The Iola Register

JOHN GAIR, OF EAST FELICIANA.

BY MARY T. REILLY.

You see, Boss, dat I was presen' When they killed John Gair. No one knowed; but I was hidin' In de pine woods dere.

I was out dat night, a huntin'; Bad night, sah, fo' coon. Fo', you see, 'twas light as mawnin', Dah was sich a moon.

I was jes' a-turnin' homewahd, An' my tawch was out, When I taught I heahd a-tramplin' An' a fah-off shout.

Dose was ticklish times, you know, sah, An' I taught I'd hide; Dah's no tellin' 'bout de white folks When dey's out to ride.

Well, de soun' kep' comin' neareh, Till dey got in sight; Nigh about a hundred men, sah, An' deih guns was bright.

Dey was all full abmed wid muskets, Carried pistols, too, An' I couldn't help but wondeh What dey gwine to do.

I could heah dem all a-talkin' Plain as you heah me, An' I foun' dat dey was waitin' Po' John Gair to see.

You see, he had been arrested Down to Baton Rouge, An' he begged an' prayed de Sheriff— Life is hahd to lose—

Not to take him up to town heah, Faw de folks had said Ef dey caught him in de parish Dey would shoot him dead.

So I knowed dat dey was waitin' Till he pass dat way. You could easy tell what den, sah, An' I tried to pray.

But I couldn't think o' nothin', As de time went by; But jes' what a pretty night 'twas Fo' a man to die.

Oh! I tell you it seemed hahd, sah, To be shot down dead, Wid de world so white an' shinin' From de moon oveh-head.

An' den he was young an' strong, sah; But de while folks taught "Lection times would go off betteh Ef John Gair was caught.

Faw you'd hardly fine a niggah, Hunt de parish through, But would follow whah he'd lead 'em, An' what he said, do.

Dah I sot an' watched de white men— I can't tell no names. Fah off? Well, I knows dat too, sah; But I tells no names.

Dah was boys not oveh twenty. I could see dem ride Roun' and roun' de tree below me, An' I sot an' tried

Faw to pray to God to save him, Po' John, from dat death; But I felt so sick an' dizzy, Couldn't get my breath.

Aftah while I heahd a-tramplin' An' I shuck wid feah. Well I knowed it was de Sherif An' de men wid Gair.

All got still as death aroun' me, 'Cept de hosses' feet Soundin' neah an' soundin' neareh, Like de death-watch beat.

An' dese little quiv'rin' owls, sah, (Sign o' death, dey say) Got to callin', in de pine trees, Jes' a step away.

Dey come neareh, tuhned de corneh. Den dey was in sight; Gair was ridin' in de middle, Bofe his hans boun' tight.

In a minute dey was roun' him— Nigh a hundred men. Dat his time had come fo' dyin' Gair was cehtain den.

But he gazed aroun' him, prayin' Dey would save his life. You see he had little childern An' a sickly wife;

An' it's hahd to die like dat, sah. But I heahd dem say: "Too late now, John. Jes' five minutes Lef' faw you to pray."

He throwed back his head and stahed up At de shinin' sky; An' I knowed dat he was thinkin' What a time to die.

Dah was jes' dat look about him, In his strainin' eyes, You have seen a wounded deeh have Jes' befo' it dies.

Den he drapped down on his knees dah; But dey couldn' stay (Seem like dey was in a hurry!) Fo' po' John to pray.

Faw, while he was kneelin' quiet, Some one shot a gun, An' I heahd a cry, an' den de Shots come, one by one.

Seems to me dey mus' have fihed Aftah he was gone, Fo' I heahd de shots long aftah I could heah him groan.

Dey made sah'tain dey had killed him, Den dey rid away; An' I come down an' went to him— It was light as day.

An' I didn't want to see him Mangled wid de shot; But I couldn't help but do it, Wantin' to or not.

Oh! if you had seed him lyin', All de grass as wet Wid his blood, as I did, Mahstah, You could not fo'get.

He was riddled wid de bullets, All shot troo an' troo, An' his po' dead face was awful Wet wid bloody dew.

An' somehow, as I stood by him Face an' heid all wet Wid de red dreps I got thinkin' Ob de bloody sweat

On de forehead ob de Mahstah, An' I taught dat he Had seen all po' John had suffered Betteh fah dan me.

An' de blood drops dat was scattered 'Neath de shinin' skies Like de blood of righteous Abel, To de Lord might rise.

* "John Gair, of East Feliciana" was an actual character, and the story of his death, here told in ballad form by one who knew him, is literally true. He was an intelligent mulatto, a member of the Louisiana Legislature, and was murdered for political reasons.