representatives of the highly respectable pie family, and possibly an occasional pound cake, and the typical barbecue is before you.
General Fry, upon his arrival, was warmly greeted by Colonel Woolford, whose hearty invitation _to partake_ was not limited to the viands mentioned. The feast being at length happily concluded, and the crowd a.s.sembled around the speaker"s stand, Colonel Woolford said to his old-time comrade; "Now, General Fry, you just go ahead and speak just as long as you want to. The boys have all heard me time and again, and I have nothing new to tell them, but they will be glad to hear you. When you get through, of course, if there is a little time left, I may say "howdy" to the boys, and talk a little while, but you just go ahead."
After formal introduction by the Colonel, General Fry did "go ahead," and discuss the financial question, the tariff, reconstruction, and dwelt earnestly and at length upon the magnanimity of the Republican party toward the men lately in rebellion against the Government. Since the surrender at Appomattox, no life had been taken, no one punished, no man ever put on his trial. It was without a parallel in history, and as a matter of simple grat.i.tude, the Republican party was ent.i.tled to the support of the entire Southern people for such magnanimity.
The speech at length concluded, Colonel Woolford arose and without even the formality of saying "howdy," or honoring finance or tariff with the briefest mention, proceeded:
"General Fry has dwelt long and loud upon the magnanimity of the Republican party. He has told you that when the war was over and the last rebel had laid down his arms, a hand-shaking took place all around, everybody was forgiven, and the peace of heaven came down like a dove upon the whole Southern people. Yes--a h.e.l.l of a magnanimity it was! How did they show the magnanimity that General Fry talks so much about? You all remember Stonewall Jackson, one of the grandest men G.o.d ever made. This same magnanimous Republican party took him prisoner, tried him by a drumhead court-martial, and shot him down like a mad dog after he had surrendered up his sword."
At which Colonel Fry interposed:
"Why, Colonel Woolford, you ought not to make such a statement as that. Stonewall Jackson was accidentally shot by one of his own men in battle, and his memory is honored by all the people North and South."
To this the Colonel replied:
"Don"t try to deceive these people. We don"t put on style and wear store clothes like you big folks down about Danville, but we live in our plain way, wear our home-spun and eat our hog and hominy; but if there is anything on earth that these people do love, it is the _truth._ What did this same magnanimous Republican party that General Fry had told you so much about do with General Robert E.
Lee? I knew General Lee, I served with him in Mexico, and although we fought on different sides in the last war, I always respected him as a brave soldier. Well, after he had surrendered at Appomattox, and his men had all laid down their arms, what did this same magnanimous party that General Fry talked so much about do with General Lee? Why, they tried him by a drumhead court-martial _and shot and quartered him right on the spot!"_
Again interrupting, General Fry indignantly exclaimed:
"It is an outrage, Colonel Woolford, to attempt to deceive these people by such statements. General Lee was never even imprisoned, and is still alive, the president of a college in Virginia, and highly esteemed by everybody."
The Colonel answered:
"Now, General Fry, you have been treated like a gentleman ever since you came to these mountains; we gave you the best we had to eat, gave you the last drop out of the bottle, and listened quietly to you just as long as you wanted to speak. We don"t wear Sunday clothes, General Fry, like you do down in Danville, but just live in our plain way in our log cabins, and eat our hoe-cake, and say our prayers, but if there is anything on G.o.d"s earth that we do love, it is the _truth._ It is wrong for you, General Fry, to try and fool these people. Yes, this same magnanimous party that General Fry has been telling you about, what did they do with poor old Jeff Davis after he was captured? Now, I never was fond of old Jeff myself, and I fought four years against him in the last war. But I was on the same side with him in Mexico, I saw him head the charge of the Mississippi rifles, and drive back the Mexican lancers after McKee and Clay and Hardin had been killed at Buena Vista, and I know he was no coward. Well, after he was in prison and as helpless as a child, what did they do with him? Why, they just took him out, and without even giving him a drumhead trial, tied him up and _burned him to ashes at a stake!"_
Fry sprang to his feet, exclaiming:
"Great G.o.d! Jeff Davis is still alive, at his home in Mississippi, and has never even been tried; it is d.a.m.nable to make such statements to these people, Colonel Woolford!"
The Colonel thereupon, with a deeply injured air, said: