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History and Records of the Elephant Club

<ANTIMG src="images/illus034.jpg" alt="heading" /> [Pg 132] There is a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough—— Shakspeare. AN evening or two after the facts related in the last chapter of this veritable and never-to—be-believed history, the members of the club <ANTIMG src="images/illus036.jpg" alt="preacher" />were seated in silent deliberation round their table, each man smoking a short pipe by a special order of the council; an unusual commotion was noticed at the end of the table where John Spout was supposed to be anchored. First the smoke, which had settled, in a thick, hazy layer, upon everything, and concealed the members from each other, as if they had mutually[Pg 133] pulled the wool over each other's eyes until all were for a time invisible, was observed to wave to and fro, as if agitated by some powerfully moving cause, concealed from the observers by the fragrant tobacco fog which had been raised by the joint exertions of the assembled multitude. A few minutes more disclosed the arm of John Spout, working like an insane windmill, backwards and forwards, to open a clear space, and make himself visible to the naked eye. After the lapse of some little time, and the expenditure of no small amount of muscular power in this interesting exercise, the ruddy beef-face of the Higholdboy beamed forth from the encircling mist, like a good-natured light-house, which had been on a spree the night before, and got up with a red nose, in consequence of the nocturnal dissipation. As soon as he had cleared a space about him large enough for him to speak without danger of suffocation, he announced that he had a proposition to lay before the honorable body, and proceeded to state that he had observed in a morning paper an advertisement of a camp-meeting, to be held at a distance from the city easily accessible, by a 2'40" team, in a couple of hours. He, moreover, went on to say, that the presiding officers of the gospel-hunt were to be of a sable complexion, and that the greater part of the[Pg 134] congregation was expected to be of the same color—in fact, it was to be what a Bowery boy would, in his peculiar, but not inexpressive dialect, call a "Nigger Methodist Camp Meeting." The proposition of the pious Mr. Spout was that the Elephants should pack their pockets, and proceed to the scene of action, for the purpose of picking up any superfluous piety that might be lying around loose, and of making themselves generally agreeable, and having a good time all round. The suggestion was listened to with approval, and it was unanimously Resolved, that the Elephants proceed to the campground in the morning. A special committee, consisting of the entire club, was appointed to see that every person was provided with all the necessaries of life, and the requisites for having a juicy time. In consideration of his being the mover of the scheme, it was moved that J. Spout, Esq., should be empowered to procure from the livery-stable the necessary conveyances, and should become personally responsible for the same. The proposition was agreed to, with a clause to the effect that when he paid the bill he should treat the company with the change.[Pg 135] Each man then appointed every other man a committee to raise the means, and keep himself sober until the appointed hour, after which they adjourned to prepare. At eight, by the City Hall clock (and, of course, half-past eight by every other clock in the city) next morning, the convention was incomplete. For an hour there were three men lacking; but Mr. John I. Cake finally made his appearance, with his breeches tucked into his boots, a horsewhip in his hand, and a suspicious-looking protuberance immediately over his left coat pocket. The attention of the company being called to this, Johnny explained by saying that it was his Testament and hymn-book, and that he had been all the morning engaged in turning down the leaves at the proper places, so that he might not be interrupted in his devotions. A half hour longer was appropriated in waiting for Wagstaff and Overdale, but at the end of that time, those two worthies failing to appear, the party resolved to start without them, Boggs remarking, that if those tardy individuals failed to reach Heaven because of their religious shortcomings, they could not say, in extenuation of their offence, that their fraternal Elephants had not waited a sufficient time to give them an opportunity for salvation.[Pg 136] The vehicles provided for the occasion were two single buggies, into which all seven of the party were to pack themselves, a feat which was finally accomplished, much to the detriment of Johnny Cake's shirt-collar, and greatly to the discomfiture of Quackenbush, who had to sit in behind, and let his legs hang over. Van Dam took the reins of the foremost carriage, and his first exploit was to run the wheel against the curb-stone, and spill the party into a coal-hole, from which they were rescued by the exertions of the bystanders. They once more started on their journey, under the supervision of Quackenbush, who was recalled from the stern of the craft, and made to assume the guidance of the crazy horse. Van Dam, on being deprived of his charge, immediately went to sleep, and waked no more, except when his companions roused him to pay the toll, which they did at every gate, until there was no more small change in his pockets than there is gunpowder in a tom-cat, after which they offered to pay every time with a twenty-dollar bill, and as no one would assume the responsibility of changing it, they passed free, and proceeded merrily enough until they reached the encampment of the devout darkeys. There being no taverns immediately adjoining, the[Pg 137] horses were made as comfortable as circumstances would admit of, under a beech-tree, in a clover-field, and the human part of the Elephantine delegation marched in an exceedingly irregular procession to the camp ground; the line of march being occasionally thrown into disorder by John Spout, who persisted in making protracted and strenuous efforts to squeeze something wet out of a Schiedam schnapps bottle, which had been dry as a powder-horn ever since Quackenbush had his last pull at it. A description of the sylvan scene which met their metropolitan gaze may not be out of place. It was in a clearing, in a piece of beech and maple woods. Stands were erected for some of the prominent speakers; slabs were laid from stump to stump, for the accommodation of such of the brothers and sisters as desired to sit still and listen to the preaching, and in places straw was laid on the ground, for the special benefit of such as had the "power," and wanted to get down on the ground and have a private tussle with the devil on their own account. Stands were erected under the trees, in the shadiest spots, by enterprising white folks, for the sale of gingerbread and root-beer, and it was rumored that some speculators, distrusting the appearance of the "sperits of just men made perfeck," had supplied[Pg 138] their place with other spirits, full as potent and equally reliable. The grass might have been agreeable to look upon at a distance, but a close inspection showed it to be full of pismires; the stumps would have been commodious seats, if they had not been most of them previously appropriated by black-snakes; the sleeping places would have been tents, if they had not been huts, and a poetical fancy might have pictured them as being constructed of canvas, white as the driven snow, but the practical mind instantly discovered that they were made of oak slabs and dirty horse-blankets. Some imaginative people would have set down the speaking of the ministers as eloquence if not inspiration, but a critical individual would have found fault with the bad grammar, and insinuated that the inspiration was all perspiration. At the north end of the ground, a big darkey in his shirt-sleeves was mounted on a platform, preaching to a crowd, who seemed, by their vermicular contortions, to be possessed of a legion of eely devils. On the west side, a fat wench was stirring up the fire under a big kettle of soup, seemingly composed principally of onions and ham; in a sly corner a red-shirt b'hoy was displaying the mysterious evolu[Pg 139]tions of the "little joker," and two small specimens of ebony juvenility were playing euchre on a basswood log; opposite to these, mounted on a cider barrel, a molasses-colored gentleman was going through a rather extraordinary performance; he had preached till his audience had all left him; then shouted "Hallelujah," and "Glory," till he was hoarse; had sung hymns in a spasmodic whisper till his voice gave entirely out, and now, in despair at being unable to speak, yet compelled to work off his superabundant religion, as if he were a locomotive with too big a head of steam on, he was dancing on one leg, and kicking the other about in a kind of perpetual pigeon-wing, and tossing his arms upwards in a wild and original manner, as if he was using his utmost endeavors to climb to heaven on an invisible tarred rope. To the shouts of the men, and the screams of the women who had got too much religion, was added the laughter of the outsiders, who hadn't got enough religion, and the swearing of the gamblers, who hadn't got any religion; and to complete the harmony, from a neighboring pasture was wafted the roars of a herd of cattle, applauding, in their own peculiar manner, an extemporaneous bull-fight. Mr. Dropper gave it as his opinion, that camp-[Pg 140]meeting religion, if analyzed, would be found to consist of equal parts of rum, rowdyism, and insanity. As, however, it was deemed improper to decide without a complete examination of the premises, it was resolved to proceed in company to explore the place. Quackenbush, who had resumed his nap on the grass, was roused, and after getting the grasshoppers out of his hair, the sand-flies out of his ears, and pulling off his boots to look for centipedes, he was declared ready for active duty, and they proceeded on their march. They found in a side hut of more pretentious appearance than the rest, that there was something unusual going on, and upon inquiring, discovered that one of the fragrant flock having transgressed, he was then having his trial before the "session." The party moved on to where the minister in his shirt-sleeves was edifying a small, but select, not to say noisy, congregation. The audience seemed to be affected much in the same manner as a strong shock of electricity will stir up a crowd of boys who have all got hold of the same wire. As there seemed to be a prospect of fun, the Elephants made a temporary halt to witness the same.[Pg 141] The sermon was now concluded, and the shirt-sleeve-man kneeled down on the platform and began to pray; he must have had no inconsiderable amount of similar exercise before, for the knees of his pantaloons were worn entirely through, and there was a large hole behind where he had sat upon his heels. No sooner had he fairly commenced praying than some of the more energetic in the crowd began to groan; when he made a thorny point, and said something about the "arrow of conviction," some fat wench would sing out "Glory;" when he put in a touch about hell fire and other torrid climates, they would cry out "Yes, Lord." And when he put in an extra lick about repentance, and death, and damnation, and other pleasant luxuries, the whole crowd fairly screamed with excitement. At length a powerful darkey, with a head like a cord of No. 1 curled hair, and with nothing on to hide his black anatomy but a pair of thin breeches and a blue shirt, began to give unequivocal manifestations of the workings of his faith; first he kicked a woman with his right leg, then he kicked a little boy with his left, then he punched one of the brethren in the stomach, then he stepped on the toes of a grey-haired class-leader, but, as both were bare[Pg 142]footed, no harm was done; then he yelled like seven Indians, and howled like seven Irishmen, and danced about like a whole regiment of crazy Dutchmen. When he opened his mouth, the minister dodged the yawning chasm, and the man fell down and sprawled about in the mud, striking about with his arms and legs, as if he were swimming on a bet, and was only two minutes from the stake-boat. At last he ceased to move, and stiffened out as if he had suddenly swallowed a rifle-barrel, which stuck in his throat like Macbeth's amen. The damaged brethren gathered round; the sisters, after giving their injured shins a consoling rub, also came to the rescue, and the man was picked up. He was foaming at the mouth; his teeth were set together so that a fence-stake was required to pry them apart; his shirt was unbuttoned (his pantaloons had unbuttoned themselves); a pailful of water out of the nearest frog-pond was dashed in his face, and he soon so far recovered himself as to ask for corn whisky. All immediately sang, with a strong chorus, a thanksgiving hymn, that his soul was saved; though what connection there was between corn whisky and salvation puzzled the Elephantines some, if not more. When this interesting episode in the day's perform[Pg 143]ance was concluded, the participants picked themselves up, and prepared to again besiege Satan in his stronghold, the north side of Sebastopol of the hearts of sinful niggers. Singing was the first feature, and the hymn was of a style unique, and, to the Elephants, highly refreshing. In point of comparison they had never known anything like it, and the execution was incomparable to anything known to exist by them. An athletic colored individual sang the words of the hymn, and, after each verse, the whole congregation would join in the swelling chorus. The effect of the hymn was electric. No less than twenty-seven colored females were seized with spasmodic religion, whilst over a dozen of the sterner sex found themselves unable to longer resist the thirsting of the spirit for religious nourishment, and they, too, fell over, and, amid the howling, kicking, singing, shouting and indescribable confusion that followed, Mr. Quackenbush expressed it as his opinion that chaos had come. But Mr. Boggs was seriously affected by the performance. He fell down in the grass, and laughed, and rolled, and positively refused to be comforted or get up, until the rest of the company ran sticks in his ears, and put last year's chestnut-burs down his[Pg 144] back. When he had sufficiently recovered, the members of the club renewed their investigations. They listened to several exhortations and hymns, and then peeped under the horse-blanket tents. In one they saw a youthful wench, trying to pray with her mouth full of cold sausage. Her efforts were useless, and becoming satisfied of this fact herself, she concluded, very sensibly, to no longer try to save her soul on an empty stomach, but see to her bodily wants first. Before she had got ready to pray again she had drank a pint of gin, which so heightened her religious enthusiasm that she made a dive among the pious elders, gave four shouts of glory, and fell into the arms of a venerable gentleman, who divided his time for the next hour in kissing the young sister, and crying amen and glory in alternation. At last, the Elephants concluded to return to the city. They piled themselves into the vehicles, and by means of sundry persuasive arguments, the horses were induced to reach the livery-stable, rather warm, inside of two hours. After the party had stowed away divers beefsteaks and onions, and other articles of food, they ascended into the club-room. Here they found Overdale and Wagstaff, both asleep. They were awakened, and, in a peremptory manner, the High[Pg 145]oldboy demanded to know why they had not been on hand in the morning at the place of rendezvous, to witness the sable performance in the rural districts. The answers of the two offending individuals differed. Wagstaff assigned as a reason that he was asleep, whereas Overdale stated that he wasn't awake. The Higholdboy announced himself satisfied with the answers. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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