I dreamed of muddy boots dripping on the carpets of the Tennessee State House of Representatives as two young men talked. The large room was a busy place, filled with all sorts of wonderfully dressed men of the 'Age of Jackson.' The fashions ranged from eastern-tailored, fine-silk frock suits, stylish, square-toed dress shoes, dull-colored, short jackets over wildly patterned waistcoats, and highly polished, knee-high hunting boots to beautiful, butter-hue, fringed hunting coats with beaded designs. Various shapes of bottles with many colors of fluids were displayed on linen-covered serving tables, presided over by black attendants, at each end of the large, rectangular room. Fancy, cut crystal glasses and less dramatic pewter chalices were located haphazardly atop the tables.
Soiled, brass spittoons stood at the corners of the tables and at the bases of candelabras. On the upper portion of the tall room, fingers of shadows streaked from the large, blazing clusters of candelabras. The sounds of conversation fluctuated between frantic shouting and barely audible murmur. The smoke from cheap cigars hung in a heavy haze, the smell blending with burning candles, liquor, sweat, tobacco juice, and coal soot's sharpness.
A shabbily dressed black man and woman, he in patched britches and a tattered well-worn, bed-ticking work shirt, worked in the bright sunshine. A roughed up straw hat was pushed back on his sweating forehead. The woman wore a well-faded, green, thin, open-neck dress with sleeves buttoned tight around her big, busy hands. The bright turban on her head was discolored with perspiration.
They were stripping tobacco in the bright noonday sun. Working alongside them was a sunburned white man in overalls and a broad brimmed straw hat. He was telling a story about seeing Old Jones and Andy Johnson speaking in Fayetteville on the subject of "people's gov'ment." Along the tobacco patch edges were great and green woods: cedars, oak, and elm. There was a high, hot sun and hectic buzzing bugs. The heat's radiation quivered in the sunshine. The smells of a hot summer day were strong.
***
Other scenes and episodes also appeared in my dream sleep.
There were green, felt-covered tables with ledger books, stacks of gold coins, and dull brass, whale-oil lamps burning bright…illuminating the high ceilings of cold rooms.
I saw white sails and blue waves, an auction block on which stood stripped, naked, young, and terribly frightened black men and women-terror reflected in their eyes. Their deep, deep, dark-brown skins were unnaturally shiny. Their bodies appeared oiled. Before them, whispering to one another, were white men dressed in old-fashioned, white linen suits. They wore wide straw hats and were gesturing with their canes towards the activity on the stage.