THE LIBRARY
The Ontario Institute
for Studies in Education
Toronto, Canada
LIBRARY
THE ONTARIO INSTITUTE
FOR STUDIES IN EDUCATION
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MY SCHOOL DAYS
Reconstruction Experiences in the South
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By
WADE H. HARRIS
Illustrated
New York
The Neale Publishing Company
1914
Copyright, 1914, by
Wade H. Harris
First published, December, 1914
ORDER OF CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface . . . . 9
CHAPTER
I In the Beginning 1 1
II The Breaking Clouds 17
III Poplar Tent 20
IV Vacation Reflections. 26
V General Lane 32
VI The Powder Bottle 36
VII The Dromios 40
VIII The Rogers School 44
IX In Reconstruction Days 51
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Better Type of High School— 1868,
Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
Getting Rid of Cotton Seed as a Nuisance. . 27
First Cotton Seed Mill in North Carolina —
1868 3°
Gen. James H. Lane 43
Mr. B. F. Rogers 50
MY SCHOOL DAYS
PREFACE
The names of the boys figuring in these pages
are real. There is small risk. Those that are
not dead are too old to fight. It is not a book
of fiction, but a narrative of fact; therefore, the
use of near-names, — or fictitious appellations
whereby the curious reader familiar with the
events of the period with which it deals might
puzzle out identities, — would be foreign to the
intent of the writer. His purpose here is the
preservation of some memories of conditions
under which the children of the days that immedi-
ately followed the Civil War obtained their edu-
tion, and, too, that by incidental narrative the
schoolboys and schoolgirls of the present day
may have a contrast by which they may come to
a better appreciation of the advantages by which
they are so abundantly surrounded. The author's
hope is that the boys and girls, — his contempo-
raries, — may derive some entertainment from
these pages. He will, because of the form of
book's dedication, invite a kindly reception for at
least one class — the youths who sturdily trod the
rugged path of post-bellum education under the
guidance of the most original and the most prac-
tical educator of those days, the late B. F. Rogers.
IN THE BEGINNING
The first molder into whose hands my parents
committed the work of giving shape to my youth-
ful mental structure was a woman, — red-haired
and red-tempered. She was an importation and
had no acquaintance with the families in the
town, and, — as we were not long in learning, —
no love for the children committed to her care.
The schoolhouse had been a residence; but
it had been unoccupied for a number of months,
and was in a bad state of repair. It had two
rooms, the smaller of which took up about one-
third of the first floor. As this room was suffi-
cient to accommodate the pupils, and as it re-
quired less wood for heating and less work for
keeping it in what passed for a clean condition,
it was selected as the schoolroom. The teacher
elected to place her chair in the center, with the
children drawn about her on chairs and stools.
The equipment did not boast even a bench.
Twenty-five or thirty little boys and girls an-
swered the roll-call. The oldest was a girl of
11
12 MY SCHOOL DAYS
twelve years. Individually and in the aggregate
the school was personified pinafore.
At first the children thought that the central
arrangement was an indication of the desire of
the teacher to be social and homelike, but they
were soon to be undeceived. The real purpose
was to have the scholars within easy reach of the
hair-shake for the little girls and the jaw-slap
for the boys. In those days mother was the
barber. There was but one style of hair-cut, and
that was to bob it behind on a line between the
ears. The only variation from this style was in
the location of the line. Some mothers drew it
from lobe to lobe; others half-way from the bot-
tom to the top of the ears, and still others
thought their offspring would look better with
no hair on the backs of their heads lower than
on a line drawn from the top of one ear to the
top of the other. This tonsorial effect left a
tuft of hair on the head, — a tuft that was an
opportunity too inviting to be overlooked by the
teacher. If it were a case of a girl's needing to
be disciplined, the teacher would content herself
with clawing into the hair for a firm grip, and
then shaking the little victim almost out of her
wits. If it were a boy, she would drag him over
to one side of the room and beat a tattoo on
the wall with his head. When, on rare occasions,
she was lucky enough to have two boys to punish
IN THE BEGINNING
13
at the same time, she would crack their heads
together, then impel each one to his chair with
a smack on the jaw. She never used a switch.
No scholar that had ever felt her fingers claw-
ing around his hair for a "purchase" would have
stood in any awe of the switch.
It might be supposed that the parents of these
tender martyrs would have soon found out the
condition of affairs in the school, — and they
probably would have made the discovery shortly
after Tommy Scott had sobbed out his story of
an aching scalp to his mother; but teacher learned
that very day what Tommy had told his mother.
Mrs. Scott was to blame for that. Next morning
the teacher called up Tommy Scott and got a grip
on his hair.
"What do you (shake) mean by telling
(shake) tales out of (shake) school?"
Then followed more shakes and heartbreaking
sobs from little Tom. There was not a trembling
little soul in the room that did not hear the dire
threats made of what would happen to anyone
telling tales out of school; and for weeks the
angelic temper of this red-headed terror was un-
known.
However, such tactics could be practiced in
concealment for no great while. It was not long
before pupils began dropping out, mutterings were
heard, and reports of the teacher's cruelty began
14 MY SCHOOL DAYS
going the rounds; then the children, emboldened
to talk, saw to it that the talk did not lack the
element of exaggeration. The teacher's life be-
came so uncomfortable that she was glad to take
a vacation, — and from this vacation she did not
return.
Naturally, no joyous anticipations of later
school life sprang up in the breasts of the little
people from the ideas gained through this first
disciplinary experience; but reassurance was on
the way. The school was reorganized.
There were two women teachers this time, —
sisters, — sweet-spirited, and of gentle ways.
Janitors were known only as characters in the
dictionary, but the new teachers brought over
their old colored cook (they lived opposite the
forbidding-looking temple of primary instruc-
tion), and put her to work scrubbing and scour-
ing, while they took turns at dusting the walls
and washing the windows. Then from their own
home they moved in chairs, a few benches, —
which a day laborer had constructed under their
direction, — a couple of desks, and several pieces
of carpeting. When school reassembled, the whole
atmosphere of the place was changed. The
pupils loved the school from the first day. Their
timidity vanished, they no longer trembled in
fear of the avenging hand, and they turned to
their books with a joyous earnestness, — an ear-
IN THE BEGINNING 15
nestness in marked contrast to their previous state
of mental perturbation.
Under the changed conditions there came a
change in the children's ideas of school life. A
love for teachers and for books took root in their
hearts, and from that time on, the rough places
encountered in the first few miles of the path along
which these future statesmen and suffragists had
been started were as forgotten troubles.
Another thing that added to the happiness of
the boys was that the mothers had become a
little bit more skillful in the barbering art, and
they were not so much ashamed to have any-
body walk behind them. The younger of the
two teachers got into the habit of bringing a pair
of shears to school, and with these she tactfully
caught many a vagabond lock that had been
skipped because the home barber might not have
had time to make a complete job. Then, too,
she carried needles and thread in her workbasket.
There was a day when the patch on the seat of
Billy Swink's trousers was seen hanging down in
an awkward way, so she called Billy up, to tell
him a story. The school was interested in the
telling of it, and when it was concluded and Billy
was returning to his seat, none would have known
what her hands had been doing but for Billy's
temporary halt to make a manual inspection of
the job, and his further blunder in turning to the
1 6 MY SCHOOL DAYS
teacher, bowing rather shamefacedly, and blurt-
ing out:
"Thank you, Miss Lillie; thank you, ma'am."
In the delightful surroundings of this primitive
seat of youthful learning attachments were made
that have happily threaded lives together to this
day; for from it there has been a branching out
of a forest of family trees. And one attach-
ment, of which the young people were scarcely
conscious, has flourished and become the stronger,
and as the light grows brighter in the face on the
shortening journey, they are privileged to reach
out and give the touch of remembrance to the
hands that guided their early steps. I meet these
sisters yet once in a while, but never without the
thrill of tender memories.
II
THE BREAKING CLOUDS
Chaos reigned in the South at the time I was
started on the path to knowledge. The echoes
of the Civil War had scarce died away, and
soldiers were still straggling home. The parents
at that time had little opportunity, — 'and less
heart, — to look after the educational interests of
their children ; yet in the face of the demoralized
conditions, it is to the credit of our forebears
that one of the first tasks to which they addressed
themselves was the opening of schools of one kind
or another. The South had been always poorly
provided with public schools. The time that had
just gone had been the day of large estates and
commodious homes, with retinues of servants.
The children of the landowners used to be sent
off to colleges and seminaries for their education.
For the children of the less fortunate class there
were private schools and the old field school. For
others there was no opportunity, except books in
the home. Public schools, as they are known at
the present time, did not exist. The best school-
17
1 8 MY SCHOOL DAYS
house in the towns boasted but a single room.
The old field schoolhouse was no more preten-
tious; the desk was unknown; the furniture con-
sisted of rows of rude benches; only the better
classes of buildings had "window lights," — that is
to say, glass windows; the blackboard was a
rarity; everything was in the rough and crude
stage of the pioneer days, typical less of the hard-
ship of that period than of the neglect of the
educational interests by local and State authorities.
Such being the condition when the people were
called to war, it may well be imagined how hope-
less the educational task appeared when town,
hamlet, and country, — groping and stumbling
through the shadows of wreck and ruin and de-
vastation, — came face to face with the problems
of Reconstruction. For four years the log school-
houses had been practically deserted, and had gone
to decay by neglect. The country schoolmasters,
— almost to a man, — had answered the long roll,
or had come back incapacitated by wounds or
disease; the faculties of the colleges and semi-
naries had been depleted, and the outlook for the
educational provision for the youth of the South
seemed dark.
But the courage and resources of the people
rose to the emergency. There were no funds
with which to build and equip schoolhouses, but
vacant houses were easily obtainable and self-made
teachers developed to take the work in hand.
THE BREAKING CLOUDS
19
Many of the women entered the service as volun-
teers, making no charges, — and accepting no re-
muneration. Some taught school for their board.
It was a work of patriotism; and thus did the
South address itself to the solution of the educa-
tional problem while the pall from the smoking
homes still overhung the land.
Out of these crude conditions, — shouldered
and gradually made the lighter under hardships,
the like of which have been imposed upon no
other people of the world, — has grown the present
perfected educational structure of the South, built
up of a system of rural, town, and State schools,
until it forms, as a whole, the finest in the country.
Out of the travail of the past has come the
Templed Age of the School. The stoic courage,
endurance, and determination of the pedagogues
that blazed the way to the present accomplish-
ment are worthy of all admiration. The experi-
of both teacher and scholar was the em-
ence
bodiment of the heroic in human endeavor. In
this day there should be no thought for it other
than one of honor and of reverence.
Ill
POPLAR TENT
The excuse for a system of county education
that existed before the war had gone entirely to
pieces at the close of hostilities. There was no
superintendent, no county board, no board of
trustees. In some communities the leading men
would exert themselves to secure a teacher, but
as a general thing, it was the pedagogue himself
that organized the school. He would make a
canvass of a community in which a house stood
vacant, and securing a sufficient number of pupils,
would send out word of the coming opening of
the school.
In ante-bellum days Poplar Tent used to be
considered one of the centers of affluence in our
county. It was a community of large estates and
big families, and its schoolhouse was of the better
type of country institutions; was, perhaps, the best
in the county, — in that it had a chimney, four win-
dows, and was weatherboarded. Its interior,
however, was barren of ceiling and devoid of
20
POPLAR TENT 21
plaster, while paint was an unthought-of extrava-
gance.
The schoolhouse was located in a grove sur-
rounding the church. One would have been told
at the time that its furnishings were of the best.
The benches in the Poplar Tent schoolhouse were
not made to be broken. A pine log, run through
the sawmill, made two benches. The process of
manufacture was simple. The flat side of the
log would be laid on the floor, and in each end
of the rounded outer (bark) side would be bored
two holes slanting toward each other. Into these
holes long pegs would be driven. The pegs were
then sawed off so as to set more or less squarely
on the floor. The bench was then turned right
side up, and was ready for use.
The teacher, — at least, one able to afford the
style, — had a chair and table. These he would
place near the fireplace. The benches would be
arranged in rows across the room in front of
him. Upon these benches, — with no foot-rests
and no support for the elbows, — the promising
youth of that day got a good start in the direction
of humpbacked humanity.
There was no idea of sanitation, nor of hy-
giene. The pupils took turns in sweeping out and
in carrying water. The windows were not washed.
In summer the boy that wanted to see out could
wet his fist and rub a clear spot in the dirt that
22 MY SCHOOL DAYS
coated the glass. In winter it was the fashion
to get away from the windows and from the wind
that would whistle in through the ample crevices.
A tin dipper, or a gourd, served as the common
drinking utensil. The teacher that at that time
might have suggested the sanitary drinking foun-
tain, or the individual cup, would have been
considered slightly flighty. The dullest man in
the community would not swap horses without a
close inspection of the teeth of the horse, yet no
thought was given the teeth of the children.
There was no quarantine against scarlet fever,
diphtheria, or any other contagious disease, and
a case of mumps was regarded as no excuse for
a boy to stay at home.
It was a sturdy set of boys and girls that made
up the average country school. They walked
from two to twelve miles every school-day, re-
gardless of the weather. Applying the parcel post
zone principal as the base of service of the
country schoolhouse, we would find almost as
many scholars from the fourth and fifth zone as
from the second and third. That is to say, as
many children lived four and five miles from the
schoolhouse as lived within the nearer zones.
At the Poplar Tent school, — barring three or
four boys, — none was inside the one-mile zone.
In spite of the difficulty of reaching the school,
the record of attendance was above the average
POPLAR TENT 23
of the present-day city school. Only rarely did
a boy play hookey, for the penalty was two lick-
ings, — one at home and one at school. No matter
how inclement the season, the scholar that missed
a day would need to have a good excuse. Missing
the roll-call counted up more demerits than a
breach of discipline. A certain number of ab-
sences-without-excuse would call for expulsion.
The curriculum was limited, and the little pil-
grims were not weighted down with books. Few
were further advanced than reading, writing,
arithmetic, and spelling. On the last two the
country school was particularly strong. Davies'
arithmetic and Webster's blue-back were the
standards, — and good spellers were turned out in
those days. I can recall two things I learned at
this country school. One was to chew tobacco.
The other was to write a good "hand." The
poverty of the people was pathetic to look back
upon. Few scholars were able to afford store
ink. The common substitute was the ink-ball, —
that unique product of the horsefly and the oak
tree, — which produced a purplish-colored fluid,
having the merit of enduring qualities. The quill
pen was an abomination with which the children
had small patience. Many of the boys could draw
a slit from a chair bottom and with his "barlow"
fashion a better pen. The copy book was a few
sheets of common writing paper sewed together,
24 MY SCHOOL DAYS
and the schoolmaster always wrote the text. This
was generally some popular ditty. From the back
of my head comes the first well-remembered copy
I was called upon to labor over with tongue and
pen:
"My pen is bad ; my ink is pale,
My love for you will never fale."
In those days a rhyme would not pass unless
it both looked and sounded right. The spelling
was a minor consideration. The deprivations of
the time were reflected in another way. On the
dismissal of school for the day there was no
loitering on the playground. The pupils hastened
home, where there were turns to do about the
house and on the farm. After school the boy was
a farmhand, the girl a housemaid. Crops were to
be cast, cultivated, and harvested; cows were to be
milked, and the chickens had to be looked after.
It was by firelight in many instances, by candle-
light in others, and in rare cases by the light of
a lamp, that the children's tired bodies would bend
to the task of study. But the sleep that followed
was deep and sound, and the eyes that greeted the
dawn knew no heaviness. With the snappy vigor
of youth, these scions of nobility were off with the
rising sun for the routine of another day, whose
exactions they well knew, but of which they were
not afraid. There were no "lifts" in an auto-
mobile, no rides on a wheel. The monotony of
POPLAR TENT
25
the tramp was only varied, on occasion, when
an empty wagon might be encountered going
their way. Did one ever know a driver that did
not take as much delight in giving a group of
children a ride as it gave them to get it?
IV
VACATION REFLECTIONS
Such were the limited possibilities of a common-
school education in the best type of the country
school. Vocational instruction was as an idea
unborn. Even in the larger schools and colleges
there was lacking any appearance of the me-
chanical equipment considered so necessary to the
practical youth of the present time. The textile
department was not even a dream. Drawing les-
sons were luxuries for the children of the rich
only, and no thought was given to wood-working.
There was indifference to the possibilities of the
development of a practical education. Perhaps
it was ignorance, perhaps it was the fact that the
parents were too seriously engrossed in the greater
problems that confronted them in the rehabilita-
tion of their fortunes, to give much attention to
the schooling of their children, — quite content
with the accepted understanding that they were
getting "book larnin'." It had never occurred to
26
VACATION REFLECTIONS 27
them that agriculture should be taught in the
school. The minds of the rising generation were
directed from the farm, rather than to it, and con-
sequently no thought was given to the immense
opportunities awaiting the coming of the magic
touch of Science in agriculture.
The slumber of the country over the golden
wealth concealed under the fuzzy coat of the
humble cotton seed was an instance. My vaca-
tions were spent at the home of Jacob Stirewalt,
at Mill Hill, where from one forebay were run
in succession the wheels of a flouring mill, a saw-
mill, a woolen mill, and a cotton gin. The latter
was my special delight, and I became, to all in-
tents, a "hand" about the gin.
By common consent the duty devolved upon me
of keeping the gin-room clear of the accumulation
of cotton seed. A door from the floor on which
the gin was located opened out over the stream.
I had been provided with a wooden shovel, and
with this I would dump the seed from the door
into the water, whose swirling eddies would carry
it down-stream and away. In a season I have thus
thrown to waste the seed from a thousand bales.
But that was not all. The seed that was not given
to the water was burned as the easiest way of
getting rid of it. The farmers that brought
cotton to the gin did not want to be bothered with
the seed. Some would carry two or three bushels
28 MY SCHOOL DAYS
home for planting, but many were even less provi-
dent.
The scenes of these wasteful days are as fresh
in my memory as if they had occurred but yester-
day. It was fascinating to lean from the door of
the gin-house and watch the miller start the
water wheel. With the raising of the gate in the
forebay there would come a tumultuous rush of
water, boiling into a white foam. It would leap
from one wheel-box to the other until the ac-
cumulated weight, — as it filled the boxes to the
point from which it took the perpendicular drop,
— would cause the wheel to begin slowly turning.
As the wheel gained momentum, the flow of
water would be cut down to the normal force, and
with a musical rumble, the machinery would re-
spond to the motion of the overshot wheel. And
as this water came rushing and roaring by the
gin-house, it would clear the channel of the ac-
cumulated nuisance in the shape of cotton seed.
Ah, the golden dollars that were floating away!
Had Science come to the schoolhouse a few years
sooner, how much more quickly would the South
have rallied from the impoverishment of the war!
During a vacation season my share alone in the un-
witting destruction of wealth in the cotton seed
must have amounted to $7,250 or $8,000. But
that was merely a small item in the whole de-
plorable truth. The cotton seed of the entire
VACATION REFLECTIONS 29
South, — now a source of revenue at the rate of
$12 and $15 a bale, — was wasted treasure.
But there was a time when the farmers came
close to the discovery of the gold mine over which
they were walking. It was the idea of cotton-seed
meal — an idea that took hold of the mind of a
man in Georgia. He figured it out that the seed
ground up would produce a meal that would be
fine for fattening cattle. After some experimenta-
tion he evolved a cotton-seed mill, and came to
North Carolina with it. He found an attentive
listener, — and eventually a believer, — in Chas. F.
Harris, of Concord. Mr. Harris purchased the
patent rights, and put up the first cotton-seed oil
mill in the State.
It was a primitive affair, and was located in the
barn at his home. The mill itself was on the
order of a large coffee grinder. At one side of
the barn an old-fashioned horse-power cogwheel
was built, which was connected with the mill by
shafting. The speed was obtained by the vast
diameter of the rim of the large cogged wheel
and the diminutive side of the shafting cog. Hand
labor was employed in unloading the seed from
the wagons and in feeding it to the hopper. The
process was slow and the result, — by reason of
the crudeness of the mill and its failure to thor-
oughly separate the meal from the hulls, — was un-
satisfactory. But the principle of the cotton-
30 MY SCHOOL DAYS
seed oil mill was there, and no doubt the present
perfected system had its inspiration from this
pioneer effort.
I well remember the first customer at the Con-
cord Cotton-seed Mill. It was W. G. Means, who
brought in a two-horse load of seed from his
father's farm, three miles west of town. I had
been tending the mill and was there when he
came for the meal. It amounted to a little over
a bushel. Means was mad.
"What," he roared, "is this all the meal I get
from my wagon-load of seed?"
He was at length convinced of the sad truth,
but his wrath was not appeased, and he never
came back. The product of this mill was a coarse,
rich, yellow meal, resembling grains of modern
gunpowder, — a glistening, sticky, oily mass. The
farmers that used it as cattle feed bore testimony
to its value as a fattening food and a butter pro-
ducer. Their only objection to it was based on
its expensiveness. Fed to cows in its concentrated
richness, it produced butter that very properly be-
came famed as golden.
The operation of this first crude cotton-seed
mill is evidence that at that period the light was
almost dawning. The application of a little
scientific learning would have given the country
the meal, the oil, and the hulls of present-day
commerce. Let some mathematician figure out
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VACATION REFLECTIONS 31
the extent to which the wealth of the South would
have been increased had the groping theories of
this Georgia pioneer regarding the possibilities
of the cotton seed been followed up to a practical
conclusion !
V
GENERAL LANE
Hard on the heels of the soldiers returning
from the war, came General James H. Lane, com-
mander of the famous Lane's Brigade, — glori-
ously identified with the history of a hundred
Virginia battlefields, — and whose crowning effort
was written at Gettysburg. General Lane's com-
mand was chiefly of North Carolinians, and with
his fortunes broken, but with spirit undaunted, in
the humble capacity of schoolmaster he turned to
North Carolina as a perspective field of liveli-
hood. He found the outlook discouraging
enough.
He secured a vacant building, — a large barn-
like structure, — collected a sufficiency of the rude
benches of the times, and opened a high school.
His army comrades, to a man, sent their sons to
the General, and he had the largest school in
that part of the State. It lasted but two short
terms, however. The poverty of the people
32
GENERAL LANE 33
caused General Lane to reap his pay principally
in promises, though his tuition fees had been
placed at the starvation point.
Though gentle at heart, the old warrior's soul
had been embittered by the reverses of the civil
strife, and he was unconsciously stern and rigor-
ous in his handling of the boys. There were sev-
eral adults in his advanced class, and to these he
gave the soldier treatment. Many of the younger
boys remember hiding their faces in terror as the
General was castigating some one of the bigger
boys. He used a bunch of hickories, and he would
stand on tiptoe and come down at a rate war-
ranted to make the dust fly. Only one student
ever made resistance, and the flogging was pre-
cipitated into a fist fight, which the student, —
who came out second best, — no doubt recollects
to this day; for he escaped with his life, and is
yet in business in Concord. There had been no
softening influences to tone down the rugged lines
in General Lane's face when the time had arrived
for him to take his departure from the field of his
first civic endeavor after the war.
The hopes of his heart blasted by the fateful
finality at Appomattox, and a pauper in purse, he
went forth to other and broader fields.
His strong point was mathematics, and arith-
metic and algebra were the standard studies in his
school. In Concord he had been given the nick-
34 MY SCHOOL DAYS
name of "Old Figgers"; yet his subsequent career
was characterized mainly as a teacher of military
tactics, he having been first identified with the
Charlotte Military Academy.
The writer came again under General Lane's
tutelage at the Virginia Agricultural and Me-
chanical College, at Blacksburg, — now the Vir-
ginia Polytechnic Institute, — and there found that
time and the warmer smiles of Fortune had soft-
ened his nature, and that off the parade-ground he
was as gentle as a woman. Yet, as a disciplinarian,
the spirit of the old soldier still animated his breast.
The cadets wore the bob-tail jackets of the original
Johnny Rebs. The parade-ground was used for
training and not for display, and forced mountain
marches served to give the boys a seasoning some-
what approaching that of veterans. The iron of
defeat was yet in the General's soul, however, and
his combativeness was manifested in faculty rows.
This pugnaciousness culminated in a rough-and-
tumble argument with Professor C. L. C. Minor,
on the chapel platform, — an incident that seems to
have marked the beginning of a line of subsequent
faculty troubles, and to have led to a train of re-
organizations that finally caused a change in the
name of the institution itself. From Blacksburg
General Lane went to Missouri, where he served
as professor of mathematics in the School of
Mines and Metallurgy, and later went to the
Alabama Agricultural and Mechanical College,
GEN. JAMES H. LANE
Facing page 34
GENERAL LANE 35
where he finished out his life work as military in-
structor.
It was a characteristic of General Lane that
he never referred to the Civil War, nor to its
outcome. Whatever emotions may have stirred
his bosom, his lips were sealed. He was dumb
alike to reminiscence and to incident, and his pe-
culiar aversion to any discussion of the conflict
was respected.
General Lane was not a military genius. He
had forced himself to the front as a leader by
the boldness of his plans, the daring of his actions,
the coolness of his judgment, and his absolute
freedom from any feeling of fear. He was one
of the bravest officers that the South produced,
and he wrote for himself a brilliant record on the
pages of the history of the Confederacy. Yet this
valiant leader of a mighty army turned his back
upon the scenes of military glory to face the open
door of a country schoolhouse! Of such heroic
stuff as this was made the rank and file of the
Southern soldier. The land was full of men of
such caliber, — men of whom this Confederate
general was typical.
VI
THE POWDER BOTTLE
To a class of boys and girls, — ranging in age
from eight to twelve years, — the teacher one
morning read the story of the Cabarrus Black
Boys, whose famous exploit in blowing up a train
of powder-wagons belonging to the British army
forms one of the most stirring incidents in Revo-
lutionary history.
As the story goes: The British forces were
marching through this section of the State, and
the wagon-train that carried the powder supply
went into camp at a point on the old Charlotte-
Salisbury road, six miles west of Concord. A
band of patriots concocted a plot to destroy the
wagons, — a plan that was carried out success-
fully. Stripped of detail : The people who had de-
cided upon this blow at the British cause met at
an appointed place, and after blacking their faces
and otherwise perfecting a disguise, sallied forth
to the woods in which the wagons were parked.
By stealthy operations they succeeded in laying a
36
THE POWDER BOTTLE 37
train of powder from the wagons to a safe dis-
tance, and to this they then applied a match. The
result was the blowing up of the entire train of
wagons.
The location of the Black Boys' exploit is
historically established, and is frequently visited,
— being easy of access. Periodical efforts have
been made to have the event commemorated by a
monument, though to this day nothing has re-
sulted. At recess that day the blowing up of the
British powder-wagons formed the topic of con-
versation of a group of boys, and their fertile
young brains were soon forming ideas. One of
the boys remembered having seen a cigar box of
powder in a closet at his home, and his announce-
ment of this fact set plans on foot to get pos-
session of some of it. That was easy. One of his
companions produced the very thing in the shape
of a six-ounce bottle, and with this carefully con-
cealed, the youthful emissary slipped home, got to
the powder, filled the bottle, and returned, with-
out having been discovered.
Then a discussion arose as to what should rep-
resent the British wagons. Various schemes were
suggested, but all were rejected. At length it
simmered down to a simple proposition of blow-
ing up the bottle itself. It then developed that
the whole crowd was a little band of cowards, for
none volunteered to strike the match. The tense-
38 MY SCHOOL DAYS
ness of the situation was at the moment relieved
by the discovery that there was not a match in
the crowd. That led Caleb Swink into a bit of
indiscreet boldness.
"Pshaw!" he boasted, "if I just had a match
I would make her go."
He stood committed to do the deed of bravery.
"Wait there!" shouted Harbin Partee, as he
disappeared on a run for the schoolhouse, re-
turning shortly with a coal of fire on a shovel.
Swink demurred, saying that he had called for a
match, but Partee argued that the coal would
answer the purpose, and clinched matters by dar-
ing Swink to "make her go."
Then began a remarkable performance. The
bottle was placed firmly on the ground, and the
boys gathered around in a circle. The coal of fire
was placed on the mouth of the bottle and Swink
endeavored to punch it down with the blade of
a knife. After he had made several unsuccess-
ful attempts, Partee forgot caution, and went to
Swink's aid. The two boys were squatted on their
knees, — Partee sitting rather straight and punch-
ing at the coal. Swing leaned back, drew in a
long breath, then bent forward with his lips close
to the coal and blew hard. Instantly a great bal-
loon-shaped cloud of white smoke ascended into
the air, and the Black Boys of history became the
little black boys of tragedy. The faces of both
THE POWDER BOTTLE 39
Swink and Partee were terribly blackened and
burned. They were carried to their respective
homes, and for weeks it was a question whether
Swink would come through with his life; and even
if he did so, whether or not he would ever see
again.
Partee's injuries were less serious; but it was a
month before he was able to return to school.
Swink's recovery was slow and doubtful, but in
the course of time it became known : first, that he
would get well, and later, that his eyesight was
safe. Then the miserable days I had gone
through were turned to days of rejoicing, for it
was I who had stolen the powder for the juve-
nile reproduction of the blowing up of the British
powder-wagons. To this day any one having
business in the office of the treasurer of Cabarrus
County, who will take the trouble to scrutinize
the features of the presiding official, will find- there
souvenir scars that mark the "Black Boys' " inci-
dent of his early school days. Partee's family
were refugees from the yellow-fever in Memphis.
He later returned to his native city, and became
a successful man of affairs, though of the for-
tunes of his later years I have heard nothing.
VII
THE DROMIOS
Bill White was always going around humming
Sunday-school songs. "Take it to the Lord in
Prayer," was his favorite.
White was built on lines that would have de-
lighted the eye of a Cubist. There was nothing
round in his make-up. Angularity and big joints
were all over him. He had a way of taking a
short step with his left leg and a long step with
his right, — his head slightly cocked, and his chin
up. He would hum his everlasting songs-without-
words until he came to the last line, and then he
would intone the completion of the sentence, be-
ginning in a deep, growing bass, and winding up in
a sharp falsetto.
None of the boys cared to have White about
on account of this peculiar characteristic; but he
did not bother any one in particular, except John
Burkhead. It was soon evident that Burkhead
regarded White as something of a nuisance. Hav-
ing discerned this fact, White began to manifest
a delight in testing Burkhead's nerves. Burk-
head was physically a twin for White, — not so
40
THE DROMIOS 41
stocky, but a little taller, with the same an-
gular frame and knotted joints. He always car-
ried his head lowered and eyes rolled up into
the sockets. He looked as if he were ever ready
for a fight ; and he not only looked it, — he was.
The two boys lived on the same street, directly
opposite each other, and were constant com-
panions. So far as any one ever knew, they
neither liked nor hated each other.
White kept up his persecution of Burkhead
for several days before the trouble broke out.
It was at "big recess" that the climax came. White
had managed to cut out Burkhead from the
crowd, like a steer from the herd, and began cir-
cling around him, humming the well-known song.
Burkhead had stopped still in his tracks and,
with head lowered, watched his circling enemy out
of the corners of his eyes. White had hummed
to the last verse, then, singing it out, wound up
by smashing Burkhead on the jaw.
The response was instant. Burkhead's big fist
landed against the side of White's head with a
force that might have floored a mule ; but it only
jolted White for a moment. Then the two set
in to see which was the best man. After each
had knocked the other down several times, they
got into a clinch, and for the next few minutes
first one and then the other was on top, — the
under-dog meantime getting a tremendous ham-
42 MY SCHOOL DAYS
mering. The fight was a draw when the two at
length rolled apart and began knocking off the
dirt and pulling their clothes into shape.
"Now," hissed Burkhead, shaking a battered
fist in White's face, "maybe you won't come
bringing it to me in prayer again soon."
"Maybe I'll do that very thing," taunted
White.
There was still an armed truce between the
two when Bill Willitts entered school. This fel-
low towered over all the boys, and had a fist two
sizes bigger than Burkhead's. He soon developed
into the school bully. The smaller boys shrank
from him with the instinct of self-preservation.
Meantime, Willetts had been trying to "pick a
fight" with either Burkhead or White, — or both.
While neither of these was inclined to put himself
in Willetts' way, he took no particular caution to
avoid the bully.
It happened that Burkhead was first to take
the test. A moment or so after he and Willetts
had "mixed," word got out of what was going on,
and the school was pretty soon gathered around.
When White came up Burkhead was getting the
worst of it. Willetts had him down and was
pounding him at a terrific rate. Only a momen-
tary hesitation convinced White that it was time
to act. He had been pacing to and fro at the
long-and-short-step gait, humming his favorite
THE DROMIOS 43
song, when suddenly he shouted out the line:
" 'Take it to the Lord in Prayer!' "
And at the words he landed on Willetts' back
with a pile-driver lick.
Willetts raised up to see what had hit him,
when Burkhead quickly slipped from under him
and joined White on top. The two had the bully
at their mercy and literally battered his face into
the ground. When they ceased the punishment
and permitted Willets to get to his feet, a thor-
oughly conquered bully slunk from the school
grounds, — and was seen no more.
After this encounter there might have been
expected some manifestation of feeling on the part
of either Burkhead or White; but there was none.
It was noted, however, that White never again
hummed the particular song that had irritated
Burkhead, but he acquired a new habit: He gave
the school the benefit of his full repertoire.
And the boys actually got to loving him for it.
VIII
THE ROGERS SCHOOL
The reconstruction of the common school sys-
tem had its beginning with the coming of Mr. B.
Frank Rogers, who later became one of the most
successful elements in the commercial life of our
section of North Carolina.
Mr. Rogers was the antithesis of General Lane,
of whom he was the immediate successor in the
educational field. The Rogers regime was one
of sunshine and laughter. There was never a
dull day in his school. Gifted with great orig-
inality and an infinite sense of humor, he injected
into the daily routine of school life a spirit of
optimism and cheerfulness, which tended to make
the Rogers schoolhouse an attraction that com-
bined education with entertainment. The latter
was reciprocal, — each scholar contributing to it
as the inspiration might strike the teacher. As
in the cast of some modern opera troupe, there
were stars for the leading parts and lesser lights
44
THE ROGERS SCHOOL 45
for the minor roles; but every scholar was an
actor.
Mr. Rogers never used the rod in the general
acceptance of the term. His desk was always
littered with a collection of crooked cedar stubs,
— a little thicker than a lead pencil and about
two feet long. It was through the unique use
of these stubs that he kept the school in a good
humor. Sometimes a boy would be deeply en-
grossed in some occupation, — an employment that
the teacher had observed was not connected with
the studies of the day, — and would be aroused
by a resounding whack on the head. Looking
up, he would find the teacher laughing into his
face at his pained surprise, and ready to raise
another knot by way of dismissal.
On occasion, — when some "stalled" student
would be arraigned at his deck for assistance, —
books were forgotten, and attention was riveted
upon the proceedings. The teacher would use
the stick for making punctuation marks. During
the performance the boys would take advantage
of their understood privilege of giving expres-
sion to their enjoyment of the entertainment; but
if any one were unseemingly boisterous, he would
be called to the desk, and himself put through a
performance. Mr. Rogers' originality was of
a practical bent. There was never a day at
school when he failed to discuss some event of
46 MY SCHOOL DAYS
current interest. The important news in the daily
paper would be read and commented on, and an
interest was created in the political questions and
the economic issues of the times. The most com-
monplace incidents of the school-room would be
turned to account.
There was one day when the teacher happened
to ask a scholar on a rear seat this random ques-
tion:
"How many days are there in this month?"
The question was addressed to Lafayette
Brown, and he responded:
"I dunno."
The school was at once all attention, for it in-
tuitively knew that something was coming.
"General Washington Lafayette Bonaparte
Brown," called out the teacher; "come up here!"
and Brown marched to the desk.
"Don't know how many days there are in this
month, eh?" And Mr. Rogers reached for a
stick.
"Thirty days hath April — " Brown had begun
in desperation; but the teacher stopped him.
"None of that Mother Goose nonsense," came
the warning. "Hold out your fist !"
Brown obeyed, and responding to the com-
mand, presented his fist, knuckles up; whereupon
Rogers explained to the school how to tell the
number of days in each month in a way in which
THE ROGERS SCHOOL 47
no mistake could be made. Whack! went the
stick on the first knuckle of Brown's fist.
"That's January, and it has 31 days," said the
teacher.
Then he proceeded to show that, counting down
the knuckles the top of each one represented a
month with 31 days. The spaces between repre-
sented a month of 30 days, this holding good
with the exception of February, with its 28 days
in common years and 29 days in leap years.
There was not a boy in the school who failed
to grasp the utility of this method of accounting
for the days in the month.
One day the class in hydrostatics had a prob-
lem in atmospheric pressure, — a problem that
seemed difficult of explanation even by demon-
stration on the blackboard. Finally Mr. Rogers
hit upon an expedient. He filled a glass with
water and placed it on his desk. Then, with a good
deal of patience and no small degree of skill,
he fashioned a siphon from two straws, giving
one long arm and one short one. The short arm
he placed in the water and instructed one of the
boys to "give a pull" at the end of the longer
straw with his lips. This was done, and the water
was seen to flow up the shorter straw and out
through the longer arm, until the glass was
emptied. This practical demonstration of how
water can be made to run up-hill by simple pres-
48 MY SCHOOL DAYS
sure of air, gave interest to the study of hydro-
statics by the school.
It was a lazy, dreamy summer day when Jim
Cook got his name of "Jiggers," — a name that
sticks to him to this day. Cook had been black-
berrying with me and the girls, and all the morn-
ing at school was in a restless state, — scratching
his arms with both hands and rubbing his shanks,
first with one foot and then the other as high
up as the foot could reach.
Mr. Rogers had been watching him with some
curiosity, and at length called out: "Cook, what
is the matter with you?"
"Nothin'," was the response, " 'ceptin' these
here jiggers is a-bitin' me."
The teacher led in the laughter, and the school
felt that fun was in the air when he summoned
Cook to the front.
"Come up here, Jiggers," was the command.
Cook was placed on the platform and there was
a little sport with the stick, during which, for the
school's amusement, there was drawn from the
boy a detailed story of the blackberrying expedi-
tion, after which he was made to bare his arm.
The teacher then produced a microscope and in-
vited the school to line up. There followed an
instructive talk on the "chigger," — its habits,
characteristics, and how to get rid of it. Cook
was told that in shaking blackberry bushes, he
THE ROGERS SCHOOL 49
dislodged quantities of these parasitic mites, and
that some of them had fallen on his arms and
hands and had been scattered over his body, bury-
ing themselves under the surface of his skin.
There they had become gorged with blood, which
caused the irritating sensation that had aroused
Cook to so vigorous a state of activity.
The pupils were given a study of the little red
bug under the microscope, and after all had wit-
nessed it in operation, they were told of the most
approved method of getting rid of the pest. One
of the boys was sent to a drug store for a phial of
ammonia, and Cook's arm was rubbed with a
rather strong solution. It had the desired effect.
Cook was then given the phial and sent home with
the advice to make a thorough job.
So it went from day to day in Rogers' school :
always some practical demonstration of incident,
or event of easy grasp by the pupils, by means
of which was imparted knowledge never to be
forgotten.
It was not to be wondered at that Rogers'
School leaped into early and lasting fame. From
a modest beginning, with but a small group of
neighborhood boys, it became renowned for miles
around, attracting a scholastic personnel that was
not excelled in the State.
The best testimonial of the splendid work that
B. Frank Rogers performed as an educator is
50 MY SCHOOL DAYS
found in the ratio of successes to failures that
he turned out. Eighty per cent of Rogers' boys
are successful men of affairs to-day, — business
and professional men, — who, but recently called
upon to mourn him dead, paid him tribute as
friend and guide and counsellor invaluable.
MR. B. F. ROGERS
Facing page SO
IX
IN RECONSTRUCTION DAYS
Since deciding to have these sketches put into
print, I have concluded that the object of the
work would be materially advanced by incor-
porating the following bit of Reconstruction
data, taken from a letter by my mother, — Mary
Annette Harris, — to her daughter, Mrs. James F.
Shinn, — a letter that was read at a meeting of
the Norwood Book Club. The experiences nar-
rated were common all over the South among the
dwellers in the county. The incidents of Re-
construction government will serve to give a
clearer idea of the difficulties under which the
Southern people took up the task of educating
their children, and the discouragements under
which they labored, to lay the foundation of the
present educational structure of the South.
"The Reconstruction period in the Southern
States began with the surrender of Gen. Robert
E. Lee, at Appomattox, and ended with the rein-
51
52 MY SCHOOL DAYS
statement of the South into the Union in 1870, —
though active measures for this event were not
before Congress until 1867. ^ n tne meantime the
people of North Carolina had been under mili-
tary rule, — first under General Schofield and then
under General Canby; with W. W, Holden ap-
pointed Provisional Governor by President An-
drew Johnson. General Scofield's first act was
to issue a proclamation of freedom to every slave
in the State. It is impossible fifty years after
to so write as to give the present generation of
young people a realizing sense of the disorder,
the painful surprises, and upheaval in the do-
mestic relations between master and servant in
every home.
"Your father came straight from the field at
Appomattox to our home at Sandy Ridge, near
Concord; and there we remained through the
Summer, with no money and scant provisions.
Enough of our field hands stayed to work the
corn and cotton, which had been planted before
the surrender and were then up and growing.
Martha, our cook, had disappeared, — taking all
her children but one, — Lize, — who was left to
nurse the baby. She, too, in a few days vanished
suddenly, taking the road for Concord, to com-
plain to the Freedman's Bureau that I had slapped
her, which, for once, was the truth. I had not
become accustomed to deliberate disobedience on
IN RECONSTRUCTION DAYC , 53
the part of servants. Your grandmother sent us
from town one of her old servants, — Aggie, — to
cook for us; but Aggie had never been allowed to
do a full day's work, being too old to be so bur-
dened. However, she did more and better than
I had expected, until (alas!) the wagon sent to
town in the morning came back in the evening
with a dried-up specimen of humanity in it, —
Aggie's mother, who had come from somewhere
up the North Carolina Railroad to live on her
daughter's 'Forty acres and a mule.' The land
and mule not being in hand, both mother and
daughter got away somehow without saying
goodbye.
"A regiment of Federals camped during the
Summer at Winecoff's grove and overran the
country, trading their good coffee and sugar for
buttermilk and onions. We got our first real
coffee from them. The Freedman's Bureau was
established in every town, to hear complaints of
the negroes in the Summer and to compel the
owners of the land to give them a share of the
crops in the Fall. The officer in charge of the
bureau in Concord was a young man that had
lost an arm in the war. He had been married
only a few months, and had brought his wife
with him; and being afraid of being poisoned at
a hotel or private boarding house, they rented
rooms, hired a negro cook, and went to house-
54 MY SCHOOL DAYS
keeping. The officer's wife suffered the terrors
of death every time he would go into the coun-
try, being sure some awful Southerner would mur-
der him.
"So passed the Summer, and by orders from
Washington, an election was held in October to
restore civil government in the State. Jonathon
Worth, of Randolph County, was elected Gov-
ernor, — defeating W. W. Holden, — and held
office for two years.
"The people were beginning to feel that they
could breathe easily, when, in 1868, another elec-
tion was ordered. The Convention and the elec-
tions of this year brought a culmination of our
troubles. Every negro of twenty-one years and
over was given the ballot; and 20,000 white men,
property-holders, responsible for the good gov-
ernment of the State, — men intelligent, versed in
literature and political economy, — men of upright-
ness, who had all been Confederate soldiers as
well, — were denied the right to vote, while the
negro field hand, the hostler, and the carriage
driver (to whom the alphabet was a puzzle and
who could not read a syllable of his ticket) were
ushered in at the polls to drop the ballot in the
place pointed out to them. Moore's 'History of
North Carolina' gives the reason why the Con-
vention of 1868 was ordered so soon after that
of 1865.
IN RECONSTRUCTION DAYS 55
"This first Convention of October 'passed or-
dinances repealing the ordinance of secession of
May 20th, 1 86 1, — the abolishment of slavery and
invalidating all contracts made in furtherance of
the war. The people refused to ratify these or-
dinances; and, while accepting the situation and
submitting in all quietude to the authorities im-
posed, they were yet resolved to take no part in
these constrained reformations.' The Legislature
of 1868 was composed principally of negroes, scal-
awags, and carpetbaggers. The State was at their
mercy. 'The reckless expenditure produced the
utmost excitement among the tax-payers and soon
resulted in such a strain on the State's credit that
her obligations became wellnigh worthless in the
stock markets.'
"This hybrid Legislature issued millions of
bonds, which it succeeded in selling, — and which
the State repudiated, — but which are yet bobbing
up here and there to remind the world that ras-
cality once had North Carolina by the throat. The
negroes, — excited by their new-found freedom,
and incited by their new-found friends, — organ-
ized the Union League, to see how much mischief
they could do (and how little work) ; thus becom-
ing dangerous to life and property. This accounts
for the sudden and terrifying appearance of the
Ku Klux Klan, whose ghostly figures soon dis-
banded the League. But before the League fell
S
S6 MY SCHOOL DAYS
to pieces, many depredations and outrages were
committed. These were summarily punished by
the Ku Klux Klan. Governor Holden issued re-
peated orders demanding the cessation of violence.
At length, when a negro legislator, — Stephens by
name, — was murdered in the courthouse at Yan-
ceyville, — murdered so mysteriously that the per-
petrator was never discovered, — the Governor,
under authority of the Shoffner bill, called out
troops, under command of George W. Kirke, of
Tennessee.
" 'In a few days, more than a hundred citizens
of Alamance, Caswell, and Orange counties were
arrested and imprisoned. Among this number
was Josiah Turner, editor of The Raleigh Sen-
tinel. He had daily, in righteous indignation,
'dipped his pen in vitriol,' and in biting sarcasm
and ridicule, exposed the infamous proceedings
among the law-makers of North Carolina. The
readers of his paper will never forget the fearless
editorial, which would have brought the blood, like
a whip-lash, to a sensitive man's face. These
soldiers under Kirke, were called 'Kirke's
Lambs,' in contemptuous irony of their brutality
in the treatment of the prisoners in their power.
"For bringing troops into the State in times of
peace, Governor Holden was impeached, found
guilty, and declared incapable of holding any
further honor or dignity in the State. Lieutenant-
Governor Todd R. Caldwell, of Burke County,
IN RECONSTRUCTION DAYS 57
took Holden's place as governor. Caldwell died
while in office, and was succeeded by his lieutenant-
governor, Curtis H. Brogden, of Wayne County.
"By 1870 the best people of the State had got
upon their feet again, and in the election of 1872
sent Gen. M. W. Ransom and Judge Merrimon
to the United States Senate. In 1877, our 'War
Governor, — Zebulon B. Vance, — was reelected
governor by an overwhelming majority. North
Carolina had come into her own again.
"All that the hatred of the North could do
to ruin the South had been done, but neither in-
tended humiliation nor actual spoliation could
crush the manhood of her sons; and, in the su-
periority of their Southern blood, they have arisen
and made the South what it is to-day. We can
well rejoice that we are the most coveted section
of the Union, blessed with abounding prosperity,
— our people God-fearing, law-abiding, peaceful,
and contented, happy in the manifold mercies and
advantages of what has been so well called 'God's
Country.' "
THE END
372.9034 H317MC.1
Harris # My school days :
reconstruction experience
3 0005 02022189 4
H317M
Harris
My school days', recon-
struction experiences in
the South
372.9034
H317M
Harris
My school days: reconstruction
experiences in the South
The R.W.B. Jackson
Library
0ISE
