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diff --git a/22960.txt b/22960.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..51ec950 --- /dev/null +++ b/22960.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9236 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Among the Pines, by James R. Gilmore + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Among the Pines + or, South in Secession Time + + +Author: James R. Gilmore + + + +Release Date: October 11, 2007 [eBook #22960] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE PINES*** + + +E-text prepared by David Garcia, Annie McGuire, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page +images generously made available by the Kentuckiana Digital Library +(http://kdl.kyvl.org/) + + + +Note: Images of the original pages are available through + Kentuckiana Digital Library. See + http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B96-8-34456937&view=toc + + + + + +AMONG THE PINES. + + * * * * * + + +A NEW WORK, Descriptive of Southern Social Life, +BY THE AUTHOR OF AMONG THE PINES, +Is now in course of publication in THE "CONTINENTAL MONTHLY," +PUBLISHED BY J. R. GILMORE, 532 Broadway, NEW YORK. + + + * * * * * + + +AMONG THE PINES: + +or, South in Secession Time. + +by + +EDMUND KIRKE. + + + + + + + +Tenth Thousand. +New York: J. R. Gilmore, 532 Broadway. +Charles T. Evans. +1862. + +Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1862, +by J. R. Gilmore, +In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for +the Southern District of New York. + +M'crea & Miller, Stereotypers. C. A. Alvord, Printer + + + + +TO +RICHARD B. KIMBALL, + +THE ACCOMPLISHED AUTHOR, THE POLISHED GENTLEMAN, +AND +MY OLD AND EVER-VALUED FRIEND, + +THESE SKETCHES ARE DEDICATED +BY THE +AUTHOR. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE. + +CHAPTER I.--ON THE ROAD.--Arrival at Georgetown.--The Village + Inn.--Nocturnal Adventures.--My African Driver.--His Strange + History.--Genuine Negro Songs.--Arrival at Bucksville. 10 + +CHAPTER II.--WAYSIDE HOSPITALITY.--A Strange Meeting.--A Well + Ordered Plantation.--A Thunder-storm.--A New Guest.--The Hidden + Springs or Secession Exposed.--On the Way Again.--Intelligence + of the Negro.--Renconter with a Secessionist. 30 + +CHAPTER III.--CROSSING THE RUNS.--The Black Declines His + Freedom.--His Reasons for so Doing.--A "native" + Abolitionist.--Swimming the Run.--Black Spirits and + White.--Shelter. 55 + +CHAPTER IV.--POOR WHITES.--The Mills House.--South Carolina + Clay-Eaters.--Political Discussion.--President Lincoln a + Negro.--"Three in a Bed and one in the Middle."--$250 reward.--A + Secret League. 69 + +CHAPTER V.--ON THE PLANTATION.--The Planter's Dwelling.--His + House-Keeper.--The Process of Turpentine Making.--Loss to Carolina + by Secession.--The Dying Boy.--The Story of Jim.--A Northern Man + with Southern Principles.--Sam Murdered.--Pursuit of the Overseer. 94 + +CHAPTER VI.--THE PLANTER'S FAMILY.--The old Nurse.--Her Story.--A + White Slave-Woman's Opinion of Slavery.--The Stables.--The + Negro-Quarters.--Sunday Exercises.--The Taking of Moye. 127 + +CHAPTER VII.--PLANTATION DISCIPLINE.--The "Ole Cabin."--The Mode of + Negro Punishment.--The "Thumb-Screw."--A Ministering Angel.--A Negro + Trial.--A Rebellion.--A Turpentine Dealer.--A Boston Dray on its + Travels. 150 + +CHAPTER VIII.--THE NEGRO HUNTER.--Young Democrats.--Political + Discussion.--Startling Statistics.--A Freed Negro. 169 + +CHAPTER IX.--THE COUNTRY CHURCH.--Its Description.--The + "Corn-Cracker."--The News.--Strange Disclosure. 180 + +CHAPTER X.--THE NEGRO FUNERAL.--The Burial Ground.--A Negro + Sermon.--The Appearance of Juley.--The Colonel's + Heartlessness.--The Octoroon's Explanation of it.--The Escape + of Moye. 196 + +CHAPTER XI.--THE PURSUIT.--The Start.--"Carolina Race-Horses."--A + Race.--We Lose the Trail.--A Tornado.--A Narrow Escape.-- 207 + +CHAPTER XII.--THE YANKEE SCHOOLMISTRESS.--Our New + Apparel.--"Kissing Goes by Favor."--Schools at the South. 222 + +CHAPTER XIII.--THE RAILWAY STATION.--The Village.--A Drunken + Yankee.--A Narrow Escape.--Andy Jones.--A Light-Wood Fire.--The + Colonel's Departure. 227 + +CHAPTER XIV.--THE BARBACUE.--The Camp-Ground.--The + Stump-Speaker.--A Stump Speech.--Almost a Fight.--The + Manner of Roasting the Ox. 239 + +CHAPTER XV.--THE RETURN.--Arrival at the Plantation.--Disappearance + of Juley and her child.--The Old Preacher's Story.--Scene Between + the Master and the Slave. 253 + +CHAPTER XVI.--"ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE."--Attempted Whipping of + Jim.--Appearance of the "Corn-Cracker."--"Drowned.--Drowned." 260 + +CHAPTER XVII.--THE SMALL PLANTER.--His House.--His + Wife.--His Negroes.--A Juvenile Darky.--Lazarus in "Ab'ram's + Buzzum."--White and Black Labor Compared.--The Mysteries + of "Rosum" manufacture. 277 + +CHAPTER XVIII.--THE BURIAL OF JULE.--"He Tempers the Wind to the + Shorn Lamb."--The Funeral. 295 + +CHAPTER XIX.--HOMEWARD BOUND.--Colonel A---- Again.--Parting with + Scipio.--Why this Book was Written. 298 + +CHAPTER XX.--CONCLUSION.--The Author's Explanations.--Last + News from Moye and Scipio.--Affecting Letter from + Andy Jones.--The End. 303 + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ON THE ROAD. + + +Some winters ago I passed several weeks at Tallahassee, Florida, and +while there made the acquaintance of Colonel J----, a South Carolina +planter. Accident, some little time later, threw us together again at +Charleston, when I was gratified to learn that he would be my _compagnon +du voyage_ as far north as New York. + +He was accompanied by his body-servant, "Jim," a fine specimen of the +genus darky, about thirty years of age, and born and reared in his +master's family. As far as possible we made the journey by day, stopping +at some convenient resting-place by night; on which occasions the +Colonel, Jim, and myself would occupy the same or adjoining apartments, +"we white folks" sleeping on four posts, while the more democratic negro +spread his blanket on the floor. Thrown together thus intimately, it +was but natural that we should learn much of each other. + +The "Colonel" was a highly cultivated and intelligent gentleman, and +during this journey a friendship sprung up between us--afterward kept +alive by a regular correspondence--which led him, with his wife and +daughter, and the man Jim, to my house on his next visit at the North, +one year later. I then promised--if I should ever again travel in South +Carolina--to visit him on his plantation in the extreme north-eastern +part of the state. + +In December last, about the time of the passage of the ordinance of +secession, I had occasion to visit Charleston, and, previous to setting +out, dispatched a letter to the Colonel with the information that I was +ready to be led of him "into the wilderness." On arriving at the +head-quarters of secession, I found a missive awaiting me, in which my +friend cordially renewed his previous tender of hospitality, gave me +particular directions how to proceed, and stated that his "man Jim" +would meet me with a carriage at Georgetown, and convey me thence, +seventy miles, to "the plantation." + +Having performed the business which led me to Charleston, I set out for +the rendezvous five days before the date fixed for the meeting, +intending to occupy the intervening time in an exploration of the +ancient town and its surroundings. + +The little steamer Nina (a cross between a full-grown nautilus and a +half-grown tub), which a few weeks later was enrolled as the first +man-of-war of the Confederate navy, then performed the carrying trade +between the two principal cities of South Carolina. On her, together +with sundry boxes and bales, and certain human merchandise, I embarked +at Charleston, and on a delicious morning, late in December, landed at +Georgetown. + +As the embryo war-steamer rounded up to the long, low, rickety dock, +lumbered breast-high with cotton, turpentine, and rosin, not a white +face was to be seen. A few half-clad, shiftless-looking negroes, +lounging idly about, were the only portion of the population in waiting +to witness our landing. + +"Are all the people dead?" I inquired of one of them, thinking it +strange that an event so important as the arrival of the Charleston +packet should excite no greater interest in so quiet a town. "Not dead, +massa," replied the black, with a knowing chuckle, "but dey'm gettin' +ready for a fun'ral." "What funeral?" I asked. "Why, dey'm gwine to +shoot all de boblition darkies at de Norf, and hab a brack burying; he! +he!" and the sable gentleman expanded the opening in his countenance to +an enormous extent, doubtless at the brilliancy of his wit. + +I asked him to take my portmanteau, and conduct me to the best hotel. He +readily assented, "Yas, yas, massa, I show you whar de _big-bugs_ stop;" +but at once turning to another darky standing near, he accosted him +with, "Here, Jim, you lazy nigga, tote de gemman's tings." + +"Why don't you take them yourself?" I asked; "you will then get all the +pay." "No, no, massa; dat nigga and me in partenship; he do de work, and +I keeps de change," was the grinning reply, and it admirably illustrates +a peculiarity I have observed to be universal with the negro. When left +to his own direction, he invariably "goes into partenship" with some one +poorer than himself, and no matter how trivial the task, shirks all the +labor he can. + +The silent darky and my portmanteau in the van, and the garrulous old +negro guarding my flank, I wended my way through the principal street to +the hotel. On the route I resumed the conversation: + +"So, uncle, you say the people here are getting ready for a black +burying?" + +"Yas, massa, gwine to bury all dem mis'able free niggas at de Norf." + +"Why? What will you do that for?" + +"Why for, massa! you ax why for!" he exclaimed in surprise. + +"I don't know," I rejoined; "I'm a stranger here." + +"Well, you see, massa, dem boblition niggas up dar hab gone and 'lected +a ole darky, dey call Uncle Abe; and Old Abe he'se gwine to come down +Souf, and cut de decent niggas' troats. He'll hab a good time--_he +will_! My young massa's captin ob de sogers, and he'll cotch de ole +coon, and string him up so high de crows won't scent him; yas, he +will;" and again the old darky's face opened till it looked like the +entrance to the Mammoth Cave. He, evidently, had read the Southern +papers. + +Depositing my luggage at the hotel, which I found on a side street--a +dilapidated, unpainted wooden building, with a female landlord--I +started out to explore the town, till the hour for dinner. Retracing my +steps in the direction of the steamboat landing, I found the streets +nearly deserted, although it was the hour when the business of the day +is usually transacted. Soon I discovered the cause. The militia of the +place were out on parade. Preceded by a colored band, playing national +airs--in doleful keeping with the occasion--and followed by a motley +collection of negroes of all sexes and ages, the company was entering +the principal thoroughfare. As it passed me, I could judge of the +prowess of the redoubtable captain, who, according to Pompey, will hang +the President "so high de crows won't scent him." He was a +harmless-looking young man, with long, spindle legs, admirably adapted +to running. Though not formidable in other respects, there _was_ a +certain martial air about an enormous sabre which hung at his side, and +occasionally got entangled in his nether integuments, and a fiery, +warlike look to the heavy tuft of reddish hair which sprouted in +bristling defiance from his upper lip. + +The company numbered about seventy, some with uniforms and some without, +and bearing all sorts of arms, from the old flint-lock musket to the +modern revolving rifle. They were, however, sturdy fellows, and looked +as if they might do service at "the imminent deadly breach." Their full +ranks taken from a population of less than five hundred whites, told +unmistakably the intense war feeling of the community. + +Georgetown is one of the oldest towns in South Carolina, and it has a +decidedly _finished_ appearance. Not a single building, I was informed, +had been erected there in five years. Turpentine is one of the chief +productions of the district; yet the cost of white lead and chrome +yellow has made paint a scarce commodity, and the houses, consequently, +all wear a dingy, decayed look. Though situated on a magnificent bay, a +little below the confluence of three noble rivers, which drain a country +of surpassing richness, and though the centre of the finest rice-growing +district in the world, the town is dead. Every thing about it wears an +air of dilapidation. The few white men you meet in its streets, or see +lounging lazily around its stores and warehouses, appear to lack all +purpose and energy. Long contact with the negro seems to have given them +his shiftless, aimless character. + +The ordinance of secession passed the legislature shortly prior to my +arrival, and, as might be expected, the political situation was the +all-engrossing topic of thought and conversation. In the estimation of +the whites a glorious future was about to open on the little state. +Whether she stood alone, or supported by the other slave states, she +would assume a high rank among the nations of the earth; her cotton and +rice would draw trade and wealth from every land, and when she spoke, +creation would tremble. Such overweening state pride in _such_ a +people--shiftless, indolent, and enervated as they are--strikes a +stranger as in the last degree ludicrous; but when they tell you, in the +presence of the black, whose strong brawny arm and sinewy frame show +that in him lies the real strength of the state, that this great empire +is to be built on the shoulders of the slave, your smile of incredulity +gives way to an expression of pity, and you are tempted to ask if those +sinewy machines may not THINK, and some day rise, and topple down the +mighty fabric which is to be reared on their backs! + +Among the "peculiar institutions" of the South are its inns. I do not +refer to the pinchbeck, imitation St. Nicholas establishments, which +flourish in the larger cities, but to those home-made affairs, noted for +hog and hominy, corn-cake and waffles, which crop out here and there in +the smaller towns, the natural growth of Southern life and institutions. +A model of this class is the one at Georgetown. Hog, hominy, and +corn-cake for breakfast; waffles, hog, and hominy for dinner; and hog, +hominy, and corn-cake for supper--and such corn-cake, baked in the ashes +of the hearth, a plentiful supply of the grayish condiment still +clinging to it!--is its never-varying bill of fare. I endured this fare +for a day, _how_, has ever since been a mystery to me, but when night +came my experiences were indescribable. Retiring early, to get the rest +needed to fit me for a long ride on the morrow, I soon realized that +"there is no rest for the wicked," none, at least, for sinners at the +South. Scarcely had my head touched the pillow when I was besieged by an +army of red-coated secessionists, who set upon me without mercy. I +withstood the assault manfully, till "bleeding at every pore," and then +slowly and sorrowfully beat a retreat. Ten thousand to one is greater +odds than the gallant Anderson encountered at Sumter. Yet I determined +not to fully abandon the field. Placing three chairs in a row, I mounted +upon them, and in that seemingly impregnable position hurled defiance at +the enemy, in the words of Scott (slightly altered to suit the +occasion): + +"Come one, come all, these chairs shall fly +From their firm base as soon as I." + +My exultation, however, was of short duration. The persistent foe, +scaling my intrenchments, soon returned to the assault with redoubled +vigor, and in utter despair I finally fled. Groping my way through the +hall, and out of the street-door, I departed. The Sable Brother--alias +the Son of Ham--alias the Image of GOD carved in Ebony--alias the +Oppressed Type--alias the Contraband--alias the Irrepressible +Nigger--alias the Chattel--alias the Darky--alias the Cullud Pusson--had +informed me that I should find the Big Bugs at that hotel. I had found +them. + +Staying longer in such a place was out of the question, and I determined +to make my way to the up-country without longer waiting for Jim. With +the first streak of day I sallied out to find the means of locomotion. + +The ancient town boasts no public conveyance, except a one-horse gig +that carries the mail in tri-weekly trips to Charleston. That vehicle, +originally used by some New England doctor, in the early part of the +past century, had but one seat, and besides, was not going the way I +intended to take, so I was forced to seek a conveyance at a +livery-stable. At the only livery establishment in the place, kept by a +"cullud pusson," who, though a slave, owns a stud of horses that might, +among a people more _movingly_ inclined, yield a respectable income, I +found what I wanted--a light Newark buggy, and a spanking gray. Provided +with these, and a darky driver, who was to accompany me to my +destination, and return alone, I started. A trip of seventy miles is +something of an undertaking in that region, and quite a crowd gathered +around to witness our departure, not a soul of whom, I will wager, will +ever hear the rumble of a stage-coach, or the whistle of a steam-car, in +those sandy, deserted streets. + +We soon left the village, and struck a broad avenue, lined on either +side by fine old trees, and extending in an air-line for several miles. +The road is skirted by broad rice-fields, and these are dotted here and +there by large antiquated houses, and little collections of negro huts. +It was Christmas week; no hands were busy in the fields, and every thing +wore the aspect of Sunday. We had ridden a few miles when suddenly the +road sunk into a deep, broad stream, called, as the driver told me, the +Black River. No appliance for crossing being at hand, or in sight, I was +about concluding that some modern Moses accommodated travellers by +passing them over its bed dry-shod, when a flat-boat shot out from the +jungle on the opposite bank, and pulled toward us. It was built of +two-inch plank, and manned by two infirm darkies, with frosted wool, who +seemed to need all their strength to sit upright. In that leaky craft, +kept afloat by incessant baling, we succeeded, at the end of an hour, in +crossing the river. And this, be it understood, is travelling in one of +the richest districts of South Carolina! + +We soon left the region of the rice-fields, and plunged into dense +forests of the long-leafed pine, where for miles not a house, or any +other evidence of human occupation, is to be seen. Nothing could well be +more dreary than a ride through such a region, and to while away the +tedium of the journey I opened a conversation with the driver, who up to +that time had maintained a respectful silence. + +He was a genuine native African, and a most original and interesting +specimen of his race. His thin, close-cut lips, straight nose and +European features contrasted strangely with a skin of ebon blackness, +and the quiet, simple dignity of his manner betokened superior +intelligence. His story was a strange one. When a boy, he was with his +mother, kidnapped by a hostile tribe, and sold to the traders at Cape +Lopez, on the western coast of Africa. There, in the slave-pen, the +mother died, and he, a child of seven years, was sent in the slave-ship +to Cuba. At Havana, when sixteen, he attracted the notice of a gentleman +residing in Charleston, who bought him and took him to "the States." He +lived as house-servant in the family of this gentleman till 1855, when +his master died, leaving him a legacy to a daughter. This lady, a kind, +indulgent mistress, had since allowed him to "hire his time," and he +then carried on an "independent business," as porter, and doer of all +work around the wharves and streets of Georgetown. He thus gained a +comfortable living, besides paying to his mistress one hundred and fifty +dollars yearly for the privilege of earning his own support. In every +way he was a remarkable negro, and my three days' acquaintance with him +banished from my mind all doubt as to the capacity of the black for +freedom, and all question as to the disposition of the slave to strike +off his chains when the favorable moment arrives. From him I learned +that the blacks, though pretending ignorance, are fully acquainted with +the questions at issue in the pending contest. He expressed the opinion, +that war would come in consequence of the stand South Carolina had +taken; and when I said to him: "But if it comes you will be no better +off. It will end in a compromise, and leave you where you are." He +answered: "No, massa, 't wont do dat. De Souf will fight hard, and de +Norf will get de blood up, and come down har, and do 'way wid de _cause_ +ob all de trubble--and dat am de nigga." + +"But," I said, "perhaps the South will drive the North back; as you say, +they will fight hard." + +"Dat dey will, massa, dey'm de fightin' sort, but dey can't whip de +Norf, 'cause you see dey'll fight wid only one hand. When dey fight de +Norf wid de right hand, dey'll hev to hold de nigga wid de leff." + +"But," I replied, "the blacks wont rise; most of you have kind masters +and fare well." + +"Dat's true, massa, but dat an't freedom, and de black lub freedom as +much as de white. De same blessed LORD made dem both, and HE made dem +all 'like, 'cep de skin. De blacks hab strong hands, and when de day +come you'll see dey hab heads, too!" + +Much other conversation, showing him possessed of a high degree of +intelligence, passed between us. In answer to my question if he had a +family, he said: "No, sar. My blood shall neber be slaves! Ole massa +flog me and threaten to kill me 'cause I wouldn't take to de wimmin; but +I tole him to kill, dat 't would be more his loss dan mine." + +I asked if the negroes generally felt as he did, and he told me that +many did; that nearly all would fight for their freedom if they had the +opportunity, though some preferred slavery because they were sure of +being cared for when old and infirm, not considering that if their +labor, while they were strong, made their masters rich, the same labor +would afford _them_ provision against old age. He told me that there are +in the _district_ of Georgetown twenty thousand blacks, and not more +than two thousand whites, and "Suppose," he added, "dat one-quarter ob +dese niggas rise--de rest keep still--whar den would de white folks be?" + +"Of course," I replied, "they would be taken at a disadvantage; but it +would not be long before aid came from Charleston, and you would be +overpowered." + +"No, massa, de chivarly, as you call dem, would be 'way in Virginny, and +'fore dey hard of it Massa Seward would hab troops 'nough in Georgetown +to chaw up de hull state in less dan no time." + +"But you have no leaders," I said, "no one to direct the movement. Your +race is not a match for the white in generalship, and without generals, +whatever your numbers, you would fare hardly." + +To this he replied, an elevated enthusiasm lighting up his face, "De +LORD, massa, made generals ob Gideon and David, and de brack man know as +much 'bout war as dey did; p'raps," he added, with a quiet humor, "de +brack aint equal to de white. I knows most ob de great men, like +Washington and John and James and Paul, and dem ole fellers war white, +but dar war Two Sand (Tousaint L'Overture), de Brack Douglass, and de +Nigga Demus (Nicodemus), dey war brack." + +The argument was unanswerable, and I said nothing. If the day which sees +the rising of the Southern blacks comes to this generation, that negro +will be among the leaders. He sang to me several of the songs current +among the negroes of the district, and though of little poetic value, +they interested me, as indicating the feelings of the slaves. The blacks +are a musical race, and the readiness with which many of them improvise +words and melody is wonderful; but I had met none who possessed the +readiness of my new acquaintance. Several of the tunes he repeated +several times, and each time with a new accompaniment of words. I will +try to render the sentiment of a few of these songs into as good negro +dialect as I am master of, but I cannot hope to repeat the precise +words, or to convey the indescribable humor and pathos which my darky +friend threw into them, and which made our long, solitary ride through +those dreary pine-barrens pass rapidly and pleasantly away. The first +referred to an old darky who was transplanted from the cotton-fields of +"ole Virginny" to the rice-swamps of Carolina, and who did not like the +change, but found consolation in the fact that rice is not grown on "the +other side of Jordan." + + "Come listen, all you darkies, come listen to my song, + It am about ole Massa, who use me bery wrong. + In de cole, frosty mornin', it an't so bery nice, + Wid de water to de middle to hoe among de rice; + When I neber hab forgotten + How I used to hoe de cotton, + How I used to hoe de cotton, + On de ole Virginny shore; + But I'll neber hoe de cotton, + Oh! neber hoe de cotton + Any more. + + "If I feel de drefful hunger, he tink it am a vice, + And he gib me for my dinner a little broken rice, + A little broken rice and a bery little fat-- + And he grumble like de debil if I eat too much of dat; + When I neber hab forgotten, etc. + + "He tore me from my DINAH; I tought my heart would burst-- + He made me lub anoder when my lub was wid de first, + He sole my picaninnies becase he got dar price, + And shut me in de marsh-field to hoe among de rice; + When I neber had forgotten, etc. + + "And all de day I hoe dar, in all de heat and rain, + And as I hoe away dar, my heart go back again, + Back to de little cabin dat stood among de corn, + And to de ole plantation where she and I war born! + Oh! I wish I had forgotten, etc. + + "Den DINAH am beside me, de chil'ren on my knee, + And dough I am a slave dar, it 'pears to me I'm free, + Till I wake up from my dreaming, and wife and chil'ren gone, + I hoe away and weep dar, and weep dar all alone! + Oh! I wish I had forgotten, etc. + + "But soon a day am comin, a day I long to see, + When dis darky in de cole ground, foreber will be free, + When wife and chil'ren wid me, I'll sing in Paradise, + How HE, de blessed JESUS, hab bought me wid a price. + How de LORD hab not forgotten + How well I hoed de cotton, + How well I hoed de cotton + On de ole Virginny shore; + Dar I'll neber hoe de cotton, + Oh! neber hoe de cotton + Any more." + +The politics of the following are not exactly those of the rulers at +Washington, but we all may come to this complexion at last: + + "Hark! darkies, hark! it am de drum + Dat calls ole Massa 'way from hum, + Wid powder-pouch and loaded gun, + To drive ole ABE from Washington; + Oh! Massa's gwine to Washington, + So clar de way to Washington-- + Oh! wont dis darky hab sum fun + When Massa's gwine to Washington! + + "Dis darky know what Massa do; + He take him long to brack him shoe, + To brack him shoe and tote him gun, + When he am 'way to Washington. + Oh! Massa's gwine to Washington, + So clar de way to Washington, + Oh! long afore de mornin' sun + Ole Massa's gwine to Washington! + + "Ole Massa say ole ABE will eat + De niggas all excep' de feet-- + De feet, may be, will cut and run, + When Massa gets to Washington, + When Massa gets to Washington; + So clar de way to Washington-- + Oh! wont dis darky cut and run + When Massa gets to Washington! + + "Dis nigga know ole ABE will save + His brudder man, de darky slave, + And dat he'll let him cut and run + When Massa gets to Washington, + When Massa gets to Washington; + So clar de way to Washington, + Ole ABE will let the darkies run + When Massa gets to Washington." + +The next is in a similar vein: + + "A storm am brewin' in de Souf, + A storm am brewin' now, + Oh! hearken den and shut your mouf, + And I will tell you how: + And I will tell you how, ole boy, + De storm of fire will pour, + And make de darkies dance for joy, + As dey neber danced afore: + So shut your mouf as close as deafh, + And all you niggas hole your breafh, + And I will tell you how. + + "De darkies at de Norf am ris, + And dey am comin' down-- + Am comin' down, I know dey is, + To do de white folks brown! + Dey'll turn ole Massa out to grass, + And set de niggas free, + And when dat day am come to pass + We'll all be dar to see! + So shut your mouf as close as deafh, + And all you niggas hole your breafh, + And do de white folks brown! + + + "Den all de week will be as gay + As am de Chris'mas time; + We'll dance all night and all de day, + And make de banjo chime-- + And make de banjo chime, I tink, + And pass de time away, + Wid 'nuf to eat and 'nuf to drink, + And not a bit to pay! + So shut your mouf as dose as deafh. + And all you niggas hole your breaf, + And make de banjo chime. + + "Oh! make de banjo chime, you nigs, + And sound de tamborin, + And shuffle now de merry jigs, + For Massa's 'gwine in'-- + For Massa's 'gwine in,' I know, + And won't he hab de shakes, + When Yankee darkies show him how + Dey cotch de rattle-snakes![A] + So shut your mouf as close as deafh, + And all you niggas hole your breaf, + For Massa's 'gwine in'-- + For Massa's 'gwine in,' I know, + And won't he hab de shakes + When Yankee darkies show him how + Dey cotch de rattle-snakes!" + +The reader must not conclude that my darky acquaintance is an average +specimen of his class. Far from it. Such instances of intelligence are +very rare, and are never found except in the cities. There, constant +intercourse with the white renders the black shrewd and intelligent, but +on the plantations, the case is different. And besides, my musical +friend, as I have said, is a native African. Fifteen years of +observation have convinced me that the imported negro, after being +brought in contact with the white, is far more intelligent than the +ordinary Southern-born black. Slavery cramps the intellect and dwarfs +the nature of a man, and where the dwarfing process has gone on, in +father and son, for two centuries, it must surely be the case--as surely +as that the qualities of the parent are transmitted to the child--that +the later generations are below the first. This deterioration in the +better nature of the slave is the saddest result of slavery. His moral +and intellectual degradation, which is essential to its very existence, +constitutes the true argument against it. It feeds the body but starves +the soul. It blinds the reason, and shuts the mind to truth. It degrades +and brutalizes the whole being, and does it purposely. In that lies its +strength, and in that, too, lurks the weakness which will one day topple +it down with a crash that will shake the Continent. Let us hope the +direful upheaving, which is now felt throughout the Union, is the +earthquake that will bury it forever. + +The sun was wheeling below the trees which skirted the western horizon, +when we halted in the main road, abreast of one of those by-paths, which +every traveller at the South recognizes as leading to a planter's +house. Turning our horse's head, we pursued this path for a short +distance, when emerging from the pine-forest, over whose sandy barrens +we had ridden all the day, a broad plantation lay spread out before us. +On one side was a row of perhaps forty small but neat cabins; and on the +other, at the distance of about a third of a mile, a huge building, +which, from the piles of timber near it, I saw was a lumber-mill. Before +us was a smooth causeway, extending on for a quarter of a mile, and +shaded by large live-oaks and pines, whose moss fell in graceful drapery +from the gnarled branches. This led to the mansion of the proprietor, a +large, antique structure, exhibiting the dingy appearance which all +houses near the lowlands of the South derive from the climate, but with +a generous, hospitable air about its wide doors and bulky windows, that +seemed to invite the traveller to the rest and shelter within. I had +stopped my horse, and was absorbed in contemplation of a scene as +beautiful as it was new to me, when an old negro approached, and +touching his hat, said: "Massa send his complimens to de gemman, and +happy to hab him pass de night at Bucksville." + +"Bucks_ville_!" I exclaimed, "and where is the village?" + +"Dis am it, massa; and it am eight mile and a hard road to de 'Boro" +(meaning Conwayboro, a one-horse village at which I had designed to +spend the night). "Will de gemman please ride up to de piazza?" +continued the old negro. + +"Yes, uncle, and thank you," and in a moment I had received the cordial +welcome of the host, an elderly gentleman, whose easy and polished +manners reminded me of the times of our grandfathers in glorious New +England. A few minutes put me on a footing of friendly familiarity with +him and his family, and I soon found myself in a circle of daughters and +grandchildren, and as much at home as if I had been a long-expected +guest. + +[Footnote A: The emblem of South Carolina.] + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +WAYSIDE HOSPITALITY. + + +Years ago--how many it would not interest the reader to know, and might +embarrass me to mention--accompanied by a young woman--a blue-eyed, +golden-haired daughter of New-England--I set out on a long journey; a +journey so long that it will not end till one or the other of us has +laid off forever the habiliments of travel. + +One of the first stations on our route was--Paris. While there, +strolling out one morning alone, accident directed my steps to the _Arc +d'Etoile_, that magnificent memorial of the greatness of a great man. +Ascending its gloomy staircase to the roof, I seated myself, to enjoy +the fine view it affords of the city and its environs. + +I was shortly joined by a lady and gentleman, whose appearance indicated +that they were Americans. Some casual remark led us into a conversation, +and soon, to our mutual surprise and gratification, we learned that the +lady was a dear and long-time friend of my travelling-companion. The +acquaintance thus begun, has since grown into a close and abiding +friendship. + +The reader, with this preamble, can readily imagine my pleasure on +learning, as we were seated after our evening meal, around that pleasant +fireside in far-off Carolina, that my Paris acquaintance was a favorite +niece, or, as he warmly expressed it, "almost a daughter" of my host. +This discovery dispelled any lingering feeling of "strangeness" that had +not vanished with the first cordial greeting of my new-found friends, +and made me perfectly "at home." + +The evening wore rapidly away in a free interchange of "news," opinions, +and "small-talk," and I soon gathered somewhat of the history of my +host. He was born at the North, and his career affords a striking +illustration of the marvellous enterprise of our Northern character. A +native of the State of Maine, he emigrated thence when a young man, and +settled down, amid the pine-forest in that sequestered part of +Cottondom. Erecting a small saw-mill, and a log shanty to shelter +himself and a few "hired" negroes, he attacked, with his own hands, the +mighty pines, whose brothers still tower in gloomy magnificence around +his dwelling. + +From such beginnings he had risen to be one of the wealthiest land and +slave owners of his district, with vessels trading to nearly every +quarter of the globe, to the Northern and Eastern ports, Cadiz, the West +Indies, South America, and if I remember aright, California. It seemed +to me a marvel that this man, alone, and unaided by the usual appliances +of commerce, had created a business, rivalling in extent the +transactions of many a princely merchant of New York and Boston. + +His "family" of slaves numbered about three hundred, and a more healthy, +and to all appearance, happy set of laboring people, I had never seen. +Well fed, comfortably and almost neatly clad, with tidy and well-ordered +homes, exempt from labor in childhood and advanced age, and cared for in +sickness by a kind and considerate mistress, who is the physician and +good Samaritan of the village, they seemed to share as much physical +enjoyment as ordinarily falls to the lot of the "hewer of wood and +drawer of water." Looking at them, I began to question if Slavery is, in +reality, the damnable thing that some untravelled philanthropists have +pictured it. If--and in that "_if_" my good Abolition friend, is the +only unanswerable argument against the institution--if they were taught, +if they knew their nature and their destiny, the slaves of such an owner +might unprofitably exchange situations with many a white man, who, with +nothing in the present or the future, is desperately struggling for a +miserable hand-to-mouth existence in our Northern cities. I say "of such +an owner," for in the Southern Arcadia such masters are "few and far +between"--rather fewer and farther between than "spots upon the sun." + +But they are _not_ taught. Public sentiment, as well as State law, +prevents the enlightened master, who would fit the slave by knowledge +for greater usefulness, from letting a ray of light in upon his darkened +mind. The black knows his task, his name, and his dinner-hour. He knows +there is a something within him--he does not understand precisely +what--that the white man calls his soul, which he is told will not rest +in the ground when his body is laid away in the grave, but will--if he +is a "good nigger," obeys his master, and does the task allotted +him--travel off to some unknown region, and sing hallelujahs to the +LORD, forever. He rather sensibly imagines that such everlasting singing +may in time produce hoarseness, so he prepares his vocal organs for the +long concert by a vigorous discipline while here, and at the same time +cultivates instrumental music, having a dim idea that the LORD has an +ear for melody, and will let him, when he is tired of singing, vary the +exercise "wid de banjo and de bones." This is all he knows; and his +owner, however well-disposed he may be, cannot teach him more. Noble, +Christian masters whom I have met--have told me that they did not _dare_ +instruct their slaves. Some of their negroes were born in their houses, +nursed in their families, and have grown up the playmates of their +children, and yet they are forced to see them live and die like the +brutes. One need not be accused of fanatical abolitionism if he deems +such a system a _little_ in conflict with the spirit of the nineteenth +century! + +The sun had scarcely turned his back upon the world, when a few drops of +rain, sounding on the piazza-roof over our heads, announced a coming +storm. Soon it burst upon us in magnificent fury--a real, old-fashioned +thunderstorm, such as I used to lie awake and listen to when a boy, +wondering all the while if the angels were keeping a Fourth of July in +heaven. In the midst of it, when the earth and the sky appeared to have +met in true Waterloo fashion, and the dark branches of the pines seemed +writhing and tossing in a sea of flame, a loud knock came at the +hall-door (bells are not the fashion in Dixie), and a servant soon +ushered into the room a middle-aged, unassuming gentleman, whom my host +received with a respect and cordiality which indicated that he was no +ordinary guest. There was in his appearance and manner that indefinable +something which denotes the man of mark; but my curiosity was soon +gratified by an introduction. It was "Colonel" A----. This title, I +afterward learned, was merely honorary: and I may as well remark here, +that nearly every one at the South who has risen to the ownership of a +negro, is either a captain, a major, or a colonel, or, as my ebony +driver expressed it: "Dey'm all captins and mates, wid none to row de +boat but de darkies." On hearing the name, I recognized it as that of +one of the oldest and most aristocratic South Carolina families, and the +new guest as a near relative to the gentleman who married the beautiful +and ill-fated Theodosia Burr. + +In answer to an inquiry of my host, the new-comer explained that he had +left Colonel J----'s (the plantation toward which I was journeying), +shortly before noon, and being overtaken by the storm after leaving +Conwayboro, had, at the solicitation of his "boys" (a familiar term for +slaves), who were afraid to proceed, called to ask shelter for the +night. + +Shortly after his entrance, the lady members of the family retired; and +then the "Colonel," the "Captain," and myself, drawing our chairs near +the fire, and each lighting a fragrant Havana, placed on the table by +our host, fell into a long conversation, of which the following was a +part: + +"It must have been urgent business, Colonel, that took you so far into +the woods at this season," remarked our host. + +"These are urgent times, Captain B----," replied the guest. "All who +have any thing at stake, should be _doing_." + +"These _are_ unhappy times, truly," said my friend; "has any thing new +occurred?" + +"Nothing of moment, sir; but we are satisfied Buchanan is playing us +false, and are preparing for the worst." + +"I should be sorry to know that a President of the United States had +resorted to underhand measures! Has he really given you pledges?" + +"He promised to preserve the _statu quo_ in Charleston harbor, and we +have direct information that he intends to send out reinforcements," +rejoined Colonel A----. + +"Can that be true? You know, Colonel, I never admired your friend, Mr. +Buchanan, but I cannot see how, if he does his duty, he can avoid +enforcing the laws in Charleston, as well as in the other cities of the +Union." + +"The 'Union,' sir, does not exist. Buchanan has now no more right to +quarter a soldier in South Carolina than I have to march an armed force +on to Boston Common. If he persists in keeping troops near Charleston, +we shall dislodge them." + +"But that would make war! and war, Colonel," replied our host, "would be +a terrible thing. Do you realize what it would bring upon us? And what +could our little State do in a conflict with nearly thirty millions?" + +"We should not fight with thirty millions. The other Cotton States are +with us, and the leaders in the Border States are pledged to Secession. +They will wheel into line when we give the word. But the North will not +fight. The Democratic party sympathizes with us, and some of its +influential leaders are pledged to our side. They will sow division +there, and paralyze the Free States; besides, the trading and +manufacturing classes will never consent to a war that will work their +ruin. With the Yankees, sir, the dollar is almighty." + +"That may be true," replied our host; "but I think if we go too far, +they will fight. What think you, Mr. K----?" he continued, appealing to +me, and adding: "This gentleman, Colonel, is very recently from the +North." + +Up to that moment, I had avoided taking part in the conversation. Enough +had been said to satisfy me that while my host was a staunch +Unionist,[B] his visitor was not only a rank Secessionist, but one of +the leaders of the movement, and even then preparing for desperate +measures. Discretion, therefore, counselled silence. To this direct +appeal, however, I was forced to reply, and answered: "I think, sir, the +North does not yet realize that the South is in earnest. When it wakes +up to that fact, its course will be decisive." + +"Will the Yankees _fight_, sir?" rather impatiently and imperiously +asked the Colonel, who evidently thought I intended to avoid a direct +answer to the question. + +Rather nettled by his manner, I quickly responded: "Undoubtedly they +will, sir. They have fought before, and it would not be wise to count +them cowards." + +A true gentleman, he at once saw that his manner had given offence, and +instantly moderating his tone, rather apologetically replied: "Not +cowards, sir, but too much absorbed in the 'occupations of peace,' to go +to war for an idea." + +"But what you call an 'idea,'" said our host, "_they_ may think a great +fact on which their existence depends. _I_ can see that we will lose +vastly by even a peaceful separation. Tell me, Colonel, what we will +gain?" + +"Gain!" warmly responded the guest. "Everything! Security, freedom, room +for the development of our institutions, and each progress in wealth as +the world has never seen." + +"All that is very fine," rejoined the "Captain," "but where there is +wealth, there must be work; and who will do the work in your new +Empire--I do not mean the agricultural labor; you will depend for that, +of coarse, on the blacks--but who will run your manufactories and do +your mechanical labor? The Southern gentleman would feel degraded by +such occupation; and if you put the black to any work requiring +intelligence, you must let him _think_, and when he THINKS, _he is +free_!" + +"All that is easily provided for," replied the Secessionist. "We shall +form intimate relations with England. She must have our cotton, and we +in return will take her manufactures." + +"That would be all very well at present, and so long as you should keep +on good terms with her; but suppose, some fine morning, Exeter Hall got +control of the English Government, and hinted to you, in John Bull +fashion, that cotton produced by free labor would be more acceptable, +what could three, or even eight millions, cut off from the sympathy and +support of the North, do in opposition to the power of the British +empire?" + +"Nothing, perhaps, if we _were_ three or even eight millions, but we +shall be neither one nor the other. Mexico and Cuba are ready, now, to +fall into our hands, and before two years have passed, with or without +the Border States, we shall count twenty millions. Long before England +is abolitionized, our population will outnumber hers, and our territory +extend from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and as far south as the +Isthmus. We are founding, sir, an empire that will be able to defy all +Europe--one grander than the world has seen since the age of Pericles!" + +"You say, with or without the Border States," remarked our host. "I +thought you counted on their support." + +"We do if the North makes war upon us, but if allowed to go in peace, we +can do better without them. They will be a wall between us and the +abolitionized North." + +"You mistake," I said, "in thinking the North is abolitionized. The +Abolitionists are but a handful there. The great mass of our people are +willing the South should have undisturbed control of its domestic +concerns." + +"Why, then, do you send such men as Seward, Sumner, Wilson, and Grow to +Congress? Why have you elected a President who approves of +nigger-stealing? and why do you tolerate such incendiaries as Greeley, +Garrison, and Phillips?" + +"Seward, and the others you name," I replied, "are not Abolitionists; +neither does Lincoln approve of nigger-stealing. He is an honest man, +and I doubt not, when inaugurated, will do exact justice by the South. +As to incendiaries, you find them in both sections. Phillips and +Garrison are only the opposite poles of Yancey and Wise." + +"Not so, sir; they are more. Phillips, Greeley, and Garrison create and +control your public opinion. They are mighty powers, while Yancey and +Wise have no influence whatever. Yancey is a mere bag-pipe; we play upon +him, and like the music, but smile when he attempts to lead us. Wise is +a harlequin; we let him dance because he is good at it, and it amuses +us. Lincoln may be honest, but if made President he will be controlled +by Seward, who hates the South. Seward will whine, and wheedle, and +attempt to cajole us back, but mark what I say, sir, I _know_ him; he is +physically, morally, and constitutionally a COWARD, and will never +strike a blow for the UNION. If hard pressed by public sentiment, he +may, to save appearances, bluster a little, and make a show of getting +ready for a fight; but he will find some excuse at the last moment, and +avoid coming to blows. For our purposes, we had rather have the North +under his control than under that of the old renegade, Buchanan!" + +"All this may he very true," I replied, "but perhaps you attach too much +weight to what Mr. Seward or Mr. Lincoln may or may not do. You seem to +forget that there are twenty intelligent millions at the North, who will +have something to say on this subject, and who may not consent to be +driven into disunion by the South, or wheedled into it by Mr. Seward." + +"I do not forget," replied the Secessionist, "that you have four +millions of brave, able-bodied men, while we have not, perhaps, more +than two millions; but bear in mind that you are divided, and therefore +weak; we united, and therefore strong!" + +"But," I inquired, "_have_ you two millions without counting your +blacks; and are _they_ not as likely to fight on the wrong as on the +right side?" + +"They will fight on the right side, sir. We can trust them. You have +travelled somewhat here. Have you not been struck with the contentment +and cheerful subjection of the slaves?" + +"No, sir, I have not been! On the contrary, their discontent is evident. +You are smoking a cigar on a powder-barrel." + +An explosion of derisive laughter from the Colonel followed this remark, +and turning to the Captain, he good-humoredly exclaimed: "Hasn't the +gentleman used his eyes and ears industriously!" + +"I am afraid he is more than half right," was the reply. "If this thing +should go on, I would not trust my own slaves, and I think they are +truly attached to me. If the fire once breaks out, the negroes will rush +into it, like horses into a burning barn." + +"Think you so!" exclaimed the Colonel in an excited manner. "By Heaven, +if I believed it, I would cut the throat of every slave in Christendom! +What," addressing me, "have you seen or heard, sir, that gives you that +opinion?" + +"Nothing but a sullen discontent and an eagerness for news, which show +they feel intense interest in what is going on, and know it concerns +_them_." + +"I haven't remarked that," he said rather musingly, "but it _may_ be so. +Does the North believe it? If we came to blows, would they try to excite +servile insurrection among us?" + +"The North, beyond a doubt, believes it," I replied, "yet I think even +the Abolitionists would aid you in putting down an insurrection; but +war, in my opinion, would not leave you a slave between the Rio Grande +and the Potomac." + +The Colonel at this rose, remarking: "You are mistaken. You are +mistaken, sir!" then turning to our host, said: "Captain, it is late: +had we not better retire?" Bidding me "good-night," he was gone. + +Our host soon returned from showing the guest to his apartment, and with +a quiet but deliberate manner, said to me: "You touched him, Mr. K----, +on a point where he knows we are weakest; but allow me to caution you +about expressing your opinions so freely. The Colonel is a gentleman, +and what you have said will do no harm, but, long as I have lived here, +_I_ dare not say to many what you have said to him to-night." + +Thanking the worthy gentleman for the caution, I followed him up stairs, +and soon lost, in a sweet oblivion, all thoughts of Abolitionists, +niggers, and the "grand empire." + +I was awakened in the morning by music under my window, and looking out +discovered about a dozen darkies gathered around my ebony driver, who +was clawing away with all his might at a dilapidated banjo, while his +auditory kept time to his singing, by striking the hand on the knee, and +by other gesticulations too numerous to mention. The songs were not much +to boast of, but the music was the genuine, dyed-in-the-wool, darky +article. The following was the refrain of one of the songs, which the +reader will perceive was an exhortation to early rising: + + "So up, good massa, let's be gwoin', + Let's be scratchin' ob de grabble; + For soon de wind may be a blowin', + An' we'se a sorry road to trabble." + +The storm of the previous night had ceased, but the sky was overcast, +and looked as if "soon de wind might be a-blowin'." Prudence counselled +an early start, for, doubtless, the runs, or small creeks, had become +swollen by the heavy rain, and would be unsafe to cross after dark. +Besides, beyond Conwayboro, our route lay for thirty miles through a +country without a solitary house where we could get decent shelter, were +we overtaken by a storm. + +Hurriedly performing my toilet, I descended to the drawing-room, where I +found the family assembled. After the usual morning salutations were +exchanged, a signal from the mistress caused the sounding of a bell in +the hall, and some ten or twelve men and women house-servants, of +remarkably neat and tidy appearance, among whom was my darky driver, +entered the apartment. They took a stand at the remote end of the room, +and our host, opening a large, well-worn family BIBLE, read the +fifty-fourth chapter of Isaiah. Then, all kneeling, he made a short +extemporaneous petition, closing with the LORD'S Prayer; all present, +black as well as white, joining in it. Then Heber's beautiful hymn, +"From Greenland's icy mountains," was sung; the negroes, to my ear, +making much better music than the whites. + +The services over, we adjourned to the dining-room, and after we were +seated, the "Colonel" remarked to me: "Did you notice how finely that +negro 'boy' (he was fully forty years old) sung?" + +"Yes," I replied, "I did. Do you know him, sir?" + +"Oh! yes, very well. His mistress wishes to sell him, but finds +difficulty in doing so. Though a likely negro, people will not buy him. +He's too smart." + +"That strikes me as a singular objection," I remarked. + +"Oh! no, not at all! These _knowing_ niggers frequently make a world of +trouble on a plantation." + +It was after ten o'clock before we were ready to start. The mills, the +negro-quarters, and various other parts of the plantation, and then +several vessels moored at the wharf, had to be seen before I could get +away. Finally, I bade my excellent host and his family farewell, and +with nearly as much regret as I ever felt at leaving my own home. I had +experienced the much-heard-of Southern hospitality, and had found the +report far below the reality. + +The other guest had taken his leave some time before, but not till he +had given me a cordial invitation to return by the way I came, and spend +a day or two with him, at his plantation on the river, some twenty miles +below. + +The sky was lowery, and the sandy road heavy with the recent rain, when +we started. The gloomy weather seemed to have infected the driver as +well as myself. He had lost the mirthfulness and loquacity of the +previous day, and we rode on for a full hour in silence. Tiring at last +of my own thoughts, I said to him: "Scip, what is the matter with you? +what makes you so gloomy?" + +"Nuffin, massa; I war only tinkin'," he abstractedly replied. + +"And what are you thinking about?" + +"I's wond'rin', massa, if de LORD mean de darkies in dose words of HIS +dat Massa B---- read dis mornin'." + +"What words do you mean? + +"Dese, massa: 'O dou 'fflicted! tossed wid de tempest, and habin no +comfort, behold, I will make you hous'n ob de fair colors, and lay dar +foundations wid safomires. All dy chil'ren shill be taught ob de LORD, +and great shill be dar peace. In de right shill dey be 'stablished; dey +shill hab no fear, no terror; it shan't come nigh 'em, and who come +against dem shill fall. Behold! I hab make de blacksmif dat blow de +coals, and make de weapons; and I hab make de waster dat shill destroy +de oppressors.'" + +If he had repeated one of Webster's orations I could not have been more +astonished. I did not remember the exact words of the passage, but I +knew he had caught its spirit. Was this his recollection of the reading +heard in the morning? or had he previously committed it to memory? These +questions I asked myself; but, restraining my curiosity, I answered: +"Undoubtedly they are meant for both the black and the white." + +"Do dey mean, massa, dat we shall be like de wite folks--wid our own +hous'n, our chil'ren taught in de schools, and wid weapons to strike +back when dey strike us?" + +"No, Scipio, they don't mean that. They refer principally to spiritual +matters. They were a promise to _all the world_ that when the SAVIOUR +came, all, even the greatly oppressed and afflicted, should hear the +great truths of the BIBLE about GOD, REDEMPTION, and the FUTURE." + +"But de SAVIOUR hab come, massa; and dose tings an't taught to de black +chil'ren. We hab no peace, no rights; nuffin but fear, 'pression, and +terror." + +"That is true, Scipio. The LORD takes HIS own time, but HIS time will +_surely_ come." + +"De LORD bless you, massa, for saying dat; and de LORD bless you for +telling dat big Cunnel, dat if dey gwo to war de brack man will be +FREE!" + +"Did you hear what we said?" I inquired, greatly surprised, for I +remembered remarking, during the interview of the previous evening, +that our host carefully kept the doors closed. + +"Ebery word, massa." + +"But how _could_ you hear? The doors and windows were shut. Where were +you?" + +"On de piazzer; and when I seed fru de winder dat de ladies war gwine, I +know'd you'd talk 'bout politics and de darkies--gemmen allers do. So I +opened de winder bery softly--you didn't har 'cause it rained and blowed +bery hard, and made a mighty noise. Den I stuffed my coat in de crack, +so de wind could'nt blow in and lef you know I was dar, but I lef a hole +big 'nough to har. My ear froze to dat hole, massa, bery tight, I 'shore +you." + +"But you must have got very wet and very cold." + +"Wet, massa! wetter dan a 'gator dat's been in de riber all de week, but +I didn't keer for de rain or de cold. What I hard made me warm all de +way fru." + +To my mind there was a rough picture of true heroism in that poor darky +standing for hours in his shirt-sleeves, in the cold, stormy night, the +lightning playing about him, and the rain drenching him to the +skin--that he might hear something he thought would benefit his +down-trodden race. + +I noticed his clothing though bearing evident marks of a drenching, was +then dry, and I inquired: "How did you dry your clothes?" + +"I staid wid some ob de cullud folks, and arter you gwoes up stars, I +went to dar cabin, and dey gabe me some dry cloes. We made up a big +fire, and hung mine up to dry, and de ole man and woman and me sot up +all night and talked ober what you and de oder gemmen said." + +"Will not those folks tell what you did, and thus get you into trouble?" + +"Tell! LORD bless you, massa, _de bracks am all freemasons_; dat ar ole +man and woman wud die 'fore dey'd tell." + +"But are not Captain B---'s negroes contented?" I asked; "they seem to +be well treated." + +"Oh! yas, dey am. All de brack folks 'bout har want de Captin to buy +'em. He bery nice man--one ob de LORD'S own people. He better man dan +David, 'cause David did wrong, and I don't b'lieve de Captin eber did." + +"I should think he was a very good man," I replied. + +"Bery good man, massa, but de white folks don't like him, 'cause dey say +he treats him darkies so well, all dairn am uncontented." + +"Tell me, Scipio," I resumed after a while, "how it is you can repeat +that passage from Isaiah so well?" + +"Why, bless you, massa, I know Aziar and Job and de Psalms 'most all by +heart. Good many years ago, when I lib'd in Charles'on, the gub'ness +learned me to read, and I hab read dat BOOK fru good many times." + +"Have you read any others?" I asked. + +"None but dat and Doctor Watts. I hab _dem_, but wite folks wont sell +books to de bracks, and I wont steal 'em. I read de papers sometimes." + +I opened my portmanteau, that lay on the floor of the wagon, and handed +him a copy of Whittier's poems. It happened to be the only book, +excepting the BIBLE, that I had with me. + +"Read that, Scipio," I said. "It is a book of poetry, but written by a +good man at the North, who greatly pities the slave." + +He took the book, and the big tears rolled down his cheeks, as he said: +"Tank you, massa, tank you. Nobody war neber so good to me afore." + +During our conversation, the sky, which had looked threatening all the +morning, began to let fall the big drops of rain; and before we reached +Conwayboro, it poured down much after the fashion of the previous night. +It being cruelty to both man and beast to remain out in such a deluge, +we pulled up at the village hotel (kept, like the one at Georgetown, by +a lady), and determined to remain overnight, unless the rain should +abate in time to allow us to reach our destination before dark. + +Dinner being ready soon after our arrival (the people of Conwayboro, +like the "common folks" that Davy Crockett told about, dine at twelve), +I sat down to it, first hanging my outer garments, which were somewhat +wet, before the fire in the sitting-room. The house seemed to be a sort +of public boarding-house, as well as hotel, for quite a number of +persons, evidently town's-people were at the dinner-table. My appearance +attracted some attention, though not more, I thought, than would be +naturally excited in so quiet a place by the arrival of a stranger; but +"as nobody said nothing to me, I said nothing to nobody." + +Dinner over, I adjourned to the "sitting-room," and seating myself by +the fire, watched the drying of my "outer habiliments." While thus +engaged, the door opened, and three men--whom I should have taken for +South Carolina gentlemen, had not a further acquaintance convinced me to +the contrary--entered the room. Walking directly up to where I was +sitting, the foremost one accosted me something after this manner: + +"I see you are from the North, sir." + +Taken a little aback by the abruptness of the "salute," but guessing his +object, I answered: "No, sir; I am from the South." + +"From what part of the South?" + +"I left Georgetown yesterday, and Charleston two days before that," I +replied, endeavoring to seem entirely oblivious to his meaning. + +"We don't want to know whar you war yesterday; we want to know whar you +_belong_," he said, with a little impatience. + +"Oh! that's it. Well, sir, I belong _here_ just at present, or rather I +shall, when I have paid the landlady for my dinner." + +Annoyed by my coolness, and getting somewhat excited, he replied +quickly: "You mustn't trifle with us, sir. We know you. You're from the +North. We've seen it on your valise, and we can't allow a man who +carries the New York _Independent_ to travel in South Carolina." + +The scoundrels had either broken into my portmanteau, or else a copy of +that paper had dropped from it on to the floor of the wagon when I gave +the book to Scipio. At any rate, they had seen it, and it was evident +"Brother Beecher" was getting me into a scrape. I felt indignant at the +impudence of the fellow, but determined to keep cool, and, a little +sarcastically, replied to the latter part of his remark: + +"That's a pity, sir. South Carolina will lose by it." + +"This game wont work, sir. We don't want such people as you har, and the +sooner you make tracks the better." + +"I intend to leave, sir, as soon as the rain is over, and shall travel +thirty miles on your sandy roads to-day, if you don't coax me to stay +here by your hospitality," I quietly replied. + +The last remark was just the one drop needed to make his wrath "bile +over," and he savagely exclaimed: "I tell you, sir, we will not be +trifled with. You must be off to Georgetown at once. You can have just +half an hour to leave the Boro', not a second more." + +His tone and manner aroused what little combativeness there is in me. +Rising from my chair, and taking up my outside-coat, in which was one of +Colt's six-shooters, I said to him: "Sir, I am here, a peaceable man, on +peaceable, private business. I have started to go up the country, and go +there I shall; and I shall leave this place at my convenience--not +before. I have endured your impertinence long enough, and shall have no +more of it. If you attempt to interfere with my movements, you will do +so at your peril." + +My blood was up, and I was fast losing that better part of valor called +discretion; and _he_ evidently understood my movement, and did not +dislike the turn affairs were taking. There is no telling what might +have followed had not Scip just at that instant inserted his woolly head +between us, excitedly exclaiming: "Lord bless you, Massa B----ll; what +_am_ you 'bout? Why, dis gemman am a 'ticlar friend of Cunnel A----. +He'm a reg'lar sesherner. He hates de ablisherners worser dan de debble. +I hard him swar a clar, blue streak 'bout dem only yesterday." + +"Massa B----ll" was evidently taken aback by the announcement of the +negro, but did not seem inclined to "give it up so" at once, for he +asked: "How do you know he's the Colonel's friend, Scip? Who told you +so?" + +"Who told me so?" exclaimed the excited negro, "why, didn't he stay at +Captin B----'s, wid de Cunnel, all night last night; and didn't dey set +up dar doin' politic business togedder till arter midnight? Didn't de +Cunnel come dar in all de storm 'pressly to see dis gemman?" + +The ready wit and rude eloquence of the darky amused me, and the idea of +the "Cunnel" travelling twenty miles through the terrible storm of the +previous night to meet a man who had the New York _Independent_ about +him, was so perfectly ludicrous, that I could not restrain my laughter. +That laugh did the business for "Massa B----ll." What the negro had +said staggered, but did not convince him; but my returning good-humor +brought him completely round. Extending his hand to me, he said: "I see, +sir, I've woke up the wrong passenger. Hope you'll take no offence. In +these times we need to know who come among us." + +"No offence whatever, sir," I replied. "It is easy to be mistaken; but," +I added smilingly, "I hope, for the sake of the next traveller, you'll +be less precipitate another time." + +"I _am_ rather hasty; that's a fact," he said. "But no harm is done. So +let's take a drink, and say no more about it. The old lady har keeps +nary a thing, but we can get the _raal stuff_ close by." + +Though not a member of a "Total Abstinence Society," I have always +avoided indulging in the quality of fluid that is the staple beverage at +the South. I therefore hesitated a moment before accepting the +gentleman's invitation; but the alternative seemed to be squarely +presented, pistols or drinks; cold lead or poor whiskey, and--I am +ashamed to confess it--I took the whiskey. + +Returning to the hotel, I found Scip awaiting me. "Massa," he said, "we +better be gwine. Dat dar sesherner am ugly as de bery ole debble; and +soon as he knows I cum de possum ober him 'bout de Cunnel, he'll be +down on you _shore_." + +The rain had dwindled to a drizzle, which the sun was vigorously +struggling to get through with a tolerable prospect of success, and I +concluded to take the African's advice. Wrapping myself in an +India-rubber overcoat, and giving the darky a blanket of the same +material, I started. + +[Footnote B: I very much regret to learn, that since my meeting with +this most excellent gentleman, being obnoxious to the Secession leaders +for his well-known Union sentiments, he has been very onerously assessed +by them for contributions for carrying on the war. The sum he has been +forced to pay, is stated as high as forty thousand dollars, but that may +be, and I trust is, an exaggeration. In addition--and this fact is +within my own knowledge--five of his vessels have been seized in the +Northern ports by our Government. This exposure of true Union men to a +double fire, is one of the most unhappy circumstances attendant upon +this most unhappy war.] + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +CROSSING THE "RUNS." + + +The long, tumble-down bridge which spans the Waccamaw at Conwayboro, +trembled beneath our horse's tread, as with lengthened stride he shook +the secession mud from his feet, and whirled us along into the dark, +deep forest. It may have been the exhilaration of a hearty dinner of +oats, or it may have been sympathy with the impatience of his +fellow-travellers that spurred him on; whichever it was, away he went as +if Lucifer--that first Secessionist--were following close at his heels. + +The sun, which for a time had been industriously wedging his way into +the dark masses of cloud, finally slunk out of sight and left us +enveloped in a thick fog, which shut from view all of Cottondom, except +a narrow belting of rough pines, and a few rods of sandy road that +stretched out in dim perspective before us. There being nothing in the +outside creation to attract my attention, I drew the apron of the +carriage about me, and settling myself well back on the seat to avoid +the thick-falling mist, fell into a train of dreamy reflection. + +Niggers, slave-auctions, cotton-fields, rice-swamps, and King Cotton +himself, that blustering old despot, with his swarthy arms and +"under-pinning," his face of brass, and body of "raw material," passed +through my mind, like Georgia trains through the Oconee Swamp, till +finally my darky friend came into view. He seemed at first a little +child, amid the blazing ruins of his wilderness home, gazing in stupid +horror on the burning bodies of his father and his kindred. Then he was +kneeling at the side of his dying mother in the slave-pen at Cape Lopez, +and--still a child--cooped in the "Black-hole" of the accursed +slave-ship, his little frame burning with the fever-fire, and his +child-heart longing for death. Then he seemed mounting the Cuban +slave-block, and as the "going! going! gone!" rung in my ear, he was +hurried away, and driven to the cruel task--still a child--on the hot, +unhealthy sugar-field. Again he appeared, stealing away at night to a +lonely hut, and by the light of a pine-knot, wearily poring over the +BOOK of BOOKS, slowly putting letters into words, and words into +sentences, that he might know _"What God says to the black man."_ Then +he seemed a man--splendid of frame, noble of soul--suspended in the +whipping-rack, his arms bound above his head, his body resting on the +tips of his toes, and the merciless lash falling on his bare back, till +the red stream ran from it like a river--scourged because he would not +aid in creating beings as wretched as himself, and make merchandise of +his own blood to gorge the pocket of an incarnate white devil. + +As these things passed before me, and I thought of his rare +intelligence, of his fine traits of character, and of the true heroism +he had shown in risking, perhaps, his own life to get me--a +stranger--out of an ugly hobble, I felt a certain spot in my left side +warming toward him, very much as it might have done had his blood been +as pure as my own. It seemed to me a pity--anti-Abolitionist and +Southern-sympathizer though I was--that a man of such rare natural +talent, such character and energy, should have his large nature dwarfed, +be tethered for life to a cotton-stalk, and made to wear his soul out in +a tread-mill, merely because his skin had a darker tinge and his shoe a +longer heel than mine. + +As I mused over his "strange, eventful history," and thought of the +handy way nature has of putting the _right_ man in the _wrong_ place, it +occurred to me how "Brother Beecher" one evening, not a long time +before, had charmed the last dollar from my waistcoat pocket by +exhibiting, _a la_ Barnum, a remarkably ugly "cullud pusson" on his +pulpit stairs, and by picturing the awful doom which awaited her--that +of being reduced from baby-tending to some less useful employment--if +his audience did not at once "do the needful." Then it occurred to me +how much finer a spectacle my ebony friend would make; how well his six +feet of manly sinew would grace those pulpit stairs; how eloquently the +reverend gentleman might expatiate on the burning sin of shrouding the +light of such an intellect in the mists of niggerdom, only to see it +snuffed out in darkness; how he might enlarge on what the black could do +in elevating his race, either as "cullud" assistant to "Brother Pease" +at the Five-Points, or as co-laborer with Fred Douglass at abolition +conventions, or, if that didn't _pay_, how, put into the minstrel +business, he might run the white "troupes" off the track, and yield a +liberal revenue to the "Cause of Freedom." As I thought of the probable +effect of this last appeal, it seemed to me that the thing was already +done, and that SCIP was FREE. + +I got back from dreamland by the simple act of opening my eyes, and +found myself still riding along in that Jersey wagon, over that heavy, +sandy road, and drenched with the mists of that dreary December day. The +reverie made, however, a deep impression on me, and I gave vent to it +somewhat as follows: + +"Colonel A---- tells me, Scip, that your mistress wants to sell you. Do +you know what she asks?" + +"She ax fifteen hundred dollar, massa, but I an't worth dat now. Nigger +property's mighty low." + +"What is your value now?" + +"P'raps eight hundred, p'raps a thousand dollar, massa." + +"Would your mistress take a thousand for you?" + +"Don't know, sar, but reckon she would. She'd be glad to get shut of me. +She don't like me on de plantation, 'cause she say de oder darkies tink +too much ob me; and she don't like me in de city, 'cause she 'fraid I +run away." + +"Why afraid you'll runaway? Did you ever try to?" + +"Try to! LOR, massa, I neber taught ob such a ting--wouldn't +gwo ef I could." + +"But wouldn't you?" I asked, thinking he had conscientious scruples +about running away; "wouldn't you if you could buy yourself, and go +honestly, as a _free_ man?" + +"Buy myself, sar!" he exclaimed in surprise; "buy _my own_ flesh and +blood dat de LORD hissef gabe me! No, no! massa; I'd likes to be free, +but I'd neber do _dat_!" + +"Why not do that?" I asked. + +"'Cause 't would be owning dat de white folks hab a right to de brack; +and 'cause, sar, if I war free I couldn't stay har." + +"Why should you stay here? You have no wife nor child; why not go where +the black man is respected and useful?" + +"I'se 'spected and useful har, massa. I hab no wife nor child, and dat +make me feel, I s'pose, like as ef all de brack people war my chil'ren." + +"But they are not your children; and you can be of no service to them. +At the North you might learn, and put your talents to some use." + +"Sar," he replied, a singular enthusiasm lighting up his face, "de LORD, +dat make me what I ar, put me har, and I must stay. Sometimes when tings +look bery brack, and I feel a'most 'scouraged, I goes to HIM, and I say, +'LORD, I's ob no use, take me 'way; let me get fru wid dis; let me no +more see de suffrin' and 'pression ob de pore cullud race;' den HE say +to me, just so plain as I say it to you, 'Keep up good courage, Scipio, +de time will come;'[C] and now, bless de LORD, de time am coming!" + +"_What_ time is coming, Scipio?" + +He gave me a quick, suspicious glance, but his face in a moment resumed +its usual expression, as he replied: "I'se sure, massa, dat I could +trust you. I feel you am my friend, but I can't say no more." + +"You need not, Scip--I can guess. What you have said is safe with me. +But let me counsel you--wait for the white man. Do not let your freedom +come in blood!" + +"It will come, massa, as de LORD will. When HE war freed _de earth +shook, and de vail ob de temple war rent in twain_!" + +We said no more, but rode on in silence; the darky absorbed in his own +reflections, I musing over the black volcano, whose muffled echoes I +then heard "away down South in Dixie." + +We had ridden on for about an hour, when an opening in the trees +disclosed a by-path, leading to a plantation. Following it for a short +distance, we came upon a small clearing, in the midst of which, flanked +by a ragged corn and potato patch, squatted a dilapidated, unpainted +wooden building, a sort of "half-way house" between a hut and a shanty. +In its door-way, seated on a chair which wanted one leg and a back, was +a suit of linsey-woolsey, adorned by enormous metal buttons, and +surmounted by a queer-looking headpiece that might have passed for +either a hat or an umbrella. I was at a loss to determine whether the +object were a human being or a scarecrow, when, at the sound of our +approach, the umbrella-like article lifted, and a pair of sunken eyes, a +nose, and an enormous beard, disclosed themselves. Addressing myself to +the singular figure, I inquired how far we were from our destination, +and the most direct route to it. + +"Wal, stranger," was the reply, "it's a right smart twenty mile to the +Cunnel's, but I reckon ye'll get thar, if ye follow yer critter's nose, +and ar good at swimming." + +"Why good at swimming?" I inquired. + +"'Cause the 'runs' have ris, and ar considerable deep by this time." + +"That's comforting news." + +"Yas, to a man as seems in a hurry," he replied, looking at my horse, +which was covered with foam. + +"How far is it to the nearest run?" I asked. + +"Wal, it mought be six mile; it mought be seven, but you've one or two +all-fired ones to cross arter that." + +Here was a pleasant predicament. It was nearly five o'clock, and our +horse, though a noble animal, could not make the distance on an +unobstructed route, in the then heavy state of the roads, in less than +three hours. Long before that time it would be dark, and no doubt +stormy, for the sky, which had lowered all the afternoon, every now and +then uttered an ominous growl, and seemed ready to fall down upon us. +But turning back was out of the question, so, thanking the "native," I +was about to proceed, when he hailed me as follows: + +"I say, stranger, what's the talk in the city?" + +"Nothing, sir," I replied, "but fight and Secession." + +"D--n Secession!" was the decidedly energetic answer. + +"Why so, my friend? That doctrine seems to be popular hereabouts." + +"Yas, pop'lar with them South Car'lina chaps. They'd be oneasy in heaven +if Gabriel was cook, and the LORD head-waiter." + +"They must be hard to suit," I said; "I 'kalkerlate' _you're_ not a +South Carolinian." + +"No, sir-ee! not by several mile. My mother moved over the line to born +me a decent individual." + +"But why are you for the Union, when your neighbors go the other way?" + +"'Cause it's allers carried us 'long as slick as a cart with new-greased +wheels; and 'cause, stranger, my grand'ther was one of Marion's boys, +and spilt a lettle claret at Yewtaw for the old consarn, and I reckon +he'd be oneasy in his grave if I turned my back on it now." + +"But, my friend," I said, "they say Lincoln is an Abolitionist, and if +inaugurated, he will free every darky you've got." + +"He can't do that, stranger, 'cordin' to the Constetution, and +grand'ther used to say that ar dokermunt would hold the d--l himself; +but, for my part, I'd like to see the niggers free." + +"See the niggers free!" I replied in undisguised astonishment; "why, my +good sir, that is rank treason and abolition." + +"Call it what yer a mind to, them's my sentiments; but I say, stranger, +if thar's ony thing on airth that I uttarly dispise it ar a Northern +dough-face, and it's clar yer one on 'em." + +"There, my friend, you're mistaken. I'm neither an Abolitionist nor a +dough-face. But _why_ do you go for freeing the niggers?" + +"'Cause the white folks would be better off. You see, I have to feed and +clothe my niggers, and pay a hundred and twenty and a hundred and fifty +a year for 'em, and if the niggers war free, they'd work for 'bout half +that." + +Continuing the conversation, I learned that the umbrella-hatted +gentleman worked twenty hired negroes in the gathering of turpentine; +and that the district we were entering was occupied by persons in the +same pursuit, who nearly all employed "hired hands," and entertained +similar sentiments; Colonel J----, whom I was about to visit, and who +was a large slave-_owner_, being about the only exception. This, the +reader will please remember, was the state of things at the date of +which I am writing, in the _very heart_ of Secessiondom. + +Bidding the turpentine-getter a rather reluctant "good-by," I rode on +into the rain. + +It was nearly dark when we reached the first "run," but, fortunately, it +was less swollen than our way-side acquaintance had represented, and we +succeeded in crossing without difficulty. Hoping that the others might +be equally as fordable, we pushed rapidly on, the darkness meanwhile +gathering thickly about us, and the rain continuing to fall. Our way lay +through an unbroken forest, and as the wind swept fiercely through it, +the tall dark pines which towered on either side, moaned and sighed like +a legion of unhappy spirits let loose from the dark abodes below. +Occasionally we came upon a patch of woods where the turpentine-gatherer +had been at work, and the white faces of the "tapped" trees, gleaming +through the darkness, seemed an army of "sheeted ghosts" closing +steadily around us. The darkness, the rain, and the hideous noises in +the forest, called up unpleasant associations, and I inwardly determined +to ask hospitality from the first human being, black or white, whom we +should meet. + +We had ridden on for about an hour after dark, when suddenly our horse's +feet plashed in the water, and he sank to his middle in a stream. My +first thought was that we were in the second "run," but as he pushed +slowly on, the water momentarily growing deeper, and spreading on either +side as far as we could see, it flashed upon me that we had missed the +road in the darkness, and were fairly launched into the Waccamaw river! +Turning to the darky, who was then driving, I said quickly: + +"Scip, stop the horse. Where are we?" + +"Don't know, massa; reckon we'se in de riber." + +"A comfortable situation this. We can't turn round. The horse can't swim +such a stream in harness. What shall we do?" + +"Can you swim, massa?" he quietly asked. + +"Yes, like an eel." + +"Wal, den, we'd better gwo on. De hoss'll swim. But, massa, you might +take off your boots and overcoat, and be ready for a spring ef he gwo +down." + +I did as he directed, while he let down the apron and top of the wagon, +and fastened the reins loosely to the dash-board, saying as he did so, +"You must allers gib a hoss his head when he swim, massa; if you rein +him, he gwo down, shore." Then, undoing a portion of the harness, to +give the horse the free use of his legs, he shouted, "Gee up, ole Gray," +and we started. + +The noble animal stepped off slowly and cautiously, as if fully aware of +the danger of the passage, but had proceeded only about fifty yards when +he lost his footing, and plunged us into an entirely new and decidedly +cold hip-bath. "Now's de time, ole Gray," "show your broughten up, ole +boy," "let de gemman see you swim, ole feller," and similar remarks +proceeded rapidly from the darky, who all the time avoided touching the +reins. + +It may have been one minute, it may have been five minutes--I took "no +note of _time_"--before the horse again struck bottom, and halted from +sheer exhaustion, the water still almost level with his back, and the +opposite bank too far-off to be seen through the darkness. After a short +rest, he again "breasted the waters," and in a few moments landed us on +the shore; not, unfortunately, in the road, but in the midst of the +pine-trees, there so entangled with under-growth, that not even a man, +much less a horse, could make his way through them. Wet to the skin, and +shivering with the cold, we had no time to lose "in gittin' out of dat," +if we would avoid greater dangers than those we had escaped. So, +springing from the wagon, the darky waded up the stream, near its bank, +to reconnoitre. Returning in a few minutes, he reported that we were +about a hundred yards below the road. We had been carried that far down +stream by the strength of the current. Our only course was to follow the +"run" up along its bank; this we did, and in a short time had the +satisfaction of striking the high road. Arranging the harness, we were +soon under way again, the horse bounding along as if he felt the +necessity of vigorous exercise to restore his chilled circulation. We +afterward learned that it was not the Waccamaw we had crossed, but the +second "run" our native friend had told us of, and that the water in the +middle of its stream was fifteen feet deep! + +Half-dead with cold and wet, we hurried on, but still no welcome light +beckoned us to a human habitation. The darkness grew denser till we +could not even distinguish the road, much less our horse's nose, which +we had been directed to follow. Inwardly cursing the folly which +brought me into such a wilderness, I said to the darky: + +"Scip, I'm sorry I took you on such a trip as this." + +"Oh! neber mind me, massa; I ruther like de dark night and de storm." + +"Like the night and the storm! why so?" + +"'Cause den de wild spirits come out, and talk in de trees. Dey make me +feel bery strong _har_," he replied, striking his hand on his breast. + +"The night and the storm, Scip, make _me_ feel like cultivating another +sort of _spirits_. There are some in the wagon-box; suppose we stop and +see what they are." + +We stopped, and I took out a small willow-flask, which held the "spirits +of Otard," and offered it to the darky. + +"No, massa," he said, laughing, "I neber touch dem sort ob spirits; dey +raise de bery ole deble." + +Not heeding the darky's example, I took "a long and a strong pull," +and--felt the better for it. + +Again we rode on, and again and again I "communed with the spirits," +till a sudden exclamation from Scip aroused me from the half-stupor into +which I was falling. "What's the matter?" I asked. + +"A light, massa, a light!" + +"Where?" + +"Dar, way off in de trees--" + +"Sure enough, glory, hallelujah, there it is! We're all right now, +Scip." + +We rode on till we came to the inevitable opening in the trees, and were +soon at the door of what I saw, by the light which came through the +crevices in the logs, was a one-story shanty, about twenty feet square. +"Will you let us come in out of de rain?" asked Scip of a +wretched-looking, half-clad, dirt-bedraggled woman, who thrust her head +from the doorway. + +"Who ar ye?" was the reply. + +"Only massa and me, and de hoss, and we'm half dead wid de cold," +replied Scip; "can we cum in out ob de rain?" + +"Wal, strangers," replied the woman, eyeing us as closely as the +darkness would permit, "you'll find mighty poor fixins har, but I reckon +ye can come in." + +[Footnote C: The Southern blacks, like all ignorant people, are intensely +fanatical on religious subjects. The most trifling occurrences have to +their minds a hidden significance, and they believe the LORD speaks to +them in signs and dreams, and in almost every event of nature. This +superstition, which has been handed down from their savage ancestry, has +absolute sway over them, and one readily sees what immense power it +would give to some leading, adroit mind, that knew how to use it. By +means of it they might be led to the most desperate deeds, fully +believing all the while that they were "led ob de LORD."] + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +POOR WHITES. + + +Entering the house, we saw, by the light of a blazing pile of +pine-knots, which roared and crackled on the hearth, that it contained +only a single apartment. In front of the fire-place, which occupied the +better half of one side of this room, the floor was of the bare earth, +littered over with pine chips, dead cinders, live coals, broken pots, +and a lazy spaniel dog. Opposite to this, at the other end of the room, +were two low beds, which looked as if they had been "slept in forever, +and never made up." Against the wall, between the beds and the +fire-place, stood a small pine table, and on it was a large wooden bowl, +from whose mouth protruded the handles of several unwashed pewter +spoons. On the right of the fire was a razeed rocking-chair, evidently +the peculiar property of the mistress of the mansion, and three blocks +of pine log, sawn off smoothly, and made to serve for seats. Over +against these towered a high-backed settle, something like that on which + + "sot Huldy all alone, + When Zeke peeked thru the winder;" + +and on it, her head resting partly on her arm, partly on the end of the +settle, one small, bare foot pressing the ground, the other, with the +part of the person which is supposed to require stockings, extended in a +horizontal direction--reclined, not Huldy, but her Southern cousin, who, +I will wager, was decidedly the prettier and dirtier of the two. Our +entrance did not seem to disconcert her in the least, for she lay there +as unmoved as a marble statue, her large black eyes riveted on my face, +as if seeing some nondescript animal for the first time. I stood for a +moment transfixed with admiration. In a somewhat extensive observation +of her sex in both hemispheres, I had never witnessed such a form, such +eyes, such faultless features, and such wavy, black, luxuriant hair. A +glance at her dress--a soiled, greasy, grayish linsey-woolsey gown, +apparently her only garment--and a second look at her face, which, on +closer inspection, had precisely the hue of a tallow candle, recalled me +to myself, and allowed me to complete the survey of the premises. + +The house was built of unhewn logs, separated by wide interstices, +through which the cold air came, in decidedly fresh if not health-giving +currents, while a large rent in the roof, that let in the rain, gave the +inmates an excellent opportunity for indulging in a shower-bath, of +which they seemed greatly in need. The chimney, which had intruded a +couple of feet into the room, as if to keep out of the cold, and +threatened momentarily to tumble down, was of sticks, built up in clay, +while the windows were of thick, unplaned boards. + +Two pretty girls, one of perhaps ten and the other of fourteen years, +evidently sisters of the unadorned beauty, the middle-aged woman +who had admitted us, and the dog--the only male member of the +household--composed the family. I had seen negro cabins, but these +people were whites, and these whites were _South Carolinians_. When such +counterparts of the feudal serfs still exist, who will say that the days +of chivalry are over! + +After I had seated myself by the fire, and the driver had gone out to +stow the horse away under the tumble-down shed at the back of the house, +the elder woman said to me-- + +"Reckon yer wet. Ben in the rain!" + +"Yes, madam, we've been out most of the day, and got in the river below +here." + +"Did ye? Ye mean the 'run.' I reckon it's right deep now." + +"Yes, our horse had to swim," I replied. + +"Ye orter strip and put on dry cloes to onst." + +"Thank you, madam, I will." + +Going to my portmanteau, which the darky had placed near the door, I +found it dripping with wet, and opening it I discovered that every +article had undergone the rite of immersion. + +"Every thing is thoroughly soaked, madam. I shall have to dry myself by +your fire. Can you get me a cup of tea?" + +"Right sorry, stranger, but I can't. Haint a morsel to eat or drink in +the house." + +Remembering that our excellent hostess of the night before had insisted +on filling the wagon-box with a quantity of "chicken fixins," to serve +us in an emergency, and that my brandy flask was in my India-rubber +coat, I sent Scip out for them. + +The stores disclosed boiled chicken, bacon, sandwiches, sweet potatoes, +short cake, corn-bread, buttered waffles, and 'common doin's' too +numerous to mention, enough to last a family of one for a fortnight, but +all completely saturated with water. Wet or dry, however, the provisions +were a godsend to the half-starved family, and their hearts seemed to +open to me with amazing rapidity. The dog got up and wagged his tail, +and even the marble-like beauty rose from her reclining posture and +invited me to a seat with her on the bench. + +The kettle was soon steaming over the fire, and the boiling water, mixed +with a little brandy, served as a capital substitute for tea. After the +chicken was recooked, and the other edibles "warmed up," the little pine +table was brought out, and I learned--what I had before suspected--that +the big wooden bowl and the half dozen pewter spoons were the only +"crockery" the family possessed. + +I declined the proffered seat at the table, the cooking utensils being +any thing but inviting, and contented myself with the brandy and water; +but, forgetting for a moment his color, I motioned to the darky--who was +as wet and jaded, and much more hungry than I was--to take the place +offered to me. The negro did not seem inclined to do so, but the woman, +observing my gesture, yelled out, her eyes flashing with anger: + +"No, sar! No darkies eats with us. Hope you don't reckon _yerself_ no +better than a good-for-nothin', no account nigger!" + +"I beg your pardon, madam; I intended no offence. Scipio has served me +very faithfully for two days, and is very tired and hungry. I forgot +myself." + +This mollified the lady, and she replied: + +"Niggers is good enuff in thar place, but warn't meant to 'sociate with +white folks." + +There may have been some ground for a distinction in that case; there +certainly was a difference between the specimens of the two races then +before me; but, not being one of the chivalry, it struck me that the +odds were on the side of the black man. The whites were shiftless, +ragged, and starving; the black well clad, cleanly, energetic, and as +much above the others in intellect as Jupiter is above a church steeple. +To be sure, color was against him, and he was, after all, a servant in +the land of chivalry and of servant-owners. Of course the woman was +right. + +She soon resumed the conversation with this remark: + +"Reckon yer a stranger in these parts; whar d'ye come from?" + +"From New York, madam." + +"New York! whar's that?" + +"It's a city at the North." + +"Oh! yas; I've heern tell on it: that's whar the Cunnel sells his +turpentime. Quite a place, arnt it?" + +"Yes, quite a place. Something larger than all South Carolina." + +"What d'ye say? Larger nor South Carolina. Kinder reckon tain't, is't?" + +"Yes, madam, it is." + +"Du tell! 'Taint so large as Charles'n, is't?" + +"Yes, twenty times larger than Charleston." + +"Lord o'massy! How does all the folks live thar?" + +"Live quite as well as they do here." + +"Ye don't have no niggers thar, does ye?" + +"Yes, but none that are slaves." + +"Have Ablisherners thar, don't ye? them people that go agin the South?" + +"Yes, some of them." + +"What do they go agin the South for?" + +"They go for freeing the slaves. Some of them think a black man as good +as a white one." + +"Quar, that; yer an Ablisherner, arnt ye?" + +"No, I'm an old-fashioned Whig." + +"What's that? Never heerd on them afore." + +"An old-fashioned Whig, madam, is a man whose political principles are +perfect, and who is as perfect as his principles." + +That was a "stumper" for the poor woman, who evidently did not +understand one-half of the sentence. + +"Right sort of folks, them," she said, in a half inquiring tone. + +"Yes, but they're all dead now." + +"Dead?" + +"Yes, dead, beyond the hope of resurrection." + +"Iv'e heern all the dead war to be resurrected. Didn't ye say ye war one +on 'em? _Ye_ aint dead yet," said the woman, chuckling at having +cornered me. + +"But I'm more than _half_ dead just now." + +"Ah," replied the woman, still laughing, "yer a chicken." + +"A chicken! what's that?" + +"A thing that goes on tu legs, and karkles," was the ready reply. + +"Ah, my dear madam, you can out-talk me." + +"Yas, I reckon I kin outrun ye, tu. Ye arnt over rugged." Then, after a +pause, she added--"What d'ye 'lect that darky, Linkum, President for?" + +"I didn't elect him. _I_ voted for Douglas. But Lincoln is not a darky." + +"He's a mullater, then; I've heern he war," she replied. + +"No, he's not a mulatto; he's a rail-splitter." + +"Rail-splitter? _Then he's a nigger, shore._" + +"No, madam; white men at the North split rails." + +"An' white wimmin tu, p'raps," said the woman, with a contemptuous toss +of the head. + +"No, they don't," I replied, "but white women _work_ there." + +"White wimmin work thar!" chimed in the hitherto speechless beauty, +showing a set of teeth of the exact color of her skin--_yaller_. "What +du the' du?" + +"Some of them attend in stores, some set type, some teach school, and +some work in factories." + +"Du tell! Dress nice, and make money?" + +"Yes," I replied, "they make money, and dress like fine ladies; in fact, +_are_ fine ladies. I know one young woman, of about your age, that had +to get her own education, who earns a thousand dollars a year by +teaching, and I've heard of many factory-girls who support their +parents, and lay by a great deal of money, by working in the mills." + +"Wal!" replied the young woman, with a contemptuous curl of her +matchless upper lip; "schule-marms arn't fine ladies; fine ladies don't +work; only niggers works _har_. I reckon I'd rather be 'spectable than +work for a livin'." + +I could but think how magnificently the lips of some of our glorious +Yankee girls would have curled had they have heard that remark, and have +seen the poor girl that made it, with her torn, worn, greasy dress; her +bare, dirty legs and feet, and her arms, neck, and face so thickly +encrusted with a layer of clayey mud that there was danger of +hydrophobia if she went near a wash-tub. Restraining my involuntary +disgust, I replied: + +"We at the North think work is respectable. We do not look down on a man +or a woman for earning their daily bread. We all work." + +"Yas, and that's the why ye'r all sech cowards," said the old woman. + +"Cowards!" I said; "who tells you that?" + +"My old man; he says one on our _boys_ can lick five of your Yankee +_men_." + +"Perhaps so. Is your husband away from home?" + +"Yas, him and our Cal. ar down to Charles'n." + +"Cal. is your son, is he?" + +"Yas, he's my oldest, and a likely lad he ar tu--he's twenty-one, and +his name are JOHN CAL'OUN MILLS. He's gone a troopin' it with his +fader." + +"What, both gone and left you ladies here alone?" + +"Yas, the Cunnel sed every man orter go, and they warn't to be ahind the +rest. The Cunnel--Cunnel J.--looks arter us while they is away." + +"But I should think the Colonel looked after you poorly--giving you +nothing to eat." + +"Oh! it's ben sech a storm to-day, the gals couldn't go for the vittles, +though 'tain't a great way. We'r on his plantation; this house is +his'n." + +This last was agreeable news, and it occurred to me that if we were so +near the Colonel's we might push on, in spite of the storm, and get +there that night; so I said: + +"Indeed; I'm going to the Colonel's. How far is his house from here?" + +"A right smart six mile; it's at the Cross roads. Ye know the Cunnel, du +ye?" + +"Oh, yes, I know him well. If his home is not more than six miles off, I +think we had better go on to-night. What do you say, Scip?" + +"I reckon we'd better gwo, massa," replied the darky, who had spread my +travelling-shawl in the chimney-corner, and was seated on it, drying his +clothes. + +"Ye'd better not," said the woman; "ye'd better stay har; thar's a right +smart run twixt har and the Cunnel's, and 'tain't safe to cross arter +dark." + +"If that is so we'd better stay, Scip; don't you think so?" I said to +the darky. + +"Jess as you say, massa. We got fru wid de oder one, and I reckon taint +no wuss nor dat." + +"The bridge ar carried away, and ye'll hev to swim _shore_," said the +woman. "Ye'd better stay." + +"Thank you, madam, I think we will," I replied, after a moment's +thought; "our horse has swum one of your creeks to-night, and I dare not +try another." + +Having taken off my coat, I had been standing, during the greater part +of this conversation, in my shirt-sleeves before the fire, turning round +occasionally to facilitate the drying process, and taking every now and +then a sip from the gourd containing our brandy and water; aided in the +latter exercise by the old woman and the eldest girl, who indulged quite +as freely as I did. + +"Mighty good brandy that," at last said the woman. "Ye like brandy, +don't ye?" + +"Not very much, madam. I take it to-night because I've been exposed to +the storm, and it stimulates the circulation. But Scip, here, don't like +spirits. He'll get the rheumatism because he don't." + +"Don't like dem sort of sperits, massa; but rumatics neber trubble me." + +"But I've got it mighty bad," said the woman, "_and I take 'em whenever +I kin get 'em_." + +I rather thought she did, but I "reckoned" her principal beverage was +whiskey. + +"You have the rheumatism, madam, because your house is so open; a +draught of air is always unhealthy." + +"I allers reckoned 'twar _healthy_," she replied. "Ye Yankee folks have +quar notions." + +I looked at my watch, and found it was nearly ten o'clock, and, feeling +very tired, said to the hostess: + +"Where do you mean we shall sleep?" + +"Ye can take that ar bed," pointing to the one nearer the wall, "the +darky can sleep har;" motioning to the settle on which she was seated. + +"But where will you and your daughters sleep? I don't wish to turn you +out of your beds." + +"Oh! don't ye keer for us; we kin all bunk together; dun it afore. Like +to turn in now?" + +"Yes, thank you, I would;" and without more ceremony I adjourned to the +further part of the room, and commenced disrobing. Doffing my boots, +waistcoat, and cravat, and placing my watch and purse under the pillow, +I gave a moment's thought to what a certain not very old lady, whom I +had left at home, might say when she heard of my lodging with a +grass-widow and three young girls, and sprang into bed. There I removed +my under-mentionables, which were still too damp to sleep in, and in +about two minutes and thirty seconds sunk into oblivion. + +A few streaks of grayish light were beginning to creep through the +crevices in the logs, when a movement at the foot of the bed awakened +me, and glancing downward I beheld the youngest girl emerging from under +the clothes at my feet. She had slept there, "cross-wise," all night. A +stir in the adjoining bed soon warned me that the other feminines were +preparing to follow her example; so, turning my face to the wall, I +feigned to be sleeping. Their toilet was soon made, when they quietly +left Scip and myself in possession of the premises. + +The darky rose as soon as they were gone, and, coming to me, said: + +"Massa, we'd better be gwine. I'se got your cloes all dry, and you can +rig up and breakfust at de Cunnel's." + +The storm had cleared away, and the sun was struggling to get through +the distant pines, when Scip brought the horse to the door, and we +prepared to start. Turning to the old woman, I said: + +"I feel greatly obliged to you, madam, for the shelter you have given +us, and would like to make you some recompense for your trouble. Please +to tell me what I shall pay you." + +"Wal, stranger, we don't gin'rally take in lodgers, but seein' as how as +thar ar tu on ye, and ye've had a good night on it, I don't keer if ye +pay me tu dollars." + +That struck me as "rather steep" for "common doin's," particularly as we +had furnished the food and "the drinks;" yet, saying nothing, I handed +her a two-dollar bank-note. She took it, and held it up curiously to the +sun for a moment, then handed it back, saying, "I don't know nuthin' +'bout that ar sort o' money; haint you got no silver?" + +I fumbled in my pocket a moment, and found a quarter-eagle, which I gave +her. + +"Haint got nary a fip o' change," she said, as she took it. + +"Oh! never mind the change, madam; I shall want to stop and _look_ at +you when I return," I replied, good-humoredly. + +"Ha! ha! yer a chicken," said the woman, at the same time giving me a +gentle poke in the ribs. Fearing she might, in the exuberance of her joy +at the sight of the money, proceed to some more decided demonstration of +affection, I hastily stepped into the wagon, bade her good-by, and was +off. + +We were still among the pines, which towered gigantically all around us, +but were no longer alone. Every tree was scarified for turpentine, and +the forest was alive with negro men and women gathering the "last +dipping," or clearing away the stumps and underbrush preparatory to the +spring work. It was Christmas week; but, as I afterward learned, the +Colonel's negroes were accustomed to doing "half tasks" at that season, +being paid for their labor as if they were free. They stopped their work +as we rode by, and stared at us with a stupid, half-frightened +curiosity, very much like the look of a cow when a railway train is +passing. It needed but little observation to convince me that their +_status_ was but one step above the level of the brutes. + +As we rode along I said to the driver, "Scip, what did you think of our +lodgings?" + +"Mighty pore, massa. Niggas lib better'n dat." + +"Yes," I replied, "but these folks despise you blacks; they seem to be +both poor and proud." + +"Yas, massa, dey'm pore 'cause dey wont work, and dey'm proud 'cause +dey'r white. Dey wont work 'cause dey see de darky slaves doin' it, and +tink it am beneaf white folks to do as de darkies do. Dis habin' slaves +keeps dis hull country pore." + +"Who told you that?" I asked, astonished at hearing a remark showing so +much reflection from a negro. + +"Nobody, massa; I see it myseff." + +"Are there many of these poor whites around Georgetown?" + +"Not many 'round Georgetown, sar, but great many in de up-country har, +and dey'm all 'like--pore and no account; none ob 'em kin read, and dey +all eat clay." + +"Eat clay!" I said; "what do you mean by that?" + +"Didn't you see, massa, how yaller all dem wimmin war? Dat's 'cause dey +eat clay. De little children begin 'fore dey kin walk, and dey eat it +till dey die; dey chaw it like 'backer. It makes all dar stumacs big, +like as you seed 'em, and spiles dar 'gestion. It'm mighty onhealfy." + +"Can it be possible that human beings do such things! The brutes +wouldn't do that." + +"No, massa, but _dey_ do it; dey'm pore trash. Dat's what de big folks +call 'em, and it am true; dey'm long way lower down dan de darkies." + +By this time we had arrived at the "run." We found the bridge carried +away, as the woman had told us; but its abutments were still standing, +and over these planks had been laid, which afforded a safe crossing for +foot-passengers. To reach these planks, however, it was necessary to +wade into the stream for full fifty yards, the "run" having overflowed +its banks for that distance on either side of the bridge. The water was +evidently receding, but, as we could not well wait, like the man in the +fable, for it all to run by, we alighted, and counselled as to the best +mode of making the passage. + +Scip proposed that he should wade in to the first abutment, ascertain +the depth of the stream, and then, if it was not too deep for the horse +to ford to that point, drive that far, get out, and walk to the end of +the planking, leading the horse, and then again mount the wagon at the +further end of the bridge. We were sure the horse would have to swim in +the middle of the current, and perhaps for a considerable distance +beyond; but, having witnessed his proficiency in aquatic performances, +we had no doubt he would get safely across. + +The darky's plan was decided on, and divesting himself of his trowsers, +he waded into the "run" to take the soundings. + +While he was in the water my attention was attracted to a printed paper, +posted on one of the pines near the roadside. Going up to it, I read as +follows: + + "$250 REWARD. + + "Ran away from the subscriber, on Monday, November 12th, his + mulatto man, SAM. Said boy is stout-built, five feet nine inches + high, 31 years old, weighs 170 lbs., and walks very erect, and with + a quick, rapid gait. The American flag is tattooed on his right arm + above the elbow. There is a knife-cut over the bridge of his nose, + a fresh bullet-wound in his left thigh, and his back bears marks of + a recent whipping. He is supposed to have made his way back to + Dinwiddie County, Va., where he was raised, or to be lurking in the + swamps in this vicinity. + + "The above reward will be paid for his confinement in any jail in + North or South Carolina, or Virginia, or for his delivery to the + subscriber on his plantation at ----. + + "----, December 2, 1860." + +The name signed to this hand-bill was that of the planter I was about to +visit. + +Scip having returned, and reported the stream fordable to the bridge, I +said to him, pointing to the "notice:" + +"Read that, Scip." + +He read it, but made no remark. + +"What does it mean--that fresh bullet wound, and the marks of a recent +whipping?" I asked. + +"It mean, massa, dat de darky hab run away, and ben took; and dat when +dey took him dey shot him, and flogged him arter dat. Now, he hab run +away agin. De Cunnel's mighty hard on his niggas!" + +"Is he? I can scarcely believe that." + +"He am, massa; but he arnt so much to blame, nuther; dey'm awful bad, +most ob 'em--so dey say." + +Our conversation was here interrupted by our reaching the bridge. After +safely "walking the plank," and making our way to the opposite bank, I +resumed it by asking: + +"Why are the Colonel's negroes so particularly bad?" + +"'Cause, you see, massa, de turpentime business hab made great profits +for sum yars now, and de Cunnel hab been gettin' rich bery fass. He put +all his money, jes so fass as he make it, into darkies, so to make more; +for he's got bery big plantation, and need nuffin' but darkies to work +it to make money jess like a gold mine. He goes up to Virginny to buy +niggas; and up dar _now_ dey don't sell none less dey'm bad uns, 'cep +when sum massa die or git pore. Virginny darkies dat cum down har aint +gin'rally ob much account. Dey'm either kinder good-for-nuffin, or dey'm +ugly; and de Cunnel'd ruther hab de ugly dan de no-account niggas." + +"How many negroes has he?" + +"'Bout two hundred, men and wimmin, I b'lieve, massa." + +"It can't be pleasant for his family to remain in such an out-of-the-way +place, with so bad a gang of negroes about them, and no white people +near." + +"No, massa, not in dese times; but de missus and de young lady arnt dar +now." + +"Not there now? The Colonel said nothing to me about that. Are you +sure?" + +"Oh yas, massa; I seed 'em gwo off on de boat to Charles'n most two +weeks ago. Dey don't mean to cum back till tings am more settled; dey'm +'fraid to stay dar." + +"Would it be safe for the Colonel there, if a disturbance broke out +among the slaves." + +"'T wouldn't be safe den anywhar, sar; but de Cunnel am a bery brave +man. He'm better dan twenty of _his_ niggas." + +"Why better than twenty of _his_ niggers?" + +"'Cause dem ugly niggas am gin'rally cowards. De darky dat is quiet, +'spectful, and does his duty, am de brave sort; _dey'll_ fight, massa, +till dey'm cut down." + +We had here reached a turn in the road, and passing it, came suddenly +upon a coach, attached to which were a pair of magnificent grays, driven +by a darky in livery. + +"Hallo, dar!" said Scip to the driver, as we came nearly abreast of the +carriage. "Am you Cunnel J----'s man?" + +"Yas, I is dat," replied the darky. + +At this moment a woolly head, which I recognized at once as that of the +Colonel's man "Jim," was thrust from the window of the vehicle. + +"Hallo, Jim," I said. "How do you do? I'm glad to see you." + +"Lor bress me, Massa K----, am dat you?" exclaimed the astonished negro, +hastily opening the door, and coming to me. "Whar _did_ you cum from? +I'se mighty glad to see you;" at the same time giving my hand a hearty +shaking. I must here say, in justice to the reputation of South +Carolina, that no respectable Carolinian refuses to shake hands with a +black man, unless--the black happens to be free. + +"I thought I wouldn't wait for you," I replied. "But how did you expect +to get on? the 'runs' have swollen into rivers." + +"We got a 'flat' made for dis one--it's down by dis time--de oders we +tought we'd get ober sumhow." + +"Jim, this is Scip," I said, seeing the darkies took no notice of each +other. + +"How d'ye do, Scip_io?_" said Jim, extending his hand to him. A look of +singular intelligence passed over the faces of the two negroes as their +hands met; it vanished in an instant, and was so slight that none but a +close observer would have detected it, but some words that Scip had +previously let drop had put me on the alert, and I felt sure it had a +hidden significance. + +"Wont you get into de carriage, massa?" inquired Jim. + +"No, thank you, Jim. I'll ride on with Scip. Our horse is jaded, and you +had better go ahead." + +Jim mounted the driver's seat, turned the carriage, and drove off at a +brisk pace to announce our coming at the plantation, while Scip and I +rode on at a slower gait. + +"Scip, did you know Jim before?" I asked. + +"Hab seed him afore, massa, but neber know'd him." + +"How is it that you have lived in Georgetown five years, and have not +known him?" + +"I cud hab know'd him, massa, good many time, ef I'd liked, but darkies +hab to be careful." + +"Careful of what?" + +"Careful ob who dey knows; good many bad niggas 'bout." + +"Pshaw, Scip, you're 'coming de possum'; there isn't a better nigger +than Jim in all South Carolina. I know him well." + +"P'raps he am; reckon he _am_ a good 'nuff nigga." + +"Good enough nigga, Scip! Why, I tell you he's a splendid fellow; just +as true as steel. He's been North with the Colonel, often, and the +Abolitionists have tried to get him away; he knew he could go, but +wouldn't budge an inch." + +"I knew he wouldn't," said the darky, a pleasurable gleam passing +through his eyes; "dat sort don't run; dey face de music!" + +"Why don't they run? What do you mean by facing the music?" + +"Nuffin' massa--only dey'd rather stay har." + +"Come, Scip, you've played this game long enough. Tell me, now, what +that look you gave each other when you shook hands meant." + +"What look, massa? Oh! I s'pose 'twar 'cause we'd both _heerd_ ob each +oder afore." + +"'Twas more than that, Scip. Be frank; you know you can trust _me_." + +"Wal, den, massa," he replied hesitatingly, adding, after a short pause, +"de ole woman called you a Yankee, sar--you can guess." + +"If I should guess, 't would be that it meant _mischief_." + +"It don't mean mischief, sar," said the darky, with a tone and air that +would not have disgraced a Cabinet officer; "it mean only RIGHT and +JUSTICE." + +"It means that there is some secret understanding between you." + +"I toled you, massa," he replied, relapsing into his usual manner, "dat +de blacks am all Freemasons. I gabe Jim de grip, and he knowd me. He'd +ha knowd my name ef you hadn't toled him." + +"Why would he have known your name?" + +"'Cause I gabe de grip, dat tole him." + +"Why did he call you Scip_io_? I called you _Scip_." + +"Oh! de darkies all do dat. Nobody but de white folks call me _Scip_. I +can't say no more, massa; I SHUD BREAK DE OATH EF I DID!" + +"You have said enough to satisfy me that there is a secret league among +the blacks, and that you are a leader in it. Now, I tell you, you'll get +yourself into a scrape. I've taken a liking to you, Scip, and I should +be _very sorry_ to see you run yourself into danger." + +"I tank you, massa, from de bottom ob my soul I tank you," he said, as +the tears moistened his eyes. "You bery kind, massa; it do me good to +talk wid you. But what am my life wuth? What am any _slave's_ life wuth? +_Ef you war me you'd do like me!_" + +I could not deny it, and I made no reply. + +The writer is aware that he is here making an important statement, and +one that may be called in question by those persons who are accustomed +to regard the Southern blacks as only reasoning brutes. The great mass +of them _are_ but a little above the brutes in their habits and +instincts, but a large body are fully on a par, except in mere +book-education, with their white masters. + +The conversation above recorded is, _verbatim et literatim_, TRUE. It +took place at the time indicated, and was taken down, as were other +conversations recorded in this book, within twenty-four hours after its +occurrence. The name and the locality, only, I have, for very evident +reasons, disguised. + +From this conversation, together with others, held with the same negro, +and from after developments made to me at various places, and at +different times, extending over a period of six weeks, I became +acquainted with the fact that there exists among the blacks a secret and +wide-spread organization of a Masonic character, having its grip, +pass-word, and oath. It has various grades of leaders, who are +competent and _earnest_ men, and its ultimate object is FREEDOM. It is +quite as secret and wide-spread as the order of the "Knights of the +Golden Circle," the kindred league among the whites. + +This latter organization, which was instituted by John C. Calhoun, +William L. Porcher, and others, as far back as 1835, has for its sole +object the dissolution of the Union, and the establishment of a Southern +Empire--Empire is the word, not Confederacy, or Republic; and it was +solely by means of its secret but powerful machinery that the Southern +States were plunged into revolution, in defiance of the will of a +majority of their voting population. + +Nearly every man of influence at the South (and many a pretended Union +man at the North) is a member of this organization, and sworn, under the +penalty of assassination, to labor "in season and out of season, by fair +means and by foul, at all times, and all occasions," for the +accomplishment of its object. The blacks are bound together by a similar +oath, and only _bide their time_. + +The knowledge of the real state of political affairs which the negroes +have acquired through this organization is astonishingly accurate; their +leaders possess every essential of leadership--except, it may be, +military skill--and they are fully able to cope with the whites. + +The negro whom I call Scipio, on the day when Major Anderson evacuated +Fort Moultrie, and before he or I knew of that event, which set all +South Carolina in a blaze, foretold to me the breaking out of this war +in Charleston harbor, and as confidently predicted that it would result +in the freedom of the slaves! + +The fact of this organization existing is not positively known (for the +black is more subtle and crafty than any thing human), but it is +suspected by many of the whites, the more moderate of whom are disposed +to ward off the impending blow by some system of gradual +emancipation--declaring all black children born after a certain date +free--or by some other action that will pacify and keep down the slaves. +These persons, however, are but a small minority, and possess no +political power, and the South is rushing blindly on to a catastrophe, +which, if not averted by the action of our government, will make the +horrors of San Domingo and the French Revolution grow pale in history. + +I say the action of our government, for with it rests the +responsibility. What the black wants is freedom. Give him that, and he +will have no incentive to insurrection. If emancipation is proclaimed at +the head of our armies--emancipation for _all_--confiscation for the +slaves of rebels, compensation for the slaves of loyal citizens--the +blacks will rush to the aid of our troops, the avenging angel will pass +over the homes of the many true and loyal men who are still left at the +South, and the thunderbolts of this war will fall only--where they +should fall--on the heads of its blood-stained authors. If this is not +done, after we have put down the whites we shall have to meet the +blacks, and after we have waded knee-deep in the blood of both, we +shall end the war where it began, but with the South desolated by fire +and sword, the North impoverished and loaded down with an everlasting +debt, and our once proud, happy, and glorious country the by-word and +scorn of the civilized world. + +Slavery is the very bones, marrow, and life-blood of this rebellion, and +it cannot be crushed till we have destroyed that accursed institution. +If a miserable peace is patched up before a death-stroke is given to +slavery, it will gather new strength, and drive freedom from this +country forever. In the nature of things it cannot exist in the same +hemisphere with liberty. Then let every man who loves his country +determine that if this war must needs last for twenty years, it shall +not end until this root of all our political evils is weeded out +forever. + +A short half-hour took us to the plantation, where I found the Colonel +on the piazza awaiting me. After our greeting was over, noticing my +soiled and rather dilapidated condition, he inquired where I had passed +the night. I told him, when he burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and +for several days good-naturedly bantered me about "putting up" at the +most aristocratic hotel in South Carolina--the "Mills House." + +We soon entered the mansion, and the reader will, I trust, pardon me, if +I leave him standing in its door-way till another chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ON THE PLANTATION. + + +The last chapter left the reader in the door-way of the Colonel's +mansion. Before entering, we will linger there awhile and survey the +outside of the premises. + +The house stands where two roads meet, and, unlike most planters' +dwellings, is located in full view of the highway. It is a rambling, +disjointed structure, thrown together with no regard to architectural +rules, and yet there is a rude harmony in its very irregularities that +has a pleasing effect. The main edifice, with a frontage of nearly +eighty feet, is only one and a half stories high, and is overshadowed by +a broad projecting roof, which somehow, though in a very natural way, +drops down at the eaves, and forms the covering of a piazza, twenty feet +wide, and extending across the entire front of the house. At its +south-easterly angle, the roof is truncated, and made again to form a +covering for the piazza, which there extends along a line of irregular +buildings for sixty yards. A portion of the verandah on this side being +enclosed, forms a bowling-alley and smoking-room, two essential +appendages to a planter's residence. The whole structure is covered with +yellow-pine weather boarding, which in some former age was covered with +paint of a grayish brown color. This, in many places, has peeled off +and allowed the sap to ooze from the pine, leaving every here and there +large blotches on the surface, somewhat resembling the "warts" I have +seen on the trunks of old trees. + +The house is encircled by grand old pines, whose tall, upright stems, +soaring eighty and ninety feet in the air, make the low hamlet seem +lower by the contrast. They have stood there for centuries, their rough, +shaggy coats buttoned close to their chins, and their long green locks +waving in the wind; but the long knife has been thrust into their veins, +and their life-blood is now fast oozing away. + +With the exception of the negro huts, which are scattered at irregular +intervals through the woods in the rear of the mansion, there is not a +human habitation within an hour's ride; but such a cosy, inviting, +hospitable atmosphere surrounds the whole place, that a stranger does +not realize he has happened upon it in a wilderness. + +The interior of the dwelling is in keeping with the exterior, though in +the drawing-rooms, where rich furniture and fine paintings actually +lumber the apartments, there is evident the lack of a nice perception of +the "fitness of things," and over the whole hangs a "dusty air," which +reminds one that the Milesian Bridget does not "flourish" in South +Carolina. + +I was met in the entrance-way by a tall, fine-looking woman, to whom the +Colonel introduced me as follows: + +"Mr. K----, this is Madam P----, my housekeeper; she will try to make +you forget that Mrs. J---- is absent." + +After a few customary courtesies were exchanged, I was shown to a +dressing-room, and with the aid of Jim, a razor, and one of the +Colonel's shirts--all of mine having undergone a drenching--soon made a +tolerably presentable appearance. The negro then conducted me to the +breakfast-room, where I found the family assembled. + +It consisted, besides the housekeeper, of a tall, raw-boned, +sandy-haired personage, with a low brow, a blear eye, and a sneaking +look--the overseer of the plantation; and of a well-mannered, +intelligent lad--with the peculiarly erect carriage and uncommon +blending of good-natured ease and dignity which distinguished my +host--who was introduced to me as the housekeeper's son. + +Madam P----, who presided over the "tea-things," was a person of perhaps +thirty-five, but a rich olive complexion, enlivened by a delicate red +tint, and relieved by thick masses of black hair, made her appear to a +casual observer several years younger. Her face bore vestiges of great +beauty, which time, and, perhaps, care, had mellowed but not +obliterated, and her conversation indicated high cultivation. She had +evidently mingled in refined society in this country and in Europe, and +it was a strange freak of fortune that had reduced her to a menial +condition in the family of a backwoods planter. + +After some general conversation, the Colonel remarked that his wife and +daughter would pass the winter in Charleston. + +"And do _you_ remain on the plantation?" I inquired. + +"Oh yes, I am needed here," he replied; "but Madam's son is with my +family." + +"Madam's son!" I exclaimed in astonishment, forgetting in my surprise +that the lady was present. + +"Yes, sir," she remarked, "my oldest boy is twenty." + +"Excuse me, Madam; I forgot that in your climate one never grows old." + +"There you are wrong, sir; I'm sure I _feel_ old when I think how soon +my boys will be men." + +"Not old yet, Alice," said the Colonel, in a singularly familiar tone; +"you seem to me no older than when you were fifteen." + +"You have been long acquainted," I remarked, not knowing exactly what to +say. + +"Oh, yes," replied my host, "we were children together." + +"Your Southern country, Madam, affords a fine field for young men of +enterprise." + +"My eldest son resides in Germany," replied the lady. "He expects to +make that country his home. He would have passed his examination at +Heidelberg this autumn had not circumstances called him here." + +"You are widely separated," I replied. + +"Yes, sir; his father thinks it best, and I suppose it is. Thomas, +here, is to return with his brother, and I may live to see neither of +them again." + +My curiosity was naturally much excited to learn more, but nothing +further being volunteered, and the conversation soon turning to other +topics, I left the table with it unsatisfied. + +After enjoying a quiet hour with the Colonel in the smoking-room, he +invited me to join him in a ride over the plantation. I gladly assented, +and Jim shortly announced the horses were in waiting. That darky, who +invariably attended his master when the latter proceeded from home, +accompanied us. As we were mounting I bethought me of Scip, and asked +where he was. + +"He'm gwine to gwo, massa, and want to say good-by to you." + +It seemed madness for Scip to start on a journey of seventy miles +without rest, so I requested the Colonel to let him remain till the next +day. He cheerfully assented, and sent Jim to find him. While waiting for +the darky, I spoke of how faithfully he had served me during my journey. + +"He's a splendid nigger," replied the Colonel; "worth his weight in +gold. If affairs were more settled I would buy him." + +"But Colonel A---- tells me he is too intelligent. He objects to +'knowing' niggers." + +"_I_ do not," replied my host, "if they are honest, and I would trust +Scip with uncounted gold. Look at him," he continued, as the negro +approached; "were flesh and bones ever better put together?" + +The darky _was_ a fine specimen of sable humanity, and I readily +understood why the practiced eye of the Colonel appreciated his physical +developments. + +"Scip," I said, "you must not think of going to-day; the Colonel will be +glad to let you remain until you are fully rested." + +"Tank you, massa, tank you bery much, but de ole man will spec' me, and +I orter gwo." + +"Oh, never mind old----," said the Colonel, "I'll take care of him." + +"Tank you, Cunnel, den I'll stay har till de mornin'." + +Taking a by-path which led through the forest in the rear of the +mansion, we soon reached a small stream, and, following its course for a +short distance, came upon a turpentine distillery, which the Colonel +explained to me was one of three that prepared the product of his +plantation for market, and provided for his family of nearly three +hundred souls. + +It was enclosed, or rather roofed, by a rude structure of rough boards, +which was open at the sides, and sustained on a number of pine poles +about thirty feet in height, and bore a strong resemblance to the usual +covering of a New England haystack. + +Three stout negro men, divested of all clothing excepting a pair of +coarse gray trowsers and a red shirt--it was a raw, cold, wintry +day--and with cotton bandannas bound about their heads, were "tending +the still." The foreman stood on a raised platform level with its top, +but as we approached very quietly seated himself on a turpentine barrel +which a moment before he had rolled over the mouth of the boiler. +Another negro was below, feeding the fire with "light wood," and a third +was tending the trough by which the liquid rosin found its way into the +semicircle of rough barrels intended for its reception. + +"Hello, Junius, what in creation are you doing there?" asked the +Colonel, as we approached, of the negro on the turpentine barrel. + +"Holein' her down, Cunnel; de ole ting got a mine to blow up dis +mornin'; I'se got dis barrl up har to hole her down." + +"Why, you everlasting nigger, if the top leaks you'll be blown to +eternity in half a second." + +"Reckon not, massa; be barrl and me kin hole her. We'll take de risk." + +"Perhaps _you_ will," said the Colonel, laughing, "but I wont. Nigger +property isn't of much account, but you're too good a darky, June, to be +sent to the devil for a charge of turpentine." + +"Tank you, massa, but you dun kno' dis ole ting like I do. You cudn't +blow her up nohow; I'se tried her afore dis way." + +"Don't you do it again; now mind; if you do I'll make a white man of +you." (This I suppose referred to a process of flaying with a whip; +though the whip is generally thought to _redden_, not _whiten_, the +negro.) + +The black did not seem at all alarmed, for he showed his ivories in a +broad grin as he replied, "Jess as you say, massa; you'se de boss in dis +shanty." + +Directing the fire to be raked out, and the still to stand unused until +it was repaired, the Colonel turned his horse to go, when he observed +that the third negro was shoeless, and his feet chapped and swollen with +the cold. "Jake," he said, "where are your shoes?" + +"Wored out, massa." + +"Worn out! Why haven't you been to me?" + +"'Cause, massa, I know'd you'd jaw; you tole me I wears 'em out mighty +fass." + +"Well, you do, that's a fact; but go to Madam and get a pair; and you, +June, you've been a decent nigger, you can ask for a dress for Rosy. How +is little June?" + +"Mighty pore, massa; de ma'am war dar lass night and dis mornin', and +she reckun he'm gwine to gwo, sartain." + +"Sorry to hear that," said the Colonel. "I'll go and see him. Don't feel +badly, June," he continued, for the tears welled up to the eyes of the +black man as he spoke of his child; "we all must die." + +"I knows dat, massa, but it am hard to hab 'em gwo." + +"Yes, it is, June, but we may save him." + +"Ef you cud, massa! Oh, ef you cud!" and the poor darky covered his face +with his great hands and sobbed like a child. + +We rode on to another "still," and there dismounting, the Colonel +explained to me the process of gathering and manufacturing turpentine. +The trees are "boxed" and "tapped" early in the year, while the frost is +still in the ground. "Boxing" is the process of scooping a cavity in the +trunk of the tree by means of a peculiarly shaped axe, made for the +purpose; "tapping" is scarifying the rind of the wood above the boxes. +This is never done until the trees have been worked one season, but it +is then repeated year after year, till on many plantations they present +the marks of twenty and frequently thirty annual "tappings," and are +often denuded of bark for a distance of thirty feet from the ground. The +necessity for this annual tapping arises from the fact that the scar on +the trunk heals at the end of a season, and the sap will no longer run +from it; a fresh wound is therefore made each spring. The sap flows down +the scarified surface and collects in the boxes, which are emptied six +or eight times in a year, according to the length of the season. This is +the process of "dipping," and it is done with a tin or iron vessel +constructed to fit the cavity in the tree. + +The turpentine gathered from the newly boxed or virgin tree is very +valuable, on account of its producing a peculiarly clear and white +rosin, which is used in the manufacture of the finer kinds of soap, and +by "Rosin the Bow." It commands, ordinarily, nearly five times the price +of the common article. When barrelled, the turpentine is frequently sent +to market in its crude state, but more often is distilled on the +plantation, the gatherers generally possessing means sufficient to own +a still. + +In the process of distilling, the crude turpentine is "dumped" into the +boiler through an opening in the top--the same as that on which we saw +Junius composedly seated--water is then poured upon it, the aperture +made tight by screwing down the cover and packing it with clay, a fire +built underneath, and when the heat reaches several hundred degrees +Fahrenheit, the process of manufacture begins. The volatile and more +valuable part of the turpentine, by the action of the heat, rises as +vapor, then condensing flows off through a pipe in the top of the still, +and comes out spirits of turpentine, while the heavier portion finds +vent at a lower aperture, and comes out rosin. + +No article of commerce is so liable to waste and leakage as turpentine. +The spirits can only be preserved in tin cans, or in thoroughly seasoned +oak barrels, made tight by a coating of glue on the inner side. Though +the material for these barrels exists at the South in luxuriant +abundance, they are all procured from the North, and the closing of the +Southern ports has now entirely cut off the supply; for while the +turpentine farmer may improvise coopers, he can by no process give the +oak timber the seasoning which is needed to render the barrel +spirit-tight. Hence it is certain that a large portion of the last crop +of turpentine must have gone to waste. When it is remembered that the +one State of North Carolina exports annually nearly twenty millions in +value of this product, and employs fully two-thirds of its negroes in +its production, it will be seen how dearly the South is paying for the +mad freak of secession. Putting out of view his actual loss of produce, +how does the turpentine farmer feed and employ his negroes? and pressed +as these blacks inevitably are by both hunger and idleness, those +prolific breeders of sedition, what will keep them quiet? + +"What effect will secession have on your business?" I asked the Colonel, +after a while. + +"A favorable one. I shall ship my crop direct to Liverpool and London, +instead of selling it to New York middle-men." + +"But is not the larger portion of the turpentine crop consumed at the +North?" + +"Oh, yes. We shall have to deal with the Yankees anyhow, but we shall do +as little with them as possible." + +"Suppose the Yankees object to your setting up by yourselves, and put +your ports under lock and key?" + +"They wont do that, and if they do, England will break the blockade." + +"We may rap John Bull over the knuckles in that event," I replied. + +"Well, suppose you do; what then?" + +"Merely, England would not have a ship in six months to carry your +cotton. A war with her would ruin the shipping trade of the North. Our +marine would seek employment at privateering, and soon sweep every +British merchant ship from the ocean. We could afford to give up ten +years' trade with you, and to put secession down by force, for the sake +of a year's brush with John Bull." + +"But, my good friend, where would the British navy be all this while?" + +"Asleep. The English haven't a steamer that can catch a Brookhaven +schooner. The last war proved that government vessels are no match for +privateers." + +"Well, well! but the Yankees wont fight." + +"Suppose they do. Suppose they shut up your ports, and leave you with +your cotton and turpentine unsold? You raise scarcely any thing +else--what would you eat?" + +"We would turn our cotton fields into corn and wheat. Turpentine-makers, +of course, would suffer." + +"Then why are not _you_ a Union man?" + +"My friend, I have nearly three hundred mouths to feed. I depend on the +sale of my crop to give them food. If our ports are closed, I cannot do +it--they will starve, and I be ruined. But sooner than submit to the +domination of the cursed Yankees, I will see my negroes starving, and my +child a beggar!" + +At this point in the conversation we arrived at the negro shanty where +the sick child was. Dismounting, the Colonel and I entered. + +The cabin was almost a counterpart of the "Mills House," described in +the previous chapter, but it had a plank flooring, and was scrupulously +neat and clean. The logs were stripped of bark, and whitewashed. A +bright, cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth, and an air of rude +comfort pervaded the whole interior. On a low bed in the farther corner +of the room lay the sick child. He was a boy of about twelve years, and +evidently in the last stages of consumption. By his side, bending over +him as if to catch his almost inaudible words, sat a tidy, +youthful-looking colored woman, his mother, and the wife of the negro we +had met at the "still." Playing on the floor, was a younger child, +perhaps five years old, but while the faces of the mother and the sick +lad were of the hue of charcoal, _his_ skin by a process well understood +at the South, had been bleached to a bright yellow. + +The woman took no notice of our entrance, but the little fellow ran to +the Colonel and caught hold of the skirts of his coat in a free-and-easy +way, saying, "Ole massa, you got suffin' for Dicky?" + +"No, you little nig," replied the Colonel, patting his woolly head as I +might have done a white child's, "Dicky isn't a good boy." + +"Yas, I is," said the little darky; "you'se ugly ole massa to gib +nuffin' to Dick." + +Aroused by the Colonel's voice, the woman turned toward us. Her eyes +were swollen, and her face bore traces of deep emotion. + +"Oh massa!" she said, "de chile am dyin'! It'm all along ob his workin' +in de swamp--no _man_ orter work dar, let alone a chile like dis." + +"Do you think he is dying, Rosy?" asked the Colonel, approaching the +bed-side. + +"Shore, massa, he'm gwine fass. Look at 'im." + +The boy had dwindled to a skeleton, and the skin lay on his face in +crimpled folds, like a mask of black crape. His eyes were fixed, and he +was evidently going. + +"Don't you know massa, my boy?" said the Colonel, taking his hand +tenderly in his. + +The child's lips slightly moved, but I could hear no sound. The Colonel +put his ear down to him for a moment, then, turning to me, said: + +"He _is_ dying. Will you be so good as to step to the house and ask +Madam P---- here, and please tell Jim to go for Junius and the old man." + +I returned in a short while with the lady, but found the boy's father +and "the old man"--the darky preacher of the plantation--there before +us. The preacher was a venerable old negro, much bowed by years, and +with thin wool as white as snow. When we entered, he was bending over +the dying boy, but shortly turning to my host, said: + +"Massa, de blessed Lord am callin' for de chile--shall we pray?" + +The Colonel nodded assent, and we all, blacks and whites, knelt down on +the floor, while the old preacher made a short, heart-touching prayer. +It was a simple, humble acknowledgment of the dependence of the creature +on the Creator--of His right to give and to take away, and was uttered +in a free, conversational tone, as if long communion with his Maker had +placed the old negro on a footing of friendly familiarity with Him, and +given the black slave the right to talk with the Deity as one man talks +with another. + +As we rose from our knees my host said to me, "It is _my_ duty to stay +here, but I will not detain _you_. Jim will show you over the +plantation. I will join you at the house when this is over." The scene +was a painful one, and I gladly availed myself of the Colonel's +suggestion. + +Mounting our horses, Jim and I rode off to the negro house where Scip +was staying. + +Scip was not at the cabin, and the old negro woman told us he had been +away for several hours. + +"Reckon he'll be 'way all day, sar," said Jim, as we turned our horses +to go. + +"He ought to be resting against the ride of to-morrow. Where has he +gone?" + +"Dunno, sar, but reckon he'm gwine to fine Sam." + +"Sam? Oh, he's the runaway the Colonel has advertised." + +"Yas, sar, he'm 'way now more'n a monfh." + +"How can Scip find him?" + +"Dunno, sar. Scipio know most ebery ting--reckon he'll track him. He +know him well, and Sam'll cum back ef he say he orter." + +"Where do you think Sam is?" + +"P'raps in de swamp." + +"Where is the swamp?" + +"'Bout ten mile from har." + +"Oh, yes! the shingles are cut there. I should think a runaway would be +discovered where so many men are at work." + +"No, massa, dar'm places dar whar de ole debble cudn't fine him, nor de +dogs nudder." + +"I thought the bloodhounds would track a man anywhere." + +"Not fru de water, massa; dey lose de scent in de swamp." + +"But how can a man live there--how get food?" + +"De darkies dat work dar take 'em nuff." + +"Then the other negroes know where the runaways are; don't they +sometimes betray them?" + +"Neber, massa; a darky neber tells on anoder. De Cunnel had a boy in dat +swamp once good many years." + +"Is it possible! Did he come back?" + +"No, he died dar. Sum ob de hands found him dead one mornin' in de hut +whar he lib'd, and buried him dar." + +"Why did Sam run away?" + +"'Cause de oberseer flog him. He use him bery hard, massa." + +"What had Sam done?" + +"Nuffin, massa." + +"Then why was he flogged? Did the Colonel know it?" + +"Oh, yas; Moye cum de possum ober de Cunnel, and make him b'lieve Sam +war bad. De Cunnel dunno de hull ob dat story." + +"Why didn't _you_, tell him? The Colonel trusts _you_." + +"'T wudn't hab dun no good; de Cunnel wud hab flogged me for tellin' on +a wite man. Nigga's word aint ob no account." + +"What is the story about, Sam?" + +"You wont tell dat _I_ tole you, massa?" + +"No, but I'll tell the Colonel the truth." + +"Wal den, sar, you see Sam's wife am bery good-lookin', her skin's most +wite--her mudder war a mulatter, her fader a wite man--she lub'd Sam +'bout as well as de wimmin ginrally lub dar husbands" (Jim was a +bachelor, and his observation of plantation morals had given him but +little faith in the sex), "but most ob 'em, ef dey'm married or no, tink +dey must smile on de wite men, so Jule she smiled on de oberseer--so Sam +tought--and it made him bery jealous. He war sort o' sassy, and de +oberseer strung him up, and flog him bery hard. Den Sam took to de +swamp, but he didn't know whar to gwo, and de dogs tracked him; he'd ha' +got 'way dough ef ole Moye hadn't a shot him; den he cudn't run. Den +Moye flogged him till he war 'most dead, and arter dat chained him down +in de ole cabin, and gave him 'most nuffin' to eat. De Cunnel war gwine +to take Sam to Charles'on and sell him, but somehow he got a file and +sawed fru de chain and got 'way in de night to de 'still.' Den when de +oberseer come dar in de mornin', Sam jump on him and 'most kill him. +He'd hab sent him whar dar aint no niggas, ef Junius hadn't a holed him. +_I'd_ a let de ole debble gwo." + +"Junius, then, is a friend of the overseer." + +"No, sar; _he_ haint no friends, 'cep de debble; but June am a good +nigga, and he said 'twarn't right to kill ole Moye so sudden, for den +dar'd be no chance for de Lord to forgib him." + +"Then Sam got away again?" + +"Oh yas; nary one but darkies war round, and dey wouldn't hole him. Ef +dey'd cotched him den, dey'd hung him, shore." + +"Why hung him?" + +"'Cause he'd struck a wite man; it'm shore death to do dat." + +"Do you think Scip will bring him back?" + +"Yas; 'cause he'm gwine to tell massa de hull story. De Cunnel will +b'lieve Scipio ef he _am_ brack. Sam'll know dat, so he'll come back. De +Cunnel'll make de State too hot to hole ole Moye, when he fine him out." + +"Does Sam's wife 'smile' on the overseer now?" + +"No; she see de trubble she bring on Sam, and she bery sorry. She wont +look at a wite man now." + +During the foregoing conversation, we had ridden for several miles over +the western half of the plantation, and were again near the house. My +limbs being decidedly stiff and sore from the effect of the previous +day's journey, I decided to alight and rest until the hour for dinner. + +I mentioned my jaded condition to Jim, who said: + +"Dat's right, massa; come in de house. I'll cure de rumatics; I knows +how to fix dem." + +Fastening the horses at the door, Jim accompanied me to my +sleeping-room, where he lighted a fire of pine knots, which in a moment +blazed up on the hearth and sent a cheerful glow through the apartment; +then, saying he would return after stabling the horses, the darky left +me. + +I took off my boots, drew the sofa near the fire, and stretched myself +at full length upon it. If ever mortal was tired, "I reckon" I was. It +seemed as though every joint and bone in my body had lost the power of +motion, and sharp, acute pains danced along my nerves, as I have seen +the lightning play along the telegraph wires. My entire system had the +toothache. + +Jim soon returned, bearing in one hand a decanter of "Otard," and in the +other a mug of hot water and a crash towel. + +"I'se got de stuff dat'll fix de rumatics, massa." + +"Thank you, Jim; a glass will do me good. Where did you get it?" I +asked, thinking it strange the Colonel should leave his brandy-bottle +within reach of the negroes, who have an universal weakness for spirits. + +"Oh, I keeps de keys; de Cunnel hissef hab to come to me when he want +suffin' to warm hissef." + +It was the fact; Jim had exclusive charge of the wine-cellar; in short, +was butler, barber, porter, footman, and body-servant, all combined. + +"Now, massa, you lay right whar you is, and I'll make you ober new in +less dan no time." + +And he did; but I emptied the brandy-bottle. Lest my temperance friends +should be horror-stricken, I will mention, however, that I took the +fluid by external absorption. For all rheumatic sufferers, I would +prescribe hot brandy, in plentiful doses, a coarse towel, and an active +Southern darky, and if on the first application the patient is not +cured, the fault will not be the negro's. Out of mercy to the chivalry, +I hope our government, in saving the Union, will not annihilate the +order of body-servants. They are the only perfect institution in the +Southern country, and, so far as I have seen, about the only one worth +saving. + +The dinner-bell sounded a short while after Jim had finished the +scrubbing operation, and I went to the table with an appetite I had not +felt for a week. My whole system was rejuvenated, and I am not sure that +I should, at that moment, have declined a wrestling match with Heenan +himself. + +I found at dinner only the overseer and the young son of Madam P----, +the Colonel and the lady being still at the cabin of the dying boy. The +dinner, though a queer mixture of viands, would not have disgraced, +except, perhaps, in the cooking, the best of our Northern hotels. +Venison, bacon, wild fowl, hominy, poultry, corn bread, French +"made-dishes," and Southern "common doin's," with wines and brandies of +the choicest brands, were placed on the table together. + +"Dis, massa," said Jim, "am de raal juice; it hab been in de cellar eber +since de house war built. Massa tole me to gib you some, wid him +complimen's." + +Passing it to my companions, I drank the Colonel's health in as fine +wine as I ever tasted. + +I had taken an instinctive dislike to the overseer at the +breakfast-table, and my aversion was not lessened by learning his +treatment of Sam; curiosity to know what manner of man he was, however, +led me, toward the close of our meal, to "draw him out," as follows: + +"What is the political sentiment, sir, of this section of the State?" + +"Wal, I reckon most of the folks 'bout har' is Union; they'm from the +'old North,' and gin'rally pore trash." + +"I have heard that the majority of the turpentine-farmers are +enterprising men and good citizens--more enterprising, even, than the +cotton and rice planters." + +"Wal, they is enterprisin', 'cause they don't keer for nuthin' 'cep' +money." + +"The man who is absorbed in money-getting is generally a quiet citizen." + +"P'raps that's so. But I think a man sh'u'd hev a soul suthin' 'bove +dollars. Them folks will take any sort o' sarce from the Yankees, ef +they'll only buy thar truck." + +"What do you suffer from the Yankees?" + +"Suffer from the Yankees? Don't they steal our niggers, and haint they +'lected an ab'lishener for President?" + +"I've been at the North lately, but I am not aware that is so." + +"So! it's damnably so, sir. I knows it. We don't mean to stand it eny +longer." + +"What will you do?" + +"We'll give 'em h--l, ef they want it!" + +"Will it not be necessary to agree among yourselves before you do that? +I met a turpentine farmer below here who openly declared that he is +friendly to abolishing slavery. He thinks the masters can make more +money by hiring than by owning the negroes." + +"Yes, that's the talk of them North County[D] fellers, who've squatted +round har. We'll hang every mother's son on 'em, by ----." + +"I wouldn't do that: in a free country every man has a right to his +opinions." + +"Not to sech opinions as them. A man may think, but he mustn't think +onraasonable." + +"I don't know, but it seems to me reasonable, that if the negroes cost +these farmers now one hundred and fifty dollars a year, and they could +hire them, if free, for seventy-five or a hundred, that they would make +by abolition." + +"Ab'lish'n! By--, sir, ye aint an ab'lishener, is ye?" exclaimed the +fellow, in an excited manner, bringing his hand down on the table in a +way that set the crockery a-dancing. + +"Come, come, my friend," I replied, in a mild tone, and as unruffled as +a pool of water that has been out of a December night; "you'll knock off +the dinner things, and I'm not quite through." + +"Wal, sir, I've heerd yer from the North, and I'd like to know if yer an +ab'lishener." + +"My dear sir, you surprise me. You certainly can't expect a modest man +like me to speak of himself." + +"Ye can speak of what ye d-- please, but ye can't talk ab'lish'n har, +by--," he said, again applying his hand to the table, till the plates +and saucers jumped up, performed several jigs, then several reels, and +then rolled over in graceful somersaults to the floor. + +At this juncture, the Colonel and Madam P---- entered. + +Observing the fall in his crockery, and the general confusion of things, +my host quietly asked, "What's to pay?" + +I said nothing, but burst into a fit of laughter at the awkward +predicament of the overseer. That gentleman also said nothing, but +looked as if he would like to find vent through a rat-hole or a +window-pane. Jim, however, who stood at the back of my chair, gave _his_ +eloquent thoughts utterance, very much as follows: + +"Moye hab 'sulted Massa K----, Cunnel, awful bad. He hab swore a blue +streak at him, and called him a d-- ab'lishener, jess 'cause Massa K---- +wudn't get mad and sass him back. He hab disgrace your hosspital, +Cunnel, wuss dan a nigga." + +The Colonel turned white with rage, and striding up to Moye, seized him +by the throat, yelling, rather than speaking, these words: "You +d---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----, have you dared to insult a guest in +my house?" + +"I did'nt mean to 'sult him," faltered out the overseer, his voice +running through an entire octave, and changing with the varying pressure +of the Colonel's fingers on his throat; "but he said he war an +ab'lishener." + +"No matter what he said, he is my guest, and in my house he shall say +what he pleases, by--. Apologize to him, or I'll send you to h--in a +second." + +The fellow turned cringingly to me, and ground out something like this, +every word seeming to give him the face-ache: + +"I meant no offence, sar; I hope ye'll excuse me." + +This satisfied me, but, before I could reply, the Colonel again seized +him by the throat and yelled: + +"None of your sulkiness; you d-- white-livered hound, ask the gentleman's +pardon like a man." + +The fellow then got out, with less effort than before: + +"I 'umbly ax yer pardon, sar, very 'umbly, indeed." + +"I am satisfied, sir," I replied. "I bear you no ill-will." + +"Now go," said the Colonel; "and in future take your meals in your +cabin. I have none but gentlemen at my table." + +The fellow went. As soon as he closed the door, the Colonel said to me: + +"Now, my dear friend, I hope you will pardon _me_ for this occurrence. I +sincerely regret you have been insulted in my house." + +"Don't speak of it, my dear sir; the fellow is ignorant, and really +thinks I am an abolitionist. His zeal in politics led to his warmth. I +blame him very little," I replied. + +"But he lied, Massa K----," chimed in Jim, very warmly; "you neber said +you war an ab'lishener." + +"You know what _they_ are, Jim, don't you?" said the Colonel, laughing, +and taking no notice of his breach of decorum in wedging black ideas +into a white conversation. + +"Yas, I does dat," said the darky, grinning. + +"Jim," said his master, "you're a prince of a nigger, but you talk too +much; ask me for something to-day, and I reckon you'll get it; but go +now, and tell Chloe (the cook) to get us some dinner." + +The negro left, and, excusing myself, I soon followed suit. + +I went to my room, laid down on the lounge, and soon fell asleep. It was +nearly five o'clock when a slight noise in the apartment awoke me, and, +looking up, I saw the Colonel quietly seated by the fire, smoking a +cigar. His feet were elevated above his head, and he appeared absorbed +in no very pleasant reflections. + +"How is the sick boy, Colonel?" I asked. + +"It's all over with him, my friend. He died easy; but 'twas very painful +to me; I feel I have done him wrong." + +"How so?" + +"I was away all summer, and that cursed Moye sent him to the swamp to +tote for the shinglers. It killed him." + +"Then you are not to blame," I replied. + +"I wish I could feel so." + +The Colonel remained with me till supper-time, evidently much depressed +by the events of the morning, which had affected him more than I should +have thought possible. I endeavored, by directing his mind to other +topics, to cheer him, and in a measure succeeded. + +While we were seated at the supper table, the black cook entered from +the kitchen--a one-story shanty, detached from, and in the rear of the +house--and, with a face expressive of every conceivable emotion a negro +can feel--joy, sorrow, wonder, and fear all combined--exclaimed, "O +massa, massa! dear massa! Sam, O Sam!" + +"Sam!" said the Colonel; "what about Sam?" + +"Why, he hab--dear, dear massa, don't yer, don't yer hurt him--he hab +come back!" + +If a bombshell had fallen in the room, a greater sensation could not +have been produced. Every individual arose from the table, and the +Colonel, striding up and down the apartment, exclaimed: + +"Is he mad? The everlasting fool! Why in h--has he come back?" + +"Oh, don't ye hurt him massa," said the black cook, wringing her hands. +"Sam hab been bad, bery bad, but he won't be so no more." + +"Stop your noise, aunty," said the Colonel, but with no harshness in his +tone. "I shall do what I think right." + +"Send for him, David," said Madame P----; "let us hear what he has to +say. He would not come back if he meant to be ugly." + +"_Send_ for him, Alice!" replied my host. "He's prouder than Lucifer, +and would send me word to come to _him_. I will go. Will you accompany +me, Mr. K----? You'll hear what a runaway nigger thinks of slavery: Sam +has the gift of speech, and uses it regardless of persons." + +"Yes, sir, I'll go with pleasure." + +It was about an hour after nightfall when we emerged from the door of +the mansion and took our way to the negro quarters. The full moon had +risen half way above the horizon, and the dark pines cast their shadows +around the little collection of negro huts, which straggled about +through the woods for the distance of a third of a mile. It was dark, +but I could distinguish the figure of a man striding along at a rapid +pace a few hundred yards in advance of us. + +"Is'nt that Moye?" I asked the Colonel, directing his attention to the +receding figure. + +"I reckon so; that's his gait. He's had a lesson to-day that'll do him +good." + +"I don't like that man's looks," I replied, carelessly; "but I've heard +of singed cats." + +"He _is_ a sneaking d--l," said the Colonel; "but he's very valuable to +me. I never had an overseer who got so much work out of the hands." + +"Is he severe with them?" + +"Well, I reckon he is; but a nigger is like a dog--you must flog him to +make him like you." + +"I judge your niggers haven't been flogged into liking Moye." + +"Why, have you heard any of them speak of him?" + +"Yes; though, of course, I've made no effort to draw gossip from them. I +had to hear." + +"O yes; I know; there's no end to their gabble; niggers will talk. But +what have you heard?" + +"That Moye is to blame in this affair of Sam, and that you don't know +the whole story." + +"What _is_ the whole story?" he asked, stopping short in the road; "tell +me before I see Sam." + +I then told him what Jim had recounted to me. He heard me through +attentively, then laughingly exclaimed: + +"Is that all! Lord bless you, he didn't seduce her. There's no seducing +these women; with them it's a thing of course. It was Sam's d-- high +blood that made the trouble. His father was the proudest man in +Virginia, and Sam is as like him as a nigger can be like a white man." + +"No matter what the blood is, it seems to me such an injury justifies +revenge." + +"Pshaw, my good fellow, you don't know these people. I'll stake my +plantation against a glass of whiskey there's not a virtuous woman with +a drop of black blood in her veins in all South Carolina. They prefer +the white men; their husbands know it, and take it as a matter of +course." + +We had here reached the negro cabin. It was one of the more remote of +the collection, and stood deep in the woods, an enormous pine growing up +directly beside the doorway. In all respects it was like the other huts +on the plantation. A bright fire lit up its interior, and through the +crevices in the logs we saw, as we approached, a scene that made us +pause involuntarily, when within a few rods of the house. The mulatto +man, whose clothes were torn and smeared with swamp mud, stood near the +fire. On a small pine table near him lay a large carving-knife, which +glittered in the blaze, as if recently sharpened. His wife was seated on +the side of the low bed at his back, weeping. She was two or three +shades lighter than the man, and had the peculiar brown, kinky hair, +straight, flat nose, and speckled, gray eyes which mark the metif. +Tottling on the floor at the feet of the man, and caressing his knees, +was a child of perhaps two years. + +As we neared the house, we heard the voice of the overseer issuing from +the doorway on the other side of the pine-tree. + +"Come out, ye black rascal." + +"Come in, you wite hound, ef you dar," responded the negro, laying his +hand on the carving-knife. + +"Come out, I till ye; I sha'n't ax ye agin." + +"I'll hab nuffin' to do wid you. G'way and send your massa har," replied +the mulatto man, turning his face away with a lordly, contemptuous +gesture, that spoke him a true descendant of Pocahontas. This movement +exposed his left side to the doorway, outside of which, hidden from us +by the tree, stood the overseer. + +"Come away, Moye," said the Colonel, advancing with me toward the door; +"_I'll_ speak to him." + +Before all of the words had escaped the Colonel's lips, a streak of fire +flashed from where the overseer stood, and took the direction of the +negro. One long, wild shriek--one quick, convulsive bound in the +air--and Sam fell lifeless to the floor, the dark life-stream pouring +from his side. The little child also fell with him, and its greasy, +grayish shirt was dyed with its father's blood. Moye, at the distance of +ten feet, had discharged the two barrels of a heavily-loaded shot-gun +directly through the negro's heart. + +"You incarnate son of h--," yelled the Colonel, as he sprang on the +overseer, bore him to the ground, and wrenched the shot-gun from his +hand. Clubbing the weapon, he raised it to brain him. The movement +occupied but a second; the gun was descending, and in another instant +Moye would have met Sam in eternity, had not a brawny arm caught the +Colonel's, and, winding itself around his body, pinned his limbs to his +side so that motion was impossible. The woman, half frantic with +excitement, thrust open the door when her husband fell, and the light +which came through it revealed the face of the new-comer. But his voice, +which rang out on the night air as clear as a bugle, had there been no +light, would have betrayed him. It was Scip. Spurning the prostrate +overseer with his foot, he shouted: + +"Run, you wite debble, run for your life!" + +"Let me go, you black scoundrel," shrieked the Colonel, wild with rage. + +"When he'm out ob reach, you'd kill him," replied the negro, as cool as +if he was doing an ordinary thing. + +"I'll kill you, you black--hound, if you don't let me go," again +screamed the Colonel, struggling violently in the negro's grasp, and +literally foaming at the mouth. + +"I shan't lef you gwo, Cunnel, till you 'gree not to do dat." + +The Colonel was a stout, athletic man, in the very prime of life, and +his rage gave him more than his ordinary strength, but Scip held him as +I might have held a child. + +"Here, Jim," shouted the Colonel to his body-servant, who just then +emerged from among the trees, "'rouse the plantation--shoot this +d-- nigger." + +"Dar aint one on 'em wud touch him, massa. He'd send _me_ to de debble +wid one fist." + +"You ungrateful dog," groaned his master. "Mr. K----, will you stand by +and see me handcuffed by a miserable slave?" + +"The black means well, my friend; he has saved you from murder. Say he +is safe, and I'll answer for his being away in an hour." + +The Colonel made one more ineffectual attempt to free himself from the +vice-like grip of the negro, then relaxing his efforts, and, gathering +his broken breath, he said, "You're safe _now_, but if you're found +within ten miles of my plantation by sunrise, by--you're a dead man." + +The negro relinquished his hold, and, without saying a word, walked +slowly away. + +"Jim, you--rascal," said the Colonel to that courageous darky, who was +skulking off, "raise every nigger on the plantation, catch Moye, or I'll +flog you within an inch of your life." + +"I'll do dat, Cunnel; I'll kotch de ole debble, ef he's dis side de hot +place." + +His words were echoed by about twenty other darkies, who, attracted by +the noise of the fracas, had gathered within a safe distance of the +cabin. They went off with Jim, to raise the other plantation hands, and +inaugurate the hunt. + +"If that -- nigger hadn't held me, I'd had Moye in -- by this time," said +the Colonel to me, still livid with excitement. + +"The law will deal with him, my friend. The negro has saved you from +murder." + +"The law be d--; it's too good for such a--hound; and that the d-- nigger +should have dared to hold me--by--he'll rue it." + +He then turned, exhausted with the recent struggle, and, with a weak, +uncertain step, entered the cabin. Kneeling down by the dead body of the +negro, he attempted to raise it; but his strength was gone. He motioned +to me to aid him, and we placed the corpse on the bed. Tearing open the +clothing, we wiped away the still flowing blood, and saw the terrible +wound which had sent the negro to his account. It was sickening to look +on, and I turned to go. + +The negro woman, who was weeping and wringing her hands, now approached, +and, in a voice nearly choked with sobs, said: + +"Massa, oh massa, I done it! it's me dat killed him!" + +"I know you did, you d----. Get out of my sight." + +"Oh, massa," sobbed the woman, falling on her knees, "I'se so sorry; oh, +forgib me!" + +"Go to ----, you ----, that's the place for you," said the Colonel, striking +the kneeling woman with his foot, and felling her to the floor. + +Unwilling to see or hear more, I left the master with the slave. + +[Footnote D: The "North Counties" are the north-eastern portion of North +Carolina, and include the towns of Washington and Newbern. They are an +old turpentine region, and the trees are nearly exhausted. The finer +virgin forests of South Carolina, and other cotton States, have tempted +many of the North County farmers to emigrate thither, within the past +ten years, and they now own nearly all the trees that are worked in +South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. They generally have few slaves of +their own, their hands being hired of wealthier men in their native +districts. The "hiring" is an annual operation, and is done at Christmas +time, when the negroes are frequently allowed to go home. They treat the +slaves well, give them an allowance of meat (salt pork or beef), as much +corn as they can eat, and a gill of whiskey daily. No class of men at +the South are so industrious, energetic, and enterprising. Though not so +well informed, they have many of the traits of our New England farmers; +in fact, are frequently called "North Carolina Yankees." It was these +people the overseer proposed to hang. The reader will doubtless think +that "hanging was not good enough for them."] + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE PLANTER'S "FAMILY." + + +A quarter of a mile through the woods brought me to the cabin of the old +negress where Scip lodged. I rapped at the door, and was admitted by the +old woman. Scip, nearly asleep, was lying on a pile of blankets in the +corner. + +"Are you mad?" I said to him. "The Colonel is frantic with rage, and +swears he will kill you. You must be off at once." + +"No, no, massa; neber fear; I knows him. He'd keep his word, ef he loss +his life by it. I'm gwine afore sunrise; till den I'm safe." + +"Der ye tink Massa Davy wud broke his word, sar?" said the old negress, +bridling up her bent form, and speaking in a tone in which indignation +mingled with wounded dignity; "p'raps gemmen do dat at de Norf--dey +neber does it har." + +"Excuse me, Aunty; I know your master is a man of honor; but he's very +much excited, and very angry with Scip." + +"No matter for dat, sar; Massa Davy neber done a mean ting sense he war +born." + +"Massa K---- tinks a heap ob de Cunnel, Aunty; but he reckon he'm sort +o' crazy now; dat make him afeard," said Scip, in an apologetic tone. + +"What ef he am crazy? You'se safe _har_," rejoined the old woman, +dropping her aged limbs into a chair, and rocking away with much the air +which ancient white ladies occasionally assume. + +"Wont you ax Massa K---- to a cheer?" said Scip; "he hab ben bery kine +to me." + +The negress then offered me a seat; but it was some minutes before I +rendered myself sufficiently agreeable to thaw out the icy dignity of +her manner. Meanwhile I glanced around the apartment. + +Though the exterior of the cabin was like the others on the plantation, +the interior had a rude, grotesque elegance about it far in advance of +any negro hut I had ever seen. The logs were chinked with clay, and the +one window, though destitute of glass, and ornamented with the +inevitable board-shutter, had a green moreen curtain, which kept out the +wind and the rain. A worn but neat and well swept carpet partly covered +the floor, and on the low bed was spread a patch-work counter-pane. +Against the side of the room opposite the door stood an antique, +brass-handled bureau, and an old-fashioned table, covered with a faded +woollen cloth, occupied the centre of the apartment. In the corner near +the fire was a curiously-contrived sideboard, made of narrow strips of +yellow pine, tongued and grooved together, and oiled so as to bring out +the beautiful grain of the wood. On it were several broken and cracked +glasses, and an array of irregular crockery. The rocking chair, in which +the old negress passed the most of her time, was of mahogany, wadded and +covered with chintz, and the arm-seat I occupied, though old and patched +in many places, had evidently moved in good society. + +The mistress of this second-hand furniture establishment was arrayed in +a mass of cast-off finery, whose gay colors were in striking contrast +with her jet-black skin and bent, decrepit form. Her gown, which was +very short, was of flaming red and yellow worsted stuff, and the +enormous turban that graced her head and hid all but a few tufts of her +frizzled, "pepper-and-salt" locks, was evidently a contribution from the +family stock of worn-out pillow-cases. She was very aged--upward of +seventy--and so thin that, had she not been endowed with speech and +motion, she might have passed for a bundle of whalebone thrown into +human shape, and covered with a coating of gutta-percha. It was evident +she had been a valued house-servant, whose few remaining years were +being soothed and solaced by the kind and indulgent care of a grateful +master. + +Scip, I soon saw, was a favorite with the old negress, and the marked +respect he showed me quickly dispelled the angry feeling my doubts of +"Massa Davy" had excited, and opened her heart and her mouth at the same +moment. She was terribly garrulous; her tongue, as soon as it got under +way, ran on as if propelled by machinery and acquainted with the secret +of perpetual motion; but she was an interesting study. The +single-hearted attachment she showed for her master and his family gave +me a new insight into the practical working of "the peculiar +institution," and convinced me that even slavery, in some of its +aspects, is not so black as it is painted. + +When we were seated, I said to Scip, "What induced you to lay hands on +the Colonel? It is death, you know, if he enforces the law." + +"I knows dat, massa; I knows dat; but I had to do it. Dat Moye am de ole +debble, but de folks round har wud hab turned on de Cunnel, shore, ef +he'd killed him. Dey don't like de Cunnel; dey say he'm a stuck-up +seshener." + +"The Colonel, then, has befriended you at some time?" + +"No, no, sar; 'twarn't dat; dough I'se know'd him a long w'ile--eber +sense my ole massa fotched me from Habana--but 'twarn't dat." + +"Then _why_ did you do it?" + +The black hesitated a moment, and glanced at the old negress, then said: + +"You see, massa, w'en I fuss come to Charles'n, a pore little ting, wid +no friend in all de worle, dis ole aunty war a mudder to me. She nussed +de Cunnel; he am jess like her own chile, and I know'd 'twud kill her ef +he got hissef enter trubble." + +I noticed certain convulsive twitchings about the corners of the old +woman's mouth as she rose from her seat, threw her arms around Scip, +and, in words broken by sobs, faltered out: + +"_You_ am my chile; I loves you better dan Massa Davy--better dan all de +worle." + +The scene, had they not been black, would have been one for a painter. + +"You were the Colonel's nurse, Aunty," I said, when she had regained her +composure. "Have you always lived with him?" + +"Yas, sar, allers; I nussed him, and den de chil'ren--all ob 'em." + +"_All_ the children? I thought the Colonel had but one--Miss Clara." + +"Wal, he habn't, massa, only de boys." + +"What boys? I never heard he had sons." + +"Neber heerd of young Massa Davy, nor Massa Tommy! Haint you _seed_ +Massa Tommy, sar?" + +"Tommy! I was told he was Madam P----'s son." + +"So he am; Massa Davy had _her_ long afore he had missus." + +The truth flashed upon me; but could it be possible? Was I in South +Carolina or in Utah? + +"Who _is_ Madam P----?" I asked. + +The old woman hesitated a moment as if in doubt whether she had not said +too much; but Scip quietly replied: + +"She'm jess what aunty am--_de Cunnel's slave!_" + +"His _slave!_ it can't be possible; she is white!" + +"No, massa; she am brack, and de Cunnel's slave!" + +Not to weary the reader with a long repetition of negro-English, I will +tell in brief what I gleaned from an hour's conversation with the two +blacks. + +Madam P---- was the daughter of Ex-Gov. ----, of Virginia, by a quarteron +woman. She was born a slave, but was acknowledged as her father's child, +and reared in his family with his legitimate children. When she was ten +years old her father died, and his estate proving insolvent, the land +and negroes were brought under the hammer. His daughter, never having +been manumitted, was inventoried and sold with the other property. The +Colonel, then just of age, and a young man of fortune, bought her and +took her to the residence of his mother in Charleston. A governess was +provided for her, and a year or two afterward she was taken to the North +to be educated. There she was frequently visited by the Colonel; and +when fifteen her condition became such that she was obliged to return +home. He conveyed her to the plantation, where her elder son, David, was +soon after born, "Aunt Lucy" officiating on the occasion. When the child +was two years old, leaving it in charge of the aged negress, she +accompanied the Colonel to Europe, where they remained for a year. +Subsequently she passed another year at a Northern seminary; and then, +returning to the homestead, was duly installed as its mistress, and had +ever since presided over its domestic affairs. She was kind and good to +the negroes, who were greatly attached to her, and much of the +Colonel's wealth was due to her excellent management of the plantation. + +Six years after the birth of "young Massa Davy," the Colonel married his +present wife, that lady having full knowledge of his left-handed +connection with Madam P----, and consenting that the "bond-woman" should +remain on the plantation, as its mistress. The legitimate wife resided, +during most of the year, in Charleston, and when at the homestead took +little interest in domestic matters. On one of her visits to the +plantation, twelve years before, her daughter, Miss Clara, was born, and +within a week, under the same roof, Madam P---- presented the Colonel +with a son--the lad Thomas, of whom I have spoken. As the mother was +slave, the children were so also at birth, but _they_ had been +manumitted by their father. One of them was being educated in Germany; +and it was intended that both should spend their lives in that country, +the taint in their blood being an insuperable bar to their ever +acquiring social position at the South. + +As she finished the story, the old woman said, "Massa Davy am bery kind +to the missus, sar, but he _love_ de ma'am; an' he can't help it, 'cause +she'm jess so good as de angels."[E] + +In conversation with a well-known Southern gentleman, not long since, I +mentioned these two cases, and commented on them as a man educated with +New England ideas might be supposed to do. The gentleman admitted that +he knew of twenty such instances, and gravely defended the practice as +being infinitely more moral and respectable than the _more common +relation_ existing between masters and slaves. + +I looked at my watch--it was nearly ten o'clock, and I rose to go. As I +did so the old negress said: + +"Don't yer gwo, massa, 'fore you hab sum ob aunty's wine; you'm good +friends wid Scip, and I knows _you'se_ not too proud to drink wid brack +folks, ef you am from de Norf." + +Being curious to know what quality of wine a plantation slave indulged +in, I accepted the invitation. She went to the side-board, and brought +out a cut-glass decanter, and three cracked tumblers, which she placed +on the table. Filling the glasses to the brim, she passed one to Scip, +and one to me, and, with the other in her hand, resumed her seat. +Wishing her a good many happy years, and Scip a pleasant journey home, I +emptied my glass. It was Scuppernong, and the pure juice of the grape! + +"Aunty," I said, "this wine is as fine as I ever tasted." + +"Oh, yas, massa, it am de raal stuff. I growed de grapes myseff." + +"You grew them?" + +"Yas, sar, an' Massa Davy make de wine. He do it ebery yar for de ole +nuss." + +"The Colonel is very good. Do you raise any thing else?" + +"Yas, I hab collards and taters, a little corn, and most ebery ting." + +"But who does your work? _You_ certainly can't do it?" + +"Oh, de ma'am looks arter dat, sar; she'm bery good to de ole aunty." + +Shaking hands with both the negroes, I left the cabin, fully convinced +that all the happiness in this world is not found within plastered +apartments. + +The door of the mansion was bolted and barred; but, rapping for +admission, I soon heard the Colonel's voice asking, "Who is there?" +Giving a satisfactory answer, I was admitted. Explaining that he +supposed I had retired to my room, he led the way to the library. + +That apartment was much more elegantly furnished than the drawing-rooms. +Three of its sides were lined with books, and on the centre-table, +papers, pamphlets, and manuscripts were scattered in promiscuous +confusion. In an arm-chair near the fire, Madame P---- was seated, +reading. The Colonel's manner was as composed as if nothing had +disturbed the usual routine of the plantation; no trace of the recent +terrible excitement was visible; in fact, had I not been a witness to +the late tragedy, I should have thought it incredible that he, within +two hours, had been an actor in a scene which had cost a human being his +life. + +"Where in creation have you been, my dear fellow?" he asked, as we took +our seats. + +"At old Lucy's cabin, with Scip," I replied. + +"Indeed. I supposed the darky had gone." + +"No, he doesn't go till the morning." + +"I told you he wouldn't, David," said Madame P----; "now, send for +him--make friends with him before he goes." + +"No, Alice, it wont do. I bear him no ill-will, but it wont do. It would +be all over the plantation in an hour." + +"No matter for that; our people would like you the better for it." + +"No, no. I can't do it. I mean him no harm, but I can't do that." + +"He told me _why_ he interfered between you and Moye," I remarked. + +"Why did he?" + +"He says old Lucy, years ago, was a mother to him; that she is greatly +attached to you, and it would kill her if any harm happened to you; and +that your neighbors bear you no good-will, and would have enforced the +law had you killed Moye." + +"It is true, David; you would have had to answer for it." + +"Nonsense! what influence could this North County scum have against +_me_?" + +"Perhaps none. But that makes no difference; Scipio did right, and you +should tell him you forgive him." + +The Colonel then rang a small bell, and a negro woman soon appeared. +"Sue," he said, "go to Aunt Lucy's, and ask Scip to come here. Bring him +in at the front door, and, mind, let no one know he comes." + +The woman in a short time returned with Scip. There was not a trace of +fear or embarrassment in the negro's manner as he entered the room. +Making a respectful bow, he bade us "good evening." + +"Good evening, Scip," said the Colonel, rising and giving the black his +hand; "let us be friends. Madam tells me I should forgive you, and I +do." + +"Aunt Lucy say ma'am am an angel, sar, and it am tru--_it am tru_, sar," +replied the negro with considerable feeling. + +The lady rose, also, and took Scip's hand, saying, "_I_ not only forgive +you, but I _thank_ you for what you have done. I shall never forget it." + +"You'se too good, ma'am; you'se too good to say dat," replied the darky, +the moisture coming to his eyes; "but I meant nuffin' wrong--I meant +nuffin' dis'specful to de Cunnel." + +"I know you didn't, Scip; but we'll say no more about it;--good-by," +said the Colonel. + +Shaking hands with each one of us, the darky left the apartment. + +One who does not know that the high-bred Southern gentleman considers +the black as far below him as the horse he drives, or the dog he kicks, +cannot realize the amazing sacrifice of pride which the Colonel made in +seeking a reconciliation with Scip. It was the cutting off of his right +hand. The circumstance showed the powerful influence held over him by +the octoroon woman. Strange that she, his slave, cast out from society +by her blood and her life, despised, no doubt, by all the world, save by +him and a few ignorant blacks, should thus control a proud, self-willed, +passionate man, and control him, too, only for good. + +After the black had gone, I said to the Colonel, "I was much interested +in old Lucy. A few more such instances of cheerful and contented old +age, might lead me to think better of slavery." + +"Such cases are not rare, sir. They show the paternal character of our +'institution.' We are _forced_ to care for our servants in their old +age." + +"But have your other aged slaves the same comforts that Aunt Lucy has?" + +"No; they don't need them. She has been accustomed to live in my house, +and to fare better than the plantation hands; she therefore requires +better treatment." + +"Is not the support of that class a heavy tax upon you?" + +"Yes, it _is_ heavy. We have, of course, to deduct it from the labor of +the able-bodied hands." + +"What is the usual proportion of sick and infirm on your plantation?" + +"Counting in the child-bearing women, I reckon about twenty per cent." + +"And what does it cost you to support each hand?" + +"Well, it costs _me_, for children and all, about seventy-five dollars a +year. In some places it costs less. _I_ have to buy all my provisions." + +"What proportion of your slaves are able-bodied hands?" + +"Somewhere about sixty per cent. I have, all told, old and young--men, +women, and children--two hundred and seventy. Out of that number I have +now equal to a hundred and fifty-four _full_ hands. You understand that +we classify them: some do only half tasks, some three-quarters. I have +_more_ than a hundred and fifty-four working-men and women, but they do +only that number of full tasks." + +"What does the labor of a _full_ hand yield?" + +"At the present price of turpentine, my calculation is about two hundred +dollars a year." + +"Then your crop brings you about thirty-one thousand dollars, and the +support of your negroes costs you twenty thousand." + +"Yes." + +"If that's the case, my friend, let me advise you to sell your +plantation, free your niggers, and go North." + +"Why so, my dear fellow?" asked the Colonel laughing. + +"Because you'd make money by the operation." + +"I never was good at arithmetic; go into the figures," he replied, still +laughing, while Madam P----, who had laid aside her book, listened very +attentively. + +"Well, you have two hundred and seventy negroes, whom you value, we'll +say, with your mules, 'stills,' and movable property, at two hundred +thousand dollars; and twenty thousand acres of land, worth about three +dollars and a half an acre; all told, two hundred and seventy thousand +dollars. A hundred and fifty-four able-bodied hands produce you a yearly +profit of eleven thousand dollars, which, saying nothing about the cost +of keeping your live stock, the wear and tear of your mules and +machinery, and the yearly loss of your slaves by death, is only four per +cent. on your capital. Now, with only the price of your land, say +seventy thousand dollars, invested in safe stocks at the North, you +could realize eight per cent.--five thousand six hundred dollars--and +live at ease; and that, I judge, if you have many runaways, or many die +on your hands, is as much as you really _clear_ now. Besides, if you +should invest seventy thousand dollars in almost any legitimate business +at the North, and should add to it, _as you now do_, your _time_ and +_labor_, you would realize far more than you do at present from your +entire capital." + +"I never looked at the matter in that light. But I have given you my +profits as they _now_ are; some years I make more; six years ago I made +twenty-five thousand dollars." + +"Yes; and six years hence you may make nothing." + +"That's true. But it would cost me more to live at the North." + +"There you are mistaken. What do you pay for your corn, your pork, and +your hay, for instance?" + +"Well, my corn I have to bring round by vessel from Washington (North +Carolina), and it costs me high when it gets here--about ten bits (a +dollar and twenty-five cents), I think." + +"And in New York you could buy it now at sixty to seventy cents. What +does your hay cost?" + +"Thirty-five dollars. I pay twenty for it in New York--the balance is +freight and hauling." + +"Your pork costs you two or three dollars, I suppose, for freight and +hauling." + +"Yes; about that." + +"Then in those items you might save nearly a hundred per cent.; and they +are the principal articles you consume." + +"Yes; there's no denying that. But another thing is just as certain: it +costs less to support one of my niggers than one of your laboring men." + +"That may be true. But it only shows that our laborers fare better than +your slaves." + +"I am not sure of that. I _am_ sure, however, that our slaves are more +contented than the run of laboring men at the North." + +"That proves nothing. Your blacks have no hope, no chance to rise; and +they submit--though I judge not cheerfully--to an iron necessity. The +Northern laborer, if very poor, may be discontented; but discontent +urges him to effort, and leads to the bettering of his condition. I tell +you, my friend, slavery is an expensive luxury. You Southern nabobs +_will_ have it; and you have to _pay for it_." + +"Well, we don't complain. But, seriously, my good fellow, I feel that I +am carrying out the design of the Almighty in holding my niggers. I +think he made the black to serve the white." + +"_I_ think," I replied, "that whatever He designs works perfectly. Your +institution certainly does not. It keeps the producer, who, in every +society, is the really valuable citizen, in the lowest poverty, while it +allows those who do nothing to be 'clad in fine linen, and to fare +sumptuously every day.'" + +"It does more than that, sir," said Madam P----, with animation; "it +brutalizes and degrades the _master_ and the _slave_; it separates +husband and wife, parent and child; it sacrifices virtuous women to the +lust of brutal men; and it shuts millions out from the knowledge of +their duty and their destiny. A good and just God could not have +designed it; and it _must_ come to an end." + +If lightning had struck in the room I could not have been more startled +than I was by the abrupt utterance of such language in a planter's +house, in his very presence, and _by his slave_. The Colonel, however, +expressed no surprise and no disapprobation. It was evidently no new +thing to him. + +"It is rare, madam," I said, "to hear such sentiments from a Southern +lady--one reared among slaves." + +Before she could reply, the Colonel laughingly said: + +"Bless you, Mr. K----, madam is an out-and-out abolitionist, worse by +fifty per cent. than Garrison or Wendell Phillips. If she were at the +North she would take to pantaloons, and 'stump' the entire free States; +wouldn't you, Alice?" + +"I have no doubt of it," rejoined the lady, smiling. "But I fear I +should have poor success. I've tried for ten years to convert _you_, and +Mr. K---- can see the result." + +It had grown late; and with my head full of working niggers and white +slave-women, I went to my apartment. + +The next day was Sunday. It was near the close of December, yet the air +was as mild and the sun as warm as in our Northern October. It was +arranged at the breakfast-table that we all should attend service at +"the meeting-house," a church of the Methodist persuasion, located some +eight miles away; but as it wanted some hours of the time for religious +exercises to commence, I strolled out after breakfast, with the Colonel, +to inspect the stables of the plantation. "Massa Tommy" accompanied us, +without invitation; and in the Colonel's intercourse with him I observed +as much freedom and familiarity as he would have shown to an +acknowledged son. The youth's manners and conversation showed that great +attention had been given to his education and training, and made it +evident that the mother whose influence was forming his character, +whatever a false system of society had made her life, possessed some of +the best traits of her sex. + +The stables, a collection of one-story framed buildings, about a hundred +rods from the house, were well lighted and ventilated, and contained all +"the modern improvements." They were better built, warmer, more +commodious, and in every way more comfortable than the shanties occupied +by the human cattle of the plantation. I remarked as much to the +Colonel, adding that one who did not know would infer that he valued his +horses more than his slaves. + +"That may be true," he replied, laughing. "Two of my horses are worth +more than any eight of my slaves;" at the same time calling my attention +to two magnificent thorough-breds, one of which had made "2.32" on the +Charleston course. The establishment of a Southern gentleman is not +complete until it includes one or two of these useless appendages. I had +an argument with my host as to their value compared with that of the +steam-engine, in which I forced him to admit that the iron horse is the +better of the two, because it performs more work, eats less, has greater +speed, and is not liable to the spavin or the heaves; but he wound up by +saying, "After all, I go for the thorough-breds. You Yankees have but +one test of value--use." + +A ramble through the negro-quarters, which followed our visit to the +stables, gave me some further glimpses of plantation life. Many of the +hands were still away in pursuit of Moye, but enough remained to make it +evident that Sunday is the happiest day in the darky calendar. Groups of +all ages and colors were gathered in front of several of the cabins, +some singing, some dancing, and others chatting quietly together, but +all enjoying themselves as heartily as so many young animals let loose +in a pasture. They saluted the Colonel and me respectfully, but each one +had a free, good-natured word for "Massa Tommy," who seemed an especial +favorite with them. The lad took their greetings in good part, but +preserved an easy, unconscious dignity of manner that plainly showed he +did not know that _he_ too was of their despised, degraded race. + +The Colonel, in a rapid way, gave me the character and peculiarities of +nearly every one we met. The titles of some of them amused me greatly. +At every step we encountered individuals whose names have become +household words in every civilized country.[F] Julius Caesar, slightly +stouter than when he swam the Tiber, and somewhat tanned from long +exposure to a Southern sun, was seated on a wood-pile, quietly smoking a +pipe; while near him, Washington, divested of regimentals, and clad in a +modest suit of reddish-gray, his thin locks frosted by time, and his +fleshless visage showing great age, was gazing, in rapt admiration, at a +group of dancers in front of old Lucy's cabin. + +In this group about thirty men and women were making the ground quake +and the woods ring with their unrestrained jollity. Marc Antony was +rattling away at the bones, Nero fiddling as if Rome were burning, and +Hannibal clawing at a banjo as if the fate of Carthage hung on its +strings. Napoleon, as young and as lean as when he mounted the bridge of +Lodi, with the battle-smoke still on his face, was moving his legs even +faster than in the Russian retreat; and Wesley was using his heels in a +way that showed _they_ didn't belong to the Methodist church. But the +central figures of the group were Cato and Victoria. The lady had a face +like a thunder-cloud, and a form that, if whitewashed, would have +outsold the "Greek Slave." She was built on springs, and "floated in the +dance" like a feather in a high wind. Cato's mouth was like an +alligator's, but when it opened, it issued notes that would draw the +specie even in this time of general suspension. As we approached he was +singing a song, but he paused on perceiving us, when the Colonel, +tossing a handful of coin among them, called out, "Go on, boys; let the +gentleman have some music; and you, Vic, show your heels like a beauty." + +A general scramble followed, in which "Vic's" sense of decorum forbade +her to join, and she consequently got nothing. Seeing that, I tossed her +a silver piece, which she caught. Grinning her thanks, she shouted, +"Now, clar de track, you nigs; start de music. I'se gwine to gib de +gemman de breakdown." + +And she did; and such a breakdown! "We w'ite folks," though it was no +new thing to the Colonel or Tommy, almost burst with laughter. + +In a few minutes nearly every negro on the plantation, attracted by the +presence of the Colonel and myself, gathered around the performers; and +a shrill voice at my elbow called out, "Look har, ye lazy, +good-for-nuffin' niggers, carn't ye fotch a cheer for Massa Davy and de +strange gemman?" + +"Is that you, Aunty?" said the Colonel. "How d'ye do?" + +"Sort o' smart, Massa Davy; sort o' smart; how is ye?" + +"Pretty well, Aunty; pretty well. Have a seat." And the Colonel helped +her to one of the chairs that were brought for us, with as much +tenderness as he would have shown to an aged white lady. + +The "exercises," which had been suspended for a moment, recommenced, and +the old negress entered into them as heartily as the youngest present. A +song from Cato followed the dance, and then about twenty "gentleman and +lady" darkies joined, two at a time, in a half "walk-round" half +breakdown, which the Colonel told me was the original of the well-known +dance and song of Lucy Long. Other performances succeeded, and the whole +formed a scene impossible to describe. Such uproarious jollity, such +full and perfect enjoyment, I had never seen in humanity, black or +white. The little nigs, only four or five years old, would rush into the +ring and shuffle away at the breakdowns till I feared their short legs +would come off; while all the darkies joined in the songs, till the +branches of the old pines above shook as if they too had caught the +spirit of the music. In the midst of it, the Colonel said to me, in an +exultant tone: + +"Well, my friend, what do you think of slavery _now_?" + +"About the same that I thought yesterday. I see nothing to change my +views." + +"Why, are not these people happy? Is not this perfect enjoyment?" + +"Yes; just the same enjoyment that aunty's pigs are having; don't you +hear _them_ singing to the music? I'll wager they are the happier of the +two." + +"No; you are wrong. The higher faculties of the darkies are being +brought out here." + +"I don't know that," I replied. "Within the sound of their voices, two +of their fellows--victims to the inhumanity of slavery--are lying dead, +and yet they make _Sunday_ "hideous" with wild jollity, while Sam's fate +may be theirs to-morrow." + +Spite of his genuine courtesy and high breeding, a shade of displeasure +passed over the Colonel's face as I made this remark. Rising to go, he +said, a little impatiently, "Ah, I see how it is; that d---- Garrison's +sentiments have impregnated even you. How can the North and the South +hold together when moderate men like you and me are so far apart?" + +"But you," I rejoined, good-humoredly, "are not a moderate man. You and +Garrison are of the same stripe, both extremists. _You_ have mounted one +hobby, _he_ another; that is all the difference." + +"I should be sorry," he replied, recovering his good nature, "to think +myself like Garrison. I consider him the ---- scoundrel unhung." + +"No; I think he means well. But you are both fanatics, both 'bricks' of +the same material; we conservatives, like mortar, will hold you together +and yet keep you apart." + +"I, for one, _won't_ be held. If I can't get out of this cursed Union in +any other way, I'll emigrate to Cuba." + +I laughed, and just then, looking up, caught a glimpse of Jim, who +stood, hat in hand, waiting to speak to the Colonel, but not daring to +interrupt a white conversation. + +"Hallo, Jim," I said; "have you got back?" + +"Yas, sar," replied Jim, grinning all over as if he had some agreeable +thing to communicate. + +"Where is Moye?" asked the Colonel. + +"Kotched, massa; I'se got de padlocks on him." + +"Kotched," echoed half a dozen darkies, who stood near enough to hear; +"Ole Moye is kotched," ran through the crowd, till the music ceased, and +a shout went up from two hundred black throats that made the old trees +tremble. + +"Now gib him de lashes, Massa Davy," cried the old nurse. "Gib him what +he gabe pore Sam; but mine dat you keeps widin de law." + +"Never fear, Aunty," said the Colonel; "I'll give him ----." + +How the Colonel kept his word will be told in another chapter. + +[Footnote E: Instances are frequent where Southern gentlemen form these +left-handed connections, and rear two sets of differently colored +children; but it is not often that the two families occupy the same +domicil. The only other case within my _personal_ knowledge was that of +the well-known President of the Bank of St. M----, at Columbus, Ga. That +gentleman, whose note ranked in Wall Street, when the writer was +acquainted with that locality, as "A No. 1," lived for fifteen years +with two "wives" under one roof. One, an accomplished white woman, and +the mother of several children--did the honors of his table, and moved +with him in "the best society;" the other--a beautiful quadroon, also +the mother of several children--filled the humbler office of nurse to +her own and the other's offspring.] + +[Footnote F: Among the things of which slavery has deprived the black is a +_name_. A slave has no family designation. It may be for that reason +that a high-sounding appellation is usually selected for the single one +he is allowed to appropriate.] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +PLANTATION DISCIPLINE. + + +The "Ole Cabin" to which Jim had alluded as the scene of Sam's +punishment by the overseer, was a one-story shanty in the vicinity of +the stables. Though fast falling to decay, it had more the appearance of +a human habitation than the other huts on the plantation. Its thick +plank door was ornamented with a mouldy brass knocker, and its four +windows contained sashes, to which here and there clung a broken pane, +the surviving relic of its better days. It was built of large unhewn +logs, notched at the ends and laid one upon the other, with the bark +still on. The thick, rough coat which yet adhered in patches to the +timber had opened in the sun, and let the rain and the worm burrow in +its sides, till some parts had crumbled entirely away. At one corner the +process of decay had gone on till roof, superstructure, and foundation +had rotted down and left an opening large enough to admit a coach and +four horses. The huge chimneys which had graced the gable ends of the +building were fallen in, leaving only a mass of sticks and clay to tell +of their existence, and two wide openings to show how great a figure +they had once made in the world. A small space in front of the cabin +would have been a lawn, had the grass been willing to grow upon it; and +a few acres of cleared land in its rear might have passed for a garden, +had it not been entirely overgrown with young pines and stubble. This +primitive structure was once the "mansion" of that broad plantation, +and, before the production of turpentine came into fashion in that +region, its rude owner drew his support from its few surrounding acres, +more truly independent than the present aristocratic proprietor, who, +raising only one article, and buying all his provisions, was forced to +draw his support from the Yankee or the Englishman. + +Only one room, about forty feet square, occupied the interior of the +cabin. It once contained several apartments, vestiges of which still +remained, but the partitions had been torn away to fit it for its +present uses. What those uses were, a moment's observation showed me. + +In the middle of the floor, a space about fifteen feet square was +covered with thick pine planking, strongly nailed to the beams. In the +centre of this planking, an oaken block was firmly bolted, and to it was +fastened a strong iron staple that held a log-chain, to which was +attached a pair of shackles. Above this, was a queer frame-work of oak, +somewhat resembling the contrivance for drying fruit I have seen in +Yankee farmhouses. Attached to the rafters by stout pieces of timber, +were two hickory poles, placed horizontally, and about four feet apart, +the lower one rather more than eight feet from the floor. This was the +whipping-rack, and hanging to it were several stout whips with short +hickory handles, and long triple lashes. I took one down for closer +inspection, and found burned into the wood, in large letters, the words +"Moral Suasion." I questioned the appropriateness of the label, but the +Colonel insisted with great gravity, that the whip is the only "moral +suasion" a darky is capable of understanding. + +When punishment is inflicted on one of the Colonel's negroes, his feet +are confined in the shackles, his arms tied above his head, and drawn by +a stout cord up to one of the horizontal poles; then, his back bared to +the waist, and standing on tip-toe, with every muscle stretched to its +utmost tension, he takes "de lashes." + +A more severe but more unusual punishment is the "thumb-screw." In this +a noose is passed around the negro's thumb and fore-finger, while the +cord is thrown over the upper cross-pole, and the culprit is drawn up +till his toes barely touch the ground. In this position the whole weight +of the body rests on the thumb and fore-finger. The torture is +excruciating, and strong, able-bodied men can endure it but a few +moments. The Colonel naively told me that he had discontinued its +practice, as several of his _women_ had nearly lost the use of their +hands, and been incapacitated for field labor, by its too frequent +repetition. "My ---- drivers,"[G] he added, "have no discretion, and no +humanity; if they have a pique against a nigger, they show him no +mercy." + +The old shanty I have described was now the place of the overseer's +confinement. Open as it was at top, bottom, and sides, it seemed an +unsafe prison-house; but Jim had secured its present occupant by placing +"de padlocks on him." + +"Where did you catch him?" asked the Colonel, as, followed by every +darky on the plantation, we took our way to the old building. + +"In de swamp, massa. We got Sandy and de dogs arter him--dey treed him, +but he fit like de debble." + +"Any one hurt?" + +"Yas, Cunnel; he knifed Yaller Jake, and ef I hadn't a gibin him a +wiper, you'd a had anudder nigger short dis mornin'--shore." + +"How was it? tell me," said his master, while we paused, and the darkies +gathered around. + +"Wal, yer see, massa, we got de ole debble's hat dat he drapped wen you +had him down; den we went to Sandy's fur de dogs--dey scented him to +onst, and off dey put for de swamp. 'Bout twenty on us follored 'em. +He'd a right smart start on us, and run like a deer, but de hounds +kotched up wid him 'bout whar he shot pore Sam. He fit 'em and cut up de +Lady awful, but ole Caesar got a hole ob him, and sliced a breakfuss out +ob his legs. Somehow, dough, he got 'way from de ole dog, and clum a +tree. 'Twar more'n an hour afore we kotched up; but dar he war, and de +houns baying 'way as ef dey know'd what an ole debble he am. I'd tuk one +ob de guns--you warn't in de house, massa, so I cudn't ax you." + +"Never mind that; go on," said the Colonel. + +"Wal, I up wid de gun, and tole him ef he didn't cum down I'd gib him +suffin' dat 'ud sot hard on de stummuk. It tuk him a long w'ile, but--he +_cum down_." Here the darky showed a row of ivory that would have been a +fair capital for a metropolitan dentist. + +"When he war down," he resumed, "Jake war gwine to tie him, but de ole +'gator, quicker dan a flash, put a knife enter him." + +"Is Jake much hurt?" interrupted the Colonel. + +"Not bad, massa; de knife went fru his arm, and enter his ribs, but de +ma'am hab fix him, and she say he'll be 'round bery sudden." + +"Well, what then?" inquired the Colonel. + +"Wen de ole debble seed he hadn't finished Jake, he war gwine to gib him +anudder dig, but jus den I drap de gun on his cocoanut, and he neber +trubble us no more. 'Twar mons'rous hard work to git him out ob de +swamp, 'cause he war jess like a dead man, and had to be toted de hull +way; but he'm dar now, massa (pointing to the old cabin), and de +bracelets am on him." + +"Where is Jake?" asked the Colonel. + +"Dunno, massa, but reckon he'm to hum." + +"One of you boys go and bring him to the cabin," said the Colonel. + +A negro man went off on the errand, while we and the darkies resumed our +way to the overseer's quarters. Arrived there, I witnessed a scene that +words cannot picture. + +Stretched at full length on the floor, his clothes torn to shreds, his +coarse carroty hair matted with blood, and his thin, ugly visage pale as +death, lay the overseer. Bending over him, wiping away the blood from +his face, and swathing a ghastly wound on his forehead, was the negress +Sue; while at his shackled feet, binding up his still bleeding legs, +knelt the octoroon woman! + +"Is _she_ here?" I said, involuntarily, as I caught sight of the group. + +"It's her nature," said the Colonel, with a pleasant smile; "if Moye +were the devil himself, she'd do him good if she could; another such +woman never lived." + +And yet this woman, with all the instincts that make her sex +angel-ministers to man, lived in daily violation of the most sacred of +all laws--because she was a slave. Can Mr. Caleb Cushing or Charles +O'Conor tell us why the Almighty invented a system which forces his +creatures to break laws of His own making? + +"Don't waste your time on him, Alice," said the Colonel, kindly; "he +isn't worth the rope that'll hang him." + +"He was bleeding to death; unless he has care he'll die," said the +octoroon woman. + +"Then let him die, d---- him," replied the Colonel, advancing to where +the overseer lay, and bending down to satisfy himself of his condition. + +Meanwhile more than two hundred dusky forms crowded around and filled +every opening of the old building. Every conceivable emotion, except +pity, was depicted on their dark faces. The same individuals whose +cloudy visages a half hour before I had seen distended with a wild mirth +and careless jollity, that made me think them really the docile, +good-natured animals they are said to be, now glared on the prostrate +overseer with the infuriated rage of aroused beasts when springing on +their prey. + +"You can't come the possum here. Get up, you ---- hound," said the +Colonel, rising and striking the bleeding man with his foot. + +The fellow raised himself on one elbow and gazed around with a stupid, +vacant look. His eye wandered unsteadily for a moment from the Colonel +to the throng of cloudy faces in the doorway; then, his recent +experience flashing upon him, he shrieked out, clinging wildly to the +skirts of the octoroon woman, who was standing near, "Keep off them +cursed hounds--keep them off, I say--they'll kill me! they'll kill me!" + +One glance satisfied me that his mind was wandering. The blow on the +head had shattered his reason, and made the strong man less than a +child. + +"You wont be killed yet," said the Colonel. "You've a small account to +settle with me before you reckon with the devil." + +At this moment the dark crowd in the doorway parted, and Jake entered, +his arm bound up and in a sling. + +"Jake, come here," said the Colonel; "this man would have killed you. +What shall we do with him?" + +"'Taint for a darky to say dat, massa," said the negro, evidently +unaccustomed to the rude administration of justice which the Colonel +was about to inaugurate; "he did wuss dan dat to Sam, massa--he orter +swing for shootin' him." + +"That's _my_ affair; we'll settle your account first," replied the +Colonel. + +The darky looked undecidedly at his master, and then at the overseer, +who, overcome by weakness, had sunk again to the floor. The little +humanity in him was evidently struggling with his hatred of Moye and his +desire for revenge, when the old nurse yelled out from among the crowd, +"Gib him fifty lashes, Massa Davy, and den you wash him down.[H] Be a +man, Jake, and say dat." + +Jake still hesitated, and when at last he was about to speak, the eye of +the octoroon caught his, and chained the words to his tongue, as if by +magnetic power. + +"Do you say that, boys;" said the Colonel, turning to the other negroes; +"shall he have fifty lashes?" + +"Yas, massa, fifty lashes--gib de ole debble fifty lashes," shouted +about fifty voices. + +"He shall have them," quietly said the master. + +The mad shout that followed, which was more like the yell of demons than +the cry of men, seemed to arouse Moye to a sense of his real position. +Springing to his feet, he gazed wildly around; then, sinking on his +knees before the octoroon, and clutching the folds of her dress, he +shrieked, "Save me, good lady, save me! as you hope for mercy, save me!" + + +Not a muscle of her face moved, but, turning to the excited crowd, she +mildly said, "Fifty lashes would kill him. _Jake_ does not say +that--your master leaves it to him, and _he_ will not whip a dying +man--will you, Jake?" + +"No, ma'am--not--not ef you gwo agin it," replied the negro, with very +evident reluctance. + +"But he whipped Sam, ma'am, when Sam war nearer dead than _he_ am," said +Jim, whose station as house-servant allowed him a certain freedom of +speech. + +"Because he was brutal to Sam, should you be brutal to him? Can you +expect me to tend you when you are sick, if you beat a dying man? Does +Pompey say you should do such things?" + +"No, good ma'am," said the old preacher, stepping out, with the freedom +of an old servant, from the black mass, and taking his stand beside me +in the open space left for the "w'ite folks;" "de ole man dusn't say +dat, ma'am; he tell 'em dat de Lord want 'em to forgib dar en'mies--to +lub dem dat pursyskute 'em;" and, turning to the Colonel, he added, as +he passed his hand meekly over his thin crop of white wool and threw his +long heel back, "ef massa'll 'low me I'll talk to 'em." + +"Fire away," said the Colonel, with evident chagrin. "This is a nigger +trial; if you want to screen the d---- hound you can do it." + +"I dusn't want to screed him, massa, but I'se bery ole and got soon to +gwo, and I dusn't want de blessed Lord to ax me wen I gets dar why I +'lowed dese pore ig'nant brack folks to mudder a man 'fore my bery +face. I toted you, massa, 'fore you cud gwo, I'se worked for you till I +can't work no more; and I dusn't want to tell de Lord dat _my_ massa let +a brudder man be killed in cole blood." + +"He is no brother of mine, you old fool; preach to the nigs, don't +preach to me," said the Colonel, stifling his displeasure, and striding +off through the black crowd, without saying another word. + +Here and there in the dark mass a face showed signs of relenting; but +much the larger number of that strange jury, had the question been put, +would have voted--DEATH. + +The old preacher turned to them as the Colonel passed out, and said, "My +chil'ren, would you hab dis man whipped, so weak, so dyin' as he am, ef +he war brack?" + +"No, not ef he war a darky--fer den he wouldn't be such an ole debble," +replied Jim, and about a dozen of the other negroes. + +"De w'ite aint no wuss dan de brack--we'm all 'like--pore sinners all on +us. De Lord wudn't whip a w'ite man no sooner dan a brack one--He tinks +de w'ite juss so good as de brack (good Southern doctrine, I thought). +De porest w'ite trash wudn't strike a man wen he war down." + +"We'se had 'nough of dis, ole man," said a large, powerful negro (one of +the drivers), stepping forward, and, regardless of the presence of Madam +P---- and myself, pressing close to where the overseer lay, now totally +unconscious of what was passing around him. "You needn't preach no more; +de Cunnel hab say we'm to whip ole Moye, and we'se gwine to do it, +by ----." + +I felt my fingers closing on the palm of my hand, and in a second more +they might have cut the darky's profile, had not Madam P---- cried out, +"Stand back, you impudent fellow: say another word, and I'll have you +whipped on the spot." + +"De Cunnel am my massa, ma'am--_he_ say ole Moye am to be whipped, and +I'se gwine to do it--shore." + +I have seen a storm at sea--I have seen the tempest tear up great +trees--I have seen the lightning strike in a dark night--but I never saw +any thing half so grand, half so terrible, as the glance and tone of +that woman as she cried out, "Jim, take this man--give him fifty lashes +this instant." + +Quicker than thought, a dozen darkies were on him. His hands and feet +were tied and he was under the whipping-rack in a second. Turning then +to the other negroes, the brave woman said, "Some of you carry Moye to +the house, and you, Jim, see to this man--if fifty lashes don't make him +sorry, give him fifty more." + +This summary change of programme was silently acquiesced in by the +assembled negroes, but many a cloudy face scowled sulkily on the +octoroon, as, leaning on my arm, she followed Junius and the other +negroes, who bore Moye to the mansion. It was plain that under those +dark faces a fire was burning that a breath would have fanned into a +flame. + +We entered the house by its rear door, and placed Moye in a small room +on the ground floor. He was laid on a bed, and stimulants being given +him, his senses and reason shortly returned. His eyes opened, and his +real position seemed suddenly to flash upon him, for he turned to Madam +P----, and in a weak voice, half choked with emotion, faltered out: "May +God in heaven bless ye, ma'am; God _will_ bless ye for bein' so good to +a wicked man like me. I doesn't desarve it, but ye woant leave me--ye +woant leave me--they'll kill me ef ye do!" + +"Don't fear," said the Madam; "you shall have a fair trial. No harm +shall come to you here." + +"Thank ye, thank ye," gasped the overseer, raising himself on one arm, +and clutching at the lady's hand, which he tried to lift to his lips. + +"Don't say any more now," said Madam P----, quietly; "you must rest and +be quiet, or you wont get well." + +"Shan't I get well? Oh, I can't die--I can't die _now_!" + +The lady made a soothing reply, and giving him an opiate, and arranging +the bedding so that he might rest more easily, she left the room with +me. + +As we stepped into the hall, I saw through the front door, which was +open, the horses harnessed in readiness for "meeting," and the Colonel +pacing to and fro on the piazza, smoking a cigar. He perceived us, and +halted in the doorway. + +"So you've brought that d---- bloodthirsty villain into my house!" he +said to Madam P---- in a tone of strong displeasure. + +"How could I help it? The negroes are mad, and would kill him anywhere +else," replied the lady, with a certain self-confidence that showed she +knew her power over the Colonel. + +"Why should _you_ interfere between them and him? Has he not insulted +you enough to make you let him alone? Can you so easily forgive his +taunting you with"--He did not finish the sentence, but what I had +learned on the previous evening from the old nurse gave me a clue to its +meaning. A red flame flushed the face and neck of the octoroon +woman--her eyes literally flashed fire, and her very breath seemed to +come with pain; in a moment, however, this emotion passed away, and she +quietly said, "Let me settle that in my own way. He has served _you_ +well--_you_ have nothing against him that the law will not punish." + +"By ----, you are the most unaccountable woman I ever knew," exclaimed +the Colonel, striding up and down the piazza, the angry feeling passing +from his face, and giving way to a mingled expression of wonder and +admiration. The conversation was here interrupted by Jim, who just then +made his appearance, hat in hand. + +"Well, Jim, what is it?" asked his master. + +"We'se gib'n Sam twenty lashes, ma'am, but he beg so hard, and say he so +sorry, dat I tole him I'd ax you 'fore we gabe him any more." + +"Well, if he's sorry, that's enough; but tell him he'll get fifty +another time," said the lady. + +"What Sam is it?" asked the Colonel. + +"Big Sam, the driver," said Jim. + +"Why was he whipped?" + +"He told me _you_ were his master, and insisted on whipping Moye," +replied the lady. + +"Did he dare to do that? Give him a hundred, Jim, not one less," roared +the Colonel. + +"Yas, massa," said Jim, turning to go. + +The lady looked significantly at the negro and shook her head, but said +nothing, and he left. + +"Come, Alice, it is nearly time for meeting, and I want to stop and see +Sandy on the way." + +"I reckon I wont go," said Madam P----. + +"You stay to take care of Moye, I suppose," said the Colonel, with a +slight sneer. + +"Yes," replied the lady, "he is badly hurt, and in danger of +inflammation." + +"Well, suit yourself. Mr. K----, come, _we'll_ go--you'll meet some of +the _natives_." + +The lady retired to the house, and the Colonel and I were soon ready. +The driver brought the horses to the door, and as we were about to enter +the carriage, I noticed Jim taking his accustomed seat on the box. + +"Who's looking after Sam?" asked the Colonel. + +"Nobody, Cunnel; de ma'am leff him gwo." + +"How dare you disobey me? Didn't I tell you to give him a hundred?" + +"Yas, massa, but de ma'am tole me notter." + +"Well, another time you mind what _I_ say--do you hear?" said his +master. + +"Yas, massa," said the negro, with a broad grin, "I allers do dat." + +"You _never_ do it, you d---- nigger; I ought to have flogged you long +ago." + +Jim said nothing, but gave a quiet laugh, showing no sort of fear, and +we entered the carriage. I afterward learned from him that he had never +been whipped, and that all the negroes on the plantation obeyed the lady +when, which was seldom, her orders came in conflict with their master's. +They knew if they did not, the Colonel would whip them. + +As we rode slowly along the Colonel said to me, "Well, you see that the +best people have to flog niggers sometimes." + +"Yes, _I_ should have given that fellow a hundred lashes, at least. I +think the effect on the others would have been bad if Madam P---- had +not had him flogged." + +"But she generally goes against it. I don't remember of her having it +done in ten years before. And yet, though I've the worst gang of niggers +in the district, they obey her like so many children." + +"Why is that?" + +"Well, there's a kind of magnetism about her that makes everybody love +her; and then she tends them in sickness, and is constantly doing little +things for their comfort; _that_ attaches them to her. She is an +extraordinary woman." + +"Whose negroes are those, Colonel?" I asked, as, after a while, we +passed a gang of about a dozen, at work near the roadside. Some were +tending a tar-kiln, and some engaged in cutting into fire-wood the pines +which a recent tornado had thrown to the ground. + +"They are mine, but they are working now for themselves. I let such as +will, work on Sunday. I furnish the "raw material," and pay them for +what they do, as I would a white man." + +"Wouldn't it be better to make them go to hear the old preacher; +couldn't they learn something from him?" + +"Not much; Old Pomp never read any thing but the Bible, and he doesn't +understand that; besides, they can't be taught. You can't make 'a +whistle out of a pig's tail;' you can't make a nigger into a white man." + +Just here the carriage stopped suddenly, and we looked out to see the +cause. The road by which we had come was a mere opening through the +pines; no fences separated it from the wooded land, and being seldom +travelled, the track was scarcely visible. In many places it widened to +a hundred feet, but in others tall trees had grown up on its opposite +sides, leaving scarcely width enough for a single carriage to pass +along. In one of these narrow passages, just before us, a queer-looking +vehicle had upset, and scattered its contents in the road. We had no +alternative but to wait till it got out of the way; and we all alighted +to reconnoitre. + +The vehicle was a little larger than an ordinary handcart, and was +mounted on wheels that had probably served their time on a Boston dray +before commencing their travels in Secessiondom. Its box of pine +boarding and its shafts of rough oak poles were evidently of Southern +home manufacture. Attached to it by a rope harness, with a primitive +bridle of decidedly original construction, was--not a horse, nor a mule, +nor even an alligator, but a "three-year-old heifer." + +The wooden linch-pin of the cart had given way, and the weight of a +half-dozen barrels of turpentine had thrown the box off its balance, and +rolled the contents about in all directions. + +The appearance of the proprietor of this nondescript vehicle was in +keeping with his establishment. His coat, which was much too short in +the waist and much too long in the skirts, was of the common reddish +gray linsey, and his nether garments, which stopped just below the +knees, were of the same material. From there downwards, he wore only the +covering that is said to have been the fashion in Paradise before Adam +took to fig-leaves. His hat had a rim broader than a political platform, +and his skin a color half way between tobacco-juice and a tallow +candle. + +"Wal, Cunnul, how dy'ge?" said the stranger, as we stepped from the +carriage. + +"Very well, Ned; how are you?" + +"Purty wal, Cunnul; had the nagur lately, right smart, but'm gittin' +'roun'." + +"You're in a bad fix here, I see. Can Jim help you?" + +"Wal, p'raps he moight. Jim, how dy'ge?" + +"Sort o' smart, ole feller. But come, stir yerseff; we want ter gwo +'long," replied Jim, with a lack of courtesy that showed he regarded the +white man as altogether too "trashy" to be treated with much ceremony. + +With the aid of Jim, a new linch-pin was soon whittled out, the +turpentine rolled on to the cart, and the vehicle put in a moving +condition. + +"Where are you hauling your turpentine?" asked the Colonel. + +"To Sam Bell's, at the 'Boro'." + +"What will he pay you?" + +"Wal, I've four barr'ls of 'dip,' and tu of 'hard.' For the hull, I +reckon he'll give three dollar a barr'l." + +"By tale?" + +"No, for tu hun'red and eighty pound." + +"Well, _I'll_ give you two dollars and a half, by weight." + +"Can't take it, Cunnel; must get three dollar." + +"What, will you go sixty miles with this team, and waste five or six +days, for fifty cents on six barrels--three dollars!" + +"Can't 'ford the time, Cunnel, but must git three dollar a barr'l." + +"That fellow is a specimen of our 'natives,'" said the Colonel, as we +resumed our seats in the carriage. "You'll see more of them before we +get back to the plantation." + +"He puts a young cow to a decidedly original use," I remarked. + +"Oh no, not original here; the ox and the cow with us are both used for +labor." + +"You don't mean to say that cows are generally worked here?" + +"Of course I do. Our breeds are good for nothing as milkers, and we put +them to the next best use. I never have cow's milk on my plantation." + +"You don't! I could have sworn it was in my coffee this morning." + +"I wouldn't trust you to buy brandy for me, if your organs of taste are +not keener than that. It was goat's milk." + +"Then how do you get your butter?" + +"From the North. I've had mine from my New York factors for over ten +years." + +We soon arrived at Sandy, the negro-hunter's, and halted to allow the +Colonel to inquire as to the health of his family of children and +dogs--the latter the less numerous, but, if I might judge by +appearances, the more valued of the two. + +[Footnote G: The negro-whippers and field overseers.] + +[Footnote H: Referring to the common practice of bathing the raw and +bleeding backs of the punished slaves with a strong solution of salt +and water.] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE NEGRO HUNTER. + + +Alighting from the carriage, I entered, with my host, the cabin of the +negro-hunter. So far as external appearance went, the shanty was a +slight improvement on the "Mills House," described in a previous +chapter; but internally, it was hard to say whether it resembled more a +pig-sty or a dog-kennel. The floor was of the bare earth, covered in +patches with loose plank of various descriptions, and littered over with +billets of "lightwood," unwashed cooking utensils, two or three cheap +stools, a pine settee--made from the rough log and hewn smooth on the +upper side--a full-grown bloodhound, two younger canines, and nine +half-clad juveniles of the flax-head species. Over against the +fire-place three low beds afforded sleeping accommodation to nearly a +dozen human beings (of assorted sizes, and dove-tailed together with +heads and feet alternating), and in the opposite corner a lower couch, +whose finer furnishings told plainly it was the peculiar property of the +"wee ones" of the family--a mother's tenderness for her youngest thus +cropping out even in the midst of filth and degradation--furnished +quarters for an unwashed, uncombed, unclothed, saffron-hued little +fellow about fifteen months old, and--the dog "Lady." She was of a dark +hazel color--a cross between a pointer and a bloodhound--and one of the +most beautiful creatures I ever saw. Her neck and breast were bound +about with a coarse cotton cloth, saturated with blood, and emitting a +strong odor of bad whiskey; and her whole appearance showed the +desperate nature of the encounter with the overseer. + +The nine young democrats who were lolling about the room in various +attitudes, rose as we entered, and with a familiar but rather +deferential "How-dy'ge," to the Colonel, huddled around and stared at me +with open mouths and distended eyes, as if I were some strange being, +dropped from another sphere. The two eldest were of the male gender, as +was shown by their clothes--cast-off suits of the inevitable +reddish-gray, much too large, and out at the elbows and the knees--but +the sex of the others I was at a loss to determine, for they wore only a +single robe, reaching, like their mother's, from the neck to the knees. +Not one of the occupants of the cabin boasted a pair of stockings, but +the father and mother did enjoy the luxury of shoes--coarse, stout +brogans, untanned, and of the color of the legs which they encased. + +"Well, Sandy, how is 'Lady?'" asked the Colonel, as he stepped to the +bed of the wounded dog. + +"Reckon she's a goner, Cunnel; the d---- Yankee orter swing fur it." + +This intimation that the overseer was a countryman of mine, took me by +surprise, nothing I had observed in his speech or manners having +indicated it, but I consoled myself with the reflection that Connecticut +had reared him--as she makes wooden hams and nutmegs--expressly for the +Southern market. + +"He _shall_ swing for it, by ----. But are you sure the slut will die?" + +"Not shore, Cunnel, but she can't stand, and the blood _will_ run. I +reckon a hun'red and fifty ar done for thar, sartin." + +"D---- the money--I'll make that right. Go to the house and get some +ointment from Madam--she can save her--go at once," said my host. + +"I will, Cunnel," replied the dirt-eater, taking his broad-brim from a +wooden peg, and leisurely leaving the cabin. Making our way then over +the piles of rubbish and crowds of children that cumbered the apartment, +the Colonel and I returned to the carriage. + +"Dogs must be rare in this region," I remarked, as we resumed our seats. + +"Yes, well-trained bloodhounds are scarce everywhere. That dog is well +worth a hundred and fifty dollars." + +"The business of nigger-catching, then, is brisk, just now?" + +"No, not more brisk than usual. We always have more or less runaways." + +"Do most of them take to the swamps?" + +"Yes, nine out of ten do, though now and then one gets off on a trading +vessel. It is almost impossible for a strange nigger to make his way by +land from here to the free states." + +"Then why do you Carolinians make such an outcry about the violation of +the Fugitive Slave Law?" + +"For the same reason that dogs quarrel over a naked bone. We should be +unhappy if we couldn't growl at the Yankees," replied the Colonel, +laughing. + +"_We_, you say; you mean by that, the hundred and eighty thousand nabobs +who own five-sixths of your slaves?"[I] + +"Yes, I mean them, and the three millions of poor whites--the ignorant, +half-starved, lazy vermin you have just seen. _They_ are the real basis +of our Southern oligarchy, as you call it," continued my host, still +laughing. + +"I thought the negroes were the serfs in your feudal system?" + +"Both the negroes and the poor whites are the serfs, but the white trash +are its real support. Their votes give the small minority of +slave-owners all their power. You say we control the Union. We do, and +we do it by the votes of these people, who are as far below our niggers +as the niggers are below decent white men. Who that reflects that this +country has been governed for fifty years by such scum, would give a +d---- for republican institutions?" + +"It does speak badly for _your_ institutions. A system that reduces +nearly half of a white population to the level of slaves cannot stand in +this country. The late election shows that the power of your 'white +trash' is broken." + +"Well, it does, that's a fact. If the states should remain together, the +West would in future control the Union. We see that, and are therefore +determined on dissolution. It is our only way to keep our niggers." + +"The West will have to consent to that project. My opinion is, your +present policy will, if carried out, free every one of your slaves." + +"I don't see how. Even if we are put down--which we cannot be--and are +held in the Union against our will, government cannot, by the +constitution, interfere with slavery in the states." + +"I admit that, but it can confiscate the property of traitors. Every +large slave-holder is to-day, at heart, a traitor. If this movement goes +on, you will commit overt acts against the government, and in +self-defence it will punish treason by taking from you the means of +future mischief." + +"The Republicans and Abolitionists might do that if they had the power, +but nearly one-half of the North is on our side, and will not fight us." + +"Perhaps so; but if _I_ had this thing to manage, I would put you down +without fighting." + +"How would you do it--by preaching abolition where even the niggers +would mob you? There's not a slave in all South Carolina but would shoot +Garrison or Greeley on sight." + +"That may be, but if so, it is because you keep them in ignorance. Build +a free-school at every cross-road, and teach the poor whites, and what +would become of slavery? If these people were on a par with the farmers +of New England, would it last for an hour? Would they not see that it +stands in the way of their advancement, and vote it out of existence as +a nuisance?" + +"Yes, perhaps they would; but the school-houses are not at the +cross-roads, and, thank God, they will not be there in this generation." + +"The greater the pity; but that which will not flourish alongside of a +school-house, cannot, in the nature of things, outlast this century. Its +time must soon come." + +"Enough for the day is the evil thereof. I'll risk the future of +slavery, if the South, in a body, goes out of the Union." + +"In other words, you'll shut out schools and knowledge, in order to keep +slavery in existence. The Abolitionists claim it to be a relic of +barbarism, and you admit it could not exist with general education among +the people." + +"Of course it could not. If Sandy, for instance, knew he were as good a +man as I am--and he would be if he were educated--do you suppose he +would vote as I tell him, go and come at my bidding, and live on my +charity? No, sir! give a man knowledge, and, however poor he may be, +he'll act for himself." + +"Then free-schools and general education would destroy slavery?" + +"Of course they would. The few cannot rule when the many know their +rights. If the poor whites realized that slavery kept them poor, would +they not vote it down? But the South and the world are a long way off +from general education. When it comes to that, we shall need no laws, +and no slavery, for the millennium will have arrived." + +"I'm glad you think slavery will not exist during the millennium," I +replied, good-humoredly; "but how is it that you insist the negro is +naturally inferior to the white, and still admit that the 'white trash,' +are far below the black slaves?" + +"Education makes the difference. We educate the negro enough to make him +useful to us; but the poor white man knows nothing. He can neither read +nor write, and not only that, he is not trained to any useful +employment. Sandy, here, who is a fair specimen of the tribe, obtains +his living just like an Indian, by hunting, fishing, and stealing, +interspersed with nigger-catching. His whole wealth consists of two +hounds and pups; his house--even the wooden trough his miserable +children eat from--belongs to me. If he didn't catch a runaway-nigger +once in a while, he wouldn't see a dime from one year to another." + +"Then you have to support this man and his family?" + +"Yes, what I don't give him he steals. Half a dozen others poach on me +in the same way." + +"Why don't you set them at work?" + +"They can't be made to work. I have hired them time and again, hoping to +make something of them, but I never got one to work more than half a day +at a time. It's their nature to lounge and to steal." + +"Then why do you keep them about you?" + +"Well, to be candid, their presence is of use in keeping the blacks in +subordination, and they are worth all they cost me, because I control +their votes." + +"I thought the blacks were said to be entirely contented?" + +"No, not contented. I do not claim that. I only say that they are unfit +for freedom. I might cite a hundred instances in which it has been their +ruin." + +"I have not heard of one. It seems strange to me that a man who can +support another cannot support himself." + +"Oh! no, it's not at all strange. The slave has hands, and when the +master gives him brains, he works well enough; but to support himself he +needs both hands and brains, and he has only hands. I'll give you a case +in point: At Wilmington, N. C., some years ago, there lived a negro by +the name of Jack Campbell. He was a slave, and was employed, before the +river was deepened so as to admit of the passage of large vessels up to +the town, in lightering cargoes to the wharves. He hired his time of his +master, and carried on business on his own account. Every one knew him, +and his character for honesty, sobriety, and punctuality stood so high +that his word was considered among merchants as good as that of the +first business-men of the place. Well, Jack's wife and children were +free, and he finally took it into his head to be free himself. He +arranged with his master to purchase himself within a specified time, at +eight hundred dollars, and he was to deposit his earnings in the hands +of a certain merchant till they reached the required sum. He went on, +and in three years had accumulated nearly seven hundred dollars, when +his owner failed in business. As the slave has no right of property, +Jack's earnings belonged by law to his master, and they were attached by +the Northern creditors (mark that, _by Northern creditors_), and taken +to pay the master's debts. Jack, too, was sold. His new owner also +consented to his buying himself, at about the price previously agreed +on. Nothing discouraged, he went to work again. Night and day he toiled, +and it surprised every one to see so much energy and firmness of +purpose in a negro. At last, after four more years of labor, he +accomplished his purpose, and received his free-papers. He had worked +seven years--as long as Jacob toiled for Rachel--for his freedom, and +like the old patriarch he found himself cheated at last. I was present +when he received his papers from his owner--a Mr. William H. Lippitt, +who still resides at Wilmington--and I shall never forget the ecstasy of +joy which he showed on the occasion. He sung and danced, and laughed, +and wept, till my conscience smote me for holding my own niggers, when +freedom might give them so much happiness. Well, he went off that day +and treated some friends, and for three days afterward lay in the +gutter, the entreaties of his wife and children having no effect on him. +He swore he was free, and would do as he 'd---- pleased.' He had +previously been a class-leader in the church, but after getting his +freedom he forsook his previous associates, and spent his Sundays and +evenings in a bar-room. He neglected his business; people lost +confidence in him, and step by step he went down, till in five years he +sunk into a wretched grave. That was the effect of freedom on _him_, and +it would be the same on all of his race." + +"It is clear," I replied, "_he_ could not bear freedom, but that does +not prove he might not have 'endured' it if he had never been a slave. +His overjoy at obtaining liberty, after so long a struggle for it, led +to his excesses and his ruin. According to your view, neither the black +nor the poor white is competent to take care of himself. The Almighty, +therefore, has laid upon _you_ a triple burden; you not only have to +provide for yourself and your children, but for two races beneath you, +the black and the clay-eater. The poor nigger has a hard time, but it +seems to me you have a harder one." + +"Well, it's a fact, we do. I often think that if it wasn't for the color +and the odor, I'd willingly exchange places with my man Jim." + +The Colonel made this last remark in a half-serious, half-comic way, +that excited my risibilities, but before I could reply, the carriage +stopped, and Jim, opening the door, announced: + +"We's har, massa, and de prayin' am gwine on." + +[Footnote I: The foregoing statistics are correct. That small number of +slave-holders sustains the system of slavery, and has caused this +terrible rebellion. They are, almost to a man, rebels and secessionists, +and we may cover the South with armies, and keep a file of soldiers upon +every plantation, and not smother this insurrection, unless we break +down the power of that class. Their wealth gives them their power, and +their wealth is in their slaves. Free their negroes by an act of +emancipation, or confiscation, and the rebellion will crumble to pieces +in a day. Omit to do it, and it will last till doomsday. + +The power of this dominant class once broken, with landed property at +the South more equally divided, a new order of things will arise there. +Where now, with their large plantations, not one acre in ten is tilled, +a system of small farms will spring into existence, and the whole +country be covered with cultivation. The six hundred thousand men who +have gone there to fight our battles, will see the amazing fertility of +the Southern soil--into which the seed is thrown and springs up without +labor into a bountiful harvest--and many of them, if slavery is crushed +out, will remain there. Thus a new element will be introduced into the +South, an element that will speedily make it a loyal, prosperous, and +_intelligent_ section of the Union. + +I would interfere with no one's rights, but a rebel in arms against his +country has no rights; all that he has "is confiscate." Will the loyal +people of the North submit to be ground to the earth with taxes to pay +the expenditures of a war, brought upon them by these Southern +oligarchists, while the traitors are left in undisturbed possession of +every thing, and even their slaves are exempted from taxation? It were +well that our legislators should ask this question now, and not wait +till it's asked of them by THE PEOPLE.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE COUNTRY CHURCH. + + +Had we not been absorbed in conversation, we might have discovered, some +time previous to our arrival at the church door, that the services had +commenced, for the preacher was shouting at the top of his lungs. He +evidently thought the Lord either a long way off, or very hard of +hearing. Not wishing to disturb the congregation while at their +devotions, we loitered near the doorway until the prayer was over, and +in the mean time I glanced around the vicinity. + +The "meeting-house," of large unhewn logs, was a story and a half in +height, and about large enough to seat comfortably a congregation of two +hundred persons. It was covered with shingles, with a roof projecting +some four feet over the walls, and was surmounted at the front gable by +a tower, about twelve feet square. This also was built of logs, and +contained a bell "to call the erring to the house of prayer," though, +unfortunately, all of that character thereabouts dwelt beyond the sound +of its voice. The building was located at a cross-roads, about equally +distant from two little hamlets (the nearer nine miles off), neither of +which was populous enough to singly support a church and a preacher. The +trees in the vicinity had been thinned out, so that carriages could +drive into the woods, and find under the branches shelter from the rain +and the sun; and at the time of my visit, about twenty vehicles of all +sorts and descriptions, from the Colonel's magnificent barouche to the +rude cart drawn by a single two-horned quadruped, filled the openings. +There was a rustic simplicity about the whole scene that charmed me. The +low, rude church, the grand old pines that towered in leafy magnificence +around it, and the soft, low wind, that sung a morning hymn in the +green, wavy woods, seemed to lift the soul up to Him who inhabiteth +eternity, but who deigns to visit the erring children of men. + +The preacher was about to "line out" one of Watts' psalms when we +entered the church, but he stopped short on perceiving us, and, bowing +low, waited till we had taken our seats. This action, and the +sycophantic air which accompanied it, disgusted me, and turning to the +Colonel, I asked, jocosely: + +"Do the chivalry exact so much obsequiousness from the country clergy? +Do you require to be bowed up to heaven?" + +In a low voice, but high enough, I thought, for the preacher to hear, +for we sat very near, the Colonel replied: + +"He's a renegade Yankee--the meanest thing on earth." + +I said no more, but entered into the services as seriously as the +strange gymnastic performances of the preacher would allow of my doing; +for he was quite as amusing as a circus clown. + +With the exception of the Colonel's, and a few other pews in the +vicinity of the pulpit, all of the seats were mere rough benches, +without backs, and placed so closely together as to interfere +uncomfortably with the knees of the sitters. The house was full, and the +congregation as attentive as any I ever saw. All classes were there; the +black serving-man away off by the doorway, the poor white a little +higher up, the small turpentine-farmer a little higher still, and the +wealthy planter, of the class to which the Colonel belonged, on "the +highest seats of the synagogue," and in close proximity to the preacher. + +The "man of prayer" was a tall, lean, raw-boned, angular-built +individual, with a thin, sharp, hatchet-face, a small sunken eye, and +long, loose hair, brushed back and falling over the collar of a seedy +black coat. He looked like a dilapidated scare-crow, and his pale, +sallow face, and cracked, wheezy voice, were in odd and comic keeping +with his discourse. His text was: "Speak unto the children of Israel, +that they go forward." And addressing the motley gathering of poor +whites and small planters before him as the "chosen people of God," he +urged them to press on in the mad course their state had taken. It was a +political harangue, a genuine stump-speech, but its frequent allusions +to the auditory as the legitimate children of the old patriarch, and the +rightful heirs of all the promises, struck me as out of place in a +rural district of South Carolina, however appropriate it might have been +in one of the large towns, before an audience of merchants and traders, +who are, almost to a man, Jews. + +The services over, the congregation slowly left the church. Gathered in +groups in front of the "meeting-house," they were engaged in a general +discussion of the affairs of the day, when the Colonel and I emerged +from the doorway. The better class greeted my host with considerable +cordiality, but I noticed that the well-to-do small planters, who +composed the greater part of the assemblage, received him with decided +coolness. These people were the "North County folks," on whom the +overseer had invoked a hanging. Except that their clothing was more +uncouth and ill-fashioned, and their faces generally less "cute" of +expression, they did not materially differ in appearance from the rustic +citizens who may be seen on any pleasant Sunday gathered around the +doorways of the rural meeting-houses of New England. + +One of them, who was leaning against a tree, quietly lighting a pipe, +was a fair type of the whole, and as he took a part in the scene which +followed, I will describe him. He was tall and spare, with a swinging, +awkward gait, and a wiry, athletic frame. His hair, which he wore almost +as long as a woman's, was coarse and black, and his face strongly +marked, and of the precise color of two small rivulets of tobacco-juice +that escaped from the corners of his mouth. He had an easy, +self-possessed manner, and a careless, devil-may-care way about him, +that showed he had measured his powers, and was accustomed to "rough it" +with the world. He wore a broadcloth coat of the fashion of some years +ago, but his waistcoat and nether garments of the common, reddish +homespun, were loose and ill-shaped, as if their owner did not waste +thought on such trifles. His hat, as shockingly bad as Horace Greeley's, +had the inevitable broad brim, and fell over his face like a +calash-awning over a shop-window. As I approached him he extended his +hand with a pleasant "How are ye, stranger?" + +"Very well," I replied, returning his grasp with equal warmth, "how are +you?" + +"Right smart, right smart, thank ye. You're----" the rest of the +sentence was cut short by a gleeful exclamation from Jim, who, mounted +on the box of the carriage, which was drawn up on the cleared plot in +front of the meeting-house, waved an open newspaper over his head, and +called out, as he caught sight of the Colonel: + +"Great news, massa--great news from Charls'on!" + +(The darky, while we were in church, had gone to the post-office, some +four miles away, and got the Colonel's mail, which consisted of letters +from his New York and Charleston factors, the Charleston _Courier_ and +_Mercury_ and the New York _Journal of Commerce_. The latter sheet, at +the date of which I am writing, was in wide circulation at the South, +its piety (!) and its politics being then calculated with mathematical +precision for secession latitudes.) + +"What is it, Jim?" shouted his master. "Give it to us." + +The darky had somehow learned to read, but holding the paper at arm's +length, and throwing himself into a theatrical attitude, he cried out, +with any amount of gesticulation: + +"De news am, massa, and gemmen and ladies, dat de ole fort fore +Charls'on hab ben devacuated by Major Andersin and de sogers, and dey +hab stole 'way in de dark night and gone to Sumter, whar dey can't be +took; and dat de ole Gubner hab got out a procdemation dat all dat don't +lub de Aberlishen Yankees shill cum up dar and clar 'em out; and de +paper say dat lots ob sogers hab cum from Georgi and Al'bama, and 'way +down Souf, to help 'em. Dis am w'at de _Currer_ say," he continued, +holding the paper up to his eyes and reading: "Major Andersin, ob de +United States army hab 'chieved de 'stinction ob op'ning cibil war +'tween American citizens; he hab desarted Moulfrie, and by false +fretexts hab took dat ole Garrison and all his millinery stores to Fort +Sumter." + +"Get down, you d----d nigger," said the Colonel, laughing, and mounting +the carriage-box beside him. "You can't read. Old Garrison isn't +there--he's the d----d Northern Abolitionist." + +"I knows dat, Cunnel, but see dar," replied Jim, holding the paper out +to his master, "don't dat say he'm dar? It'm him dat make all de +trubble. P'raps dis nig can't read, but ef dat aint readin' I'd like to +know it!" + +"Clear out," said the Colonel, now actually roaring with laughter; "it's +the garrison of soldiers that the _Courier_ speaks of, not the +Abolitionist." + +"Read it yoursef, den, massa, I don't seed it dat way." + +Jim was altogether wiser than he appeared, but while equally as well +pleased with the news as his master, he was so for an entirely different +reason. In the crisis which these tidings announced, he saw hope for his +race. + +The Colonel then read the paper to the assemblage. The news was received +with a variety of manifestations by the auditory, the larger portion, I +thought, hearing it, as I did, with sincere regret. + +"Now is the time to stand by the state, my friends," said my host, as he +finished the reading. "I hope every man here is ready to do his duty by +old South Carolina." + +"Yes, _sar_! if she does _har_ duty by the Union. We'll go to the death +for har just so long as she's in the right, but not a d----d step if +she arn't," said the long-legged native I have introduced to the reader. + +"And what have _you_ to say about South Carolina? What does she owe to +_you_?" asked the Colonel, turning on the speaker with a proud and angry +look. + +"More, a darned sight, than she'll pay, if ye cursed 'ristocrats run her +to h---- as ye'r doin'. She owes me, and 'bout ten as likely niggers as +ye ever seed, a living, and we've d----d hard work to get it out on +her _now_, let alone what's comin'." + +"Don't talk to me, you ill-mannered cur," said my host, turning his back +on his neighbor, and directing his attention to the remainder of the +assemblage. + +"Look har, Cunnel," replied the native, "if ye'll jest come down from +thar, and throw 'way yer shootin'-irons, I'll give ye the all-firedest +thrashing ye ever did get." + +The Colonel gave no further heed to him, but the speaker mounted the +steps of the meeting-house and harangued the natives in a strain of rude +and passionate declamation, in which my host, the aristocrats, and the +secessionists came in for about equal shares of abuse. Seeing that the +native (who, it appeared, was quite popular as a stump-speaker) was +drawing away his audience, the Colonel descended from the driver's seat, +and motioning for me to follow, entered the carriage. Turning the horses +homeward, we rode off at a brisk pace. + +"Not much secession about that fellow, Colonel," I remarked, after a +while. + +"No," he replied, "he's a North Carolina 'corn-cracker,' one of the +ugliest specimens of humanity extant. They're as thick as fleas in this +part of the state, and about all of them are traitors." + +"Traitors to the state, but true to the Union. As far as I've seen, that +is the case with the middling class throughout the South." "Well, it +may be, but they generally go with us, and I reckon they will now, when +it comes to the rub. Those in the towns--the traders and +mechanics--will, certain; its only these half-way independent planters +that ever kick the traces. By the way," continued my host, in a jocose +way, "what did you think of the preaching?" + +"I thought it very poor. I'd rather have heard the stump-speech, had it +not been a little too personal on you." + +"Well, it was the better of the two," he replied, laughing, "but the old +devil can't afford any thing good, he don't get enough pay." + +"Why, how much does he get?" + +"Only a hundred dollars." + +"That _is_ small. How does the man live?" + +"Well, he teaches the daughter of my neighbor, Captain Randall, who +believes in praying, and gives him his board. Randall thinks that +enough. The rest of the parish can't afford to pay him, and I _wont_." + +"Why wont you?" + +"Because he's a d----d old hypocrite. He believes in the Union with all +his heart--at least so Randall, who's a sincere Union man, says--and +yet, he never sees me at meeting but he preaches a red-hot secession +sermon." + +"He wants to keep you in the faith," I replied. + +A few more miles of sandy road took us to the mansion, where we found +dinner in waiting. Meeting "Massa Tommy"--who had staid at home with +his mother--as we entered the doorway, the Colonel asked after the +overseer. + +"He seems well enough, sir; I believe he's coming the possum over +mother." + +"I'll bet on it, Tommy; but he wont fool you and me, will he, my boy?" +said his father, slapping him affectionately on the back. + +After dinner I went, with my host to the room of the wounded man. His +head was still bound up, and he was groaning piteously, as if in great +pain; but I thought there was too fresh a color in his face to be +entirely natural in one who had lost so much blood, and been so severely +wounded as he affected to have been. + +The Colonel mentioned our suspicions to Madam P----, and suggested that +the shackles should be put on him. + +"Oh! no, don't do that; it would be inhuman," said the lady; "the color +is the effect of fever. If you fear he is plotting to get away, let him +be watched." + +The Colonel consented, but with evident reluctance, to the arrangement, +and retired to his room to take a _siesta_, while I lit a segar, and +strolled out to the negro quarters. + +Making my way through the woods to the scene of the morning's +jollification, I found about a hundred darkies gathered around Jim, on +the little plot in front of old Lucy's cabin. He had evidently been +giving them the news. Pausing when I came near, he exclaimed: + +"Har's Massa K----, he'll say dat I tells you de trufh;" and turning to +me, he said: "Massa K----, dese darkies say dat Massa Andersin am an +ab'lisherner, and dat none but de ab'lisherners will fight for de Union; +am dat so, sar?" + +"No, I reckon not, Jim; I think the whole North would fight for it if it +were necessary." + +"Am dat so, massa? am dat so?" eagerly inquired a dozen of the darkies; +"and am dar great many folks at de Norf--more dan dar am down har?" + +"Yas, you fools, didn't I tell you dat?" said Jim, as I, not exactly +relishing the idea of preaching treason, in the Colonel's absence, to +his slaves, hesitated to reply. "Haint I tole you," he continued, "dat +in de big city ob New York dar'm more folks dan in all Car'lina? I'se +been dar, and I knows; and Massa K----'ll tell you dat dey--most on +'em--feel mighty sorry for de brack man." + +"No he wont," I replied, "and besides, Jim, you should not talk in this +way before me; I might tell your master." + +"No! you wont do dat; I knows you wont, massa. Scipio tole us he'd trust +his bery life wid _you_." + +"Well, perhaps he might; it's true I would not injure you;" saying that, +I turned away, though my curiosity was greatly excited to hear more. + +I wandered farther into the woods, and a half-hour found me near one of +the turpentine distilleries. Seating myself on a rosin barrel, I quietly +finished my segar, and was about lighting another, when Jim made his +appearance. + +"Beg pardon, Massa K----," said the negro, bowing very low, "but I wants +to ax you one or two tings, ef you please, sar." + +"Well," I replied, "I'll tell you any thing that I ought to." + +"Der yer tink, den, massa, dat dey'll git to fightin' at Charl'son?" + +"Yes, judging by the tone of the Charleston papers you've read to-day, I +think they will." + +"And der yer tink dat de rest ob de Souf will jine wid Souf Car'lina, if +she go at it fust?" + +"Yes, Jim, I'm inclined to think so." + +"I hard you say to massa, dat ef dey goes to war, 'twill free all de +niggers--der you raily b'lieve dat, sar?" + +"_You_ heard me say that; how did you hear it?" I exclaimed, in +surprise. + +"Why, sar, de front winder ob de carriage war down jess a crack, so I +hard all you said." + +"Did you let it down on purpose?" + +"P'r'aps so, massa. Whot's de use ob habin' ears, ef you don't har?" + +"Well, I suppose not much; and you tell all you hear to the other +negroes?" + +"I reckon so, massa," said the darky, looking very demure. + +"That's the use of having a tongue, eh?" I replied, laughing. + +"Dat's it 'zactly, massa." + +"Well, Jim, I do think the slaves will be finally freed; but it will +cost more white blood to do it than all the niggers in creation are +worth. Do you think the darkies would fight for their freedom?" + +"Fight, sar!" exclaimed the negro, straightening up his fine form, while +his usual good-natured look passed from his face, and gave way to an +expression that made him seem more like an incarnate devil than a human +being; "FIGHT, sar; gib dem de chance, and den see." + +"Why are you discontented? You have been at the North, and you know the +blacks are as well off as the majority of the poor laboring men there." + +"You says dat to _me_, Massa K----; you don't say it to de _Cunnel_. We +am _not_ so well off as de pore man at de Norf! You knows dat, sar. He +hab his wife and chil'ren, and his own home. What hab we, sar? No wife, +no chil'ren, no home; all am de white man's. Der yer tink we wouldn't +fight to be free?" and he pressed his teeth together, and there passed +again over his face the same look it wore the moment before. + +"Come, come, Jim, this may be true of your race; but it don't apply to +yourself. Your master is kind and indulgent to _you_." + +"He am kine to me, sar; he orter be," said the negro, the savage +expression coming again into his eyes. For a moment he hesitated; then, +taking a step toward me, he placed his face down to mine, and hissed out +these words, every syllable seeming to come from the very bottom of his +being. "I tell you he orter be, sar, FUR I AM HIS OWN FATHER'S SON!" + +"His brother!" I exclaimed, springing to my feet, and looking at him in +blank amazement. "It can't be true!" + +"It am true, sar--as true as there's a hell! His father had my +mother--when he got tired of her, he sold her Souf. _I war too young den +eben to know her!_" + +"This is horrible--too horrible!" I said. + +"It am slavery, sar! Shouldn't we be contented?" replied the negro with +a grim smile. Drawing, then, a large spring-knife from his pocket, he +waved it above his head, and added: "Ef I had de hull white race +dar--right dar under dat knife, don't yer tink I'd take all dar +lives--all at one blow--to be FREE!" + +"And yet you refused to run away when the Abolitionists tempted you, at +the North. Why didn't you go then?" + +"'Cause I had promised, massa." + +"Promised the Colonel before you went?" + +"No, sar; he neber axed me; but _I_ can't tell you no more. P'raps +Scipio will, ef you ax him." + +"Oh! I see; you're in that league of which Scip is a leader. You'll get +into trouble, _sure_," I replied, in a quick, decided tone, which +startled him. + +"You tole Scipio dat, sar, and what did _he_ tell you?" + +"That he didn't care for his life." + +"No more do I, sar," said the negro, turning on his heel with a proud, +almost defiant gesture, and starting to go. + +"A moment, Jim. You are very imprudent; never say these things to any +other mortal; promise me that." + +"You'se bery good, massa, bery good. Scipio say you's true, and he'm +allers right. I ortent to hab said what I hab; but sumhow, sar, dat news +brought it all up _har_" (laying his hand on his breast), "and it wud +come out." + +The tears filled his eyes as he said this, and turning away without +another word, he disappeared among the trees. + +I was almost stunned by this strange revelation, but the more I +reflected on it, the more probable it appeared. Now too, that my +thoughts were turned in that direction, I called to mind a certain +resemblance between the colonel and the negro that I had not heeded +before. Though one was a high-bred Southern gentleman, claiming an old +and proud descent, and the other a poor African slave, they had some +striking peculiarities which might indicate a common origin. The +likeness was not in their features, for Jim's face was of the +unmistakable negro type, and his skin of a hue so dark that it seemed +impossible he could be the son of a white man (I afterward learned that +his mother was a black of the deepest dye), but it was in their form and +general bearing. They had the same closely-knit and sinewy frame, the +same erect, elastic step, the same rare blending of good-natured ease +and dignity--to which I have already alluded as characteristic of the +Colonel--and in the wild burst of passion that accompanied the negro's +disclosure of their relationship, I saw the same fierce, unbridled +temper, whose outbreaks I had witnessed in my host. + +What a strange fate was theirs! Two brothers--the one the owner of three +hundred slaves, and the first man of his district--the other, a bonded +menial, and so poor that the very bread he ate, and the clothes he wore, +were another's! + +I passed the remainder of the afternoon in my room, and did not again +meet my host until the family assembled at the tea-table. Jim then +occupied his accustomed seat behind the Colonel's chair, and that +gentleman was in more than his usual spirits, though Madam P----, I +thought, wore a sad and absent look. + +The conversation rambled over a wide range of subjects, and was carried +on mainly by the Colonel and myself; but toward the close of the meal +the lady said to me: + +"Mr. K----, Sam and young Junius are to be buried this evening; if you +have never seen a negro funeral, perhaps you'd like to attend." + +"I will be happy to accompany you, Madam, if you go," I replied, + +"Thank you," said the lady. + +"Pshaw! Alice, you'll not go into the woods on so cold a night as this!" +said the Colonel. + +"Yes, I think I ought to. Our people will expect me." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE NEGRO FUNERAL. + + +It was about an hour after nightfall when we took our way to the +burial-ground. The moon had risen, but the clouds which gathered when +the sun went down, covered its face, and were fast spreading their +thick, black shadows over the little collection of negro-houses. Near +two new-made graves were gathered some two hundred men and women, as +dark as the night that was setting around them. As we entered the circle +the old preacher pointed to seats reserved for us, and the sable crowd +fell back a few paces, as if, even in the presence of death, they did +not forget the difference between their race and ours. + +Scattered here and there among the trees, torches of lightwood threw a +wild and fitful light over the little cluster of graves, revealing the +long, straight boxes of rough pine that held the remains of the two +negroes, and lighting up the score or two of russet mounds where slept +the dusky kinsmen who had gone before them. + +The simple head-boards that marked these humble graves chronicled +no bad biography or senseless rhyme, and told no false tales of +lives that might better not have been, but "SAM, AGE 22;" "JAKE'S +ELIZA;" "AUNT SUE;" "AUNT LUCY'S TOM;" "JOE;" and other like +inscriptions, scratched in rough characters on the unplaned boards, were +all the records there. The rude tenants had passed away and "left no +sign;" their birth, their age, their deeds, were alike unknown--unknown, +but not forgotten! for are they not written in the book of His +remembrance--and when he counteth up his jewels, may not some of them be +there? + +The queer, grotesque dress, and sad, earnest looks of the black group; +the red, fitful glare of the blazing pine, and the white faces of the +tapped trees, gleaming through the gloom like so many sheeted ghosts +gathered to some death-carnival, made up a strange, wild scene--the +strangest and the wildest I had ever witnessed. + +The covers of the rude coffins were not yet nailed down, and when we +arrived, the blacks were, one by one, taking a last look at the faces of +the dead. Soon, Junius, holding his weeping wife by the hand, approached +the smaller of the two boxes, which held all that was left of their +first-born. The mother, kneeling by its side, kissed again and again the +cold, shrunken lips, and sobbed as if her heart would break; and the +strong frame of the father shook convulsively, as he choked down the +great sorrow which welled up in his throat, and turned away from his boy +forever. As he did so, old Pompey said: + +"Don't grebe, June, he'm whar de wicked cease from trubling, whar de +weary am at rest." + +"I knows it; I knows it, Uncle. I knows de Lord am bery good to take +'im 'way; but why did he take de young chile, and leab de ole man har?" + +"De little sapling dat grow in de shade may die while it'm young; de +great tree dat grow in de sun must lib till he'm rotted down." + +These words were the one drop wanting to make the great grief which was +swelling in the negro's heart overflow. Giving one low, wild cry, he +folded his wife in his arms, and burst into a paroxysm of tears. + +"Come now, my chil'ren," said the old preacher, kneeling down, "let us +pray." + +The whole assemblage then knelt on the cold ground, while the old man +prayed, and a more sincere, heart-touching prayer never went up from +human lips to that God "who hath made of one blood all nations that +dwell on the face of the earth." Though clothed in rags, and in feeble +age at the mercy of a cruel taskmaster, that old slave was richer far +than his master. His simple faith, which saw through the darkness around +him into the clear and radiant light of the unseen day, was of far more +worth than all the wealth and glory of this world. I know not why it +was, but as I looked at him in the dim red light, which fell on his bent +form and cast a strange halo around his upturned face, I thought of +Stephen, as he gazed upward and behold heaven open, and "the Son of Man +seated at the right hand of the throne of God." + +Rising from his knees, the old preacher turned slowly to the black mass +that encircled him, and said: + +"My dear brederin and sisters, de Lord say dat 'de dust shill return to +de earth as it war, and de spirit to Him who gabe it,' and now, 'cordin' +to dat text, my friends, we'm gwine to put dis dust (pointing to the two +coffins) in de groun' whar it cum from, and whar it shill lay till de +bressed Lord blow de great trumpet on de resumrection mornin'. De +spirits of our brudders har de Lord hub already took to hisseff. 'Our +brudders,' I say, my chil'ren, 'case ebery one dat de Lord hab made am +brudders to you and to me, whedder dey'm bad or good, white or brack. + +"Dis young chile, who hab gone 'way and leff his pore fader and mudder +suffrin' all ober wid grief, _he_ hab gone to de Lord, _shore_. _He_ +neber done no wrong; he allers 'bey'd his massa, and neber said no hard +word, nor found no fault, not eben w'en de cruel, bad oberseer put de +load so heaby on him dat it kill him. Yes, my brederin and sisters, _he_ +hab gone to de Lord; gone whar dey don't work in de swamps; whar de +little chil'ren don't tote de big shingles fru de water up to dar knees. +No swamps am dar; no shingles am dar; dey doan't need 'em, 'case dar de +hous'n haint builded wid hands, for dey'm all builded by de Lord, and +gib'n to de good niggers, ready-made, and for nuffin'. De Lord don't +say, like as ded massa say, 'Pomp, dar's de logs and de shingles' (dey'm +allers pore shingles, de kine dat woant sell; but massa say, 'dey'm good +'nuff for niggers,' ef de roof do leak). De Lord doan't say: 'Now, Pomp, +you go to work and build you' own house; but mine dat you does you, +task all de time, jess de same!' But de Lord--de bressed Lord--He say, +w'en we goes up dar, 'Dar, Pomp, dar's de house dat I'se been a buildin' +for you eber sence 'de foundation ob de worle.' It'm done now, and you +kin cum in; your room am jess ready, and ole Sal and de chil'ren dat I +tuk 'way from you eber so long ago, and dat you mourned ober and cried +ober as ef you'd neber see dem agin, dey'm dar too, all on 'em, a +waitin' for you. Dey'm been fixin' up de house 'spressly for you all +dese long years, and dey'b got it all nice and comfible now.' Yas, my +friends, glory be to Him, dat's what our Heabenly massa say, and who ob +you wouldn't hab sich a massa as dat? A massa dat doan't set you no hard +tasks, and dat gibs you 'nuff to eat, and time to rest and to sing and +to play! A massa dat doan't keep no Yankee oberseer to foller you 'bout +wid de big free-lashed whip; but dat leads you hisseff to de green +pastures and de still waters; and w'en you'm a-faint and a-tired, and +can't go no furder, dat takes you up in his arms, and carries you in his +bosom! What pore darky am dar dat wudn't hab sich a massa? What one ob +us, eben ef he had to work jess so hard as we works now, wudn't tink +heseff de happiest nigger in de hull worle, ef he could hab sich hous'n +to lib in as dem? dem hous'n 'not made wid hands, eternal in de +heabens!' + +"But glory, glory to de Lord! my chil'ren, wese all got dat massa, ef we +only knowd it, and He'm buildin' dem hous'n up dar, now, for ebery one +ob us dat am tryin' to be good and to lub one anoder. _For ebery one ob +us_, I say, and we kin all git de fine hous'n ef we try. + +"Recolember, too, my brudders, dat our great Massa am rich, bery rich, +and he kin do all he promise. _He_ doant say, w'en wese worked ober time +to git some little ting to comfort de sick chile, 'I knows, Pomp, you'se +done de work, an' I did 'gree to gib you de pay; but de fact am, Pomp, +de frost hab come so sudden dis yar, dat I'se loss de hull ob de sebenfh +dippin', and I'se pore, so pore, de chile muss go widout dis time.' No, +no, brudders, de bressed Lord He neber talk so. He neber break, 'case de +sebenfh dip am shet off, or 'case de price of turpentime gwo down at de +Norf. He neber sell his niggers down Souf, 'case he lose his money on he +hoss-race. No, my chil'ren, our HEABENLY Massa am rich, RICH, I say. He +own all dis worle, and all de oder worles dat am shinin' up dar in de +sky. He own dem all; but he tink more ob one ob you, more ob one ob +you--pore, ign'rant brack folks dat you am--dan ob all dem great worles! +Who wouldn't belong to sich a Massa as dat? Who wouldn't be his +nigger--not his slave--He doant hab no slaves--but his chile; and 'ef +his chile, den his heir, de heir ob God, and de jined heir wid de +bressed Jesus.' O my chil'ren! tink of dat! de heir ob de Lord ob all de +'arth and all de sky! What white man kin be more'n dat? + +"Don't none ob you say you'm too wicked to be His chile; 'ca'se you +haint. He lubs de wicked ones de best, 'ca'se dey need his lub de most. +Yas, my brudders, eben de wickedest, ef dey's only sorry, and turn roun' +and leab off dar bad ways, he lub de bery best ob all, 'ca'se he'm all +lub and pity. + +"Sam, har, my chil'ren, war wicked, but don't _we_ pity him; don't _we_ +tink he hab a hard time, and don't we tink de bad oberseer, who'm layin' +dar in de house jess ready to gwo and answer for it--don't we tink he +gabe Sam bery great probincation? + +"Dat's so," said a dozen of the auditors. + +"Den don't you 'spose dat de bressed Lord know all dat, and dat He pity +Sam too. If we pore sinners feel sorrer for him, haint de Lord's heart +bigger'n our'n, and haint he more sorrer for him? Don't you tink dat ef +He lub and pity de bery worse whites, dat He lub and pity pore Sam, who +warn't so bery bad, arter all? Don't you tink He'll gib Sam a house? +P'r'aps' 'twont be one ob de fine hous'n, but wont it be a comfible +house, dat hain't no cracks, and one dat'll keep out de wind and de +rain? And don't you s'pose, my chil'ren, dat it'll be big 'nuff for +Jule, too--dat pore, repentin' chile, whose heart am clean broke, 'ca'se +she hab broughten dis on Sam--and won't de Lord--de good Lord--de +tender-hearted Lord--won't He touch Sam's heart, and coax him to forgib +Jule, and to take her inter his house up dar? I knows he will, my +chil'ren. I knows----" + +The old negro paused abruptly; there was a quick swaying in the black +crowd--a hasty rush--a wild cry--and Sam's wife burst into the open +space around the preacher, and fell at his feet. Throwing her arms +wildly about him, she shrieked out: + +"Say dat agin, Uncle Pomp! for de lub ob de good Lord, oh! say dat +agin!" + +Bending down, the old man raised her gently in his arms, and folding her +there, as he would have folded a child, he said, in a voice thick with +emotion: + +"It am so, Juley. I knows dat Sam will forgib you, and take you wid him +up dar." + +Fastening her arms frantically around Pompey's neck, the poor woman +burst into a paroxysm of grief, while the old man's tears fell in great +drops on her upturned face, and many a dark cheek was wet, as with rain. + +The scene had lasted a few minutes, and I was turning away to hide the +emotion that fast filled my eyes, and was creeping up, with a choking +feeling, to my throat, when the Colonel, from the farther edge of the +group, called out: + +"Take that d---- d---- away--take her away, Pomp!" + +The old negro turned toward his master with a sad, grieved look, but +gave no heed to the words. + +"Take her away, some of you, I say," again cried the Colonel. "Pomp, you +mustn't keep these niggers all night in the cold." + +At the sound of her master's voice the metif woman fell to the ground as +if struck by a Minie-ball. Soon several negroes lifted her up to bear +her off; but she struggled violently, and rent the woods with her wild +cries for "one more look at Sam." + +"Look at him, you d---- d----; then go, and don't let me see you again." + +She threw herself on the face of the dead, and covered the cold lips +with her kisses; then she rose, and with a weak, uncertain step, +staggered out into the darkness. + +Was not the system which had so seared and hardened that man's heart, +begotten in the lowest hell? + +The old preacher said no more, but four stout negro men stepped forward, +nailed down the lids, and lowered the rough boxes into the ground. +Turning to Madam P----, I saw her face was red with weeping. She turned +to go as the first earth fell, with a dull, heavy sound, on the rude +coffins; and giving her my arm, I led her from the scene. + +As we walked slowly back to the house, a low wail--half a chant, half a +dirge--rose from the black crowd, and floated off on the still night +air, till it died away amid the far woods, in a strange, unearthly moan. +With that sad, wild music in our ears, we entered the mansion. + +As we seated ourselves by the bright wood-fire on the library hearth, +obeying a sudden impulse which I could not restrain, I said to Madam +P----: + +"The Colonel's treatment of that poor woman is inexplicable to me. Why +is he so hard with her? It is not in keeping with what I have seen of +his character." + +"The Colonel is a peculiar man," replied the lady. "Noble, generous, and +a true friend, he is also a bitter, implacable enemy. When he once +conceives a dislike, his feelings become even vindictive. Never having +had an ungratified wish, he does not know how to feel for the sorrows of +those beneath him. Sam, though a proud, headstrong, unruly character, +was a great favorite with him; he felt his death much; and as he +attributes it to Jule, he feels terribly bitter toward her. She will +have to be sold to get her out of his way, for he will _never_ forgive +her." + +It was some time before the Colonel joined us, and when at last he made +his appearance, he seemed in no mood for conversation. The lady soon +retired; but feeling unlike sleep, I took down a book from the shelves, +drew my chair near the fire, and fell to reading. The Colonel, too, was +deep in the newspapers, till, after a while, Jim entered the room: + +"I'se cum to ax ef you've nuffin more to-night, Cunnel?" said the negro. + +"No, nothing, Jim," replied his master; "but, stay--hadn't you better +sleep in front of Moye's door?" + +"Dunno, sar; jess as you say." + +"I think you'd better," returned the Colonel. + +"Yas, massa," and the darky left the apartment. + +The Colonel shortly rose, and bade me "good-night." I continued reading +till the clock struck eleven, when I laid the book aside and went to my +room. + +I lodged, as I have said before, on the first floor, and was obliged to +pass by the overseer's apartment in going to mine. Wrapped in his +blanket, and stretched at full length on the ground, Jim lay there, fast +asleep. I passed on, thinking of the wisdom of placing a tired negro on +guard over an acute and desperate Yankee. + +I rose in the morning with the sun, and had partly donned my clothing, +when I heard a loud uproar in the hall. Opening my door, I saw Jim +pounding vehemently at the Colonel's room, and looking as pale as is +possible with a person of his complexion. + +"What the d--l is the matter?" asked his master, who now, partly +dressed, stepped into the hall. + +"Moye hab gone, sar--he'm gone and took Firefly (my host's +five-thousand-dollar thorough-bred) wid him." + +For a moment the Colonel stood stupified; then, his face turning to a +cold, clayey white, he seized the black by the throat, and hurled him to +the floor. With his thick boot raised, he seemed about to dash out the +man's brains with its ironed heel, when, on the instant, the octoroon +woman rushed, in her night-clothes, from his room, and, with desperate +energy, pushed him aside, exclaiming: "What would you do? Remember WHO +HE IS!" + +The negro rose, and the Colonel, without a word, passed into his own +apartment. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE PURSUIT. + + +I sauntered out, after the events recorded in the last chapter, to +inhale the fresh air of the morning. A slight rain had fallen during the +night, and it still moistened the dead leaves which carpeted the woods, +making an extended walk out of the question; so, seating myself on the +trunk of a fallen tree, in the vicinity of the house, I awaited the hour +for breakfast. I had not remained there long before I heard the voices +of my host and Madam P---- on the front piazza: + +"I tell you, Alice, I cannot--must not do it. If I overlook this, the +discipline of the plantation is at an end." + +"Do what you please with him when you return," replied the lady, "but do +not chain him up, and leave me, at such a time, alone. You know Jim is +the only one I can depend on." + +"Well, have your own way. You know, my darling, I would not cause you a +moment's uneasiness, but I must follow up this d----d Moye." + +I was seated where I could hear, though I could not see the speakers, +but it was evident from the tone of the last remark, that an action +accompanied it quite as tender as the words. Being unwilling to +overhear more of a private conversation, I rose and approached them. + +"Ah! my dear fellow," said the Colonel, on perceiving me, "are you +stirring so early? I was about to send to your room to ask if you'll go +with me up the country. My d----d overseer has got away, and I must +follow him at once." + +"I'll go with pleasure," I replied. "Which way do you think Moye has +gone?" + +"The shortest cut to the railroad, probably; but old Caesar will track +him." + +A servant then announced breakfast--an early one having been prepared. +We hurried through the meal with all speed, and the other preparations +being soon over, were in twenty minutes in our saddles, and ready for +the journey. The mulatto coachman, with a third horse, was at the door, +ready to accompany us. As we mounted, the Colonel said to him: + +"Go and call Sam, the driver." + +The darky soon returned with the heavy, ugly-visaged black who had been +whipped, by Madam P----'s order, the day before. + +"Sam," said his master, "I shall be gone some days, and I leave the +field-work in your hands. Let me have a good account of you when I +return." + +"Yas, massa, you shill dat," replied the negro. + +"Put Jule--Sam's Jule--into the woods, and see that she does full +tasks," continued the Colonel. + +"Haint she wanted 'mong de nusses, massa?" + +"Put some one else there--give her field-work; she needs it." + +On large plantations the young children of the field-women are left with +them only at night, and are herded together during the day, in a +separate cabin, in charge of nurses. These nurses are feeble, sickly +women, or recent mothers; and the fact of Jule's being employed in that +capacity was evidence that she was unfit for outdoor labor. + +Madam P----, who was waiting on the piazza to see us off, seemed about +to remonstrate against this arrangement, but she hesitated a moment, and +in that moment we had bidden her "Good-bye," and galloped away. + +We were soon at the cabin of the negro-hunter, and the coachman, +dismounting, called him out. + +"Hurry up, hurry up," said the Colonel, as Sandy appeared, "we haven't a +moment to spare." + +"Jest so--jest so, Cunnel; I'll jine ye in a jiffin," replied he of the +reddish extremities. + +Emerging from the shanty with provoking deliberation--the impatience of +my host had infected me--the clay-eater slowly proceeded to mount the +horse of the negro, while his dirt-bedraggled wife, and clay-encrusted +children, followed close at his heels, the younger ones huddling around +for the tokens of paternal affection usual at parting. Whether it was +the noise they made, or their frightful aspect, I know not, but the +horse, a spirited animal, took fright on their appearance, and nearly +broke away from the negro, who was holding him. Seeing this, the Colonel +said: + +"Clear out, you young scare-crows. Into the house with you." + +"They arn't no more scare-crows than yourn, Cunnel J----," said the +mother, in a decidedly belligerent tone. "You may 'buse my old man--he +kin stand it--but ye shan't blackguard my young 'uns!" + +The Colonel laughed, and was about to make a good-natured reply, when +Sandy yelled out: + +"Gwo enter the house and shet up, ye---- ----." + +With this affectionate farewell, he turned his horse and led the way up +the road. + +The dog, who was a short distance in advance, soon gave a piercing howl, +and started off at the speed of a reindeer. He had struck the trail, and +urging our horses to their fastest speed, we followed. + +We were all well mounted, but the mare the Colonel had given me was a +magnificent animal, as fleet as the wind, and with a gait so easy that +her back seemed a rocking-chair. Saddle-horses at the South are trained +to the gallop--Southern riders not deeming it necessary that one's +breakfast should be churned into a Dutch cheese by a trotting nag, in +order that he may pass for a horseman. + +We had ridden on at a perfect break-neck pace for half an hour, when the +Colonel shouted to our companion: + +"Sandy, call the dog in; the horses wont last ten miles at this +gait--we've a long ride before us." + +The dirt-eater did as he was bidden, and we soon settled into a gentle +gallop. + +We had passed through a dense forest of pines, but were emerging into a +"bottom country," where some of the finest deciduous trees--then brown +and leafless, but bearing promise of the opening beauty of +spring--reared, along with the unfading evergreen, their tall stems in +the air. The live-oak, the sycamore, the Spanish mulberry, the holly, +and the persimmon--gaily festooned with wreaths of the white and yellow +jessamine, the woodbine and the cypress-moss, and bearing here and there +a bouquet of the mistletoe, with its deep green and glossy leaves +upturned to the sun--flung their broad arms over the road, forming an +archway grander and more beautiful than any the hand of man ever wove +for the greatest hero the world has worshipped. + +The woods were free from underbrush, and a coarse, wiry grass, unfit for +fodder, and scattered through them in detached patches, was the only +vegetation visible. The ground was mainly covered with the leaves and +burrs of the pine. + +We passed great numbers of swine, feeding on these burrs, and now and +then a horned animal browsing on the cypress-moss where it hung low on +the trees. I observed that nearly all the swine were marked, though they +seemed too wild to have ever seen an owner, or a human habitation. They +were a long, lean, slab-sided race, with legs and shoulders like deer, +and bearing no sort of resemblance to the ordinary hog, except in the +snout, and that feature was so much longer and sharper than the nose of +the Northern swine, that I doubt if Agassiz would class the two as one +species. However, they have their uses--they make excellent bacon, and +are "death on snakes." Ireland itself is not more free from the +serpentine race than are the districts frequented by these long-nosed +quadrupeds. + +"We call them Carolina race-horses," said the Colonel, as he finished an +account of their peculiarities. + +"Race-horses! Why, are they fleet of foot?" + +"Fleet as deer. I'd match one against an ordinary horse at any time." + +"Come, my friend, you're practising on my ignorance of natural history." + +"Not a bit of it. See! there's a good specimen yonder. If we can get him +into the road, and fairly started, I'll bet you a dollar he'll beat +Sandy's mare on a half-mile stretch--Sandy to hold the stakes and have +the winnings." + +"Well, agreed," I said, laughing, "and I'll give the pig ten rods the +start." + +"No," replied the Colonel, "you can't afford it. He'll _have_ to start +ahead, but you'll need that in the count. Come, Sandy, will you go in +for the pile?" + +I'm not sure that the native would not have run a race with Old Nicholas +himself, for the sake of so much money. To him it was a vast sum; and as +he thought of it, his eyes struck small sparks, and his enormous beard +and mustachio vibrated with something that faintly resembled a laugh. +Replying to the question, he said: + +"Kinder reckon I wull, Cunnel; howsomdever, I keeps the stakes, ony +how?" + +"Of course," said the planter, "but be honest--win if you can." + +Sandy halted his horse in the road, while the planter and I took to the +woods on either side of the way. The Colonel soon manoeuvred to +separate the selected animal from the rest of the herd, and, without +much difficulty, got him into the road, where, by closing down on each +flank, we kept him till he and Sandy were fairly under way. + +"He'll keep to the road when once started," said the Colonel, laughing: +"and he'll show you some of the tallest running you ever saw in your +life." + +Away they went. At first the pig, seeming not exactly to comprehend the +programme, cantered off at a leisurely pace, though he held his own. +Soon, however, he cast an eye behind him--halted a moment to collect his +thoughts and reconnoitre--and then, lowering his head and elevating his +tail, put forth all his speed. And such speed! Talk of a deer, the wind, +or a steam-engine--they are not to be compared with it. Nothing in +nature I ever saw run--except, it may be, a Southern tornado, or a Sixth +Ward politician--could hope to distance that pig. He gained on the horse +at every step, and it was soon evident that my dollar was gone! + +"'In for a shilling, in for a pound,' is the adage, so, turning to the +Colonel, I said, as intelligibly as my horse's rapid pace and my excited +risibilities would allow: + +"I see I've lost, but I'll go you another dollar that _you_ can't beat +the pig!" + +"No--sir!" the Colonel got out in the breaks of his laughing explosions; +"you can't hedge on me in that manner. I'll go a dollar that _you_ can't +do it, and your mare is the fastest on the road. She won me a thousand +not a month ago." + +"Well, I'll do it--Sandy to have the stakes." + +"Agreed," said the Colonel, and away _we_ went. + +The swinish racer was about a hundred yards ahead when I gave the mare +the reins, and told her to go. And she _did_ go. She flew against the +wind with a motion so rapid that my face, as it clove the air, felt as +if cutting its way through a solid body, and the trees, as we passed, +seemed struck with panic, and running for dear life in the opposite +direction. + +For a few moments I thought the mare was gaining, and I turned to the +Colonel with an exultant look. + +"Don't shout till you win, my boy," he called out from the distance +where I was fast leaving him and Sandy. + +I _did not shout_, for spite of all my efforts the space between me and +the pig seemed to widen. Yet I kept on, determined to win, till, at the +end of a short half-mile, we reached the Waccamaw--the swine still a +hundred yards ahead! There his pigship halted, turned coolly around, +eyed me for a moment, then with a quiet, deliberate trot, turned off +into the woods. + +A bend in the road kept my companions out of sight for a few moments, +and when they came up I had somewhat recovered my breath, though the +mare was blowing hard, and reeking with foam. + +"Well," said the Colonel, "what do you think of our bacon 'as it runs?'" + +"I think the Southern article can't be beat, whether raw or cooked, +standing or running." + +At this moment the hound, who had been leisurely jogging along in the +rear, disdaining to join in the race in which his dog of a master and I +had engaged, came up, and dashing quickly on to the river's edge, set up +a most dismal howling. The Colonel dismounted, and clambering down the +bank, which was there twenty feet high, and very steep, shouted: + +"The d----d Yankee has swum the stream!" + +"Why so?" I asked. + +"To cover his tracks and delay pursuit; but he has overshot the mark. +There is no other road within ten miles, and he must have taken to this +one again beyond here. He's lost twenty minutes by this manoeuvre. +Come, Sandy, call in the dog, we'll push on a little faster." + +"But he tuk to t'other bank, Cunnel. Shan't we trail him thar?" asked +Sandy. + +"And suppose he found a boat here," I suggested, "and made the shore +some ways down?" + +"He couldn't get Firefly into a flat--we should only waste time in +scouring the other bank. The swamp this side the next run has forced him +into the road within five miles. The trick is transparent. He took me +for a fool," replied the Colonel, answering both questions at once. + +I had reined my horse out of the road, and when my companions turned to +go, was standing at the edge of the bank, overlooking the river. +Suddenly I saw, on one of the abutments of the bridge, what seemed a +long, black log--strange to say, _in motion_! + +"Colonel," I shouted, "see there! a live log as I'm a white man!" + +"Lord bless you," cried the planter, taking an observation, "it's an +alligator!" + +I said no more, but pressing on after the hound, soon left my companions +out of sight. For long afterward, the Colonel, in a doleful way, would +allude to my lamentable deficiency in natural history--particularly in +such branches as bacon and "live logs." + +I had ridden about five miles, keeping well up with the hound, and had +reached the edge of the swamp, when suddenly the dog darted to the side +of the road, and began to yelp in the most frantic manner. Dismounting, +and leading my horse to the spot, I made out plainly the print of +Firefly's feet in the sand. There was no mistaking it--that round shoe +on the off forefoot. (The horse had, when a colt, a cracked hoof, and +though the wound was outgrown, the foot was still tender.) These prints +were dry, while the tracks we had seen at the river were filled with +water, thus proving that the rain had ceased while the overseer was +passing between the two places. He was therefore not far off. + +The Colonel and Sandy soon rode up. + +"Caught a live log! eh, my good fellow?" asked my host, with a laugh. + +"No; but here's the overseer as plain as daylight; and his tracks not +wet!" + +Quickly dismounting, he examined the ground, and then exclaimed: + +"The d--l----it's a fact--here not four hours ago! He has doubled on +his tracks since, I'll wager, and not made twenty miles--we'll have him +before night, sure! Come, mount--quick." + +We sprang into our saddles, and again pressed rapidly on after the dog, +who followed the scent at the top of his speed. + +Some three miles more of wet, miry road took us to the run of which the +Colonel had spoken. Arrived there, we found the hound standing on the +bank, wet to the skin, and looking decidedly chop-fallen. + +"Death and d----n!" shouted the Colonel; "the dog has swum the run, and +lost the trail on the other side! The d--d scoundrel has taken to the +water, and balked us after all! Take up the dog, Sandy, and try him +again over there." + +The native spoke to Caesar, who bounded on to the horse's back in front +of his master. They then crossed the stream, which there was about +fifty yards wide, and so shallow that in the deepest part the water +merely touched the horse's breast; but it was so roiled by the recent +rain that we could not distinguish the foot-prints of the horse beneath +the surface. + +The dog ranged up and down the opposite bank, but all to no purpose: the +overseer had not been there. He had gone either up or down the +stream--in which direction, was now the question. Calling Sandy back to +our side of the run, the Colonel proceeded to hold a 'council of war.' +Each one gave his opinion, which was canvassed by the others, with as +much solemnity as if the fate of the Union hung on the decision. + +The native proposed we should separate--one go up, another down the +stream, and the third, with the dog, follow the road; to which he +thought Moye had finally returned. Those who should explore the run +would easily detect the horse's tracks where he had left it, and then +taking a straight course to the road, all might meet some five miles +further on, at a place indicated. + +I gave my adhesion to Sandy's plan, but the Colonel overruled it on the +ground of the waste of time that would be incurred in thus recovering +the overseer's trail. + +"Why not," he said, "strike at once for the end of his route? Why follow +the slow steps he took in order to throw us off the track? He has not +come back to this road. Ten miles below there is another one leading +also to the railway. He has taken that. We might as well send Sandy and +the dog back and go on by ourselves." + +"But if bound for the Station, why should he wade through the creek +here, ten miles out of his way? Why not go straight on by the road?" I +asked. + +"Because he knew the dog would track him, and he hoped by taking to the +run to make me think he had crossed the country instead of striking for +the railroad." + +I felt sure the Colonel was wrong, but knowing him to be tenacious of +his own opinions, I made no further objection. + +Directing Sandy to call on Madam P---- and acquaint her with our +progress, he then dismissed the negro-hunter, and once more led the way +up the road. + +The next twenty miles, like our previous route, lay through an unbroken +forest. As we left the watercourses, we saw only the gloomy pines, which +there--the region being remote from the means of transportation--were +seldom tapped, and presented few of the openings that invite the weary +traveller to the dwelling of the hospitable planter. + +After a time the sky, which had been bright and cloudless all the +morning, grew overcast, and gave out tokens of a coming storm. A black +cloud gathered in the west, and random flashes darted from it far off in +the distance; then gradually it neared us; low mutterings sounded in the +air, and the tops of the tall pines a few miles away, were lit up now +and then with a fitful blaze, all the brighter for the deeper gloom that +succeeded. Then a terrific flash and peal broke directly over us, and a +great tree, struck by a red-hot bolt, fell with a deafening crash, half +way across our path. Peal after peal followed, and then the rain--not +filtered into drops as it falls from our colder sky, but in broad, +blinding sheets--poured full and heavy on our shelterless heads. + +"Ah! there it comes!" shouted the Colonel. "God have mercy upon us!" + +As he spoke, a crashing, crackling, thundering roar rose above the +storm, filling the air, and shaking the solid earth till it trembled +beneath our horses' feet, as if upheaved by a volcano. Nearer and nearer +the sound came, till it seemed that all the legions of darkness were +unloosed in the forest, and were mowing down the great pines as the +mower mows the grass with his scythe. Then an awful, sweeping crash +thundered directly at our backs, and turning round, as if to face a foe, +my horse, who had borne the roar and the blinding flash till then +unmoved, paralyzed with dread, and panting for breath, sunk to the +ground; while close at my side the Colonel, standing erect in his +stirrups, his head uncovered to the pouring sky, cried out: + +"THANK GOD, WE ARE SAVED!" + +There--not three hundred yards in our rear, had passed the +TORNADO--uprooting trees, prostrating dwellings, and sending many a soul +to its last account, but sparing _us_ for another day! For thirty miles +through the forest it had mowed a swath of two hundred feet, and then +moved on to stir the ocean to its briny depths. + +With a full heart, I remounted, and turning my horse, pressed on in the +rain. We said not a word till a friendly opening pointed the way to a +planter's dwelling. Then calling to me to follow, the Colonel dashed up +the by-path which led to the mansion, and in five minutes we were +warming our chilled limbs before the cheerful fire that roared and +crackled on its broad hearth-stone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE YANKEE-SCHOOL-MISTRESS. + + +The house was a large, old-fashioned frame building, square as a +packing-box, and surrounded, as all country dwellings at the South are, +by a broad, open piazza. Our summons was answered by its owner, a +well-to-do, substantial, middle-aged planter, wearing the ordinary +homespun of the district, but evidently of a station in life much above +the common "corn-crackers" I had seen at the country meeting-house. The +Colonel was an acquaintance, and greeting us with great cordiality, our +host led the way directly to the sitting-room. There we found a bright, +blazing fire, and a pair of bright sparkling eyes, the latter belonging +to a blithesome young woman of about twenty, with a cheery face, and a +half-rustic, half-cultivated air, whom our new friend introduced to us +as his wife. + +"I regret not having had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. S---- before, but +am very happy to meet her now," said the Colonel, with all the +well-bred, gentlemanly ease that distinguished him. + +"The pleasure is mutual, Colonel J----," replied the lady, "but thirty +miles in this wild country, should not have made a neighbor so distant +as you have been." + +"Business, madam, is at fault, as your husband knows. I have much to do; +and besides, all my connections are in the other direction--with +Charleston." + +"It's a fact, Sally, the Colonel is the d---- busy man in these parts. +Not content with a big plantation and three hundred niggers, he looks +after all South Carolina, and the rest of creation to boot," said our +host. + +"Tom will have his joke, Madam, but he's not far from the truth." + +Seeing we were dripping wet, the lady offered us a change of clothing, +and retiring to a chamber, we each appropriated a suit belonging to our +host, giving our own to a servant, to be dried. + +Arrayed in our fresh apparel, we soon rejoined our friends in the +sitting-room. The new garments fitted the Colonel tolerably well, but, +though none too long, they were a world too wide for me, and as my wet +hair hung in smooth flat folds down my cheeks, and my limp shirt-collar +fell over my linsey coat, I looked for all the world like a cross +between a theatrical Aminodab Sleek and Sir John Falstaff, with the +stuffing omitted. When our hostess caught sight of me in this new garb, +she rubbed her hands together in great glee, and, springing to her feet, +gave vent to a perfect storm of laughter--jerking out between the +explosions: + +"Why--you--you--look jest like--a scare-crow." + +There was no mistaking that hearty, hoydenish manner; and seizing both +of her hands in mine, I shouted: "I've found you out--you're a +"country-woman" of mine--a clear-blooded Yankee!" + +"What! _you_ a Yankee!" she exclaimed, still laughing, "and here with +this horrid 'secesherner,' as they call him." + +"True as preachin', Ma'am," I replied, adopting the drawl--"all the way +from Down East, and Union, tu, stiff as buckram." + +"Du tell!" she exclaimed, swinging my hands together as she held them in +hers. "If I warn't hitched to this 'ere feller, I'd give ye a smack +right on the spot. I'm _so_ glad to see ye." + +"Do it, Sally--never mind _me_," cried her husband, joining heartily in +the merriment. + +Seizing the collar of my coat with both hands, she drew my face down +till my lips almost touched hers (I was preparing to blush, and the +Colonel shouted, "Come, come, I shall tell his wife"): but then turning +quickly on her heel, she threw herself into a chair, exclaiming, "_I_ +wouldn't mind, but the _old man would be jealous_." Addressing the +Colonel, she added, "_You_ needn't be troubled, sir, no Yankee girl will +kiss _you_ till you change your politics." + +"Give me that inducement, and I'll change them on the spot," said the +Colonel. + +"No, no, Dave, 'twouldn't do," replied the planter; "the conversion +wouldn't be genuwine--besides such things arn't proper, except 'mong +blood-relations--and all the Yankees, you know are first-cousins." + +The conversation then subsided into a more placid mood, but lost none of +its genial, good humor. Refreshments were soon set before us, and while +partaking of them I gathered from our hostess that she was a Vermont +country-girl, who, some three years before, had been induced by liberal +pay to come South as a teacher. A sister accompanied her, and about a +year after their arrival, she married a neighboring planter. Wishing to +be near her sister, our hostess had also married and settled down for +life in that wild region. "I like the country very well," she added; +"it's a great sight easier living here than in Vermont; but I do hate +these lazy, shiftless, good-for-nothing niggers; they are _so_ slow, and +_so_ careless, and _so_ dirty, that I sometimes think they will worry +the very life out of me. I do believe I'm the hardest mistress in all +the district." + +I learned from her that a majority of the teachers at the South are from +the North, and principally, too, from New England. Teaching is a very +laborious employment there, far more so than with us, for the +Southerners have no methods like ours, and the same teacher usually has +to hear lessons in branches all the way from Greek and Latin to the +simple A B C. The South has no system of public instruction; no common +schools; no means of placing within the reach of the sons and daughters +of the poor even the elements of knowledge. While the children of the +wealthy are most carefully educated, it is the policy of the ruling +class to keep the great mass of the people in ignorance; and so long as +this policy continues, so long will that section be as far behind the +North as it now is, in all that constitutes true prosperity and +greatness. + +The afternoon wore rapidly and pleasantly away in the genial society of +our wayside-friends. Politics were discussed (our host was a Union man), +the prospects of the turpentine crop talked over, the recent news +canvassed, the usual neighborly topics touched upon, and--I hesitate to +confess it--a considerable quantity of corn whiskey disposed of, before +the Colonel discovered, all at once, that it was six o'clock, and we +were still seventeen miles from the railway station. Arraying ourselves +again in our dried garments, we bade a hasty but regretful "good-bye" to +our hospitable entertainers, and once more took to the road. + +The storm had cleared away, but the ground was heavy with the recent +rain, and our horses were sadly jaded with the ride of the morning. We +gave them the reins, and, jogging on at their leisure, it was ten +o'clock at night before they landed us at the little hamlet of W---- +Station, in the state of North Carolina. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE RAILWAY STATION. + + +A large hotel, or station-house, and about a dozen log shanties made up +the village. Two of these structures were negro-cabins; two were small +groceries, in which the vilest alcoholic compounds were sold at a bit +(ten cents) a glass; one was a lawyer's office, in which was the +post-office, and a justice's court, where, once a month, the small +offenders of the vicinity "settled up their accounts;" one was a +tailoring and clothing establishment, where breeches were patched at a +dime a stitch, and payment taken in tar and turpentine; and the rest +were private dwellings of one apartment, occupied by the grocers, the +tailor, the switch-tenders, the postmaster, and the negro _attaches_ of +the railroad. The church and the school-house--the first buildings to go +up in a Northern village--I have omitted to enumerate, because--they +were not there. + +One of the natives told me that the lawyer was a "stuck-up critter;" "he +don't live; he don't--he puts-up at th' hotel." And the hotel! Would +Shakspeare, had he have known it, have written of taking one's _ease_ at +his inn? It was a long, framed building, two stories high, with a +piazza extending across the side and a front door crowded as closely +into one corner as the width of the joist would permit. Under the +piazza, ranged along the wall, was a low bench, occupied by about forty +tin wash-basins and water-pails, and with coarse, dirty crash towels +suspended on rollers above it. By the side of each of these towels hung +a comb and a brush, to which a lock of everybody's hair was clinging, +forming in the total a stock sufficient to establish any barber in the +wig business. + +It was, as I have said, ten o'clock when we reached the Station. +Throwing the bridles of our horses over the hitching-posts at the door, +we at once made our way to the bar-room. That apartment, which was in +the rear of the building, and communicated with by a long, narrow +passage, was filled almost to suffocation, when we entered, by a cloud +of tobacco smoke, the fumes of bad whiskey, and a crowd of drunken +chivalry, through whom the Colonel with great difficulty elbowed his way +to the counter, where "mine host" and two assistants were dispensing +"liquid death," at the rate of ten cents a glass, and of ten glasses a +minute. + +"Hello, Cunnel, how ar' ye," cried the red-faced liquor-vender, as he +caught sight of my companion, and, relinquishing his lucrative +employment for a moment, took the Colonel's hand, "how ar' ye?" + +"Quite well, thank you, Miles," said the Colonel, with a certain +patronizing air, "have you seen my man, Moye?" + +"Moye, no! What's up with him?" + +"He's run away with my horse, Firefly--I thought he would have made for +this station. At what time does the next train go up?" + +"Wal, it's due half arter 'leven, but 'taint gin'rally 'long till nigh +one." + +The Colonel was turning to join me at the door, when a well-dressed +young man of very unsteady movements, who was filling a glass at the +counter, and staring at him with a sort of dreamy amazement, stammered +out, "Moye--run--run a--way, zir! that--k--kant be--by G--. I know--him, +zir--he's a--a friend of mine, and--I'm--I'm d----d if he ain't +hon--honest." + +"About as honest as the Yankees run," replied the Colonel, "he's a +d----d thief, sir!" + +"Look here--here, zir--don't--don't you--you zay any--thing 'gainst--the +Yankees. D----d if--if I aint--one of 'em mezelf--zir," said the fellow +staggering toward the Colonel. + +"_I_ don't care _what_ you are; you're drunk." + +"You lie--you--you d----d 'ris--'ristocrat," was the reply, as the +inebriated gentleman aimed a blow, with all his unsteady might, at the +Colonel's face. + +The South Carolinian stepped quickly aside, and dexterously threw his +foot before the other, who--his blow not meeting the expected +resistance--was unable to recover himself, and fell headlong to the +floor. The planter turned on his heel, and was walking quietly away, +when the sharp report of a pistol sounded through the apartment, and a +ball tore through the top of his boot, and lodged in the wall within two +feet of where I was standing. With a spring, quick and sure as the +tiger's, the Colonel was on the drunken man. Wrenching away the weapon, +he seized the fellow by the neck-tie, and drawing him up to nearly his +full height, dashed him at one throw to the other end of the room. Then +raising the revolver he coolly levelled it to fire! + +But a dozen strong men were on him. The pistol was out of his hand, and +his arms were pinioned in an instant; while cries of "Fair play, sir!" +"He's drunk!" "Don't hit a man when he's down," and other like +exclamations, came from all sides. + +"Give _me_ fair play, you d----d North Carolina hounds," cried the +Colonel, struggling violently to get away, "and I'll fight the whole +posse of you." + +"One's 'nuff for _you_, ye d----d fire-eatin' 'ristocrat;" said a long, +lean, bushy-haired, be-whiskered individual, who was standing near the +counter: "ef ye want to fight, _I'll_ 'tend to yer case to onst. Let him +go, boys," he continued as he stepped toward the Colonel, and parted the +crowd that had gathered around him: "give him the shootin'-iron, and +let's see ef he'll take a man thet's sober." + +I saw serious trouble was impending, and stepping forward, I said to the +last speaker, "My friend, you have no quarrel with this gentleman. He +has treated that man only as you would have done." + +"P'raps thet's so; but he's a d----d hound of a Secesherner thet's +draggin' us all to h--ll; it'll du the country good to git quit of one +on 'em." + +"Whatever his politics are, he's a gentleman, sir, and has done you no +harm--let me beg of you to let him alone." + +"Don't beg any thing for me, Mr. K----," growled the Colonel through his +barred teeth, "I'll fight the d----d corn-cracker, and his whole race, +at once." + +"No you won't, my friend. For the sake of those at home you won't;" I +said, taking him by the arm, and partly leading, partly forcing him, +toward the door. + +"And who in h--ll ar you?" asked the corn-cracker, planting himself +squarely in my way. + +"I'm on the same side of politics with you, Union to the core!" I +replied. + +"Ye ar! Union! Then give us yer fist," said he, grasping me by the hand; +"by ---- it does a feller good to see a man dressed in yer cloes thet +haint 'fraid to say he's Union, so close to South Car'lina, tu, as this +ar! Come, hev a drink: come boys--all round--let's liquor!" + +"Excuse me now, my dear fellow--some other time I'll be glad to join +you." + +"Jest as ye say, but thar's my fist, enyhow." + +He gave me another hearty shake of the hand, and the crowd parting, I +made my way with the Colonel out of the room. We were followed by Miles, +the landlord, who, when we had reached the front of the entrance-way, +said, "I'm right sorry for this row, gentlemen; the boys will hev a time +when they gets together." + +"Oh, never mind;" said the Colonel, who had recovered his coolness; "but +why are all these people here?" + +"Thar's a barbacue cumin' off to-morrer on the camp-ground, and the +house is cram full." + +"Is that so?" said the Colonel, then turning to me he added, "Moye has +taken the railroad somewhere else; I must get to a telegraph office at +once, to head him off. The nearest one is Wilmington. With all these +rowdies here, it will not do to leave the horses alone--will you stay +and keep an eye on them over to-morrow?" + +"Yes, I will, cheerfully." + +"Thar's a mighty hard set, round har now, Cunnel," said the landlord; +"and the most peaceable get enter scrapes ef they hain't no friends. +Hadn't ye better show the gentleman some of your'n, 'fore you go?" + +"Yes, yes, I didn't think of that. Who is here?" + +"Wal, thar's Cunnel Taylor, Bill Barnes, Sam Heddleson, Jo Shackelford, +Andy Jones, Rob Brown, and lots of others." + +"Where's Andy Jones?" + +"Reckon he's turned in; I'll see." + +As the landlord opened a door which led from the hall, the Colonel said +to me, "Andy is a Union man; but he'd fight to the death for me." + +"Sal!" called out the hotel keeper. + +"Yas, massa, I'se har," was the answer from a slatternly woman, awfully +black in the face, who soon thrust her head from the door-way. + +"Is Andy Jones har?" asked Miles. + +"Yas, massa, he'm turned in up thar on de table." + +We followed the landlord into the apartment. It was the dining-room of +the hotel, and by the dim light which came from a smoky fire on the +hearth, I saw it contained about a hundred people, who, wrapped in +blankets, bed-quilts and travelling-shawls, were disposed in all +conceivable attitudes, and scattered about on the hard floor and tables, +sleeping soundly. The room was a long, low apartment--extending across +the entire front of the house--and had a wretched, squalid look. The +fire, which was tended by the negro-woman--(she had spread a blanket on +the floor, and was keeping a drowsy watch over it for the night)--had +been recently replenished with green wood, and was throwing out thick +volumes of black smoke, which, mixing with the effluvia from the lungs +of a hundred sleepers, made up an atmosphere next to impossible to +breathe. Not a window was open, and not an aperture for ventilation +could be seen! + +Carefully avoiding the arms and legs of the recumbent chivalry, we +picked our way, guided by the negro-girl, to the corner of the room +where the Unionist was sleeping. Shaking him briskly by the shoulder, +the Colonel called out: "Andy! Andy! wake up!" + +"What--what the d----l is the matter?" stammered the sleeper, gradually +opening his eyes, and raising himself on one elbow, "Lord bless you, +Cunnel, is that you? what in ---- brought _you_ har?" + +"Business, Andy. Come, get up, I want to see you, and I can't talk +here." + +The North Carolinian slowly rose, and throwing his blanket over his +shoulders, followed us from the room. When we had reached the open air +the Colonel introduced me to his friend, who expressed surprise, and a +great deal of pleasure, at meeting a Northern Union man in the Colonel's +company. + +"Look after our horses, now, Miles; Andy and I want to talk," said the +planter to the landlord, with about as little ceremony as he would have +shown to a negro. + +I thought the white man did not exactly relish the Colonel's manner, but +saying, "All right, all right, sir," he took himself away. + +The night was raw and cold, but as all the rooms of the hotel were +occupied, either by sleepers or carousers, we had no other alternative +than to hold our conference in the open air. Near the railway-track a +light-wood fire was blazing, and, obeying the promptings of the frosty +atmosphere, we made our way to it. Lying on the ground around it, +divested of all clothing except a pair of linsey trousers and a flannel +shirt, and with their naked feet close to its blaze--roasting at one +extremity, and freezing at the other--were several blacks, the +switch-tenders and woodmen of the Station--fast asleep. How human beings +could sleep in such circumstances seemed a marvel, but further +observation convinced me that the Southern negro has a natural aptitude +for that exercise, and will, indeed, bear more exposure than any other +living thing. Nature in giving him such powers of endurance, appears to +have specially fitted him for the life of hardship and privation to +which he is born. + +The fire-light enabled me to scan the appearance of my new acquaintance. +He was rather above the medium height, squarely and somewhat stoutly +built, and had an easy and self-possessed, though rough and unpolished +manner. His face, or so much of it as was visible from underneath a +thick mass of reddish gray hair, denoted a firm, decided character; but +there was a manly, open, honest expression about it that gained one's +confidence in a moment. He wore a slouched hat and a suit of the +ordinary "sheep's-grey," cut in the "sack" fashion, and hanging loosely +about him. He seemed a man who had made his own way in the world, and I +subsequently learned that appearances did not belie him. The son of a +"poor white" man, with scarcely the first rudiments of book-education, +he had, by sterling worth, natural ability, and great force of +character, accumulated a handsome property, and acquired a leading +position in his district. Though on "the wrong side of politics," his +personal popularity was so great that for several successive years he +had been elected to represent the county in the state legislature. The +Colonel, though opposed to him in politics--and party feeling at the +South runs so high that political opponents are seldom personal +friends--had, in the early part of his career, aided him by his +endorsements; and Andy had not forgotten the service. It was easy to see +that while two men could not be more unlike in character and appearance +than my host and the North Carolinian, they were warm and intimate +friends. + +"So, Moye has been raising h--ll gin'rally, Colonel," said my new +acquaintance after a time. "I'm not surprised. I never did b'lieve in +Yankee nigger-drivers--sumhow it's agin natur' for a Northern man to go +Southern principles quite so strong as Moye did." + +"Which route do you think he has taken?" asked the Colonel. + +"Wal, I reckon arter he tuk to the run, he made fur the mountings. He +know'd you'd head him on the travelled routes; so he's put, I think, fur +the Missussippe, where he'll sell the horse and make North." + +"I'll follow him," said the Colonel, "to the ends of the earth. If it +costs me five thousand dollars, I'll see him hung." + +"Wal," replied Andy, laughing, "if he's gone North you'll need a +extradition treaty to kotch him. South Car'lina, I b'lieve, has set up +fur a furrin country." + +"That's true," said the Colonel, also laughing, "she's "furrin" to the +Yankees, but not to the old North State." + +"D----d if she haint," replied the North Carolinian, "and now she's got +out on our company, I swear she must keep out. We'd as soon think of +goin' to h----ll in summer time, as of jining partnership with her. +Cunnel, you'r the only decent man in the State--d----d if you +haint--and _your_ politics are a'most bad 'nuff to spile a township. It +allers seemed sort o'queer to me, that a man with such a mighty good +heart as your'n, could be so short in the way of brains." + +"Well, you're complimentary," replied the Colonel, with the utmost +good-nature, "but let's drop politics; we never could agree, you know. +What shall I do about Moye?" + +"Go to Wilmington and telegraph all creation: wait a day to har, then if +you don't har, go home, hire a native overseer, and let Moye go to the +d----l. Ef it'll do you any good I'll go to Wilmington with you, though +I did mean to give you Secesherners a little h--har to-morrer." + +"No, Andy, I'll go alone. 'Twouldn't be patriotic to take you away from +the barbacue. You'd 'spile' if you couldn't let off some gas soon." + +"I do b'lieve I shud. Howsumdever, thar's nary a thing I wouldn't do for +you--you knows that." + +"Yes, I do, and I wish you'd keep an eye on my Yankee friend here, and +see he don't get into trouble with any of the boys--there'll be a hard +set 'round, I reckon." + +"Wal, I will," said Andy, "but all he's to do is to keep his mouth +shet." + +"That seems easy enough," I replied, laughing. + +A desultory conversation followed for about an hour, when the +steam-whistle sounded, and the up-train arrived. The Colonel got on +board and bidding us "good-night," went on to Wilmington. Andy then +proposed we should look up sleeping accommodations. It was useless to +seek quarters at the hotel, but an empty car was on the turn-out, and +bribing one of the negroes we got access to it, and were soon stretched +at full length on two of its hard-bottomed seats. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE BARBACUE. + + +The camp-ground was about a mile from the station, and pleasantly +situated in a grove, near a stream of water. It was in frequent use by +the camp-meetings of the Methodist denomination--which sect at the South +is partial to these rural religious gatherings. Scattered over it, with +an effort at regularity, were about forty small but neat log cottages, +thatched with the long leaves of the turpentine pine, and chinked with +branches of the same tree. Each of these houses was floored with leaves +or straw, and large enough to afford sleeping accommodations for about +ten persons, provided they spread their bedding on the ground, and lay +tolerably close together. Interspersed among the cabins were about a +dozen canvas tents which had been erected for this especial occasion. + +Nearly in the centre of the group of huts a rude sort of scaffold, four +or five feet high, and surrounded by a rustic railing, served for the +speaker's stand. It would seat about a dozen persons, and was protected +by a roof of pine-boughs, interlaced together so as to keep off the sun, +without affording protection from the rain. In the rear of this stand +were two long tables, made of rough boards, and supported on stout +joists, crossed on each other in the form of the letter X. A canopy of +green leaves shaded the grounds, and the whole grove, which was +perfectly free from underbrush, was carpeted with the soft, brown +tassels of the pine. + +Being fatigued with the ride of the previous day, I did not awake till +the morning was far advanced, and it was nearly ten o'clock when Andy +and I took our way to the camp-ground. Avoiding the usual route, we +walked on through the forest. It was mid-winter, and vegetation lay dead +all around us, awaiting the time when spring should breathe into it the +breath of life, and make it a living thing. There was silence and rest +in the deep woods. The birds were away on their winter wanderings; the +leaves hung motionless on the tall trees, and nature seemed resting from +her ceaseless labors, and listening to the soft music of the little +stream which sung a cheerful song as it rambled on over the roots and +fallen branches that blocked its way. Soon a distant murmur arose, and +we had not proceeded far before as many sounds as were heard at Babel +made a strange concert about our ears. The lowing of the ox, the +neighing of the horse, and the deep braying of another animal, mingled +with a thousand human voices, came through the woods. But above and over +all rose the stentorian tones of the stump speaker, + + "As he trod the shaky platform, + With the sweat upon his brow." + +About a thousand persons were already assembled on the ground, and a +more motley gathering I never witnessed. All sorts of costumes and all +classes of people were there; but the genuine back-woods corn-crackers +composed the majority of the assemblage. As might be expected much the +larger portion of the audience were men, still I saw some women and not +a few children; many of the country people having taken advantage of the +occasion to give their families a holiday. Some occupied benches in +front of the stand, though a larger number were seated around in groups, +within hearing of the speaker, but paying very little attention to what +he was saying. A few were whittling--a few pitching quoits, or playing +leap-frog, and quite a number were having a quiet game of whist, euchre +or "seven-up." + +The speaker was a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking man and a tolerably +good orator. He seemed accustomed to addressing a jury, for he displayed +all the adroitness in handling his subject, and in appealing to the +prejudices of his hearers, that we see in successful special pleaders. +But he overshot his mark. To nine out of ten of his audience, his words +and similes, though correct, and sometimes beautiful, were as +unintelligible as the dead languages. He advocated immediate, +unconditional secession; and I thought from the applause which met his +remarks, whenever he seemed to make himself understood, that the large +majority of those present were of the same way of thinking. + +He was succeeded by a heavy-browed, middle-aged man, slightly bent, and +with hair a little turned to gray, but still hale, athletic, and in the +prime and vigor of manhood. His pantaloons and waistcoat were of the +common homespun, and he used, now and then, a word of the country +dialect, but as a stump-speaker he was infinitely superior to the more +polished orator who had preceded him. + +He, too, advocated secession, as a right and a duty--separation, now and +forever, from the dirt-eating, money-loving Yankees, who, he was ashamed +to say, had the same ancestry, and worshipped the same God, as himself. +He took the bold ground that slavery is a curse to both the black and +the white, but that it was forced upon this generation before its birth, +by these same greedy, grasping Yankees, who would sell not only the +bones and sinews of their fellow men, but--worse than that--their own +souls, for gold. It was forced upon them without their consent, and now +that it had become interwoven with all their social life, and was a +necessity of their very existence, the hypocritical Yankees would take +it from them, because, forsooth, it is a sin and a wrong--as if _they_ +had to bear its responsibility, or the South could not settle its own +affairs with its MAKER! + +"Slavery is now," he continued, "indispensable to us. Without it, +cotton, rice, and sugar will cease to grow, and the South will starve. +What if it works abuses? What if the black, at times, is overburdened, +and his wife and daughters debauched? Man is not perfect anywhere--there +are wrongs in every society. It is for each one to give his account, in +such matters, to his God. But in this are we worse than they? Are there +not abuses in society at the North? Are not their laborers overworked? +While sin here hides itself under cover of the night, does it not there +stalk abroad at noon-day? If the wives and daughters of blacks are +debauched here, are not the wives and daughters of whites debauched +there? and will not a Yankee barter away the chastity of his own mother +for a dirty dollar? Who fill our brothels? Yankee women! Who load our +penitentiaries, crowd our whipping-posts, debauch our slaves, and cheat +and defraud us all? Yankee men! And I say unto you, fellow-citizens," +and here the speaker's form seemed to dilate with the wild enthusiasm +which possessed him, "'come out from among them; be ye separate, and +touch not the unclean thing,' and thus saith the Lord God of Hosts, who +will guide you, and lead you, if need be, to battle and to victory!" + +A perfect storm of applause followed. The assemblage rose, and one long, +wild shout rent the old woods, and made the tall trees tremble. It was +some minutes before the uproar subsided; when it did, a voice near the +speaker's stand called out, "Andy Jones!" The call was at once echoed by +another voice, and soon a general shout for "Andy!" "Union Andy!" "Bully +Andy!" went up from the same crowd which a moment before had so wildly +applauded the secession speaker. + +Andy rose from where he was seated beside me, and quietly ascended the +steps of the platform. Removing his hat, and passing to his mouth a huge +quid of tobacco from a tin box in his pantaloons-pocket, he made +several rapid strides up and down the speaker's stand, and then turned +squarely to the audience. + +The reader has noticed a tiger pacing up and down in his cage, with his +eyes riveted on the human faces before him. He has observed how he will +single out some individual, and finally stopping short in his rounds, +turn on him with a look of such intense ferocity as makes a man's blood +stand still, and his very breath come thick and hard, as he momentarily +expects the beast will tear away the bars of the cage and leap forth on +the obnoxious person. Now, Andy's fine, open, manly face had nothing of +the tiger in it, but, for a moment, I could not divest myself of the +impression, as he halted in his walk up and down the stage, and turned +full and square on the previous speaker--who had taken a seat among the +audience near me--that he was about to spring upon him. Riveting his eye +on the man's face, he at last slowly said: + +"A man stands har and quotes Scriptur agin his feller man, and forgets +that 'God made of one blood all nations that dwell on the face of the +'arth.' A man stands har and calls his brother a thief, and his mother a +harlot, and axes us to go his doctrin's! I don't mean his brother in the +Scriptur sense, nor his mother in a fig'rative sense, but I mean the +brother of his own blood, and the mother that bore him; for HE, +gentlemen (and he pointed his finger directly at the recent speaker, +while his words came slow and heavy with intense scorn), HE is a Yankee! +And now, I say, gentlemen, d--n sech doctrin's; d----n sech +principles, and d----n the man that's got a soul so black as to utter +'em!" + +A breathless silence fell on the assemblage, while the person alluded to +sprang to his feet, his face on fire, and his voice thick and broken +with intense rage, as he yelled out: "Andy Jones, by----, you shall +answer for this!" + +"Sartin," said Andy, coolly inserting his thumbs in the armholes of his +waistcoat; "enywhar you likes--har--now--ef 'greeable to you." + +"I've no weapon here, sir, but I'll give you a chance mighty sudden," +was the fierce reply. + +"Suit yourself," said Andy, with perfect imperturbability; "but as you +haint jest ready, s'pose you set down, and har me tell 'bout your +relations: they're a right decent set--them as I knows--and I'll swar +they're 'shamed of you." + +A buzz went through the crowd, and a dozen voices called out: "Be civil, +Andy"--"Let him blow"--"Shut up"--"Go in, Jones"--with other like +elegant exclamations. + +A few of his friends took the aggrieved gentleman aside, and, soon +quieting him, restored order. + +"Wal, gentlemen," resumed Andy, "all on you know whar I was raised--over +thar in South Car'lina. I'm sorry to say it, but it's true. And you all +know my father was a pore man, who couldn't give his boys no chance--and +ef he could, thar warn't no schules in the district--so we couldn't hev +got no book-larning ef we'd been a minded to. Wal, the next plantation +to whar we lived was old Cunnel J----'s, the father of this cunnel. He +was a d----d old nullifier, jest like his son--but not half so decent a +man. Wal, on his plantation was an old nigger called Uncle Pomp, who'd +sumhow larned to read. He was a mighty good nigger, and he'd hev been in +heaven long afore now ef the Lord hadn't a had sum good use for him down +har--but he'll be thar yet a d----d sight sooner than sum on us white +folks--that's sartin. Wal, as I was saying, Pomp could read, and when I +was 'bout sixteen, and had never seen the inside of a book, the old +darky said to me one day--he was old then, and that was thirty years +ago--wal, he said to me, 'Andy, chile, ye orter larn to read, 'twill be +ob use to ye when you'se grow'd up, and it moight make you a good and +'spected man--now, come to ole Pomp's cabin, and he'll larn you, Andy, +chile.' Wal, I reckon I went. He'd nothin' but a Bible and Watts' Hymns; +but we used to stay thar all the long winter evenin's, and by the light +o' the fire--we war both so darned pore we couldn't raise a candle +atween us--wal, by the light o' the fire he larned me, and fore long I +could spell right smart. + +"Now, jest think on that, gentlemen. I, a white boy, and, 'cordin' to +the Declaration of Independence, with jest as good blood in me as the +old Cunnel had in him, bein' larned to read by an old slave, and that +old slave a'most worked to death, and takin' his nights, when he orter +hev been a restin' his old bones, to larn me! I'm d----d if he don't +get to heaven for that one thing, if for nothin' else. + +"Wal, you all know the rest--how, when I'd grow'd up, I settled har, in +the old North State, and how the young Cunnel backed my paper, and set +me a runnin' at turpentining. P'raps you don't think this has much to do +with the Yankees, but it has a durned sight, as ye'll see rather sudden. +Wal, arter a while, when I'd got a little forehanded, I begun shipping +my truck to York and Bostin'; and at last my Yankee factor, he come out +har, inter the back woods, to see me, and says he, 'Jones, come North +and take a look at us.' I'd sort o' took to him. I'd lots o' dealin's +with him afore ever I seed him, and I allers found him straight as a +shingle. Wal, I went North, and he took me round, and showed me how the +Yankees does things. Afore I know'd him, I allers thought--as p'raps +most on you do--that the Yankees war a sort o' cross atween the devil +and a Jew; but how do you s'pose I found 'em? I found that they _sent +the pore man's children to schule_, FREE--and that the schule-houses war +a d----d sight thicker than the bugs in Miles Privett's beds! and +that's sayin' a heap, for ef eny on you kin sleep in his house, excep' +he takes to the soft side of the floor, I'm d----d. Yas, the pore man's +children are larned thar, FREE!--all on 'em--and they've jest so good a +chance as the sons of the rich man! Now, arter that, do you think that +I--as got all my schulein, from an old slave, by the light of a borrored +pine-knot--der you think that _I_ kin say any thing agin the Yankees? +P'r'aps they _do_ steal--though I doant know it--p'r'aps they _do_ +debauch thar wives and darters, and sell thar mothers' vartue for +dollars--but, ef they do, I'm d----d if they doant send pore children +to schule--and that's more'n we do--and let me tell you, until we do +thet, we must expec' they'll be cuter and smarter nor we are. + +"This gentleman, too, my friends, who's been a givin' sech a hard +settin' down ter his own relation, arter they've broughten him up, and +given him sech a schulein for nuthin', he says the Yankees want to +interfere with our niggers. Now, thet haint so, and they couldn't ef +they would, 'case it's agin the Constertution. And they stand on the +Constertution a durned sight solider nor we do. Didn't thar big +gun--Daniel Webster--didn't he make mince-meat of South Car'lina Hayne +on thet ar' subjec'? But I tell you they haint a mind ter meddle with +the niggers; they're a goin' to let us go ter h--l our own way, and +we're goin' thar mighty fast, or I haint read the last census." + +"P'r'aps you haint heerd on the ab'lsh'ners, Andy?" cried a voice from +among the audience. + +"Wal, I reckon I hev," responded the orator, "I've heerd on 'em, and +seed 'em, too. When I was North I went to one on thar conventions, and +I'll tell you how they look. They've all long, wimmin's har, and thin, +shet lips, with big, bawlin' mouths, and long, lean, tommerhawk faces, +as white as vargin dip--and they all talk through the nose (giving a +specimen), and they all look for all the world jest like the South +Car'lina fire-eaters--and they _are_ as near like 'em as two peas, +excep' they don't swar quite so bad, but they make up for thet in +prayin'--and prayin' too much, I reckon, when a man's a d----d +hippercrit, is 'bout as bad as swearin'. But, I tell you, the decent +folks up North haint ablisheners. They look on _'em_ jest as we do on +mad dogs, the itch, or the nigger traders. + +"Now, 'bout this secession bis'ness--though 'taint no use to talk on +that subjec', 'case this state never'll secede--South Car'lina has done +it, and I'm raather glad she has, for though I was born thar--and say it +as hadn't orter say it--she orter hev gone to h--l long ago, and now +she's got thar, why--_let her stay_! But, 'bout thet bis'ness, I'll tell +you a story. + +"I know'd an old gentleman once by the name of Uncle Sam, and he'd a +heap of sons. They war all likely boys--but strange ter tell, though +they'd all the same mother, and she was a white woman, 'bout half on 'em +war colored--not black, but sorter half-and-half. Now, the white sons +war well-behaved, industrious, hard-workin' boys, who got 'long well, +edicated thar children, and allers treated the old man decently; but the +mulatter fellers war a pesky set--though some on 'em war better nor +others. They wouldn't work, but set up for airystocracy--rode in +kerriges, kept fast horses, bet high, and chawed tobaccer like the +devil. Wal, the result was, _they_ got out at the elbows, and 'case they +warn't gettin' 'long quite so fast as the white 'uns--though that war +all thar own fault--they got jealous, and one on 'em who was blacker nor +all the rest--a little feller, but terrible big on braggin'--he packed +up his truck one night, and left the old man's house, and swore he'd +never come back. He tried to make the other mulatters go with him, but +they put thar fingers to thar nose, and says they, 'No you doant.' I was +in favor of lettin' on him stay out in the cold, but the old man was a +bernevolent old critter, and so _he_ says: 'Now, sonny, you jest come +back and behave yourself, and I'll forgive you all your old pranks, and +treat you jest as I allers used ter; but, ef you wont, why--I'll make +you, thet's all!' + +"Now, gentlemen, thet quarrelsome, oneasy, ongrateful, tobaccer-chawin', +hoss-racin', high-bettin', big-braggin', nigger-stealin', +wimmin-whippin', yaller son of the devil, is South Car'lina, and ef she +doant come back and behave herself in futur', I'm d----d ef she wont be +ploughed with fire, and sowed with salt, and Andy Jones will help ter do +it." + +The speaker was frequently interrupted in the course of his remarks by +uproarious applause--but as he closed and descended from the platform, +the crowd sent up cheer after cheer, and a dozen strong men, making a +seat of their arms, lifted him from the ground and bore him off to the +head of the table, where dinner was in waiting. + +The whole of the large assemblage then fell to eating. The dinner was +made up of the barbacued beef and the usual mixture of viands found on a +planter's table, with water from the little brook hard by, and a +plentiful supply of corn-whiskey. (The latter beverage had, I thought, +been subjected to the rite of immersion, for it tasted wonderfully of +water.) + +Songs and speeches were intermingled with the masticating exercises, and +the whole company was soon in the best of humor. + +During the meal I was introduced by Andy to a large number of the +"natives," he taking special pains to tell each one that I was a Yankee, +and a Union man, but always adding, as if to conciliate all parties, +that I also was a guest and a friend of _his_ very particular friend, +"thet d----d seceshener, Cunnel J----." + +Before we left the table, the secession orator happening near where we +were seated, Andy rose from his seat, and, extending his hand to him, +said: "Tom, you think I 'sulted you; p'r'aps I did, but you 'sulted my +Yankee friend har, and your own relation, and I hed to take it up, jest +for the looks o' the thing. Come, there's my hand; I'll fight you ef you +want ter, or we'll say no more 'bout it--jest as you like." + +"Say no more about it, Andy," said the gentleman, very cordially; "let's +drink and be friends." + +They drank a glass of whiskey together, and then leaving the table, +proceeded to where the ox had been barbacued, to show me how cooking on +a large scale is done at the South. + +In a pit about eight feet deep, twenty feet long, and ten feet wide, +laid up on the sides with stones, a fire of hickory had been made, over +which, after the wood had burned down to coals, a whole ox, divested of +its hide and entrails, had been suspended on an enormous spit. Being +turned often in the process of cooking, the beef had finally been "done +brown." It was then cut up and served on the table, and I must say, for +the credit of Southern cookery, that it made as delicious eating as any +meat I ever tasted. + +I had then been away from my charge--the Colonel's horses--as long as +seemed to be prudent. I said as much to Andy, when he proposed to return +with me, and, turning good-humoredly to his reconciled friend, he said: +"Now, Tom, no secession talk while I'm off." + +"Nary a word," said "Tom," and we left. + +The horses had been well fed by the negro whom I had left in charge of +them, but had not been groomed. Seeing that, Andy stripped off his coat, +and setting the black at work on one, with a handful of straw and pine +leaves, commenced operations on the other, whose hair was soon as smooth +and glossy as if it had been rubbed by an English groom. + +The remainder of the day passed without incident till eleven at night, +when the Colonel returned from Wilmington. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE RETURN. + + +Moye had not been seen or heard of, and the Colonel's trip was +fruitless. While at Wilmington he sent telegrams, directing the +overseer's arrest, to the various large cities of the South, and then +decided to return home, make arrangements preliminary to a protracted +absence from the plantation, and proceed at once to Charleston, where he +would await replies to his dispatches. Andy agreed with him in the +opinion that Moye, in his weak state of health, would not take an +overland route to the free states, but would endeavor to reach some town +on the Mississippi, where he might dispose of the horse, and secure a +passage up the river. + +As no time was to be lost, we decided to return to the plantation on the +following morning. Accordingly, with the first streak of day we bade +"good-bye" to our Union friend, and started homeward. + +No incident worthy of mention occurred on the way, till about ten +o'clock, when we arrived at the house of the Yankee schoolmistress, +where we had been so hospitably entertained two days before. The lady +received us with great cordiality, forced upon us a lunch to serve our +hunger on the road, and when we parted, enjoined on me to leave the +South at the earliest possible moment. She was satisfied it would not +for a much longer time be safe quarters for a man professing Union +sentiments. Notwithstanding the strong manifestations of loyalty I had +observed among the people, I was convinced the advice of my pretty +"countrywoman" was judicious, and I determined to be governed by it. + +Our horses, unaccustomed to lengthy journeys, had not entirely recovered +from the fatigues of their previous travel, and we did not reach our +destination till an hour after dark. We were most cordially welcomed by +Madam P----, who soon set before us a hot supper, which, as we were +jaded by the long ride, and had fasted for twelve hours, on +bacon-sandwiches and cold hoe-cake, was the one thing needful to us. + +While seated at the table the Colonel asked: + +"Has every thing gone right, Alice, since we left home?" + +"Every thing," replied the lady, "except"--and she hesitated, as if she +dreaded the effect of the news; "except that Jule and her child have +gone." + +"Gone!" exclaimed my host; "gone where?" + +"I don't know. We have searched everywhere, but have found no clue to +them. The morning you left Sam set Jule at work among the pines; she +tried hard, but could not do a full task, and at night was taken to the +cabin to be whipped. I heard of it, and forbade it. It did not seem to +me that she ought to be punished for not doing what she had not strength +to do. When released from the cabin, she came and thanked me for having +interfered for her, and talked with me awhile. She cried and took on +fearfully about Sam, and was afraid you would punish her when you +returned. I promised you would not, and she left me seeming more +cheerful. I supposed she would go directly home after getting her child +from the nurse's quarters; but it appears she went to Pompey's, where +she staid till after ten o'clock. Neither she nor the child have been +seen since." + +"Did you get no trace of her in the morning?" + +"Yes, but soon lost it. When she did not appear at work, Sam went to her +cabin to learn the cause, and found the door open, and her bed +undisturbed. She had not slept there. Knowing that Sandy had returned, I +sent for him, and, with Jim and his dog, he commenced a search. The dog +tracked her directly from Pompey's cabin to the bank of the run near the +lower still. There all trace of her disappeared. We dragged the stream, +but discovered nothing. Jim and Sandy then scoured the woods for miles +in all directions, but the hound could not recover the trail. I hope +otherwise, but I fear some evil has befallen her." + +"Oh, no! there's no fear of that," said the Colonel: "she is smart: she +waded up the run far enough to baffle the dog, and then made for the +swamp. That is why you lost her tracks at the stream. Rely upon it, I am +right: but she shall not escape me." + +We shortly afterward adjourned to the library. After being seated there +a while the Colonel, rising quickly, as if a sudden thought had struck +him, sent for the old preacher. + +The old negro soon appeared, hat in hand, and taking a stand near the +door, made a respectful bow to each one of us. + +"Take a chair, Pompey," said Madam P----, kindly. + +The black meekly seated himself, when the Colonel asked: "Well, Pomp, +what do you know about Jule's going off?" + +"Nuffin', massa--I shures you, nuffin'. De pore chile say nuffin to ole +Pomp 'bout dat." + +"What did she say?" + +"Wal, you see, massa, de night arter you gwo 'way, and arter she'd +worked hard in de brush all de day, and been a strung up in de ole cabin +fur to be whipped, she come ter me wid har baby in har arms, all a-faint +and a-tired, and har pore heart clean broke, and she say dat she'm jess +ready ter drop down and die. Den I tries ter comfut har, massa; I takes +har up from de floor, and I say ter har dat de good Lord He pity +har--dat He woant bruise de broken reed, and woant put no more on her +dan she kin b'ar--dat He'd touch you' heart, and I toled har you'se a +good, kine heart at de bottom, massa--and I knows it, 'case I toted you +'fore you could gwo, and when you's a bery little chile, not no great +sight bigger'n har'n, you'd put your little arms round ole Pomp's neck, +and say dat when you war grow'd up you'd be bery kine ter de pore brack +folks, and not leff 'em be 'bused like dey war in dem days." + +"Never mind what _you_ said," interrupted the Colonel, a little +impatiently, but showing no displeasure; "what did _she_ say?" + +"Wal, massa, she tuk on bery hard 'bout Sam, and axed me ef I raaily +reckoned de Lord had forgib'n him, and took'n him ter Heself, and gibin' +him one o' dem hous'n up dar, in de sky. I toled her dat I _know'd_ it; +but she say it didn't 'pear so ter har, 'case Sam had a been wid har out +dar in de woods, all fru de day; dat she'd a _seed_ him, massa, and +dough he handn't a said nuffin', he'd lukd at har wid sech a sorry, +grebed luk, dat it gwo clean fru har heart, till she'd no strength leff, +and fall down on de ground a'most dead. Den she say big Sam come 'long +and fine har dar, and struck har great, heaby blows wid de big whip!" + +"The brute!" exclaimed the Colonel, rising from his chair, and pacing +rapidly up and down the room. + +"But p'r'aps he warn't so much ter blame, massa," continued the old +negro, in a deprecatory tone; "maybe he 'spose she war shirkin' de work. +Wal, den she say she know'd nuffin' more, till byme-by, when she come +to, and fine big Sam dar, and he struck har agin, and make har gwo ter +de work; and she did gwo, but she feel like as ef she'd die. I toled har +de good ma'am wudn't leff big Sam 'buse har no more 'fore you cum hum, +and dat you'd hab 'passion on har, and not leff har gwo out in de woods, +but put har 'mong de nusses, like as afore. + +"Den she say it 'twarn't de work dat trubble har--dat she orter work, +and orter be 'bused, 'case she'd been bad, bery bad. All she axed war +dat Sam would forgib har, and cum to har in de oder worle, and tell har +so. Den she cried, and tuk on awful; but de good Lord, massa, dat am so +bery kine ter de bery wuss sinners, He put de words inter my mouf, and I +tink dey gib har comfut, fur she say dat it sort o' 'peared to har den +dat Sam _would_ forgib har, and take har inter his house up dar, and she +warn't afeard ter die no more. + +"Den she takes up de chile and gwo 'way, 'pearin' sort o' happy, and +more cheerful like dan I'd a seed har eber sense pore Sam war shot." + +My host was sensibly affected by the old man's simple tale, but +continued pacing up and down the room, and said nothing. + +"It's plain to me, Colonel," I remarked, as Pompey concluded, "she has +drowned herself and the child--the dog lost the scent at the creek." + +"Oh, no!" he replied; "I think not. I never heard of a negro committing +suicide--they've not the courage to do it." + +"I fear she _has_, David," said the lady. "The thought of going to Sam +has led her to it; yet, we dragged the run, and found nothing. What do +you think about it, Pompey?" + +"I dunno, ma'am, but I'se afeard of dat; and now dat I tinks ob it, I'se +afeard dat what I tole har put har up ter it," replied the old preacher, +bursting into tears. "She 'peared so happy like, when I say she'd be +'long wid Sam in de oder worle, dat I'se afeard she's a gone and done +it wid har own hands. I tole har, too, dat de Lord would oberlook good +many tings dat pore sinners do when dey can't help 'emselfs--and it make +har do it! Oh! it make har do it!" and the old black buried his face in +his hands, and wept bitterly. + +"Don't feel so, Pomp," said his master, _very_ kindly. "You did the best +you could; no one blames you." + +"I knows _you_ doant, massa--I knows you doant, and you'se bery good +nottur--but oh! massa, de Lord!" and his body swayed to and fro with the +great grief; "I fears de Lord do, massa, for I'se sent har ter Him wid +har own blood, and de blood of dat pore innercent chile, on har hands. +Oh, I fears de Lord neber'll forgib me--neber'll forgib me for _dat_." + +"He will, my good Pomp--He will!" said the Colonel, laying his hand +tenderly on the old man's shoulder. "The Lord will forgive you, for the +sake of the Christian example you've set your master, if for nothing +else;" and here the proud, strong man's feelings overpowering him, his +tears fell in great drops on the breast of the old slave, as they had +fallen there in his childhood. + +Such scenes are not for the eye of a stranger, and turning away, I left +the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +"ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE." + + +The family met at the breakfast-table at the usual hour on the following +morning; but I noticed that Jim was not in his accustomed place behind +the Colonel's chair. That gentleman exhibited his usual good spirits, +but Madam P---- looked sad and anxious, and _I_ had not forgotten the +scene of the previous evening. + +While we were seated at the meal, the negro Junius hastily entered the +room, and in an excited manner exclaimed: + +"Oh, massa, massa, you muss cum ter de cabin--Jim hab draw'd his knife, +and he swar he'll kill de fuss 'un dat touch him!" + +"He does, does he!" said his master, springing from his seat, and +abruptly leaving the apartment. + +Remembering the fierce burst of passion I had seen in the negro, and +fearing there was danger a-foot, I rose to follow, saying, as I did so: + +"Madam, cannot you prevent this?" + +"I cannot, sir; I have already done all I can. Go and try to pacify the +Colonel--Jim will die before he'll be whipped." Jim was standing at the +farther end of the old cabin, with his back to the wall, and the large +spring knife in his hand. Some half-dozen negroes were in the centre of +the room, apparently cowed by his fierce and desperate looks, and his +master was within a few feet of him. + +"I tell you, Cunnel," cried the negro, as I entered, "you touch me at +your peril!" + +"You d----d nigger, do you dare to speak so to me?" said his master, +taking a step toward him. + +The knife rose in the air, and the black, in a cool, sneering tone, +replied: "Say your prayers 'fore you come nigher, for, so help me God, +you'm a dead man!" + +I laid my hand on the Colonel's arm, to draw him back, saying, as I did +so: "There's danger in him! I _know_ it. Let him go, and he shall ask +your pardon." + +"I shan't ax his pardon," cried the black; "leff him an' me be, sir; +we'll fix dis ourselfs." + +"Don't interfere, Mr. K----," said my host, with perfect coolness, but +with a face pallid with rage. "Let me govern my own plantation." + +"As you say, sir," I replied, stepping back a few paces; "but I warn +you--there is danger in him!" + +Taking no notice of my remark, the Colonel turning to the trembling +negroes, said: "One of you go to the house and bring my pistols." + +"You kin shoot me, ef you likes," said Jim, with a fierce, grim smile; +"but I'll take you ter h--l wid me, _shore_. You knows WE wont stand a +blow!" + +The Colonel, at the allusion to their relationship, started as if shot, +and turning furiously on the negro, yelled out: "I'll shoot you for +that, you d----d nigger, by ----." + +"It 'pears ter me, Cunnel, ye've hed 'bout nuff shootin' round har, +lately; better stop thet sort o' bis'ness; it moight give ye a sore +throat," said the long, lean, loose-jointed stump-speaker of the +previous Sunday, as he entered the cabin and strode directly up to my +host. + +"What brought you here, you d----d insolent hound?" cried the Colonel, +turning fiercely on the new-comer. + +"Wal, I cum ter du ye a naaboorly turn--I've kotched two on yer niggers +down ter my still, and I want ye ter take 'em 'way," returned the +corn-cracker, with the utmost coolness. + +"Two of my niggers!" exclaimed the Colonel, perceptibly moderating his +tone--"which ones?" + +"A yaller gal, and a chile." + +"I thank you, Barnes; excuse my hard words--I was excited." + +"All right, Cunnel; say no more 'bout thet. Will ye send fur 'em? I'd +hev fotched 'em 'long, but my waggin's off jest now." + +"Yes, I'll send at once. Have you got them safe?" + +"Safe? I reckon so! Kotched 'em last night, arter dark, and they've kept +right still ever sense, I 'sure ye--but th' gal holds on ter th' young +'un ter kill--we cudn't get it 'way no how." + +"How did you catch them?" + +"They got 'gainst my turpentime raft--the curren' driv 'em down, I +s'pose." + +"What! are they dead?" + +"Dead? deader'n drownded rats!" replied the native, + +"My God! drowned herself and her child!" exclaimed the Colonel, with +deep emotion. + +"It is terrible, my friend. Come, let us go to them, at once," I said, +laying my hand on his arm, and drawing him unresistingly away. + +A pair of mules was speedily harnessed to a large turpentine wagon, and +the horses we had ridden the day before were soon at the door. When the +Colonel, who had been closeted for a few minutes with Madam P----, came +out of the house, we mounted, and rode off with the "corn-cracker." + +The native's farm was located on the stream which watered my friend's +plantation, and was about ten miles distant. Taking a by-road which led +to it through the woods, we rode rapidly on in advance of the wagon. + +"Sort o' likely gal, thet, warn't she?" remarked the turpentine-maker, +after a while. + +"Yes, she was," replied the Colonel, in a half-abstracted manner; +"_very_ likely." + +"Kill harself 'case har man war shot by thet han'som overseer uv +your'n?" + +"Not altogether for that, I reckon," replied my host; "I fear the main +reason was her being put at field-work, and abused by the driver." + +"Thet comes uv not lookin' arter things yerself, Cunnel. I tend ter my +niggers parsonally, and they keer a durned sight more fur this world +then fur kingdom-cum. Ye cudn't hire 'em ter kill 'emselves fur no +price." + +"Well," replied the Colonel, in a low tone, "I _did_ look after her. I +put her at full field-work, myself!" + +"By----!" cried the native, reining his horse to a dead stop, and +speaking in an excited manner: "I doant b'lieve it--'taint 't all like +ye--yer a d----d seceshener; thet comes uv yer bringin'-up--but ye've a +soul bigger'n a meetin'-house, and ye cudn't hev put thet slim, weakly +gal inter th' woods, no how!" + +The Colonel and I instinctively halted our horses, as the "corn-cracker" +stopped his, and were then standing abreast of him in the road. + +"It's true, Barnes," said my host, in a voice that showed deep +dejection; "I _did_ do it!" + +"May God Almighty furgive ye, Cunnel," said the native, starting his +horse forward; "_I_ wudn't hev dun it fur all yer niggers, by ----." + +The Colonel made no reply, and we rode on the rest of the way in +silence. + +The road was a mere wagon-track through the trees, and it being but +little travelled, and encumbered with the roots and stumps of the pine, +our progress was slow, and we were nearly two hours in reaching the +plantation of the native. + +The corn-cracker's house--a low, unpainted wooden building--stood near +the little stream, and in the centre of a cleared plot of some ten +acres. This plot was surrounded by a post-and-rail fence, and in its +front portion was a garden, which grew a sufficient supply of vegetables +to serve a family of twenty persons. In the rear, and at the sides of +the dwelling, were about seven acres, devoted mainly to corn and +potatoes. In one corner of the lot were three tidy-looking negro-houses, +and close beside them I noticed a low shed, near which a large quantity +of the stalks of the tall, white corn, common to that section, was +stacked in the New England fashion. Browsing on the corn-stalks were +three sleek, well-kept milch cows, and a goat. + +About four hundred yards from the farmer's house, and on the bank of the +little run, which there was quite wide and deep, stood a turpentine +distillery; and around it were scattered a large number of rosin and +turpentine barrels, some filled and some empty. A short distance higher +up, and far enough from the "still" to be safe in the event of a fire, +was a long, low, wooden shed, covered with rough, unjointed boards, +placed upright, and unbattened. This was the "spirit-house," used for +the storage of the spirits of turpentine when barrelled for market, and +awaiting shipment. In the creek, and filling nearly one-half of the +channel in front of the spirit-shed, was a raft of pine timber, on which +were laden some two hundred barrels of rosin. On such rude conveyances +the turpentine-maker sent his produce to Conwayboro'. There the +timber-raft was sold to my way-side friend, Captain B----, and its +freight shipped on board vessel for New York. Two "prime" negro men, +dressed in the usual costume, were "tending the still;" and a negro +woman, as stout and strong as the men, and clad in a short, loose, +linsey gown, from beneath which peeped out a pair of coarse leggins, was +adjusting a long wooden trough, which conveyed the liquid rosin from the +"still" to a deep excavation in the earth, at a short distance. In the +pit was a quantity of rosin sufficient to fill a thousand barrels. + +"Here, Bill," said Barnes to one of the negro men, as we pulled up at +the distillery, "put these critters up, and give 'em sum oats, and when +they've cooled off a bit, water 'em." + +"Yas, yas, massa," replied the negro, springing nimbly forward, and +taking the horses by the bridles, "an' rub 'em down, massa?" + +"Yas, rub 'em down right smart," replied the corn-cracker; then turning +to me, as we dismounted, he said: "Stranger, thet's th' sort o' niggers +fur ye; all uv mine ar' jess like him--smart and lively as kittens." + +"He does seem to go about his work cheerfully," I replied. + +"Cheerfully! d----d ef he doant--all on 'em du! They like me better'n +thar own young 'uns, an' it's 'cause I use 'em like human bein's;" and +he looked slyly toward the Colonel, who just then was walking silently +away, in the direction of the run, as if in search of the browned +"chattels." + +"Not thar, Cunnel," cried the native; "they're inter th' shed;" and he +started to lead the way to the "spirit-house." + +"Not now, Barnes," I said, putting my hand on his arm: "leave him alone +for a little while. He is feeling badly, and we'd better not disturb him +just yet." + +The native motioned me to a seat on a rosin-barrel, as he replied: + +"Wal, he 'pears ter--thet's a fact, and he orter. D----d ef it arn't +wicked to use niggers like cattle, as he do." + +"I don't think he means to ill-treat them--he's a kind-hearted man." + +"Wal, he ar sort o' so; but he's left ev'ry thing ter thet d----d +overseer uv his'n. I wudn't ha' trusted him to feed my hogs." + +"Hogs!" I exclaimed, laughing; "I supposed you didn't _feed_ hogs in +these diggins. I supposed you 'let 'em run.'" + +"_I_ doant; an' I've got th' tallest porkys round har." + +"I've been told that they get a good living in the woods." + +"Wal, p'r'aps the' du jest make eout ter live thar; but my ole 'oman +likes 'em ter hum--they clean up a place like--eat up all th' leavin's, +an' give th' young nigs suthin' ter du." + +"It seems to me," I said, resuming the previous thread of the +conversation; "that overseers are a necessity on a large plantation." +"Wal, the' ar', an' thet's why thar ortent ter be no big plantations; +God Almighty didn't make human bein's ter be herded togethar in th' +woods like hogs. No man orter ter hev more'n twenty on 'em--he can't +look arter no more himself, an' its agin natur ter set a feller over 'em +what hain't no int'rest in 'em, an' no feelin' fur 'em, an' who'll drive +'em round like brutes. I never struck one on 'em in my life, an' my ten +du more'n ony fifteen th' Cunnel's got." + +"I thought they needed occasional correction. How do you manage them +without whipping?" + +"Manage them! why 'cordin' ter scriptur--do ter 'em as I'd like ter be +dun ter, ef I war a nigger. Every one on 'em knows I'd part with my last +shirt, an' live on taters an' cow-fodder, fore I'd sell em; an' then I +give 'em Saturdays for 'emselfs--but thet's cute dealin' in me (tho' th' +pore, simple souls doant see it), fur ye knows the' work thet day for +'emselfs, an' raise nigh all thar own feed, 'cept th' beef and +whiskey--an' it sort o' makes 'em feel like folks, too, more like as ef +the' war _free_--the' work th' better fur it all th' week." + +"Then you think the blacks would work better if free?" + +"In _course_ I does--its agin man's natur to be a slave. Thet lousy +parson ye herd ter meetin, a Sunday, makes slavery eout a divine +institooshun, but my wife's a Bible 'oman, and she says 'taint so; an' +I'm d----d ef she arn't right." + +"Is your wife a South Carolina women?" + +"No, she an' me's from th' old North--old Car'tret, nigh on ter Newbern; +an' we doant take nat'rally to these fire-eaters." + +"Have you been here long?" + +"Wal, nigh on ter six yar. I cum har with nuthin' but a thousan' ter my +back--slapped thet inter fifteen hun'red acres--paid it down--and then +hired ten likely, North Car'lina niggers--hired 'em with th' chance uv +buyin' ef the' liked eout har. Wal, th' nigs all know'd me, and the' +sprung ter it like blazes; so every yar I've managed ter buy two on 'em, +and now I've ten grow'd up, and thar young'uns; th' still and all th' +traps paid fur, an' ef this d----d secesh bis'ness hadn't a come 'long, +I'd hev hed a right smart chance o' doin' well." + +"I'm satisfied secession will ruin the turpentine business; you'll be +shut up here, unable to sell your produce, and it will go to waste." + +"Thet's my 'pinion; but I reckon I kin' manage now witheout turpentime. +I've talked it over 'long with my nigs, and we kalkerlate, ef these ar +doin's go eny furder, ter tap no more trees, but clar land an' go ter +raisin' craps." + +"What! do you talk politics with your negroes?" + +"Nary a politic--but I'm d----d ef th' critters doan't larn 'em sumhow; +the' knows 'bout as much uv what's goin' on as I du--but plantin arn't +politics; its bisness, an' they've more int'rest in it nor I hev, 'cause +they've sixteen mouths ter feed agin my four." + +"I'm glad, my friend, that you treat them like men: but I have supposed +they were not well enough informed to have intelligent opinions on such +subjects." + +"Informed! wal, I reckon the' is; all uv mine kin read, an' sum on 'em +kin write, too. D'ye see thet little nig thar?" pointing to a juvenile +coal-black darky of about six years, who was standing before the "still" +fire; "thet ar little devil kin read an' speak like a parson. He's got +hold, sumhow, uv my little gal's book o' pieces, an' larned a dozen on +'em. I make him cum inter th' house, once in a while uv an evenin', an' +speechify, an' 'twould do yer soul good ter har him, in his shirt tail, +with a old sheet wound round him fur a toger (I've told him th' +play-acters du it so down ter Charles'on), an' spoutin' out: 'My name am +Norval; on de Gruntin' hills my fader feed him hogs!' The little coon +never seed a sheep, an' my wife's told him a flock's a herd, an' he +thinks 'hog' _sounds_ better'n 'flock,' so, contra'y ter th' book, he +puts in 'hogs,' and hogs, you knows, hev ter grunt, so he gits 'em on +th' 'Gruntin hills;" and here the kind-hearted native burst into a fit +of uproarious laughter, in which, in spite of myself, I had to join. + +When the merriment had somewhat subsided, the turpentine-maker called +out to the little darky: + +"Come here, Jim." + +The young chattel ran to him with alacrity, and wedging in between his +legs, placed his little black hands, in a free-and-easy way, on his +master's knees, and, looking up trustfully in his face, said: + +"Wal, massa?" + +"What's yer name?" + +"Dandy Jim, massa." + +"Thet arn't all--what's th' rest?" + +"Dandy Jim of ole Car'lina." + +"Who made ye?" + +"De good God, massa." + +"No, He didn't: God doant make little nigs. He makes none but white +folks;" said the master, laughing. + +"Yas He'm do; Missus say He'm do; dat He make dis nig jess like He done +little Totty." + +"Wal, He did, Jim. I'm d----d ef _He_ didn't, fur nobody else cud make +_ye_!" replied the man, patting the little woolly head with undisguised +affection. + +"Now, Jim, say th' creed fur 'de gemman.'" + +The young darky then repeated the Apostle's Creed and the Ten +Commandments. + +"Is thet all ye knows?" + +"No, massa, I knows a heap 'sides dat." + +"Wal, say suthin' more--sum on 'em pieces thet jingle." + +The little fellow then repeated with entire correctness, and with +appropriate gestures, and emphasis, though in the genuine darky +dialect--which seems to be inborn with the pure-Southern black--Mrs. +Hemans' poem: + +"The boy stood on the burning deck." + +"Mrs. Hemans draped in black!" I exclaimed, laughing heartily: "How +would the good lady feel, could she look down from where she is, and +hear a little darky doing up her poetry in that style?" + +"D----d ef I doant b'lieve 'twud make her love th' little nig like I +do;" replied the corn-cracker, taking him up on his knee as tenderly as +he would have taken up his own child. + +"Tell me, my little man," I said: "who taught you all these things?" + +"I larned 'em, myseff, sar," was the prompt reply. + +"You learned them, yourself! but who taught you to read?" + +"I larned 'em myseff, sar!" + +"You couldn't have learned _that_ yourself; didn't your 'massa' teach +you?" + +"No, sar." + +"Oh! your 'missus' did." + +"No, sar." + +"No, sar!" I repeated; then suspecting the real state of the case, I +looked him sternly in the eye, and said: "My little man, it's wrong to +tell lies--you must _always_ speak the truth; now, tell me truly, did +not your 'missus' teach you these things?" + +"No, sar, I larned 'em myseff." + +"Ye can't cum it, Stranger; ye moight roast him over a slow fire, an' +not git nary a thing eout on him but thet," said the corn-cracker, +leaning forward, and breaking into a boisterous fit of laughter. "It's +agin th' law, an' I'm d----d ef I teached him. Reckon he _did_ larn +himself!" + +"I must know your wife, my friend. She's a good woman." + +"Good! ye kin bet high on thet; she's uv th' stuff th' Lord makes angels +eout on." + +I had no doubt of it, and was about to say so, when the Colonel's +turpentine wagon drove up, and I remembered I had left him too long +alone. + +The coachman was driving, and Jim sat on the wagon beside him. + +"Massa K----," said the latter, getting down and coming to me: "Whar am +dey?" + +"In the spirit-shed." + +He was turning to go there, when I called him back, saying: "Jim, you +must not see your master now; you'd better keep out of sight for the +present." + +"No, massa; de ma'am say de Cunnel take dis bery hard, and dat I orter +tell him I'se sorry for what I'se done." + +"Well, wait a while. Let me go in first." + +Accompanied by the corn-cracker, I entered the turpentine-shed. A row of +spirit-barrels were ranged along each of its sides, and two tiers +occupied the centre of the building. On these a number of loose planks +were placed, and on the planks lay the bodies of the metif woman and her +child. The Colonel was seated on a barrel near them, with his head +resting on his hands, and his eyes fixed on the ground. He did not seem +to notice our entrance, and, passing him without speaking, I stepped to +the side of the dead. + +The woman's dress, the common linsey gown worn by her class, was still +wet, and her short, kinky, brown hair fell in matted folds around her +face. One arm hung loosely by her side; the other was clasped tightly +around her child, which lay as if asleep on her bosom. One of its small +hands clung to its mother's breast, and around its little lips played a +smile. But how shall I describe the pale, sweet beauty of the face of +the drowned girl, as she lay there, her eyes closed, and her lips +parted, as in prayer? Never but once have I seen on human features the +strange radiance that shone upon it, or the mingled expression of hope, +and peace, and resignation that rested there--and that was in the +long-gone time, when, standing by her bedside, I watched the passing +away of one who is now an angel in heaven! + +"Come, my dear friend, let us go," I said, turning and gently taking the +Colonel by the arm, "the negroes are here, and will take charge of the +dead." + +"No, no!" he replied, rising, and looking around, as if aroused from a +troubled dream; "that is for _me_ to do!" Then he added, after a +moment's pause, "Will you help me to get them into the wagon?" + +"Yes, I will, certainly." + +He made one step toward the body of the dead girl, then sinking down +again on the barrel, covered his face with his hands, and cried out: "My +God! this is terrible! Did you ever see such a look as that? It will +haunt me forever!" + +"Come, my friend, rouse yourself--this is weakness; you are tired with +the long ride and excitement of the past few days. Come, go home--I will +look after them." + +"No, no! I must do it. I will be a man again;" and he rose and walked +steadily to the dead bodies. "Is there any one here to help?" he asked. + +Jim was standing in the door-way, and I motioned to him to come forward. +The great tears were streaming down his face as he stepped timidly +towards his master, and said: "I'll do dis, massa, don't you trubble +yerself no more." + +"It's good of you, Jim. You'll forgive me for being so cruel to you, +wont you?" said the Colonel, taking the black by the hand. + +"Forgib ye, massa! _I_ war all ter blame--but ye'll forgib me, +massa--ye'll forgib me!" cried the black, with strong emotion. + +"Yes, yes; but say no more about it. Come, let us get Julie home." + +But the poor girl was already _home_--home where her sufferings and her +sorrows were over, and all her tears were wiped away forever! + +We four bore away the mother and the child. A number of blankets were in +the bottom of the wagon, and we laid the bodies carefully upon them. +When all seemed ready, the Colonel, who was still standing by the side +of the dead, turned to my new friend, and said: "Barnes, will you loan +me a pillow? I will send it back to-night." + +"Sartin, Cunnel;" and the farmer soon brought one from the house. +Lifting tenderly the head of the drowned girl, the Colonel placed it +beneath her, and smoothing back her tangled hair, he gently covered her +face with his handkerchief, as if she could still feel his kindness, or +longer cared for the pity or the love of mortal. Yet, who knows but that +her parted soul, from the high realm to which it had soared, may not +then have looked down, have seen that act, and have forgiven him! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE SMALL PLANTER. + + +In the first moments of grief the sympathy of friends, and the words of +consolation bring no relief. How much more harshly do such words grate +on the ear when the soul is bowed down by remorse and unavailing regret! +Then the wounded spirit finds peace nowhere but with God. + +I saw that the Colonel would be alone, and turning to him, as he +prepared to follow the strange vehicle, which, with its load of death, +was already jolting its way over the rough forest road, I said, + +"Will you pardon me, if I remain with your friend here for awhile? I +will be at the mansion before dark." + +"Oh, certainly, my friend, come when you feel disposed," he replied, and +mounting his horse he was soon out of sight among the trees. + +"Now, Barnes," I said, shaking off the gloomy feelings that had +oppressed me: "come, I must see that wife of yours, and get a glimpse of +how you live?" + +"Sartin, stranger; come in; I'll give ye th' tallest dinner my 'oman can +scare up, an' she's sum pumkins in th' cookin' line;" and he led the way +to the farm-house. + +As I turned to follow, I slipped a half-dollar into the hand of the +darky who was holding my horse, and asked him to put her again into the +stable. + +"I'll do dat, sar, but I karn't take dis; masaa doant 'low it nohow;" he +replied, tendering me back the money. + +"Barnes, your negroes have strange ways; I never met one before who'd +refuse money." + +"Wal, stranger, 'taint hosspetality to take money on yer friends, and +Bill gets all he wants from me." + +I took the silver and gave it to the first darky I met, who happened to +be an old centenarian belonging to the Colonel. As I tossed it to him, +he grinned out: "Ah, massa, I'll git sum 'backer wid dis; 'pears like I +hadn't nary a chaw in forty yar." With more than one leg in the grave +the old negro had not lost his appetite for the weed--in fact, that and +whiskey are the only "luxuries" ever known to the plantation black. + +As we went nearer, I took a closer survey of the farm-house. It was, as +I have said, a low, unpainted wooden building, located in the middle of +a ten acre lot. It was approached by a straight walk, paved with a +mixture of sand and tar, similar to that which the reader may have seen +in the Champs Elysees. I do not know whether my back-woods friend, or +the Parisian pavior, was the first inventor of this composition, but I +am satisfied the corn-cracker had not stolen it from the stone-cracker. +The walk was lined with fruit-bearing shrubs, and directly in front of +the house, were two small flower-beds. + +The dwelling itself, though of a dingy brown wood-color, was neat and +inviting. It may have been forty feet square on the ground, and was only +a story and a half high, but a projecting roof, and a front +dormer-window, relieved it from the appearance of disproportion. Its +gable ends were surmounted by two enormous brick chimneys, carried up on +the outside, in the fashion of the South, and its high, broad windows +were ornamented with Venetian blinds. Its front door opened directly +into the "living-room," and at the threshold we met its mistress. + +As the image of that lady has still a warm place in a pleasant corner of +my memory, I will describe her. She was about thirty years of age, and +had a fresh, cheerful face. To say that she was handsome, would not be +strictly true; though she had that pleasant, gentle, kindly expression +that sometimes makes even a homely person seem beautiful. But she was +not homely. Her features were regular, her hair, glossy and brown, and +her eyes, black and brilliant, and, for their color, the mildest and +softest I had ever seen. Her figure was tall, and in its outline +somewhat sharp and angular, but she had an ease and grace about her that +made one forget she was not moulded as softly and roundly as others. She +seemed just the woman on whose bosom a tired, worn, over-burdened man +might lay his weary head, and find rest and forgetfulness. + +She wore a neat calico dress, fitting closely to the neck, and an apron +of spotless white muslin. A little lace cap perched cosily on the back +of her head, hiding a portion of her wavy, dark hair, and on her feet--a +miracle, reader, in one of her class--were stockings and shoes! Giving +me her hand--which, at the risk of making her husband jealous, I held +for a moment--she said, making a gentle courtesy: + +"Ye ar welcome, stranger." + +"I sincerely thank you, madam; I _am_ a stranger in these parts." + +She tendered me a chair, while her husband opened a sideboard, and +brought forth a box of Havanas, and a decanter of Scuppernong. As I took +the proffered seat, he offered me the refreshments. I drank the lady's +health in the wine, but declined the cigars. Seeing this, she remarked: + +"Yer from th' North, sir; arn't ye?" + +"Yes, madam, I live in New York, but I was born in New-England." + +"I reckoned so; I knew ye didn't belong in Car'lina." + +"How did you know that, madam?" I asked, laughing. + +"I seed ye doan't smoke 'fore wimmin. But ye musn't mind me; I sort o' +likes it; its a great comfut to John, and may be it ar to ye." + +"Well, I do relish a good cigar, but I never smoke before any lady +except my wife, and though she's only 'a little lower than the angels,' +she _does_, once in awhile, say it's a shame to make the _house_ smell +like a tobacco factory." + +Barnes handed me the box again, and I took one. As I was lighting it, he +said: + +"Ye've got a good 'oman, hev ye?" + +"There's none better; at least, I think so." + +"Wal, I'm 'zactly uv thet 'pinion 'bout mine: I wouldn't trade her fur +all this worle, an' th' best half uv 'tother." + +"Don't ye talk so, John," said the lady; then addressing me, she added: +"It's a good husband thet makes a good wife, sir." + +"Sometimes, madam, but not always. I've known some of the best of wives +who had miserable husbands." + +"An' I'm d----d ef I made my wife th' 'oman she ar'," said the +corn-cracker. + +"Hush, John; ye musn't sw'ar so; ye knows how often ye've said ye +wouldn't." + +"Wal, I du, an' I wont agin, by ----. But Sukey, whar's th' young 'uns?" + +"Out in the lot, I reckon; but ye musn't holler'm in--they'r all dirt." + +"No matter for that, madam," I said; "dirt is healthy for little ones; +rolling in the mud makes them grow." + +"Then our'n orter grow right smart, fur they'r in it allers." + +"How many have you, madam?" + +"Two; a little boy, four, and a little gal, six." + +"They're of interesting ages." + +"Yas, the' is int'restin'; ev'ry 'uns own chil'ren is smart; but the' +does know a heap. John was off ter Charl'ston no great while back, an' +the little boy used ter pray ev'ry mornin' an' ev'nin' fur his fader ter +cum hum. I larned 'em thet jest so soon as the' talked, 'cause thar's no +tellin' how quick the' moight be tooken 'way. Wal, the little feller +prayed ev'ry mornin' an' ev'nin' fur his fader ter cum back; an' John +didn't cum; so finarly he got sort o' provoked with th' Lord; an' he +said God war aither deaf, an' couldn't har, or he war naughty, an' +wouldn't tell fader thet little Johnny wanted to seed 'im 'werry +mooch'"--and here the good lady laughed pleasantly, and I joined in most +heartily. + +Blessed are the children that have such a mother. + +Soon the husband returned with the little girl and boy, and four young +ebonies, all bare-headed, and dressed alike, in thick trousers, and a +loose linsey shirt. Among them was my new acquaintance, "Dandy Jim, of +ole Car'lina." + +The little girl came to me, and soon I had two white children on one +knee, and two black on the other, and Dandy Jim between my legs, playing +with my watch-chain. The family made no distinction between the colors, +and as the children were all equally clean I did not see why _I_ should +do so. + +The lady renewed the conversation by remarking; "P'raps ye reckon it's +quar, sir, that we 'low our'n to 'sociate 'long with th' black chil'ren; +but we karn't help it. On big plantations it works sorry bad, fur th' +white young 'ons larn all manner of evil from the black 'uns; but I've +laboored ter teach our'n so one wont do no harm ter 'tother." + +"I suppose, madam, that is one of the greatest evils of slavery. The low +black poisons the mind of the white child, and the bad influence lasts +through life." + +"Yas, it's so, stranger; an' it's the biggest keer I hev. It often +'pears strange ter me thet our grow'd up men arn't no wuss then the' +is." + +In those few words that unlettered woman had said, what would--if men +were but wise enough to hear and heed the great truth which she +spoke--banish slavery from this continent forever! + +After awhile the farmer told the juvenile delineator of Mrs. Hemans, and +the other poets, to give us a song; and planting himself in the middle +of the floor, the little darky sang "Dixie," and several other negro +songs, which his master had taught him, but into which he had introduced +some amusing variations of his own. The other children joined in the +choruses; and then Jim danced breakdowns, "walk-along-Joes," and other +darky dances, his master accompanying him on a cracked fiddle, till my +sides were sore with laughter, and the hostess begged them to stop. +Finally the clock struck twelve, and the farmer, going to the door, gave +a long, loud blast on a cow's horn. In about five minutes one after +another of the field hands came in, till the whole ten had seated +themselves on the verandah. Each carried a bowl, a tin-cup, or a gourd, +into which my host--who soon emerged from a back room[J] with a pail of +whiskey in his hand--poured a gill of the beverage. This was the day's +allowance, and the farmer, in answer to a question of mine, told me he +thought negroes were healthier, and worked better for a small quantity +of alcohol daily. "The' work hard, and salt feed doant set 'em up +'nough," was his remark. + +Meanwhile the hostess busied herself with preparations for dinner, and +it was soon spread on a bright cherry table, covered by a spotless white +cloth. The little darkies had scattered to the several cabins, and we +soon sat down to as good a meal as I ever ate at the South. + +We were waited on by a tidy negro woman, neatly clad in a calico gown, +with shoes on her feet, and a flaming red and yellow 'kerchief on her +head. This last was worn in the form of a turban, and one end escaping +from behind, and hanging down her back, it looked for all the world like +a flag hung out from a top turret. Observing it, my host said: + +"Aggy--showin' yer colors? Ye'r Union gal--hey?" + +"Yas, I is dat, massa; Union ter de back bone;" responded the negress, +grinning widely. + +"All th' Union _ye_ knows on," replied the master, winking slyly at me, +"is th' union yer goin' ter hitch up 'long with black Cale over ter +Squire Taylor's." + +"No, 'taint, massa; takes more'n tu ter make de Union." + +"Yas, I knows--it gin'rally takes ten or a dozen: reckon it'll take a +dozen with ye." + +"John, ye musn't talk so ter th' sarvents; it spiles 'em," said his +wife. + +"No it doant--do it, Aggy?" + +"Lor', missus, I doant keer what massa say; but I doant leff no oder man +run on so ter me!" + +"No more'n ye doant, gal! only Cale." + +"Nor him, massa; I makes him stan' roun' _I_ reckon." + +"I reckon ye du; ye wudn't be yer massa's gal ef ye didn't." + +When the meal was over, I visited, with my host, the negro houses. The +hour allowed for dinner[K] was about expiring, and the darkies were +preparing to return to the field. Entering one of the cabins, where were +two stout negro men and a woman, my host said to them, with a perfectly +serious face: + +"Har, boys, I've fotched ye a live Yankee ab'lishener; now, luk at 'im +all roun'. Did ye ever see sech a critter?" + +"Doant see nuffin' quar in dat gemman, massa," replied one of the +blacks. "Him 'pears like bery nice gemman; doant 'pear like +ab'lishener;" and he laughed, and scraped his head in the manner +peculiar to the negro, as he added: "kinder reckon he wudn't be har ef +he war one of _dem_." + +"What der _ye_ knows 'bout th' ab'lisheners? Ye never seed one--what +d'ye 'spose the' luk like?" + +"Dey say dey luk likes de bery ole debil, massa, but reckon taint so." + +"Wal, the' doant; the' luk wusa then thet: they'm bottled up thunder an' +lightnin', an' ef the' cum down har, they'll chaw ye all ter hash." + +"I reckon!" replied the darky, manipulating his wool, and distending his +face into a decidedly incredulous grin. + +"What do you tell them such things for?" I asked, good-humoredly. + +"Lor, bless ye, stranger, the' knows th' ab'lisheners ar thar friends, +jest so well as ye du; and so fur as thet goes, d----d ef the' doan't +know I'm one on 'em myseff, fur I tells 'em, ef the' want to put, the' +kin put, an' I'll throw thar trav'lin 'spences inter th' bargin. Doan't +I tell ye thet, Lazarus." + +"Yas, massa, but none ob massa's nigs am gwine ter put--lesswise, not so +long as you an' de good missus, am 'bove groun'." + +The darky's name struck me as peculiar, and I asked him where he got it. + +"_'Tain't_ my name, sar; but you see, sar, w'en massa fuss hire me ob +ole Capt'in ----, up dar ter Newbern-way, I war sort o' sorry +like--hadn't no bery good cloes--an' massa, he den call me Lazarus, +'case he say I war all ober rags and holes, an' it hab sort o' stuck ter +me eber sense. I war a'mighty bad off 'fore dat, but w'en I cum down har +I gets inter Abr'am's buzzum, I does;" and here the darky actually +reeled on his seat with laughter. + +"Is this woman your wife?" I asked. + +"No, sar; my wife 'longs to Cunnel J----; dat am my new wife--my ole +wife am up dar whar I cum from!" + +"What! have you two wives?" + +"Yas, massa, I'se two." + +"But that's contrary to Scripture." + +"No, sar; de Cunnel say 'tain't. He say in Scriptur' dey hab a heap ob' +'em, and dat niggers kin hab jess so many as dey likes--a hun'red ef dey +want ter." + +"Does the Colonel teach that to his negroes?" I asked, turning to the +native. + +"Yas, I reckon he do--an' sits 'em th' 'zample, too," he replied, +laughing; "but th' old sinner knows better'n thet; he kin read." + +"Do you find that in the Bible, Lazarus?" + +"Yas, massa; whar I reads it. Dat's whar it tell 'bout David and Sol'mon +and all dem--dey hab a heap ob wives. A pore ole darky karn't hab +'nuffin 'sides dem, an' he _orter_ be 'low'd jess so many as he likes." + +Laughing at the reasoning of the negro, I asked: + +"How would _you_ like it, if your wife over at Colonel J----'s, had as +many husbands as _she_ liked?" + +"Wal, I couldn't fine no fault, massa: an' I s'pose she do; dough I +doan't knows it, 'case I'se dar only Sundays." + +"Have you any children?" + +"Yas, sar; I'se free 'longin' ter de Cunnel, an' four or five--I doant +'zactly know--up ter hum; but _dey'se_ grow'd up." + +"Is your wife, up there, married again?" + +"Yas, massa, she got anoder man jess w'en I cum 'way; har ole massa make +har do it." + +We then left the cabin, and when out of hearing of the blacks, I said to +the corn-cracker: "That _may be_ Scripture doctrine, but _I_ have not +been taught so!" + +"Scriptur or no Scriptur, stranger, it's d----d heathenism," replied +the farmer, who, take him all in all, is a superior specimen of the +class of small-planters at the South; and yet, seeing polygamy practised +by his own slaves, he made no effort to prevent it. He told me that if +he should object to his darky cohabiting with the Colonel's negress, it +would be regarded as unneighborly, and secure him the enmity of the +whole district! And still we are told that slavery is a _Divine_ +institution! + +After this, we strolled off into the woods, where the hands were at +work. They were all stout, healthy and happy-looking, and in answer to +my comments on their appearance, the native said that the negroes on the +turpentine farms are always stronger and longer-lived, than those on the +rice and cotton-fields. Unless carried off by the fevers incident to the +climate, they generally reach a good old age, while the rice-negro +seldom lives to be over forty, and the cotton-slave very rarely attains +sixty. Cotton-growing, however, my host thought, is not, in itself, much +more unhealthy than turpentine-gathering, though cotton-hands work in +the sun, while the turpentine slaves labor altogether in the shade. +"But," he said, "the' work 'em harder nor we does, an' doan't feed 'em +so well. We give our'n meat and whiskey ev'ry day, but them articles is +skarse 'mong th' cotton blacks, an' th' rice niggers never get 'em +excep' ter Chris'mas time, an' thet cums but onst a yar." + +"Do you think the white could labor as well as the black, on the rice +and cotton-fields?" I asked. + +"Yas, an' better--better onywhar; but, in coorse, 'tain't natur' fur +black nor white ter stand long a workin' in th' mud and water up ter +thar knees; sech work wud kill off th' very devil arter a while. But th' +white kin stand it longer nor the black, and its' 'cordin' ter reason +that he shud; fur, I reckon, stranger, that the sperit and pluck uv a +man hev a durned sight ter du with work. They'll hole a man up when he's +clean down, an' how kin we expec' thet the pore nig', who's nary a thing +ter work fur, an' who's been kept under an' 'bused ever sense Adam was a +young un'--how kin we expec' he'll work like men thet own 'emselfs, an' +whose faders hev been free ever sense creation? I reckon that the +parient has a heap ter du with makin' th' chile. He puts the sperit +inter 'im: doan't we see it in hosses an' critters an' sech like? It +mayn't crap eout ter onst, but it's shore ter in th' long run, and +thet's th' why th' black hain't no smarter nor he is. He's been a-ground +down an' kept under fur so long thet it'll take more'n 'un gin'ration +ter bring him up. 'Tain't his fault thet he's no more sperit, an' +p'raps 'tain't ourn--thet is, them on us as uses 'em right--but it war +the fault uv yer fader an' mine--yer fader stole 'em, and mine bought +'em, an' the' both made cattle uv 'em." + +"But I had supposed the black was better fitted by nature for hard +labor, in a hot climate, than the white?" + +"Wal, he arn't, an' I knows it. Th' d----d parsons an' pol'tishuns say +thet, but 'tain't so. I kin do half agin more work in a day then th' +best nig' I've got, an' I've dun it, tu, time an' agin, an' it didn't +hurt me nuther. Ye knows ef a man hev a wife and young 'uns 'pendin' on +him, an' arn't much 'forehanded, he'll work like th' devil. I've dun it, +and ye hev ef ye war ever put ter it; but th' nig's, why the' hain't got +no wives and young 'uns ter work fur--the law doan't 'low 'em ter hev +any--the' hain't nary a thing but thar carcasses, an' them's thar +masters'." + +"You say a man works better for being free; then you must think 'twould +be well to free the negroes?" + +"In coorse, I does. Jest luk at them nig's o' mine; they're ter all +'tents an' purposes free, 'case I use 'em like men, an' the' knows the' +kin go whenever the' d----d please. See how the' work--why, one on 'em +does half as much agin as ony hard-driv' nigger in creation." + +"What would you do with them, if they were _really_ free?" + +"Du with 'em? why, hire 'em, an' make twice as much eout on 'em as I +does now." + +"But I don't think the two races were meant to live together." + +"No more'n the' warn't. But 'tain't thar fault thet they's har. We +hain't no right ter send 'em off. We orter stand by our'n an' our +faders' doin's. The nig' keers more fur his hum, so durned pore as it +ar', then ye or I does fur our'n. I'd pack sech off ter Libraria or th' +devil, as wanted ter go, but I'd hev no 'pulsion 'bout it." + +"Why, my good friend, you're half-brother to Garrison. You don't talk to +your neighbors in this way?" + +"Wal; I doan't;" he replied, laughing. "Ef I dun it, they'd treat me to +a coat uv tar, and ride me out uv th' deestrict raather sudden, I +reckon; but yer a Nuthener, an' the' all take nat'rally ter freedum, +excep' th' d----d dough-faces, an' ye aren't one on 'em, I'll swar." + +"Well, I'm not. Do many of your neighbors think as you do?" + +"Reckon not many round har; but op in Cart'ret, whar I cum from, heaps +on 'em do, though the' darn't say so." + +By this time we had reached the still, and, directing his attention to +the enormous quantity of rosin that had been run into the pit which I +have spoken of, I asked him why he threw so much valuable material away. + +"Wal, 'tain't wuth nothin' har. Thet's th' common, an' it won't bring in +York, now, more'n a dollar forty-five. It costs a dollar an' two bits +ter get it thar, and pay fur sellin' on it, an' th' barr'l's wuth th' +diff'rence. I doan't ship nuthin wuss nor No. 2." + +"What is No. 2?" + +He took the head from one of the barrels, and with an adze cut out a +small piece, then handing me the specimen, replied: + +"Now hole thet up ter th' sun. Ye'll see though its yaller, it's clean +and clar. Thet's good No. 2, what brings now two dollars and two bits, +in York, an' pays me 'bout a dollar a barr'l, its got eout o' second yar +dip, an' as it comes eout uv th' still, is run through thet ar +strainer," pointing to a coarse wire seive that lay near. "Th' common +rosum, thet th' still's runnin' on now, is made eout on th' yaller +dip--thet's th' kine o' turpentine thet runs from th' tree arter two +yars' tappin'--we call it yallar dip ca'se it's allers dark. We doant +strain common 't all, an' it's full uv chips and dirt. It's low now, but +ef it shud ever git up, I'd tap thet ar' heap, barr'l it up, run a +little fresh stilled inter it, an' 'twould be a'most so good as new." + +"Then it is injured by being in the ground." + +"Not much; it's jest as good fur ev'rything but makin' ile, puttin it in +the 'arth sort o' takes th' sap eout on it, an' th' sap's th' ile. +Natur' sucks thet eout, I s'pose, ter make th' trees grow--I expec' my +bones 'ill fodder 'em one on these days." + +"Rosin is put to very many uses?" + +"Yes, but common's used mainly for ile and soap, th' Yankees put it +inter hard yaller soap, 'case it makes it weigh, an' yer folks is up +ter them doin's," and he looked at me and gave a sly laugh. I could not +deny the "hard" impeachment, and said nothing. Taking a specimen of very +clear light-colored rosin from a shelf in the still-house, I asked him +what that quality was worth. + +"Thet ar brought seven dollars, for two hundred an' eighty pounds, in +York, airly this yar. It's th' very best No. 1; an' its hard ter make, +'case ef th' still gets overhet it turns it a tinge. Thet sort is run +through two sieves, the coarse 'un, an' thet ar," pointing to another +wire strainer, the meshes of which were as fine as those of the flour +sieve used by housewives. + +"Do your seven field hands produce enough 'dip' to keep your still a +running?" + +"No, I buys th' rest uv my naboors who haint no stills; an' th' Cunnel's +down on me 'case I pay 'em more'n he will; but I go on Franklin's +princerpel: 'a nimble sixpence's better'n a slow shillin.' A great ole +feller thet, warn't he? I've got his life." + +"And you practice on his precepts; that's the reason you've got on so +well." + +"Yas, thet, an' hard knocks. The best o' doctrin's am't wuth a d----n +ef ye doan't work on 'em." + +"That is true." + +We shortly afterward went to the house, and there I passed several hours +in conversation with my new friend and his excellent wife. The lady, +after a while, showed me over the building. It was well-built, +well-arranged, and had many conveniences I did not expect to find in a +back-woods dwelling. She told me its timbers and covering were of +well-seasoned yellow pine--which will last for centuries--and that it +was built by a Yankee carpenter, whom they had "'ported" from +Charleston, paying his fare, and giving him his living, and two dollars +and a half a day. It had cost as near as she "cud reckon, 'bout two +thousan' dollars." + +It was five o'clock, when, shaking them warmly by the hand, I bade my +pleasant friends "good-bye," and mounting my horse rode off to the +Colonel's. + +[Footnote J: The whiskey was kept in a back room, above ground, because the +dwelling had no cellar. The fluid was kept safely, under lock and key, +and the farmer accounted for that, by saying that his negroes would +steal nothing but whiskey. Few country houses at the South have a +cellar--that apartment deemed so essential by Northern housekeepers. The +intervening space between the ground and the floor is there left open, +to allow of a free circulation of air.] + +[Footnote K: No regular dinner-hour is allowed the blacks on most +turpentine plantations. Their food is usually either taken with them to +the woods, or carried there by house servants, at stated times.] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE BURIAL OF "JULE." + + +The family were at supper when I returned to the mansion, and, entering +the room, I took my accustomed place at the table. None present seemed +disposed to conversation. The little that was said was spoken in a low, +subdued tone, and no allusion was made to the startling event of the +day. At last the octoroon woman asked me if I had met Mrs. Barnes at the +farmer's. + +"Yes," I replied, "and I was greatly pleased with her. She seems one of +those rare women who would lend grace to even the lowest station." + +"She _is_ a rare woman; a true, sincere Christian. Every one loves her; +but few know all her worth; only those do who have gone to her in sorrow +and trial, as--" and her voice trembled, and her eyes moistened--"as I +have." + +And so that poor, outcast, despised, dishonored woman, scorned and +cast-off by all the world, had found one sympathizing, pitying friend. +Truly, "He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." + +When the meal was over, all but Madam P---- retired to the library. +Tommy and I fell to reading, but the Colonel shortly rose and continued +pacing up and down the apartment till the clock sounded eight. The lady +then entered, and said to him. + +"The negroes are ready, David; will _you_ go, Mr. K----?" + +"I think not, madam," I replied; "at least not now." + +I continued reading, for a time, when, tiring of the book, I laid it +down, and followed them to the little burial-ground. + +The grave of Sam was open, and the plantation blacks were gathered +around it. In the centre of the group, and at the head of the rude +coffin, the Colonel was seated, and near him the octoroon woman and her +son. The old preacher was speaking. + +"My chil'ren," he said: "she hab gone ter Him, wid har chile: gone up +dar, whar dey doan't sorrer no more, whar dey doan't weep no more, whar +all tears am wiped from dar eyes foreber. I knows she lay han's on +harseff, and dat, my chil'ren, am whot none ob us shud do, 'case we'm de +Lord's; He put us har, an' he'll take us 'way when we's fru wid our +work, not afore. We hab no right ter gwo afore. Pore Juley did--but +p'raps she cudn't help it. P'raps de great sorrer war so big in har +heart, dat she cudn't fine rest nowhar but in de cole, dark riber. +P'raps she warn't ter blame--p'raps," and here his eyes filled: "p'raps +ole Pomp war all ter blame, for I tole har, my chil'ren"--he could say +no more, and sinking down on a rude seat, he covered his face, and +sobbed audibly. Even the Colonel's strong frame heaved with emotion, and +not a dry eye was near. After a time the old man rose again, and with +streaming eyes, and upturned face, continued: + +"Dars One up dar, my chil'ren, dat say: 'Come unter Me, all ye dat am a +weary an' a heaby laden, an' I will gib you ress.' He, de good Lord, He +say dat; and p'raps Juley hard Him say it, an' dat make har gwo." Again +his voice failed, and he sank down, weeping and moaning as if his heart +would break. + +A pause followed, when the Colonel rose, and aided by Jim and two other +blacks, with his own hands nailed down the lid, and lowered the rude +coffin into the ground. Then the earth was thrown upon it, and then the +long, low chant which the negroes raise over the dead, mingling now with +sobs and moans, and breaking into a strange wild wail, went up among the +pines, and floating off on the still night air, echoed through the dark +woods, till it sounded like music from the grave. I have been in the +chamber of the dying; I have seen the young and the beautiful laid away +in the earth; but I never felt the solemn awfulness of death, as I did, +when, in the stillness and darkness of night, I listened to the wild +grief of that negro group, and saw the bodies of that slave mother and +her child, lowered to their everlasting rest by the side of Sam. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +HOMEWARD. + + +The morning broke bright and mellow with the rays of the winter sun, +which in Carolina lends the warmth of October to the chills of January, +when, with my portmanteau strapped, and my thin overcoat on my arm, I +gave my last "God bless you" to the octoroon woman, and turned my face +toward home. + +Jim shouted "all ready," the driver cracked his whip, and we were on our +way to Georgetown. + +The recent rains had hardened the roads, the bridges were repaired, and +we were whirled rapidly forward, and, at one o'clock, reached +Bucksville. There we met a cordial welcome, and remained to dinner. Our +host pressed us to pass the night at his house, but the Colonel had +business with one of his secession friends residing down the road--my +wayside acquaintance, Colonel A----, and desired to stay overnight with +him. At three o'clock, bidding a kindly farewell to Captain B---- and his +excellent family, we were again on our way. + +The sun was just sinking among the western pines, when we turned into a +broad avenue, lined with stately old trees, and rode up to the door-way +of the rice-planter. It was a large, square, dingy old house, seated on +a gentle knoll, a short half-mile from the river, along whose banks +stretched the rice-fields. We entered, and were soon welcomed by its +proprietor. + +He received my friend warmly, and gave me a courteous greeting, +remarking, when I mentioned that I was homeward bound, that it was wise +to go. "Things are very unsettled; there's no telling what a day may +bring forth; feeling is running very high, and a Northern man, whatever +his principles, is not safe here. By-the-way," he added, "did you not +meet with some little obstruction at Conwayboro', on your way up?" + +"Yes, I did; a person there ordered me back, but when things began to +look serious, Scipio, the negro whom you saw with me, got me out of the +hobble." + +"Didn't he tell the gentleman that you were a particular friend of mine, +and had met me by appointment at Captain B----'s?" he asked, smiling. + +"I believe he did, sir; but I assure you, _I_ said nothing of the kind, +and I think the black should not be blamed, under the circumstances." + +"Oh, no; I don't blame him. I think he did a smart thing. He might have +said you were my grandmother, if it would have served you, for that low +fellow is as fractious as the devil, and dead sure on the trigger." + +"You are very good, sir," I replied: "how did you hear of it?" + +"A day or two afterward, B---- passed here on his way to Georgetown. I +had been riding out, and happened to be at the head of my avenue when +he was going by. He stopped, and asked if I knew you. Not knowing, then, +the circumstances, I said that I had met you casually at Bucksville, but +had no particular acquaintance with you. He rode on, saying nothing +further. The next morning, I had occasion to go to Georgetown, and at +Mr. Fraser's office, accidentally heard that Scip--who is well-known and +universally liked there--was to have a public whipping that evening. +Something prompted me to inquire into it, and I was told that he had +been charged by B---- with shielding a well-known abolitionist at +Conwayboro'--a man who was going through the up-country, distributing +such damnable publications as the New York _Independent_ and _Tribune_. +I knew, of course, it referred to you, and that it wasn't true. I went +to Scip and got the facts, and by stretching the truth a little, finally +got him off. There was a slight discrepancy between my two accounts of +you" (and here he laughed heartily), "and B----, when we were before the +Justice, remarked on it, and came d----d near calling me a liar. It was +lucky he didn't, for if he had, he'd have gone to h--l before the place +was hot enough for him." + +"I cannot tell you, my dear sir, how grateful I am to you for this. It +would have pained me more than I can express, if Scip had suffered for +doing a disinterested kindness to me." + +Early in the morning we were again on our way, and twelve o'clock found +us seated at a dinner of bacon, corn-bread, and waffles, in the "first +hotel" of Georgetown. The Charleston boat was to leave at three o'clock; +and, as soon as dinner was over, I sallied out to find Scip. After a +half-hour's search I found him on "Shackelford's wharf," engaged in +loading a schooner bound for New York with a cargo of cotton and +turpentine. + +He was delighted to see me, and when I had told him I was going home, +and might never see him again, I took his hand warmly in mine, and said: + +"Scip, I have heard of the disgrace that was near being put upon you on +my account, and I feel deeply the disinterested service you did to me; +now, I _can not_ go away without doing _something_ for you--showing you +in _some_ way that I appreciate and _like_ you." + +"I like's _you_, massa," he replied, the tears coming to his eyes: "I +tuk ter you de bery fuss day I seed you, 'case, I s'pose," and he wrung +my hand till it ached: "you pitied de pore brack man. But you karnt do +nuffin fur _me_, massa; I doant want nuffin; I doant want ter leab har, +'case de Lord dat put me har, arn't willin' I shud gwo. But you kin do +suffin, massa, fur de pore brack man,--an' dat'll be doin' it fur _me_, +'case my heart am all in dat. You kin tell dem folks up dar, whar you +lib, massa, dat we'm not like de brutes, as dey tink we is. Dat we's got +souls, an' telligence, an' feelin's, an' am men like demselfs. You kin +tell 'em, too, massa,--'case you's edication, and kin talk--how de pore +wite man 'am kep' down har; how he'm ragged, an' starvin', an' ob no +account, 'case de brack man am a slave. How der chil'ren can't get no +schulein', how eben de grow'd up ones doan't know nuffin--not eben so +much as de pore brack slave, 'case de 'stockracy wan't dar votes, an +cudn't get 'em ef dey 'low'd 'em larning. Ef your folks know'd all de +trufh--ef dey know'd how both de brack an' de pore w'ite man, am on de +groun', and can't git up, ob demselfs--dey'd do _suffin'_--dey'd break +de Constertution--dey'd do suffin' ter help us. I doant want no one +hurted, I doant want no one wronged; but jess tink ob it, massa, four +million ob bracks, and nigh so many pore wites, wid de bressed gospil +shinin' down on 'em, an' dey not knowin' on it. All dem--ebry one of +'em--made in de image ob de great God, an' dey driven roun', an' 'bused +wuss dan de brutes. You's seed dis, massa, wid your own eyes, an' you +kin tell 'em on it; an' you _will_ tell 'em on it, massa;" and again he +took my hand while the tears rolled down his cheeks; "an' Scip will +bress you fur it, massa; wid his bery lass breaf he'll bress you; an' de +good Lord will bress you, too, massa; He will foreber bress you, for +He'm on de side ob de pore, an' de 'flicted: His own book say dat, an' +it am true, I knows it, fur I feels it _har_;" and he laid his hand on +his heart, and was silent. + +I could not speak for a moment. When I mastered my feelings, I said, "I +_will_ do it Scip; as God gives me strength, I _will_." + +Reader, I am keeping my word. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +CONCLUSION. + + +This is not a work of fiction. It is a record of facts, and therefore +the reader will not expect me to dispose of its various characters on +artistic principles--that is, lay them away in one of those final +receptacles for the creations of the romancer--the grave and matrimony. +Death has been among them, but nearly all are yet doing their work in +this breathing, busy world. + +The characters I have introduced are real. They are not drawn with the +pencil of fancy, nor, I trust, colored with the tints of prejudice. The +scenes I have described are true. I have taken some liberties with the +names of persons and places, and, in a few instances, altered dates; but +the events themselves occurred under my own observation. No one +acquainted with the section of country I have described, or familiar +with the characters I have delineated, will question this statement. +Lest some one who has not seen the slave and the poor white man of the +South, as he actually is, should deem my picture overdrawn, I will say +that "the half has not been told!" If the whole were related--if the +Southern system, in all its naked ugliness, were fully exposed--the +truth would read like fiction, and the baldest relation of fact like +the wildest dream, of romance. + + * * * * * + +The overseer was never taken. A letter which I received from Colonel +J----, shortly prior to the stoppage of the mails, informed me that Moye +had succeeded in crossing the mountains into Tennessee, where, in an +interior town, he disposed of the horse, and then made his way by an +inland route to the free states. The horse the Colonel had recovered, +but the overseer he never expected to see. Moye is now, no doubt, +somewhere in the North, and is probably at this present writing a +zealous Union man, of somewhat the same "stripe" as the conductors of +the New York _Herald_ and the Boston _Courier_. + +I have not heard directly from Scipio, but one day last July, after a +long search, I found on one of the wharves of South Street, a coasting +captain, who knew him well, and who had seen him the month previous at +Georgetown. He was at that time pursuing his usual avocations, and was +as much respected and trusted, as when I met him. + +A few days after the tidings of the fall of Sumter were received in New +York, and when I had witnessed the spontaneous and universal uprising of +the North, which followed that event, I dispatched letters to several of +my Southern friends, giving them as near as I could an account of the +true state of feeling here, and representing the utter madness of the +course the South was pursuing. One of these letters went to my Union +acquaintance whom I have called, in the preceding pages, "Andy Jones." + +He promptly replied, and a pretty regular correspondence ensued between +us, which has continued, at intervals, even since the suspension of +intercourse between the North and the South. + +Andy has stood firmly and nobly by the old flag. At the risk of every +thing, he has boldly expressed his sentiments everywhere. With his life +in his hand, and--a revolver in each of his breeches-pockets, he walked +the streets of Wilmington when the secession fever was at its height, +openly proclaiming his undying loyalty to the Union, and "no man dared +gainsay him." + +But with all his patriotism, Andy keeps a bright eye on the "main +chance." Like his brother, the Northern Yankee, whom he somewhat +resembles and greatly admires, he never omits an opportunity of "turning +an honest penny." In defiance of custom-house regulations, and of our +strict blockade, he has carried on a more or less regular traffic with +New York and Boston (_via_ Halifax and other neutral ports), ever since +North Carolina seceded. His turpentine--while it was still his +property--has been sold in the New York market, under the very eyes of +the government officials--and, honest reader, _I_ have known of it. + +By various roundabout means, I have recently received letters from him. +His last, dated in April, and brought to a neutral port by a shipmaster +whom he implicitly trusts, has reached me since the previous chapters +were written. It covers six pages of foolscap, and is written in +defiance of all grammatical and orthographical principles; but as it +conveys important intelligence, in regard to some of the persons +mentioned in this narrative, I will transcribe a portion of it. + +It gave me the melancholy tidings of the death of Colonel J----. He had +joined the Confederate army, and fell, bravely meeting a charge of the +Massachusetts troops, at Roanoke. + +On receiving the news of his friend's death, Andy rode over to the +plantation, and found Madam P---- plunged in the deepest grief. While he +was there a letter arrived from Charleston, with intelligence of the +dangerous illness of her son. This second blow crushed her. For several +days she was delirious, and her life despaired of; but throughout the +whole the noble corn-cracker, neglecting every thing, remained beside +her. + +When she returned to herself, and had in a measure recovered her +strength, she learned that the Colonel had left no will; that she was +still a slave; and soon to be sold, with the rest of the Colonel's +_personal property_, according to law. + +This is what Andy writes about the affair. I give the letter as he wrote +it, merely correcting the punctuation, and enough of the spelling, to +make it intelligible. + +"W'en I hard thet th' Cunel hadent leff no wil, I was hard put what ter +dew; but arter thinkin' on it over a spell, I knowed shede har on it +sumhow; so I 'cluded to tel har miseff. She tuk on d----d hard at +fust, but arter a bit, grew more calm like, and then she sed it war +God's wil, an' she wudent komplane. Ye nows I've got a wife, but wen the +ma'am sed thet, she luk'd so like an angel, thet d----d eff I cud help +puttin' my arms round har, an' hugin' on har, till she a'moste +screeched. Wal, I toled har, Id stan' by har eff evrithing went ter +h--l--an I wil, by ----. + +"I made up mi minde to onst, what ter dew. It war darned harde work tur +bee'way from hum jess then, but I war in fur it; soe I put ter +Charleston, ter see th' Cunel's 'oman. Wal, I seed har, an' I toled har +how th' ma'am felte, an' how mutch shede dun at makein' th' Cunel's +money--(she made nigh th' hul on it, 'case he war alers keerles, an' tuk +no 'count uv things; eff tadent ben fur thet, hede made a wil,) an' I +axed har ter see thet the ma'am had free papers ter onst. An' whot der +ye 'spoze she sed? Nuthin, by ---- 'cept she dident no nuthin' 'bout +bisniss, an' leff all uv sech things ter har loryer. Wal, then I went +ter him--he ar one on them slick, ily, seceshun houn's, who'd sell thar +soles fur a kountterfit dollar--an' he toled me, th' 'ministratur hadent +sot yit, an' he cudent dew nuthin til he hed. Ses I: 'ye mean th' +'ooman's got ter gwo ter th' hi'est bider?' 'Yas,' he sed, 'the Cunel's +got dets, an' the've got ter bee pade, an' th' persoonel prop'ty muste +bee sold ter dew it.' Then I sed, 'twud bee sum time fore thet war dun, +an' the 'ooman's 'most ded an' uv no use now; 'what'll ye _hire_ har tur +me fur.' He sed a hun'red for sicks months. I planked down the money +ter onst, an' put off. + +"I war bilin' over, but it sumhow cum inter my hed thet the Cunnel's +'ooman cudn't bee _all_ stun; so I gose thar agin; an' I toled har what +the loryer sed, an' made a reg'lar stump-'peal tew har bettar natur. I +axed har eff she'd leff the 'ooman who'd made har husban's fortun, who +war the muther ov his chil'ren, who fur twenty yar, hed nussed him in +sickness, an' cheered him in healtf; ef shede let _thet 'ooman_, bee +auckyund off ter th' hi'est bider. I axed al thet, an' what der ye think +she sed, Why jest this. '_I_ doant no nuthin' bout it, Mister Jones. Ye +raily must talke ter mi loryer; them maters I leaves 'tirely ter him.' +Then, I sed, I 'spozed the niggers war ter bee advertist. 'O, yas!' she +sed, (an' ye see, she know'd a d----d site 'bout _thet_), 'all on 'em +muss be solde, 'case, ye knows, I never did luv the kuntry,--'sides _I_ +cud'ent karry on the plantashun, no how.' Then, sed I: 'the Orlean's +traders 'ill be thar--an' she wunt sell fur but one use, fur she's +hansum yit; an' ma'am, ye wunt leff a 'ooman as white as you is, who fur +twenty yar, hes ben a tru an' fatheful _wife_ tar yer own ded husban,' +(I shudn't hev put thet in, but d----d ef I cud help it,) ye wunt put +_har_ up on the block, an' hev har struck down ter the hi'est bider, ter +bee made a d---- d---- on?' + +"Wal, I s'pose she hadent forgot thet, fur more'n twelve yar, the Cunnel +hed _luv'd_ t'other 'ooman, an' onely _liked_ har; fur w'en I sed thet, +har ize snapped like h--l, an' she screetched eout thet she dident 'low +no sech wurds in har hous', an' ordurd me ter leave. Mi'tey sqeemish +thet, warn't it? bein' as shede ben fur so mony yar the Cunnel's ----, +an' th' tuther one his raal wife. + +"Wal, I _did_ leav'; but I left a piece of mi mind a-hind. I toled har +I'de buy that ar 'ooman ef she cost all I war wuth and I had ter pawne +my sole ter git the money; an' I added, jess by way ov sweet'nin' the +pill, thet I ow'd all I hed ter har husband, an' dident furget _my_ +debts ef she did _her'n_, an' ef his own wife disgraced him, I'd be +d----d ef _I_ wud. + +"Wal, I've got th' ma'am an' har boy ter hum, an' my 'ooman hes tuk ter +har a heep. I doant no w'en the sale's ter cum off, but ye may bet hi' +on my beein' thar; an' I'll buy har ef I hev ter go my hull pile on har, +an' borrer th' money fur ole Pomp. But _he'll_ go cheap, 'case the +Cunnel's deth nigh dun him up. It clean killed Ante Lucey. She never +held her hed up arter she heerd 'Masser Davy' war dead, fur she sot har +vary life on him. Don't ye fele consarned 'bout the ma'am--I knows ye +sot hi' on har--_I'll buy har_, shore. Thet an' deth ar th' onely things +thet I knows on, in this wurld, jess now, that ar SARTIN." + +Such is Andy's letter. Mis-spelled and profane though it be, I would not +alter a word or a syllable of it. It deserves to be written in +characters of gold, and hung up in the sky, where it might be read by +all the world. And it _is_ written in the sky--in the great +record-book--and it will be read when you and I, reader, meet the +assembled universe, to give account of what _we_ have done and written. +God grant that our record may show some such deed as that! + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE PINES*** + + +******* This file should be named 22960.txt or 22960.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/9/6/22960 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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