^ o \^ 
 
 "'/'^ 
 
 
 
 ' ' o 
 
 
 

"llcwoni to the coll. Tlie slavo-fclnn and the man of Go<l conrroiitci 
 M'li other." Sei^ paafi l'7'). 
 
THE 
 
 ROYING EDITOR: 
 
 TALKS WITH SLAVES 
 
 IN 
 
 THE SOUTHERN STATES. 
 
 JAMES RBPl'ATII. 
 
 'With the strong arm and giant giasp, 'tis wtaug 
 To crush the feeble, unresisting tluong. 
 Who pities not the fallen, let him fear, 
 Lest, if he fall, no friendly Imnd be near : 
 Wlio sows ill actions and of blessing dreams, 
 Fosters vain phantasies and idly schemes. 
 Unstop thy ears ! thy people's wants relieve I 
 If not, a day shall come when all their right 
 
 ceive." 
 
 Sadi. 
 
 i 
 
 ietojarli: 
 
 A. B. BUEDICK, PUBLISIIEE, 
 
 8 SPRUCE STREET. 
 
 1850. 
 
Entebbd according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 
 3Ai.I^b Kb-DPATH, 
 
 la the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern DiBti-ictof New York. 
 
 Geo. Rusrki.l & Co., Printers. 
 
DEDICATIO]^. 
 
 To Captain John Brown, Senior, of Kausas : 
 
 To you, Old Hero, I dedicate this record of my Talks 
 with the Slaves in the Southern States. 
 
 To yoQ is due our homage for first showing how, and 
 how alone, the gigantic crime of our age and nation can 
 be effectually blotted out from our soil forever. You have 
 proven that the slaver has a soul as cowardly as his own 
 " domestic institution ;" you have shown how contemptible 
 he is as a foe before the rifle of the earnest freeman. 
 With your sword of the Lord and of Gideon you met him 
 face to face ; with a few ill-clad and ill-armed footmen, you 
 routed his well-mounted and well-armed hosts. 
 
 I admire you for your dauntless bravery on the field ; 
 but more foryourreligiousintegrity of character and resolute 
 energy of anti-slavery zeal. Rifle in hand, you put the 
 brave young men of Kansas to shame ; truth in heart, you 
 rendered insignificant the puerile programmes of anti-slavery 
 politicians. 
 
 You have no confidence in any man, plan or party that 
 ignores moral principle as the soul of its action. You 
 well know that an Organized Iniquity can never be des- 
 troyed by any programme of action which overlooks the 
 fact that it is a crime, and is tiierefore to be eradicated with- 
 out compromise, commiseration or delay. This, also, is my 
 belief. Hence do I doubt the ultimate efficacy of any politi- 
 
IV DEDICATION. 
 
 cal anti-slavery action which is founded on Expediency — 
 the morals of the counting-room — and hence, also, I do 
 not hesitate to urge the friends of the slave to incite insur- 
 rections, and encourage, in the North, a spirit which shall 
 ultimate in civil and servile wars. I think it unfair that 
 the American bondman should have no generous Lafayette. 
 What France was to us in our hour of trial, let the North 
 be to the slave to-day. The oppressions of which the men 
 of '76 complained through the muzzles of their guns and 
 with the points of their bayonets, were trifling — unworthy 
 of a moment's discussion — as compared with the cruel and 
 innumerable wrongs which the negroes of the South now 
 endure. If the fathers were justified in their rebellion, how 
 much more will the slaves be justifiable in their insurrection ? 
 You, Old Hero ! believe that the slave should be aided and 
 urged to insurrection, and hence do I lay this tribute at 
 your feet. 
 
 You are unwilling to ignore the rights of the slave for 
 any reason — any " constitutional guarantees " — any plea of 
 vested rights — any argument of inferiority of race — any 
 sophistry of Providential overrulings, or pitiable appeals for 
 party success. You are willing to recognize the negro as a 
 ^-brother, however inferior in intellectual endowments ; as 
 having rights, which, to take away, or withhold, is a crime 
 that should be punished without mercy — surely — promptly 
 — by law, if we can do it ; over it, if more speedily by such 
 action ; peacefully if we can, but forcibly and by bloodshed 
 if we must ! So am I. 
 
 You went to Kansas, when the troubles broke out there 
 — not to "settle" or "speculate" — or from idle curiosity: 
 but for one stern, solitary purpose — to have a shot at the 
 South. So did I. 
 
 To you, therefore, my senior in years as in services to the 
 slave, I dedicate this work. 
 
 James Eedpath. 
 
 Malden, Massachusetts. 
 
MY CREED. 
 
 In order that no man, or body of men, may be injured or 
 misrepresented by unfair presentations or perversions of my 
 creed, or induced to peruse the pages that follow, under 
 false impressions or pretences, I will here briefly state my 
 political, or rather my revolutionary Faith : 
 
 I am a Kepublican — and something more. I am inflexibly 
 opposed to the extension of slavery ; but equally do I 
 oppose the doctrine of its protection in States where it 
 already exists. Non-intervention and protection are practi- 
 cally synonymous. Let slavery alone, and it lives a century. 
 Fight it, and it dies. Any weapons will kill it, if kept 
 ever active : fire or water — bayonets or bullion — the sol- 
 dier's arm or the writer's pen. To prevent its extension 
 merely, will never destroy it. If it is right that slavery 
 should exist in Georgia, it is equally right to extend it into 
 Kansas. If the inter-state traffic in human beings is right, 
 equally just is the demand for re-opening the slave trade. 
 
 I am an Emancipationist — and something more. I be- 
 lieve slavery to be a curse, which it is desirable to speedily 
 abolish. But to Gradual Emancipation I am resolutely 
 antagonistic. For I regard property in man as robbery of 
 man ; and I am not willing that our robbers should give 
 notes on time — for freedom and justice at thirty days, or 
 thirty years, or any other period : rather let them be sitiit- 
 
 5 
 
VI MY CREED. 
 
 ten down where they stand, and the rights that they have 
 wrested from their slaves, be wrested — if necessary — with 
 bloodshed and violence, with the torch aud the rifle, from 
 them. 
 
 I am an American — and something more. I think it 
 wrong to give to foreigners the rights that we deny to 
 native-born Americans. I think it wrong and tyrannical for 
 one class of persons — sometimes citizens of foreign birth — 
 to vote for, disfranchise, whip, sell, buy, breed for market, 
 and otherwise degrade the colored natives of our Southern 
 soil. I regard the decision of Judge Taney, and his brethren, 
 as not infamous only, but insulting to our national character. 
 I would extend to all Americans, without distinction of color 
 or creed, the inalienable birthright of whistling Yankee 
 Doodle, and hurrahing, with heart-felt emphasis, on the 
 Fourth of July, and after every presidential election — unless 
 Buchanan is again a successful candidate. 
 
 I am an Abolitionist — and something more. I am in 
 favor, not only of abolishing the Curse, but of making repara- 
 tion for the Crime. Not an Abolitionist only, but a Repara- 
 tionist. The negroes, I hold, have not merely the inalien- 
 able right to be free, but the legal right of compensation 
 for their hitherto unrequited services to the South. I more 
 than agree with the Disunion Abolitionists. They are in 
 favor of a free Northern Republic. So am 1. But as to 
 boundary lines we differ. While tliey would fix the 
 Southern boundary of their free Republic at the dividing 
 line between Ohio and Kentucky, Virginia and the Key- 
 stone State, I would wash it with the warm waters of the 
 Gulf of Mexico. " But what shall we do with the slaves V 
 Make free men of them. ** And with the slaveholding 
 class ?" Abolish them. " And with the Legrees of the 
 plantations V Them, annihilate ! Drive them into the sea, 
 as Christ once drove the swine ; or chase them into the 
 dismal swamps and black morasses of the South. " Any- 
 where — anywhere — out of the world !" 
 
MY CEEED. Vli 
 
 I am a Peoce-Man — and something more. I would figbt 
 and kill for the sake of peace. Now, slavery is a state 
 of perpetual war. 
 
 I am a Nou-Resistant — and something more. I would 
 slay every man who attempted to resist the liberation of the 
 slave. 
 
 I am a Democrat — and nothing more. I believe in 
 humanity and human rights. I recognize nothing as so 
 sacred on earth. Rather than consent to the infringement 
 of the most insignificant or seemingly unimportant of human 
 rights, let races be swept from the face of the earth — let 
 nations be dismembered — let dynasties be dethroned — let 
 laws and governments, religions and reputations be cast out 
 and trodden under feet of men ! 
 
 This is my creed. For myself, I am an earnest man. If 
 you think proper, now, to accompany me — come on ; if not, 
 au revoir — and may the Lord have mercy on your soul I 
 
 1* 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 MY FIRST TRIP. 
 
 I. — Virginia. 
 
 A Word before starting — I start — Richmond — Thoughts in a Graveyard 
 — A Sherift''s Advertisement — A Slave Sale — The Auctioneer — A 
 Toung Girl — Her Educational Attainments — Son of a Gun— No 
 Thing else — Two Girls Sold — The Angry Slave Trustee — Of a Run- 
 away and Mint Juleps — A Man publicly stripped and " examined ' 
 — Virtue at a discount, 1-10 
 
 II. — Virginia. 
 
 Talk with a Free Negro — A Colored Liberator — Oppressive Laws and 
 Ordinances — How they Operate— Worthless Free Negroes — The 
 Market Woman — Women insulted — How very contented the Slaves 
 are — About Runaways — The Afi'ican Church — A Dodge exposed — 
 Heavy Hearts and Raw Backs — Deity vindicated against a Divine — 
 What White Clergymen preach to Slaves — How Do unto Others, etc., 
 fared - The poor Whites and Slavery — North and South — Reciprocal 
 Amenities — A colored Exile — A contented Slave — A Corroboration 
 from Olmsted's Book, 11-26 
 
 III. — North Carolina. 
 
 A North Carolina Plantation's Head-quarters — Sovereignty of the 
 Individual in very Full Blast — Two Slaves' Statements — A con- 
 tented and a discontented Slave — The Mulatto — Contentment with 
 \ Slavery — A Colored Preacher's Family — The Negro who would n't 
 be druv — A Boy's Opinion — A Sign of the Times — Advantages of 
 a National Creed — Senator Douglas — A Quotation, 20-38 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 IV. — North Carolina. 
 
 Slavery or Matrimony ?— A Colored Calculation— How the Slaves 
 feel — The old Slave Mother's Reply — The Domestic Institution — A 
 chuckling Kegro — Why Slaves lie— A Patriot Slave — Discontent- 
 Negro Cannabalism — Talks with Whites — Southern Abolitionists— 
 A Slave Pen — A White Slave — An infernal Outrage on Mother- 
 hood — Stir up the Fires — For whom ? 39-49 
 
 V. — South Carolina. 
 
 Charleston — The Sugar House — An Incendiary Paragraph — Bully 
 Brooks and Colored Contentment — Dare South Carolina secede ? — 
 The Consequences of Secession — Punishment at the Sugar House — 
 Charles Sumner's Namesake — Story of a Slave — How he knowed his 
 Parents like a Book — The captured Negro's Conduct — Slaves will- 
 ing to fight — Raised and growed^^Paddling — The Brine Barrel — 
 Humphrey Marshall's Description of an efficient Means of Saving 
 Grace, 50-60 
 
 VI. — South Carolina. 
 
 Salt Water Philanthropy— The Girl who did n't like Ginger — The 
 Good Un and the Nice Ole Gal — A small Family — Not Church-mem- 
 bers and why — Not divorced, and not married, and both — Christian 
 Morality and Slavery — Surprising Ignorance of the Slaves — Con- 
 cerning Napoleon Bonaparte — Europe and the Slave who never 
 heern ob him — Colored Contentment — What the Boys said — The 
 willing Exile — Pro and Con — Slaveholders criminal even if igno- 
 rant of the Moral Law — Savannah — A Slave's Allowance — Expense 
 of supporting Slavery on the Non-slaveholder — A Compliment to 
 the Legal Profession, 61-72 
 
 VII. — South Cakolina. 
 
 The Southern Commercial Convention — Secret History of the Anti- 
 Tribune Debate — Parson Brownlow's great Joke — Greeley and 
 the Counter-jumpers — Sartorial Description of the Author — A 
 sublime Moral — The Tennessee Editor — Parson Brownlow's Pul- 
 pit Pistols — A Southern Opinion of Greeley — The Tribune's cor- 
 respondent an honorary Delegate — Sound and Fury — Turned out — 
 The Dagger Parasol Stem— Planting Potatoes for Posterity, 'zn-Sl 
 
CONTENTS. Xi 
 
 MY SECOND TRIP. 
 I. ^-Virginia. 
 
 Preliminary Words on Insurrection — I start again — Chesterfield 
 County Facts — Social Reunions North and South — The poor Whites 
 and Slavery — Education and Slavery — a Know-Nothing yet wise 
 Negro Boy — Farming Utensils — Guano and Negroes — The Slave- 
 ocracy and the Poor, , 82-90 
 
 II. — YlRGINIA. 
 
 Talk with a Virginia Slave — Contentment with Slavery — Treatment 
 of Slaves on Plantations — An unbelieving Negro— Canada Negroes 
 — Treatment of Free Negroes North and South — Concerning 
 Linen, 01-91 
 
 III. — Historical. 
 
 Is Slavery a Curse ? — A rare little Virginia Book — Thos. Marshall on 
 Slavery — The Black Wave — John A. Chandler on Slavery — A 
 Radical Notion — Henry Berry on Slavery — A Cancer on the Body 
 Politic — Danger ahead — A Damning Confession — Charles Jas. 
 Faulkner's Opinion — Save the West — An Eloquent Protest against 
 Slavery Extension — Influence of Slavery on Free White Labor — 
 Treatment of Free Negroes in Virginia, 98-1 06 
 
 IV. — Historical. 
 
 Faulkner again — Slavery and Freedom compared — A strmrg Passage 
 — Thomas J. Randolph on Slavery — Is Slav^ a Curse? — Slavery 
 a Leprosy — Who would have been greatest ?— Dangerous Property — 
 A beautiful Domestic Institution — Slavery a National Evil, 107-113 
 
 V. — North Carolina. 
 
 Weldon — Talk with a young Slave — Why Slaves do n't run away — 
 Magnetic Liberators — The old Baptist Slave — Separation of Slaves 
 — Why old Slaves seem younger than they are — Colored Content- 
 ment — Murder will Out — A Slave killed on a Plantation — Planta- 
 tion Life — God bless vou, Massa, 11 4-122 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 VI. — North Carolina. 
 
 Wagoner — Talk with a young Slave — Afraid of the Abolitionists — 
 The Axeman — Discontent — Arm the Slaves! — Murder and Tor- 
 ture of Slaves — Work! Work! Work! — About Clothing, etc — A 
 Plan of Emancipation, .• 123-132 
 
 VII. — The Carolinas. 
 
 At Wilmington — In a Fix — Walk to Augusta — The Road — Dis- 
 contentment — North Carolina could be made a Free State — Rail- 
 road Hands — Their Allowance — Allowance of Food and Clothing 
 to other Slaves — " Every Comfort in Health " — Comfortable Sleep- 
 ing Apartments — White and Negro Hospitality — An Incident — 
 Christian Morality and Slavery — A Hospitable Swamp — Postscript 
 about Slaves and other People in the Turpentine Forests, 133-143 
 
 VIII. — Georgia. 
 
 A Plague-stricken City — The Crabbed old Man — Yev got the Yellar 
 Fever ! — First View of Augusta — The Appearance of the City — ■ 
 The Negro of the Cemetery — Why so few Negroes died of Yellow 
 Fever— The Cemetery — Shingle Monuments — The little captive 
 Mouse, 1 44-1 5 1 
 
 IX. — Georgia, 
 
 The Ghost, or the Haunted Cabin — Southern audacity of assertion — 
 The Negro who would n't be Free — The Foreign Population of the 
 South as Slavcmasters — A Southern Requiem, 152-160 
 
 X. — Georgia, 
 
 Self-educated Slaves — Pursuit of Knowledge under difficulties — 
 Alphabetical Truth at a Well — Helplessness at Table — The Cham- 
 bermaid's Opinion — Why Slaves steal — The Fugitive Slave Act 
 — Southern Directions how to make it inoperative — Ditto of the 
 Dred Scott Decision — Is Slavery a Local Institution and an Evil ? 
 — Opinion of Gov. Wilson, of South Carolina — Forward ! — The Pea- 
 nut Sadler's Triumph, 161-170 
 
CONTENTS. XIU 
 
 XI. — Alabama. 
 
 A Journey afoot — Contentment of Slaves in Alabama — Railroad 
 Hands — Their Allowance — Slavery and Chastity — Marriage and 
 Slavery— The Rich Slave— Other Slaves and Slave Sales— The 
 next Lot — Hiring own Time — A godly City, lYl-lYG 
 
 XII.— Louisiana. 
 
 About Southern "Women and Northern Travellers chiefly : also, inci- 
 dentally, of the Higher Law and the old Slave Abraham — Why 
 Northern Travellers in the South so often return home with Pro- 
 slavery Opinions — Four Reasons — Property in Man is Robbery of 
 Man — Slavery a Cowardly Institution — Prejudice of Race — City, 
 Plantation, and hired-out Country slaves — A Black Rothschild — 
 Why the Southern Ladies are Pro-slavery — A Poem by AVilliam 
 North, 177-188 
 
 MY THIRD TRIP. 
 
 I. — Missouri. 
 
 Lynching an Abolitionist — Parkville — Col. Park — The Mob in Court 
 — The Victim — Evidence — Ruffian Law Pleas — Different modes of 
 Punishment proposed — The Lynching done — Riding on a Rail, 
 
 189-198 
 
 II. — A Journey in Virginia. 
 
 From Boston to Washington — Sail to Alexandria — First Impressions 
 — The County Papers — Choice extracts — Mr. Patterson's Reasons 
 for declining — A Slave Girl's Revenge — Price of Personal Estate — 
 My Room-Talk with a Slave Girl — Eli Thayer's Scheme — Virginia 
 PoUtical Economy — Alexandria County — Talk with a Slave, 
 
 199-212 
 
 III. — Fairfax County. 
 
 Alexandria — Final Views — Suburbs of Alexandria — A small Farm — 
 Cost of Slave Labor — An Absentee Farm — Farming in Virginia — 
 Talk about Free Labor — Irishmen in Virginia — Irish Girls as Helps 
 — Northern Emigrants — Notes by the Way — Talk with a Slave — A 
 nigger's worth a hundred dollars first time he can holler, 213-2'25 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 IV. — Fairfax County. 
 
 Fairfax Court House — A White Slave — His Story — Northern Rene- 
 gades — Price of Inanimate Real Estate — Free and Slave Labor — A 
 Virginian on Yankees — System of Farming — Amalgamation — 
 Hordes of Abolitionists, perhaps^ in Virginia, 226-535 
 
 V. — Fauquier County, etc. 
 
 Prince William County — Facts — Education and Theologism — A Free 
 Colored Farmer — Ignorance of People — Xegro driving of Horses — 
 In H el ! — Need of White Labor— Charlottesville, 236-244 
 
 VI. — Richmond. 
 
 Richmond — Christian Advertisements — A Sign of the Times — The 
 Slave Auction Room — The Auctioneer — A Boy Sold — "Been exam- 
 ining her" — " How Niggers has riz " — Jones and Slater — A Mother 
 on the Block — A young Spartan Maiden — A Curse on Virginia, 
 
 245-254 
 
 IN MY SANCTUM, 
 
 I.— General Results. 
 
 Another Trip to come — Physical Science and Slavery — No hope of 
 AboUtion from Scientific Development — Nor from Prevention of 
 Extension— Character of the Field Negroes— Degradation — Licen- 
 tiousness — Prevalence of Amalgamation— Liars— Slave Huts filthy 
 —Deception — Pious Slaves — Free Negroes— Slave Preachers— An 
 extract from a Colored Doctor's Sermon — A Boy's Mistress — The 
 Poor Whites and Slavery — Crowding poor People out — An Alabama 
 Farmer's Story — Southern Pauperism — Slaves, not Negroes, who 
 are lazy — Overseers — Their general Character — Southern Testimony 
 Sometimes selected with special reference to their robust physi- 
 cal Condition to improve the Stock — The Southern Slave Code — 
 How it fosters Cruelty and prevents its Punishment — Women em- 
 ployed at Field Labor — A Negro burned to Death — No Chance of 
 Justice for Negroes in courts of law against White Men— A South- 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 ern Gubernatorial Confession of this fact — Slave Breeding — Col. 
 Benton's Statement refuted by Statistics — A Southern Confession — 
 Who hate Negroes in the Southern States — Can the Southern Sta- 
 ples be cultivated without Slavery? — Proof that they can be — Gene- 
 ral Summary in one celebrated Sentence, 255-268 
 
 II. — The Insurrection Chief. 
 
 This Chapter is a Contribution by the Hon. J. C. Vaughan, formerly 
 of South Carolina, now of Kansas : once a Southern Slaveholder, 
 now one of the truest Champions of Freedom in the Nation. It is 
 a graphic picture of the terror caused by the rumor of an Insurrec- 
 tion, and a vivid sketch of the character of a noble Negro Patriot 
 who was betrayed in an attempt to liberate his race, 269-283 
 
 III.— U. G. T. 
 
 A Southern Underground Telegraph — How it began — Its eflScacy 
 attested by a Southern Gentleman — Its future Destiny, . . . 284-287 
 
 IV. — The Dismal Swamp. 
 
 A Contribution by Mrs. Knox, of Boston — Story of a Canadian Fugi- 
 tive — Why ran away — Slave Shrewdness — The Slave parts 
 
 with his Mother — Runs to the Dismal Swamp — Character of the 
 Runaways there — Description of the Swamp — Wild Animals— The 
 Fugitive's Wife — Preaching and Praying in the Swamp — The Slave 
 Hunters — Murder of Jacob, 288-295 
 
 V. — Scenes in a Slave Prison. 
 
 Extract from a Private Letter from Dr. S. G. Howe, of Boston, to 
 Senator Charles Sumner, describing a Visit to the Prison of New 
 Orleans, and published by permission of the writer, 296-298 
 
 VI. — My Object. 
 
 A Review of the present state of the Anti-Slavery battle— Some Re- 
 commondations, and a closing Question, 299-306 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 
 
 I. 
 
 History of the First Female Slave in Kansas, 30*7-324 
 
 II. 
 
 Felons in Fodder : a Historical Sketch of the Federal Officers in 
 Kansas, 325-342 
 
 III. 
 Slave-Hunting in Kansas— Fate of the Shannon Guards, . . . 343-349 
 
MY FIRST TRIP. 
 
 I. 
 
 A WOKD BEFOKE STARTING. 
 
 1 HAVE visited tlie Slave States several times-thrice 
 on an anti-slavery ciTand. First, in 1854. I sailed to 
 Richmond, Virginia, from JN^ew York city ; travelled by 
 milroad to Wilmington, ^rtli Carolina; and from 
 that port by sea to the city of Charleston. I remained 
 tliere two weeks-during the session of the Southern 
 Commercial Convention. I then sailed to Savannah, 
 where I resided three months, when I returned direct 
 to New York city. 
 
 My second journey was performed in the autumn 
 ot the same year. It was rather an extended pedes- 
 trian tour-reaching from Richmond, Yirginia, to 
 Montgomery, Alabama. 
 
 My third journey was performed last spring, and 
 was confined to Yirginia. My letters, descriptive of 
 this journey were pubHshed in the Boston Daily Trw- 
 veller. They are somewhat different from my pre- 
 vious sketches, relating chiefly to the influence of 
 
 1 1 
 
2 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 slavery on tlie agriculture, education, and material 
 prosperity of a State. Reports of my talks with the 
 slaves occupy in them a subordinate position. 
 
 In this volume alone, of all American anti-slavery 
 or other books, the bondman has been enabled, in 
 his own language, (if I may employ the familiar 
 phrase of political essayists and orators), to " define 
 his position on the all-engrossing question of the 
 day." Almost everybody has done it. Why, then, 
 should not he ? Surely lie has some interest in it, 
 even if it be "subject to the Constitution;" even if 
 his interest is unfortunately in conflict with " the 
 sacred compromises of the federal Compact !" 
 
 My object in travelling was, in part, to recruit my 
 health, but chiefly to see slavery with my own eyes, 
 and personally to learn what the bondmen said and 
 thought of their condition. 
 
 My conversations with the slaves were written 
 down as soon after they occurred as was convenient ; 
 occasionally, indeed, in stenographic notes, as the 
 negroes spoke to me. 
 
 It will be seen that I do not aim at a literary repu- 
 tation. I have only plain truths to tell — only plain 
 words to tell them in. My mission was a humble 
 one — to report. I claim no other merit than fidelity 
 to that duty. 
 
 I most solemnly declare here, that in no one in- 
 stance have I sought either to darken or embellish 
 the truth — to add to, subtract from, or pervert a single 
 statement of the slaves. There may be, scattered 
 throughout these pages, a few minor inaccuracies ; 
 but I assure the reader, on my honor as a gentleman, 
 that if there are any errors of fact, or other errors, I 
 am totally unconscious of them. I believe this book, 
 
m VIRGINIA. 3 
 
 as it leaves my liand, to be a volume of truths, unde- 
 formed by a single falsehood, or even the most trivial 
 mis-statement. 
 
 Let these few words suffice for a preface. 
 
 I START IklY VOYAGE. 
 
 Tlie good steamship Roanoke, after a very plea- 
 sant voyage, in the month of March, 1854, arrived 
 at Richmond early in the morning. 
 
 I landed and strolled about the city. Of the voy- 
 age and of the city I intend to say nothing. Tliere 
 are books enough that treat of such themes. I shall 
 write of the slave class only, or of subjects that re- 
 late to their condition. 
 
 THOUGHTS IN A GRAVEYAED. 
 
 Therefore, one word on the cemetery, which was 
 the first public place I visited. I wondered at the 
 absence of all headstones to colored persons deceased. 
 Julius Csesar, Hannibal, George Washington and 
 Pompey, had no representatives among the citizens 
 interred — none, at least, whose monuments pro- 
 claimed and preserved their names. 
 
 I inquired where the " slave quarter " was. 
 
 " Why," I w^as told, " in the nigger burying- 
 ground. You don't suppose we allow slaves to be 
 buried here ?" 
 
 I did suppose so, in my ignorance of southern 
 customs, but soon discovered that I greatly erred. 
 In every southern city that I have visited since (and 
 I believe the rule universally prevails), the whites 
 and the slaves and free people of color have separate 
 places of interment. 
 
4 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 Cemeteries are separated ; chnrclies are pewecl off; 
 theatres are galleried off: I wonder now, (between 
 ourselves and in strictest confidence), if Heaven, 
 likewise, is constructed and arranged with special re- 
 ference to this hostility of races and conditions of life ? 
 In the many mansions of the Heavenly Father, will 
 there be sets of apartments for Africans exclusively 
 — in the parlance of the play-bills, " for respectable 
 colored persons?"" If there are not, and if the South- 
 ern proslavery divines ever get there, we may ex- 
 pect a second Satanic rebellion against Authority so 
 indifferent to the finer feelings — the refined sensi- 
 bilities — of the slaveholding saints. With such a 
 doughty champion as Mr. Parson Brownlow, in the 
 character of Beelzebub, the coming conflict must be 
 terrible indeed, and will require as its historian, a 
 genius more exalted by far than the author of Para- 
 dise Lost. " May I be there to see !" 
 
 I walked from the cemetery to the Court House, 
 accompanied some distance by a slave, who was 
 whistling, as he drove along, a popular line, which 
 faithfully describes his lot in life : 
 
 " Jordan am a hard road to trabble !" 
 
 Undoubtedly, I mused ; and so, too, was the Red 
 Sea to the Egyptians ! 
 
 I intended to attend the Mayor's Court, but 
 when I reached the hall his honor had not yet 
 arrived. 
 
 On the outer door of the hall, was posted a manu- 
 script advertisement, of which I have preserved a 
 verbatim copy. Here it is : 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 "sheriff's sale. 
 
 " "Will be sold, to the Highest Bidder, on the 2d Monday in April, 
 next, at the City Ilall, commencing at 12 o'clock noon, a Negro Boy, 
 named Willis, to satisfy two Executions, in my hands, against Aaron 
 T. Burton." 
 
 " PuiLLip Blomston, S. D." 
 
 After transcribing this atrocious advertisement, I 
 walked to the auction rooms in Wall street and that 
 vicinity. 
 
 A SLAVE SALE. 
 
 The first apartment that I entered was an old, long, 
 low, whitewashed, damp-looking room, of which the 
 ceiling was supported bj three wooden pillars. There 
 were between thirty and forty white persons present. 
 Seven or eight living chattels were ^' on sale, for cash, 
 to the highest bidder." 
 
 The sale commenced almost immediately after I 
 made my appearance in the shambles. The first Ar- 
 ticle offered was a girl twelve years of age. She was 
 dressed in a small-checked tartan frock, a white apron 
 and a light-colored handkerchief. She was mounted 
 with the auctioneer on a wooden stand, four steps 
 high. The audience was standing or sitting on forms 
 in different parts of the room. 
 
 The auctioneer was a middle-aged, fair-com- 
 plexioned man, with light-blue, lazy-looking eyes, 
 who drawled out, rather than uttered his words, and 
 chewed an enormous cpiid of tobacco with a j)atient 
 and persevering industry that was worthy of a nobler 
 cause. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the body-seller, " here's a girl 
 twelve years old, warranted sound and strong — what 
 d'ye bid to start her?" 
 
6 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 For at least ten minutes, notwithstanding all the 
 lazilj-uttered laudations of the auctioneer, the " gentle- 
 men" who composed the audience did not bid a 
 single cent to start her. 
 
 " Come here," said a dark-complexioned man of 
 thirty, whose face mirrored a hard, grasping, unsym- 
 pathetic nature, " come here, gal." 
 
 " Get down," drawled the auctioneer. 
 
 The girl descended and went to the dark man, who 
 was sitting with his face tow^ard the back of his 
 chair. 
 
 "How old are you?" said the fellow^, as he felt 
 beneath the young girl's chin and pinched her arms, 
 for the purpose probably of ascertaining for himself 
 whether she was as sound and strong as she was 
 warranted to be. 
 
 " I don't know how^ old I'm," replied the chattel.* 
 
 " Can you count yer fingers?" demanded the dark 
 man. 
 
 " Yes," returned the chattel, as she took hold, first 
 of her thumb, then of her forefinger, and lastly of her 
 ring-finger, " one — three — two — ^five." 
 
 " You're wrong ! Tut. Take care," interposed a 
 mulatto, the slave or servant of the auctioneer, as he 
 accompanied her hand from finger to finger. " Now 
 try agin — one — two" 
 
 " One," began the girl, " two — three — four — five." 
 
 " She'll do — she'll do," said the dark man, wdio 
 appeared perfectly satisfied with her educational 
 attainments. 
 
 * Slaves shall be deemed sold, taken, reputed and adjudged in law 
 to be chattels personal in the hands of their owners and possessors, 
 and their executors, administrators and assigns, to all intent and 
 purpose whatsoever. — Code of South Carolina. 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 7 
 
 " Gentlemen ! will none o' ye make a bid to start 
 this gal ?" asked the auctioneer, in an indolently im- 
 ploring tone. 
 
 " Four-fifty," said the dark man. 
 
 ''Four-fifty's bid, gentlemen, for this gal — ^four- 
 fifty — four hundred and fifty dollars — four-fifty — four- 
 fifty — four-fifty — four-fifty — ^four hundred and fifty — 
 four hundred end fifty dollars — four hundred and 
 fifty dollars bid — going at four hundred end fifty 
 dollars" 
 
 "Sixty," said a dirty-looking, unshaven man, with 
 a narrow-brimmed hat on, who looked so tall and 
 slim as to induce the belief that he must be the cele- 
 brated son of A Gun so often spoken of in the quar- 
 rels of the Bowery boys. 
 
 "Sixty!" repeated the auctioneer; "four-sixty — 
 four-sixty — four-sixty — ^four hundred and sixty — ^four 
 hundred end sixty dollars bid — going at four hundred 
 and sixty dollars, and gone — if — there is no — other 
 bid — four h-u-u-n-dred ende " 
 
 " Seventy !" said the dark man. 
 
 I need not continue the report. 
 
 To induce the buyers present to purchase her, 
 the girl was ordered to go down a second time, to 
 walk about, and to hold up her head. She was 
 finally knocked down to Mr. Philorifle, of the 
 narrow-brimmed hat, for five hundred end fifty dol- 
 lars. 
 
 The second lot consisted of a young man, who was 
 started at seven hundred dollars, and sold for eight 
 hundred and ninety-five dollars. 
 
 "A thousand dollar nigger" — so the auctioneer 
 styled a strong, healthy, athletic specimen of South- 
 ern flesh-goods, was the next piece of merchandise 
 
O THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 offered for sale ; but as not more than eight hundred 
 dollars were bid for him, he was reserved for a more 
 convenient season. 
 
 A mulatto — a kind-looking man of forty-five — was 
 next put up ; but no bids were made for him. 
 
 " That's all, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, as he 
 descended from his Southern platform — this truly 
 ''national" and "democratic platform" — "I don't 
 think I can offer you any thing else to-day." 
 
 "This way — over the way, gentlemen!" tolled a 
 strong, iron-toned voice at the door. 
 
 Wo went over the way into another auction-room 
 (at the corner of the streets), and saw two young 
 female children sold into life-long slavery ; doomed 
 to forego, whenever and as often as their masters 
 willed it, all true domestic happiness in this world ; 
 condemned to total ignorance of the pleasures of 
 knowledge, of home, of liberty; sentenced to be 
 whipped, imprisoned, or corrupted, as the anger, the 
 caj)rice, or the lust of their buyers deemed proper ; 
 forced to see their husbands lashed, their daughters 
 polluted, their sons sold into distant States. " God 
 bless you, Mrs. Stowe !" I involuntarily ejaculated 
 in the slave shambles, as I saw tliese children sold, 
 and thought of their sad prospective fate. 
 
 I entered a third room. One man, about twenty- 
 five years of age, "warranted sound and strong," 
 was sold for seven hundred dollars. He was a cap- 
 tured runaway. The owner, or rather the trustee of 
 this slave, cut quite a conspicuous figure in the room. 
 A little, Dutch-built, blue-eyed man, very limber 
 indeed both of limb and tongue. He strutted about, 
 with a little stick in his hand, now here, now there ; 
 talking incessantly and to everybody : his light- 
 
IN yiKGIXIA. 9 
 
 colored overcoat, like the white plume of Henry of 
 Navarre, always visible in the thickest of the crowd. 
 
 It would express but a faint idea of his state of 
 mind, were I to say that he was somewhat agitated. 
 Yery faint, indeed. Angry is equally inexpressive. 
 ''Mad to the bung and biling over," although it 
 has not the sanction of classical usage, is the only 
 phrase which is at all appropriate to the little man's 
 mental condition. 
 
 " Would you believe it, sir !" he snapped at me ; 
 " he actually ran away ; I offered one hundred dol- 
 lars reward, too, and I didn't hear tell of him for 
 two years and three months !" 
 
 I could hardly suppress a smile at the little man's 
 ludicrously angry expression, as I thought of the 
 very virtuous offence that the cause of his indigna- 
 tion had committed. As I saw that he expected me 
 to say something, I exclaimed : 
 
 " Eeally ! Two years and three months. Where 
 did you find him finally ?" 
 
 "In a saloon at Petersburg!" he said; "where" 
 — ^liere he raised his voice so that every one could 
 hear him — " where, I dare say, the fellow made as 
 good mint juleps as anybody need drink!" 
 
 I saw that the slave w^as standing behind the plat- 
 form — wdiich in this room was about five feet high — 
 and that he was surrounded by a crowd of spec- 
 tators. I left the little man angry and w^ent up to 
 the crowd. 
 
 Perhaps, my readers, you may be disposed to doubt 
 what I am about to add — but it is a God's truth, not- 
 withstanding its obstinate non-conformity with some 
 ISTorthern " South-side " views of Slavery. 
 
 The slave was dressed in his pantaloons, shirt and 
 1* 
 
10 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 vest. His vest was removed and his breast and neck 
 exposed. His shoes and stockings were next taken 
 off and his legs beneath the knees examined. His 
 other garment was then loosened, and his naked body, 
 from the upper part of the abdomen to the knees, 
 was shamelessly exhibited to the view of the spec- 
 tators. 
 
 " Tm-n round !" said the body-seller. 
 
 The negro obeyed, and his uncovered body from 
 the shoulders to the calves of his legs was laid bare 
 to criticism. 
 
 E'ot a word, not a look of disgust condemned this 
 degrading, demoralizing and cowardly exhibition. 
 
 "You see, gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "he's 
 perfectly sound and a very finely formed nigger." 
 
 He was sold for $700 — about two-thirds only of 
 the price he would have brought, if his masters 
 could have given him that certificate of soulless 
 manhood which the Southrons style, when they refer 
 to the existence of the passive-obedience spirit in a 
 slave, " a good character." 
 
 A good name is a very unfortunate thing for a 
 negro to possess. I determined, then and there, in 
 my future intercourse with slaves, to urge them to 
 cultivate as a religious duty all the habits which 
 would speedily brand them as men of bad morals ! 
 
 These scenes occurred on the 30th of March, 1854. 
 
35.^ 
 
 II. 
 
 TALK WITH A FEEE NEGRO. 
 
 In walking along one of the streets of Riclimond, 
 I was suddenly overtaken by a shower. I went into 
 the store of a fruiterer and confectioner. He was a 
 free man of color. I soon entered into a conversation 
 with him, ascertained his history, and learned many 
 valuable facts of the condition of the slaves of Rich- 
 mond and vicinity. 
 
 A COLORED LIBEKATOR. 
 
 He was a mulatto of about thirty-five years of age. 
 His eyes and his conversation showed him to be a 
 person kind hearted yet resolute of purpose. The 
 tone of his voice, the expression of his face, bespoke 
 a man familiar with sorrow and cares. He was very 
 intelligent and used exceedingly few negro phrases. 
 He had been a slave, but had bought his freedom ; 
 and since that time had purchased his wife, brother, 
 sister-in-law, with her husband and their two young 
 children. He had been rather favored as a slave. 
 He had had a kind proprietor, who had permitted 
 him to hire himself — that is to say, to pay to his 
 master a certain sum monthly for the use of his own 
 bodily strength and mental faculties, retaining as his 
 own funds whatever he might make " over and above " 
 
12 THE EOVIXG EDITOR 
 
 the sum thus agreed ujDon between them. He had 
 been a porter at a popular hotel, and was lucky 
 enough to soon save sufficient with which to purchase 
 his freedom from his owner. The next money he 
 got was expended on articles of traffic. He prospered 
 in his small retail trade, and with its earliest profits 
 he purchased his wife. 
 
 "Wliat a low state of morals, by the way, does it 
 indicate, when a robber, in fact^ of the lion's share 
 of a poor man's wages is spoken of as a kind and in- 
 dulgent master! How unspeakably mean, too, to 
 live on money thus ungenerously taken from the 
 hard hands of lowly, unprotected toil ! 
 
 "You have acted nobly," I said to him, "in buying 
 seven persons from slavery, and you must have been 
 very lucky to be able to do it, as well as to buy this 
 house." (He had told me that he owned the house 
 and shop we were in.) 
 
 "Ah, sir!" said the good man, in a sad tone, "I 
 wish I could do something more effectual. It's all I 
 live for. l^o one," he added, " can have any idea 
 of how our peoj)le are persecuted here, only on ac- 
 count of their color." 
 
 OPPEESSIVE LAWS AND ORDINANCES. 
 
 " Indeed !" I said, " I wish you would tell me some 
 of the methods employed by the whites in persecuting 
 your people. I Vvill j)ublish them." 
 
 He named a host of them, from which I selected 
 at the time the following particulars : 
 
 1. The oath of a colored man, whether free or a 
 slave, is not admissible in courts of justice. Tliere- 
 fore. 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 13 
 
 If a white man owes a debt to a person of color, 
 and refuses to pay it, it is impossible for the creditor 
 to resort to legal remedies in order to collect it. 
 
 If a white man, from any cause or motive — for 
 the purpose, for example, of extorting money — 
 chooses to swear before a court that any colored 
 person, whether free or slave, has been insolent to 
 him, he can cause the unfortunate object of his malice 
 to be whipped by the public officers. 
 
 If a worthless vagabond, with a white skin, how- 
 ever black his heart may be, enters the store of a 
 free man of color, and steals, even tefore the owner's 
 eyes^ any articles from it, the unfortunate merchant 
 has no legal remedy, unless a white man saw the 
 property thus feloniously appropriated — ^for the fear 
 of the municipal lash restrains him from entering a 
 public complaint or resenting the robbery on the 
 spot. 
 
 Thus the blacks are always at the mercy of the 
 whites — a position which no 'imcolored person, I am 
 sure, would be willing to occupy. 
 
 In stating these facts, my informant related an in- 
 cident which I shall narrate here, as it is at once a 
 most striking illustration of the injustice sometimes 
 practised by " our Southern brethren " toward their 
 colored fellow creatures, and serves to show the 
 practical workings of the laws relating to the oaths 
 of persons of the subjugated race. 
 
 A few weeks before this interview, a white man 
 went to the green market and was putting some 
 vegetable — parsley, I believe — in his basket, wlien 
 the colored woman in attendance asked him if he 
 had measured it ? He turned round fiercely and asked 
 what she meant by insulting him! Next day he 
 
14: THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 took out a warrant, Lad the market woman brought 
 before the mayor, and swore positively, as did his 
 son also, that she had used insolent and abusive 
 language to him. She would have been whipped, 
 as usual, and had her sentence chronicled in the 
 papers as the punishment of a " worthless free 
 negro," if several white persons, who were present at 
 the time and knew her to be an honest inoffensive 
 soul, had not promptly stepped up and swore that 
 she was innocent of the offence charged by the 
 plaintiff. She was therefore discharged; but the 
 cowardly perjurers were not even reprimanded. 
 
 2. Although free men of color pay the same muni- 
 cipal taxes levied on white citizens, they are not 
 only prohibited from exercising any influence in 
 elections, but from entering the public square or the 
 white man's cemetery. 
 
 3. They are prohibited from carrying any offensive 
 or defensive weapons. 
 
 4. Tliey are not allowed to go abroad after sunset, 
 without a written permit from their owners or carry- 
 ing their papers of freedom. 
 
 5. If they violate these regulations they are im- 
 prisoned until claimed by their masters, if slaves, or 
 visited and liberated by their friends, if free. If they 
 are free but without friends to attend to their inter- 
 ests — ^hear this and defend it if ye can, ye " IN'orthern 
 men with Southern principles" — they are kept in 
 jail for a certain time, and then — God help them — 
 they are sold into slavery to pay the expenses incurred 
 by the city by keeping them incarcerated, l^ot 
 many years ago, 2^ free girl from the opposite side of 
 the river, incautiously entered the city of Richmond 
 without her certificate of freedom. She was arrested, 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 15 
 
 kept in prison forty days, and tlien sold into per- 
 petual bondage, for the Southern crime known as 
 '' being at large !" " How long, O Lord, how long ?" 
 How long, O North, how long ? 
 
 6. All assemblages of colored men, consisting of 
 more than five persons, are illegal, and severely 
 punished by the administrators of Southern w-jus- 
 tice. This ordinance is strictly enforced. 
 
 T. Women of color are compelled to endure every 
 species of insult. "White boys often spit on their 
 dresses as they are going to chaj)el ; and when they 
 meet a colored female out of doors after sunset, they 
 conduct themselves still more grossly. 
 
 These are a few — a very few — of the outrages 
 wdiich the colored freeman is expected to endure and 
 does submit to in the civilized, theologized, church- 
 studded city of Richmond, in the middle of the nine- 
 teenth century. Strange — is it not ? Yet, in the 
 free States of the North, the name of Abolitionist is 
 frequently used as a by-word of reproach. Stranger 
 still — is it not ? 
 
 now VERY CONTENTED THE SLAVES ARE. 
 
 In the course of the conversation in which these 
 facts were mentioned, I stated to my companion that 
 I had frequently heard the defenders and apologists 
 of Southern crime in the Northern States, confidently 
 declare that the slaves were perfectly contented 
 with their lot, and would not willingly exchange it 
 for freedom. I asked him if the slaves of Eichmond 
 were contented with their condition ? 
 
 " No, sir," said the merchant w^ith unusual energy, 
 "they are not. I know the most of them. I've 
 lived here for thirty years. First, in a hotel where 
 
16 THE KOVING EDITOK 
 
 I used to meet dozens of tliem every day, and in my 
 store, here, where I see hundreds from every part of 
 the city and the country all the time. They are as 
 discontented as they can he. There's a few of them, 
 though, who are poor ignorant creatures, and have 
 good masters, don't care anything about freedom." 
 
 "How many do you suppose?" 1 asked; "one 
 quarter of them ?" 
 
 " E'o, sir," said the storekeeper, energetically ; 
 " not more than one-tenth." 
 
 "What! you don't mean to say that not more 
 than over one-tenth of the slaves have good masters ?" 
 
 " No, sir," he answered ; " but I do say that those 
 who have good masters are as little contented as those 
 who have had masters^ 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "Kind treatment is a good thing, but it isn't 
 liberty, sir ; and colored jpeople donH loant that Mnd 
 of privileges / they want their Tights^ 
 
 " Do you think," I asked, " that this feeling of dis- 
 content is as strong in the country as in the city ?" 
 
 " No ; not so strong," he returned. " In the city 
 they are more intelligent, and the discontented sen- 
 timent is stronger, because the colored people have 
 more chance of talking to one another about their 
 hardships." 
 
 " Do you think," I inquired, " that the feelings of 
 discontent have increased during your recollection?" 
 
 ABOUT EUNAWAYS. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir," he rejoined, "it has increased a 
 hundred times, especially within the last eight years. 
 When I was a boy, the colored people didn't think 
 
IN VIRGINIA. IT 
 
 miicli about freedom, because tliey were allowed a 
 great deal of liberty ; but now it seems as if the laws 
 were becoming worse and worse for us every day ; 
 we can't enjoy anything now; we can't have the 
 social meetings as we used to have ; and now I tell 
 you, sir, the colored people do tliink about it a good 
 deal. They run away every good chance they can 
 get. I know about a hundred that's gone ]^orth 
 since last ISTew Year ; most of them got away alto- 
 gether, and plenty's ready to follow them." 
 
 '' Do any of them return ?" 
 
 " 1^0, sir," said the freeman, " they've too much 
 sense for that ! You can't tell anything at all about 
 the colored people from what the papers say. 
 Whenever one comes back any whar', they make a 
 string of remarks about it so long." He measured 
 about half a yard with his right hand on his left arm. 
 "But," he added, "they don't say nothing about 
 them that run away — hundreds — and never come 
 back agin ! And jist look at the paragraphs about 
 the trials at the courts here. It's always ' a worth- 
 less negro,' or ' a worthless free negro.' They allers 
 say that, no difference what his character is, or 
 what the character of the white man who appears 
 against him is." 
 
 He pointed to a paragraph of this kind in the 
 Dis'patcli^ and gave me a proof that the white accuser 
 of the " worthless free negro " named in it,was a man 
 of the most disreputable, character. 
 
 THE AFllICAN CnUKCH. 
 
 " I was advised," I said, " by a pro-slavery man to 
 visit the African Church. Is it a splendid concern ?" 
 
18 THE KOV'ING EDITOR 
 
 "Yes, sir," lie rejoined, "it's a very fine church. 
 I thought they would tell you to go there ! They 
 alius do. That's an old game of theirs — ' Go to 
 the African Church' they alius say to strangers, 
 ' and see how happy our slaves are, and how well 
 they dress.' When I was living at the hotel, I've 
 of'en lieerd them say so to strangers. Once a gentle- 
 man from the North said to me, ' Well, you people 
 of color seem very happy. I was at your church 
 to-day, and I really never did see a better dressed, 
 or a happier-looking congregation.' Them was his 
 words. 
 
 " ' Yes, massa,' I said, ^ but aj^pearances is deceit- 
 ful. You don't see their hearts. Many of them 
 that you saw there with happy-looking faces had 
 heavy hearts and raw hacks. They're not all slaves 
 either, as they tell you they are ; one half of them's 
 free people.' 
 
 " ' But they look happy,' the gentleman said. 
 
 u i Yery true massa,' says I, ' so they do ; Sunday's 
 the only happy day they have. That's the only time 
 they have a chance of being all together. They're 
 not allowed to 'sociate on any other day.' " 
 
 "By whom," I asked, "is this African Church 
 supported ?" 
 
 " By the colored people." 
 
 " You have a colored preacher, of course ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ;" said the storekeeper, " colored people 
 are not allowed to enter the pulpit in Virginia. 
 
 (I liave forgotten the name), a colored 
 
 clergyman, once attempted it, but they put him in 
 jail." 
 
 " How much do you pay your preacher ?" 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 19 
 
 DEITY VINDICATED AGAINST A DIVINE. 
 
 " Six hundred dollars a year," lie replied ; " but 
 we don't elect liim. We have nothing to do with the 
 church but to go there, pay all the taxes, and listen 
 to sermons 'bout submission to the will of God." 
 
 '' Does he often expatiate on that duty ?" 
 
 a Yery often — very often. One day I heard him 
 say that God had given all this continent to the white 
 man, and that it was our duty to submit." 
 
 " Do the colored people," I inquired, " believe all 
 that sort of thing ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," he returned ; " one man whispered 
 to me as the minister said that, 
 
 " ' Ilehe d d ! God am not sich a fool .^' " 
 
 " Who elects your minister ?" 
 
 He explained at considerable length, but I lost the 
 greater part of his answer in thinking about the skep- 
 tical negro's vindication of the ways of Providence 
 in its dealings with the colored children of men. I 
 understood him to say that the church was governed 
 by a board of trustees elected by all the churches in 
 the city. Certain it is, that the people who pay the 
 church expenses have neither part nor lot in the 
 government of the church. 
 
 " Some time since," said the storekeeper, " they 
 told us we might have the church for thou- 
 sand dollars. (I have forgotten the sum he named.) 
 Well, we raised it somehow or other, and got the 
 building ; but then we didn't gel? the right of choos- 
 ing our own minister, as we expected." 
 
 '^ Does your white minister always preach to suit 
 the slaveholders ?" 
 
20 THE ROYIXG EDITOR 
 
 " Yes, sir," he said, " always. He wouldn't be al- 
 lowed to preach at all if he didn't." 
 
 HOW DO UNTO OTHERS, ETC., FARED. 
 
 The wife of the storekeeper hitherto had taken no 
 part in the conversation. She interrupted her hus- 
 band, and told me the history of a JSTorthern preacher 
 at present officiating in the city of New York, who 
 was forced to leave Kichmond because he once se- 
 lected as a text, ^' Do unto others as ye would that 
 others should do unto you." He is devotedly loved 
 by the colored 23eo23le of the city, and has cause to be 
 proud of the hatred of the traffickers in human kind. 
 When this clergyman first came to Richmond, he said 
 nothing offensive to the human-property-holders. 
 He paid a visit to I^ew England, and came back 
 what hitherto he had only nominally been — a Christ- 
 ian minister. The first text he selected, after his re- 
 turn to the city, was the Golden Rule. Pie com- 
 menced his sermon by saying that he had recently 
 visited the scenes of his childhood and his early love ; 
 had knelt once more in the Christian church where 
 he first experienced the spirit of religion ; had looked 
 upon the walls of the college where he had been 
 trained to fight the good fight of faith ; and had stood 
 at the grave of his sainted mother. He had felt 
 there, he said, that hitherto he had not done his duty 
 as a Christian clergyman, but he Avas determined 
 now, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, to atone, by his 
 future zeal, for lifs shortcomings in by-gone days. 
 He then s^^oke of the free colored girl who had been 
 sold into slavery for having unfortunately forgotten 
 to carry her certificate of freedom : (the instance that 
 
IN VIKGINIA. 21 
 
 I have ali-eady cited). It had just occurred. 
 " Brethren," he exclaimed, in the enthusiasm of his 
 newly-awakened zeal, " that was not ' doing unto 
 others as we would that others should do unto us !' " 
 Before retiring to rest that night, he received forty 
 letters of remonstrance from as many different mem- 
 bers of his congregation. He was obliged to leave 
 the city. Richmond, with true old Yirginia pluck, 
 would not submit to be reproved for her " peculiar " 
 sins by a E'orthern Christian preacher. 
 
 Tlie wife asked me if I was acquainted with the 
 minister. 
 
 " I am not," I said, " but perhaps I may have seen 
 him in Xew York." 
 
 She went up stairs, and brought down a litho- 
 graphic ]3or trait of him, which she handled w^th a 
 loving care, and looked at with an admiring regard, 
 of which any public man might well have been 
 proud. 
 
 " Such a testimonial," I said, " oh ! Douglas, prince 
 of demagogues — breaker of sacred compacts for the 
 sake of slavery — is more to be desired than ten thou- 
 sand Presidencies. Such a testimonial — nay thou- 
 sands of the like — you, during your life-time, might 
 easily have earned, if, regardless of morality, duty, 
 self-respect, you had not basely sold your soul for the 
 chance of an office !" 
 
 THE rOOR WHITES AND SLAVERY. 
 
 I asked the storekeeper whether the poorer white 
 population of Kichmond were in favor of slavery or 
 against it ? 
 
 " That's a question," he replied, " that can't be 
 answered very easily. Hundreds have said to me. 
 
22 TIIE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 when tliej came into the store, that thej detested 
 slavery ; but they never talk about it to white 
 people : they^re afraid to do so /" 
 
 " Afraid to do soT Think of that, ye ISTew Eng- 
 land sons of revolutionary sires ! In America, " the 
 land of the free and home of the brave ;" free white 
 men of the haughty Saxon race are " afraid " to ex- 
 press their opinions. Ah ! Southern rights are 
 human wrongs ! 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH RECIPROCAL AMENITIES. 
 
 Tlie abolitionists of the JSTorth are often accused of 
 malignantly misrepresenting the sentiments and the 
 character of the people of the South. I was in- 
 formed by the storekeeper, whose conversation I 
 have been reporting, that the citizens of Richmond 
 very zealously inculcate on the minds of their slaves 
 that all that the IS'orthern abolitionists want with them 
 is to sell and cruelly treat them. The JS'orth is pic- 
 tured to them as a place of punishment — a terrestrial 
 hell — Avhere negroes are abused, starved, and kicked 
 about for the amusement of the white race. Aboli- 
 tionist with them is the synonym for all that is vile 
 and odious in human nature. 
 
 The freeman then asked me the true character of 
 the people of the North ? 
 
 I answered as an admirer of her character, princi- 
 ples and institutions might be expected to rej)ly. 
 
 He asked if there was any disrespect shown to 
 people of color ? 
 
 I love the ITorth, but I worship truth. "Wliy will 
 you, men of the Nortli, seal the lips of your southern 
 friends by your conduct to the free men of color 
 among you ? Ah ! if you knew what affectionate 
 
IX VIKGINIA. 23 
 
 natures, what noble aspirations, wliat warm, pure, 
 loving hearts beat beneath the bosoms of the negroes 
 of the I^orth, yon wonld not, you could not harbor 
 much longer the disgraceful and relentless prejudices 
 that now keep you aloof like national enemies during 
 the prevalence of a temporary truce. 
 
 I will not extend this report of our conversation any 
 further. I will merely mention that I was advised 
 by my colored friend to associate as much as possi- 
 ble with the free colored people, if I wished to ascer- 
 tain the real sentiments of the slave population on 
 the subj ect of slavery. 
 
 '' Some of the slaves," he said, " will distrust you ; 
 so will some of the free people ; but don't form your 
 opinion until you ask lots of them. You'll soon see, 
 sir, how discontented they all are." 
 
 I have followed liis advice : with what result will 
 be seen. 
 
 Of this man, let me add all that I now know. Tlie 
 next time that I visited Kichmond, I found him in 
 great distress : he had recently lost his wife. On my 
 third visit, I found that he had sold out and gone to 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 THE CONTENTED SLAVE. 
 
 In Richmond I found one contented slave. As I 
 was going to the theatre (as I was ascending Monu- 
 ment street), I overtook a negro boy of about eight 
 years of age. 
 
 " Come here, Bob," I said. 
 
 I had almost passed him. As he did not come im- 
 mediately I turned round. He was leaning on the 
 
2-i THE EOYING EDITOR 
 
 rails of the public park, grinning from ear to ear — 
 looking, in fact, like an incarnate grin. 
 
 " He-he-lie-e-e-e-he-eli-eee !" grinned Bob. 
 
 " Come here, Bob," I repeated. 
 
 Bobby approacbed and took bold of my extended 
 hand. 
 
 " What's your name, Bob ?" 
 
 " Bill," he grinned. 
 
 " What's your other name ?" 
 
 " Hain't got none !" said Bill. 
 
 '' Are you a free boy ?" 
 
 '' IN'o, I'se a slave." 
 
 " Have you a father and a mother ?" 
 
 " Yes, he-he-e-e-he !" grinned Bill. 
 
 " Who do you belong to ?" 
 
 ''Mrs. Snooks," said Bill. 
 
 " Would you like to be free and go l^orth ?" 
 
 "]J^o!" he said, "I wouldn't go IS^'orth ; I don'^j 
 want to be free ; he-he-he-ee-e !" 
 
 " Were you ever sold ?" I asked. 
 
 " ISTo," he returned, " Mrs. Snooks* never sold her 
 slaves all her life. / donH see what good sellin^ slaves 
 does^^ he added. 
 
 " Kor I ! ... ' Kever sold a slave in her life ' 
 . . Bill ?" I asked with appropriate solemnity ; 
 " will you tell your mistress that a Northerner said 
 she Avas a trump ?" 
 
 " Yes," grinned Bill, " I'll tell her : he-he-he-e-e-e," 
 and he ran away trilling off his grins as he went 
 along. 
 
 So much for the Old Dominion. 
 
 * He gave her real name : of course, I adopt instead a generic title. 
 
IX VIRGINIA. 25 
 
 A CoEROBORATioN. — " Tliej (the blacks) invariably give way 
 to the white people they meet. Once, when two of them, en- 
 gaged in conversation, and looking at each other, had not no- 
 ticed his approach, I saw a Virginian gentleman lift his cane 
 and push a woman aside with it. In the evening I saw three 
 rowdies, arm in arm, taking the whole of the sidewalk, hustle a 
 black man off' it, giving him a blow as they passed that sent 
 him staggering into the middle of the street. As he recovered 
 himself he began to call out to, and threaten them — ' Can't 
 you find anything else to do than to be knockin' quiet people 
 round? You jus' come back here, will you? Here! you! 
 don't care if you is white. You jus' come back here and I'll 
 teach you how to behave — khockin' people round! — don't care 
 if I does hab to go to der watch house.' They passed on with- 
 out noticing him further, only laughing jeeringly. . . I observe 
 in the newspapers complaints of growing insolence and insub- 
 ordination among the negroes, arising, it is thought, from too 
 many privileges being permitted them by their masters (!) and 
 from too merciful administration of the police laws with regard 
 to them. Except in this instance, however, I have not seen the 
 slightest evidence of any independent manliness on the part of 
 the negroes towards the whites. . . Their manner to white 
 people is invariably either sullen, jocose or fawning." 
 
 T. L. Olmsted. 
 
 Dec. 3, 185i. 
 
III. 
 
 NOKTH CAEOLINA. 
 
 My next communication is dated from Charleston, 
 April 4. I transcribe as much of it as relates to the 
 I^orth Carolina slaves. 
 
 I left Richmond on Friday morning, and arrived 
 at Wilmington about nine in the evening. On Sa- 
 turday forenoon I took a stroll into the pine-tree 
 forests by which the city is surrounded. After walk- 
 a few miles I came upon a rice plantation. About 
 half a dozen old wooden shanties, a neat frame house, 
 recently erected, and a large barn in the yard, formed 
 what in tlie free States would be termed the home- 
 stead, but prol^ably has another name here, as the 
 buildings were all intended to hold the owner's pro- 
 perty — to wit : rice and negroes. 
 
 SOVEREIGNTY OF THE INDIVIDUAL. 
 
 1 was extremely thirsty, and extremely curious to- 
 know something about the place, too ; and so, to sa- 
 tisfy both cravings, I climbed over the fence — a rather 
 disagreeable task as well as dangerous, in the present 
 style of gents' nether garments — and then knocked 
 at the door of the new wooden cabin. It was of no 
 use knocking at the door. Dar was no one in. 
 
IN NORTH CAKOLTNA. • 27 
 
 " Massa, you needn't knock dar : open it." 
 
 I turned round and saw — let me see (I am a judge 
 of the price of colored Christians now) — say ' a 'leven 
 hundred dollar nigger' — standing between me and 
 the fence, with his hat in his hand, and a very 
 obsequious face on his shoulders. 
 
 "Look'e here, old boy," I said, suiting my lan- 
 guage to my company — the way to get into favor 
 with it — ^' what d'ye take me for : a woman ?" 
 
 " Oh-eh-eh ! Oh ! 'No, no, no, no, massa ! Oh ! 
 no !" said the chattel timorously. 
 
 " You don't, eh? Then put your hat on as quick as 
 /o mice. Never lift your hat to any one but a lady, 
 and never do that if your wool isn't all fixed slick." 
 
 The slave at once dismissed his dismal expression 
 of countenance, and grinned rather than laughed 
 aloud : 
 
 Ah! massa! he! he! he! you isn't a slave; you 
 kin do as you like ; but ah can't do dat," said 
 Sambo. 
 
 " Are you a married man?" 
 
 '' Oh, yes ! massa ; all was married, but ah didn't 
 like my old woman, and ah lives wid anoder now." 
 
 " Is your wife living ?" 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes, massa." 
 
 ^' You believe in the sovereignty of the individual 
 —eh? old boy?" 
 
 "Dusseno, massa, what dat am," rejoined the 
 black. 
 
 (Stephen Pearl Andrews ! do you hear that? Here 
 is a colored personator of your doctrine of individual 
 sovereignty, who " dusseno what dat mean, massa " 
 Stephen. Enlighten him, pray !) 
 
28 THE KOYING EDITOR 
 
 CONTENT OK 'NOT ? 
 
 " Have you ever been at tlie l^ortli ?'' I asked. 
 
 The eye that had looked frivolous but a moment be- 
 fore, now suddenly flashed with earnestness — it paid, 
 I thought, a very eloquent eulogium on the institu- 
 tions of the North. 
 
 " Ko, massa, no !" he responded in a sad tone of 
 voice, " neber, and I neber 'specks to be dar." 
 
 " You would like to go there ?" I remarked. 
 
 It is very easy to ascertain the opinions of simple 
 people, from the peculiar expression of their eyes : I 
 saw at once that my colored companion was strug- 
 gling with the susj)icion that he might be speaking 
 to a spy. 
 
 "You come from de North?" he asked cautiously. 
 
 " I am a Northern abolitionist : do you know what 
 that means ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, massa," said Sambo, " you's for the slave. 
 Do you tink, massa, dat we'll all get out of bondage 
 yet?" 
 
 " I hope you will, my boy — very soon." 
 
 " Dunno, massa ; I's feared not. I's alius heerd 
 dem talking 'bout freedom comin', but it amn't comed 
 yet" 
 
 " Yoi(^ wish you were free ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, massa — ivc all does.'''' 
 
 " Do all the colored people you know wish to be 
 free ?" 
 
 " Yes^ Tnassa^ they all does indeed.''^ 
 
 I spoke with him a little longer ; looked into the 
 barn where about a dozen persons, of both sexes, 
 w^ere thrashing rice with cudgels, and then I ad 
 dressed another man of color. 
 
IN NOIiTII CAPwOLINA. 29 
 
 " This man," I soliloquized, as I cast my eyes upon 
 the mulatto, '' if he were an educated gentleman, 
 would be a secret skeptic in religion but an orthodox 
 professor ; he would naturally prefer the practice of 
 the law as a 2^1'ofession ; but if he took to politics he 
 would be as non-committal as our democratic aspir- 
 ants to the presidential chair, or even, perhaps, as the 
 editor of a northern national religious paper on the 
 crime of slavery, and its numerous brood of lesser sins. 
 
 "How do you do?" I began. 
 
 He instantly took off his hat. All colored per- 
 sons " away down South," excepting in large cities, 
 do so when addressed by a white man. 
 
 He was very well ! 
 
 I was very glad to hear it — and how did his folks 
 do? 
 
 I forget how he answered — you're not particular 
 I hope? I talked irrelevantly for a time, for I knew 
 it would be useless to throw away my frankness on 
 him. So I put him through a course of Socratic 
 questions. 
 
 He admitted dat freedom am a great blessin' ; dat 
 de collud pop'lation in general — in fact, nine-tenths 
 of those whom he knew — would like berry much to 
 be free; but as for himself he alius had had good 
 masters ; he didn't see how he could better himself by 
 being free. No — no — no — he didn't car about free- 
 dom, he didn't. He admitted, however, with ludi- 
 crously hasty expression of it, his willingness to 
 accept freedom for himself if he were offered the 
 boon. 
 
 " My friend," I said, " will you tell me whi/ you 
 would take it if freedom would not ' better you ' as 
 you call it ?" 
 
30 
 
 THE ROYi:SG EDITOR 
 
 He was puzzled. Burton's acting never afforded 
 me one-half so much amusement as I derived from 
 watching the bewildered and cunning expression of 
 this non-committal negro's eyes. 
 
 " Why, massa," he stuttered, " I meaned that — a. 
 If— I had to take my freedom — eh — if I'se ^Ueeged 
 to, why, I'd— I'd— Atf^^ to take it P' 
 
 I offered him my hat in token of my admiration 
 of this truly resplendent feat of logic. 
 
 " Your answer is perfectly satisfactory," said I ; 
 " I only beg pardon for having caused you to act 
 against your principles by telling the truth." 
 
 I left him amazed at my answer. As I shook 
 hands with the other negro on departing, he said : 
 
 " I's a slave, massa ; that's what I is, and I neber 
 'specks to be free." 
 
 " Keep up your heart, my boy," I answered, " I 
 hope I shall see you in the North yet." 
 
 " Feared not, massa," he returned, " feared not. I 
 only hope to be free when I gets to Heaben." 
 
 THE MULATTO. 
 
 In returning to my hotel I met a mulatto — an in- 
 telligent looking man with a piercing dark eye. I 
 saw that he had not a single spark of servility in his 
 spirit; that if his skin made the middle passage, his 
 soul came over in the Mayflower. 
 
 "What are these birds f" 
 
 I pointed to a couple overhead. 
 
 " Buzzards," said the black man. 
 
 A few more trivial remarks and I asked ; 
 
 " Are you a free man ?" 
 
 " Ko, sir, I am a slave." 
 
 " AVho owns you ?" 
 
TN NOKTH CAROLINA. 31 
 
 but lie hires me out." 
 
 " Have jou ever been IS'orth?" 
 
 " 'No, sir, I never was." 
 
 " You would like to go there and be free, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 He gave me a penetrating look before replying. 
 I seem to have stood the test ; for he prefaced his 
 reply by a remark which three others have made, 
 after closely inspecting my physiognomy : 
 
 " I know you're honest, sir. Til say to you what 
 I wouldn't say to plenty wdio'd ask me, as you've 
 done. Yes, sir/ I would like to go Nortli. What 
 man of color would not ?" 
 
 " I've often been told," I remarked, " by the slave- 
 holders' friends in the I^orth, that you colored people 
 are perfectly satisfied, and rather prefer slavery, in- 
 deed. Is that so? I always thought the colored 
 people loved slavery" — a j^antomimic gesture con- 
 cluded the sentence. 
 
 " Yes, massa," said the slave, " I knows what you 
 mean. They does love it. Over the left." 
 
 "Are the majority of colored people of your ac- 
 quaintance satisfied or dissatisfied with slavery ?" 
 
 " / Icnow hundreds and hundreds^'' he replied, 
 " and almost all of them are as dissatisfied as they 
 Jcin hey 
 
 " Are one-third satisfied, do you think ?" 
 
 "]^o, sir. ISFot more than one-tenth. As few as 
 has good masters doesn't think about freedom so 
 much ; but if they could get the offer, all of them 
 would be free." 
 
 " Are you a married man ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the slave. 
 
 " "Were you married by a clergyman ?" 
 
32 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 '^ Have yon any cliildren ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. I've had thirteen." 
 
 "E-e-eh?" I ejaculated; "yon don't mean that?" 
 
 " Yes, massa ; I's had thirteen, but they all died, 
 'cept four ; it's an unhealthy place this." 
 
 I confess that I was rather astonished at finding so 
 resolute a family man in bondage ; for I thought 
 that the energy he had thus exhibited in the " heavy 
 father line " of endeavor, might also have effected his 
 escape, or at least his self purchase. 
 
 "Did you ever read 'Uncle Tom's Cabin?'" 
 
 "1^0, massa; what is it?" 
 
 Explanations followed — ^but you've read it of 
 course? It's truly a fiction without fiction. 
 
 On leaving, he shook hands, and said, with emotion : 
 
 " God bless you, massa ! God bless you ! I hope 
 de abolitionists will win de battle, and bring us all 
 out of bondage." 
 
 I may state here that the word bondage is very fre- 
 quently used by the colored people to express their 
 condition. More frequently, I think, than slavery. 
 
 I walked on, and at length came near an unpainted 
 wooden house, occupied exclusively by colored peo- 
 ple. 
 
 A COLORED PEEACHEk's FAMILY. 
 
 Tlie family consisted of eight persons — the mother, 
 four sons and three daughters. One son is twenty- 
 one years old ; the eldest daughter is nineteen, the 
 other two female children are under ten years of 
 age. 
 
 They are the children of a colored Methodist 
 " Bethel " preacher, in IN'ew York or Brooklyn, of 
 the name of Jacob Mitchell. lie has, it appears, 
 
IN KOIITII CAROLINA. 33 
 
 been struggling a long time to get money enough to 
 buy liis wife, eldest daughter, and three youngest 
 children. Come ! my Methodist friends of New 
 York, I want you to redeem this lot — to convert 
 them from chattels into human beings. Here they 
 are, for sale for cash — five immortal beings, all 
 church members, and good moral people, too ! As- 
 sist Mr. Mitchell without loss of time ! He has 
 already saved about two thousand dollars ; another, 
 thousand, they say, would buy the " whole cargo, 
 and their blessing into the bargain." Let the three 
 sons escape for themselves ; they are not fit to be 
 free if they make no eflbrt to escape from slavery. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell is a freeman by gift. This family 
 are from Maryland. Some time ago, knowing that 
 they were all to be sold to the South, they made 
 their escape into the semi-free State of Pennsylvania, 
 but were captured, and brought back, and sold to 
 iN'orth Carolina. What a celestial gratification must 
 it be to Mr. Millard Fillmore, and the friends 
 of the Fugitive Shave Law, to know of such triumphs 
 of the true spirit of nationality — such pleasing proofs 
 of inter-national, or rather of inter-state courtesy ! . 
 Great Heavens ! it must be overpowering, over- 
 whelming, overshadowing! Ah! little do our sec- 
 tional and fanatical souls know of the bliss that 
 awaits the Conqueror of his Prejudices in favor of 
 humanity and freedom ! Yery little, alas ! 
 
 Mr. MitchclPs family can read. 
 
 A CnHONIC CASE OF RUNAWAYISM. 
 
 A man of twenty-three, or thereabouts, was labor- 
 ing, might and main, as I entered the room, at mas- 
 tering the mysteries of the first lesson-book. 
 
34: THE KOTING EDITOR 
 
 "Hullo!" I exclaimed, "do tliey allow colored 
 people to learn to read in this city ?" 
 
 "E'o, niassa!" said the sable student, "dej don't 
 lows it : but they can't help themselves. I'll do as 
 I please !" 
 
 " Oh ! you're a freeman ?" 
 
 "1^0, massa, I's a slave; but I w^on't stand any 
 bad treatment. I's run away six times already, and 
 I'd run away agin, if they tried to drive me," he 
 exclaimed with emphasis. 
 
 " Six times !" I repeated. " Why, you must have 
 been very imfortunate to have been recaptured so 
 often. How far north did you ever get ?" 
 
 " Oh, massa, I never tried to get JN'orth. I never 
 ran more than thirty miles, and then I worked, and 
 staid dare." 
 
 " "What did your master do to you when he caught 
 you ?" 
 
 " I ketched it," said the fugitive, " dey lashed me ; 
 but I doesn't care — IwonH he druvP 
 
 He looked as if he meant what he said, too. I ad- 
 vised him, as I have advised at least a dozen darkeys 
 already, to run away to the North at the very earliest 
 opportunity. 
 
 A boy's opinion. 
 
 I had five other conversations with slaves in Wil- 
 mington. I will briefly state the result of each inter- 
 view. 
 
 " How old are you, Bob ?" 
 
 " Tliirteen, sir." 
 
 " Are you free ?" 
 
 " ISTo ; I'm a slave." 
 
 " Would you like to go North ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. I would like to — very much." 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 35 
 
 "What ! don't you like to be a slave?" 
 
 " 'No, sir ; I don't," he said with savage emphasis, 
 
 "I HATE it." 
 
 " Do all the boys yoii know hate to be slaves ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; hut all the smart hoys do. There's only 
 a few, and them's stupid devils, wdio don't care 
 about it." 
 
 "Then, you're one of the smart boys?" I said, 
 smiling, as I placed my hand on his head. 
 
 But the boy was in no mood for smiles. His face 
 exhibited signs of the most poignant grief, as he 
 replied : 
 
 "Well, sir, I wish I was a free boy — and away 
 from this darned mean country." 
 
 Tlie boy was a mulatto. 
 
 A SIGN OF THE TIMES. 
 
 Parson Brownlow, in his recent challenge to the 
 North, reserved the right to refuse to accept any 
 offer to discuss the Slavery Question with a person 
 of color. Tliis fact may yet be cited as a sad and 
 significant indication of our inveterate blindness to 
 danger. For, is it not quite probable or possible, 
 that the colored race alone may yet decide this 
 question, both for themselves and us, and reciprocate 
 the parson's compliment, by refusing to permit the 
 uncolored man to have anything to say about it? 
 When we find that "all the smart boys" of the 
 subjugated race hate slavery with a deadly ani- 
 mosity, it surely is not unreasonable to believe in 
 such a terrible, hut desirahle result. Terrible to the 
 tyrant, but desirable for the sake of our national 
 honor. 
 
36 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 ADVANTAGES OF A NATIONAL CREED. 
 
 Freedom of speech (this passage I wrote at a later 
 period), the freeman's great right of public utterance 
 of thought, even in conversation — for exceptions, 
 however numerous, do not disprove the fact — is 
 a luxury of which the IsTortherner has the exclusive 
 monopoly, and that only in his own Free States, if he 
 cherishes a radical anti-slavery creed, or any Christian 
 sympathy for the negro bondman. How insuffer- 
 able, therefore, the insolence, or the intended inso- 
 lence, which taunts the Eepublican party with being 
 sectional — with having no nationality — with not dar- 
 ing to maintain any political organization in the 
 Southern States ! The ebon oligarchy, having effec- 
 tually crushed out the essential elements of He- 
 publican freedom, exult over the damnable disgrace 
 — throw their harlot taunts at the decencies and vir- 
 tues which, having outraged, they affect to despise 
 and try to make odious by glorying in their own 
 deep shame. 
 
 I regret that the great Kepublican party is not 
 more worthy of these laudatory taunts. I deeply 
 lament that it should tolerate in its ranks any but 
 the deadliest, the most earnest enemies — not of the 
 mistake merely, but the cowardly crime of American 
 Slavery. 
 
 I regret to see the anxiety its prominent politicians 
 so often and so unnecessarily display, to quiet the 
 apprehensions of the traffickers in humanity, by an- 
 nouncing their fixed determination never, under any 
 circumstances, to interfere w^ith the infernal institu- 
 tions where it already exists. Ah! gentlemen! if 
 such bo your creed, God send us another Democratic 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 37 
 
 President! The best friend of the slave, I have 
 often thought, is his worst enemy. Legree hastens 
 the day of emancipation more rapidly than St. 
 Clair. Atchison has done more for the slave by 
 his brutality than Garrison by his humanity. I hope 
 to see the day when the Eepublican party will glory 
 in its hostility to slavery everywhere and always. 
 Until then, its mission must be fulfilled by individual 
 effort and underground transit companies. 
 
 Yet that there cere advantages in a national creed 
 I saw, and thus stated, after reading a speech by 
 Senator Douglas, in which he used in substance the 
 expressions here attributed to him: 
 
 The Dropsied Dwarf of Illinois, 
 
 By brother sneaks called " Little Giant," 
 He who has made so great a noise 
 
 By being to the Slave Power pliant, 
 Upon the Senate floor one day 
 
 " Rebuking " Freedom's friends, did say : 
 " Eepublicans must stay at home, 
 Or hide their creed, so none can find 'em, 
 
 The Democrat alone can roam. 
 Nor leave his sentiments behind him !" 
 
 " Pray why ?" asks Freedom, in surprise, 
 
 " Because " (the Dropsied Dwarf replies), 
 
 " Your ' glittering generalities ' 
 Are odious in St. Legree's eyes, 
 While we such * self-apparent lies ' 
 Reject, and in his favor rise." 
 Ah ! then," said Freedom, " in my rambles, 
 I'll keep away from negro-shambles, 
 Yet you (I see), your creed suits well, 
 'Twill serve you here — and when in Hell." 
 
 Slavery ix N'orth Carolina. — "The aspect of Xorth Caro- 
 lina with regard to slavery is, in some respects, lesa lamentable 
 
38 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 than that of Virginia. There is not onlj less bigotry upon the 
 subject, and more freedom of conversation, but I saw here, in 
 the Institution, more of patriarchal character than in any other 
 State. [Very patriarchal, in the old slave mother's case ! — J. R.] 
 The slave more frequently appears as a family servant — a mem- 
 ber of his master's family, interested with him in his fortune, good 
 
 or bad Slavery thus loses much of its inhumanity. It 
 
 is still questionable, however, if, as the subject race approaches 
 civilization, the dominant race is not proportionably retarded in 
 its onward progress. One is often forced to question, too, in 
 viewing slavery in this aspect, whether humanity and the ac- 
 cumulation of wealth, the prosperity of the master and the hap- 
 piness and improvement of the subject, are not in some degree 
 incompatible." — Olmsted. 
 
IV. 
 
 The next slave with whom I talked was also a 
 mulatto — one-third white blood. The mulattoes are 
 invariably the most discontented of the colored popu- 
 lation. 
 
 SLAVERY OR MATRIMONY A COLORED CALCULATION. 
 
 " I've five children," he said, " but my wife is 
 a free woman, and they are free, although I am a 
 slave." 
 
 Of course the reader know^s that by American 
 law the child follows the condition of its mother. 
 Mother free, children free ; mother slave, slave child- 
 ren. Perhaps the speediest method of peaceably 
 abolishing slavery would be to change (by reversing) 
 this law. Under its beneficent operations the 
 chivalry would be transformed into manifold libera- 
 tors ! 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 " I'm thirty -seven." 
 
 " How do the colored people feel about slavery ?" 
 
 " All the colored people of my acquaintance (and 
 I know them all here), vjoidd gladly le free if they 
 could get their liberty. Say about a third have good 
 masters, and they are not so discontented, of course, 
 as the rest, but ask them at the ballot, or some other 
 
 89 
 
40 THE ROVING EDITOE 
 
 way, so that they could exj^ress their sentiments 
 without fear, and then you would hear such a shout 
 for liberty as never was raised before." 
 
 I will omit my questions. 
 
 "My owner hires me out to hotels. He gets 
 twenty dollars a month for me. I clear besides that 
 about two hundred dollars for myself. About ten 
 years since I took up with this woman." 
 
 He is speaking, of the wife of his bosom ! 
 
 " Were you married ?" 
 
 " Oh yes," he continued, " 1 was regularly mar- 
 ried by a minister. They always do it here. The 
 slaves will be married, and their owners make a ^B.e 
 wedding of it, but it doesn't amount to anything, be- 
 cause they are liable to be separated for life at any 
 moment, and often is. I've often thought this sub- 
 ject over." 
 
 "What subject?" 
 
 " About marrying," he said. 
 
 " Most men do." 
 
 " Well, but I mean different. I see, if I hadn't 
 married, I would have been free now ; bekase I 
 would have had a thousand dollars by this time to 
 have bought myself with. But it took all I could 
 make to get along with my family. Well, they're 
 all free, my sons ar' ; and I'm giving them as good 
 an education as we dare give them ; so that, if the 
 time does come when I'm going to be sold, they may 
 buy me." 
 
 He sighed, and added : 
 
 " When /'m a7i old manJ'' 
 
 1 asked if he did not think of escaping before that 
 time ? 
 
 " 1^0," he said, " I wouldn't run the risk now of 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 41 
 
 trying to escape. It's hardly so mucli an object, sir, 
 when a man's turned the hill. Besides, my family. 
 I might be sold away from them, which I won't 
 be, if I don't try to run away — leastways till I'm 
 old." 
 
 " Are the whites very hard on yon here ?" 
 "Yes, sir, they are very hard on us here. We 
 dare not say anything about being discontented." 
 
 Tliis was the statement of one man, fully confirmed 
 in its general particulars by another slave, of whose 
 domestic relations I asked nothino; and know nothino^. 
 
 THE OLD SLAVE MOTHER. 
 
 I entered a cabin on the roadside. A little child, 
 a slave, with a future as dark as its own face before 
 it (as the poet might have observed, but didn't), was 
 sitting quietly playing on the doorstep. 
 
 " Will you have the kindness, madam," I said, 
 " to give me a glass of w^ater ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, massa," said the old woman I had 
 spoken to, as she set herself about getting it. I did 
 not want it — I only asked for it as an excuse for 
 entering the house." 
 
 " Are you a free woman, madam ?" 
 
 " 'No, massa ; I's not. I's not likely to be," said 
 the old lady. 
 
 " Were you ever at the N'orth ?" 
 
 " ^o, massa." 
 
 " Would you like to go there?" 
 
 She gave a fannily scrutinizing glance : 
 
 " AVe-11, massa, I ca-n't say dat, for I neber was 
 dar,' she returned, in a slow and very peculiar tone. 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 (Wasn't that popping a rather delicate question in 
 
42 THE EOYIXG EDITOR 
 
 a rather summary manner, my fair sisters of tbe 
 l!^ort]i?) 
 
 " I's sixty-two," said the venerable slave. 
 
 (Ladies, lovely, of the JS'orth ! would you believe 
 it ? She actually aj^peared to be of the age she men- 
 tioned — no, not even a single day older.) 
 
 She had had eleven children, but — 
 
 " I's only three I kin see now, massa," she added, 
 mournfully. 
 
 "Have any of your children been sold?" I inquired. 
 
 " Yes," she said, sobbing, the tears beginning to 
 trinkle down her furrowed cheeks, " three on 'em. 
 Two boys were sold down South — I don't know 
 where they is ; and my oldest son was sold to Texas 
 three years since. There was talk about him coming 
 back, but it's bin talked about too-oo-oo " — ^her sobs 
 interrupted her speech for a few seconds — " too-oo-oo 
 long to be true, I's afeerd." 
 
 Her maternal affections w^ere strongly moved; I 
 knew she would answer any questions now. 
 
 "It must have been very hard with you to part with 
 your boys ; almost as hard as when your other child- 
 ren died ?" I said. 
 
 " Almost, massa?" she rejoined, " far wuss. When 
 they're dead, it seems as if we knowed they wus 
 gone ; but when they're sold down South — ah ! — ah ! 
 — massa " — 
 
 She did not finish the sentence in articulate words, 
 but the tears that raced down her wrinkled face, the 
 sighs that heaved her bereaved maternal breast, con- 
 cluded it more eloquently than her tongue could 
 have done. 
 
 " It almost broke my heart, massa," she said, " but 
 we cannot complain — toe's only slaves.'''' 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 43 
 
 A curious wish entered my mind as she uttered 
 these words. I wished that I had the right of select- 
 ing the mode of jDunishing the Southern pro-slavery 
 divines in the world to come. I would give each of 
 them, what not one of them has, a Christian heart, 
 capable of compassion for human sorrow and suffer- 
 ing ; and then I would compel them to look, through- 
 out all eternity, on the ghost of the face of this poor 
 miserable mother, whose children had been sold by 
 their inhuman masters far away from her, and far 
 distant from each other. 
 
 " Oh ! God !" I ejaculated as I gazed on her grief- 
 furrowed face, which was wet with heart-sad tears, 
 " this slavery is the most infernal institution that the 
 Bun looks down upon." 
 
 I did not address this remark to the old woman ; 
 I did not, indeed, intend to utter it at all ; but I did 
 speak it aloud, and she heard it. 
 
 " Yes, massa," she said, " it am infernal ; but we's 
 no choice but to submit." 
 
 "Would you believe it, my old friend," I said, 
 " that your masters, and their white serfs at the 
 North, say you are all happy and contented with 
 slavery ?" 
 
 " Well, massa," she replied, " we has often to say 
 so to people that ask us ; I would have said it to you, 
 if you hadn't talked about my childer ; w^e's afeerd 
 to complain." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so; not half of you are con- 
 tented?" 
 
 " A half on us, massa !" she exclaimed, energeti- 
 cally, "^^, not one quarter^ 
 
 I talked with the old mother for a few minutes 
 longer, and then took her by the hand. 
 
44 THE IIOVING EDITOR 
 
 "Good bye, old lady," I said, "I hope that you 
 will die a free woman with all your children around 
 you." 
 
 A deep sigh preceded the slave-mother's answer. 
 
 " I hope so, massa, I hope so ; but it seems as if 
 this life was to be a hard trial to colored people. 
 I's no hopes of seeing my boys agin this side the 
 Land." 
 
 " Good bye," I repeated, as I retreated hastily — 
 for, to say the truth, I could no longer restrain my 
 tears, and I hated to let a woman see me weep — 
 " good bye." 
 
 " Good bye," said the slave-mother. " God bless 
 you, massa, God bless you ! Yes, massa, and God 
 will bless you, if you is the friend of the slave." 
 
 I find, in a recent number of the Boston Saturday 
 Express^ a simple narrative, in rhyme, of another 
 North Carolina slave-mother's reply. I subjoin it 
 here: 
 
 THE SLAYE-MOTIIEr's REPLY. 
 
 " All my noble boys arc sold, 
 Bartered for the trader's gold ; 
 Where the Rio Grande runs, 
 Toils the eldest of my sons ; 
 In the swamps of Florida, 
 Hides my Rob, a rmiaway ; 
 Georgia's rice-fields show the care 
 Of my boys who labor there ; 
 Alabama claims the three 
 Last who nestled on my knee ; 
 Children seven, seven masters hold 
 By their cursed power of gold ; 
 Stronger here than mother's love — 
 Stronger here, but weak above ; 
 Ask me not to hope to bo 
 Free, or see my children free ; 
 Rather teach me so to live. 
 
; " IN NORTH CAROLINA. 45 
 
 That this boou the Lord may give — 
 First to clasp them by the hand, 
 As they enter in the Land." 
 
 THE CnrCKLING NEGKO. 
 
 I was walking along the river side. A colored 
 man passed me. He could hardly move along. It 
 was evident that no auctioneer could have warranted 
 him to be " sound and strong." 
 
 Two other negroes were walking along. One of 
 them pointed to the slow man, and said, grinning as 
 he said it : 
 
 '' Dat dare fellow am as ill as if he were one of de 
 white pop'lation." 
 
 Now this was very far from a compliment to " de 
 white pop'lation," as the cause of the fellow's lame- 
 ness was evident enough, and said nothing very flat- 
 tering for his moral character. 
 
 I went up to the chuckler. 
 
 " ISTow, old fellow, what were you saying ?" 
 
 The negro grinned, laughed, and chuckled alter- 
 nately for several minutes before answering : 
 
 " Oh, er-r-er-he-he-he-eee !" he laughed, " I was 
 saying dat de white pop'lation would be makin' some 
 remarks on dat 'ar nigger." 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" I answered, " old fellow, how can you 
 lie so?" 
 
 " Oh no, I isn't massa," said the old jolly-look- 
 ing slave, as he relapsed into a fit of chuckling, 
 interspersed by ejaculations of very broken English. 
 
 " Are you a slave, old fellow ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, massa," said the chuckler. 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 "Sixty, massa," he replied. "I's eighteen when 
 
4:0 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 Jefferson war President, and dat war in 1812 ; I 
 mind 'bout de war. De rigiments camj^ed on dat 
 hill. I carried de wood for dem." 
 
 " Have you been a slave ever since ?" 
 
 " Yes, massa, and long afore dat." 
 
 " Would you like to be free ?" 
 
 The chuckling laugh was again put in full blast. 
 He seemed to use it for the pur230se that young 
 ladies reserve their swoons for — to avoid continuing 
 disagreeable conversation ; or, that Senator Douglas 
 uses footpad language on the stump for — to avoid the 
 answering of disagreeable questions. 
 
 "N^o, massa," — a long chuckle — "I'd not like to 
 be free. In de l^orth, de free colored pop'lation isn't 
 able to get 'long widout eating one anoder/' 
 
 "Who told you that?" I inquired. 
 
 " De masters of de ships from dar." (^lle was a 
 stevedore.) 
 
 " You would n't like to be free, eh ?" I replied, in 
 a jovial tone, as I poked him in the ribs, "what a 
 lying scamp you are, old fellow !" 
 
 Hardly had I done so, before I had a realizing ex- 
 perience of the profundity of Shakspeare's ]3hiloso- 
 phy: 
 
 " One dig i' tli' ribs, good, my lord, 
 Makes white and colored men akin." 
 
 Julius Ccesar HannibaVs edition. 
 
 He threw off his dissimulation, dismissed his grins 
 and his chuckles, looked grave, and said, 
 
 " Well, massa, you's a funny man — dat am a fact. 
 I's would like to be free ; but it's no use, massa — it's 
 no use. I's a slave, and I's been one sixty years, and 
 I 'specs to die in bondage." 
 
IN NORTH CAKOLINA. 47 
 
 " Do all the colored people you know want to be 
 free «" 
 
 " Oli^ yes^ niassa," he said firmly, " they all does^ 
 
 OB COURSE. " 
 
 I had a long conversation with him : he spoke seri- 
 ously, gave direct and exj^licit answers to all my 
 questions, and God-blessed me at parting. 
 
 In ^^Torth Carolina, then, I have had long and con- 
 fidential conversations with at least a score of slaves. 
 They all stated, with one exception, that not only 
 they, but all their acquaintances, were discontented 
 with their present condition. He that hath slaves 
 let him think ! !N'egroes have all the fierce passions 
 of white men, and there is a limit set by Deity Him- 
 self to human endurance of oppression. 
 
 TALKS W^ITH WHITES. 
 
 " How do you think the negroes feel on the subject 
 of slavery ?" I asked of a carpenter in Wilmington. 
 "Contented?" 
 
 " Oh," — a very long oh — " yes, they're all content. 
 How could they better themselves ? I know what 
 the ISTorth is. I've travelled all over York and the 
 IS'ew England States. All that abolition outcry is 
 only interest. What does the I^orth care for niggers ? 
 Look at them in New York, the poor, scourged, 
 driven, kicked, and cufi'ed wretches." 
 
 I had a talk also with a German who had lived in 
 Wilmington five years. He was an abolitionist. 
 
 " At Richmond," I said, " I was told that many of 
 the poorer citizens — those who did not own slaves — 
 were secret abolitionists. Is it so here ?" 
 
 The reply was very decided. 
 
 " Yes, sir. Look there," he said — it was Snnday — 
 
48 THE KOTING EDITOR 
 
 " look at that girl walking a long way behind hei 
 master and mistress, who're going" to church, just ex- 
 actly as if she was a dog." 
 
 " Do you think that the majority of the classes I 
 mentioned, in this city, are secret abolitionists ?" 
 
 '' Oh, YES," he said, with excessive emphasis. 
 
 A SLAVE PEN. 
 
 I visited one very peculiar institution in Wilming- 
 ton — a house where negroes, or rather slaves, of both 
 sexes are kept for sale. There w^ere dozens of the 
 poor wretches squatting or walking about the yard. 
 
 As I entered it, I saw a colored girl go up to a 
 young male chattel, put her arms, in the most affec- 
 tionate mannei', around his neck, stand unsteadily on 
 tiptoe, and salute his lips with the long lingering kiss 
 of a lover. I mention this incident for the benefit of 
 IS'orthern gentlemen, whose sweethearts, to use a 
 newspaper j^hrase, are '' respectfully requested to 
 please copy " this admirable fashion. That it is of 
 lowly origin is no reason for rejecting it. 
 
 The Articles on sale at this establishment were of 
 every shade of color, from the almost white to the 
 altogether black. Yet—" Christ died for all ?" 
 
 There was one man with sharp features, fine blue 
 eyes, and a most intelligent-looking face. He was 
 what I have heard called a saddle-leather-colored 
 negro. He asked me if I would buy him ? 
 
 Poor fellow ! I had n't quite change enough to 
 change his condition. 
 
 There was a black girl, with an infant nearly white, 
 having blue eyes and straight hair. I learned the 
 mother's history. She had lived in a family at Hich- 
 mond, Virginia. Slie tliere became acquainted with 
 
 / 
 
IN NOIITII CAROLINA. 49 
 
 a young American, to wlioin, in time, slie bore a 
 daughter. H^r master was so enraged, when lie dis- 
 covered her condition, that he swore he would sell 
 her South. The author of her misfortune offered to 
 buy her ; but tlie master of the woman, under whose 
 quivering heart the young man's child was beating, 
 with demoniacal sternness rejected the proffered re- 
 paration : and he sold both the mother and the un- 
 born babe to the dreaded Southern Traders. 
 
 Deiend the institution that caused this most infer- 
 nal outrage, ye " national " ministers of the Most Just 
 God — struggle priestfuUy, hand in hand, against 
 its philanthropic assailants, and, verily, you shall 
 have your reward. 
 
 Stir up the fires, Beelzebub ! 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 I LOVE Charleston ! I spent a fortniglit there — one 
 of the happiest periods of my life. Perhaps it was 
 the aspect of the city — its thoroughly English appear- 
 ance "and construction, its old-time customs, its 
 genial climate — for there were roses in full bloom in 
 its public gardens when there were snow storms at the 
 Korth ; perhaps it was the English architecture, the 
 merry peal of bells, the watchman chaunting the time 
 of night, the uniformed patrol — which I soon learned 
 to hate — all of them reminding me of my boyhood 
 days, that cast a spell around my spirit during my 
 sojourn there, and which now casts a spell over my 
 recollections of the city of Calhoun ; but, be this as it 
 may, in spite of my stern and inflexible anti-slavery 
 zeal, I would rather to-day be a sojourner in Charles- 
 ton than a resident of any other city on the Conti- 
 nent. 
 
 Did I say a spell ? ISTot of idleness, however. I 
 attended to my business. 
 
 Ilere is an extract from a letter that I wrote at 
 the time : 
 
 "The city jail is an old brick building, of the 
 Scotch Presbyterian style of architecture. 
 
 "Close beside it is another massive building, 
 
THE ROVING EDITOR. 51 
 
 resembling a feudal castle in its external I'onn — • 
 the infamous Bastile or tlie Spanish Inquisition in its 
 internal management — an edifice whicli is destined 
 to be levelled to the earth amid the savage yells cf 
 insurgent negroes and the shrieks of widowed ladies, 
 whose husbands shall have been justly massacred by 
 wholesale ; or else amid the cheers of the true chivalry 
 of the age, the assailants of slavery and the friends 
 of the bondmen, and the apj^lause of the fair daugh- 
 ters of the Southern States. God grant that the 
 beautiful women of the South may be the first to 
 demand the demolition of this execrable edifice ; 
 God grant that they may be spared the misery of 
 seeino^ their husbands and their children slaue^htered 
 by their slaves ; but God grant, over and above all, 
 that the Sugar House of Charleston, by some means, 
 or at any cost, may speedily be levelled to the earth 
 that it pollutes by its practices and presence. 
 
 " The first of man's natural rights is the right to 
 live : without liberty there is no life, but existence 
 only. If any man unjustly deprived me of my 
 liberty, and I had it in my powder to kill him, it 
 would, I conceive, be a very grave crime to permit 
 him to live and enslave me. 
 
 BULLY EROOKS AND COLORED CONTENTMENT. 
 
 " And such," I wrote — "let the howling Mr. Pres- 
 ton S. Brooks, and the Northern sycophants of the 
 slaveholders, say as they will — such are the senti- 
 ments of the majority of the slaves in the city of 
 Charleston.''^ 
 
 Mr. Brooks was a nobody at that time. But I had 
 just read, in the Charleston Mercury, a speech of his, 
 wherein he stated, with an audacity which is pccu- 
 
52 TlIK EOYING EDITOR 
 
 liar to tlie Southern politicians, that the slaves were 
 happy and eminently contented with their unfortu- 
 nate condition. The Mercury^ on the strength of this 
 speech, predicted a glorious future for him ! The 
 eulogist has since fallen in a duel, and the eulogized 
 is lying in an assassin's grave. Fit future for a liar, 
 a despot, and a coward ! But let us not linger here. 
 Let us spit upon his grave and pass on, leaving his 
 soul in the custody of the infernal gods ! 
 
 At Richmond and at "Wilmington, I continued, 
 I found the slaves discontented, but despondingly 
 resigned to their fate. At Charleston I found them 
 morose and savagely brooding over their Avi'ongs. 
 They know and they dread the slaveholder's power ; 
 they are afraid to assail it w^ithout first effecting a 
 combination among themselves, which the ordinances 
 of the city, that are sternly enforced, and the fear 
 of a traitor among them, prevent. But if the guards 
 who now keep nightly watch were to be otherwise 
 employed — if the roar of hostile cannon was to be 
 heard by the slaves, or a hostile fleet was seen sailing 
 up the bay of Charleston — then, as surely as God 
 lives, would the sewers of the city be instantly filled 
 with the blood of the slave masters. I have had 
 long and confidential conversations with great num- 
 bers of the slaves here, who trusted me because I 
 talked with them, and acted toward them as a 
 friend, and I speak advisedly when I say that they 
 are already ripe for a rebellion, and that South Caro- 
 lina dmes not (even if the ^orth was willing to per- 
 mit her) to secede from this Union of States. Her 
 only hope of safety from wholesale slaughter is the 
 Uniox. Laugh the secessionists to scorn, ye Union- 
 loving sons of the ISTorth, for the negroes are pre- 
 
 I 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 53 
 
 pared " to cement the Federal compact " once more 
 — and really it needs it — with " the blood of des- 
 pots," and their own then free blood, too, if the " re- 
 sistance-to-tjrants" doctrine in practice shall call for 
 the solemn and voluntary sacrifice. 
 
 The Sugar House of Charleston is a building 
 erected for the purpose of punishing and selling 
 slaves in. I visited it. It is simply a prison with a 
 treadmill, a work yard, ]3utrid privies, whipping 
 posts and a hrine harrel attached. There are, I 
 think, three corridors. Many of the cells are per- 
 fectly dark. They are all very small. 
 
 What, think you, is the mode of conducting this 
 peculiar institution ? 
 
 If a planter arrives in the city with a lot of slaves 
 for sale, he repairs to the Sugar House and places 
 them in custody, and there they are kept until dis- 
 posed of, as usual — " by auction for cash to the high- 
 est bidder." 
 
 K any slaveholder, from any or from no cause, 
 desires to punish his human property, but is too 
 sensitive, or what is ftxr more probable, too lazy to 
 inflict the chastisement himself — he takes it (the man, 
 woman or child), to the Sugar House, and simply 
 orders Jioio he desires it to be punished ; and, with- 
 out any trial — without any questions asked or ex- 
 planations given, the command is implicitly obeyed 
 by the officers of the institution. A small sum is 
 paid for the board of the incarcerated. 
 
 If any colored person is found out of doors after 
 ten o'clock at night, without a ticket of leave from 
 its owner, the unfortunate wanderer is taken to the 
 Sugar House and kept there till morning; when, if 
 the master pays one dollar fine, the slave is liberated; 
 
54 THE ROVING KDITOR 
 
 but, if he refuses to do so, the prisouer is tied hand 
 and foot and lashed before he or she is set at liberty. 
 For women are whipped as frequently as men. 
 
 And yet the city wdiich supports these official 
 Haynaus, regards itself as one of the burning lights of 
 our modern civilization ! Miserable race of woman- 
 wdiippers — worthy constituents of the assassin Brooks 
 — ^fit men to celebrate his memory and to revile, with 
 worse than fiendish glee, the sufferings of his j)ure- 
 hearted victim, Charles Sumner ! ''^■■ 
 
 STOKY OF A SLAVE. 
 
 The concluding portion of the narrative that I sub 
 join, related to me by a slave, whose answers I took 
 down in short hand as he uttered them, will serve to 
 show how the name of the Sugar House has become 
 a word of terror to the colored race in South Caro- 
 lina and the adjoining slave States. I first heard 
 of it and its horrors at Richmond, from the colored 
 storekeeper of whom I have spoken at considerable 
 length. Of course I alter the real names of the 
 difterent parties mentioned in the statement. I 
 omit, also, many of my questions : 
 
 '' My name is Pete Barclay. I was born in E'ew- 
 berg, South Carolina. I'm ^hout tirty years old 
 now." 
 
 " Why, don't you know your exact age?" 
 
 " No, sail," said the slave. " Let me see. I'll tell 
 
 * I never spoke to any poor Avhitcs of this State, in order to learn 
 their feelings towards slavery and slaveholders. Yet it may be inter- 
 esting to the friends of the greatest of Massachusetts' Senators to 
 know, as an indication of sentiment, that there is a native-born child 
 of South Carolina parents, who reside in the capital, named after 
 our torch-tongned orator, Charles Sumner. 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 55 
 
 you 'xactly liow old I'm now. I've bin two years 
 here — not quite two years till nex' montli — and 1 
 know iN'icliolas Smith — I seen him only de oder 
 day ; he says I'm 'xactly de same age as he is. 
 I'm 'xactly thirty-two years old. Dat's his age." 
 
 "Is he free?" 
 
 " Yes, sah, he's a freeman. lie was raised where 
 I growedr * 
 
 "Is he a white man ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sah, he's a white man, he's not a colored 
 man at all. He knows every tin' — more dan I do 
 — he kin read and write, and all dat sort o' thing, 
 you know. I 'd a sister and mother in Carolina, 
 'bout 130 miles on the cars, as I'm told. I was 
 raised by Mr. Kenog. He's bin dead for years ; 
 I wish I was wid him now. Dat was de first man 
 dat raised me." 
 
 " Did you ever know your father and mother ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I knowed dem like a book. Mother 
 died four years afore I came to Columbus — ^I've bin 
 here two years — four and two is six — isn't it, sah ?" 
 
 I assumed the responsibility of answering in the 
 affirmative. 
 
 "Well, she has been dead about dat time. It 
 may not be quite so long, though." 
 
 " Who's Kenog, sir?" 
 
 " He was a farmer in Kewberg," said the slave. 
 
 " Did your father belong to him ?" 
 
 " :N'o, sah." 
 
 " Was your father a slave ?" 
 
 " Yes, sail, and my moder too." 
 
 * Long after this sentence was spoken, I found a world of sad his- 
 torics in this accidental utterance. Raised — and ;]^rowcd ! 
 
56 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 *' "Was your mother ever sold ?" 
 
 " No, sah, my motlier neber was sold ; she was 
 raised dere and died dere." 
 
 " How many children had she ?" 
 
 " I can't say 'xactly," rei^lied the slave, " let me 
 count jist how many she had." 
 
 He commenced with his thumb to count the num- 
 ber of his brothers and sisters on his fingers. 
 
 " Maria," he said, " dat's my sister dat I got a let- 
 ter from home, the other day ; Alice — she's dead — 
 dat's two ; Lea — I never seen her — she's dead — 
 dat's three ; I've had three sisters. Wash, dat's 
 one ; Hannibal, dat's two ; Major and Jackson, 
 dat's — ^let me, me — aint it four, sah ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Den, I've dree sisters and four broders — dat's 
 
 —dat's a " 
 
 He could not finish the sentence. The intricate 
 problem was beyond his arithmetical ken. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, in reply to my questions, 
 "sometimes slaves has got two names, and some- 
 times only one. My fader belonged to a widow 
 woman, named Lucy Hoberts. I knowed him as 
 well as I know dat candle." 
 
 This conversation occurred in a house occupied 
 partly by colored people, during candle light. 
 
 " Dat's how I came to be called Roberts," he 
 said, " he took her name. After I left Roberts I be- 
 longed to Richardson. I Avas about six years old 
 when I went to Mr. Richardson. I was a present 
 from Roberts to him ; dat's how 1 came to belong to 
 him. I stayed wid him till 'bout two years since — 
 not quite two years ; it's not two years till May. 
 Den I was sold to dis ole man, my boss now." 
 
IN SOUTH CxVKOLINA. 57 
 
 It is unnecessary to say " dat clis ole man, my boss 
 now," was not present at this nocturnal meeting of 
 Soiitliern colored and IN^orthern mi-colored woolly- 
 heads. 
 
 "What sort of a boss is lie ?" I inquired. 
 The answer was brief enough, and as bitter as 
 brief : 
 
 " lie's de meanest ole scamp goin'." 
 '' Are the colored people of your acquaintance all 
 discontented with their present condition ?" 
 
 "Yes, sah," he replied, " all on 'em ; I knows lots 
 and lots on 'em since I came here, and I's a stranger 
 in the city : I's not bin here cpite two years yet^ — 
 not two years till nex' month, sah — and all dat 1 
 does know wants to l)e free very had^ I tell ye, and 
 may te will fight hefore long if they clonH get freedom 
 somehow. Dis country is de meanest country in 
 de world.' 
 
 " Did you ever live outside of South Carolina ?" 
 " IS'o, sah," he said, notliing abashed by his recent 
 decision, " I never has bin out on it, but I knows 
 dat nothin' could be worse. I's been knocked 
 about five or six years now very bad ; but I 
 won't stand it much longer; I'll run away the 
 very firs' chance I gets. Massa, is a colored man 
 safe in the State of JN'ew York ?" 
 
 I replied that I believed that it now would be im- 
 possible, without a desperate and bloody contest be- 
 tween the municipal authorities and the people of 
 New York, for a Southron to rethrust a slave as a 
 brand iiito the burning, after he had once trod the 
 soil of Manhattan Island. I thought that perhaps 
 he could have done so as late as a year ago, but tliat 
 lie could not do it since the recent anti-slavery re- 
 
 3* 
 
5^ THE KOVING EDITOK 
 
 vival. (Abolitionism, at that time, had penetrated 
 the theatres, and even the pnlpits were belching 
 forth anathemas against it.) 
 
 He spoke of one John Bouldon, an intimate friend 
 of his, who had been legally kidnapped from ISTew 
 York city after snccessfully effecting his escape from 
 slavery. 
 
 "Dey brought him back," he said, "bnt he looked 
 brave and game. Oh, he looked well, sah," he added, 
 with enthusiastic energy. ''Dey wouldn't let us 
 talk to him ; we only see him through de grating 
 of de jail. Dey took him away one morning — ^he 
 came wid de sheriff of I^ew York — and I heerd tell 
 of somebody havin' raised $1,500 or $15,000 to buy 
 him — yes, I believe it was $1,500 — ^but it wasn't a 
 high price, sah ; he was a first-rate tailor." 
 
 "Do you know anything," I asked, "about the 
 Suo-ar House here? A colored man at Kichmond 
 advised me to go and see it. I've been there, but 
 the ofiicer who showed me round seemed to think 
 that my absence would be as much for the good of 
 the house as my company. He showed me all the 
 cells, because he couldn't well help himself; but he 
 did n't give me any information." 
 
 (On entering the yard of this Inferno — the day was 
 excessively sultry — I was almost suffocated by the 
 first inhalation of its atmosphere. The odor arising 
 from the privies, which ivere in close ])roxhn'dy to 
 the treadmill^ rendered the atmosphere insufferably 
 corrupt. There were eight persons on the treadmill 
 at the time inhaling the poisonous air.) 
 
 "You could n't have axed a better person, sah," 
 said the slave, " dan me. I 's bin twice derc, 
 De first time dat I Avas dere I was put in by my 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 69 
 
 master for playin' at cards. He came up one night 
 and caught iis — a few boys and myself — playin' in a 
 room." 
 
 " ' I don't want my boys to do that,' he said, and 
 den he went down stairs. 
 
 " Three days passed, and I thought it war all over. 
 But it warn't. On de fourth day, he came into my 
 bedroom afore I got uj) and put a pair of handcufls 
 on me and tuk me to de Sugar House. I was kept 
 dare in a dark cell — de only light I had came through 
 five gimlet holes — for four days, and I was paddled 
 twice." 
 
 " Paddled !" I repeated, " what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh," he said, "dey whip us with a paddle." 
 
 "What's that?" I asked. 
 
 "A paddle," he rejoined, "is a piece of board 
 'bout three fingers wide and half an inch deep wid 
 holes in it. I got twenty de firs' day and twenty do 
 last. Dey put in a kind of drawer wid hominy in it, 
 nothing else, once a day, and dat was our vittals. 
 I couldn't taste any de firs' day at all." 
 
 " What was your second ofi'ence ?" I asked. 
 
 "l^othin', massa, nothin' at all. I got leave to go 
 to the races, and I met some friends dare, and when 
 I came back I was half an hour too late. He put me 
 to the Sugar House agin. I was kept dar two days 
 and got twenty-five lashes." 
 
 " How many at each time ?" 
 
 " Fifteen bof times, massa." 
 
 "Two fifteens make thirty, not twenty -five," I ven- 
 tured to suo:£i:est. 
 
 " Does it, massa ?" — he pondered for a few seconds 
 with a gravity becoming the iniportance of the sub- 
 ject — " so it does. Well, I got thirty. Den^ after 
 
60 THE ROVING EDITOK. 
 
 dey "paddle dem^ jou know, dey wash their hacks with 
 salt water. '''^ 
 
 I astonislied my colored friend by starting from tlie 
 chair in which I had been lounging. 
 
 "Great God!" I exclaimed, "you don't mean to 
 say that in earnest ?" 
 
 " Massa," he repeated, " it am as true as I'm sitting 
 here." 
 
 " Will you swear that ?" I asked. 
 
 " Massa," he repeated slowly and solemnly, " it am 
 God's truth ; I'll swear it wherever you like ; dere's 
 hundreds beside me who would do it if you axed 
 them. De colored people here know it too well, 
 sah." 
 
 Postscript. — Hon. Humphrey Marshall, of Kentucky, in his 
 defence of Matt Ward, thus describes another efficient means of 
 saving grace invented for the maintenance of the blessed " Mis- 
 sionary Institution:" 
 
 " The strap, gentlemen, you are probably aware, is an instru- 
 ment of refined modern torture, ordinarily used in whipping 
 slaves. By the old system, the cow-hide — a severe punishment 
 — cut and lacerated them so badly as to almost spoil their sale 
 when brought to the lower markets. But this strap, I am told, 
 is a vast improvement in the art of whipping negroes ; and, it 
 is said, that one of them may be punished by it within one inch 
 of his life, and yet he will come out with no visible injury, and 
 his skin will be as smooth and polished as a peeled onion!" 
 
 The paddle is a large, thin ferule of wood, in which many 
 small holes are bored ; when a blow is struck, these holes, from 
 the rush and partial exhaustion of air in them, act like diminu- 
 tive cups, and the continued application of the instrument has 
 been described to me to produce precisely such a result as that 
 attributed to the strap by Mr. Marshall. 
 
VI. 
 
 SALT WATEK PIILL^\J^THEOPY. 
 
 The last revelation of the slave was so revolting 
 that I hesitated to believe it, until it was confirmed 
 by a clond of colored witnesses, many of whom had 
 been subjected in their own persons to the horrible 
 and heathenisli punishment. It shocked me beyond 
 anything that I had ever heard. 
 
 This shows, I found, how l^orthern people will 
 persist in seeing Southern institutions and Southern 
 customs from a false and unfriendly point of view ! 
 Bless you ! to wash the lacerated backs of the slaves 
 with brine is not by any means an indication of a 
 cruel disposition ! 
 
 This is how I found it out : 
 
 I was talking with a Southron about slavery, and 
 told him, in reply to his statement that the negro 
 bondmen were the happiest of human beings, that J 
 had heard that sometimes after they were whipped 
 their backs were immediately washed with salt water. 
 
 " I know it," he said ; " what of it ?" 
 
 " I think it is infernal barbarity — that's all." 
 
 ""Why, no, sir," he said, "it's jphilanthroj^y to 
 do it." 
 
 I turned round. He was perfectly grave. Tie was 
 
 61 
 
62 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 not speaking ironically. I was amazed, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " Don't you know," he asked, " that in this warm 
 climate, if the master were to leave his slave's back 
 just as it is after being whipped, that mortification 
 would ensue and the nigger die ?" 
 
 Oh, philanthropy ! how lovely art thou even to the 
 tyrant when thy ways are the ways of — selfish inter- 
 est ! I was satisfied. 
 
 TUE a:xti-ginger girl. 
 
 One morning, in Avalking up Calhoun street, I saw 
 a pretty colored girl standing at a garden-gate, and 
 of course went over and had a talk wdth her on 
 " things in general and slavery in particular." She 
 was a finely formed, Saxon-faced girl, with a spark- 
 ling, roguish-looking eye. Her hair was black and 
 glossy, and all her features were Caucasian ; but her 
 complexion w^as yellow, and tliercfore she was a 
 slave. 
 
 " Did you ever try to escape ?" I asked her. 
 
 She answered, but I did not hear her distinctly. 
 
 " Oh, you did," I said, in reply to her supposed 
 remark. "In Yirginia, eh? Did you come from 
 that State ?" 
 
 "jSTo, sir," returned the yellow girl, with a merry 
 glance and a laugh, " I did not say dat ; I said I 
 never tried, 'kase dey would catch me agin, and 
 den Fd get ginger P 
 
 From the manner in which she uttered the dissyl- 
 lable ginger, I inferred that she did not relish that 
 article of commerce. 
 
 After a few further remarks, during the course of 
 which she hinted that her mistress migJd be induced 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 63 
 
 to sell lier, and that she would have no objection — in 
 point of fact, rather the reverse — to become my pro- 
 perty, I bade the pretty, lively female slave farewell. 
 She, like nearly all her class, was evidently the mis- 
 tress of a white man. Evangelizing institution ! 
 
 I was leaning on the outside of the fence of a gar- 
 den, a few miles from Charleston, in which an old 
 man of color was working. 
 
 " Then you've had — how many masters in all ?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " Five, massa, al'degeder," said the slave, touch- 
 ing his cap politely, as he had done a dozen times at 
 least during the preceding three or four minutes. 
 
 " Never mind touching your hat," I said. " How 
 many children have you had?" 
 
 " I's had eight by my firs' wife, and five by de 
 second, and five by dis ole woman." 
 
 lie j)ointed to a ncgress who had just entered the 
 garden. Her wool was grey, but she appeared to be 
 twenty years, at least, her husband's junior. I sa- 
 luted her. 
 
 " You ever been married more than once ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, massa," said the silver-grey woolly- 
 head. '' I's bin married once before." 
 
 " Had any children ?" 
 
 "Yes, massa," she said, "I's had five by dis ole 
 man, and seven by de last un." 
 
 "You are both Christians?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, massa," she said, "we goes to de church; 
 we's not members ob de church, kase we's colored 
 people, and dey won't let us be." 
 
Gi THE ROVINCi EDITOR 
 
 This statement does not hold everywhere. It may 
 be true, however, of Sonth Carolina. 
 
 " That's not a great misfortune," I remarked, as I 
 recalled to my recollection a long editorial article 
 tliat I had lately read in the North Carolina Bajotist 
 Becorder^ entitled, "The Fanaticism of the New 
 England Clergy;" which w^as written by a professed 
 minister of the gospel of love, for the purpose of 
 proving that Jesus Christ, the friend of oppressed 
 humanity, was a Southern Rights man ; and that God, 
 the Father of our race, " whose name is love," had 
 revealed it to be his will that the negro should be, 
 and should be kept as a bondman ; and consequently, 
 of course — this was the inference — that sugar houses, 
 treadmills, whips, paddles, brine-barrels, bloodhounds, 
 Millard Fillmores, and "sound national men" should 
 exist to keep them in that debased condition. 
 
 " Is it not massa ?" asked' the woman, laughing, 
 "well, I s'pose we kin be Christians widout bein' 
 members ob de church." 
 
 " If you have kept all the commandments as well 
 as you have kept the first," I rejoined, in a jocular 
 tone, " multiply, and so forth, you know, you must 
 be Christians of the A ]^o. 1 sect. Eight and five 
 are thirteen, thirteen and five are eighteen ; you've 
 had eighteen children, old man, have n't you?" 
 
 " Yes, massa," said the old slave, grinning. 
 
 " Seven and five are twelve ; that's the old wo- 
 man's share. You've done very well between you, 
 I declare !" 
 
 The colored Replenishers roared with laughter. 
 
IX SOUTH CAROLINA. 65 
 
 MAKEIAGE AND DIVORCE AMONG SLAVi;S. 
 
 "How long has your first husband been dead?" 
 I asked the woman. 
 
 "He isn't dead yet, massa," said the mother of a 
 dozen darkies, "he's livin' yet. I didn't like him, 
 and I neber did ; so I tuk up wid my ole man." 
 
 " And you like him, do you ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, massa," she said as a prelude to a peal 
 of chuckles. " I's a great deal younger dan he is, 
 but I wouldn't change agin." 
 
 "Rather flattering to you, old boy," I said, ad- 
 dressing the male article of traffic ; " do you return 
 the compliment?" 
 
 " Yes, massa," he said with a laugh, and a loving 
 look at her, "she's a nice ole gal. I's knowed her 
 since she was dat high" — he levelled his hand to 
 within two feet of the ground — " and I knows," he 
 added, " dat she's a good un." 
 
 Chuckles, expressive of gratification, followed from 
 the good un, which was succeeded by a history of 
 the ole man's life, but it was uttered in such ela- 
 borately broken English, that I could not understand 
 a word of it. 
 
 SURPRISING IGNORANCE OF THE SLAVE. 
 
 " You say you were owned by an Englishman," I 
 repeated, affecting an ignorance of Southern geo- 
 graphy, " and that you lived at St. Helena. Was 
 St. Helena an island?" 
 
 " Yes, massa." 
 
 " The island that ISTapoleon Bonaparte lived at ?" 
 
 " Napol'on Bonapard !" he repeated. 
 
66 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 " Did you never hear of Napoleon Bonaparte ?" 1 
 asked. 
 
 '^ 'No, massa," lie returned, " who was him ?" 
 
 '' It is the name of a gentleman, who did a thing 
 or two in Europe," I returned. " But do you know 
 what Europe is ?" 
 
 " No, massa," said the slave, " I never heerd on 
 himr 
 
 I explained that Europe was a State annexable to 
 the United States, and, therefore, destined to be one 
 of them in the good time coming, boys. 
 
 CONTENTIVIENT AND MORALITY. 
 
 " Were you married," I continued, " to your pre- 
 sent w^ife by a minister ?" 
 
 " No, massa, dey neber does de like of dat wid 
 colored people." 
 
 (He was mistaken in this particular ; for slaves are 
 very often married by the preachers.) 
 
 " Then you live together," I suggested, " until 
 you quarrel, and then you separate ?" 
 
 " Oh, no. not alius," said the woman ; " w^e some- 
 times quarrels in de daytime, and make all up at 
 night." 
 
 Thus is the system of slavery a practical defiance 
 of the Christian doctrine of marriage and divorce. 
 
 " Are you content with being in bondage ?" 
 
 " No, no, massa, indeed," said the old man, ^' but 
 we can't help ourselves. I neber 'xpects to be free 
 dis side de land." 
 
 1 turned to the good un : 
 
 ^'Tlie slave-masters," I said, "when they go North, 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 67 
 
 say that you are all contented, and do n't want to be 
 free — is that so ?" 
 
 " Oh, J — s, NO !" she exclaimed, with a fervency 
 of emphasis, which both amazed and amused me. 
 
 WHAT THE BOYS SAY. 
 
 I had four confidential conversations with colored 
 mulatto youths in different parts of the city. All of 
 them were very discontented with their condition, 
 and said that all the boys they knew were equally 
 dissatisfied. 
 
 I asked one boy — a free boy : 
 
 " Do you think that any boys, who are slaves, are 
 content ?" 
 
 "There maybe one or two," he answered, "but 
 they haven't got any sense." 
 
 THE WILLING EXILE. 
 
 I rode one day several miles with a free man of 
 color, and conversed with him all the way. 
 
 At the age of thirteen he was liberated by his 
 owner, a Quaker gentleman, who sold his estates, 
 and manumitted all his slaves before going to the 
 IS'orth. He had six children by his first wife, but, 
 as she was a slave, they were born into bondage 
 also. He said that he had done well in a pecuniary 
 way here, but that, befoi-e three years were over, he 
 and all his children would sail for Liberia. 
 
 "Ko, sir," he said in reply to a question, "I 
 wouldn't leave a child of mine in a country where 
 they may be sold into slavery, even if they are free, 
 if they cannot pay their taxes." 
 
 " You don't mean to sav " 
 
68 THE EOT mo EDITOR 
 
 '' Yes, sir," lie continued, interrupting me, " tliej 
 does that here." 
 
 Hold! enough! — 
 
 Thus abruptly terminates the last letter that I 
 wrote to mj JS'orthern anti-slavery friends during 
 my first trip South. 
 
 I have omitted the purely didactic passages, as 
 my object is to furnish facts, rather than to advocate 
 theories, or to philosophize. Among these portions, 
 however, I find two paragraphs which it may be 
 well to preserve. 
 
 PEO AND CON. 
 
 At "Wilmington, a philanthropic lady, a woman 
 evidently of pure character and kindly nature — told 
 me, mildly, that the ll^orthern Abolitionists had no 
 idea how numerous and how friendly the bonds were 
 that united the slave to his master. As she said so I 
 felt inclined to reply that perhaps Southern slave- 
 holders had no idea how many and how insurrection- 
 ary the reasons were that are daily tending to array 
 them one against the other. I did not say so, how- 
 ever, for the lady was a slaveholder, and I was in 
 her house. Such an assertion would have been 
 regarded as an insult. It isn't always etiquette to 
 speak the truth ! 
 
 And again : 
 
 Tlius, therefore, although I say that I wish to see 
 slavery abolished at any cost — even at the cost of a 
 social Black St. Bartholomew's night — I do not say 
 that all, or even the majority of the slaveholders, are 
 depraved or heartless men. Far from it. Among 
 them are the kindliest natures, the most hospitable, 
 generous and honorable souls. They have been con- 
 ceived in the sin and born in the iniquity, so to 
 
IN SOUTH CAEOLLNA. 69 
 
 speak ; on the slavery problem tliey never think 
 with a desire to ascertain the truth ; they regard 
 the wrong as an established right; they hear it 
 praised and defended from their youth uj) ; and look 
 on it, from habit, as the true social condition of the 
 negro. They would as soon think of inquiring into 
 the sentiments of their horses on tlieir position, as to 
 interrogate the slaves as to tlieir ideas of bondage. 
 Tliere are many good men in the slaveholding ranks, 
 w^ho support the iniquity by their influence and their 
 character, without suspecting that they are the pillars 
 of a gigantic crime. 
 
 Are they, then, excused % ]N^o ! Ignorance of the 
 laws of humanity excuseth no man. They are the 
 pillars of a huge Temple of Sin, and should perish 
 with it when it falls. 
 
 A gentleman who, as I had every reason to be- 
 lieve, is a St. Clair to his slaves, lately said to me 
 that his negroes could not be discontented, because 
 they had no reason of complaint, as he was as kind 
 to them as it is possible for a master to be. 
 
 " What right have you to be kind, as you call it, 
 to your slaves ?" 
 
 " Sir !" he ejaculated, in surprise. 
 " You do not see," I continued, " that you speak 
 of your kindness as of an exclusive possession which 
 you had the right to dispense or retain at your plea- 
 sure. You forget at the outset that the negro is a 
 man — ^}^our equal. Leave him alone — let him be free 
 — and he will be kind to you, I have no doubt vntli- 
 oxit making you his slave, and not boast of it either,' 
 I will warrant. This patronizing kindness is an in- 
 sult to a freeman. Would you not be very apt to call 
 nie out if I went about, and said, in a condcscendinof 
 
70 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 tone, that I had always been very kind to you? 
 Kindness is very well in its way — but it is not free- 
 dom. Such is the view I should take of it if I were 
 a slave." 
 
 " I don't forget — I deny that the negro is my 
 equal," said the Southerner, cooly ; and thus the con- 
 versation dropped. 
 
 I concluded my fourth letter from Charleston in 
 these words : 
 
 " I have spent six days now in conversing with 
 colored people here, and I have never yet met one 
 who professed to be contented with slavery — ^far less 
 to prefer it. Many, many have I met who are pant- 
 ing for liberty, and several slaves who are prepared 
 to risk the chance of failure in a servile insurrec- 
 tion." 
 
 Having done my work, I left Charleston. 
 
 SAVANNAH. 
 
 I spent three months at Savannah. My friends 
 have often asked me how it was, that, when I dared to 
 talk so freely with the slaves, I was never once dis- 
 covered or betrayed ? I reply, by remembering that 
 the Avisdom of the serpent is as necessary to a reformer 
 as the harmlessness of the dove. I did not think 
 it wrong to use stratagem to serve the slave. I 
 have the talent of silence, the talent of discreet 
 speech — and also — and I use it quite as often as the 
 others — the talent and virtue of indiscreetiiess. The 
 friend of the slave needs all three ! 
 
 I found that the slaves of Georgia were without 
 •hope — passively resigned. It w^as requisite, in the 
 first place, to arouse their hope. To effect that re- 
 sult, it was indispensably necessary to let them know 
 
IN GEORGIA. Tl 
 
 of the anti-slaveiy battle waging tlirougliout the 
 Union — of which, unfortunately they were totally 
 ignorant and likely to remain uninformed. 
 
 How I went to work to enlighten them, I do not 
 deem it prudent to say. It might close that avenue- 
 of power to the abolitionists. 
 
 Suffice it to say that I seldom spoke to the city 
 slaves. I never cared to run the risk of being be- 
 trayed, excepting when I was travelling on a jour- 
 ney. Hence, when I intended to reside in a city, I 
 never spoke confidentially to the slaves imtil I was 
 prejmred to dejpart. 
 
 I had only one conversation with a slave in Savan- 
 nah, of which I have preserved the record. 
 
 In walking along the beautiful road — one of the 
 most charmino^ in the Union — which leads from the 
 city to the Catholic cemetery, I met an aged negro 
 slave. It was on a Sunday. 
 
 " Good morning, uncle" 
 
 " Good mornin', mass'r." 
 
 " Who do you belong to ?" 
 
 He told me. 
 
 " Hired out ?" 
 
 " JSTo, mass'r, I works on de boss's plantation." 
 
 " What's your allowance ?" 
 
 " A peck of meal a week, mass'r." 
 
 " "What else ?" 
 
 " Xothin' mass'r, at all. We has a little piece 
 of ground dat we digs and plants. Wo raises 
 vegetables, and we has a few chickens. We 
 sells them (vegetables and eggs), on Sundays and 
 buys a piece of bacon wid de money when we kin, 
 mass'r." 
 
 " That's })retty hard allowance," I said. 
 
72 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, it is dat ; but we can't help dat." 
 * * * -^ * * * * 
 
 " Did yoii ever know a slave who would rather be 
 in bondao;e than be free ?" 
 
 " I neber did^ mass'r." 
 
 Savannah is a city of 20,000 souls. 
 
 How many policemen do you suppose it requires 
 to keejD the peace there ? 
 
 Eighty-one mounted guards. 
 
 There are larger cities in the E'orthern States with 
 but one constable, and he engaged occasionally only 
 in performing his official duties ! 
 
 Who pays the expenses of this guard — the salaries 
 of the men, and for the purchase money, the feed 
 and accoutrements of the horses ? 
 
 Chiefly^ the non-slaveholding po^pulation. 
 
 Let the Democratic supporters of the " constitu- 
 tional" crime of American slavery reflect on this un- 
 palatable fact ! % 
 
 In all slaveholding cities — excepting the great sea- 
 ports, and St. Louis, Louisville and Baltimore, which 
 are practically free — the lawyers form the richest 
 and most influential class. 
 
 Let the people think of this fact ; let them remem- 
 ber too, thai lawyers are the leeches of the body 
 politic. 
 
Vll. 
 
 THE COMMEKCIAL CONVENTION. 
 
 EvEETBODY, ^Noi'th ancl South, lias heard of the 
 great Commercial Conventions, which regularly as- 
 semble, now here, now there, but always in the 
 Slave States, to discuss the interests, and "resolve " on 
 the prosperity — immediate, un23aralleled, and imcon- 
 ditional — of slaveholding trade, territory, education, 
 Legree-lash-literature, and " direct commerce with 
 Europe !" These assemblies are generally regarded, 
 in the Slave States, as the safety-valves of the South- 
 ern Juggernaut-institution, without which, for want of 
 ventilation, that political organization would sj)eedily 
 explode, and scatter death and destruction to the ends 
 of the earth. All the politicians of the third order, 
 and the second class (occasionally, perhaps, of the 
 uj^per circles, also) assiduously attend them, to publicly 
 renew the unmanly assurances of their unwavering 
 loyalty to the overshadowing disgrace of the Ameri- 
 can nation, and the blighting and devastating cra'se 
 of their own unhappy section. These exhibitions 
 would be more amusing than a fiirce, if they were 
 not, to thoughtful men, more tragic than a tragedy. 
 For what is more sorrowful than to see men of talent 
 the willing and enthusiastic eulogists of so very foul 
 a crime as the system of American slavery ? 
 
 4 78 
 
74 THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 Tlie ridicnlons aspect of these r.sseniblies lias been 
 admirably portrayed, again and again, by tlie promi- 
 nent journalists of the Is^orth and South, without re- 
 spect of political party. The other aspect has never 
 yet been fully noticed, even by the 'New York Tri- 
 hune, whose sarcastic and merciless presentations of 
 these Southern absurdities were keenly felt and re- 
 sented by their perpetrators — ^nay, even, honored by 
 a five hours' debate in the Commercial Convention 
 which assembled in Charleston in 1854. 
 
 I beg pardon of the chivalry ! I had closed up 
 the record of this, my first trip, wdthout deeming 
 them and their Convention as worthy even of a pass- 
 ing notice. It would have been very unfair to have 
 treated them so cavalierly. It w^ould not have been 
 rendering like for like. They did not serve me in 
 that way. Let me render them, therefore, the cour- 
 tesy of a chapter. 
 
 This was how it happened, that ani'i-Trihune de- 
 bate : 
 
 I determined to remain in Charleston during the 
 session of the Convention, to report its proceedings 
 for the metropolitan press. Previous to my depar- 
 ture from New York city, I had been a member of 
 the Tribune's editorial staiF. So I entered the Com- 
 mercial Convention, and announced myself as the re- 
 porter of that paper. 
 
 I was very courteously treated. 1 had the dis- 
 tinguished honor of a self-introduction to the illustri- 
 ous Parson Brownlow, who, seemingly having taken 
 a fancy to me, patronized me in his original and ex- 
 traordinaiy way. lie went with me to the principal 
 dry goods stores, and showed me the glories thereof, 
 invariably introducing me to strangers in this way : 
 
IN SOUTH CAKOLINA. 75 
 
 " You've lieerd of Horace Greelej ?" 
 
 They had, in every case, heard of that celebrated 
 editor. They sometimes, even — probably to 2-)rove 
 the exactness of their knowledge — volunteered to ex- 
 press their conception of his character. One or two, 
 indeed, to use their own expression, " made no 
 bones " of uttering what they thought of him, with- 
 out Avaiting for a special invitation to that effect. 
 These estimates of Mr. Greeley were seldom ofiensive 
 to his friends on the score of excessive or extrava- 
 gant eulogy. The answer of one Palmetto counter- 
 jumper will abundantly prove this assertion : 
 
 " You've heerd of Horace Greeley ?" asked the 
 grinning parson, as the usual prelude to his excellent 
 joke. 
 
 " Yes : damned rascal — what about it ?" said the 
 young, laconic, counter-jumping judge. 
 
 " This is him .^" quoth the parson. 
 
 Of course, on a minute inspection, the startling 
 effect thus suddenly produced as suddenly vanished. 
 That spotless linen, hair elaborately dressed, mous- 
 tache carefully trimmed and scientifically curled : 
 those pantaloons, and coat, and vest, well brushed 
 and white not one, but each of the grave&t black ; of 
 the finest and most costly material too ; and fitting al- 
 beit so exactly to the figure, that they seemed to have 
 been plastic moulds, into which, in a melted physical 
 condition, I had been cautiously poured : that superb 
 Genin hat, those daintiest of French boots, glittering 
 diamond ring, and no less brilliant breastpin : Did 
 you ever see Horace Greeley, Mr. Zachariah Smith, 
 and if you have, do you wonder that I was not 
 immediately arrested ? 
 
 The parson, in convention, delivered an irregular 
 
76 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 speech, or out-of-piilpit sermon, whose moral and 
 practical application, as he stated it, was this celes- 
 tial injunction, " Never put your arm inside of a jug 
 handleP The advice was more especially addressed 
 to the yonng lady spectators. By a bold license of 
 speech, which men of genius are privileged to employ, 
 the jug-handle of this more than celestial moral indi- 
 cated the arm of every young man who would not, 
 at his clerical command, sign the temperance, or 
 rather the total abstinence pledge. 
 
 The parson introduced me to a Southern editor, 
 whose style of thought and conversation greatly 
 amused me. He was from Chattanooga, Tennessee. 
 Full to overflowing, was the Tennessee journalist, of 
 loyalty to slavery (which, down South, they often 
 euphonize as " the South !"), and loyalty to vene- 
 rable rye ; and of the most friendly feelings, too, 
 toward Parson Brownlow, Virginia short-cut, and the 
 Honorable Mr. Jones, his representative in Congress. 
 He praised Mr. Jones first and foremost : Jones was 
 bound to be President, he said, and had come down 
 here (but I mustn't tell nary one about it) to put 
 himself right with the South Carolina fire-eaters, who 
 were offended at a Union speech that he had recently 
 delivered in ]^ew York city ! Couldn't I help him 
 out of his fix by giving him a good notice — ^i*ight 
 kind, you know, of pitchin' into him, eh ? That was 
 
 a d d good fellow ? "Wouldn't I take a chaw ? 
 
 No ? Was it possible I never chawed ? "Well, sup- 
 pose we liquored then ? Oh, curse it now — that was 
 piling on the agony altogether too loud — neither 
 chaw nor drink % That came of being in the Tribune 
 ofiice. Damn such isms, lie said. 
 
 But when he found that I was a willing and de- 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 77 
 
 liglited listener to his stories of Tennessee, he seemed 
 to forgive mj nnfamiliar isms. lie told me that he 
 had often seen Parson BroAvnlow, in the pulpit, before 
 opening his Bible to read the text of his sermon, first 
 take ont a couple of loaded pistols and lay one of 
 them on each side of the holy volume. This precau- 
 tion, he said, he was obliged to take, in order to de- 
 fend himself, if suddenly assailed, by ruffians whom 
 he often denounced. The anecdotes, admiringly told, 
 that he related of the parson, proved him to be, of all 
 living Americans — not even Stephen A. Douglas ex- 
 cepted — the most indecent and unscrupulous of 
 sj)eech.^" 
 
 The editor knew Greeley too. Greeley, upon the 
 hull, was a clever ioilow personally ; but a d d ras- 
 cal, no two v/ays about it, politically. Worst man in 
 the country : he would be d d if he wasn't. Per- 
 haps, I suggested, mightn't that follow even if he 
 was f He didn't see the point ! lie had bin to I^Tew 
 York. Had called on Greeley, and had been told 
 by him that he might examine his exchanges. His 
 impressions, therefore, were favorable to Greeley. 
 
 As the Tennessee editor, with eyes half shut from 
 the effects of whisky — ^liis feet, higher than his 
 head, resting on a table — was garrulously muttering 
 his opinions of the J^ew York journalist, I thought 
 of a plan by which, if it succeeded, I might some- 
 what enliven the proceedings of the Convention, and 
 hear the Southern lions roar. 
 
 " Kow," I said, " since Greeley was so ' clever,' it 
 
 * Let it be remembered th.at Parson Brownlow is still the pastor, iu 
 good standin<5, of an orthodox Southern Church, although he en- 
 dorsed and eulogixedthe conduct of a mob, who publicly burned a ne- 
 gro slave to death, without form of law. 
 
Y8 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 is no more than fair that jou should try to recipro- 
 cate ?" 
 
 " That's a fact," mumbled the editor, " I'll be happy 
 to serve you in any way, Mr. R. How kin I?" 
 
 "Introduce a resolution into the Convention to- 
 morrow morning, constituting the representatives of 
 the ISTew York press honorary delegates." 
 
 " I'll do it," he said : and he kept his word. 
 
 The motion was put — and carried ! The truth is, 
 that it was not rightly understood. But, before the 
 Convention re-assembled next morning, it was evi- 
 dent that there had been brains in birth-j)ang labor, 
 in view of the extraordinary vote. The Standard 
 and " a planter " remonstrated publicly. Tliis gen- 
 tleman, they said, may be both a Chesterfield and a 
 Howard (it was not the blooded family they meant — 
 only the English philanthropist), but in the Commer- 
 cial Convention, they argued, we can recognize him 
 merely and solely as the representative of the N^ew 
 York Tribune ! As such 
 
 It is unnecessary to me to say what treatment I 
 merited " as such." 
 
 When the Convention was called to order, a gentle- 
 man, in a shrewd and courteous speech, moved that 
 the resolution be rescinded witJiout discussion. He 
 hoped there w^ould be no debate. It was unprece- 
 dented to admit reporters as honorary delegates into 
 any convention. The dignity invested them with the 
 right of voting and participatiug in debate. Gentle- 
 men had not thought of these facts in voting for 
 the resolution which conferred such unusual honors 
 on the representatives of the ]^ew York press. There 
 were other reasons : which he would not name here. 
 It was unprecedented. That was enough ! 
 
IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 1\) 
 
 He sat down. 
 
 Shrill and loud, and in ringing tones came the sen- 
 tence through the theatre : 
 
 '^ And if it is not enough, Mr. President, / have 
 other reasons to give !" 
 
 I turned round, and saw, in the Georgia delega- 
 tion, a tall, lank, bony, red-headed man, with his thin 
 wiry finger stretched out d la Randolph — his body 
 more than half bent over the gallery. 
 
 "Unpre-re-cedented !" he shrilly shouted, quiver- 
 ing w^ith indignation, " unpre-re-cedented, why ! sir, 
 it's unjDaralleled, outrageous and insuiFerable. What, 
 sir ! have we come here to tolerate in our midst, and 
 not only tolerate, no sir, not only that, but honor, sir, 
 HONOE, sir, an emissary of that infamous abolition 
 sheet, the ]N"ew York Tribune .^" 
 
 I chuckled! The poker was stirring; the lions 
 and lesser beasts were beginning to roar ! 
 
 For five mortal hours (called mortal, I suppose, 
 because they are very short-lived) the politicians 
 belched forth their denunciations of the Tribune. 
 ITever before, probably — never to my knowlege — 
 w^as so splendid a tribute paid to any journal. 
 
 It was impossible to stem the current of their 
 fanatical rage. It was in vain that one old man, 
 grey-haired and feeble, appealed to them — for God's 
 sake — to vote at once, and not debate; not to furnish 
 capital to their enemies — not to advertise the organ 
 of abolitionism. 
 
 With a rush, and a roar, and a sweeping force, on 
 came the filthy flood of speech again, all the fouler, 
 and stronger and wilder, from that attempted check. 
 Tlie chance was too good to be lost. Probably many 
 of them liad never seen an abolitionist before, and 
 
80 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 never again would have sncli an opportunity of un- 
 burdening their minds in such a presence. I was 
 astonished at the contempt with which they spoke 
 of the press. I did not know then, what I soon learned, 
 that the press South is a greater slave than the negro, 
 and is treated by the planters and politicians who 
 rule it, exactly as it deserves to be — ^like a serf. 
 
 The motion was rescinded. 
 
 I rose up at once, took my delegate ribbon from 
 its button-hole, threw it on the ground, and walked 
 out of the reporters' seat. Tliis act was noticed by 
 great numbers, as it was done in front of the au- 
 dience, and was an exhibition of independence which, 
 I discovered, made me many friends. I thought it 
 due to the press to reciprocate the contempt of the 
 politicians, and when gentlemen who introduced 
 themselves after this episode, were informed of this 
 reason of my conduct, many of them endorsed it in 
 the usual fashion : 
 
 ^'' Let^s liquor. ^"^ 
 
 I went to the upper gallery (it was in the theatre), 
 and entered a private box as spectator. I took no 
 further notes. There were three young ladies in the 
 box. One of them, I noticed (after I had been there 
 some time), was playing with the stem of her parasol. 
 I looked at it, and saw that it was a dagger, as well 
 as a handle ; like a sword cane, it was hollow, and 
 secretly contained a glittering deadly weapon ! I 
 had never before either seen, or heard, or read of 
 such a fashion : nor since. From before what a 
 beneficent condition of society did that dagger-para- 
 sol-stem lift up the thick curtain ! It was an irre- 
 sistible argument, I thought, for the extension of 
 slavery, and for "respecting" the "rights"— the 
 
IN SOUTH CAKOLINA. 81 
 
 State rights, not Iniman rights — of our " Southern 
 brethren !" Oh ! eloquent parasol-stem ! potent 
 preacher ! graphic painter and historian ! your les- 
 son is ever present with me, whenever, as a citizen, 
 I am called on to act in public affairs ; and long will 
 be remembered after the faintest shadow of the elo- 
 quent orations of the Commercial Convention are ut- 
 terly obliterated from my recollection. 
 
 Faint, indeed, are my present recollections. I re- 
 member only endless resolutions denouncing the 
 N^orth, and creating a new South ; and a discourse 
 by a Rev. Mr. Marshall, of Kentucky or Mississippi, 
 I think, on the Importance of Planting Potatoes for 
 Posterity ; which, in a defence of men of insight and 
 foresight, he declared to be the mission of the vision- 
 ary as contrasted with the lower and grosser work of 
 the practical intellect — that only hoes its row for the 
 present generation. It was very funny — for the 
 preacher was in earnest. Dean Swift, in jest, could 
 not have composed a keener satire on the Southern 
 Commercial Conventions. 
 
 4* 
 
MY SECOl^D TUIP 
 
 PRELIMINAKY WORDS ON INSURRECTION. 
 
 CMy opinion of the slaveliolders, and my feelings 
 toward them, were greatly modified during my re- 
 sidence in Savannah. I saw so much that was 
 noble, generous and admirable in their characters ; 
 I saw so many demoralizing j)ro-slavery influences 
 — various, attractive, resistless — brought to bear on 
 their intellects from their cradle to their tomb, 
 that from hating I began to pity them. It is not 
 at all surprising that the people of the South are so 
 indifferent to the rights of the African race. For, 
 as far as the negro is concerned, the press, the pul- 
 pit, the bench, the bar, and the stump, consjDire with 
 a unity of purpose and pertinacity of zeal, which 
 is no less lamentable than extraordinary, to eradi- 
 cate every sentiment of justice and brotherhood from 
 their hearts. They sincerely believe Wrong to be 
 Right, and act on that unhappy conviction. They 
 know not what they doHl' Preachers tell them that 
 slavery is a God-planted institution ; lawyers, that it 
 
 S3 
 
PEELTMINARY WORDS ON INSUEKECTION. 83 
 
 is tlie apple of tlie eye of the Federal Constitution ; 
 jurists, tliat it is the key and corner-stone of a rational 
 and conservative Freedom ; politicians, that it is the 
 prolific source of our national greatness and the surest 
 guaranty for the continuance of a stable prosperity 
 — while the press, by its false and perverted record 
 of passing events, represents every enemy of pro- 
 slavery domination as a foe to the South — as seeking 
 to rob and to subdue the people of the slaveholding 
 States — and thus teaches that fidelity to their " pe- 
 culiar," " patriarchal," " domestic " iniquity is the 
 sum and substance — the alpha and omega of a man's 
 duty to his country. 
 
 Thus taught — interest prompting also — they have 
 gone on, year after year, supporting the extravagant 
 demands of their politicians ; until now, no longer 
 content with their first demand — toleration, or their 
 second claim — equality with freedom, they boldly 
 insist on absolute and undisputed supremacy in 
 every State. 
 
 They are sincere. Far less criminal are they there- 
 fore, in my opinion, than such moral outcasts as 
 
 G S , who once publicly uttered the revolting 
 
 declaration, that, if every slave in America could be 
 instantly liberated by a single prayer, he — for one — 
 would not offer it up ! The Southern church has 
 been a very ponderous millstone around the neck of 
 the slave — the clergy having vied, apparently, with 
 each other to see which of the conflicting denomina- 
 tions, South, could keep the negro the longest and 
 the deepest under water. 
 
 But sincerity is not enough, in the eye of the 
 moral law. It is necessary, also, to be pjgut; to 
 abstain from violating the law. IIow then, shall we 
 
84 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 compel the slaveholder to understand that his treat- 
 ment 01 the negro is wrong — to show him that it is 
 demanded, by every principle of justice and hu- 
 manity, that he shall liberate his slaves ? ISTot by 
 proj)agating the popular theology — for the South has 
 churches enough, far too many preachers, and might 
 even sj)are a Tract Society ! The more the worse — 
 for the slave. Prea<jhing even undefiled Christianity 
 would have no universal immediate effect, and even if 
 it would have, and could have, there is this objection 
 to it — it cannot be carried into operation ! The slave- 
 holders will not listen to it — it is illegal — dangerous to 
 attemj^t — in one word " impracticable " in the South- 
 ern States. Besides, if possible, it would be absurd. 
 You might as w^ell preach to buffaloes ! Our duty to 
 the slave, I think, demands that we shall speedily ap- 
 peal to the taskmaster's fear. Let us teach, urge, 
 and encourage insurrections, and the South will soon 
 abandon her haughty attitude of aggression. Then it 
 will be time enough to advocate schemes of compen- 
 sation ; then it will . be time enough to ascertain 
 whether or not the Constitution gives us the power 
 to abolish slavery everywhere. Until then, I confess, 
 I regard all such labors as unnecessary, or, at best, 
 but an awkward mode of fighting a powerful and 
 defiant foe. If we want to make good terms with 
 the Slave Power, let us bring it on its knees first ! 
 And there is but one way of ~^doing that : by attack- 
 ing it where it is weakest — at home. The slave 
 quarter is the Achilles' heel of the South. Wound 
 it there and it dies ! One insurrection in Virginia, 
 in 1832, did more for the emancipation cause, than 
 all the teachings of the Revolutionary Fathers. 
 What if, in such rising, a few lives are lost? What 
 
IN VIKGmiA. 85 
 
 are a few liiindred lives even, as compared witli the 
 liberties of four millions of men 'i I have no ill- 
 feeling to slaveholders as a class. Yet I could hear 
 of the untimely death of ten thousand of them 
 without a sigh, or an expression, or a feeling of re- 
 gret, if it resulted in the freedom of a single State. 
 
 I dismiss the argument that we have no right to 
 encourage insurrections, the dreadful punishment of 
 which, if unsuccessful, w^e are unwilling or do not 
 propose to share, by replying that I am not unpre- 
 pared to hazard the danger of such a catastrophe, 
 and the chances of speedy death or enduring victory 
 with the revolutionary slaves. To still another objec- 
 tion urged against my plan, I answer that, in an in- 
 surrection, if all the slaves in the United States — men, 
 women and helpless babes — were to fiill on the field 
 or become the victims of Saxon vengeance, after the 
 event, if one man only survived to relate how his 
 race heroically fell, and to enjoy the freedom they 
 had won, the liberty of that solitary negro, in my 
 opinion, would be cheaply purchased by the uni- 
 versal slaughter of his people and their oppressors. 
 
 I START AGAIN. 
 
 Let us travel again ! 
 
 After a detention of some months in Kew York 
 city, prostrated on a sick bed, I once more departed 
 for the Southern States. 
 
 About the middle of September, 185-i, I travelled 
 by railroad from Richmond to Petersburg. I made 
 no notes of the intervening country at the time, but 
 will insert here what I wrote on a subsequent pedes- 
 trian journey over the same route. 
 
86 
 
 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 CHESTEEFIELD COUNTY FACTS. 
 
 I^early • the entire road runs throiigli woods. 
 Land, from $6 to §8 an acre. 
 
 This county, a few years ago, had a population 
 of 17,483, an increase of thirty-four only during 
 the ten preceding years. It had 8,400 whites, 
 8,616 slaves, and 407 free persons of color. It had 
 neither colleges, academies, nor private schools. 
 Five hundred and sixty-seven pupils only attended 
 the public schools. Three thousand and ninety-five 
 white persons, over five and under twenty years 
 of age, and one thousand and eight white adults, 
 could neither read, write nor cipher ! Add the 
 stupidity of the black population to this amazing 
 mass of ignorance, and then you may judge of the 
 beneficent influence of slave institutions on the mind 
 and morals of a rising generation, and on the social 
 life of the Southern States. JSTotwithstanding, and 
 carefully conceahng this stupendous influence of evil, 
 Mr. De Bow, the compiler of the United States' Census, 
 in his ofiicial report, has the audacity to say that 
 '•the social reunions of the Southern States, in a 
 great measure, compensate for their want of the com- 
 mon schools of the North !" I wonder if he never 
 heard of social reunions at the North? Was he 
 never at a husking, a soiree, a lecture, a sewing, or a 
 spiritual circle, a bee, a surprise party, a " social " — 
 or at any other of the innumerable "reunions" 
 which are everywhere so uncommonly common in 
 the Free States ? 
 
 Chesterfield county, by the latest census, had five 
 hundred and sixty-four farms; 87,180 acres im- 
 proved, and 108,933 unimproved acres :^ the total 
 
IN VIKGmiA. 87 
 
 value of wliicli, with improvements and implements, 
 was estimated at §1,562,286. The farms supported 
 2,M1 horses, 5,655 neat cattle, 6,020 sheep, and 
 24-,814 swine. They produced 95,875 bushels of 
 wheat, 116,965 of oats and rye, 33,938 of Indian 
 corn, 22,113 of L*ish and sweet j)otatoes, 3,646 of 
 peas and beans, 73,044 pounds of butter and cheese, 
 2,892 tons of hay, 96 pounds of hops, and 608 
 bushels of clover and other grass seeds. These 
 figures, subdivided by the number of farms, will 
 give the agricultural reader a better conception 
 than I could give, or any description of their style 
 of farming could give, of the manner in which slaves 
 and slaveholders mutually assist each other in reject- 
 ing and wasting the wealth which Nature lies pas- 
 sively willing to bestow. 
 
 TUE POOR WHITES AND SLAVERY. 
 
 I met and conversed with many of the poorer 
 class of whites in my journey. All of them were 
 conscious of the injurious influence that slavery was 
 exerting on their social condition. If damning the 
 negroes would have abolished slavery, it would have 
 disappeared a long time ago, before the indignant 
 breath of the poor white trash. But — it won't. 
 
 A KNOW NOTHING. 
 
 I slept at night at the house of Mr. S n, a 
 
 planter and Baptist preacher. He has a farm of six 
 hundred acres overlooking the Appomattox Biver. He 
 has some thirty slaves, old and young. 
 
 I rode down with one of his slaves to Wattron 
 Mill — a mile or two. 
 
 lie had lived seven years with his master ; did n't 
 
88 THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 know liow old he himself was ; did n't know how 
 many acres there were in his master's farm ; did n't 
 know what land was worth, or how mules, horses and 
 other farm stock sold ; could not read nor write ; had 
 never been at City Point, which was only three miles 
 distant, according to his own account, although, in 
 point of fact, it was nearer six ; did not know how 
 many slaves his owner had, or the name of the county 
 we were in ! 
 
 One item of information, however, not generally 
 known by slaves, nor always by whites, he did pos- 
 sess : he did know who his father was ! So he was a 
 wise boy after all — or the proverb is rather too liberal 
 in its scope. 
 
 FARMING UTENSILS. 
 
 Mr. S. walked down his farm with me in the morn- 
 ing. I noticed a hoe, which was heavier, at least, 
 than half a dozen ^NTorthern ones, and asked why he 
 made them so clumsy. 
 
 He said they were obliged to make everything 
 heavy that negroes handled. If you gave a slave a 
 Northern hoe or cradle in the morning, he would be 
 sure to break it before night, and probably in less 
 than two hours. You couldn't make them careful. 
 Besides, he said, they preferred heavy implements ; 
 you could not get them to use an axe that was less 
 than six pounds weight. They said that it tired them 
 more to use a light axe or hoe. 
 
 I remembered, somewhere, to have heard of a slave 
 who objected to the use of a light hoe, '"kase" he 
 grumbled, " you has to put out your strength every 
 time you puts it down, and in a 'Ginny hoe it 
 goes into the ground, jest so, by its own \veight." 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 89 
 
 Mr. S. said, lie believed that tins was the real ob- 
 jection which the negro had to the Northern hoe. 
 
 I noticed the great size of his fields — one was over 
 fifty acres. He said they called that a small field 
 here. 
 
 GUANO AND NIGGERS. 
 
 He had used guano, but did not like it. It was 
 too great a stimulant, unless you put enough on to 
 raise both a wheat and a clover crop ; but the far- 
 mers here could not afibrd to do it at the present rate 
 of guano, and the uncertainty of the wheat crop. 
 
 He thought niggers should be the happiest beings 
 in the world. He believed his slaves made more 
 money than he did. All he made was a living. They 
 made that, or he made it for them ; and then he 
 allowed them that wanted, to keep a pig, to fish after 
 their work was over, and hunt. They sold their fish 
 and game, and poultry and eggs. They had no care 
 of the morrow ; all their thinking he did for them. 
 
 He admitted that Virginia would have been better 
 off if never a negro had come there. 
 
 Nearly all the slaveholders admit that fact. How 
 to get rid of it — that is the mountain they all see, 
 without industry or genius — alas 1 also, without even 
 the desire to remove it. 
 
 But it must be removed, or it will fall — " and great 
 will be the fall of it !" 
 
 THE SLAVEOCRACY AND THE POOR. 
 
 Sept. 23. — I slept at the house of a petty farmer, a 
 few miles from Petersburg. We talked about slavery. 
 He has no slaves. He is a Virginian by birth. He owns 
 about two hundred acres of land, which he cultivates 
 
90 THE ROVING EDITOK. 
 
 with his family's assistance. In this State, or in 
 this section of it, two hundred acres are hardly 
 accounted a farm. Five thousand and six thousand 
 acre farms are very common. The farmer, his w^ife, 
 his daughter and son-in-law agreed in saying, that 
 the poor people of Yirginia are "looked down upon" 
 by the slaveholding class as if they belonged to 
 an inferior race. The old man said, also, that the 
 majority of the non-slaveholders here are secret 
 abolitionists. 
 
 I walked as far as "Weldon, [N'ortli Carolina, from 
 Petersburg, and there I took the cars for Wilming- 
 ton. 
 
 On the road I had a talk with a Yirginia slave, 
 which I reserve for another chapter. 
 
II. 
 
 TALK WITH A VIRGINIA SLAVE. 
 
 September 25. — Tliirty-tliree miles south of Peters- 
 burg. Li walking near the railroad, I met a man 
 of color. 
 
 " What time do you think it is ?" I asked. 
 
 " The sun is up 'bout half an hour," he said, po- 
 litely touching his hat. 
 
 " At what hour does the sun rise just now?" 
 
 " Dunno, mass'r." 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 " Forty-live year old, mass'r." 
 
 " Are you married ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, I is." 
 
 " Have you got any children?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, I's got ^veJ^ 
 
 " Did you ever try to run away ?" 
 
 " 'No, mass'r, I neber did." 
 
 " Would n't you like to go to the ISTorth ?" I asked, 
 closely watching the expression of his eye. He hesi- 
 tated. Ilvuew, from experience, why. I therefore 
 added : 
 
 "I come from the JSTorth." 
 
 " Docs you, mass'r ?" said the slave, as he eyed 
 me semi-suspiciously. 
 
 " Yes," I replied, "would n't you like to go there?" 
 
 01 
 
92 
 
 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 CONTENTMENT WITH SLAVERY. 
 
 "Yes, mass'r," he answered promptly, "I would 
 like bery mucli to go dar, but I neber 'spects to be 
 dar." 
 
 " Have you been a slave all your life ?" 
 
 "Yes, mass'r." 
 
 " Do you know of any slaves round about here, 
 who are contented with beino^ in bondaofe ?" 
 
 "No, mass'r," he answered with emphasis, "not 
 one of dem. How could dey, mass'r? Dere's no 
 man wouldn't sooner work for hisself dan for a boss, 
 dat kicks and knocks us 'bout all day, and neber 
 'lows us anyding for oursel's." 
 
 "Do you work for your boss, or are you hired out?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " I works for de boss." 
 
 " What kind of time do you have with him ?" 
 
 " Bery hard mass'r, bery hard. He works us all 
 day, and neber 'lows us anyding for oursel's at all 
 from Christmas to Christmas." 
 
 " What ! do n't he give you a present at Christ- 
 mas?" 
 
 "No, mass'r, not a cent. Some bosses do 'low 
 someding at Christmas ; but not my boss. He 
 doesn't even gib us 'bacca to chaw." 
 
 He was carrying a bag in which his day's provi- 
 sions and his tools were. He took out four apples, 
 and offered them to me. 
 
 " Will you gib me a piece of 'bacca for dem, 
 mass'r ?" 
 
 Dozens of times, in Virginia, the Carolinas, and 
 Georgia, have the slaves, working in the fields, come 
 up to the fence, and obsequiously begged from me a 
 
IN vmciNiA. 93 
 
 piece of tobacco. There is no speedier way of get- 
 ting into their confidence than by asking them when 
 you meet them — " If they want a chaw f " and offer- 
 ing them a plug to take a bite off. 
 
 As I didn't nse tobacco, I could not give him a 
 chew. 
 
 " You think, then," I resumed, " that there is no 
 slave who would not rather be a freeman V 
 
 " I'm sartain on it, mass'r." 
 
 " Well," said I, " I never met but one. lie said 
 he would rather be a slave than a freeman ; but he, 
 I guess, was a liar." 
 
 "Yes, mass'r," returned the slave, emphatically, 
 " he war a big liar, and yon ought to hab slapped 
 him on the mouth for say in' so. What slave-man 
 wouldn't rather work for hisself dan for a boss, 
 mass'r ?" 
 
 TREATMENT OF FEMALE SLAVES. 
 
 " Does your wife work all day as hard as you do ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," he replied, " and all my childer, 
 too. De boss takes dem when dcy is not so 
 high " — he levelled his hand wdthin four feet of the 
 earth's surface — " and keeps dem at work till dcy 
 die." 
 
 "Are the wives of slaves respected as married 
 women ?" 
 
 "Ko, mass'r, dey don't make no diifrence 
 wedder de colored women is married or not. AYhite 
 folks jest do what dcy have a mind to Avid dem." 
 
 Ills tone was bitter as he spoke these words. 
 Tliere was an ominous light in his eye — the precur- 
 sor, probably (I thought), of a terrible conflagration 
 
94 THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 whicli is destined yet to burn up tlie oppressor and 
 his works. 
 
 ^'Do white people — I mean the bosses — ever act 
 immorally to colored women on the plantation ?" 
 
 "Yes, mass'r, hery ofen^ indeedP 
 
 " I should think, then," I said, " that colored peo- 
 ple who are married, and are parents, would be the 
 most discontented with slavery ?" 
 
 "I dunno, mass'r," said the slave, with a heavy 
 heart-born sigh, "I knows Ps tired on it. I's seen 
 my daughter — treated so dat " 
 
 He hesitated, looked savagely gloomy, muttered 
 something to himself, and added : 
 
 "Well, mass'r, Ps tiked on it. Mass'r, is it bery 
 cold at the North ?" 
 
 This question was asked by almost every slave 
 with whom I conversed in Virginia and North 
 Carolina. To each of them I made the same reply. 
 In the winter, I said, it is a great deal colder than 
 it is here ; but not half so cold as the white people 
 try to make you believe. Besides, peo2)le wear more 
 clothes there than you do here, and do not feel the 
 cold more than you do in Virginia. In Canada, in 
 winter, it is very cold ; a great deal colder than in 
 the free States. In the free States a man may be 
 taken back into bondage, if his boss discovers him : 
 
 AN UNBELIEVING NEGKO. 
 
 " No, oh, no, massa ; dey can't do dat," said the 
 slave, emphatically. 
 
 "Yes, they can," I rejoined, "but they are getting 
 rather afraid to do it now." 
 
 " No^ massa, dey carCt do it," returned the slave in 
 
IX VIRGIXIA. 95 
 
 a still more emphatic tone, and with that peculiar 
 smile which uneducated people involuntarily assume 
 when instructing others on subjects with which they 
 suppose themselves to be thoroughly familiar, and 
 their companion misinformed. 
 
 I did not try to disabuse him of his error, for I 
 knew that, perhaps before he escaped, the people of 
 the l!^orth might refuse, with one accord, to act the 
 degrading role of bloodhounds any longer. Indeed 
 how could I have undeceived him? How could I 
 have begun to convince an uncorrupted mind of the 
 existence, or even the jyossibility of such a creature 
 as a doughface? 
 
 "In Canada," I resumed, "if a colored man once 
 gets there, he is safe for life. Canada belongs to the 
 British, and they never deliver up a fugitive." 
 
 " Yes, massa," said the slave, " I belieb dat. A 
 gi'eat many white folks has told me dat, and I belieb 
 it." 
 
 " Although it is very cold in Canada," I continued, 
 " I never found a negro there — and I saw great num- 
 bers of them — who would return, if he could, to his 
 old home and condition in the South." 
 
 TREATMENT OF FKEE NEGEOES. 
 
 " I bliev dat," said the slave, " I know if I could 
 get away, I would n't come back. Mass'r," he 
 added, " I's heerd dat in England, a colored man is 
 treated jest as well as dey do white folks. Is dat 
 true, mass'r?" 
 
 " I believe so," I replied. 
 
 " Is colored people treated as well as white folks at 
 de North?" 
 
96 THE KOYING EDITOE 
 
 "Why, no," I was forced to reply, "not quite. 
 There is a little prejudice everywhere, a great deal 
 in some places, against. them. But still, at the E'orth, 
 a colored j)erson need never be insulted by a white 
 man, as he is here, unless he be a coward, or a non- 
 resistant Christian. He may strike back. It would 
 not do to strike back here, would it ?" 
 
 " Oh Lor', no ! mass'r," said the slave, looking as 
 if frightened by the mere idea of such a thing ; 
 "dey would shoot us down jest as soon as if we was 
 cats." 
 
 " Well," I resumed, " a colored man at the ^North 
 may strike back, and not be shot down." 
 
 I then related an incident, of wdiich I was an eye 
 witness. The last time that I travelled from Albany 
 to Buffalo, a few months ago, there was a colored 
 man in the cars with us.* A white bully, " exqui- 
 sitely" dressed, with gold chain, and brooch, and 
 diamond pin — in the height of the blackleg fashion — 
 entered it at one station, and said to the African, in a 
 loud domineering tone : 
 
 " Get out, you d d nigger, and go to the South 
 
 where you belong to." 
 
 Tlie colored man arose, approached him, and 
 applied every abusive epithet he could think of, 
 interspersed with oaths, to his cowardly " Circassian " 
 opponent. And I must admit, in justice to the 
 negro's memory and knowledge, that he did remem- 
 
 * In the South, I may state here, " the servants," as the slaves are 
 frequently styled, and the free persons of color, are put in the first 
 half of the foremost car by themselves, unless they are females tra- 
 velling with their mistress, when they sit by her side. The other 
 half of the negro car is appropriated for smokers, and is always 
 liberally patronized. 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 97 
 
 ber an extraordinaiy number of uncomplinieiitaiy 
 phrases, and showed a genealogical fund of informa- 
 tion which was surprising to every one present, and 
 seemed perfectly to stagger the dandy. He told 
 him, for example, that he knew his family ; that his 
 mother was a member of the canine race ; and several 
 other equally rare and entertaining facts of his per- 
 sonal history. All snobs are cowards ; so the negro 
 remained unanswered. 
 
 " Lor', mass'r," said the slave, after I had told him 
 this incident, " it would n't do to do dat here ; dey 
 would kill us right away." 
 
 CONCEKNING LINEN. 
 
 " How many suits," I asked, " are you allowed a 
 year?" 
 
 "Two, mass'r." 
 
 " Of course, you have two shirts ?" 
 
 " No, mass'r ; only one at a time." 
 
 " How do you get it washed ?" 
 
 "I washes it at night, and sleeps naked till it's 
 dry." 
 
 (The slaveholders, doubtless, hold to the "Western 
 boy's philosophy^ of living, as illustrated in his 
 answer to the gentleman who, seeing him naked, 
 asked him where his shirt was. " Washing." " Have 
 you only one ?" " Only one !" said the boy ; " do you 
 expect a feller to have a thousand shirts?") 
 
 We had some further talk about the country, and 
 then went each our own way. 
 
 He told me that he would risk the chance of flying 
 at once, if he Icnew how to go. 
 
III. 
 
 IS SLAVERY A CUKSE ? VOICE OF OLD VIRGINIA. 
 
 Modern Yirginia denies tliat slavery is a curse. 
 It is not very long ago since she adopted this 
 opinion. 
 
 "When at Richmond I purchased a little volume of 
 " Speeches on the Policy of Yirginia in Relation to 
 her Colored Population." It is a very rare book 
 now; it has long been out of print; and it is not 
 likely to be speedily republished. It consists of a 
 number of pamphlet speeches, bound together ; most 
 of them, as the title-page tells us, published by request. 
 It is a genuine Yirginia volume, as the names of the 
 authors, printers, publishers, and the amazingly 
 clumsy appearance of it, prove. These speeches 
 were delivered in the House of Delegates of Yirginia, 
 in 1832, by the leading politicians of the State, 
 shortly after the celebrated insurrection, or massacre 
 (as the slaveholders style it) of Southampton — a 
 period of intense excitement, when abolition was the 
 order of the day, even in the stony-hearted Old 
 Dominion. 
 
 Is slavery a curse? Listen to the answer of 
 Thomas Marshall, of Fauquier, then, as yet, one of 
 the distinguished politicians of Yirginia : 
 
THE ROVING EDITOK. 99 
 
 THOMAS MARSHALL'S OPINION. 
 
 " Slavery is ruinous to tlie whites ; it retards » 
 improvement ; roots out our industrious population ; 
 banishes the yeomanry of the country ; deprives the 
 spinner, the weaver, the smith, the shoemaker, the 
 carpenter of employment and support. The evil 
 admits of no remedy. It is increasing, and will con- 
 tinue to increase, imtil the whole country will be 
 inundated by one black w^ave, covering its whole 
 extent, with a few white faces, here and there, float- 
 ing on its surface. The master has no capital but 
 what is invested in human flesh ; the father, instead 
 of being richer for his sons, is at a loss how to pro- 
 vide for them. Tliere is no diversity of occupations, 
 no incentive to enterprise. Labor of every species 
 is disreputable, because performed mostly by slaves. 
 Our towns are stationary, our villages almost every- 
 where declining ; and the general aspect of the coun- 
 try marks the curse of a wasteful, idle, reckless 
 population, who have no interest in the soil, and 
 care not how much it is impoverished. Public im- 
 provements are neglected, and the entire continent 
 does not present a region for which nature has done 
 so much and art so little. If cultivated by free 
 labor, the soil of Virginia is capable of sustaining 
 a dense population, among wdiom labor would be 
 honorable, and where the busy hum of men would 
 tell that all were happy, and all were free." 
 
 Tlie second speech was delivered by John A. 
 Chandler, of ISTorfolk county : 
 
 '^ The proposition,. Mr. Speaker," said he, " is not 
 
100 TOE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 whether the State shall take the slaves for public 
 uses, but this : Whether the Legislature has the right 
 to compel the owners of slaves^ under ajpenalty^ within 
 a reasonahle time^ to remove the future increase out 
 of the country." 
 
 Ilis speech is devoted to the discussion of this 
 proposition, and in it he takes the most ultra posi- 
 tions. The Yirginia slaveholder out-Garrisons Garri- 
 son. He even introduces the golden rule as an argu- 
 ment ! In the opening paragraph, he says : 
 
 " It will be recollected, sir, that when the memorial 
 from Charles City, was presented by the gentleman 
 from Hanover, and when its reference was opj)osed, 
 I took occasion to observe that I believed the people 
 of Norfolk county would rejoice, could they even in 
 the vista of time, see some scheme for the gradual 
 removal of this curse from our land. I would have 
 voted, sir, for its rejection, because I was desirous to 
 see a report from the committee declaring the slave 
 population an evil, and recommending to the people 
 of this commonwealth the adoption of some plan for 
 its riddance." 
 
 The words italicized are so marked by the orator. 
 
 The third speech, delivered by Henry Berry, of 
 Jefferson, opens in these words : 
 
 " Mr. Speaker : Coming from a county in which 
 there are 4,000 slaves, being myself a slaveholder — 
 and I may say further, that the largest interest in 
 property that I have, lies about one hundred miles 
 east of the Blue Bidge, and consists of land and 
 slaves. Under these circumstances, I hope I shall be 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 101 
 
 excused for saying a few words on this important and 
 deeply interesting subject. 
 
 " That shivery is a grinding curse upon this State, 
 I had supposed would have been admitted by all, 
 and til at the only question for debate here would 
 have been the possibility of removing the evil. But, 
 sir, in this I have been disappointed. I have been 
 astonished to find that there are advocates here for 
 slavery with all its effects. /&>, this only proves how 
 far — hoio veryfai' — loe may he carried hy pecuniary 
 interest ; it proves what has been said by an immor- 
 tal bard : 
 
 ♦That man is unco' weak, 
 And little to be trusted ; 
 If self the wavering balance shake, 
 'Tis rarely right adjusted.' 
 
 Sir, I believe that no cancer on the physical 
 body was ever more certain, steady, and fatal in its 
 progress, than is this cancer on the political body of 
 the State of Yirginia. It is eating into her very 
 vitals." 
 
 DANGEE AHEAD. 
 
 And again : 
 
 " Like a mighty avalanche, the evil is rolling to- 
 wards us, accumulating weight and impetus at every 
 turn. And, sir, if we do nothing to avert its j^^o- 
 gress, it will tdtimately overiohehn and destroy us 
 forever.'''^ 
 
 And again : 
 
 " Sir, although I have no fears for any general re- 
 sults from the efforts of this class of our population 
 now^ still, sir, the time will come when there will be 
 imminent general danger. Pass as severe laws as 
 you will to keep these unfortunate creatures in igno- 
 
102 THE EOYING EDITOR 
 
 ranee, it is in vain, nnless you can extinguish that 
 spark of intellect which God has given them. Let 
 any man who advocates slavery examine the system 
 of laws that we have adopted (from stern necessity, 
 it may be said) toward these creatures, and he may 
 shed a tear upon that ; and would to God, sir, the 
 memory of it might thus be blotted out forever." 
 
 A DAMNING CONFESSION. 
 
 " Sir, we have^ as far as joossible, closed every 
 avenue hy which light might enter their minds : we 
 have only to go one stei) further — to extinguish the 
 cctj)acity to see — and our worh %Dould he completed. 
 They would then he reduced to the level of the leasts 
 of the fields a/ad we should he safe / and I am not cer- 
 tain that we would not do it^ if we could find out the 
 necessary process, and that under plea of necessity. 
 But, sir, this is impossible ; and can man be in the 
 midst of freedom and not know what freedom is ? 
 Can he feel that he has the power to assert his 
 liberty, and will he not do it ? Yes, sir, with the 
 certainty of the current of time will he do it, when- 
 ever he has the power. Sir, to prove that that time 
 will come, I need offer no other argument than that 
 of arithmetic, the conclusions from which are clear 
 demonstrations on this subject. The data are all be- 
 fore us, and every man can work out the process for 
 himself. Sir, a death-struggle must come hetween the 
 two classes^ in which one or the other %oill he extin- 
 guished forever. Who can contemplate such a 
 catastrophe as even possible, and be indifferent and 
 inactive ?" 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 103 
 
 " K slavery can be eradicated," said Charles 
 James Faulkner, " in God's name let lis get rid 
 of it." 
 
 Again : 
 
 " An era of commercial intercourse is thus fondly 
 anticipated, in the fancy of these gentlemen, between 
 the east and the west [of the State]. New ties and 
 new attachments are now to connect us more closely 
 in the bonds of an intimate and paternal union. 
 Human flesh is to be the staple of that trade, human 
 blood the cement of that connection. And in return 
 for the rich products of our valleys, are we to re- 
 ceive the nicely measured and graduated limbs of 
 our species ? 
 
 ''Sir, a sagacious politician in this State, on the 
 evening of the debate upon the presentation and 
 reference of the Hanover petition, remarked to me, 
 ' Why do you gentlemen from the west suffer your- 
 selves to be fanned into such a tempest of passion ? 
 The time will come, and that before long, when there 
 will be no diversity of interest or feeling among us 
 on this point — when we shall all equally represent a 
 slaveholding interest.' 
 
 AN ELOQUENT PROTEST AGAINST SLAVERY EXTENSION. 
 
 " Sir, it is to avert any such possible consequence 
 to my country, that I, one of the humblest, but not 
 the least determined of the western delegation, have 
 raised my voice for emancipation. Sir, tax our 
 lands, vilify our country, carry the sword of extermi- 
 nation through our now defenceless villages, but 
 spare us, I implore you, spare us the curse of slavery. 
 
104 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 that bitterest droj) from the chalice of the destroying 
 angeh 
 
 " Sir, the people of the west, I undertake to say, 
 feel a deep, a lively, a generous sympathy for their 
 eastern brethren. They know that the evils w*hich 
 now afflict them are not attributable to any fault of 
 theirs ; that slavery was introduced against their 
 will ; that we are indebted for it to the commercial 
 cupidity of that heartless empire, which has never 
 failed to sacrifice every principle of right and justice, 
 every feeling of honor and humanity, to the aggran- 
 dizement oi her commerce and manufactures. Sir, 
 we have lands, w^e have houses, we have j)roperty, 
 and we are willing to pledge them all, to any extent, 
 to aid you in removing this evil. Yet we will not 
 that you shall extend to us the same evils under 
 which you labor. We will not that you shall make 
 our fair domain the receptacle of your mass of po- 
 litical filth and corruption. ISTo, sir, before we can 
 submit to such terms, violent convulsions must agi- 
 tate this State." 
 
 INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY ON FREE WHITE LABOR. 
 
 " Slavery," he continued, " it is admitted, is an evil 
 which presses heavily against the best interests of the 
 State. It banishes free white labor ; it exterminates 
 the mechanic, the artisan, the manufacturer ; it de- 
 prives them of occupation ; it deprives them of 
 bread ; it converts the energy of a community into 
 indolence — its power into imbecility — its efficacy 
 into weakness. Sir, being thus injurious, have we 
 not a right to demand its extermination ? Shall so- 
 ciety suffer that the slaveholder may gather his crojy 
 of flesh f What is his mere pecuniary claim com- 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 105 
 
 pared with tlie great interests of the common weal ? 
 Must the country languish, droop, die, that the slave- 
 holder may flourish ? Shall all interests be subser- 
 vient to one ? all rights subordinate to those of the 
 slaveholder ? Has not the mechanic — have not the 
 middle classes their rights — rights incomjpatible with 
 the existence of slctvery f" 
 
 Lest the reader should imagine that I am quoting 
 from the files of the Liberator — and in order that he 
 may again peruse these extracts, and remember that 
 they are culled from the sj)eeches of Virginia slave- 
 holders — I will reserve the remaining extracts for an- 
 other chapter, and conclude by quoting from a letter 
 of my own, which accompanied the little volume 
 above alluded to, from the city of Richmond to a 
 friend in New York. 
 
 TREATMENT OF FREE NEGROES IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 A free person of color told me to-day (Sept. 20th) 
 that it is an offence in Richmond, punishable with 
 imprisonment and stripes on the bare back, for a 
 negro, whether free or bond, male or female, to take 
 the inside of the sidewalk in passing a white man ! 
 Negroes are required "to give the wall," and, if 
 necessary, to get off the sidewalk into the street. 
 Rowdies take great pleasure, whenever they see a 
 well-dressed colored person with his wife approach- 
 ing, to walk as near the edge of the pavement as pos- 
 sible, in order to compel them to go into the street, 
 or to incur the extreme and barbarous penalty of the 
 hiw. Gentlemen of course would not do so ; but in 
 Richmond, as elsewliere, the majority of the male 
 sex are neither gentlemen nor men. 
 
 In walking in the Southern cities, I have very often 
 5* 
 
106 THE KOVING EDITOE. 
 
 been annoyed at seeing an old man or a woman, as 1 
 approached tliem, getting off the sidewalk altogether. 
 Another custom of the colored people down South 
 has frequently irritated my democratic nerves. Ex- 
 cepting in the business streets of the far Southern 
 cities — or in such a place as Kew Orleans, where 
 there is no time to spare, and too much of the old 
 French gentility to tolerate so despicable a practice- 
 whenever a slave meets a Saxon — "ivin, be jabers, 
 if he's a Gilt" — he touches his hat reverentially. 
 In Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina, and even in 
 some parts of Virginia and North Carolina, if you 
 enter into a conversation with a colored man, and 
 keep looking at him as you speak, he touches 
 his cap every time that he answers your inter- 
 rogatories, unless you expressly command him to 
 desist. Perhaps this custom is the consequence of a 
 legal enactment, also ; but it is certainly the result 
 of the imperious lex non scri^ta of the Southern 
 States. 
 
IV. 
 
 SLAVERY AND FREEDOM COMPARED. 
 
 You feel sure that you were not reading from the 
 Liberator's files ? 
 
 If you do 60, let us quote, once more, from the 
 speech of Charles James Faulkner, of Virginia : 
 
 " Sir, I am gratified to perceive that no gentleman 
 has yet risen in this hall the avowed advocate of 
 slavery. The day has gone by when such a voice 
 could be listened to with patience, or even with for- 
 bearance. I even regret, sir, that we should find those 
 amongst us who enter the lists of discussion as its 
 apologists^ except alone upon the ground of uncon- 
 trollable necessity. And yet who could have listened 
 to the very eloquent remarks of the gentleman from 
 Brunswick without being forced to conclude that he, 
 at least, considered slavery, however not to be de- 
 fended upon principle, yet as being divested of much 
 of its enormity as you aj^proached it in practice? 
 
 " Sir, if there be one who concurs with that gen- 
 tleman in tlie harmless character of this institution, 
 let me request him to compare the condition of the 
 slaveholding portion of this commonwealth — barren, 
 desolate and seared, as it were, by the avenging liand 
 of lieaven — with tlie descriptions which we have of 
 
 107 
 
108 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 this same country from those who first broke its vir- 
 gin soil ? 
 
 " To what is this change ascribable ? 
 
 ''Alone to the withering and Hasting effects of 
 slavery. 
 
 " If this does not satisfy him, let me request him to 
 extend his travels to the Northern States of this 
 Union, and beg him to contrast the happiness and 
 contentment which prevails throughout that coun- 
 try — the busy and cheerful sound of industry — the 
 rapid and swelling growth of the population — their 
 means and institutions of education — their skill and 
 proficiency in the useful arts — their enterprise and 
 public spirit — the monuments of their commercial 
 and manufacturing industry ; and, above all, their 
 devoted attachment to the government from which 
 they derive their jDrotection, with the division, dis- 
 content, indolence and poverty of the Southern 
 country. 
 
 " To what, sir, is all this ascribable ? 
 
 " To that vice in the organisation of society^ hy 
 which one half of its inhabitants are arrayed^ in in- 
 terest and feeling^ from the other half— to that unfor- 
 tunate state of society in which freemen regard labor 
 as disgraceful^ and slaves shrinhfrom it as a lurden 
 tyrannically imposed upon them — to that condition 
 of things in which half a million of your population 
 can feel no sympathy with the society in the pros- 
 perity of which they are forbidden to participate, and 
 no attachment to a government at whose hands they 
 receive nothing but injustice. 
 
 " If this should not be suflicient, and the curious 
 and incredulous inquirer should suggest that the con- 
 trast which has been adverted to, and which is so 
 
m VIRGINIA. 109 
 
 manifest, miglit be traced to a difference of climate, 
 or otlier causes distinct from slavery itself, permit 
 me to refer him to the two States of Kentucky and 
 Ohio. 'No difference of soil, no diversity of climate, 
 no diversity in the original settlement of those two 
 States can account for the remarkable disproportion 
 in their natural advancement. Separated by a river 
 alone, they seem to have been purposely and provi- 
 dentially designed to exhibit in their future histories, 
 the difference which naturally results from a country 
 free, and a country afHicted with the curse of sla- 
 very. The same may be said of the two States of 
 Missouri and Illinois." 
 
 Surely this is satisfactory testimony ? 
 
 Tliomas J. Randolph spoke next, and in the same 
 strain as the preceding speakers. 
 
 Is slavery a curse f 
 
 Marshall, Barry, Randolph, Faulkner, and Chandler 
 answer in the affirmative ; and thus replies Mr. James 
 McDowell, junior, the delegate from Rockbridge : 
 
 SLAVERY A LEPKOSY. 
 
 "Sir, if our ancestors had exerted the firmness, 
 which, under greater obligations we ourselves are 
 called on to exert, Virginia would not, at this day, 
 have been mourning over the legacy of weakness, 
 and of sorrow that has been left her ; she would not 
 have been thrust down — down — in a still lowering 
 relation to the subordinate post which she occupies 
 in the Confederacy, whose career she has led; she 
 loould not he withering under the leprosy which is 
 ixiercing her to her hearth 
 
 Again : 
 
11)} THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 "If I am to jndge iroin the tone of our debate, 
 from the concessions on all hands expressed, there is 
 not a man in this body, not one, perhaps, that is 
 even represented here, who would not have thanked 
 the generations that have gone before us, if, acting 
 as public men, they had brought this bondage to a 
 close^ — who would not have thanked them, if, acting 
 as private men, on private motives, they had relin- 
 quished the property which their mistaken kindness 
 has devolved upon us ? Proud as are the names, for 
 intellect and patriotism, which enrich the volumes 
 of our history, and reverentially as we turn to them 
 at this period of waning reputation, that name, that 
 man, above all parallel, would have been the chief 
 who could have blotted out this curse from his coun- 
 try ; those above all others would have received the 
 homage of an eternal gratitude who, casting away 
 every suggestion of petty interest, had broken the 
 yoke which, in an evil hour, had been imposed, and 
 had transplanted, as a free man, to another continent, 
 the outcast and the wretched being who burdens ours 
 with his presence, and who defiles it with his crimes." 
 
 DANGEROUS PROPERTY. 
 
 In another part of his speech he says : 
 " Slavery and danger are inseparable.'^^ 
 Such, indeed, appears to have been the unanimous 
 opinion of the numerous delegates who spoke on this 
 occasion, as well as of those who were silent. Says 
 Mr. McDowell : 
 
 " In this investigation there is no difficulty — 
 nothing has been left to speculation or inquiry ; for 
 however widely gentlemen have differed upon the 
 power and the justice of touching this property, they 
 
IN VIRGINIA. Ill 
 
 have yet united in a common testimony to its clmrac- 
 ter. It has been frankly and unequivocally declared, 
 from the very commencement of this debate, by the 
 most decided enemies of abolition themselves, as well 
 as by others, that this property is an evil — that it is 
 dangerous property. Yes, sir, so dangerous has it 
 been represented to be, even by those who desire to 
 retain it, that we have been reproached for speaking 
 of it otherwise than in fireside whispers — reproached 
 for entertaining debate upon it in this hall ; and the 
 discussion of it with open doors, and to the general 
 ear, has been charged upon us as a climax of rash- 
 ness and folly which threatens issues of calamity to 
 the country." 
 
 Before concluding, he reiterates the assertion : '' ]Sfo 
 one disguises^^ he says, '^ihe danger of this property 
 — that it is inevitalle, and that it is increasing^ 
 
 ("Tlie slaveholder in the Carolina forests," truly 
 said the New Yorh Times^ " trembles ,at his fireside 
 every time that he hears the report of a solitary rifle 
 in the woods.") 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL DOMESTIC INSTITUTION. 
 
 Mr M'Dowell proceeds to unfold the exceeding 
 beauty of slavery as a domestic institution : 
 
 "It is quaintly remarked by Lord Bacon, that 
 ' liberty is a spark which flieth into the face of him 
 who attempteth to trample it under foot.' And, sir, 
 of all conceivable or possible situations, that which 
 the slave now occupies in the domestic services of our 
 families is precisely the one which clothes this irre- 
 pressible principle of his nature with the fearfullest 
 power — precisely the one which may give that prin- 
 
112 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 ciple its most fatal energy and direction. Who that 
 looks upon ]iis family, with the slave in its bosom, 
 ministering to its wants, but knows and feels that 
 this is true ? "VYho but sees and knows how much 
 the safety of that family depends upon forbearance, 
 how little can be provided for defence ? Sir, you 
 may exhaust yourself upon schemes of domestic de- 
 fence, and when you have examined every project 
 which the mind can suggest, you will at last have 
 only a deeper consciousness that nothing can be done. 
 JSTo, sir, nothing for this purpose can be done. Tlie 
 curse which, in combination with others, has been 
 denounced against man as a just punishment for his 
 sins — tlie curse of having an enemy in his household^ 
 is uj)on tcs. We have an enemy there, to whom our 
 dwelling 'is at all times accessible, our persons at all 
 times, our lives at all times, and that by manifold 
 weapons, both visible and concealed. 
 
 "But, sir, I wdll not expatiate further on this view 
 of the subject. Suffice it to say, that the defenceless 
 situation of the master, and the sense of injured right 
 in the slave, are the best possible preparatives for 
 conflict — a conflict, too, which may be considered 
 more certainly at hand whenever and wherever the 
 numerical ascendency of the slave shall inspire him 
 with confidence in his force." 
 
 SLAVERY A NATIONAL EVIL. 
 
 Mr. McDowell regards slavery as a national as 
 well as a State and domestic calamity. With this, 
 passage from his sj)eech, I Avill close the little volume 
 of Truths by Taskmasters : 
 
 " The existence of slavery creates a political inte- 
 rest in the Union, which is of all others the most 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 113 
 
 positive ; an interest wliicli, in relation to tiiose who 
 do not possess it, is adversary and exclusive ; one 
 Avhicli marks tlie manners of our country by a corres- 
 ponding distinction, and is sowing broadcast amongst 
 us, both in our official and private intercourse, the 
 seeds of unkindness and suspicion. On this interest 
 geographical parties have been formed ; on its mainte- 
 nance or restriction the bitterest struggles have been 
 waged in Congress ; and, as it contains an ingredient 
 of political power in our Federal Constitution, it will 
 always be the subject of struggle ; always defended 
 by the most vigilant care, and assailed by the most 
 subtile counter action. Slaveholding and non- 
 slaveholding must necessarily constitute the charac- 
 teristic feature of our country — must necessarily form 
 the broad and indivisible interest upon which parties 
 will combine, and w411 and does comprehend, in the 
 jealousies wdiich now surround it, the smothered and 
 powerful, but, I hope, not the irresistible causes of 
 future dismemberment. To all of its other evils, 
 then, slavery superadds the still further one of being 
 a cause of national dissension — of being a fixed 
 and repulsive element between the different members 
 of our Republic — itself impelling with strong ten- 
 dency, and aggravating all smaller tendencies to 
 political distrust, alienation and hostility." 
 
 Let no man accuse me of unfriendliness to the 
 slaveholders. See how willing I have been to put 
 their honorable and patriotic sentiments on record ! 
 
V. 
 
 NORTH CAEOLINA. 
 
 Weldon, Korth Carolina, is a hamlet, or town, or 
 " city " — I do n't know what they call it — consisting 
 of a railroad depot, a hotel, a printing-office, one or 
 two stores, and several houses. Whether it has 
 increased in population or remained stationary since 
 my visit to it — September 26, 1854 — I have now no 
 means of ascertaining.* 
 
 TALK WITH A YOUNG SLAVE. 
 
 In returning from a walk in the woods, by which 
 "VVeldon is surrounded, I came up to a young negro 
 man who was lying on the ground in the shade of a 
 tree, holding a yearling ox by a rope. 
 
 " Is that all you have got to do ?" I asked. 
 
 " IS'o, mass'r," said he ; " I's waitin' for a waggon 
 to come 'long." 
 
 I entered into a conversation v^ith him. He 
 answered all my questions without hesitation. He 
 
 * Mr. Helper, author of that valuable anti-slavery volume — " The 
 Impending Crisis of the South " — informs me that it is now a town 
 of 700 inhabitants. 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 115 
 
 said that he would run the risk of capture, and try- 
 to reach the ISTorth ; and he believed that dozens — 
 "yes, mass'r, lots and lots" of the slaves in this 
 neighborhood — would fly to the JSTorth, if they Tcnew 
 the way. It was not the fear of being captured, 
 he said, that prevented them from running away, 
 but ignorance of the proper route to the Free 
 States. 
 
 Several slaves had told me so before, but I had 
 never been able to devise a plan to remedy this igno- 
 rance, and thereby give to every brave bondman a 
 chance of escaping from slavery. The north star is 
 like the white man, " too mighty onsartin " for the 
 majority of the slaves to rely on : they need a guide, 
 which will serve them both by day and night — when- 
 ever they can see it. Dark and cloudy nights, too, 
 when the north star is invisible, are the most propi- 
 tious for the purpose of the runaway. 
 
 As this slave replied to my questions, I thought 
 that POCKET mariner's compasses might be made 
 most effective liberators of the African race. 
 
 magnetic liberators. 
 
 I pondered on this subject for a few seconds, and 
 then resumed the conversation : 
 
 " Did you ever see the face of a watch ?" (The 
 question may seem absurd, but there are thousands 
 of slaves who never saw a watch.) 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," said the slave. 
 
 " Do you know how the hands of it go round ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r." 
 
 " Well, we " — I spoke as a member of the human 
 race — "we have invented a thing somewhat like a 
 watch ; but instead of going round and round, its 
 
116 THE EOYIXG EDITOR 
 
 licand always points to the ^ortli. 'Now, if we were 
 to give you one of these things, would you run 
 away ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," said the slave with emphasis ; " I 
 would go to-night — and dozens on us would go too." 
 
 I described the perils of a runaw^ay's course 
 as vividly as I could. He answ^ered it by say- 
 ing: 
 
 " Well, mass'r, I doesn't care ; I'd try to get to de 
 JSTorf, if I'd one of dem dings." 
 
 THE OLD BAPTIST SLAVE. 
 
 At the same place, early one morning (for I was 
 detained here several days), I saw an old colored 
 man sitting on a pile of wood near the railroad cross- 
 ing. Eeside him lay his bag of carpenter's tools. I 
 went up to him. He touched his cap. 
 
 " Good morning, old man," I said. 
 
 " Good mornin' to you, mass'r," he rejoined. 
 
 " Are you a carpenter?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, mass'r ; in a rough way." 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 " Sixty-two year ole, mass'r." 
 
 "You stand your age very well, old man, I 
 returned. I hardly thought you were more than fifty. 
 But I have often noticed that colored people looked 
 much younger than they are. "What is that owing 
 to, do you know ?" 
 
 " Well, mass'r," said he, " I dink it's kase dey's 
 ']jliged to live temp'rate. "White folks has plenty ob 
 money, and da drinks a good deal ob liquor ; colored 
 people kent drink much liquor, kase da hasn't got 
 no money. Drinkin', mass'r," remarked the negro, 
 with tlie air of a doctor of divinity, "drinkin', 
 
IN NOKTII CAIIOLINA. 117 
 
 mass'r, 'ill bring a man down sooner'n anyding; 
 and I dink it's kase de colored people doesn't drink 
 dat da look younger dan de white ole folks." 
 
 I have said that I had often noticed this peculiar- 
 ity, but had never been able to account for it. The 
 old man's solution satisfied me. !N'egroes in the 
 country, however, sometimes procure liquor from the 
 small groceries, by stealing fowls and other farm 
 produce from their masters. Hence I found, on my 
 previous visit to E'orth Carolina, that the slave- 
 holders were warm advocates of the Maine liquor 
 law. 
 
 " Are you a free man ?" 
 
 " No, mass'r," he replied ; " I's a slave. 
 
 " I come from the North," I returned ; " would 
 you like to go there ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," he said ; " I would like to go dare 
 very much." 
 
 " Of course, you are a married man ?" 
 
 " I's been married twice, mass'r." 
 
 " Have you any children ?" 
 
 SEPARATION OF FAMILIES. 
 
 *' Yes, mass'r," said the slave. " I had twelve by 
 my firs' wife. I got her when she was seventeen, 
 and I lived wid her twenty-four years. D€7i da 
 sold her and all de chiVren. I married anoder wife 
 'bout nine years since ; but I had her little more 
 dan tree years. Da sold lier^ tooP 
 
 " Had you any children by her?" 
 
 " No, mass'r ; and I hasn't had anydirg to do wid 
 women since. I's a Baptist ; and its agin my religion 
 to have anyting to do wid anybody 'cept my wife. 
 
118 TIIK ROVING EDITOR 
 
 Vs never bothered anybody since my last wife was 
 sold away from me." 
 
 " It 's too bad," said I. E'ot Avith a smile — for I 
 never smile when I hear of men, from any motive, 
 whether religions or social, deprived by other men 
 of the God-imj^lanted necessities of their natnres. 
 If slavery had no other evils, the fact that it so often 
 separates families, forever, and causes men to lead 
 imnatural lives, and commit unnamed and unnatural 
 crimes, would make me an abolitionary insurrec- 
 tionist. 
 
 " It 's too bad," I repeated. 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," said he, " it is too bad ; but we 
 has to submit." 
 
 COLOliED CONTENTMENT. 
 
 " Do you know," I asked, " whether there are any 
 slaves who would rather remain in bondage than 
 be freer' 
 
 " No, mass'r, not one," he replied emphatically. 
 '^Dare^s not one in this county J^ 
 
 " Did you ever see one man," I asked, " in all your 
 life, who would rather be a slave than a freeman ?" 
 
 " No, mass'r." 
 
 Remember his age, reader — sixty-two years — and 
 then believe, if you choose, that the slaves arc con- 
 tented. 
 
 " Old as you are," I said, " I suppose you would 
 like to be free?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r " — sadly, very sadly — " I should like 
 bery much to spend de very few years I's got to live 
 in freedom. I would give any man $20 to $30 down, 
 if he could get me free." 
 
IN NOKTII CAROLINA. 119 
 
 " IIow much do you think your master would 
 sell you for?" 
 
 " $200, I tink, mass'r." 
 
 " Do you work for your boss, or are you hired 
 out," I inquired. 
 
 " I works," he rejoined, " wharver I kin get work. 
 1 gives my boss $50 or $60 a year — jest as 1 happens 
 to make well out — and I w^orks anywhars in the 
 State. I 's got a pass dat lets me go any whar in de 
 State — but not out on it." 
 
 " How much can you make a year ?" 
 
 " Well, mass'r, if I could get constant work all de 
 time, I could make $160 ; but I generally makes 'bout 
 $80 or $90." 
 
 " Why," I said, musing, " if anybody w^ere to buy 
 you — I mean, if an abolitionist were to buy you — 
 you could repay the money in a couple of years if 
 you were to get constant work." 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," he promptly added, " I could — and 
 I w^ould be glad to do it too." 
 
 ^' You said you never knew a colored person who 
 preferred slavery to freedom ?" 
 
 " E'o, mass'r, I neber knew one." 
 
 " Well, but did you ever know a colored person 
 w^ho said he preferred slavery ?" 
 
 '' Oil, yes, mass'r," said the slave, " I 's knowed 
 plenty dat would say so to wdiite folks ; kase if the 
 boss know^ed we wanted to be freemen, he would kick 
 and knock us 'bout, and maybe kill us. Dey of^en 
 does Mil dem on de plantations." 
 
 MUKDER WILL OUT. 
 
 "Did you ever see a slave killed on a pLantation?" 
 He replied that he did once see a girl killed on a 
 
120 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 plantation in Georgia. He said that he heard his 
 boss, a person of the name of Rees, tell his overseer 
 to take some slav^es down to Brother Holmes in (I 
 think) Gainsborough county — or from Gainsborough 
 to Hancock county — for I have forgotten which of 
 them the old man named first — and, said the brute, 
 " with w^hat niggers I have got there and these, I 
 think I can raise a crop. If you kill two niggers 
 and four horses and don't raise a crop, I'll not 
 blame you ; but if you do n't, and still do n't raise 
 a crop, I '11 think you have n't drove them at all." 
 Tlie monster added — "You needn't be afraid of kill- 
 ing that many ; I can afford to lose them." 
 
 One day this overseer came up to a girl wdio was 
 rather lagging behind, l^aming her, he said : 
 
 " I say, I thought I told you to mend your gait." 
 
 " "Well, mass'r," she said, " I'se so sick I kin hardly 
 drag one foot after the other." 
 
 He stooped down — he was a left-handed man — and 
 laid down his lash. He took up a pine root and 
 made a blow at her head. She tried to avoid the 
 blow, and received the weight of it on her neck. 
 The old man — then a stripling — was obliged, he 
 said, to stand aside to let her fall. She ^yas taken 
 up insensible, and lingered till the following morn- 
 ing. Next day she was buried. This wretch killed 
 another slave during the same season, but my in- 
 formant did not see the fatal blow struck. 
 
 PLANTATION LIFE. 
 
 Tlie old man told this story in such a manner that 
 no one could have doubted its truth. I cross-exa- 
 mined him, and his testimony was unimpeachable. 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 121 
 
 " How long is it since this happened ?" I inquired. 
 
 " Forty-two years since," said the slave. 
 
 After some further conversation on this event, I 
 asked him : 
 
 '' How much could you make by carpentering 
 when you were young ?" 
 
 "I didn't work at de carpenterin' trade, mass'r, 
 when I was young," he replied; "I worked on a 
 plantation. I was de head man. I had twenty or 
 thirty niggers under me " — rather proudly spoken — 
 *• but," he added, the Baptist overcoming the carnal 
 man, "dat's no place for a man dat has religion." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Oh, mass'r, Tease a man dat has religion should nH 
 rule over anybody P 
 
 " Why?" I again asked. "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Oh, kase, mass'r," he replied, " a man dat has 
 religion cannot bear to whip and kick de people 
 under him as dey has to do on plantations." 
 
 " Are colored people treated mry badly ?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes, mass'r," he answered, " very bad indeed ; 
 it 's hard de way dey ar treated." 
 
 We talked of several other subjects. He said that 
 if the colored people in this district were to be pro- 
 vided with compasses — the nature of which I ex- 
 plained to him — hundreds of them would fly to the 
 Free States of the Korth. 
 
 "God bless you, mass'r!" he said heartily, as we 
 parted. 
 
 It is a good thing, I thought, to be an abolitionist! 
 However apparently alone and neglected the aboli- 
 tionist may be, he has at least the consolation of 
 knowing tliat he has four millions of warm-hearted 
 friends in the Southern States ! 
 
 6 
 
122 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 Ah ! but lias the ]3ro-slaveiy man no equal conso- 
 lation ? 
 
 "It is a good thing to be a Democrat in these 
 days," said the Washington Union — the organ of the 
 Cabinet — quite recently, after publishing ten mortal 
 columns of the most profitable kind of government 
 advertisements. 
 
 Well, be it so ; every man to his taste ! 
 
VI. 
 
 m NOETH CAROLINA. 
 
 I coNTLNTTE my extracts from my Diary : 
 /September 28. — At "Weldon. This morning I took 
 a walk in the woods. A colored man, driving a 
 horse and wagon, was approaching. I accosted him 
 and got into the wagon. 
 We soon began to talk about slavery. 
 
 AFEAID OF THE ABOLITIONISTS. 
 
 He said that he had often seen me within the last 
 few days, and that the people in this district were 
 very mnch afraid of the abolitionists coming down 
 here and advising the negroes to run away. When- 
 ever a stranger came here, they asked one another 
 who he was, and used every means in their power to 
 discover his business. He advised me not to trust j 
 the free colored population, because many of them 
 were mean enough to go straight to the white people 
 and tell them that a stranger had been talking to 
 them about freedom. He advised me also to be cau- 
 tious with many of the slaves, because there were 
 many of them who would go and tell. But there 
 were many, too, who would rather die than betray 
 an abolitionist. 
 
 123 
 
124 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 THE WAGONER. 
 
 He said tliat lie would run tlie risk of capture if he 
 had a compass or a friend to direct him to the North. 
 Ignorance of the way, he added, was the chief ob- 
 stacle in preventing the slaves in this district from 
 escaping to the North. Dozens, he said, were ready 
 to fly. 
 
 We came up to a colored man who was chopping 
 in the woods. 
 
 " Now there," said the wagoner, " is a man who 
 would not tell what you said to him, and would like 
 very much the chance of being free." 
 
 We had previously met a boy driving oxen that 
 were drawing logs to town. This man was chopping 
 the trees for him. Tliey both belonged to the same 
 master, who is described by his slaves, as well as by 
 other colored people, as a type of the tribe of Legree. 
 
 We met, also, two wagons laden with cotton. 
 "' These," said the wagoner, " these come from right 
 away up the country, and very likely these boys — 
 the drivers — have travelled all night." 
 
 I bade the wagoner farewell, and went uj) to the 
 axeman. 
 
 THE AXEMAN. 
 
 He was a powerful, resolute-looking negro. A 
 cast in one of his eyes gave him an almost savagely 
 dogged appearance. 
 
 " Good day, friend." 
 
 " Good day, mass'r." 
 
 " You are a slave ?" 
 
 " Yes, sah." 
 
 " Who do you belong to ?" 
 
 u ]^xr. D ." 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 125 
 
 " lam told lie is a pretty hard master ?" 
 
 A pause. I was under examination. 
 
 " I come from the JSTortli," I said. 
 
 " Yes, sah," said the slave, who seemed to be satis- 
 fied with my appearance, " he is a very hard master." 
 
 " Have you ever run away ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have run away twice." 
 
 " Did you run ISTorth ?" 
 
 " 1^0," he replied ; " I am told no one kin get to 
 de North from here without being taken. Besides, 
 I do n't know de way." 
 
 " How far did you run ?" 
 
 " I just went round to de next county," he said. 
 
 " If you knew the way to the North, would you try 
 to get there ?" I inquired. " Would you run the risk 
 of being captured and brought back ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r," said the slave, in a manly tone, " I 
 would try ; hut dey would never hring me hack again 
 alive. ''^ 
 
 I explained the nature and uses of a compass. 
 
 " If I gave you one of these things," I added, 
 " would you risk it ?" 
 
 ARM THE SLAVES. 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, I would ; but I would like to have a 
 pistol and a knife, too." 
 
 He said that he did not care about the hardships 
 a runaway must endure, for they could not be greater 
 than the hardships he endured with his present 
 owner. 
 
 " Would you be afraid," I asked, " or would you 
 hesitate for a moment to shoot a man if he tried to 
 capture you V 
 
 " No, sah," he said, as if he meant what he said, 
 
126 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 " I would slioot liiin rather dan be taken agin ; for 
 dey would kill me any how if dey got me back 
 agin." 
 
 " Good," I said ; " you deserve to be free ! Has 
 your boss ever killed any of his slaves ?" 
 
 MIJKDEE AND TOKTUKES. 
 
 ^^ He hilled one. The boy ran away, and when 
 they got him back they lashed him and kicked him 
 about so that he only lived a week." 
 
 " Does he often lash them ?" I inquired. 
 
 " Oh, very often," said the slave. 
 
 " How many does he give them at a time ?" 
 
 "Fifty," he replied, " and seventy-five and a hun- 
 dred sometimes. I saw three men get seventy-five 
 apiece last Sunday. He drives dem very hard, and 
 if dey do n't work like beasts, he lashes dem him- 
 self, or if he is too tired to do it, he gets his son or a 
 colored man to do it for him." 
 
 " I should think," I said, " that seventy-five lashes 
 would be enough to kill a man." 
 
 " Oh !" said the slave, " it is very bad ; but dey 
 have to go to their work again the same as ever. He 
 just washes their backs down with salt w^ater, and 
 sends them to work again." 
 
 " "Washes their sore backs with salt water !" I 
 ejaculated; for although I knew that this infernal 
 operation is frequently performed in South Carolina, 
 still I cannot hear of it without a shudder of disgust. 
 " What do they do that for?" 
 
 " To take the soreness out of it, dey say." 
 
 (It is to prevent mortification.) 
 
 " But," I continued, " is it not very painful to be 
 washed in that way ?" 
 
m NOKTII CABOLINA. 127 
 
 " Yes, sail, very,^^ said the slave, " dat does n't 
 make any difference. He (the boss) does not care 
 for dat." 
 
 WOKK WOEK WORK. 
 
 " What are your working hours ?" I asked. 
 
 " From two hours before daylight till ten o'clock 
 at night." 
 
 '^Do you think that the slaves are more discon- 
 tented now than they used to be ?" 
 
 "Yes, sah," said he, "dey are getting more and 
 more discontented every year. De times is getting 
 worse and worse wid us, 'specially," he added, 
 " since dese engines have come in here." 
 
 " What difference do they make ?" I asked, suppos- 
 ing that he alluded to the Indians. 
 
 "Why," said he, "you see it is so much easier to 
 carry off the produce and sell it now ; 'cause they 
 take it away so easy; and so the slaves are druv 
 more and more to raise it." 
 
 " I see. Do you think that if we were to give the 
 slaves compasses, that 4ots' of them would run 
 away ?" 
 
 "Lots an' lots on dem," he replied, emphasizing 
 every syllable. 
 
 " Would you run away even without a pistol ?" 
 
 " Yes, sah," he said, " I would risk it ; but I would 
 rather have a pistol and knife, too, if possible." 
 
 " How did you live before when you ran away ?" 
 
 " I walked about at night, and kept mighty close 
 all day." 
 
 "Where did you find food?" 
 
 "I went," he said, "to de houses of my friends 
 about here, and they gave me something to eat." 
 
128 THE KOYING EDITOR 
 
 " I suppose you would like to have some money, 
 too, if you were going to the North ?" 
 
 '' Yes, mass'r," said he, " I would like to ; 'cause 
 if a man has money he can get food easily any- 
 whar ; and he can 't alius without it. But I would 
 try it even without money." 
 
 " Are you married ?" 
 
 " Yes, sah." 
 
 "Any children?" 
 
 "No, sah." 
 
 CLOTHING, ETC. 
 
 " "What would you do with your wife, if you were 
 to run away ?" I asked. 
 
 " I would have to leave her," he said ; " she would 
 be very willing, 'cause she knows she can 't help me, 
 and I might help her if I was once free." 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 "Thirty-five." 
 
 "How many suits of clothing do you get in the 
 year?" 
 
 "Two." 
 
 " Only one shirt at a time ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The shirt of the slaves in this State — of course I 
 allude to rural slaves — appears to be a cross between 
 a " gent's under-garment " and an ordinary potato- 
 bag. The cloth is very coarse. 
 
 " Does the boss allow you anything for yourself?" 
 
 "Nothing," he said, and looking at his used-up 
 boots — 
 
 " He hardly keeps us in shoes," he added. 
 
 " Now, when would you run away if you had a 
 compass ?" 
 
IN NORTH CAUOLTNA. 129 
 
 " I will run away to-niglit," he replied firmly, " if 
 you will only give me one of them things." 
 
 PLAN OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 In a public letter, published at this time in an 
 anti-slavery journal — dated at Weldon, or posted 
 there — I offered the following programme of action 
 for the abolition of slavery in the JSTorthern Slave 
 States. 
 
 Although I believe now that the speediest method 
 of abolisliing slavery, and of ending the eternal 
 hypocritical hubbub in Congress and the country, is 
 to incite a few scores of rattling insurrections — in a U/ 
 quiet, gentlemanly way — simultaneously in different 
 parts of the country, and by a little wholesome 
 slaughter, to arouse the conscience of the people 
 against the wrong embodied in Southern institutions, 
 still, for the sake of those more conservative minds, 
 who are not yet prepared to carry out a revolutionary 
 scheme, I will quote it, as I wrote it, and insert it 
 here : 
 
 " If I had a good stock of revolving pistols " — 
 thus this peaceful programme opens — " and as many 
 pocket-compasses, I would not leave this State until 
 I had liberated, at least, a hundred slaves. Already 
 I have spoken to great numbers of them — negroes 
 and mulattoes — resolute and bold men, who are 
 ready to fly if they knew the route, and had the 
 means of defending themselves from the blood- 
 hounds, whether quadrupeds or bipeds. 
 
 " Let not the Abolitionists of the North be de- 
 ceived. The South will never liberate her slaves, 
 unless compelled by fear to do so ; or unless the 
 activity of the abolitionists renders human property 
 
130 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 SO insecure a possession as to be comparatively 
 worthless to its owner. 
 
 " Abolitionists of the North ! Would you liberate 
 the slaves of the South as speedily as possible? I 
 will tell you how to do it within ten, or, at furthest, 
 twenty years. 
 
 ''First, Fight with all your hearts, souls and 
 strength, until the Fugitive Slave Law be repealed. 
 As soon as the ]S"orthern States are as secure against 
 the invasions of the slaveholder as Canada is to-day, 
 three-fourths of our coming victory will be won. 
 We need a sterner public sentiment at the ITorth. 
 When the peojDle shall believe that the corpse of a 
 tyrant is the most acceptable sacrifice that we -can 
 offer to the Deity — when juries shall find a verdict 
 of Served Him Eight on the body of every kid- 
 napper, or United States Commissioner, who shall 
 attempt to return a slave to bondage, and may be 
 shot, as he deserves to be, for the cowardly crime ; 
 then, we will hear of no more attempts to extend 
 the area of Human Bondage — only plaintive appeals 
 for the toleration of the iniquity in States where it 
 already exists. 
 
 ''Second. Let us carry the war into the South. We 
 have confined ourselves too long to the J^orthern 
 States. We have already, in a great measure, won 
 the battle there. Tlie public defenders of slavery 
 are rapidly retreating to the Southern States. Let 
 us follow and fight them until the last man falls ! 
 
 " In the South there are three great parties — the 
 slaveholder, the pro-slavery non-slaveholder, and the 
 anti-slavery non-slaveholder. Great numbers of the 
 slaveholders secretly believe slavery to be a curse, 
 and some of them would liberate their slaves now, if 
 
IN NORTH CAROLINA. 131 
 
 appealed to in the ' proper spirit.' Let arguments in 
 favor of abolition — especially arguments extracted 
 from the writings of Southern statesmen-— be dili- 
 gently circulated among this class of slaveholders. 
 It is useless to argue with the other class of slave- 
 holders ; for it is impossible to convince them of their 
 crime : for them let the deadly contents of the revol- 
 ver and the keenest edge of the sabre be reserved. 
 
 " Appeals should be addressed to good men ; proofs 
 that slavery is a curse to the non-slaveholding popu- 
 lation — by increasing their taxes, driving away com- 
 merce, manufactories and capital from the State — 
 which can easily be done — should be furnished to 
 the pro-slavery non-slaveholders who are invulner- 
 able to all ideas of justice. 
 
 " Let the anti-slavery population of the South be 
 associated by forming a secret society similar to the 
 Odd Fellows, or the Masons, or the Blue Lodges of 
 Missouri, and let this union be extended over the 
 entire country. The societies could circulate tracts, 
 assist slaves in escaping, and direct the movements 
 of the agents of the Grand Lodge. 
 
 " Third. Begin at the borders. Li every free border 
 town and village, let an underground railroad be in 
 active operation. Appoint a small band of bold but 
 cautious men to travel in the most northern Slave 
 States for the purpose of securing the cooperation of 
 the free colored population in assisting fugitives ; of 
 disseminating discontent among the slaves themselves, 
 and of providing tlie most energetic of them, w^ho 
 wish to escape, with pocket compasses and pistols, and 
 reliable information of the safest routes. Such agents 
 must be consummate men of the world, 'wise as 
 serpents' though formidable as lions. An incautious 
 
132 THE EOVING EDITOK. 
 
 man would soon be betrayed either by free blacks or 
 sycophant slaves, and a man incapable of judging 
 character by physiological indexes would waste both 
 his time and his stock. Ten or twelve such Apostles 
 of Freedom could easily, in one year, induce five 
 thousand slaves, at least, to fly to the North ; and of 
 this number, if they were properly equipped, three- 
 fourths, at the lowest calculation, would escape for- 
 ever. Unarmed and without any money with which 
 to purchase food, at least one-half of the fugitives 
 would probably be captured by the bloodhounds oj' 
 hoth Ireeds. 
 
 " There are many methods of enabling fugitives to 
 escape rapidly, and by a direct route, to the Free 
 States, which these agents could employ ; but they 
 must be carefully kept a secret from the slaveholder 
 and his friends." 
 
 To show my faith in this scheme, I offered my 
 services free, for three months, if any anti-slavery 
 man or society would j)rovide me with the stock. 
 
• VII. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH CAKOLINA. 
 
 I REMAINED at AVeMoii about a week — every day 
 making new excursions into the surrounding country 
 — every day holding long and confidential conversa- 
 tions with the slaves. The preceding two chapters 
 are accurate indications of my experience, and of the 
 sentiments, aspirations and condition of the negro 
 population. 
 
 I walked, after the expiration of the week, about 
 fifty miles southward, but without increasing my 
 knowledge of the workings of " the peculiar institu- 
 tion," or seeing anything noteworthy in the manners 
 or in the scenery of the country to repay me for my 
 journey. So I jumped into the cars and rode to 
 Wilmington. 
 
 A LONG WALK. 
 
 I staid there four or five days in the expectation 
 of receiving a draft from Philadelphia which a debtor 
 had promised to forward from that city to my address 
 at Wilmington. He failed to fulfill his promise. Here 
 was a pretty " fix " to be in — only a few dollars in 
 my purse — among strangers — no prospect of getting 
 money — no hope of being befriended, and no incli- 
 nation to make friends with anybody. I had not 
 enough to pay my fare to Savannah, where I intended 
 
 133 
 
134 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 to go ; but a little trifle of that kind did not discour- 
 age me. I resolved to walk to Charleston ; and, as I 
 did not know a foot of the way, to follow the rail- 
 road track. 
 
 I had no adequate conception of the nature of the 
 tour I thus carelessly resolved on. If I had known, I 
 should have shuddered to have thought of it. Tliose 
 who follow in my footsteps will find out the reason 
 when they come to the interminable and everlasting 
 black swamps; see the height of the rough, long 
 timber bridges or scaffoldings that are erected across 
 them ; the yawning widths between the cross-beams 
 which must be leaped, and their accursedly uneven 
 shape, which often makes it almost impossible — diffi- 
 cult always — to secure a foothold; and when they 
 discover, further, that a single false step, or a fit of 
 nervous dizziness, endangers your life ! It has taken 
 me a couple of hours, several times, to travel one 
 mile. If, in those days, there had been any manner 
 of despair in my heart, I know that I should have 
 abandoned this trip as hopeless. But as there was n't, 
 I trudged on — only losing my temper on one occa- 
 sion, when I came to a horrible piece of work over a 
 horrible swamp. My carpet bag incommoded me so 
 much in walking, and once or twice, in leaping, so 
 nearly caused me to lose my balance, that in a mild 
 and genial temper, and with soft words of valedictory 
 regret, I pitched it (with an unnecessarily extravagant 
 expenditure of energy) at the flabby black bosom of 
 the swamp, and then and there entertained the sinful 
 desire that some person of profane habits were pres- 
 ent, as I would willingly have given him half of my 
 cash to have done a little swearing on my private 
 account — a mode of relief which my habits and taste 
 
IN NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA. 135 
 
 would not permit me to indulge in. I suppose tins 
 sentence sliocks you very much ; but judge me not 
 until you have attempted the same dreary journey 
 that I successfully accomplished ! Probably yoio will 
 swear — and not by proxy. 
 
 I walked nearly or quite to Manchester, and then, 
 changing my mind, took the branch to Columbus, 
 the capital of South Carolina. I walked from there 
 to Augusta — sixty miles. I kej^t no notes during this 
 trip ; but in a letter written shortly after my arrival 
 in Augusta, I have preserved and recorded the anti- 
 slavery results of it. 
 
 I was ten days on the trip, I find ; but whether ten 
 days to Columbus, or ten days from Wilmington to 
 Augusta, I cannot now recall. I walked from Colum- 
 bus to Augusta in two days : that I remember — for I 
 slept one night in a barn, and the next in a flax 
 house. 
 
 Here is the sum total of my gleanings on the way. 
 
 DISCONTENTMENT. 
 
 I have spoken with hundreds of slaves on my 
 journey. Their testimony is uniform. They all 
 pant for liberty, and have great reason to do so. 
 Even a free-soil politician, I think, if he had heard 
 the slaves speak to me, would have hesitated in again 
 advocating the non-extension doctrine of his party, 
 and been inclined to exchange it for the more Christ- 
 ian and more manly doctrine of non-existence ! 
 
 Wherever I have gone, I have found the bondmen 
 discontented, and the slaveholders secretly dismayed 
 at the si mis of the times in the Korthern States. 
 
136 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA A FREE STATE. 
 
 !N^orth Carolina, nolens volens^ could be made a 
 member of the Free States, if the abolitionists would 
 send down a trusty band of liberators, amply pro- 
 vided with pistols, compasses, and a little money for 
 the fugitives. I believe that Virginia is equally at 
 our mercy ; but I am ready to vouch for North Caro- 
 lina. I questioned the slaves of that State on this 
 subject almost exclusively. Christmas is a good sea- 
 son for the distribution of such gifts ; as, at that time, 
 the Virginia and Northern Carolina slaves, who are 
 hired South during the year, are nearer to the North 
 by being at their owner's residence. If the abolition- 
 ists of the North could secure the cooperation of the 
 captains of vessels that sail to the Southern seaports, 
 several hundreds of the slaves could easily be libe- 
 rated every year in that way. 
 
 RAILROAD HANDS. 
 
 Tlie Manchester and Wilmington Eailroad owns 
 the majority of the hands who work on that line. 
 What do the Irish Democrats think of that plan ? 
 
 Their allowance varies, as it depends on the over- 
 seers. The average allowance is one peck of Indian 
 meal, and two pounds and a half of bacon a week ; 
 two suits of clothes, a blanket, and a hat, a year. 
 No money. 
 
 This road runs through the most desolate looking 
 country in the Union. Nothing but pine trees is 
 seen on both sides of the track until you enter South 
 Carolina, when a pleasant change is visible. 
 
IN NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA. 137 
 
 ALLOWANCE OF SLAVES. 
 
 In the pine tree country the boys are engaged (I 
 mean away from the railroad) in manufacturing tur- 
 pentine. The allowance of " the turpentine hands," 
 varies on different plantations and in different locali- 
 ties. Slaves everywhere in the rural districts of Yir- 
 ginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, receive one peck 
 of Indian meal per week. On the turpentine planta- 
 tions some " bosses " allow, in addition, one quart of 
 molasses and five pounds of pork ; others, one quart 
 of molasses and three pounds of pork ; others, again, 
 two or two and a half pounds of pork, minus the mo- 
 lasses. On many plantations the slaves are allowed 
 one peck of meal a week without any other provisions. 
 In such cases, I believe, they are generally permitted 
 to keep poultry, whose eggs they dispose of on Sun- 
 days or at night, and with the money buy pork or 
 vegetables. They bake the meal into cakes or dump- 
 lings, or make mush with it. One peck of meal is as- 
 much as any one person can consume in a week. 
 No slave ever complained to me of the quantity of 
 his allowance. Several who received no pork, or only 
 two pounds- a fortnight, complained that " We's not 
 'nuf fed, mass'r, for de work da takes out on us ;" 
 and others, again, said that the sameness of the diet 
 was sickening. Everywhere, however, the slaves 
 receive one peck of meal a week ; nowhere, except 
 in cities, and on some turpentine plantations, do they 
 receive any money. I heard of one man — a hard 
 taskmaster too, it was said — who gave his hands fifty 
 dollars a year, if they each performed a certain extra 
 amount of labor. This is the only instance of such 
 conduct that I ever heard of. The only money ever 
 
138 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 given to rural slaves — plantation hands never have 
 money — is at Christmas, when some owners give 
 their hands ten or fifteen dollars. The majority, 
 however, do not give one cent. 
 
 " EVEKY OOMFOET IN HEALTH." * 
 
 The railroad hands sleep in miserable shanties 
 along the line. Their bed is an inclined pine board 
 — nothing better, softer, or warmer, as I can testify 
 from my personal experience. Their covering is a 
 blanket. The fireplaces in these cabins are often so 
 clumsily constructed that all the heat ascends the 
 chimney, instead of diffusing itself throughout the 
 miserable ]iut, and warming its still more miserable 
 tenants. In such cases, the temperature of the cabin, 
 at this season of the year (November), is bitterly cold 
 and uncomfortable. I frequently awoke, at all hours, 
 shivering Avith cold, and found shivering slaves hud- 
 dled up near the fire. Of course, as the negroes are 
 not released from their work until sunset, and as, 
 after coming to their cabins, they have to cook their 
 ash-cakes, or mush, or dumplings, these huts are by 
 no means remarkable for their cleanly appearance. 
 Poor fellows ! in that God-forsaken section of the 
 earth they seldom see a w^oman from Christmas to 
 Christmas. If they are married men, they are tan- 
 talized by the thought that their wives are perform- 
 ing for rich women of another race those services that 
 would brighten their own gloomy life-pathway. 
 They may, perhaps — who knows ? — have still sadder 
 reflections. 
 
 * " They are happy. They have a kind and generous master ; every 
 comfort in health ; good nursing when ill ; their church and Bible, 
 and their Saviour, who is also ours." — Alone : by Marion Harland. 
 
IN NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA. 139 
 
 WHITE AND NEGEO HOSPITALITY. 
 
 Travelling afoot, and looking rather seedy, I did 
 not see any of that celebrated hosj^itality for which 
 the Southerners are perpetually praising themselves. 
 They are very hospitable to strangers who come to 
 them well introduced — who don't need hospitality, in 
 fact ; but they are very much the reverse when a 
 stranger presents himself under other and unfavor- 
 able circumstances. The richer class of planters are 
 especially inhospitable. The negroes are the hospi- 
 table class of the South. 
 
 One evening I travelled very late ; the night was 
 dark, too, and a storm was coming on. It was nearly 
 ten o'clock when I went up to the house of a planter 
 and asked to be permitted to stay there all night. I 
 had lost my way, and did not know where I was. 
 My request was sullenly rejected. I asked no favor ^ 
 for I was careful always to incur no debt to the 
 slaveholder, excepting the debt of unrelenting hostil- 
 ity.* I asked simply for a lodging. There was no 
 possibility, I found, of moving him, although there 
 were ample accommodations in his house. He di- 
 rected me to the railroad track again, and said that if 
 I walked about half a mile southward, I would come 
 to a house, where, perhaps^ I would be accommodated 
 for the night. I did not stir until I was warmed. 
 When I went out it was perfectly dark. I groped 
 down to the railroad track, and found it was im23os- 
 
 * I had so often seon anti-slavery travellers accused of abusing 
 hospitalit)', that, when I went South, I resolved to partake of none. 
 I never even took a cigar from a slaveholder without seizing the 
 earliest opportunity of returning it, or giving him its equivalent in 
 •Kome form. 
 
140 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 sible to see my way. I went back — offered to sleep 
 on tlie floor — to sit up all night — to pay for any kind 
 of nocturnal shelter. The storm was beginning. 
 No ! He would not listen to me. I saw a neerro 
 hut at a distance in the woods, and adjoining the 
 railroad track. I went up to it. It was hardly 
 larger than an ordinary pig-sty. I went in and told the 
 boys that I intended to stay there all night. One of 
 them was evidently afraid, and urged me to go to his 
 master. I told him that his master was a brute, and 
 I would rather stay here. This remark brought me 
 into favor. They offered me the warmest corner, and 
 gave me a blanket to cover me. I laid down and 
 pretended to sleep. By and by the door opened, and 
 a mulatto woman entered, and after some talk about 
 the white folks — not at all complimentary to their 
 masters — she laid down at the furthest end of the 
 hut and went to sleep. There were broad shelves 
 round the cabin, on which, and on the floor, the 
 negroes slept. 
 
 How many do you suppose slept in that miserable 
 hut? 
 
 Five negroes, the mulatto woman and myself. 
 " Every comfort in health !" 
 
 CHRISTIAN MORALITY AND SLAVERY. 
 
 From the talk of the boys (I wrote) you would not 
 have imagined that any woman was present. How 
 is it that clergymen forget the fact that Slavery can- 
 not exist without creating what they anathematize as 
 crime ? Adultery, fornication, and still viler acts are 
 the necessary consequences of the domestic institu- 
 tion of the South. 
 
 I belong to the Ruling Eace : dare a slave resist 
 
IN NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA. 141 
 
 my criminal advances ? By a false statement before 
 a magistrate, or by a blow, I can punish her if slie 
 does. Her word is not taken in any court of justice, 
 and she does not dare to resent my blow. 
 
 I am a rich man : the slave is without a cent. Is 
 it likely — thus bribed — that she will refuse my 
 request, however low, or however guilty ? 
 
 Again, I am a white man, and I know that mu- 
 latto women almost always refuse to cohabit with the 
 blacks ; are often averse to a sexual connection with 
 persons of their own shade / but are gratified by the 
 criminal advances of Saxons, whose intimacy, they 
 hope, may make them the mothers of children 
 ahnost white — which is the quadroon girl's ambi- 
 tion : is it likely, then, that a young man will resist 
 temptation, when it comes in the form of a beautiful 
 slave maiden, who has perhaps — as is often the 
 case — a fairer complexion than his own, and an ex- 
 quisitely handsome figure ? 
 
 It is neither likely, nor so I It is a crime against 
 morality to be silent on such subjects. Slavery, not 
 Popery, is the foul Mother of Harlots. 
 
 A HOSPITABLE SWAMP. 
 
 JN'ext morning I arose at an early hour — before the 
 boss was up — and resumed my peregrinations. What, 
 think you, did I discover ? A few rods distant from 
 the master's house, in the direction that he had 
 advised me to take in the dark night, when he told 
 me "to walk half a mile southward," lay a wide 
 soft marsh, far beneath the railroad track, to cross 
 which, even in daylight, required the closest atten- 
 tion, and steadiness of nerve. If I had attempted to 
 cross it in the night-time I should unquestionably 
 
142 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 have fallen, and been lost in tlie black slushy depths 
 of the marsh. 
 
 Columbus is a beautiful little city ; but as the let- 
 ter in which I described it, and my journey to 
 Augusta, was unfortunately lost, and as I am too 
 faithful a chronicler to rely on my memory alone for 
 facts, I will here close my chapter on slavery in 
 North and South Carolina, and devote the remainder 
 of my space to the slaves and the States of Georgia 
 and Alabama. 
 
 Postscript. — Maiden^ Massachusetts, Dee. 80. — In my cora- 
 mimications to my friends, written on tliis tour, I strictly con- 
 fined my observations to the slave pojjulation — the colored 
 South. The evidences that I saw daily of the injurious ellbcts 
 of slavery on the soil, trade, customs, social condition aud morals 
 of the whites I reserved for editorial use; to advance, from 
 time to time, to such "enlightened fellow-citizens" as are 
 incapable of seeing or appreciating the self-evident triitli that 
 every crime is necessarily a curse also; that it is impossible to 
 be a robber, either as an individnal or as a race, and perma- 
 nently to prosper even in material interests. I saw, on this trip, 
 and heard enough, to enable me to testify to the truth of tlie 
 paragraph sidjjoined, I>y a gentleman whoso writuigs have done 
 mucii, I learn, to advance the knowledge of that sublime — aye, 
 and terrible — truth, which the South has yet to learn or die — 
 that you cannot fasten a chain on the foot of a slave without 
 patting the other end of it around your own neck. 
 
 Mr. Olmsted, speaking of the turpentine plantation, says: 
 " Slaves and Otuer People in the Turpentine Forests. — 
 The negroes employed in this branch of industry, seemed to me 
 to be unusually intelligent and cheerful. Decidedly they are 
 superior in every moral and ijitellectual respect to the great mass 
 of the white people inhabiting the turj)entine forest. Among 
 the latter there is a large number, I should think a majority, 
 of entirely uneducated, poverty-stricken vagaljonds. I mean 
 by vagabonds, simply, people without habitual, delinite occu- 
 pation or reliable means of liveliliood. They are ])oor, hav- 
 ing almost no ])roi)erty but their own bodies ; and the use of 
 these, that is, tlieir labor, they are not accustomed to hire out 
 statedly and regularly, so as to obtain capital by wages, but 
 only occasionally l>y the day or job, when driven to it by neces- 
 sity. A family of these people will commonly hire, or 'squat' 
 and bnild, a little log cal)in, so made that it is only a shelter from 
 
IN NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA. 14:6 
 
 rain, the sides not being chinked, and having no more furniture 
 or pretension to comfort than is commonly provided a criminal 
 in the cell of a prison. They will cultivate a little corn, and 
 possibly a few roods of potatoes, cow-peas and coleworts. They 
 will own a few swine, that find their living in the forest ; and 
 pretty certainly, also, a rifle and dogs ; and the men, ostensibly, 
 occupy most of their time in hunting. A gentleman of Fay- 
 ette ville told me that he had, several times appraised, under 
 oath, the whole household property of families of this class at 
 less than $20. If they have need of money to purchase cloth- 
 ing, etc., they obtain it by selling their game or meal. If they 
 have none of this to spare, or an insufficiency, they will work 
 for a neighboring farmer for a few days, and they usually get 
 for their labor tifty cents a day, Jinding themselves. The farm- 
 ers say that they do not like to employ them, because they 
 cannot be relied upon to finish what they undertake, or to 
 work according to directions ; and because, being white men, 
 they cannot 'drive' them. That is to say, their labor is even 
 more inefficient and unmanageable than that of slaves. That I 
 have not formed an exaggerated estimate of the proportion of 
 such a class, will appear to the reader more probable from the 
 testimony of a pious colporteur, given before a public meeting 
 in Charleston, in February, 1855. I quote from a Charleston 
 
 paper's report. The colporteur had been stationed at 
 
 county, N. C. : — ' The larger portion of the inhabitants seemed to 
 be totally given up to a species of mental hallucination, which 
 carried them captive at its will. They nearly all believed impli- 
 citly in witchcraft, and attributed everything that happened, 
 good or bad, to the agency of persons whom they supposed 
 possessed of evil spirits.' The majority of what I have termed 
 turpentine-farmers — meaning the small proprietors of the long- 
 leafed pine forest land, are people but a grade superior, in char- 
 acter or condition, to these vagabonds. They have habitations 
 more like houses — log-cabins, commonly, sometimes chinked, 
 oftener not — without windows of glass, but with a few pieces 
 of substantial old-fashioned heir-loom furniture ; a vegetable 
 garden, in which, however, you will find no vegetable but what 
 they call 'collards' (colewort) for 'greens'; fewer dogs; more 
 swine, and larger clearings for maize, but no better crops than 
 the poorer class. Their property is, nevertheless, often of con- 
 siderable money value, consisting mainly of negroes, who, asso- 
 ciating intimately with their masters, are of superior intelli- 
 gence to the slaves of the wealthier classes. The larger pro- 
 prietors, who are also often cotton planters, cultivating the 
 riclier low lands, are, sometimes, gentlemen of good estate — 
 intelligent, cultivated and hospitable. The number of these, 
 however, is extremely small." 
 
VIII. 
 
 A PLAGUE STRICKEN CITY. 
 
 I WELL remember my first entrance into tlie city 
 of Augusta. Tlie yellow fever was raging there, as 
 well as in the cities of Charleston and Savannah. 
 Everybody was out of town ! 
 
 The nearer I approached Augusta, the more fre- 
 quently was I asked, as I stopped on the way to talk 
 to the people, or entered their houses to get water or 
 food, where I was bound for and how the yellow 
 fever was ? 
 
 When I answered that I was bound for Augusta, a 
 stare of surprise, a reproof, or ejaculation of astonish- 
 ment, was very sure to follow. Two gentlemen were 
 even kind enough to tell me that I looked as if I had 
 caught the yellow fever already. I was not surprised 
 at their startling statement when I came to view my 
 image in a mirror. I was indeed quite ill from un- 
 accustomed fatigues, and the incessant enjoyment of 
 " every comfort in health," which I had shared during 
 my trip with the Carolina slaves. 
 
 " God help me !" I said ; " a few more ' comforts' — 
 say the comforts of sickness — and I w^ould soon be a 
 tenant of that blessed habitation, to which worthy 
 members of the African race, like the good old Uncle 
 Edward, are accustomed to repair to immediately 
 after their decease on earth." 
 
 144 
 
IN GEOKGIA. 145 
 
 A CRABBED OLD MAN. 
 
 I well remember, too, when within ten miles of 
 the plague-stricken city, that I astonished every one 
 whom I met, in walking along the road, by a long 
 and hearty roar of laughter, in which, without inter- 
 ruption, I continued to indulge for nearly an hour. 
 
 I came up to a gate. A crabbed looking old man 
 was working inside of it in a sort of kitchen garden. 
 I asked him if I might come in and get a drink of 
 water at the well. 
 
 " Where y' goin' to ?" he snapped. 
 
 " Augusta." 
 
 " Must be a d^d fool," he jerked out, looking at 
 me savagely. " Do n't ye know the yaller fever 's 
 there?" 
 
 " Yes, old man, I do." 
 
 " You '11 die ev you-go-thar." 
 
 " I wo n't live to be uncivil then," I said. 
 
 " Hum !" he grunted. 
 
 "What o'clock is it?" 
 
 " 'Bout twelve." 
 
 " Can't you sell me something to eat, or get me a 
 dinner ?" 
 
 "No," he snapped, talking so rapidly that his 
 words often ran together; " old-woman 's-busy ; we- 
 do n't-get dinners for Tom-Dick-en-Ilarry. Need n't 
 ask us." 
 
 " Curse your insolence !" I said. " I asked you a 
 civil question. I want no favors. I '11 pay you for 
 all I get. May I have a drink ?" 
 
 " Guess-you-kin-get it," he said, looking as if he 
 meant to fight ; but, seeing that I was angry in ear- 
 nest, he merely added — " there 's-the-well." 
 
 7 
 
146 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 I went in and was going straight to it. 
 
 " Hello ! good-God-STOP !" lie shouted in a trem- 
 bling, earnest tone ; " yev-got the yaller-fever — let- 
 me-get from between you-en-the-wind !" 
 
 I roared. But the little Yitriol Yial was evidently 
 in earnest, for he ran away as if the very devil was 
 after him. 
 
 His wife — a quiet, dignified personage — ^in sj)ite of 
 his frequent, shrieked warnings to her, came kindly 
 forward and gave me a glass. 
 
 AUGUSTA. 
 
 Opposite Augusta, on the other side of the Savan- 
 nah River, is the town of Hamburg, in South Caro- 
 lina. Although the pestilence had raged in Augusta 
 with terrible fatality for more than a month, no case 
 of yellow fever had as yet occurred in the town, of 
 Hamburg. The wind, fortunately for the town, had 
 blown in the opposite direction ever since the plague 
 broke out. They expected to be stricken as soon as 
 the wind should veer about. Yet they escaped ; no 
 single case occurred there ; for the wind was friendly 
 to them to the end. 
 
 I walked down to the river side. It was sad to see 
 Augusta — apparently deserted — not a human being 
 anywhere visible! When the people found that I 
 intended to cross, they earnestly remonstrated with 
 me. Eut I went up to the bridge — and stepped on 
 it. It is rather a solemn thing to do at such a time ; 
 it requires either courage or a blind faith in Fate. I 
 believed in destiny ; and therefore never hesitated to 
 run any risk of any kind anywhere. So I went 
 over. 
 
 I met no one. "When I landed on the opposite side. 
 
IN GEORGIA. 147 
 
 tlie first siglit that 1 saw, far away up the street, was 
 a black hearse standing at a door. One or two 
 negroes were working on the bank of the river. I 
 walked along the street that runs parallel with it. 
 Everything was as still as a calm midnight at sea ; 
 no living creature was astir — neither men, women, 
 children, horses, nor dogs ! I turned up another 
 street ; and, in doing so, suddenly caught a glimpse 
 of a lady, dressed in deepest mourning, as she quickly 
 disappeared into a doorway, which was immediately 
 closed behind her. I continued to walk through the 
 deserted streets : for more than an hour I travelled 
 about the city in every direction. The houses were 
 all closed. I saw no sign of life, excepting, in all, 
 four or five negroes, in diiferent places, and a gentle- 
 man in the principal street, walking very rapidly 
 and clad in mourning. Perhaps the utter desolation 
 of Augusta may best be inferred from the fact, that 
 this city of at least twenty thousand inhabitants, 
 was estimated, when I entered it, to contain only 
 from one hundred and fifty to two hundred whites, 
 who were dying at the rate of six, eight, and ten 
 a day ! 
 
 I bent my steps to the burying-ground. I had 
 become very sombre by the desolation everywhere 
 so apparent; but when I entered the little dead- 
 house at one corner of the cemetery, I could not re- 
 frain from a hearty laugh. 
 
 TUE NEGRO OF THE CEMETERY. 
 
 It was the coolest thing I ever saw ! There, on a 
 coffin, sat a wrinkled old negro, holding a broken 
 piece of mirror close to his nose, and scraping his 
 furrowed face, might and main, with a very dull 
 
14S THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 razor wliicli lie held in his right hand. The contrast 
 between his sombre seat and its pallid tenant, his 
 extraordinary contortions of countenance, and his 
 employment, was so great (and such a ludicrous pic- 
 ture of life withal), that I startled him by a sudden 
 laugh and complimentary salutation. 
 
 He told me that the coachman, who had been em- 
 ployed to drive the dead to the burying-ground, w^as 
 himself a corpse, and that every one who had taken 
 the position had fallen a speedy victim to the terrible 
 pestilence. But still, he thought, they would get an- 
 other " right away," for the pay was high, and there 
 were fools enough to jump at the chance of escaping. 
 
 " You may have noticed," I w^rote at this time to a 
 Northern friend, " the extraordinarily small number 
 of colored people who die from yellow fever, as com- 
 pared with the voluminous array of the white vic- 
 tims of the pestilence. Ludicrous and curious 
 enouo-h are the reasons advanced to account for this 
 difference. 
 
 " No care on their minds," said some. 
 
 " Came from a hot climate !" said another. 
 
 " Two centuries ago ?" I asked, ironically. 
 
 This philosophical old negro gave me the true 
 reason. The whites are effeminate and enfeebled by 
 idleness, debauchery, and drunkenness ; while the 
 blacks are industrious, temperate, and in every way 
 as virtuous as their condition admits of. 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 I entered the cemetery. It is level and rather 
 small, but finely shaded. I walked to one corner of 
 it. 
 
 Three little graves, little more than a span long, 
 
IN GEORGIA. 149 
 
 side by side, first brought the reluctant tears to my 
 eyes. I counted over fifty new-made graves in that 
 melancholy corner alone, and could have stepped 
 from one to another, and stood on each, without e^'er 
 once touching the undug sod ! ISTever before did I 
 stand so near the Unseen Land — never since have I 
 felt any fear or any awe of death. Everything around 
 me was dead or dying. I felt as if I now were out 
 of harmony with nature — the only living thing in an 
 expiring earth. The long bent grass was yellow j 
 the roses and the flowers were dying ; the sere autumn 
 leaves were dropping from the trees ; and the sick, 
 languid wind seemed to be spending its feeble breath 
 in sighing a sad chant for the last of life ! The 
 leaves, the grass, and the wind united in this dying 
 dirge, whose solemn notes were these recent clusters 
 of untimely graves. 
 
 I sat down and listened, and wished for death. It 
 must, indeed, I felt, be a terrible fate — to be the last 
 man alive ! 
 
 Tlie sighing of the wind, and the sad sights around 
 me, soon seemed to throw me in a trance — from 
 which I awoke to fear death and the grave no more 
 on earth. I seemed to have been dead and in the 
 spirit land, and reluctantly returned to earth-life 
 again. 
 
 When I opened my eyes, the tears started up un- 
 bidden and resistless. It was a simple thing that 
 called them up. It had nothing poetical, or solemn 
 or sacred about it. It was only a shingle ! I had 
 not particularly noticed it before, although now I 
 saw that there was one of them on every new grave. 
 I did not touch it ; for it was on sacred soil. I drew 
 near, and saw on it, in pencil marks, initials and a 
 
150 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 date. That was all. I put my hand over my face 
 and wept like a girl. They were hastily written, 
 those simple records ; but how ominous and how 
 graphic ! Could any eloquence have so faithfully 
 portrayed the condition of a plague-stricken city ! 
 Shingles for tombstones — no time for marble ; for the 
 chisel, a pencil — hastily used: and away — away — 
 away — for dear, dear life ! Poor cowardly relatives, 
 make haste — make haste, or the shingle may yet 
 mark wdiere your timid corpses lie ! Aw^ay ! away ! 
 away ! 
 
 With tears streaming down my face — no sound, 
 save the sighing of the winds, and the grass and the 
 leaves — no grasshopper, even, and no bird, to tell me 
 that there was life still astir — I slowly, slowly, moved 
 over to the opposite corner of the burying-ground. 
 
 Sixty — seventy — eighty — eighty-one — two! 
 
 An open grave ! 
 
 I stopped my enumeration, and went over to it. I 
 was sick and tired, and could count the red graves 
 no longer. 
 
 I expected to see a coffin at the bottom of the 
 grave ; but it was empty. I looked again, and sud 
 denly uttered an exclamation of delight. 
 
 I seized the shovel, and jumped down into the 
 open grave. 
 
 I know that the reader will laugh at me — I know 
 that some of you will think that I was mad ; but 1 
 never before experienced a keener thrill of pleasure, 
 never felt so sudden a love for any living thing, as 
 when 1 saw, at the bottom of the open grave, and 
 jumped into it to rescue — a mouse ! 
 
 Yes, it was a poor little mouse, that, by some mis- 
 chance, had fallen into the open grave. I do n't feel 
 
IN GF.ORGIA. 151 
 
 ashamed to confess that I loved it ! Insignificant 
 and ignoble seeming as it was, I hailed it a messen- 
 ger from a living world, with which, in mj sad re- 
 flections, and amid these sad scenes, I had begun to 
 believe that I had no further business. For I was 
 sick in body — predisposed, as people told me, to the 
 plague — and soon expected to lie there, in the ceme- 
 tery, without even a shingle for a tombstone. So I 
 thanked God, and blessed the little captive mouse, as 
 I rescued and set it at liberty again ! 
 
IX. 
 
 GEOEGIA NOTES. 
 
 As I had no hope now of receiving a remittance 
 from the North, I doffed my coat, and went to work 
 at a trade. 
 
 I remained in Augusta nearly two months. 
 
 From letters written there during that time, I sub- 
 join such selections as are appropriate to my purpose. 
 
 A ghost; or the haunted cabin. 
 
 "Haunted!" said I; "do peoj^le here really be- 
 lieve in ghosts ?" 
 
 "Yes," said the landlord, "there are thousands, 
 both in this State and South Carolina, who believe in 
 them as firmly as they believe in anything. The old 
 time people all believe in them." 
 
 " And this cabin was haunted, you say ?" 
 
 The cabin referred to stood on a lonely field west- 
 ward of Charleston. 
 
 " It got that reputation for years," resumed my 
 companion. " Nobody would go near it, night nor 
 day. On dark nights, people who rode along the 
 highway, near the cabin, often reported that they had 
 seen it. Hundreds saw it. I believed it myself. I'd 
 as lief have gone into a rattlesnake's nest, as into that 
 there field after dark." 
 
 152 
 
THE EOVING EDITOR. 153 
 
 " Is it Still liaunted?" I asked. 
 
 "No," said the landlord. "N'ot now. He was 
 found out." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "The ghost!" 
 
 "The deuce! How?" 
 
 "Why, you see, there was a sort of drunken fellow 
 lived not far off; and when he's on a spree he 
 does n't care a fig for anything. He 's a regular dare- 
 devil. Well, one night he determined to go a ghost- 
 hunting. He had a horse that was a very singular 
 beast ; it would stand still if he fell off, or go home 
 of itself, if he was too drunk to guide it — which was 
 often the case. Well, he rides up to the field, and 
 sure enough there was the ghost." 
 
 " What was it like ?" I asked. 
 
 " He said it was like a body as white as a corpse, 
 but without either head, arms or legs." 
 
 " Was he not frightened ?" 
 
 " He said he would have been frightened to 
 death," resumed my landlord, " if he had not been 
 so drunk that he would as lief have met the devil as 
 not. Well, his horse reared. He spurred it. It was 
 no use. It would n't go one step further, although 
 the ghost stood not more 'n a rod from his head." 
 
 "What did he do then?" 
 
 "Oh! he brought a lick at the ghost with his 
 whip. The lash rested on it. Now, then, said he, I 
 was sure it was something more natr'al than it got 
 the credit for ; bekase, you see, if it had been a ghost 
 the lash would have ffone throu<:>:h it." 
 
 "So it would," said one of the boarders, "so it 
 would : that 's accordin' to natur'." 
 
 Tlie landlord resumed. 
 
154 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 " As soon as the whip touched the ghost, it went 
 backwards to the door of the cabin. He spurred his 
 horse. It was no nse agin. It would n't go a step. 
 So he got oiF and tied her to a post, and then rushed 
 at the ghost, on foot, whip in hand. As he came at it, 
 it kept agoin' back and back, till at last it got inside 
 the cabin, and was beginnin' to shut the door, when he 
 gave another lick at it, and then rushed forward and 
 seized a hold of it !" 
 
 One of the boarders drew a long breath. 
 
 " What was it ?" asked another, open-mouthed and 
 anxious. 
 
 " What do you think ?" asked the landlord, he-he- 
 he-ing heartily ; " what d' ye think ?" 
 
 JSTobody could think. So the landlord relapsed 
 again. When he had recovered so far as to speak : 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" he cried. " Oh-a Lord !— ha ! ha ! 
 ha !-a-a ! Do you give it up ?" 
 
 We gave it up. 
 
 " He ! he !-e-e-e !" he began, " he-e-e-e ! It was 
 a strong buck nigger, who had run away from his 
 boss in Georgia four years before. He had lived 
 there ever since. He was as black as coal, and 
 every night used to walk about in his shirt-tail, and 
 frighten the folks round about out of their five 
 senses !" 
 
 " But how did he live «" I asked. 
 
 " Oh !" said the landlord, " he stole at night. 
 
 made him strike up a light in the cabin, and 
 
 found it half full of provisions." 
 
 SOUTHERN AUDACITY OF ASSERTION. 
 
 One of the most remarkable characteristics of con- 
 versation at the South, is the audacity with which 
 
IN GEORGIA. 155 
 
 the most flagrant falsehoods are advanced as unde- 
 niable truths, when the subject of negro slavery is 
 under discussion. That the negroes are perfectly 
 satisfied with slavery ; that the blacks of the ISTorth 
 are the most miserable of human beings ; that all 
 slaves are happy, and all free negroes wTetched: 
 these ridiculously false assertions are far more ear- 
 nestly believed by " the public " of the South, than 
 the " self-evident truths " of the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence are believed by the wildest, the most 
 fanatical of European Democrats. From "Wisconsin 
 to Georgia, I have frequently found men who did not 
 fear to laugh at the doctrines of Jefferson as rhet- 
 orical absurdities ; but, in the Seaboard Slave States, 
 I have yet to meet the first Southerner who believes 
 that the condition of the Northern negroes is superior 
 to the condition of the Southern slaves. 
 
 In a recent conversation in this city, I emphati- 
 cally denied — first, that the slaves are contented with 
 bondage; and, secondly, that their condition was 
 enviable as compared with that of their JSTorthern 
 brethren. My denial was received with a simulta- 
 neous shout of derision and laughter by every person 
 in the room. 
 
 " What privileges have they (the free negroes) at 
 the North that the slaves have not here ?" 
 
 I did not deem it expedient to utter a reply 
 that would have silenced them^ but probably tarred 
 and feathered me also; but I ventured to sug- 
 gest: 
 
 " Well, there's the privilege of acquiring know- 
 ledge, for example." 
 
 " I guess," said one, " there '5 very feio niggers in 
 this State that ca7i H read H 
 
166 THE KOVING EDITOPw 
 
 " I do n't believe one-tenth of tliem can 't read," 
 said another. 
 
 'Now, as there is nothing more certain than that 
 not one slave in five hundred can read, these asser- 
 tions (and they are bnt types of a numerous tribe), 
 will enable you to see how it is that JSTorthern men, 
 who travel South, and accept such statements without 
 personal experience or investigation, so frequently 
 return home convinced that the slaveholders are a 
 much misrepresented class and the negroes a highly 
 privileged people. 
 
 "They are not contented; I know it from them- 
 selves," I added, rather incautio,usly. 
 
 "Oh h — 11!" said one sensual-eyed fellow; "I 
 know better than that. I Ve seen niggers that ran 
 away from here to the E"orth at New York, and they 
 offered to work for. me all their lives if I would only 
 pay their passage back again." 
 
 The reader may guess without difiiculty what I 
 thought of this statement. In the land of pistols, 
 bowies, and tar and feathers, however, an abolitionist, 
 if he desires to accomplish anything, must be exceed- 
 ingly prudent in his words. I merely rejoined : 
 
 " I should very much like to see one negro who 
 would rather be a slave than free." 
 
 THE NEGKO WHO WOULD n't BE FREE ! 
 
 "Why, there," said the Southron, pointing to a 
 negro who liad just entered the room, " there 's a 
 nigger there that you could n't hire to be free." 
 
 He was asked, and replied that he would not be 
 free. 
 
 " IS'ow, thar .'" Triumphantly. 
 
 I said nothing and the conversation dropped. In a 
 
IN GEORGIA. 167 
 
 few days after it, the negro came to me and we had 
 a long conversation. 
 
 He asked me whether^ on returning to New York^ 
 I would take him along with me as a servant. He 
 offered to repay whatever expenses I might incur ^ hoth 
 on my own account and his fare^ as soon as he could 
 obtain emp>loyme7it in the Free States, 
 
 " Do you know a single person of color," I asked, 
 " who does not want to be a freeman ?" 
 
 " JSTo, sir ; not one," was his decisive answer. 
 
 " When they ask you whether you want to be free, 
 you always say no, I suppose f 
 
 "Yes," said the slave, with a smile of contempt, 
 " I says so to them — we all does — but it 's not so^ 
 
 "Is it not amazing to see them believe such stuff?" 
 I remarked. 
 
 " It is dat, mass'r," replied the slave whom " you 
 could n't hire to be free," but who offered to hire me 
 — ^to be free ! 
 
 Not one man — not even one JN'ortherner — in ten 
 who speaks with the slaves on the subject of bondage 
 ascertains their sincere opinions. They never will 
 learn what they are until they address the slaves, not 
 as bondmen but as brothers. This is the secret of 
 my universal success with the slaves. I have been 
 their favorite and confidant wherever I have gone, 
 because I never once adopted the " shiftless " policy 
 of addressing them as if conscious of being a scion of 
 a nobler race. 
 
 THE FOREIGN POPULATION OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 I am sorry to say that the Irish population, with 
 very few exceptions, are the devoted supporters of 
 
158 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 Soutliern slavery. Tliey have acquired the reputa- 
 tion, both among the Southerners and Africans, of 
 being the most merciless of negro task-masters. Eng- 
 lishmen, Scotchmen and Germans, with very few ex- 
 ceptions, are either secret abolitionists or silent neu- 
 trals. An Englishman is treated with far more and 
 sincerer respect by the slaves than any American. 
 They have heard of Jamaica ; they have sighed for 
 Canada. I have, seen the eyes of the londmen in the 
 Cctrolinas sjparMe as they tallied of the jprohahilities 
 of a war with the " old Britishr A war with Eng- 
 land NOW, would, in all probability, extinguish South- 
 ern slavery forever. 
 
 A SOUTHERN REQUIEM. 
 
 It is sad to hear a slaveholder, of the less educated 
 class, speak in eulogy of a negro who has gone to the 
 world where the weary are at rest. It is sickening 
 to think, as he recounts their virtues, that he never 
 could have regarded them as immortal souls ; that 
 their value in his eyes consisted solely of their animal 
 or mechanical excellences ; that he measured a hu- 
 man servant by the self-same standard with which 
 he gauged his horses and his cattle. 
 
 One day, after listening to a conversation of this 
 character — not in Georgia, however, but another 
 Slave State — I endeavored to put a slaveholder's 
 post-mortem praises into rhyme — to write a requiem 
 for a valued or Ydluable slave. Here it is : 
 
 I. 
 
 Haste ! bury her under the meadow's green lea, 
 My faithful old black woman Sue ; 
 
 There never was negro more 7iseful than she, 
 There never was servant more true : 
 
IN GEORGIA. 159 
 
 Ah ! never again -will a slaveholder own 
 A darkey so honest as she who has gone. 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 II. 
 
 They say that I worked her both early and late, 
 
 That my discipline shortened her days ; 
 'Twas God and not I who predestined her fate — 
 
 To Him be the curses — or praise ! 
 / thanked him that one so unworthy should own 
 A darkey so robust as she who has gone. 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 My enemies say that my coifers are stained 
 With the price of the fruits of her womb ; 
 Yet, what if I sold them ? she never complained. 
 
 From her cradle-bed down to her tomb. 
 
 Ah ! never again will a slaveholder own 
 
 A darkey so pious as she who has gone. 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 
 Gone to her rest in the skies! 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 They say that she bore me a child whom I sold — 
 
 I doubt, but I do not deny ; 
 Yet e'en if I bartered its body for gold, 
 
 'Tis God who 's to blame and not I, 
 For He in His wrath said that Saxons should own 
 The offspring of Canaan — like her who has gone. 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her home in the skies ! 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her home in the skies. 
 
160 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 Haste ! bury her under the meadow's green lea, 
 
 My faithful old black woman Sue ; 
 I '11 pray to the Lord for another like she, 
 
 As dutiful^ fruitful, and true ! 
 Yet I fear me that never again shall I own 
 A darkey so "likely" as her who has gone \ 
 Gone ! gone ! gone 
 Gone to her rest in the skies ! 
 
 Gone ! gone ! gone ! 
 Gone to her rest in the skies! 
 
SELF-EDUCATED SLAVES. 
 
 The population of Augusta, as I have already 
 said, was estimated at twenty thousand. Yet it 
 supports only two daily papers, both of which have 
 but a limited circulation. The reason why the South 
 supports so few journals in comparison to the Korth 
 and the Northwest, is that there the laboring class are 
 prohibited by law from learning to read. The labor- 
 ers are Africans. Yet, in spite of the law, great 
 numbers of the city slaves can read fluently and well, 
 and many of them have even acquired a rudimental 
 knowledge of arithmetic. But — blazon it to the 
 shame, and to shame the South — the knowledge thus 
 acquired has been stolen or snatched from spare 
 seconds of leisure, in spite of their owners* wishes 
 and watchfulness. 
 
 "You can read — can you not?" I asked of an 
 intelligent slave, whose acquaintance I made in 
 Augusta. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he. 
 
 •' Write, too ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Let me see you write a^«55." 
 
 He wrote one in a legible hand. The words were 
 correctly spelled. 
 
 ici 
 
162 THE EOV^ING EDITOR 
 
 "How did you learn to write?" I asked. "Did 
 tlie boss allow you to learn ?" 
 
 " 'No, sir^^ returned the slave. " There 's no bosses 
 would 'low their niggers to read if they could help 
 themselves. My missus got hold of my spellin' 
 books thrice and burned them." 
 
 " You taught yourself?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " How did you learn the alphabet ?" 
 
 " Well, sir," he replied, " out in county, near 
 
 where the boss's plantation is, there 's a schoolhouse. 
 The well is close by, and when I used to go for water 
 I got the boys to teach me a letter at a time. I used 
 to give them nuts and things to teach me. Then, 
 
 after that, when I come to 'Gusta, " (he 
 
 named a young white mechanic), "him that came 
 from ]^ew Jersey, ga'en me a lesson in writing once 
 in a while, and I learned that-a-way." 
 
 " You married ?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I 's got a wife and three children." 
 
 " Where is she ?" I rejoined. 
 
 " Out in county." 
 
 " Is she a slave ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir ; she lives with her boss out there." 
 
 " How often do you see her ?" 
 
 " 'Bout once every two or three months." 
 
 Great domestic institution that ! 
 
 I have met several slaves in the course of my 
 journeyings who had taught themselves to read 
 and write, with as little instruction as the negro 
 mentioned in the preceding conversation. I never 
 yet met a slave who was not anxious to acquire the 
 forbidden knowledge. 
 
IN GEORGIA. 163 
 
 HELPLESSNESS AT TABLE. 
 
 Helplessness is as fully developed at Soiitliern 
 public tables as " sliiftlessness " is in the Southern 
 households, according to the statement of Miss 
 Ophelia. " Every one for himself, heaven for us all, 
 and slops for the hindermost," is the principle that 
 underlies the system of dining at many of the 
 Northern, and at every Western hotel. At the 
 South, on the contrary, it is easy to see that an oppo- 
 site theory prevails : " Nobody for anybody, and the 
 nigger for us all!" is evidently their fundamental 
 maxim. I have seen a debilitated Southerner call a 
 negro from the opposite side of the table, to hand 
 him a dish that he could easily have reached without 
 unbending his elbow ! 
 
 "Would you like to be free?" I inquired of a 
 colored girl at the hotel. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I would indeed," she said briskly ; " and 
 I would like to know who would n't." 
 
 " How much do you get ?" 
 
 " I do n't get a cent " (she was hired out) ; " my 
 mistress takes every red." 
 
 " Do n't the landlord allow you something ?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Do you never have money, then ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sometimes." 
 
 " Where do you get it ?" 
 
 " Gentlemen here sometimes gives me a dollar," 
 she said, laughing and looking boldly at me. 
 
 " Do you know any persons of color who would 
 rather be slaves than free V 
 
164: THE EOVmG EDITOR 
 
 " ISTo, sir, I do n't know any one." 
 
 " If the colored people were free," I asked, " do 
 you think they would work as hard as they do now ? 
 I mean the colored people of the city ?" 
 
 " I guess most of them would work harder," she 
 replied ; " 'cause, you see, they could live better, 
 and dress and buy things with the money they has to 
 give to the white folks now. I know I would work 
 hard, and make lots of money if I was free. There's 
 some that would n't work so hard though ; they 
 would buy liquor and loaf about — the same as the 
 white folks /" 
 
 WHY SLAVES STEAL. 
 
 I have very often heard the negroes spoken of 
 harshly in consequence of their thievish habits. In 
 walking in the vicinity of Augusta one day, I came 
 up to a negro, who w^as carrying a bag of provisions 
 from town to his master's plantation. "We talked 
 about the patriarchal institution. He said that plan- 
 tation slaves in this vicinity generally received one 
 peck of meal, and from one to two and a half pounds 
 of pork a week. He knew one planter who gave a 
 very " short " allowance of meat. 
 
 " So, you see, mass'r, his slaves steal wdiatever 
 dey kin lay their hands on. He 's constant whippin' 
 'em ; but dey does n't stop it. My boss gives us two 
 pounds and a half of pork a week, and we never 
 takes anyt'ing. We '5 above it^"^ he added proudly. 
 
 Pity that the slaveholders had not as high a spirit. 
 Pity that they should condescend to steal the negro's 
 wages : pity that they cannot say of such disreput- 
 able theft—" We's alove it P' 
 
 " Are you a married man ?" 
 
IN GEORGIA. 165 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Were you married by a minister ?" 
 
 "No, sir; I was married hj de UanheV^ 
 
 " How 's that V 
 
 " Wall, mass'r," he said, " we come togeders into 
 de same cabin, an' she brings her blanket and lays 
 it down beside mine, and we gets married dat-a- 
 way!" 
 
 " Do ministers never marry you ?" 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, sometimes ; but not of 'en. Mass'r, 
 has you got a chaw of 'bacca?" 
 
 I never yet gave a chaw of 'bacca without accom- 
 jDanying it with a revolutionary truth. John Bunyan, 
 I remember, gave a text with his alms. 
 
 THE FUGITIVE SLAVE ACT. 
 
 The South has proclaimed the right of any l^orth- 
 ern State to pass a Personal Liberty Law — to annul 
 the Fugitive Slave Act ! 
 
 In the Eesolutions of '98, and in 1820, Yirginia 
 proclaimed that " Each State has the right to con- 
 strue the federal compact for itself." If, therefore, a 
 Northern State believes that the Constitution does 
 not warrant a fugitive slave act, of course it has the 
 right, and it is its duty, to protect the panting fugi- 
 tive by a Personal Liberty Law ! 
 
 So, too, South Carolina. In 1830 she said : 
 
 "Tlie government created by the Constitutional 
 compact was not made the exclusive and final judge 
 of the extent of the powers delegated to itself; but, 
 as in all other cases of compact between parties, 
 having no common judge, each party has an equal 
 right to judge for itself, as well of infractions as of 
 the mode and measure of redress. Whenever any 
 
16(3 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 State^ wMgK is suffering under this oj)j>ression^ shall 
 lose all reasonable hojpe of redress from the wisdom 
 and justice of the Federal Government^ it will he its 
 right and duty to interpose^ in its sovereign cajmcity, 
 to arrest the progress of the evil^ 
 
 During John Adams's administration, Virginia, 
 tlirongli her " medium," Mr. Madison, nsed equally 
 emphatic language : 
 
 " In case of a- deliberate, palpable, and dangerous 
 exercise of other powers not granted by the said 
 compact, the States who are parties thereto have the 
 right, and are in duty bound to interj)ose for arrest- 
 ing the progress of the evil, and for maintaining 
 within their respective limits the authorities, rights 
 and liberties appertaining to them." 
 
 Kentucky indorsed this doctrine through the pen 
 of Thomas JeiFerson : 
 
 '' The several States," so the passage reads, '' who 
 formed the instrument being sovereign and indepen- 
 dent, have the unquestionable right to judge of the 
 infraction, and a nullification, by those sovereignties, 
 of all unauthorized acts done under color of that in- 
 strument is the rightful remedy." 
 
 As late as 1825, Mr. Jefferson adhered to this doc- 
 trine. See his letter to William B. Giles, dated 
 December, 1825. 
 
 The Southern QuarteTly Beview^ the chief organ 
 of the slave power, has repeatedly promulgated and 
 defended this doctrine. It is from that periodical — 
 June No. for 1 845 — that these extracts are selected. 
 Of course it was not the fugitive slave law that called 
 forth these opinions ; but as what is sauce for the 
 tariff must equally be sauce for freedom, it cannot 
 complain of my use of its argument. 
 
IN GEOKGIA. 167 
 
 Freemen of the Kortli ! unfurl the Southern flag 
 of Nullification ! Resist the Fugitive Slave Law ! 
 *' Better far," as South Carolina once humorously 
 said of the Southern slave region, " better far that 
 the territories of the States be the cemetery of free- 
 men than the habitation of slaves !" 
 
 True ! — very true ! oh, South Carolina ! Soon 
 may the negroes utter and carry out the doctrine ! 
 
 THE DEED SCOTT DECISION. 
 
 The same number of the Quarterly to which I have 
 alluded, contains a constitutional opinion, which, in 
 view of the Dred Scott decision, is worthy of being 
 written in letters of gold in the legislative halls of 
 every free Northern State. Here it is • 
 
 " An itnconstitutional decision of a jtf^dge is no 
 authority I and even if confirmed hy the highest 
 judiciary in the land^ namely^ the Sujpreme Court of 
 the United States^ it would still he no authority : no 
 laio which any one of the States would he hound to 
 recognize. An unconstitiotional law is no law — it is 
 NULL AND VOID — and the same is true of a judge^s 
 decision given against the sujpreme lawP 
 
 Can any good come out of Nazareth ? Undoubt- 
 edly ! There is a gospel of freedom in that one 
 Southern word — nullification ! 
 
 IS SLAVERY A LOCAL INSTITUTION. 
 
 It docs not suit the South now to admit that sla- 
 very is a local institution. It is national, and a bless- 
 ing now, and claims the protection of national insti- 
 tutions. It may be well, therefore, to remind the 
 So.uth of her old opinions. Head what Governor 
 Wilson said in his message to the South Carolina 
 
1G8 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 legislature — opinions which were enthusiastically 
 indorsed bj the politicians and the press of the 
 State. It was during the days of Judge Hoare's 
 mission : 
 
 " There should be a spirit of concert and of action 
 among the slaveholding States, and a determined re- 
 sistance to any violation of their local institutions. 
 The crisis seems to have arrived when we are called 
 upon to protect ourselves. The President of the 
 United States, and his law adviser, so far from re- 
 sisting the efforts of foreign ministry, appear to be 
 disposed, by an argument drawn from the over- 
 whelming powers of the General Government, to 
 make us the passive instruments of a policy at war 
 not only with our interests, but destructive also of 
 our national existence. The evils of slavery have 
 been visited upon us by the cupidity of those who 
 are now the champions of universal emancipation. 
 To resist, at the threshold, every invasion of our 
 domestic tranquillity and to preserve our independ- 
 ence as a State, is strongly recommended ; and if an 
 appeal to the first principles of the right of self, 
 government is disregarded, and reasons be success- 
 fully combated by sophistry and error, there would 
 be more glory in forming a rampart with our bodies 
 on the confines of our territories, than to be the vic- 
 tims of a successful rebellion, or the slaves of a great 
 consolidated government !" 
 
 Undoubtedly ! Let the l^orth apply this doctrine 
 to freedom, and thus preserve its local institutions 
 inviolate. Truly, in such a case, 
 
 " There would be more glory in forming a ram- 
 part," etc. — ! — 
 
IN GEORGIA. 1G9 
 
 FORWAED. 
 
 From the city of Augusta, I partly walked and 
 partly rode to the town of Atlanta. I found the 
 slaves in Georgia passively discontented. Tliey did 
 not hope. Hope is a white there. They were not 
 morose. They wore their manacles without a curse 
 and without an aspiration. A sad, very sad condi- 
 tion of mind ! 
 
 Atlanta is a straggling business place, of about 
 nine thousand inhabitants. I was there, I think, on 
 l!^ew Year's Day, 1855. Atlanta has no beauty that 
 we should desire it as a residence. It feebly supports 
 two little daily papers, and two weekly journals — a 
 medical and a theological organ. In the Southern 
 States the newspaper press is neither so numerous, 
 influential, nor respected, as in the northern section 
 of the Union. It is gagged ; the editor is merely the 
 planter's oracle ; and hence, being a serf, it com- 
 mands no respect. 
 
 I heard a good story of Young America at Atlanta. 
 It shows what manner of individual that young gen- 
 tleman is. I believe I have forgotten to state that I 
 was credibly informed that boys of from twelve to 
 sixteen years of age frequently wear bowie knives 
 and pistols in the southern part of Georgia. 
 
 One day, at Atlanta, a peanut and candy-selling 
 urchin, at the railroad station, was rudely pushed oiT 
 the platform of the train by one of the conductors. 
 " He was so mad," they said, " that he weighed a ton." 
 He swore revenge. His heaving breast, contracted 
 brow, compressed lips, flashing eyes — and, above all, 
 his half-muttered " By golly ! if I don't make you 
 
 8 
 
170 THE EOYIXG EDITOK. 
 
 pay for that, tlien I 'm inistakcn — there 
 
 these outward signs foretold that a dreadful retribu- 
 
 tion awaited the devoted conductor of the freight 
 train; for he w^as a full-blooded Young American, 
 was this candy-selling urchin, and when he swore it 
 was the sign that there " was suthin' orful a-comin'." 
 
 He sold out his stock that day with unusual ra- 
 j^idity, for he sold it at half price, and was diligent 
 at his business." He raised twenty-five cents and 
 bought a piece of fat pork. 
 
 The " grade " at Atlanta is very steep ; and heavy 
 freight trains, when going at full speed, seldom ex- 
 ceed the rate of three miles an hour until they reach 
 a considerable distance from the city. 
 
 Young America attached a piece of string to the 
 pork, and went down with another boy to the j)lace 
 where the grade is steepest. 
 
 " 'Now, look 'ye here," said the candy seller to his 
 comrade, as he placed the fat pork on the rail, "you 
 take hold of that string and j)ull me along !" 
 
 He squatted down on the pork and was trailed up 
 and down both rails for half an hour or more by his 
 willing and laughing comrade. The rail, of course, 
 was rather greasy. The freight train came up. Puff- 
 uff-uff ! Young America screamed with delight. It 
 was literally as he said, " No go, nohow !" 
 
 For two days the engine vigorously puffed from 
 morning to night in a vain attempt at progress. The 
 conductor was finally compelled to call in the aid of 
 another engine. 
 
 Thus coneludeth the instructive history of the 
 Peanut Seller's Triumj)h ; or. Young America's 
 Revenge. 
 
XI. 
 
 ALABAMA. 
 
 I WALKED tlie entire distance from Atlanta, Georgia, 
 to Montgomery, Alabama. As I intend to revisit 
 that country at the earliest opj^ortnnity, I will not 
 here narrate my adyentnres on this jonrney. They 
 would probably discover me — not my mere name, 
 but personality. That I desire to avoid. Alabama, 
 as the reader most probably is aware, is preeminently 
 the Assassin State ; for it has still on the pages of its 
 statute book a law authorizing the payment of $5,000 
 for the head of Mr. Garrison, dead or alive. 
 
 The results of my journey are thus recorded in a 
 letter from Montgomery : 
 
 CONTENTMENT OF SLAVES IN ALABAMA. 
 
 I have spoken with Imndrcds of slaves in Alabama, 
 but never yet met one contented with his position 
 under the " peculiar " constitutions of the South. But 
 neitlier have I met with many slaves who are actively 
 discontented with involuntary servitude. Their dis- 
 content is passive only. They neither hope, nor 
 grumble, nor threaten. I never advised a single 
 skive either in Georgia or Alabama to run away. It 
 is too great a responsibility to incur. The distance 
 is too far ; the op23ortunities and the chances of es- 
 
 171 
 
172 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 cape too few. The slaves, 1 found, regard themselves 
 as the victims of a system of injustice from which 
 the only earthly hope of escape is — the gram I 
 
 KAILEOAD HANDS. 
 
 The shareholders of the railroad from West Point, 
 Georgia, to Montgomery, Alabama, own all the slaves 
 who are employed in grading, pumping, wood cutting, 
 engine firing, and in other necessary labors along the 
 line. These men are the most favored sons of Africa 
 emjployed in the country^ in the States of Alabama or 
 Georgia. They are hard worked from sun to sun, 
 and from Christmas to Christmas, but they are well 
 fed and clothed, and comfortably lodged — comfort- 
 ably, that is, for negro slaves. 
 
 THEIE ALLOWANCE. 
 
 They receive five pounds of pork, a pint of molasses, 
 and one peck of meal each per w^eek ; three suits of 
 clothes, a blanket and a hat a year. But they have 
 no wives. They are chiefly by birth Virginians, and 
 Avcre nearly all bought in the Old Dominion eleven 
 years ago. The majority that I spoke with were 
 married men and fathers at the time of the purchase ; 
 but, as the railroad company had no need of female 
 servants, their "Domestic Institutions" were broken 
 up, and— wifeless and childless — the poor "fellow^s" 
 (as they are called), w^ere transported south, and con- 
 demned for life to Alabama celibacy and adultery. 
 Of course, lie w^ho, amid the lightnings of Mount 
 Sinai, uttered the command, " Thou shalt not commit 
 adultery," was the founder of the system of slavery 
 in America, which breeds such crimes, and many 
 otJiers of the same character, but far more odious in 
 
IN ALABAMA. 173 
 
 tlieir nature ! Of course ? Do n't the Soutliern clergy 
 and the Rev. South-Sicle Adams, of Instantaneous 
 Conversion and Instantaneous Kendition notoriety, 
 announce the fact ? And do n't they know ? 
 
 MAEKIAGE AND SLAVERY. 
 
 Several of these hands, as they frankly owned, 
 have cohabited with plantation slaves since their 
 arrival in Alabama. All of them, of course, resem- 
 ble Napoleon in one respect — they are "no Capu- 
 chins." One of them — a bachelor wdien sold, and 
 who had been clerically married here — remarked 
 to me : 
 
 " Yes, mass'r, I 'se been married ; but it 's no satis- 
 faction for a man in this country." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " 'Cause, mass'r," he replied, "you see white folks 
 here do n't know nothin' 'bout farmin'. Dey buy a 
 place and use it up in two or tree years, and den 
 dey go away agin. So we 's never sartin of our girls 
 'bove a year or two." 
 
 THE RICH SLAVE. 
 
 When about fifty miles distant from Montgomery, 
 I saw a young man of color, well dressed — rather a 
 dandy, in fact — walking along the road in company 
 with a country-looking slave, near to the railroad 
 depot. I overtook him and soon began to inquire 
 into his history. He spoke our language as cor- 
 rectly as any educated man does in ordinary con- 
 versation. He was a manly looking person and very 
 intelligent. 
 
 He was a slave ; by trade a carpenter. lie hired 
 his own time — that is to say, he paid his owner $300 
 
174 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 ammally as body rent, boarded and clothed himself, 
 and retained whatever money he made after defray- 
 ing these expenses. He was twenty-eight years of 
 age. Last year he saved §100. Altogether, since 
 he first cherished a hope of purchasing liis freedom, 
 he had succeeded in saving §930. 
 
 " How much does your boss ask for you ?" 
 
 '' He said he would not sell me for less than §2,500. 
 He was offered §!i,000 cash down. I hope to buy 
 myself for less. I was raised with him from a child, 
 and I expect that he will let me buy my freedom for 
 §2,400 on that account." 
 
 " §2,400 !" I exclaimed, " and you have only got 
 §900 yet. "Why it will take you fourteen years to 
 buy yourself at that rate." 
 
 " I know that, sir," he replied, " but I can 't help 
 myself; yoti see he has the advantage of m^." 
 
 " Yes," I returned, *' but you have got §930 the 
 advantage of him. Once on the road, you could 
 travel rapidly to the North, as you could easily pay 
 all your expenses, and would not have to run the 
 ordinary risks of a runaway. If I was in your place," 
 I added, " I would see your boss in a hotter climate 
 than this, before I would pay him the first red cent. 
 Can 't you get any one to write yon your free 
 papers ?" 
 
 " That's what I want, sir," he said — his eyes flashed 
 as he looked on me and said it — "but I'm afraid 
 to ask ; I dare not trust any of the white men I 
 know." 
 
 " I '11 write them," I replied, " if you will get me 
 free papers to copy from. I don 't know how free 
 papers are worded ; but if you will show tliem to me, 
 I will willingly make out yours." 
 
IN ALABAMA. 175 
 
 He joyfully promised to fiinnsli me with tlie 
 " copy " desired, uiid appointed a place of meeting 
 in Montgomery. 
 
 Alas for the poor fellow ! Either I mistook the 
 place of rendezvous, or, fearing betrayal, he was 
 afraid to meet me. 
 
 OTHER SLAVES AND SLAVE SALES. 
 
 My washerwoman in Montgomery hired her own 
 time also. She paid her owner §200 a year ; lived 
 in a house rented by lierself ; was entirely self-sup- 
 ported in every respect. 
 
 Another man I spoke with — a plasterer — paid his 
 owner §600 annually. He was a very intelligent 
 and skillful mechanic. He would have sold for 
 §4,000. 
 
 These persons never see their owners, excepting 
 only when they pay their body-rent. Of course, this 
 demonstrates that the negroes need a master to take 
 care of them. And does it not prove, too, that 
 American slavery is a jpatriarchal institution, with a 
 veno-eance and a half ? 
 
 The first things that I saw on entering Montgomery 
 were three large posters, whose captions read respec- 
 tively thus : 
 
 " E'egroes at auction !" 
 
 " Negroes at auction !" 
 
 " Negroes for sale !" 
 
 Three distinct sales of immortal souls within a few 
 days were thus unblushingly announced. I saw two 
 of them. In one instance, the auctioneer turned, as 
 coolly as an iceberg incarnate, from the last of the 
 negroes whom he sold, to a mule with a bnggy and 
 harness. Hardly had the word — " Gone !" escaped 
 
176 THE ROVING EDITOE. 
 
 his lips, as he finished the sale of the " fellow," than 
 he began : 
 
 " The next lot that I shall ofier yon, gentlemen, is 
 a mnle with a bnggy and harness. This lot," etc. 
 
 The negroes brought very high prices. It is inter- 
 esting to observe how the enlargement of commercial 
 relations makes the interest of one nation the interest 
 of every one with Avhicli it has extended intercourse. 
 The Eastern war, which England was waging at the 
 time, was the immediate cause of these inhuman 
 auctions. Cotton was selling at so very reduced a 
 figure, that many of the planters were compelled to 
 dispose of a portion of their human live stock, in 
 order to provide subsistence for the others. And this, 
 you know, is one of the beauties of this beautiful 
 institution. 
 
 A GODLY CITY. 
 
 Montgomery is a very handsome city. It supports 
 two churches, one weekly (temperance), one tri- 
 weekly, and two daily papers. Population, at that 
 time, nearly nine thousand. It is the capital of 
 Alabama. 
 
 Montgomery, albeit, is a very godly city. It is 
 true that its citizens sell human beings on week days; 
 but then — and let it be remembered to its lasting 
 honor — it imposes a fine of thirteen dollars for every 
 separate ofience and weed, on any and every im- 
 righteous dealer who sells a cigar on Sunday ! 
 
 Let us smoke ! 
 
XII. 
 
 ABOUT SOUTIIEKN WOMEN AND NORTHEEN TEAVELLEES 
 CHIEFLY. 
 
 I REMAINED in Montgomery two or three weeks ; 
 sailed down the romantic AL^bama to Mobile ; in 
 that place rambled for twenty-four hours ; and then 
 entered the steamer for the city of New Orleans. 
 
 I passed the winter there. For reasons that I have 
 already stated, I did not speak with the slaves on the 
 subject of bondage during the earlier part of my 
 sojourn ; and, as I was obliged to leave the city in a 
 hurry — to escajDC the entangling endearments of the 
 cholera, which already had its hands in my hair 
 before I could reach the Mississippi Eiver — I never 
 had an opportunity of fully ascertaining their true 
 sentiments and condition. I saw several slave 
 sales; but they did not differ from similar scenes 
 in Ilichmond. 
 
 THE IIIGHEE LAW AND OLD ABRAHAM. 
 
 Let me recall one incident. In the courts of 'Now 
 Orleans there is an old, stout, fair-complexioned, grey- 
 haired lawyer, of Dutch build and with a Dutch 
 cognomen. I saw a pamphlet one day — his address 
 to a college of young lawyers — opened it, and read 
 a most emphatic denunciation of the doctrine of a 
 Higher Law. 
 
 8* 177 
 
178 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 One day I visited tlie prisons of New Orleans. At 
 one of them — a mere lock-np, if I remember riglitly, 
 for I have forgotten its name and exact location — 
 the jailer, or an officer in the room where the records 
 are kept, told me, in the course of a conversation, 
 that there was '' an old nigger inside," whose case, 
 as he pathetically said in his rough w^ay, was "rather 
 too d — d bad." I asked to be permitted to see him. 
 I was conducted up dark and filthy stairs, through a 
 dark and dirty passage, and accompanied to the 
 door of a perfectly dark cell — ^liaving an iron grating 
 in its door. 
 
 " There," said the officer ; " you call him ; he 's in 
 there. I '11 be back in a few minutes." 
 
 I went up to the grating and looked in. The odor 
 of the cell was revolting. The stench could not have 
 been more sickening if the foul contents of a privy 
 had been emptied there. I drew back in disgust. 
 
 Again I approached the door, and, seeing no one, 
 called aloud to the invisible inmate of the cell. 
 
 A very old negro came up to the door and put his 
 face against the grating. His wool was silvery ; his 
 face was deeply furrowed ; his eyes were filmy with 
 disease and age. I never before saw so very frail 
 and venerable a negro. 
 
 He told me his story. He had belonged to the 
 lawyer who denounced the doctrine of a Higher 
 Law; had been sold, with all the other skives on his 
 country estate, or on one of his plantations ; had 
 been purchased by a person who had hired him out 
 to the Mississippi steamers as a deck hand ; and then 
 was put up, at a public auction, with some other 
 negroes, who comprised one "lot." He was very 
 sick and could not work. His new purchaser at first 
 
IN NEW ORLEANS. 179 
 
 refused to take liim ; and, when lie again presented 
 himself, told him to go back to the auctioneer. 
 He returned. The agent of the great body-selling 
 firm there turned him with curses out of the ofiice, 
 and compelled him to cany his little baggage along 
 with him. He threatened to cut his bowels out if 
 he dared to return. 
 
 Alone — sick — a member of an outcast race — with- 
 out money — without family — and without a home in 
 his tottering old age ! Where could the w^retched 
 invalid go ? 
 
 He applied to the police. They took him to the 
 jail and confined him in that putrid cell ! 
 
 " How long, oh Lord ! how long ?" 
 
 Here my talks with the slaves on my third trip 
 end. From New Orleans I sailed to St. Louis, and 
 from thence to Kansas, where I lived, wdth brief in- 
 tervals, for three years, during the " civil wars " and 
 the troubles wdiich so long distracted that unhappy 
 Territory. 
 
 ABOUT NOETUEEN TRAVELLEKS. I 
 
 With two additional extracts from my Letters, I 
 will close this record. 
 
 Why is it (it has been asked) that ^N'orthern travel- 
 lers so frequently return from the South with pro- 
 slavery ideas ? 
 
 "Their conversion," I wrote, " has already become 
 an argument in favor of slavery. A Yankee rene- 
 gade, for example, whom I met in South Carolina, 
 and who told me that he had once been an ultra 
 abolitionist — althougli he was now a pro-slavery poli- 
 tician — after failing to convince me of the beauty or 
 divine origin of slavery, or satisfactorily reply to 
 
180 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 my anti-slavery arguments, abruptly concluded our 
 conversation in these words : 
 
 " ' "VYell, you '11 not hold these opinions long — at 
 least, if you stay in the South. JSTo IsTortherner does. 
 If the niggers were as badly treated as the abolition- 
 ists say they are — or if slavery were as diabolical an 
 institution as they try to make out — what '5 the reason 
 that all the N^ortherners who come South with your 
 notions^ go lack with different opinions ? Tliere 's 
 Dr. Cox, for instance." 
 
 "I reply: 
 
 "I. As to the treatment of the negro : it is of no 
 sort of consequence, in my mind, whether the negro 
 is treated ill or well, and no one, I think, should 
 consider it for a moment in determining the right or 
 wrong of American slavery. I deny the right of 
 property in man. Property in man is robbery of 
 man. Tlie best of the slaveholders are cowardly 
 thieves. Tliey take advantage of a race who are 
 down^ friendless, inferior ! There would be some 
 nobility in enslaving an equal. There is a sort of 
 virtue in extorting money from a powerful and popu- 
 lar enemy. But how unutterably contemptible is it 
 to disarm, to disperse, and then to rob a race of un- 
 fortunate captives ! If the Southern negroes had 
 any chance of successfully asserting their rights by 
 arms, I would not feel a single throb of sympathy for 
 them. But they are carefully prevented from form- 
 ing coalitions — the laws forbid them from assembling 
 anywhere in numbers, unless white witnesses are 
 present — they are not allowed to purchase or to 
 carry arms — they are kept everywhere and always 
 entirely at the mercy of the ruling race. Then they 
 are robbed of their wages — often of their wives and 
 
IN NEW ORLEANS. 181 
 
 cliildren also ! Chivalry, forsootli ! The only true 
 knights of the South are the runaway slaves ! 
 
 " II. The Northern travellers fail to ascertain the 
 true sentiments of the slaves, in consequence of re- 
 taining their prejudices of race. I have been told by 
 Xorthern ladies that, during their visits to the South, 
 they have sometimes asked the female slaves if they 
 would not like to be free, and were astonished at re- 
 ceiving a reply in the negative. I have sometimes 
 heard the same question asked of slaves, in order to 
 convince me of their contentment, and have heard it 
 answered as the Southron desired ; and yet, within a few 
 days, the same negroes have uttered in my presence 
 the saddest laments over their unfortunate condition. 
 Why ? Because I did not ask the negro as if I 
 honored him by condescending to hold a conversa- 
 tion with him. I did not speak in a careless or 
 patronizing tone. Tliis circumstance accounts for 
 the difference of statements made by the same person. 
 Topsy's remark about Miss 'Phelia's aversion to her 
 is a true touch of negro nature. I have already said 
 that the slaves often told me, at first, that they did 
 not care about freedom. I have spoken long and 
 confidentially with several hundreds of slaves in Vir- 
 ginia, the Carolinas, Georgia, and Alabama, and 
 never yet have I met with one — unless the Wilming- 
 ton negro be excepted — who did not finally confess 
 that he was longing for liberty. But I spoke to them 
 as to men — not as to slaves. 
 
 "III. Northerners generally confine themselves to 
 cities, and judge of the condition of country slaves 
 from the condition of the bondmen of the town. This 
 is a great error, and the source of unnumbered errors. 
 Pliuitation slaves form the vast majority of our four 
 
182 THE liOVING EDITOR 
 
 millions of American chattels. Tliey are the most 
 degraded class of them. They either work under 
 their ' boss ' or an overseer, or are hired out for a 
 stipulated sum per annum. The tar, pitch, and tur- 
 pentine planters, or rather plantation lease-holders, 
 of ITorth Carolina, are principally supplied with their 
 hands from Virginia. These masters in the Old Do- 
 minion often own no land, but live by hiring out 
 their human stock from year to year. (I once got 
 myself into hot water by calling a lady who lived on 
 the hire-money of her slaves, a kept woman — kept 
 by negroes ! The epithet, although coarse, was de- 
 served.) These negroes return regularly at Christmas 
 to see their wives and little ones — if not sold — and to 
 be hired out again. 
 
 ''Plantation slaves^ when working under their own- 
 ers, are more kindly treated, on an average, than 
 when governed by an overseer. Slaves have told me 
 so. Cotton, tobacco, rice, and sugar plantation slaves 
 are worked from sun to sun. Their food and lodg- 
 ing varies very much. They are not so well fed as, 
 they could not be worse lodged than, the turpen- 
 tine plantation and railroad hands, but in one respect 
 their condition is vastly preferable. They have wives 
 on these old plantations; while, from Christmas to 
 Christmas, many of the slaves in the pineries and on 
 the railroads of J^ortli Carolina never see theirs. 
 
 " Country slaves^ as a class, very seldom, indeed, 
 have any money. I once met a railroad hand who 
 had saved $11 ; but he was regarded as the Eoths- 
 child of the gang. 
 
 '' City slaves, on the contrary, are generally well 
 clacl. They get enough to eat ; tliey often save 
 money. I have met slaves — remember, city slaves — 
 
IN NEW ORLEANS. 183 
 
 ^\\\o owned real estate and had cash in hand. They 
 held the property under the name of another person. 
 In the cities, the shives — excepting the houseliold 
 slaves— are generally allowed to 'hire their oivn 
 time,' as, with hidden sarcasm, the negroes term it : 
 that is to say, they give their master a certain sum 
 per month ; and all that they make over that amount 
 they retain. As negroes are usually a temperate 
 and economical class of persons, the Southern city 
 slaves sometimes save money enough to purchase 
 their freedom. 
 
 " "What, therefore, may be true of city slaves is 
 no indication of the condition of rural bondmen. 
 This fact, while it does not hide the cold-heartedness 
 of such divines as South-Side Adams, vindicates their 
 character and sacred office from the less odious of- 
 fence of deliberate lying. 
 
 "lY. Northerners, also, are gradually and insen- 
 sibly influenced by the continual repetition of pro- 
 slavery arguments ; the more especially as they never 
 liear, excepting in partisan news summaries, the 
 counter arguments of the anti-slavery party. Beattie, 
 in his book on the formation of opinions, ably ana- 
 lyzes tliis tendency of the human mind. What we 
 hear often, we at length begin to believe. In the 
 Soutli they hear only one side of the great slavery 
 controversy, and are gradually, and without know- 
 ing it, brouglit over to the Satanic ranks of the 
 oj^pressor." 
 
 WHY THE SOUTUEEN LADIES ARE PRO-SLAVERY. 
 
 The Southern ladies, a-s a class, are opposed to 
 emancipation. They are reared under the shadow 
 of the peculiar institution ; in their nurseries and 
 
184 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 their parlors, by tlieir preachers, orators and editors, 
 they hear it incessantly praised and defended. Their 
 conscience, thus early perverted, is never afterwards 
 appealed to. They seldom see its most obnoxious 
 features ; never attend auctions ; never witness 
 '^examinations;" seldom, if ever, see the negroes 
 lashed. They do not know negro slavery as it is. 
 They do not know, I think, that there is probably 
 not one boy in a hundred, educated in a slave society, 
 who is ignorant (in the ante-diluvian sense) at the 
 age of fourteen. Yet, it is nevertheless true. They 
 do not know that the inter-State trade in slaves is a 
 gigantic commerce. Thus, for example, Mrs. Tyler, 
 of Eichmond, in her letter to the Duchess of Suther- 
 land, said that the slaves are very seldom separated 
 from their families ! Yet, statistics prove that twenty- 
 five thousand slaves are annually sold from the 
 Northern slave-breeding to the Southern slave- 
 needing States. And I know, also, that I have seen 
 families separated and sold in Eichmond ; and I 
 know still farther, that I have spoken to upwards of 
 five hundred slaves in the Carolinas alone who were 
 sold, in Yirginia, from their wives and children. 
 
 Ladies generally see only the South-Side Yiew of 
 slavery. Yet Mrs. Douglas, of Norfolk — a comely 
 w^ornan — ^was confined in a Yirginia penitentiary 
 for the crime of teaching free colored children to 
 read. If the woman of the South knew slavery as 
 it is, she would not stand . alone in her memorable 
 protest against it. For young unmarried men are 
 not the only sinners that slaver}: creates in the South- 
 ern States. A majority, I believe, of the married 
 men in South Carolina support colored mistresses 
 also. 
 
A POEM BY NOETH. 185 
 
 A FUGITIVE POEM. 
 
 I wisli to conclude tins record of my second trip 
 with an anti-slavery poem, written by my noble and 
 gifted friend, William Kortli, during tlie contest on 
 the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, at the time 
 when John Mitchel, of unhappy memory, gave utter- 
 ance to his longings for a '^ plantation in Alabama, 
 well stocked with fine fat negroes." It is indelibly 
 associated in my memory with the recollections of 
 my long journey; for often, when alone, I repeated 
 it aloud in the pineries of ISTorth Carolina, and the 
 cotton and rice fields of Georgia and Alabama. It 
 is entitled — 
 
 NEBRASKA. 
 
 There's a watchword, weak and timid, 
 Watchword which the gods despise, 
 Which in dust the poet tramples. 
 And that word is — Compromise ! 
 Word of spirits, feeble, fallen, 
 Creed of dollars and of cents. 
 Prayer to the Prince of Darkness, 
 From a craven army's tents. 
 
 Let an Irish renegado, 
 Born a slave of slavish race, 
 Bend before the Southern Baal, 
 In his mantle of disgrace : 
 Ue who turned his back on honor,* 
 Well may cringe to slavers grim. 
 Well riiay volunteer to rivet 
 Fetters on the negro's limb. 
 
 Alluding to Mitchel'a alleged breaking of his parole of lienor. 
 
186 THE KOVI.NG EDITOR. 
 
 But the poet has no pity 
 
 On the human beast of prey, 
 
 Freely speaks he, though the heavens 
 
 And the earth should pass away ; 
 
 Aye, though thrones and empires crumble, 
 
 IJaces perish in the strife, 
 
 Still he speaks the solemn warning- 
 
 Live for the eternal life. 
 
 Ye may talk, and print, and vainly 
 
 Rear a pyramid of lies. 
 
 Slavery is still a fiction, 
 
 Still his lord the slave denies ; 
 
 Still the mighty Institution 
 
 Is a long enduring crime : 
 
 God and devil, truth and falsehood, 
 
 Slave and freedom, never rhyme ! 
 
 Is the negro man or monkey ? 
 Has he reason — yea or no ? 
 Is the brutal Celtic peasant 
 Placed above him or below ? 
 Is intelligence the measure. 
 Or the* color of the skin ? 
 Is the slavery of white men 
 Russia's virtue or her sin ? 
 
 VI. 
 
 But I argue not ; I scorn to 
 Make a channel of my mouth. 
 For the simple facts that conscience 
 Proves to all from North to South ; 
 There is not a single slaver 
 In the land, that dares to say 
 That the mighty institution 
 Will not die and pass away. 
 
A POEM BY NORTH. 
 
 Til. 
 
 Let it vanish ! let it perish ! 
 Let the blot on Freedom's flag 
 Be torn from it, and rejected 
 Though it leave you but a rag ! 
 Let the prisoner and captive 
 Not be loosened on parole, 
 But released as the descendants 
 Of the sires your fathers stole. 
 
 Not as foe, as man and brother 
 To the South I say this word : 
 What is past is past — the future 
 Frowns upon the negro's lord ! 
 Give Nebraska, give the future 
 To a crime and to a lie ? 
 Rather leave the land a desert, 
 Rather battle till we die ! 
 
 Let the hearts of cowards wither^ 
 Let the pale intriguers flinch 
 From a visionary peril. 
 Say we — Not another inch ! 
 Not one forward step, oh blinded 
 Worshippers of slave-born gold ! 
 Let a swift and sure destruction 
 Blast the little that ye hold ! 
 
 Who are ye, vain legislators. 
 That dispose of man's domain? 
 Who are ye, thus arrogating 
 Over continents to reign? 
 Know a truth — too long forgotten — 
 Earth is man's, and thought is fate : 
 Pause ! ye reckless band of traitors 
 Ere ye sell mankind's estate ! 
 
 187 
 
188 THE KOVING EDITOR. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Compromises! Extraditions! 
 JBy the hope of life divine, 
 Rather would I howl with devils 
 Than such degradation sign ! 
 Aid in capturing a negro, 
 Flying from the slaver's land ? 
 Rather forge, or steal, or murder 
 With a pirate's lawless hand ! 
 
 Let the course of reparation 
 Flow as gently as ye will, 
 Let humanity and justice 
 Peacefully their ends fulfill ; 
 But, to slavery's extension. 
 Let one loathing voice outgo 
 From the heart of human nature. 
 
 No! — AN EVERLASTING No ! 
 
MY THIRD TRIP 
 
 LYNCHING AN ABOLITIONIST. 
 
 Befoee proceeding on my tliird trip to tlie sea- 
 board slave States, let me narrate one scene that I 
 witnessed in the Far West : 
 
 On the 18th of October, 1855, I was at Parkville, 
 Missouri. It is one of the little towns on the Mis- 
 souri River, and acquired some celebrity during the 
 troubles in Kansas. 
 
 It is built on rugged and very hilly ground, as 
 almost all the towns on this unstable river are. It 
 was founded by Colonel Park, a citizen of Illinois, 
 twenty years, or more, before my visit to it. A mild, 
 kind, hospitable, law-abiding man : one would natu- 
 rally think that he — the founder of the town, the 
 richest of its citizens, and a slaveholder, albeit, who 
 had never once uttered an abolition sentiment — 
 would not only have escaped the enmity, but even 
 the suspicion, of the border ruffians of the State. 
 But he did not escape. He owned the press and 
 office of the Parlcville Luminary^ a paper which 
 
 isa 
 
100 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 supj)orted tlie party, or tlie wing of the party, of 
 wliicli Benton was tlie peerless chief. In one num- 
 ber of the Luminary a j)aragraph appeared condemn- 
 ing the course of the invaders of Kansas. 
 
 Enough ! The press w^as destroyed and thrown 
 into the river by a mob of pro-slavery ruffians. 
 Col. Park also got notice to leave, and was compelled 
 to fly for his life. 
 
 I went over to Parkville from Kansas city, Mis- 
 souri, to attend to some business there. I had pre- 
 viously made the acquaintance of several of its ruf- 
 fian citizens. I rode into the town about one o'clock. 
 
 After stabling my horse, and getting dinner at the 
 hotel, I walked leisurely through the town. I saw 
 a crowd of about twenty men before the door of 
 " Col." Summers' office. The Colonel — everybody 
 in that region has a military title — is a justice of the 
 peace, and has never, I believe, been engaged in any 
 martial strife. I went over to the office. 
 
 " Hallo ! Mr. R.," said a voice from the crowd, 
 " here's an item for you. — Let 's liquor." 
 
 It was Mr. Stearns, the editor of the Southern 
 Democrat, the pro-slavery successor of the Parhville 
 Luminary. 
 
 After the usual salutations, he informed me that 
 an Englishman, named Joseph Atkinson, had been 
 arrested by his honor. Judge Lynch, charged with 
 the crime of attempting to abduct a negro girl, and 
 that the crowd were awaiting the arrival of a witness 
 before deciding how to punish the accused. 
 
 I looked into the office to see the doomed aboli- 
 tionist. 
 
 "It's the way of the world," I thought; but I 
 didn't speak my thought aloud ! "Here am I, whose 
 
IN MI8SOUi2r. 191 
 
 sins, in tlie ejes of Southrons — if tliey only knew it 
 — are as scarlet of the reddest sort ; free, a spectator, 
 nay, even honored by being specially invited to 
 drink by a band of ruffians, who, in a few minutes, 
 will tar and feather this man, guilty only of a single 
 and minor offence !" 
 
 I held my tongue; for, says not the sage that 
 though speech be silvern, silence — divine silence — 
 is golden ? 
 
 There were about fifteen j^ersons in the room, 
 which had the ordinary ai3pearance of an out-West 
 justice's office, with a green-covered table before the 
 magistrate's desk, a home-manufactured book-case, 
 with the usual limited number of sheep-bound volumes 
 on its shelves, forms around the sides close to the 
 walls, a few second-hand chairs here and there, a pail 
 of water in the corner, a bottle redolent of " old rye " 
 near his honor's seat, and dust, dirt and scraps of 
 papers everywhere about the floor. 
 
 I closely scrutinized the persons in the room, but 
 signally failed to recognize the j^risoner. 
 
 He was pointed out to me. He was sitting on a 
 low form, leaning slightly forward, his legs apart, 
 whirling his cap, which he held between his hands, 
 round and round in rapid revolution. He kept up, 
 at the same time, a very ene^'getic course of chewing 
 and expectoration. No one would have suspected 
 his critical situation from his demeanor or the expres- 
 sion of his face. I never saw a man more apparently 
 unconcerned. 
 
 He was a fair complcxioned, blue eyed, firmly 
 knit, rather stu])id looking man, about twenty-five 
 years of age. He was a ropemaker by trade, and 
 had worked near Parkville for five or six weeks i")ast. 
 
192 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 It appears that he tried to induce a negro girl, the 
 " property " of Widow Hoy, to go with him to St. 
 Louis, where he proposed that they should spend the 
 wdnter, and then go together to a Free State. This 
 programme shows how stupid he must have been, or 
 how totally ignorant of Southern institutions, and the 
 manner in which they are supported by their friends. 
 The girl agreed to go, but wished to take a colored 
 couple, friends of hers, along with them. He did 
 not seem at first to like the proposition, but finally 
 agreed to take them with him. The day of flight 
 was fixed. The colored trio's clothes, it is said, were 
 already packed up. They intended to have started 
 on Saturday, but the secret came to the knowledge 
 of a negro boy — another slave of Mrs. Hoy's, to 
 whom also the girl's married friends belonged — who 
 instantly divulged " the conspiracy " to his mistress. 
 Measures were taken, of course, promptly and efi'ec- 
 tually to prevent the exodus. A committee of inves- 
 tigation was appointed to watch the movements of ^^ 
 the ropemaker, and to procure evidence against him v 
 
 from the implicated negroes. 
 
 Atkinson's colored mistress and the married cou- 
 ple were privately whipped, and the punishment was 
 relentlessly protracted, until they openly confessed 
 all they knew. 
 
 Tlie committee of investigation — all men " of pro- 
 perty and standing " in the county — patrolled the 
 streets for two successive nights, w^atching the steps 
 of the girls and Atkinson. Has Freedom such de- 
 voted friends in the Free States ? 
 
 The Englishman was then arrested, and sternly 
 interrogated. He gave evasive and contradictory 
 versions of his connection w^ith the girl : A\'hich was 
 
IN MISSOURI. 193 
 
 criminal both in point of morals and in the Southern 
 social code. 
 
 He said enough, his self-constituted judges thought, 
 to criminate himself — and such extorted testimony, 
 however perverted, however contradictory, is as good 
 as gospel (and, indeed, a good deal better) in all 
 trials for offences against the darling institution of 
 the Southern States. 
 
 Thus the matter stood when I joined the crowd. 
 
 After a private conversation between the members 
 of the committee, the rabble entered the office, and 
 soon filled the forms and the vacant chairs. 
 
 KUFFIAN LYNCH LAW PLEAS. 
 
 Col. Summers opened the meeting, by alluding to 
 the circumstances that had called them together. 
 There was a kind of property in this community (he 
 said), guaranteed to us by the Constitution and the 
 laws, which must not be tampered with hy any one. 
 
 " Dammed if it must," whispered a hoarse, brutal 
 voice beside me. 
 
 " It was as much property to us," he continued, 
 warming with his glorious theme, " as much property 
 to us as so many dollars and cents — it was our dollars 
 and cents in fact — and so recognized by the statutes 
 of Missouri and the Constitution of the United States. 
 Evidence had been obtained against the prisoner," 
 he added, after this eloquent and learned exordium, 
 '''from negroes^ which agreed with his own statement 
 minutely enough to convince him" — the speaker — 
 " that Atkinson was guilty. What is to be done with 
 him, gentlemen ?" he asked, " shall we merely drive 
 him out of our city " — population 600 — " and thus 
 let him go unpunished ? I'm opposed to that course, 
 
 9 
 
194 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 gentlemen, for one," he said ; but with adroit non- 
 .committalism, he added, " I would like this meeting 
 to decide what to do with him." 
 
 Major Jesse Summers was next called on. A very 
 "solid" man is Major Jesse Summers. Weight, I 
 should judge, about ten tons avoirdupois! Eo mili- 
 tary rej)utation hath the fleshy Jessie ; never did he 
 head a bold brigade ; never did he drill a gallant 
 company ; but th^ rank and the title — or the title less 
 the rank — of a major, no less, hath the ponderous 
 Jesse Summers. ]^ot having resided very long 
 among them, he said, he had not w^ished to appear 
 prominently in this matter. A judicious man, you 
 see, is Major Jesse Summers. "But," he continued, 
 "as his opinion on this subject was expected, he 
 thought that if all the committee were satisfied that 
 the person arrested was guilty of this crime^ of which" 
 — said Jesse — " I have no doubt myself individually," 
 he, Jesse, was of opinion, " that they ought to give 
 him a coat of tar and feathers, and let him go." 
 
 Murmurs of applause greeted Jesse, as he resumed 
 his seat : which he received with a greasy smile. 
 
 Mr. Stearns — Jiis title I have forgotten — then called 
 on every one of the committee to express their 
 opinion of the prisoner's innocence or guilt. 
 
 Each of the committee, one by one, every one — 
 for no dodging is permitted when slavery's interests 
 are at stake — arose, and pronounced him, in their 
 opinion, guilty of the crime with which he stood 
 charged. 
 
 Guilty ! " Proclaim liberty throughout all the 
 land, to all the inhabitants thereof." We read that 
 God thus spoke. Did he order, then, the commission 
 of a crime ? ISTo doubt of it, the ruffians would insist ! 
 
IN MISSOURI. 195 
 
 "When the committee sat down, Mr. Steams again 
 rose. Stearns is a lawyer. This, he said, is an extra- 
 judicial case ! It is not provided for in the statute 
 book. It devolves on the meeting,. ^A^7'^(97'<?, to — 
 
 Set him free, if no law is violated ? ]^o. " To 
 saj," said Stearns, "what punishment shall be in- 
 flicted on the prisoner. The major had suggested 
 that he be tarred and feathered, and started out of 
 town. What had they to say to that ? He moved 
 that the j)risoner be so punished." 
 
 The motion was seconded, and put. 
 
 It was carried, of course, as a harder punishment 
 would as easily have been, if the major or any other 
 solid citizen had made the suggestion. 
 
 Mr. Stearns — " The meeting has decided that the 
 prisoner be tarred and feathered." 
 
 Mr. Hughes, a brutal ruffian, added — " And 
 lighted.^'' 
 
 Another hoarse voice exclaimed: "Let's hang 
 him ; it's too good for him." 
 
 [Docs the reader know what lighted means ? The 
 proposition was to set the tar on fire^ after it covered 
 the body of the prisoner. A mind that could con- 
 ceive so devilish a suggestion, is a fit and worthy 
 champion of slavery.] 
 
 "Hans: him !" shouted several voices. 
 
 Mr. Stearns interposed. " No, no, gentlemen !" 
 he said. "Tar and feathering is quite enough on 
 nigger evidenceP 
 
 Tliis adroit phrase satisfied nearly all, but several 
 still seemed disposed to maintain that negro evi- 
 dence, as against abolitionists, was as good as good 
 nee.d be. 
 
 Up jumped Capt. Wallace, a fierce, very vulgar- 
 
106 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 looking bully, witli a pistol stuck conspicuously in 
 liis belt. " I move," he shouted, " that he be given 
 fifty lashes." 
 
 Another fellow moved that it be a hundred lashes. 
 
 By the influence of Mr. Stearns, these motions were 
 defeated. 
 
 During all this discussion the j)risoner still chewed 
 his tobacco, and twirled his cap, as careless, appa- 
 rently, as if it was of no interest or consequence to 
 him. 
 
 He never spoke but once — when the sentence was 
 announced — and then he had better held his tonsrue. 
 
 " D — n me !" he said quietly, " if ever I have any- 
 tliing to do with a negro again !" 
 
 '' Better not!" was the captain's fierce suggestion. 
 
 An executive committee was appointed, and the 
 meeting adjourned. 
 
 THE LYNCniNa DONE. 
 
 Some of the committee went for tar, and some for 
 feathers, while the rest of them stood sentinels at the 
 door of the room. Tar enough was brought to have 
 bedaubed the entire population of Parkville, includ- 
 ing the women, the little children and the dogs; 
 feathers enough to have given the prisoner a dozen 
 warm coats, and left suflicient for a pair of winter 
 pantaloons. 
 
 "Now!" said Capt. Wallace to Atkinson, in a 
 savage tone, " now, stranger, to save trouble, ofi* with 
 your shirt !" 
 
 "With imperturbable coolness, and without opening 
 his lips, the prisoner dofi'ed his linen and fiannel. 
 As he wore neither vest nor coat, this ceremony was 
 speedily concluded. 
 
IN MISSOURI. 197 
 
 "He's obedient!" said one of tlie crowd; "it's 
 best for him !" 
 
 " He 's got off too d — d easy," said a second. 
 
 " That 's a fact," chimed a third. 
 
 By this time the prisoner was entirely naked, from 
 the loins upward. 
 
 " Come out here," said Captain "Wallace, " we 
 don't want to smear the floor with tar." 
 
 Silently and carelessly Atkinson follow^ed him. 
 
 A ruffian named Bird, and the wretch who pro- 
 posed to burn the prisoner — Mrds of a feather — then 
 cut two jDaddles, about a yard long (broad at one 
 end), and proceeded slowly, amid the laughter and 
 jests of the crowd, which Atkinson seemed neither 
 to see nor care for, to lay the tar on, at least 
 half an inch deep, from the crown of his head to his 
 waist ; over his arms, hands, cheeks, brow, hair, 
 armpits, ears, back, breast, and neck. As he was 
 besmearing Mr. Atkinson's cheeks, one of the opera- 
 tors, bedaubing his lips, jocularly observed, that he 
 was "touching up his w^hiskers," a scintillation of 
 genius which produced, as such humorous sparks 
 are wont to do, an explosive shout of laughter in 
 the crowd. All this wdiile the only outward sign 
 of mental agitation that the prisoner exhibited, was 
 an increased and extraordinary activity in chewing 
 and expectorating. 
 
 " Guess you ' ve got enough on — put on the feathers," 
 said an idle member of the executive- committee. 
 
 " You're doing it up brown," said a citizen en- 
 couragingly to the operators. 
 
 " Yes, 5wr," chirruped Bird, as he took hold of the 
 bag of feathers, and threw a handful on the prisoner's 
 neck. 
 
198 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 " Pour tliem on," suggested a spectator. 
 
 "]^o, it's better to put them on in handfuls," said 
 another voice. 
 
 Four ruffians (all men of social position,) took hold 
 of the ends of two long poles, of which they made a 
 rude St. Andrew's cross. 
 
 " Sit on there," said Mr. Hughes, pointing to the 
 part where the poles crossed, and addressing the pri- 
 soner. 
 
 " Why, they 're going to ride him on a rail," said a 
 voice beside me. 
 
 " Serves the d — d scoundrel right," returned his 
 companion. 
 
 "■ Yes," replied the voice, '4ie ought to be hanged." 
 
 "He's very right to do as he's bid," observes a 
 man near the prisoner, as Atkinson calmly put his 
 legs over the poles. " Best for him." 
 
 The tarred-and-feathered victim was then raised in 
 the air; each of the four citizens putting the end of 
 a j)ole on his shoulder, in order to render the prisoner 
 sufficiently conspicuous. They carried him down the 
 main street, which was thronged with people, down 
 to the wharf,* back again, and through several of the 
 smaller streets. 
 
 Just as the grotesque j)rocession — which it would 
 require the graphic pencil of a Belle w to do justice 
 to — was passing down the main street, amid the 
 laughter and jeers of the people, a steamer from St. 
 Louis stopped at the wharf, and I ran and boarded 
 her. When I returned, the prisoner had been re- 
 leased. He was put over the river that night. 
 
II. 
 
 BOSTON TO AI.EXANDKIA. 
 
 Alexandria, Mmj^ IJ:. — I left our quiet Boston on 
 Monday evening by the steamboat train ; spent Tues- 
 day in hurrying to and fro, in the hurly-burly city of 
 iNew York ; on "Wednesday afternoon, I paced the 
 sombre pavements of the Quaker City ; while to-day 
 1 have visited the City of Monuments, and the City 
 of Magnificent Distances and of innumerable and 
 interminable perorations and definitions of positions. 
 I intended to stay for a time in Washington ; but ran 
 through it, like Christian out of Yanity Fair, pray- 
 ing to be delivered from the flocks of temptations, 
 which hover, like ghouls, in and around the executive 
 mansion and the capitol of our republic. 
 
 SAIL TO ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 ITaviug thus, with expeditious virtue, resisted all 
 oifers of olficial position, I entered the ferry boat — 
 George Page, by name — which plies between the 
 capital and the city of Alexandria. It rained heavi- 
 ly and incessantly all the forenoon. Alexandria is 
 ten miles from Washington, by water, but I saw very 
 little of the scenery. AVhat I did see was in striking 
 contrast to the banks of tlie Delaware. Freedom 
 has adorned the Delaware's sides witli beantifnl villas, 
 and splendid mansions, surrounded by gardens and 
 
200 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 fields, carefully and scientifically cultivated ; while 
 slavery, where the national funds have not assisted 
 it, has placed negro cabins only, or ordinary country- 
 houses, to tell of the existence and abode of Saxon 
 civilization. 
 
 After doling out to the captain of the boat, each 
 of us, the sum of thirteen cents, we were landed at 
 the wharf of Alexandria ; and our feet, ankle deep in 
 mud, stood on the here miry, ill-paved, but sacred 
 soil of tlie Old Dominion. 
 
 FIRST, IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 Presently, we entered a Virginia omnibus — of 
 Yirginia manufacture — lined and with seats of the 
 very coarsest carpeting — with panels dirty, glass 
 dirty, and filthy floor — drove through dirty, ill-paved 
 streets, seeing dirty negro slaves and dirty white 
 idlers — the only population visible — and were halted 
 in front of the City Hotel. The omnibus and its 
 surroundings had so affected my physical organiza- 
 tion, that I immediately called for a bath. But I 
 found that there is not a public bath in all Alexan- 
 dria. It rained heavily still. Blue-spirited, I sat 
 down in the bar-room, and read the papers. 
 
 THE COUNTY PAPERS. 
 
 Alexandria supports two daily papers, the Sentinel 
 (Democratic) and Gazette^ (American). Both lan- 
 guish so decidedly that a " consolidation," w^ould not 
 make one flourishing journal. Of a number of par- 
 agraphs, significant as indications of the overwhelm- 
 ing success of slave society, the present state of Yir- 
 ginia and its cause, or as curiosities of the Southern 
 press and people, I subjoin the extracts following : 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 201 
 
 REASONS FOR DECLINING. 
 
 In the Nortliern States, when a candidate declines 
 to- run, it is generally becanse he believes he would 
 be beaten if he did. J. W. Patterson, of this county, 
 has declined from a very different motive — because 
 popularity, prosperity and hospitality, are incompati- 
 ble in Yirginia. He says : 
 
 To the Voters of Fauquier Co. — I am induced by a 
 number of considerations, to withdraw from the position I oc- 
 cupy as candidate for a seat in the next House of Delegates of 
 Virginia. In the first place, I find that a man has to quit all 
 private business, if he would become popular. Secondly, that 
 every small deed of kindness, the loaning of money even as a 
 business transaction, or any act that good citizenship and good 
 neighborship imposes, is entirely perverted, and attributed all to 
 
 selfish motives, for electioneering purposes, etc I 
 
 have many warm friends, I believe, but I hope they will excuse 
 me for declining now ; but I am at all times ready to serve the 
 public and private interests of the country when called on. 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 J. W. Patteeson. 
 
 Conceal or deny it as they may, the slaveholders 
 must feel the truth of Mr. McDowell's decharation, 
 that "slavery and danger are inseparable." Such 
 evidences as this paragraph gives, are too serious to 
 be sneered at or overlooked : 
 
 "JSTancy, slave of Mr. Seth Marsh, has been ar- 
 rested in Norfolk for attempting to poison the family 
 of Mrs. Eeid, milliner, residing on Church street, by 
 whom she was hired. It was shown that oxalic acid 
 had been mixed in with some food which the girl had 
 been cooking for the family." 
 
 9* 
 
202 TUE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 There are evidences, also, in every paper I pick 
 up, of the beneficial effect of Northern free emigra- 
 tion. Wherever the free colonists settle, np goes the 
 price of land forthwith. Here is an illustration : 
 
 "mSE OF EEAL ESTATE. 
 
 " Mr. Seth Ilalsey, a few days since, sold his farm of 
 600 acres near Lynchbury, Ya., to Mr. Barksdale, of 
 Halifax, for $4:5 per acre. He purchased it several 
 years ago of S. M. Scott, for $27 i3er acre." 
 
 In the county of Prince George, land, it aj)pears, 
 is equally valuable. 
 
 The Planter'^ s Advocate notices the sale of a farm 
 in Bladensburg District, consisting of one hundred 
 and ninety-one acres of unimproved land, for $3,247 
 — seventeen dollars per acre. 
 
 Another farm, near Patuxent City, Charles County, 
 near the dividing line, was sold for $8,000 ; another 
 still, in the same neighborhood, for $41 per acre. 
 
 The Advocate contains another paragraph, which I 
 cheerfully subjoin, as illustrative of the happy effects 
 of the extension of slavery over virgin territories, in 
 raising the price of Personal Estate in the Southern 
 section of the Pepublic. The price of slaves in Fair- 
 fax County is the same as here given. 
 
 " Sale of Servants. — A. H. Chew and P. B. Chew, 
 administrators of the late Leonard H. Chew, sold, on 
 Thursday last, part of the personal estate belonging 
 to the deceased, consisting of several servants. The 
 sales were as follows : 
 
 "One woman and two small girls sold for $1,450, 
 and were purchased by E. G. W. Hall, Esq. 
 
 " Boy, about 15 years of age, sold for $915, and 
 was purchased by Wm. Z. Beall, Esq. 
 
IN VmGINIA. . 2'/S 
 
 " Small boj sold for $700, and was ppicliased by 
 Daniel C. Digges, Esq. -i r 
 
 ''Girl, about M yea^s. ornge, sold for $900, and was 
 purchased by Jolni F. Pickrell, Esq., of Baltimore. 
 
 " Two small girls sold, one for $880, and the other 
 for $550, and were purchased by Mrs. A. H. Chew." 
 
 MY ROOM. 
 
 Tired with the bar-room and the county papers, I 
 asked to be conducted to my room. It is one of a 
 series of ten, contained in the upper part of a wing, 
 one room deep, the lower or groimd part of which is 
 either the cooking establishment or the negroes' 
 quarters. It runs into a spacious yard, and my win- 
 dow commands an exhilarating view of the stables 
 and out-houses. 'Ho. " 35 " is painted on the door, 
 apparently by some ingenious negro, who, unpro- 
 vided with a brush, conceived and executed the hap- 
 py idea of putting his fingers into a pot of white 
 paint, and then inscribing the desired figures on 
 the panels. As a w^ork of art, it is a great curi- 
 osity. 
 
 - The black man wdio conducted me to my room, as 
 soon as I permitted him — which I did not do until 
 my soul had drank in the beautiful chef d'^oeuvre of 
 the unknown and perhaps unlionored artist — opened 
 the door, and presented the interior of No. 35 to my 
 astonished vision, and its multitudinous odors to my 
 indignant olfactory organs. 
 
 Like Moses, I am a meek man. It requires a pow- 
 erful combination of circumstances to excite indigna- 
 tion in my heart. This view — these odors — I confess, 
 excited me. 
 
 ''This is infernal," I mildly remarked. 
 
.';U4: THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 The room is of <j^ood size, nearly square, with two 
 windows and ?,. lin'rh ceiling — as excellent, in these 
 resj^ects, as nine-tenths c/^ :he hotel rooms, or hotel 
 cells, in the city of Boston. But in every other res- 
 pect, I believe that all Boston — I even venture to say 
 New England — cannot match it or approach it. 
 
 The window that looks into the balustrade has evi- 
 dently been undisturbed by water, cloth or brush for 
 several months past. By placing your hand, fiat, on 
 the outside, you can secure an accurate delineation of 
 it, quicker than a daguerrean artist could take it. In- 
 side, it is embellished with innumeralde indications 
 of tlie transient visits of last year's Hies — little dots, 
 like periods, you know, which are familiar, I doubt 
 not, to all good housewives, and their industrious 
 helps. There are rollers inside to liang the curtains 
 on, but no cords with which to pull them up or down. 
 The curtain — an oil painted one — adorned with an 
 old chocolate-colored castle, pea-blue hills, yellow 
 rocks, and trees and shrubberies, with foliage like 
 Joseph's coat — of many colors — \'&2nnned on the rol- 
 lers, and irregularly at that ; its base describes an 
 acute angle, and it is so hung as to leave one-half of 
 a bottom pane of glass uncovered ; for tlie purpose, I 
 presume, of enabling the darkeys to watch the con- 
 duct of visitors when they feel so inclined. 
 
 The first object that presented itself to my aston- 
 ished gaze on entering the room, w^as a nameless ves- 
 sel, appropriate to sleeping apartments, wdiich the 
 servants had placed in as conspicuous a position as if 
 it had been a glass globe containing gold-fish. The 
 papering of the room w\ns variously bedaubed and 
 torn ; tlie wnndow opposite the door was nearly as 
 dir!y n^^ its mate ; a dirty, old, sun-stained curtain, 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 205 
 
 of colored calico, imhemmed^ and torn in seventeen 
 different places, hung mournfully over it. I went 
 over to put tins curtain to one side, in order to look 
 out, but found that there was no means of holding it. 
 I have had to stick my penknife into the window- 
 frame, in order to hold it back, and get light, as the 
 other curtain is hopelessly beyond my efforts. Were 
 I to put it up, or tear it down, it would be necessary 
 to clean the window for light to penetrate its j^resent 
 thick, sombre covering of dirt. 
 
 The window-frames and mantel-piece, once, I 
 faintly guess, painted of a liglit color, are in keeping 
 with their dirty surroundings. 
 
 The fire-place holds a little, rusty grate ; the plas- 
 tering immediately around it is nearly all knocked 
 off; and the rest of it is covered with tobacco juice, 
 and bears the marks of dirty boots. I do n't know 
 but I'll buy the fender, and send it to Kimball. It is 
 of copper, weighing about two pounds, but is so bent 
 up, covered with verdigris and tobacco juice, that, 
 until one lifts it up and examines it, it is impossible 
 to tell what manner of metal it is of. 
 
 A dirty slop-pail, with a broken wire handle, a 
 dirty mirror hung like the curtain, a couple of the 
 clieapest kind of chairs, a good bedstead and ward- 
 robe (locked, however), a cheap dressing-table, and 
 a dirty little pine table to hold the washbowl, com- 
 pletes the inventory of this room in a Virginia hotel. 
 There is a tradition, the negro tells me, that the ceil- 
 ing was once whitewashed. I do n't believe it. 
 
 After looking at the other rooms, I found that I had 
 better, after all, remain content with No. 35. 
 
206 THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 TALK WITH A SLAVE GIKL. 
 
 " How mucli do girls hire for here ?" 
 
 " I gets six dollars a month." 
 
 " How old are yoii?" 
 
 " Don' no." 
 
 " Are yon free ?" 
 
 " E'o, I b'longs to Miss ." 
 
 " Have you any children?" 
 
 " Yes, I's got two." 
 
 "How old are they?" 
 
 " Sal, she's six, and Wash, he's three." 
 
 " Where is yonr husband ?" 
 
 " I'se not married." 
 
 " I thought you said you had children ?" 
 
 " So I has." 
 
 " Is your mistress a member of the church ?" 
 
 " Yes, course she is. 
 
 "Didn't she tell you it was wrong to get children, 
 if you were not married?" 
 
 "No, ob course not," was the simple and rather 
 angry answer. 
 
 " What did she say, when your children were 
 born?" 
 
 "Didn't say nuthin'." 
 
 I presume Miss , acts on the precept, " Judge 
 
 not, that ye be not judged." Her charity for her 
 slaves is great, and verily it covereth a multitude of 
 sins ! 
 
 ELI THAYEK S SCHEME. 
 
 May 15. — I have had a conversation with a 
 prominent politician of the town, on the plan of Eli 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 207 
 
 Thayer, to colonize Virginia by free white laborers. 
 He launched out into an ocean — or perhaps mud- 
 puddle would be the apter phrase — of political invec- 
 tive against the " black republicans and abolitionists 
 of the JSTorth." He regarded Mr. Thayer as a brag- 
 gadocio — a fool — or a political trickster — who merely 
 threatened Virginia for effect at home. He couldn't 
 think he was in earnest. I told him that Stringfel- 
 low and Atchison had said that had it not been for 
 Mr. Thayer, and his Emigrant Aid scheme, Kansas ere 
 this would have been a slave State. 
 
 "Then, sir," said the politician, sternly, "if he 
 comes to Virginia with such a reputation, he will be 
 met as he deserves — expelled instantly or strung 
 up." 
 
 He did not believe that a single responsible citizen 
 of Virginia would aid or countenance his scheme of 
 colonization. He did not believe that Virginia had 
 contributed $G0,000 of stock to the Company. Mr. 
 Underwood w^as an impertinent intermeddler ; he 
 had been always kindly treated in Virginia, although 
 his free-soil sentiments were known ; but, not con- 
 tent with that, he must go to Philadelphia, pretend- 
 ing to be one of us, and, if you please, sent by us to 
 the black republican convention, and make a speech 
 there, indorsing a party whose single idea and basis 
 of organization was hostility to the Southern people 
 and to Southern institutions. Did I supj)ose the 
 Southern people would endure that ? " They repelled 
 him, justly," said the politician, " as justly as our 
 forefatliers would have punished by death a traitor 
 who should go from their camp to assist the Eritish 
 in their efforts to conquer the colonies." 
 
208 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 VIRGINIA POLITICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 " Pie had as little patience with a free soiler as an 
 abolitionist. One had done as much as the other to 
 excite the jnst indignation of the South. The Black 
 Hepublicans talked of hemming slavery in, and 
 making it sting itself to death, like a serpent. Why 
 should the southern man be prevented from going to 
 the common play-ground of the nation with his — (I 
 thought he would have said toys for slaves, but he 
 called them) — property ? Tlie North might force the 
 South to dissolution, but never to non-extension of 
 slavery. 
 
 '' He was often amused, he said, in reading the Black 
 Eepublican papers. They would talk about the 
 limited number of slaveholders, and ask whether this 
 little oligarchy should rule the nation. Why, sir, the 
 non-slaveholders are more opposed to abolitionism 
 and Black Republicanism than the slaveholders. And 
 they have cause. Liberate the negroes, and you put 
 them on a level with the white man. Tliis result 
 might not disturb the nerves of a ISTortliern man, 
 because there were so few negroes in their section ; 
 but here, w^here they constituted a great class, it was 
 a different thing. The two races could not live in 
 harmony ; one must rule the other. Put Theodore 
 Parker, or any other fanatic, in a society where the 
 two races were nearly equal in numerical force, and 
 you would soon make a good pro-slavery man of him. 
 Where there is freedom, there must be disputes about 
 superiority. There is no dis])ute between the two 
 races here. I own a nigger. There can be no dis- 
 pute about our rank. So of the non-slaveholder. 
 He's white, and not owned by any one. He does n't 
 
IN YIEGINIA. 209 
 
 wish that condition disturbed by any intermeddling 
 northerner. 
 
 " There has been a great change in the sentiments 
 of the people of Virginia on the subject of slavery, 
 within the last few years : but not in favor of emanci- 
 pation. No, sir ! All the other way. I recollect 
 my father going about wdth a petition in favor of 
 giving the government — the N'ational Government — 
 the power to abolish it. Any man who would 
 attempt that now would be tarred and feathered. 
 Tlie intermeddling of the North has caused us to look 
 more deeply into this subject than we were wont to 
 do. Sir, we hold that servitude is the proper and 
 legitimate condition of the negro ; it is evidently the 
 position His Maker designed him for; and we 
 believe, sir, that he is happier, more contented and 
 more developed in slavery — here in the southern 
 States — than in any other part of the world, whether 
 in Africa, Europe, or the Northern States. 
 
 ^' This change in public sentiment is continually 
 going on — always in favor of perpetuating the insti- 
 tution as it is. You w^ill find my statements verified 
 in every county you may travel in." 
 
 Tliis gentleman is a respectable and prominent 
 citizen of Alexandria. I call him a politician, 
 because our conversation was of that character, 
 rather than on account of his profession. His views 
 are very generally diftused among all classes here. 
 
 I asked him whether, if Northern people w^ere to 
 settle here — from the New England States — they 
 would be likely to be annoyed on account of their 
 sectional birth ? 
 
 He said that numbers of New England pco])le 
 were settled here; and, as they were sound on ihe 
 
210 THE EOVIXG EDITOR 
 
 slavery question, or quiet, tliey were not disturbed. 
 If Nortlierners were sensitive, he thought that they 
 would often be annoyed by conversational remarks — 
 for, especially during times of election, denunciation 
 of the Worth had hecome a habit of conversation. He 
 made the remark I have italicized as if it was a mat- 
 ter of course — nothing surprising, nor a circumstance 
 to be lamented. 
 
 He said that if persons from the ]S"orth, with free 
 soil sentiments, came here to settle, they must cer- 
 tainly refrain, even in conversation, from promulgat- 
 ing their ideas, as 'they would undoubtedly be 
 lynched or banished if they did. 
 
 Inly querying whether this was liberty, and whe- 
 ther Virginia was a State of a Republic, I turned the 
 conversation, and went from his presence. 
 
 ALEXANDRIA 
 
 Was originally in the District of Columbia ; but, 
 within a few years, has been organized, with a few 
 miles adjoining, into the county of Alexandria. Tlie 
 county is the smallest in the Commonwealth, and is 
 almost exclusively held in small lots, on which mar- 
 ket produce is raised. 
 
 Alexandria contains a population of from seven to 
 ten thousand, as nearly as I can guess; for it is 
 impossible to learn anything accurately here. Sev- 
 eral men wdiom I have asked, have variously 
 stated its population at from six to thirteen thousand 
 inhabitants. 
 
 The first characteristic that attracts the attention of 
 a Boston traveller in entering a southern town, next 
 to the number, and the dull, expressionless appear- 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 211 
 
 ance of the faces of tlie negroes — is the loitering 
 attitudes, and the tak e-y our- time-Mi ss-Lucy style of 
 walking of the white population. The number of 
 professional loafers, or apparent loafers, is extraordi- 
 nary. 
 
 TALK WITH A SLAVE. 
 
 In coming from Washington, on the ferry-boat, I 
 had a talk with one of the slaves. I asked him how 
 much he was hired for. 
 
 " I get $120— it 's far too little. Tlie other fellows 
 here get $30 a month — so they has $21, and they 
 only pays $10 for me." 
 
 " Why do you work for so little, then ?" I asked, 
 supposing, from what he said, that he was a free- 
 man. 
 
 " I's a slave," he said. 
 
 " Are the others free ?" 
 
 " No, sir, but they hires their own time. Tlieir 
 mass'r takes $120 a year for them, and they hires out 
 for $30 a month, and pays $9 for board — so they has 
 $6 a month to themsel'es. I works as hard as them 
 and I does n't get nothin'. It's too hard." 
 
 "Why don't you hire out your time?" I asked 
 him. 
 
 " Kase my missus won't let me. I wish she would. 
 I could make heaps of money for myself, if she 
 did." 
 
 " Why won't slie let you hire your time ?" 
 
 " Oh, kase she's a queer ole missus." 
 
 " What do your companions do with tlieir money 
 when they save it ?" 
 
 "Oh, guess they sprees.'''* 
 
 " Would you if you had money?" 
 
212 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 " m, sir." 
 
 " Do any of your friends save their money to buy 
 tlieir freedom ?" 
 
 ''Some on them as has a good chance has done 
 it." 
 
 '' What do you call a good chance ?" 
 
 " When our owner lets us hire our time reasonable, 
 and 'lows us to buy oursel'es low." 
 
 " What is the usual pay for laborers ?" 
 
 " $120 or so — we as follows the water gets more. 
 I won't foller it another year, 'kase it's too confinin' ; 
 but I'd allers foller it if my missus 'lowed me to hire 
 my own time." 
 
 "What is paid to white laborers?" 
 
 " Same as colored, unless they's a boss, or suthin' 
 extra." 
 
 " Suthin' extra," I presume, meant mechanics, who 
 receive, in Alexandria, $1 50 a day; carpenters $2: 
 printers get from $8 to $10, by the week. Over at 
 Washington, they are employed by the piece, but 
 work, they say, is precarious and fluctuating. 
 
III. 
 
 Fairfax Coukt House, If ay 17. — I left Alexan- 
 dria this morning, on foot, to see how the country 
 looked, how the people talked, the price of land, the 
 mode of living, and the system of agriculture now in 
 vogue in this very fertile section of Yirginia. 
 
 I regret to state that repeated walks through the 
 city of Alexandria compel me to adhere to my first 
 impressions of that lazy town. It is a dull, dismal, 
 dirty, decrepit, ill-paved, ill-swept, ill-scented place. 
 It has slowly increased in population, and its real 
 estate has greatly risen in value, since the opening 
 of the railroads which now terminate there, and since 
 the incorporation of another line now in course of 
 construction. 
 
 "With one-tenth of the natural advantages it pos- 
 sesses, if Alexandria had been situated in a Northern 
 State, one hundred thousand souls would now have 
 been settled there. 
 
 SUBUEBS OF ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 For three or four miles around Alexandria, the 
 country is as beautiful as beautiful can be. I walked 
 through it "like a dream." The day was exceed- 
 ingly pleasant — a soft, warm zephyr was blowing 
 from the south — almost ponderous, at times, with 
 
 213 
 
214 THE KOVING EDITOK 
 
 the perfume of blossoms, shrubbery and flowers ; the 
 clear blue sky, yariegated with fleecy clouds, in every 
 variety of combination as to color and form — the 
 shining waters of the apjDarently tranquil Potomac, 
 visible and beautiful in the distance — cultivated 
 fields in the valley and running up the hill-slopes, 
 studded w^ith houses, and interspersed with innumer- 
 able strips of forest in full foliage — made a landscape, 
 a terrestrial picture, of almost celestial charms and 
 other-w^orldly perfection. 
 
 A SMALL FARM. 
 
 For two or three miles on the road I travelled, 
 the land is chiefly held in small sections, and devoted 
 to the culture of market produce. 
 
 I entered the house of one of these small farmers. 
 It was a one-and-a-half-story frame, old, and in need 
 of repair ; it had heen wdiitewashed, and had rather a 
 shiftless looking aspect generally. 
 
 The farmer's wife — a bustling Yankee-isli w^oman — 
 was at home ; the ol^r nian was in town wdth the pro- 
 duce of his fields. 
 
 I asked her how many acres there were in her 
 farm, and whether she w^ould sell it ? 
 
 She said there were fifty-nine acres, of light sandy 
 soil ; that they cultivated sw^eet potatoes and market 
 produce, almost exclusively. She didn't believe her 
 old man would sell it ; certainly not less than $100 
 an acre. Land had risen in value very much indeed 
 within the last few years. Her brother "William, 
 however, had a farm on the Leesburg road, that he 
 wanted to sell — " Well, he war n't in any hurry about 
 it, either," but she reckoned he mowt come to tenns 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 215 
 
 with me — it were a first-rate farm, too, and she be- 
 lieved it would just suit me. 
 
 " How many hands do you employ to keep your 
 farm in order ?" 
 
 '' Well, my husband, he keeps four hands besides 
 himself; he's in town a good deal, but w^e employ 
 three niggers and a white foreman, all the time on 
 the farm." 
 
 "And you keep a woman to assist you?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What do you pay for your negroes ? — do you hire 
 them, or do you own them ?" 
 
 COST OF SLAVE LABOR. 
 
 "Oh, no, w^e don't own none: we hire them from 
 their owners, by the year. Field hands — ^first rate 
 hands — get from $110 to $128 ; and we pay about 
 from eighty to ninety dollars for boys." 
 
 " What do you call a boy ?" 
 
 "Well, a nigger from — say seventeen to twenty- 
 two ; pretty much, often, according to their strength. 
 We count some hands, men, younger than others." 
 
 " What do you have to pay for women ?" 
 
 "I pay seventy-five dollars for this gal, and then 
 her doctor's bill, if she gets sick, and her clothes." 
 
 "AVhat do you reckon her clothes worth?" 
 
 "Yv^ell, we have to give them, both field hands 
 and house-servants, two summer suits and a winter 
 suit. That's what's allowed them by law, but most 
 of them have to get more. We most always have to 
 give them four suits a year." 
 
 "How much does it cost you to clothe a house- 
 servant ?" 
 
216 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 "Well, about fourteen or fifteen dollars a year, 
 or so." 
 
 "And field hands?" 
 
 " Field hands cost about the same, or not much 
 more than women. Their summer suits cost very 
 little, and we clothe the niggers in winter in what 
 we call Yirginny cloth ; it 's coarse stuff, does very 
 well, and do n't cost a great deal." 
 
 " Their pants, vest, and coat are all made out of 
 the same stuff, are they ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What do you manure your farm with ?" 
 
 " Guano, stable manure, and lime." 
 
 I asked her a great many other questions — quite 
 enough, and a few to spare, to show that I had lived 
 in Boston — but she could not give me any reliable 
 information in relation to agricultural subjects. 
 
 She showed me her garden. Tulips and a great 
 many other flowers are in full bloom ; the cinnamon 
 rose is bursting its buds ; gooseberries are as large as 
 a bean, or larger; nearly all the apple trees have 
 cast their blossoms. Every tree, without exception, 
 is covered with foliage ; grass is a foot high, and in 
 some places two or three feet. Every grove is vocal 
 with birds. 
 
 AN ABSENTEE FAEM. 
 
 Further on — three miles and a half from Alexan- 
 dria — is the farm of Mr. David Barber, of New York, 
 an absentee proprietor, wdiich is rented from year to 
 year, by Mr. Leesome, a Yirginian, who was also 
 the agent, I ascertained, to sell it to the highest or 
 the earliest bidder. 
 
 After mature reflection, I concluded that it might 
 
IN VLRGLNIA. 217 
 
 pay me to buy it, if I could spare tlie mouey, and 
 the price was reasonable. I accordingly went up to 
 the house to make the usual preliminary investiga- 
 tions. 
 
 It is an old, large, once-whitepainted house, which, 
 like the edifice we read of in sacred writ, is set on a 
 hill that it cannot be hid. It is built on what a 
 Yankee would call, " quite " a knoll — to-wit, a high 
 knoll, and commands a most beautiful j)rospect of 
 hill, and dale, and water. 
 
 A country portico — I had nearly said shed — ex- 
 tends along the entire front of the dwelling. The 
 Venetian blinds on the room windows were shut, and, 
 judging from the thick deposit of dust upon them, 
 had been shut for several months past. 
 
 I modestly rapped on the door which stood hospi- 
 tably open. A young negro girl, six or seven years 
 old, came out of an adjoining room, looked at me 
 steadily but vacantly, did not condescend to open 
 her sombre-colored lips, but retired as she entered, 
 without warning, and silently as death. 
 
 In a moment or two afterwards a young mother 
 entered, a woman of twenty-six or twenty-seven, 
 pale, rather pretty, blue-eyed, modest-seeming, and, 
 as conventional writers phrase it, very lady-like in 
 her deportment. 
 
 " Good morning, madam — here your polite corres- 
 pondent, as in duty bound, " dolfed his tile," with 
 most " exquisite " grace. 
 
 " Good morning, sir." 
 
 " I understand that this estate is for sale ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I've called to make some inquiries about it." 
 
 " Please sit down, sir." 
 
 JO 
 
218 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 Your correspondent did so — first glancing around 
 tlie room, and wondering whether or not it is not 
 quite as easy to keej) everything in order as to culti- 
 vate untidiness ; but he could not reply, having never 
 studied Heaven's first law himself — only seen it in 
 successful operation in New England households. 
 
 " How many acres have you ?" 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty-three." 
 
 " How much do you ask for it ?" 
 
 " It is n't ours ; we only rent it ; it belongs to a 
 ISTew York gentleman ; he offers to sell it for ten 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 (I inly wdiistled, as my plan of buying it vanished 
 into thinnest air at this tremendous announcement.) 
 
 " What rent do you pay for it ?" 
 
 " $250 a year." 
 
 " How many acres of wood have you ?" 
 
 " Fifty, or thereabouts — most of it is swamp." 
 
 " How many rooms are there in this house ?" 
 
 " Seven and a kitchen." 
 
 I asked her some other questions, but she referred 
 me to an old man who was w^orking — ]3lanting corn 
 — down in a field near the line of railroad. 
 
 I went down to him. 
 
 There are two high knolls on the farm, which are 
 formed of a gravelly soil. On the knoll south of the 
 master's house, is an old, large log hut — an Uncle 
 Tom's cabin — of three rooms ; at the bottom of the 
 knoll is a stable, requiring renovation, capable of 
 holding eight horses and two tons of hay, and a barn 
 which is calculated to accommodate fifteen cows and 
 twenty tons of hay. The soil, except on the knolls, 
 is a light, rich, clayey loam. 
 
 It would take at least $500 to renovate the farm- 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 219 
 
 buildings and the house ; while the fences are sadly 
 dilapidated. The whole farm requires refencing. 
 
 I went down to the field. A young negro man 
 was ploughing, and a black boy of fourteen, very small 
 of his age, was assisting the old man in planting. 
 
 I asked him several questions about the farm, 
 which it is unnecessary to repeat here. He said he 
 kept ten cows ; might keep twenty if he " chooscd ;" 
 but there was no spring on the farm, and water 
 was n't quite handy. 
 
 I thought, what a very insurmountable obstacle that 
 would have been to a Yankee — a good swamp near 
 at hand, and a chance to double his profits — but 
 declined " because water was n't quite handy !" 
 
 FAEMING IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 He said he had only a rent from year to year ; 
 Mr. Barber would n't give him a lease, because he cal- 
 culated to sell it, and only allowed him to cultivate 
 twenty-five acres a year, in this order — corn, oats, 
 clover, pasture. 
 
 The swamp was valuable, but the farm was n't 
 fenced near the railroad, or it would be worth fifty 
 dollars more rent a year. Sometimes he raised fifty 
 bushels of corn to the acre, but he did not average 
 over thirty-five bushels. It took two men and a boy 
 to cultivate these twenty-five acres and attend to the 
 cows. He gave $80 a year for the young man — he 
 was worth more than that, though — and twenty-five 
 dollars for the boy. First rate field hands, that 
 could cradle and mow, and good teamsters, brought 
 as liigh, in this neighborhood, as §130 a year. 
 
 Between this farm and Alexandria, he said, land 
 was selling as high as one hundred dollars an acre. 
 
220 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 He considered tliis farm the cheapest in this part of 
 the country, the way land appears to be going now. 
 It took four horses to cultivate this farm. 
 
 His estimate of the cost of clothing slaves was the 
 same as the lady's of the other farm. Yirginia cloth, 
 he said, cost eighty-seven and a half cents per yard. 
 
 TALK ABOUT FREE LA.B0K. 
 
 I asked him if he would not prefer free labor ? He 
 said if he had a farm of his own, and everything as 
 he wanted it, he would not employ a single slave. 
 
 1 asked him if he could not get free laborers here ? 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " you can hire Irishmen, as many 
 as you want, from ten to twelve dollars a month." 
 
 " Why do n't you employ them, then ?" 
 
 IRISHMEN IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 " Well, for several reasons. First, there are too 
 many slaves, and thatinduces us to hire them. It's 
 the custom, and you can order slaves ahout. You can 
 make them do a job on Sunday, or any time when 
 you want to ; but the Irish, when they come to this 
 country, get above themselves — they think they are 
 free^ and do just as they have a mind to !! Then, 
 again, they are very much given to drink, and 
 they 're very saucy when they 're in liquor." 
 
 " What about the Yirginians ?" 
 
 " They '11 not submit to be hired by the year." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Well, I do n't know ; it 's the custom, some how." 
 
 '' Is n't it because slaves are hired by the year, and 
 they do n't want to appear to be bound like slaves?" 
 
 " Yery probable. Now, you can't hire a Yirginia 
 girl to do any housework." 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 221 
 
 " How do tlio Yirginian free laborers work ?" 
 
 " Some of tliem," lie said, " work very well ; but, 
 as a general thing, you can't hire them to work on a 
 farm." 
 
 I told him that if any of my friends came down 
 here to settle, I should advise them to bring their 
 Northern laborers with them. He said it would be 
 the best and most profitable thing they could do, and 
 advised me to go and see a Mr. Deming, a ISTew York 
 farmer, who had come into this neighborhood recently, 
 and employed free laborers only. 
 
 I asked the lady of the house if she could hire 
 white servants. 
 
 IRISH GIRLS AS HELPS. 
 
 She said, " Yes, you can hire Irish girls for four 
 and five dollars a month." 
 
 " Cheaper than slaves ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why don't you hire them, then ?" 
 
 " Because, wdien you hire a slave, if you like Jier^ 
 you can hire her from her master for seven or eight 
 years, or as long as you like ; but, if you hire an 
 Irish girl, if she do n't like you^ she w411 leave some- 
 times in less than a month, or stay all winter and 
 leave you in the spring, just as your busy time is 
 about commencing." 
 
 NORTHERN EMIGRANTS. 
 
 I visited Mr. Deming's farm, and walked over it. 
 He has been here about four years. He paid $27 
 per acre for the farm, which contains a long one-and- 
 a-half story house, a barn and other outbuildings, a 
 good orchard and a garden.' He had devoted his 
 
222 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 attention chiefly to a nursery, wliicli he planted when 
 he first came here. 
 
 This farm was one of the rmi-oiit estates, which 
 Eli Thayer & Co. propose to "rejuvenate, regenerate 
 and redeem." This experiment augurs w^ell for Eli's 
 great enterprise. It costs less — Mr. Deming says — 
 to redeem worn-out estates than to hew down the 
 aboriginal forests ; and their value, after that, very 
 seldom approaches an equality. Nearer markets, 
 nearer civilization, the Virginia farms are much more 
 valuable than Western claims. 
 
 Mr. Deming had found the experiment of free 
 labor to work well ; he finds little difiiculty in pro- 
 curing it ; and it is much more profitable in every 
 respect. In every direction around him the same 
 experiment is in course of trial. 
 
 I am indebted to Mr. Deming and his wife for hos- 
 pitable entertainment, and much valuable informa- 
 tion. 
 
 NOTES BY THE WAY. 
 
 After dinner at Mr. Deming's, I rode back to 
 Alexandria, for a valued casket I had forgotten, 
 but immediately returned and resumed my journey 
 afoot and alone. The further you leave Alexandria 
 behind, the land becomes less beautiful and less cul- 
 tivated. I subjoin these notes as the results of my 
 talks and observations on the road to Fairfax Court 
 House. 
 
 Northern farmers first began to settle in this 
 county in 18-11. At that time, this section, now one 
 of the most fertile in the State, was desolate and 
 sterile, and the question was seriously discussed 
 whether it could ever again be cultivated. The 
 
IX VIRGINIA. 223 
 
 Nortlierners bought up the run-out farms, and innne- 
 diatelj began to renovate the soih Fertilitj reap- 
 peared — the wilderness began to blossom as the rose. 
 Yirginia farmers began to see that there was still 
 some hope for their lands, and immediately com- 
 menced to imitate and emulate their JS^orthern neio:h- 
 bors. The result is a beautiful and fertile country — 
 fertile and beautiful, too, in exact proportion to the 
 preponderance of N'orthern poj^ulation. 
 
 At Falls Church, seven miles from Alexandria, 
 where a colony of J^orthern farmers settled, land is, 
 higher now than in any other part of the county at the 
 same distance from the city. 
 
 The ISTortherners first introduced guano, now so 
 usefully employed in redeeming and fertilizing the 
 farms in this State. 
 
 This is the uniform testimony of every one, white 
 or black, that I talked with. 
 
 The Virginians have a good deal yet to learn from 
 the Northern farmer. I saw a large farm — of some 
 two or three hundred acres — ^j^esterday, which con- 
 sisted of two fields only — the road running through 
 the centre of the estate and thus dividing it. There 
 were patches of different produce in these mammoth 
 fields — pasture, wheat, oats and clover. 
 
 I asked liow they managed to " bait " their cattle 
 on the clover pasture, without endangering the 
 wheat. 
 
 " TTAy, send a nigger out to watch tJiemP'' 
 
 Fifty acres of land, three or four miles from Alex- 
 andria, sold recently for §57 50 per acre. 
 
224 THE EOVING EDITOK 
 
 TALK WITH A SLAVE. 
 
 When within two or three miles of this place, I met 
 a stalwart negro, very black, of whom I asked the 
 price of land. 
 
 He said that some was as low as $30 an acre, and 
 that it ranged from that price to glOO : that it had 
 risen very high since the l^orthern folks came in. 
 This he said without a leading question, but he added 
 instantly — 
 
 " Dey soon learns Yirginny's tricks." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why, dey soon's hard on collud folks as Yirgin- 
 ians." 
 
 "I have heard that," I said, "but was unwilling to 
 believe it." 
 
 " Well, mass'r," he said, " it 's a fac ; dey soon 
 holds slaves, and sells him, too, after dey stays here a 
 while." 
 
 " Are you a married man ?" 
 
 "Yes; I'se gwane to see my wife now." [He 
 told me she lived some live or six miles oiF.] 
 
 " Is it true that the Yirginians sometimes separate 
 families of colored people ?" 
 
 " Oh," he said, vehemently, as if surprised at such 
 a question, " it 's as common as spring water runs." 
 
 " Quite common ?" 
 
 "As common as water flows," he said. "Why, 
 dey '11 sell a chile from its moder's breast, as it were 
 — dey does do it ; I 'se seen it done, dat berry ting." 
 
 " What induced any one to do that ?" 
 
 "Why, sometimes favorite collud woman's chile 
 die, and missus will buy anoder of somebody else's." 
 
 " How much do they get for a sucking child ?" 
 
. IN YIKGINIA. 225 
 
 " A darkey's worth a liundred dollars as soon as 
 he kin holler — dat 's what de white folks say bout 
 here." 
 
 " At the INorth," I said, " wdien your masters come 
 there, they say they never separate families." 
 
 "Oh!" he ejaculated, "just you stay few month 
 in Yirginny, and you '11 soon see it done hundords of 
 times." 
 
 I have seen it done repeatedly — in Virginia, and 
 many other Slave States. 
 
 I must add one remark of this negro, which is a 
 sign of the times. Talking of the l^ortherners in 
 this section, he said : 
 
 " Some on 'em, maybe, is agin slavery ; but dey's 
 on de light side^^ 
 
 " What do you mean by that ?" I asked. 
 
 " Why, de Constitution is in de oder scale agin us, 
 and de E'orthern folks here's too light agin it." 
 
 This theory — Garrison's Ethiopianized — was pro- 
 bably gathered from some " Only " Wise politician's 
 speech, or allusions to the Federal Constitution. 
 
 10* 
 
IV. 
 
 At a Farmer's IlorsE in Fairfax County, May 
 18. — ^Fairfax Court House, from which. I dated my 
 last letter, is a village of four or five hundred inhabit- 
 ants — of what the "Western people, in their peculiar 
 idiom, call the " one horse " order of municipalities. 
 It contains a court house, built of brick, one or two 
 churches, half a dozen houses, on the outskirts of the 
 village, built in rather a tasteful style, three taverns 
 of the most decrepit and dilapidated aspect, and 
 several stores which present the same unsightly and 
 haggard appearance. It supports a paper, called the 
 Fairfax County News^ from the last but one issue of 
 which I learn — and the fact is recorded as a thing 
 to be proud of — that the people of the South, and 
 especially of Virginia, abhor and detest that " sickly 
 philanthropy " which seeks to abolish punishment by 
 death. No doubt of it. For do n't they cherish and 
 inculcate that healthy benevolence which sells hus- 
 band from wife, and children from parents ? 
 
 A WHITE SLAVE. 
 
 I arrived at Fairfax Court House, as the village is 
 called, on Saturday evening, about sunset, and imme- 
 diately put up at the best hotel. I noticed at supper, 
 that the young man who waited on the guests, was so 
 nearly white and fair in liis complexion, that he 
 
THE EOYING EDITOJJ. 227 
 
 miglit easily have passed for an Anglo-Saxon, if his 
 hair, which was light, but slightly curly, had not 
 betrayed his demi-semi-African origin. 
 
 After supper, he showed me to my room — a large, 
 high room, without a shred of carpet, and no other 
 furniture than a chair, a very small washstand, a bed 
 and a 9 X 12-inch Yankee lookino:-£rlass. 
 
 I asked my demi-semi-colored conductor if there 
 were many l^orthern people settled in this vicinity ? 
 
 He said : " Yes, there 's a good many ; two of the 
 heirs to the estate are [N^orthern men who married two 
 
 of Mr. W 's daughters ; they are worse on us than 
 
 the Virginians — one of them put me in jail once, 
 and he was a great big abolitioner, too, when he come 
 here." 
 
 This abrupt and slightly unintelligible answer and 
 autobiographical incident, induced me to ask him to 
 tell his story. He promised to come up after bed 
 time, as he would probably be sus})ected if he staid 
 with me now. 
 
 I was very tired w^ith my walk and ride, and so I 
 went to bed, and was soon sound asleep. And be- 
 hold, I dreamed a dream. I was talking. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! can 't you invent some plan so that I 
 need n't be a slave all my life ?" 
 
 " A slave !" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said a plaintive voice ; '' can 't you in- 
 vent some way so that I can get to be free ?" 
 
 I awoke and found that the slave was kneeling 
 over me, w^ith his hand around my neck. I had been 
 talking in my sleep, sympathizing with him, cursing 
 the slaveholders, and had touched his heart, uncon- 
 sciously to myself ! He said I had been talking about 
 bim, as if I was speaking to somebody else. I was 
 
228 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 too tired to talk to him much. I only asked 
 him — 
 
 " "Who is your master?" 
 
 "I belong," he said, "to the Estate : but am going 
 to be divided in June." 
 
 " Divided !" 
 
 " Yes, sir," he said, " we all on us is to be divided 
 among the heirs — there's eight on 'em — in June, and 
 Ts afeard Til fall to one of the Nortlierncrs .'" 
 
 Next morning he told me his story, in reply to my 
 questions. I took it down in stenographic notes. 
 Here it is : 
 
 HIS STORY. 
 
 "I belong to the estate of "W . I will be 
 
 twenty-one, I think it is in June. (1 have seldom 
 known a slave to know his age positively.) My 
 mother was a light-colored mulatto ; she was a house- 
 servant with old Mr W . His son E was 
 
 my father. Old W died about a month before 
 
 last Christmas. The estate holds me and my mother 
 too. There are eight heirs — all children of old Mr. 
 W . 
 
 " W had twenty-four slaves. We are to be 
 
 divided this coming June. I do n't know who I am 
 going to. There are two on them I would n't like to 
 go to, 'kase they would not let me be free. Some of 
 the heirs gave me a note to go round among the 
 heirs, to see if they would not set me free, and not 
 be divided ; bekase I was the old man's waiter all my 
 life, and they knowed who my father was." 
 
 (This " note," he explained, was an agreement, 
 intended to be signed by each of the heirs ; and, if so 
 signed by all, would have secured the poor boy's free- 
 dom.) 
 
IN VIRGINIA . 220 
 
 " , one of the Nortliern men who married one 
 
 of my master's daughters, proposed this plan when 
 the old man was living ; but after the death of the 
 old man, they both changed their minds, thinking I 
 might come to them. These Northern men used to 
 talk to the old man that I ought to be free. After 
 his death they 'posed it. All the Virginians, every 
 one of them, are in favor of setting me free. 
 
 " I am hired to this man for a hundred and twenty 
 dollars a year." 
 
 " Would you like to be free ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I would that. I do not get any money 
 — not a cent — 'cept what gentlemen I wait on 
 chooses to give me. I have hardly time to change 
 my clothes, let alone anything else. If I w^as free I 
 would like to stay here if the law 'lowed me, but it 
 wo n't 'low me. I w^ould have to go to Canada, or 
 some'eres else. I couldn't live in a slave State. My 
 mother has no other child but me. She is rather 
 browner than I am." 
 
 I would respectfully transmit and submit to our 
 prominent anti-slavery politicians, the interrogatory, 
 heart-broken and vital, of the poor white slave : 
 
 " Oh, sirs, can't you invent some plan so that the 
 slave need n't be in bondage all his life ?" 
 
 When I see slavery as it is, and hear the poor 
 bondmen talk, I feel my republicanism rapidly going 
 out of me, and radical abolitionism as rapidly flow- 
 
 PEICE OF (iNANIIVIATE) KEAL ESTATE. 
 
 Before leaving the village I was making some 
 inquiries concerning the price of landed estate. A 
 stranger came up to me and asked if I wanted to 
 
230 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 buy. I told liim I wanted to find out the price of 
 land, but did n't calculate to buy just at present. He 
 said he had three or four farms for sale, on com- 
 mission, of which he gave the following descrip- 
 tion : 
 
 'No. 1 is within two miles of Fairfax Court House. 
 It consists of 140 acres. Twenty-five acres are in 
 timber. It is a stilf, red clay soil. There are several 
 springs on the farm ; a comfortable log house, con- 
 taining five rooms, with a kitchen detached. The 
 farm is divided into two or three fields. Fencing 
 pretty good. No barn, but a stable. Price twenty- 
 five dollars an acre. 
 
 (Fairfax Court House is fifteen miles from Alexan- 
 dria.) 
 
 No. 2 consists of one hundred acres. It has fif- 
 teen acres of timber. Fifty acres are bottom land — 
 a rich sandy loam : thirty-five acres of upland have 
 a stifi", red clayey soil. A large creek runs through 
 the farm, and it has about twenty difi'erent springs. 
 It is divided into five fields. The outside fence is 
 good ; the inner fences need repairing. It has a good 
 house on it, of seven rooms — kitchen in the base- 
 ment — ten years old ; and a good barn of 16 x 40 feet. 
 It is nine miles from Georgetown, on the only road 
 now passable. The bridges have been swept away 
 on the others. Price, $35 an acre. 
 
 He has three other farms for sale, at from $15 to 
 $40 per acre. 
 
 I asked him the reason why so many farms were 
 for sale. 
 
 " Well, the emigration to Kansas and the South is 
 one cause, and another reason is that a great many 
 northerners who came down here, were too greedy 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 23 J 
 
 to make money ; tliey laid too much money out in 
 buying land, and did n't leave a reserve fund to 
 rej)air and improve on. They calculated to pay part 
 out of the farm, but did n't keep enough to bring it 
 up. Some Northerners are in as prosperous condition 
 here as in any JSrorthern State. Them that don't 
 come here to speculate, but settle down, do n't buy 
 beyond their means, and go to work, get on well. 
 There 's plenty round here wdio came down with 
 small means, bought a small tract, and kept adding 
 to it, that are independent. Others have been ruined 
 by speculation." 
 
 " Are there many I^orthern families in this coun- 
 
 ty?"^ 
 
 " Yes, there are eight or nine hundred families — 
 chiefly from York State, now and then a few from 
 Pennsylvania, and occasionally one from Vermont." 
 
 I asked the price of farm stock. He said good 
 work horses ranged from $160 to $170, sometimes 
 $150. lie said that if Northern men came down to 
 settle here they had better bring their horses with 
 them — it would be economical for them to do it. 
 Two wealthy men from the North had moved into 
 this neighborhood a month ago, and brought all their 
 stock with them. 
 
 Cows are worth thirty dollars, and oxen, one hun- 
 dred and twenty-five dollars a yoke. It would pay 
 to bring them from the North here to sell them. 
 Northern cattle brought as high, he said, as from a 
 hundred and fifty to a hundred and seventy-five 
 dollars. They are better broke, and last better than 
 Virginia-raised cattle ; so are Northern horses — wo 
 feed too much grain to ours. He said Northern 
 emigrants had bettor bring all kinds of agricultural 
 
232 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 implements, except heavy tilings — such as ox-plows, 
 carts, and the like. 
 
 FKEE LABOK AND SLAVE LABOK. 
 
 I asked whether free ol' slave labor was the most 
 profitable here ? 
 
 lie said, " Slave labor, because you can get it 
 whenever you want it. Some Northern farmers 
 brought their laborers with them, but they soon got 
 dissatisfied, and left. They found they had no one 
 to associate with but those they came with, and they 
 left. Then again, if you are pressed for work, you 
 can't get white laborers, and have to employ slaves, 
 and white men won't work with them. So you are 
 brought down to the nigger again. Small farmers 
 are working with white laborers, and do very well." 
 
 A VIKGINIAN ON YANKEES. 
 
 "When the Yankees come down, can't you get 
 them to work ?" 
 
 " Tlie further," he said, " you go North, the more 
 industrious the men are. They are obliged to work 
 to get a living. But when they come here they dete- 
 riorate — in other words, they get lazy, and they are 
 always inventing something or other to get shut of 
 work. Now, a nigger has none of that inventive 
 faculty, and you get work out of him by hard knocks 
 and clumsiness." 
 
 " But the Germans," I remarked, " are industrious 
 w^orkers ?" 
 
 " Yes," he said, " but you must get them that don't 
 know much — ^the greener the better — one that doesn't 
 understand the English language, and can't learn 
 more than what you want him to do, is the best !" 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 233 
 
 SYSTEM OF FARMING. 
 
 Two or three miles from Fairfax Court House, on 
 the road to Centreville, Virginia, I met a man and a 
 boy carrying pails of water. I found he was a far- 
 mer, and asked how many bushels they could raise to 
 an acre. He said an average crop was five or six 
 barrels. (They estimate by barrels here — a barrel 
 is five bushels.) 
 
 " What is the average price of land between here 
 and Centreville ?" 
 
 " Wall," he drawled out, " say between fifteen and 
 thirty dollars per acre." 
 
 I asked him what system of cultivation they 
 adopted here. 
 
 " Wall, we take a crop of wheat, say, or oats, and 
 then sow it with clover, and let it lay two or three 
 years." 
 
 I asked him if they had never tried the system of 
 rotation of crops and manuring. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Do all cultivate in the way you describe ?" 
 
 " Yes," said he, " most of them ; they all ought to, 
 but some take a crop every year, and run the land 
 out. That has been the system in these parts until 
 quite recently — within seven or eight years." 
 
 " Who introduced the change ?" 
 
 "The Northern people," he said. "Since they 
 came, they have carried up and restored a great 
 deal of land, and taught us to do it, too." 
 
 "There are a good many ISTorthern people coming 
 in here — are there not ?" I asked him. 
 
 " No," he answered, " not so many buyers as there 
 used to be." 
 
234: THE ROVING EDITOE 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Because a great many 's sold out, and gone back 
 agin." 
 
 He gave the same reason as the stranger at the 
 hotel. 
 
 The country in this section (I am within a 
 mile of the western line of the county) is beautiful 
 in most parts, and apparently very fertile. All that 
 it needs is men who know how to till the soil, with- 
 out exhausting its strength. Centreville is a hamlet 
 of twenty or thirty houses. As I entered it, yester- 
 day afternoon, half-a-dozen negroes were playing at 
 ball — Sunday is their holiday — and over twenty 
 w^hite loafers were congregated in different parts of 
 the place. Of their domestic industry I saw not the 
 faintest indication, excepting only several very hand- 
 some mulatto women and children. Every house in 
 the hamlet looks as if it could recollect E'oah, when 
 he was a sucking child, and had been inhabited by 
 ladies of the Mrs. McClarty tribe from time imme- 
 morial. 
 
 On my way from Centreville hither, I saw rje in 
 the ear. The woods look very beautiful. 
 
 AMALGAMATION. 
 
 The abolitionists, it is well known in Congress — 1 
 mean in the Democratic ranks — are, all of them, 
 negro-worshippers and amalgamationists. If they 
 alone, or chiefly, are the fathers of mulattoes, Fairfax 
 county, Henrietta county, and every part of Virginia 
 I have visited, are infested with these dangerous 
 inhabitants. The number of semi-black cliildren, 
 men and women, that one meets with here, is extra- 
 ■^ordinary. 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 235 
 
 Colored cliildren and white children play together 
 in the street — openly in the light of day — and they 
 associate without concealment in the house ; whites 
 and blacks talk together, walk together, ride to- 
 gether, as if they were men and brothers. 
 
 Why is Governor Wise so silent on this dangerous 
 indication of the amalgamation and equalization- 
 ward tendency of Southern society ? 
 
 What say our ]N"orthern Democracy to these negro- 
 fraternizing Southern brethren ? 
 
 I pause for a reply. 
 
V. 
 
 TEINCE WILLIAM COUNTY. 
 
 Warrentox, Fauquier County, May^ 18. — I have 
 walked, to-day, across Prince William county, on 
 the turnpike road, from Centreville to "VYarrenton. 
 Prince William county is a small one. It has a pop- 
 ulation of over 5,000 whites, 2,500 slaves, and 550 
 free negroes. It has a thousand dwellings. Its an- 
 nual educational income is $695 ! Only 316 pupils 
 attend the public schools. Seven hundred and 
 eighty-four white adults can neither read nor write, 
 and nearly two thousand youths, between five and 
 twenty years of age, are in the some benighted state 
 of ignorance. The county, however, has church ac- 
 commodations for nearly five thousand souls. It is 
 evident, therefore, that although the people's minds 
 must be dark, their souls have a very fair chance for 
 salvation. That 's a great comfort. 
 
 The county is divided into 579 farms, valued, with 
 improvements and implements, at $1,499,886 ; and 
 containing 104,421 acres of improved, and 72,343 
 acres of unimproved land. It produced, when the 
 last census was taken, 57,728 bushels of wheat, 
 59,549 of rye and oats, 161,248 of Indian corn ; and 
 10,374 of Irish and sweet potatoes; 96,679 lbs. of 
 
 23G 
 
THE EOVING EDITOK. 237 
 
 butter and 2306 tons of liaj, were the principal ad- 
 ditional items in tlie list. 
 So far Mr. Gradgrind. 
 
 A FREE COLORED FARMER. 
 
 Tlie first person I met, after crossing the line, was 
 a hearty old man of color, who was engaged in re- 
 pairing his neighbor's fence. Yankee-like, the first 
 sentence I nttered, on seeing him, was an interroga- 
 tion. I asked him the price of land. He said that 
 a neighbor had recently bought a farm, adjoining his 
 place, for $26 an acre. He wouldn't swap his even, 
 no how, either as buyer or seller. If I wanted to 
 buy, however, he would sell me his farm, of one 
 hundred and fifty acres of excellent land, for $20 an 
 acre. 
 
 I asked him if he was a free man, and why he 
 wanted to selh He said — Yes, he w^as a free man. 
 His father w^as one of nine hundred and ninety -nine 
 slaves, once the property of Mr. Carter, who liberated 
 every one of them, and secured to them the right to 
 remain in the county. Slaves who are freed now, he 
 added, have to leave the State, or go to AYashington 
 and remain there a year to get their papers. His 
 w ife was there now. Her year was almost out, and 
 he intended to go after her as soon as it expired. 
 
 I asked if she was a slave, or had he bought her. 
 He said she had been a slave, but her master freed 
 her by his will. The master was an old bachelor — 
 never married — but had a lot of children by a black 
 woman. His wife was one of these children. He 
 offered him five hundred dollars for her when she. 
 was quite young, but he said he would never sell her 
 — he knew what stock slie came from — but would 
 
238 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 liberate her when he died. On this promise the rela- 
 tor married her, and had several children. Mean- 
 while her mother refused any longer to cohabit with 
 the bachelor, and, to nse the colored man's phrase, he 
 took up with an out w^oman — a wdiite woman — but he 
 did not marry her. She, also, bore him several chil- 
 dren. On his death, he left the narrator's wife and 
 all her daughters free, but bequeathed her two sons 
 — his grand-children — " to this out woman," with the 
 l)roviso that'she should sell them to their father if he 
 wanted to purchase his (and the testator's) ow^n flesh 
 and blood. The " out woman," however, sold them 
 to the traders, who handed them over to their father 
 in consideration of eighteen hundred dollars, one 
 thousand of which had already been paid. 
 
 The old man said he wanted to sell his form in or- 
 der to raise the balance, and to pay some other debts, 
 now due, that he had recently incurred. 
 
 I went U23 to his farm and looked over it. It is very 
 good soil, indeed ; commands a beautiful prospect, 
 and is cultivated as well as Virginians know how. 
 
 I asked him if there were many ITortherners set- 
 tled here ? " Yes," he added, " a good many ;" and 
 pointed out the farm of one gentleman from N'ew 
 Jersey. He said the J^ortherners, somehow, made 
 more money, raised better crops, and worked less to 
 do it, than " we Yirginians." Somehow^, he thought, 
 after they were here awhile, they seemed to get 
 an idee of the land, and make it do 'sactly as they 
 wanted to. The Northerners didn't own slaves. 
 They said slaves cost too much. You buy one, pay 
 a thousand dollars for him ; he goes off, and fights or 
 sprees, and the first thing you know your thousand 
 dollar 's dead !" 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 230 
 
 The old man did not think himself that slave labor 
 paid, and believed it would be better for the white 
 men, as well as the negro, if slavery was instantly 
 and everywhere abolished. 
 
 I was too tired, when I talked with him, to report 
 his remarks stenographically, as I generally do. I 
 regret it now, for his idiom was exceedingly unique 
 and humorous. If Mrs. Partington ever meets him 
 she will have to hide her diminished head forever. 
 
 IGNORANCE. 
 
 The ignorance of both the poor whites and blacks 
 is almost incredible ; even to the traveller who has 
 daily and astonishing evidences of it. 1 have some- 
 times asked negroes who have lived near a village all 
 their life, if they knew what its population w^as ; and 
 they could not understand what population meant 
 nor — when explained to them — could they answer 
 my question. Like Socrates, they seemed " only to 
 know that they knew nothing." 
 
 I asked an Irish woman and some poor whites, 
 where a railroad — which passed by their cabins — ter- 
 minated. They could not tell me. It was an uncom- 
 pleted line, I afterwards found — this was in Fairfax 
 county — which had been stopped for want of funds, 
 although intersecting a very fertile region, and run- 
 ning into the mining districts. 
 
 " Sir," said a gentleman in conversation on this 
 subject, "if the road to heaven w^ent by their front 
 door, they coidd n't tell you the way there to 
 save themselves from !" 
 
240 THE ROVING EDITOK 
 
 NEGEO-DKIVING OF HOUSES. 
 
 The country is less cultivated — along the turnpike, 
 at least — wood is more plentiful, the fields far larger, 
 and the scenery less beautiful, the nearer you ap- 
 proach to Fauquier county. 
 
 The first place I came to was a hamlet of a dozen 
 houses, called Gainesville, on the Manassas Gap Rail- 
 road, where I asked the price of land of a workman 
 in a field close by. Another white man and a negro 
 woman were w^orking w^ith him. He said, that in 
 this part of the country, land ranged from eight to 
 twenty-five dollars an acre, but advised me, if 1 
 wanted to buy, to go further back into the country. 
 
 " How many bushels of corn do you raise to an 
 acre ?" 
 
 " Well, we don't average more than three barrels 
 — nor that often." (Fifteen bushels.) 
 
 " Are there many northern people settled round 
 here?" 
 
 " E'o, sir. Lots down at Brents ville, thougli." 
 Let the traveller go to Brentsville, and he will find 
 land higher, and crops more abundant there. So 
 much for free labor. 
 
 It began to rain heavily, and I was induced to 
 hasten my steps. 
 
 I soon overtook a w^agon drawn by six horses, and 
 driven by a negro. I never saw such a wagon in my 
 life before. It was twenty feet long, broad and very 
 deep. It was covered with a sailcloth, which partly 
 protected it, and was higher at both ends than at the 
 middle. 
 
 I got into the wagon first, and then into a talk 
 with the negro. 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 241 
 
 111 Faiiquier county, he informed me, "most all 
 de farms was big again as in Prince William ; most 
 on tbem was seven, eight or nine hundred acres." 
 
 His master holds eighteen slaves. " Our farm," 
 as he proudly styled his master's plantation, " had 
 seven hundred acres. They raised four or £.ve hun- 
 dred barrels of corn and two thousand bushels of 
 wheat last year. Farms," he said, " were getting 
 very high in ole Fauquer county. Mass'r bought 
 forty acre las' year and he paid forty dollars an 
 acre." 
 
 lie rode the near horse, and held a heavy cowhide 
 in his hand, with which, from time to time, he lashed 
 the leaders, as barbarous drivers lash oxen w^hen at 
 work. Whenever Ave came to a hill, especially if it 
 was very steep, he dismounted, lashed the horses 
 with all his strength, varying his performances by 
 picking up stones, none of them smaller than half a 
 brick, and throwing them with all his force, at the 
 horses' legs. He seldom missed. 
 
 The wagon was laden with two tons of plaster in 
 sacks. 
 
 This is a fair specimen of the style in which slaves 
 treat stock. 
 
 Thus it is that wrong begets wrong, and that injus- 
 tice is unprofitable as well as unrighteous. 
 
 The wagon turned off the turnpike about three 
 miles from Warrenton. We had passed through 
 two or three hamlets — 'New Baltimore and Buckland 
 I remember — but they did not afford anything 
 worthy of notice. 
 
 I walked, through a drenching rain, to AYarrenton, 
 which is a pleasant country village. In entering it, I 
 asked for the best hotel. I was directed down the 
 
 11 
 
 ^ 
 
24:2 THE KOVING EDITOK 
 
 street. On looking up at the swinging sign, I read, 
 with astonishment, this horrible announcement, 
 equally laconic as impious and improj^er : 
 
 WARREN 
 
 GREEN 
 H EL. 
 
 ]N"othing daunted, I ventured, Avitli perfect reck- 
 lessness — or in the spirit of the Six Hundred of Bala- 
 klava — into the very mouth — the open door-w^ay — of 
 this terrestrial " H EL." Astonished to find a room 
 in it without a Jire, I instantly ordered one, " regard- 
 less of consequences." And here I am, for once, in a 
 very snug old room, wdtli a blazing w^ood fire, as 
 comfortable as a Boston traveller can be, at so great 
 a distance from the old folks to hum and the melli- 
 fluous nasal melody of 'New England pronunciation. 
 
 KicuMOND, 3fay 23. — Warrenton is a pleasant lit- 
 tle village, situated in the centre of Fauquier county. 
 I arrived there late in the afternoon, tired, drenched 
 and muddy, and left by the early train on the follow- 
 ing morning. It was still raining w^hen I took my 
 departure ; so I had no time to collect statistics of 
 the price ol land, or any incidents of social life and 
 country customs. I had a talk with a Virginian at 
 the hotel on politics, and Eli Thayer's scheme of 
 colonization. He said that in Eastern Virginia, in 
 consequence of the tactics of politicians and the igno- 
 rance of the country editors — who took for granted 
 
IX VIRGINIA. 2-13 
 
 wliatcvcr figures or opinions tlieir leaders advanced — 
 Mr. Tliajer would probably meet with resistance at 
 the outset ; but, in Western Virginia, where slavery 
 was weak, and a free soil feeling had long been pre- 
 dominant, he would be welcomed, he believed, with 
 open arms, and realize his most sanguine hopes of 
 pecuniary success, if the aifairs of the organization 
 should be managed by shrewd and experienced busi- 
 ness men. 
 
 He said that white labor was becoming so scarce 
 and high, that every emigration from the North was 
 felt to be a blessing to the State. In the present 
 canvass, he added, candidates were openly advocat- 
 ing tlie repeal of the law of expatriation against free- 
 men of color. This was done, I gleaned, from no 
 sense of justice, but owing solely to the scarcity of 
 labor. 
 
 We waited at the junction nearly half an hour 
 before the train from Alexandria came uj). When I 
 entered these cars, I found myself entirely blockaded, 
 on every side, with gentlemen in black suits and 
 snowy white cravats. It was a delegation of clergy- 
 men to a Denominational Convention. " A man is 
 known by the company he keeps." Fearing to be 
 mistaken for a wolf in lamb's clothing — in other 
 words, for a pro-slavery divine — I got out at Gor- 
 donstown, and went on to Charlottesville ; instead, as 
 I intended, of going to Richmond, by the nearest 
 route and in the quickest time. 
 
 CIIAKLOTTESVILLE. 
 
 An accident detained me at Charlottesville two 
 days. It is situated in a charming valley — fertile, 
 wooded, watered well — with cultivated hills rising 
 
2M THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 from the j^lain, and snow-capped mistj mountains 
 in the western background. The village, too, is the 
 prettiest, it is said, and one of the most thriving in 
 Virginia. The College founded by Jefferson is situ- 
 ated there. It rained almost incessantly all the time 
 I was there. The soil is exclusively a red stiff clay, 
 w^hich, when the rain subsided for an hour, rendered 
 walking exceedingly unpleasant to attempt, and im- 
 possible when tried. 
 
 Yesterday I left the village for Richmond — dis- 
 tance, about ninety miles. The fare is four dollars, 
 and the time six hours. We passed miles adjoining 
 miles of worn out land, producing only hedge broom, 
 stunted shrubbery and grass, w^hen, by scientific 
 culture and a little labor, it might be heavy with 
 tobacco or the cereal grains. There is a great field 
 open here for JS'orthern intelligence and Northern 
 industry. 
 
VI. 
 
 K I C II M O N D . 
 
 Richmond, 2£ay 24. — Charleston excepted, and 
 also, perhaps, Montgomery in Alabama, " Rome- 
 liilled Richmond " is the most charming in sitnation ^ 
 or in outside aspect, of all the Southern cities that I 
 have ever visited. 
 
 It is a city of over 20,000 inhabitants — the politi- 
 cal, commercial, and social metropolis of the State — 
 well laid out, beautifully shaded, studded with little 
 gardens — ^lias several factories, good hotels, a multi- 
 plicity of churches, a theatre, five daily papers, a 
 great number of aristocratic streets, with large, fashion- 
 able, but not sumptuous residences ; and, to crown 
 all, and over and above all, it has four or ^yq negro 
 pens and negro auction-rooms. 
 
 A SLAVE SALE. 
 
 I saw a slave sale to-day. The advertisement sub- 
 joined, announcing it, appeared in the Richmond 
 Enqidrer and Bichmond Examiner. 
 
 AUCTION SALES. 
 
 THIS DAY, 
 
 BY DICKINSON, HILL & CO., Auctioneers. 
 
 -| A NCG ROES.— Will be sold by us, this morning at 10 
 ■*~^ o'clock, 10 likely negroes, 
 may 24 DICKINSON, HILL & CO , Aucts. 
 
 245 
 
246 
 
 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 Al'CTlON SALES. 
 
 BY rULLIAM & DAVIS, Auctioneers. 
 
 8 NEGROES.— This day, at 10 o'clock, we will sell 8 likely 
 negroes, Men, Coys, and Girls. 
 
 may 24. 
 
 PULLIAM & DAVIS, Aucts. 
 
 Dickinson, Hill & Company, body-sellers and body- 
 bu^^ers, "subject only to tlie Constitution," carry on 
 their neftirious business in Wall street — I believe its 
 name is — within pistol shot of the capitol of Yirginia 
 and its executive mansion. Near their auction-room, 
 on the opposite side of the street, is the office of 
 another person engaged in the same inhuman traffic, 
 who has painted, in bold Roman letters, on a sign- 
 board over the door : 
 
 
 E. A. G 
 
 CLOPTON, 
 
 
 
 AGENT, 
 
 
 For 
 
 Hiring 
 
 Out Neg 
 
 AND 
 
 roes, 
 
 
 Renting 
 
 Out Houses. 
 
 
 Both negroes and houses, by the laws of Yirginia, 
 are " held, adjudged and reputed " to be property ! 
 This is Southern Democracy ! 
 
 At ten o'clock there was a crowd of men around 
 the door of the auction-room, but it was nearly eleven 
 when a mulatto man came out, and vociferously 
 shouted — "This way, gentlemen, this way — sale's 
 'bout to beirin — sale 's 'bout to bei>'in — s^entlemen 
 wishin' to buy, please step into the room inside." 
 
 I entered the auction-room. It is a long, damp. 
 
IX viKGirrLA. 247 
 
 dirtj-looking room, with a low, rougli-timbered ceil- 
 ing, and suj^ported, in. the centre, by two w^ooden 
 pillars, square, filthy, rough-hewed, and, I assure 
 you, not a little wdiittled. At the further end of it, 
 a small apartment was partitioned off, with unpainted 
 pine boards, and the breadth which it did not cover 
 was used as a counting-room, divided from the larger 
 one by a blue painted paling. 
 
 The walls of the auction-room were profusely deco- 
 rated with tobacco stains, which, by their form, num- 
 ber and variety, indicated that they had been hastily 
 ejected from the human mouth — sometimes, by poets, 
 styled divine. Handbills, which plainly showed that 
 — " ^egro clothing," " Servants' wear," " l^egro 
 blankets," and other articles of servile apparel, were 
 for sale by various merchants in town, served, with 
 the tobacco stains, to render the walls exceedingly 
 attractive to a Northern eye. Rough, and roughly 
 used pine forms extended around the room, and 
 partly into the body of it, too. In the centre, four 
 steps high, is a platform — a Southern platform, a 
 Democratic platform, a State Hights platform — where 
 men, women, children, and nnweaned babes are daily 
 sold, by Dickinson, Hill & Co., " for cash," or " on 
 time," to the highest bidder. 
 
 I saw a number of men enter the inner room, and 
 quietly followed them, nnnoticed. The slaves — the 
 males — were there. What do you think, my conser- 
 vative reader, is the object of the little room? I will 
 tell you what was done. The slaves were stripped 
 naked, and carefully examined, as horses are — every 
 part of their body, from tlieir crown to their feet, 
 was rigorously scrutinized by the gallant chivalry 
 who intended to buy them. I saw one unfortunate 
 
248 thp: eoving editor 
 
 slave examined in tliis waj, but did not care to see 
 the mean, cowardly and disgusting act performed on 
 any other. 
 
 After a time they were brought out. The auction- 
 eer — a short, thick-set, gross-eyed, dark, and fleshy 
 fellow — who w^as dressed in black, opened the sale 
 by oiFering a boy of twelve or fourteen years of 
 age. 
 
 " Gentlemen," — he said, in accents that seemed to 
 be very greasy — " I offer you this boy ; he is sound 
 and healthy, and title w^arranted good — What d' ye 
 offer, gentlemen ?" 
 
 " Eight hundred dollars." 
 
 " Eight hundred dollars bid — eight hundred dol- 
 lars — (he talked very fast) — eight hundred dollars — 
 eight hundred dollars — eight hundred and fifty — 
 thank you — eight hundred and fifty dollars bid — 
 eight"— 
 
 " Nine hundred." 
 
 " I^ine hundred dollars bid — nine hundred dollars 
 — ^nine hundred dollars — nine hundred dollars — g-en- 
 tlemen, he 's a first-rate boy" — 
 
 " Come down here," said the mulatto, who is Dick- 
 inson's slave, I believe, " come down." 
 
 The boy came down. 
 
 " Please stand out of the w\^y, gentlemen," cried 
 the mulatto, to a number of men who stood between 
 the platform and the counting-room. 
 
 They did so. 
 
 " Now 3^ou w^alk along to the wall," said the slave 
 to the other article of commerce — "now hold up 
 your head and walk pert.^^ 
 
 The boy did as he was directed. 
 
 "Quick — come — pert — only there already? — 
 
IN VIKGINIA. 249 
 
 pert!" jerked ont the mulatto, to hasten the boy's 
 steps. 
 
 The crowd looked on attentively, especially those 
 who had bid. He mounted the President — I mean 
 the platform — again, and the bidding was resumed 
 with greater activity. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said the body-seller, "you see 
 he 's a likely boy — how much do you bid?" 
 
 " Ten," said a voice. 
 
 " I^^ine hundred and ten dollars bid — nine hundred 
 and ten — nine hundred and ten — nine hundred and 
 TEN — nine hundred and ten — nine hundred and ten 
 dollars bid — nine hundred and ten" — 
 
 "Twenty." 
 
 " Nine hundred and twenty dollars bid — nine hun- 
 dred and twenty dollars — nine thirty — nine hundred 
 and thirty dollars — nine hundred and forty — nine 
 forty 's bid — nine hundred and forty dollars — nine 
 forty — nine forty — nine fifty — nine fifty — nine hun- 
 dred and fifty — ^nine hundred and fifty — nine hun- 
 dred and fifty — nine hundred and fifty — nine hund- 
 dred and fifty dollars — nine hundred and sixty — 
 nine hundred and sixty dollars." 
 
 " Seventy," said a voice. 
 
 " Nine hundred and seventy dollars — nine hundred 
 and seventy dollars " 
 
 " Five." 
 
 " Nine hundred and seventy-five dollars," said the 
 auctioneer. 
 
 " lie 's an uncommon likely boy," chimed the auc- 
 tioneer's mulatto. 
 
 A chivalrous Virginian mounted the steps of the 
 platform. " Open your mouth," he said. The Article 
 
 11* 
 
250 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 opened its moutli, and displayed a beautiful, pearly 
 set of teeth. 
 
 " You all sound ?" asked the white. 
 
 " Yes, massa," said the boy. 
 
 " ISTine eighty," said the white. 
 
 " Five," said another, wdio stood beside him. 
 
 " Ninety," said the other white. 
 
 "Eine hundred and ninety," exclaimed the auc- 
 tioneer — "nine hundred and ninety dollars — nine 
 hundred and ninety dollars " 
 
 " D — n it," said a man at my side, '' how niggers 
 has riz." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said his old white-haired companion, 
 " I tell you, if a man buys niggers now, he has to 
 pay for them. That's about the amount of it." 
 
 " Nine hundred and ninety dollars — all done at 
 nine hundred and ninety dollars ? — nine hundred — 
 and — nine-ty dollars — go-ing at nine — hundred and 
 nine-ty dollars — and — gone — if no one bids — nine 
 hundred and ninety dollars — once — nine hundred 
 and ninety, a-n-d " 
 
 He looked round and round in every direction, but 
 no one moved, and he plaintively added — 
 
 "Gone!" 
 
 This boy was one of those unfortunate children who 
 neber was born, but are raised by the speculators, or 
 are the offspring of illicit connections between the 
 Saxon and African races. He was of a brown com- 
 plexion — about one-third wdiite blood. He was 
 dressed in a small check calico trowsers, and a jac- 
 ket of a grey color. The whole suit would not cost 
 more than three dollars ; but it was new, clean and 
 looked very tidy. 
 
 The next Article disposed of was a young man, of 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 251 
 
 similar complexion, twenty years old, muscular, 
 witli an energetic and intelligent expression. One 
 thousand dollars was tlie first bid made. He was 
 sold to "Jones & Slater," who are forwarding agents, 
 I was told, of animated merchandise to 'New Orleans. 
 I hunted up their oJ3ice after I left the auction-room. 
 It was shut. It is situated in the congenial neighbor- 
 hood of a cluster of disreputable houses. 
 
 The third article offered was a very black, low- 
 browed, short, brutal looking negro, for whom nine 
 hundred dollars only w^as bid. He w^as not sold. So 
 also with several others. 
 
 A woman, with a child at her breast, and a 
 daughter, seven years old, or thereabouts, at her side, 
 mounted the steps of the platform. 
 
 The other sales did not excite my indignation more 
 than the description of such a scene would have done ; 
 certainly — had I never visited a slave auction-room 
 before — a great deal less than some narratives w^ould 
 have done. These men and boy were too brutal in 
 their natures to arouse my sympathies. Besides, they 
 w^ere men, and could escape by death or flight, or 
 insurrection ; and it is a man's duty, I hold — every 
 man's duty — to be free at every hazard or by any 
 means. 
 
 But the poor black mother — with her nearly white 
 babe — with the anxiety of an uncertain future among 
 brutal men before her — and the young girl, too, now 
 so innocent, but predestined by the nature of slavery 
 to a life of hard labor and involuntary prostitution — 
 I would have been either less than a man, or more, 
 to have looked on stoically or with indifference, as 
 she and her little ones were sold. 
 
 Twelve hundred and fifty dollars were bid for her. 
 
252 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 but she was not sold. She was worth, a Yirginian tokl 
 me, " fifteen hundred doUars of any man's money." 
 I do n't doubt it. The Christian Theology tells us 
 that she was once, vile and lowly as she may be, 
 deemed worthy of an infinitely greater price than 
 that. She was " warranted sound and healthy," with 
 the exception of a female complaint, to which mothers 
 are occasionally subject, the name and nature of 
 which was unblushingly stated. 
 
 She was taken into the inner room, after the bid- 
 ding commenced, and there indecently '•'examined'''^ 
 in the presence of a dozen or fifteen brutal men. I 
 did not go in, but was told, by a spectator, coolly, 
 that " they 'd examined her," and the brutal remarks 
 and licentious looks of the creatures when they came 
 out, was evidence enough that he liad spoken the 
 truth. 
 
 The mother's breast heaved, and her eye anxiously 
 wandered from one bidder to another, as the sale was 
 going on. She seemed relieved when it was over — 
 but it was only the heart-aching relief of suspense. 
 
 A young girl, of twenty years or thereabouts, was 
 the next commodity put up. Her right hand was 
 entirely useless — " dead," as she aptly called it. One 
 finger had been cut off by a doctor, and the auction- 
 eer stated that she herself chopped off the other 
 finger — ^lier forefinger — because it hurt her, and she 
 thought that to cut it off would cure it. This remark 
 raised a laugh among the crowd. I looked at her, 
 and expected to see a stupid-looking creature, low 
 browed and sensual in appearance; but was sur- 
 prised, instead, to see a woman with an eye which 
 reminded me of Margaret Gardiner (whom I visited 
 in Cincinnati), but more resolute, intelligent and im- 
 
IN VIRGINIA. 253 
 
 pulsive. She was perfectly black ; but her eye was 
 Saxon, if by Saxon we mean a hell-clefying courage, 
 which neither death nor the devil can terrify. It 
 was an eye that will never die in a slave's socket, or 
 never die a natural death in so unworthy an abode. 
 
 "Didn't you cut your finger off," asked a man, 
 " kase you was mad ?" 
 
 She looked at him quietly, but with a glance of 
 contempt, and said : 
 
 " Ko, you see it was a sort o' sore, and I thought 
 it would be better to cut it off than be plagued 
 with it." 
 
 Several persons around me expressed the opinion 
 tliat she had done it willfully, " to spite her master 
 or mistress, or to keep her from being sold down 
 South." 
 
 I do not doubt it. 
 
 A heroic act of this kind was once publicly per- 
 formed, many years ago, in the city of St. Louis. It 
 was witnessed by gentlemen still living there, one of 
 whom — now an ardent Emancipationist — narrated 
 the circumstance to me. 
 
 Tliese scenes occurred, not in Russia or Austria, or 
 in avowedly despotic countries, but in the United 
 States of Ame^rica, which we are so fond of eulogiz- 
 ing as the chosen land of liberty ! 
 
 LiBEETY ! 
 
 " Oh Liberty ! what outrages are committed in 
 thy name !" 
 
 These verses, penned in Richmond after a slave 
 sale, by a personal friend of the present writer, 
 although bitter, sectional, and fanatical, when viewed 
 from a conservative position, more faithfully and 
 graphically than any poetry that I have ever read, 
 
254 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 express the feelings of a man of compassionate 
 and impulsive natm-e, when witnessing such wicked 
 and revolting commercial transactions as the public 
 auction of immortal human beings : 
 
 A CURSE ON VIRGINIA. 
 
 Curses on you, foul Virginia, 
 
 Stony-hearted whore ! 
 May the plagues that swept o'er Egypt — 
 
 Seven — and seventy more, 
 Desolate your homes and hearths, 
 
 Devastate your fields, 
 Send ten deaths for every pang-birth 
 Womb of Avife or creature yields : 
 May fever gaunt. 
 Protracted want, 
 Hurl your sons beneath the sod. 
 Send your bondmen back to God ! 
 From your own cup, 
 Soon may you sup. 
 The bitter draught you give to others — 
 Your negro sons and negro brothers ! 
 Soon may they rise. 
 As did your sires. 
 And light up fires. 
 Which not by Wise, 
 Nor any despot shall be quenched ; 
 
 Not till Black Samson, dumb and bound, 
 Shall raze each slave-pen to the ground, 
 Till States with slavers' blood are drenched. 
 
IN MY SANCTUM 
 
 vi 
 
 GENERAL RESULTS, 
 
 I DID not originally visit the Slave States for the 
 purpose of writing a book. Hence the preceding 
 notes of travel are much less minute than they would 
 otherwise have been made. I shall make yet another 
 journey South — Doion the Mississijpjpi j which (if the 
 sale of this volume shall warrant it) I shall narrate at 
 much greater length, and make more comprehensive 
 and various — relating as well the effects of slavery 
 on agriculture, trade and education, as on the morals 
 of the subjugated people, and the humanity of the 
 ruling race. 
 
 Let me here subjoin the general results and mid- 
 cellancous incidents of my travels and' conversations, 
 without any especial regard to rhetorical order oi 
 intrinsic importance of topic. 
 
 I. I do not believe that the progress of physical 
 science, the extension of railroads, or the exhausting 
 etfects of involuntary labor, will ever induce or com- 
 pel the peaceful abolition of American slavery. 
 
 255 
 
256 THE EOVING EDITOK 
 
 Worn out lands will be recuperated by scientific 
 skill, by guano, rotation of crops, tlie steam plough, 
 and the knowledge — now rapidly diffusing — of agri- 
 cultural chemistry. Railroads raise both the price 
 and value of slave labor, by rapidly conveying the 
 rural products of it, to the Northern and European 
 markets. Slave labor, although detrimental to the 
 State, is profitable to the individual holders of human 
 " property." Hence, this powerful class of criminals 
 will ever oppose its speedy extinction. I do not be- 
 lieve, also, that — unless conducted on a gigantic 
 scale — the emigration of free white laborers will 
 ever extinguish slavery in any Southern State. I 
 except Missouri, where the active interference of the 
 abolitionists would nndoubtcdly prolong the exist- 
 ence of bondage ; but where, owing to its peculiar 
 geographical position, slavery will soon be drowned 
 by " the advancing and increasing tide of E'orthern 
 emigration." [N'either will the mere prevention of 
 the extension of slavery kill it. Within its present 
 limits, it may live a thousand years. There is land 
 enough to support the present races, and their in- 
 crease, for that length of time there. Unless we 
 strike a blow for the slaves — as Lafayette and his 
 Frenchmen did for the revolutionary sires — or unless 
 they strike a blow for themselves, as the negroes of 
 Jamaica and Ilayti, to their innnortal honor, did — 
 American slavery has a long and devastating future 
 before it, in which, by the stern necessities of its 
 nature, Freedom or the Union must crouch and die 
 beneath its potent sceptre of death and desolation. 
 
 n. The field negroes, as a class, are coarse, filthy, 
 brutal, and lascivious; liars, parasites, hypocrites, 
 and thieves; without self-respect, religious aspira- 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 257 
 
 tions, or the nobler traits which characterize human- 
 ity. They are ahnost as degraded intellectually as 
 the lower hordes of inland Irish, or the indolent 
 semi-civilized North American Indians; or the less 
 than human white-skinned vermin who fester in the 
 Five Points cellars, the North street saloons, or the 
 dancino* houses and levee of New Orleans or Charles- 
 ton. Not so vile, however, as the rabble of the 
 Platte Pegion, who distinguished themselves as the 
 champions of the South in Kansas. Morally, they 
 are on a level with the whites around them. Tlie 
 slaveholder steals their labor, rights and children ; 
 they steal his chickens, hogs and vegetables. They 
 often must lie, or submit to be whipped. Truth, at 
 such a price — they seem to think — ib' far too precious 
 to be wasted on white folks. They are necessarily 
 extremely filthy ; for their cabins are dirty, small 
 and uncomfortable ; and they have neither the time 
 nor the conveniences to keep them clean. Working 
 from morn till night in the fields, at the hardest of 
 hard labor, under a sultry sun, is quite enough for 
 the poor women to do — especially as they have also to 
 cook their provisions — without spending their leisure 
 hours in " tidying up " their miserable and unhome- 
 like huts. The laws forbidding the acquisition of 
 knowledge, and the fact that slavery and intelligence 
 are incompatible, keep them, as nearly as possible, as 
 ignorant and degraded as the quadrupeds of the fields. 
 Chastity is a virtue which, in the South, is entirely 
 monopolized by the ladies of the ruling race. Eveiy 
 slave negress is a courtesan. Except one per cent, of 
 them, and you make ample deduction. I have talked 
 on this subject with hundreds of young men in differ- 
 ent Soiitlicrn cities, and the result of my observations 
 
258 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 and inruruuition, is a firmly settled conviction that 
 not one per cent, of tlie native male whites in the 
 South arrive at the age of manhood morally nncon- 
 taminated by the influences of slavery. I do not 
 believe that ten per cent, of the native white males 
 reach the age oi fourteen w^ithout carnal knowledge 
 of the slaves. Married men are not one whit better 
 than their bachelor brethren. A Southern lady 
 bears testimony to this fact : 
 
 "This subject demands the attention, not only of the reli- 
 gious population, but of statesmen and law-makers. It is one 
 great evil hanging over the Southern Slave States, destroying 
 domestic happiness, and the peace of thousands. It is summed 
 up in a single word — amalgamation. This, and this only, causes 
 the vast extent of ignorance, degradation and crime, that lies like 
 a black cloud over the whole South. And the practice is more 
 general than even the Southerners are willing to allow. Neither 
 is it to be found only in the lower order of the white popula- 
 tion. It pervades the entire society. Its followers are to be 
 found among all ranks, occupations and professions. The white 
 mothers and daughters of the South have suffered under it for 
 years — have seen their dearest affections trampled upon — their 
 hopes of domestic happiness destroyed, and their future lives 
 embittered, even to agony, by those who should be all in all to 
 them, as husbands, sons, and brothers, I cannot use too strong 
 language in reference to this subject, for I know that it will 
 meet with a heartfelt response from every Southern woman." 
 
 This lady is Mrs. Douglas, a native of Virginia, 
 and a pro-slavery w^oman, who was imprisoned in a 
 common jail at Norfolk, for the heinous crime of 
 teachino; free colored children to read the AYord 
 OF God ! At the time of the He volution, pure blacks 
 were everywhere to be seen ; now they are becom- 
 ing, year by year, more and more uncommon. Where 
 do they go to ? The white boys know — the census 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 259 
 
 of mulattoes tells! I suppose it is indecorous to 
 speak so plainly on so delicate a subject; but if the 
 report is revoltino^, liow mucli more appaling must 
 be the crime itself? 
 
 I have given instances enough to show that decep- 
 tion is the natural result of slavery. Of course, as 
 the slaves are entirely at the mercy of the whites, 
 they are forced to be parasites and hypocrites in 
 their intercourse with them. And how can the poor 
 people have self-respect? "I'se only a nigger" is 
 the first note they are taught in the sad funereal dirge 
 of their existence. It is repeated in ten thousand 
 forms, and in every variety of method, from the time 
 they are born till they draw their last breath. How 
 can they respect themselves, when they know that 
 their mothers are ranked with the beasts that perish 
 — sold, exchanged, bought, forced to beget children, 
 as cows and sheep are bartered and reared for breed- 
 ing purposes? 
 
 As for the religious negroes — " the pious slaves " — 
 I have no patience with the blasphemous and infer- 
 nal ingenuity which breeds and preserves these un- 
 fortunate creatures. Dr. Johnson praised the youth, 
 who, having seduced a young girl in a fit of animal 
 excitement, on being asked by her, after the fact, 
 " Have we not done wrong ?" promptly replied, 
 " Yes." " For," he said, " although I ravished her 
 body, I was not so bad as to w^isli to ravish her mind." 
 Our slavemasters are not so generous. The perpe- 
 trators of the most tyrannical despotism that the 
 world ever saw, still, Jiot content with degrading the 
 body of their bondmen into real estate, they seek, 
 by the same priestly machinery that other tyrants 
 have found so ciTectivc, to enslave their souls also — 
 
2G0 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 a task which they tiy to make the more easy by the 
 ignorance in which they assiduously keep them. I 
 have investigated the character of too many of the 
 " pious negroes," to feel any respect either for their 
 religion or their teachers. Church membership does 
 not prevent fornication, bigamy, adultery, lying, 
 theft, or hypocrisy. It is a cloak, in nine cases out 
 of ten, which the slaves find convenient to' wear ; and, 
 in the excepted case, it is a union of meaningless 
 cant and the wildest fanaticism. A single spark of 
 true Christianity among the slave population would 
 set the plantations in a blaze. Christianity and sla- 
 very cannot live together ; but churchianity and sla- 
 very are twins. 
 
 That slavery alone is responsible for the peculiar 
 vices of the plantation negroes, the condition and 
 character of the city bondmen attest. ^Yherever you 
 find a negro in the Southern cities who has had the 
 chance to acquire knowledge, either from reading by 
 stealth, or from imitation, or the society of an edu- 
 cated class, you will find, in a majority of instances, 
 the moral equal — often the superior — of the white 
 man of the same social rank and educational oppor- 
 tunities. In manners, the city slaves are the Count 
 D'Orsays of the South. 
 
 III. Slave preachers are usually men of pliant and 
 hypocritical character — men who are easily used by 
 the ruling race as white-choJcered chains. The more 
 obsequious that they are — the more treacherous to 
 their own aspirations — the more they are fiattered 
 and esteemed by the tyrants whose work they do. I 
 attended a colored church at Savannah. The subject 
 of discourse was the death of John the Baptist : 
 
 " Bredrcn. 
 
IN HIS SANCTDM. 261 
 
 Oder circumstance 'bout de text, but de legions ob 
 de cliurcli has unformed ns. When Herodejus got 
 hold- ob de plate dat da put de head ob John de 
 Baptis' in, she war so mad at him, de legions tell ns, 
 dat she tnk a handful ob pins and stuck 'em in de 
 tongue ob de Apostle ! Ah " 
 
 The preacher, from whose discourse I selected this 
 remarkable biblical information, was a great favorite 
 w^ith tlie white population, who (if I mistake not) 
 addressed him as a Doctor of Divinity. When he 
 died I read a paragraph from a Savannah paper, in 
 which his virtues and learning were eulogized ! 
 
 lY. At Augusta, Georgia, I knew a boy of between 
 sixteen and seventeen years of age, who supported a 
 mulatto girl mistress. Her mother was a free 
 woman, and the daughter was about his own age. 
 He took up a peck of meal to their house, and some 
 bacon, every Saturday night, and for this weekly al- 
 lowance he was permitted, as frequently as he pleased, 
 to cohabit with the girl. Tlie pernicious effect of 
 slavery on children I have frequently heard parents 
 lament. And yet these same parents would favor 
 the extension of slavery into virgin territories ! 
 
 Y. The poor whites suifer greatly from the exist- 
 ence of slavery. They are deprived by it of the most 
 remunerative employment, and excluded from the 
 most fertile lands. I once heard a poor Alabama 
 farmer lament that he would soon have to move, as 
 they were beginning to " close him in again." I 
 asked what he meant? He said that, years and 
 years ago, he and several of his poor neighbors had 
 moved lar away into the wilderness, in order to be 
 out of and beyond the influence of slavery. They 
 had selected a spot where they thought they would 
 
202 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 be secure ; but the accounts of the extraordinary fer- 
 tility of the soil soon brought the wealthy slavehold- 
 ers to their paradise. They bought up immense 
 tracts of land bordering on the poor men's farms, 
 which, one by one, they soon managed to possess. 
 Sickness, bad seasons, poor harvests, and improvi- 
 dence, and other causes, soon compelled or induced 
 the petty farmers to borrow from their wealthy neigh- 
 bors, who, knowing the result, were ever willing to 
 lend. All had gone now, excej)ting him. " But," 
 he said, " you see they have bought all around me ; 
 my only way of getting to the road is by the side of 
 that marsh, and in wet weather I can 't take a team 
 out there. The law^s give me the right of buying a 
 
 passage out through 's plantation ; but he 
 
 wants my land, and would charge so high a rent for 
 the passage that I could not afibrd to pay it." (In 
 Alabama and most Southern States, the land is not 
 laid out as in many of the I^orthern and the Western 
 States — multiplication-table fashion ; the roads are 
 crooked, the farms irregular in size as in extent, and 
 the whole arrangement of roads is entirely different.) 
 " Again," the farmer said, " I am feeding his niggers. 
 They steal my chickens and eggs and vegetables. I 
 complained to the overseer about it : ' D — n it,' he 
 said, ' shoot them — we won't complain.' " But then, 
 if he shot them, he would have to pay their market 
 value ; and, besides, he had been hungry himself 
 often, and had not the heart to interfere with the 
 poor starving slaves. He was soon obliged to sell 
 out. I met him in Doniphan county, Kansas. lie 
 is a Republican now, and thanks God for the oppor- 
 tunity of belonging to an open anti-slavery party. 
 The accounts often published of the condition of the 
 
IN IIIS SANCTUM. 263 
 
 poor Avliites of tlie South are not exaggerated, and 
 could not well be. There is more j)auperism at the 
 South than at the North : in spite of the philosophy 
 of the Southern socialists, who claim that slavery 
 prevents that unfortunate condition of free society. 
 So, also, although Stringfellow claims that black 
 prostitution prevents wdiite harlotry, there are as 
 many, or more, public courtesans of the dominant 
 race, in the Southern cities I have visited, than in 
 Northern towns of similar population. Slavery pre- 
 vents no old evils, but breeds a host of new ones. 
 The poor whites, as a class, are extremely illiterate, 
 ruffianly, and superstitious. 
 
 YI. ISo complaints are ever made of the indolence 
 or incapacity of the negroes, when they are stimu- 
 lated by the hopes of wages or of prerogatives which 
 can only be obtained in the South by hard work. It 
 is the slave, not the negro, that is " lazy and clumsy." 
 
 YII. Overseers are generally men of the lowest 
 character, although I have met with some, the man- 
 agers of extensive estates, who were men of culture 
 and ability. Yet these few instances are hardly 
 exceptions, as such men employ subordinates to do 
 the grosser work. I have often been told that over- 
 seers are frequently hired with special reference to 
 their robust j^hysical condition / and this told not in 
 jest, as to a Northerner, but in conversation between 
 wealthy slaveholders, who, for aught they knew, sup- 
 posed me to be a Southerner and a friend of their 
 "peculiar" or "sectional" crime. The Southern 
 Agriculturist, published at Charleston, South Caro- 
 lina, thus faitlifully describes tliis class of persons : 
 
 "Overseers arc changed every year ; a few remain four or 
 five years ; but tlie average length of time they remain on the 
 
2G4: THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 same plantation will not exceed two years. They are taken 
 from the lowest grade of society, and seldom have the privilege 
 of a religious education, and have no fear of offending God, and 
 consequently no check on their natural propensities ; they give 
 way to passion, intemperance,. and every sin, and become sav- 
 ages in their conduct." — Vol. IV., p. 351. 
 
 YIII. Sucli, by the confession of tlie Soutlierners 
 themselves, being a faithful description of the char- 
 acter of overseers, is it necessary to j)i'Ocluce negro 
 testimony to j^rove that cruelty and crime are of fre- 
 quent occurrence on the large plantations? The 
 negro is entirely in the power and at the mercy of 
 our race. Supposing — to take an extreme case by 
 way of illustration — a planter or overseer, in the pre- 
 sence of five hundred negroes, was to arrest a slave, 
 tie him hand and foot, and cut him to pieces, inch by 
 inch, no legal punishment could reach him, and no 
 legal body investigate the crime, unless a white man 
 was a witness of the barbarity. The laws refuse to ac- 
 cept negro evidence in any case, whether it be against 
 or in favor of a white man. Judge Lynch, alone, of 
 all Southern jurists, relaxes this rule ; and that only 
 in the case of abolitionists! This fact effectually 
 destroys the efficacy of all the laws— few in number 
 as they are — which have been passed in some States for 
 the protection of the bondmen. Whij^ping women, 
 beating boys with clubs — innumerable cruel and 
 unusual punishments — are circumstances of daily 
 occurrence in every Southern State. 
 
 IX. I heard a planter one day sneering at the 
 ladies who advocated woman's rights. He was 
 shocked that women should attempt to go out of 
 their sphere. On his plantation, near Savannah, I 
 saw women filliug dung carts, hoeing, driving oxen, 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 265 
 
 plougliing, and engaged in many other similar emj)loy- 
 ments. Is it within woman's sphere to perform such 
 labors ? 
 
 X. One of the proprietors of the Montgomery 
 (Alabama) ILail^ at the period of my visit to that 
 town, described to me the execution by a mob of a 
 negro hy fire at the stake. He had either killed a 
 w^hite man or ravished a white girl — I have since for- 
 gotten which — but one sentence of his account, for 
 its characteristic Southern inhumanity to the negro, 
 I shall never forget to my dying day. " They piled 
 pretty green wood on the fire, to make it burn slow ; 
 he gave one terrible yell before he died ; and, every 
 
 time the wind blew from him, there was the d dest 
 
 stench of burnt flesh. D n it, how it did smell." 
 
 This was said, laughingly. Several well authenticated 
 cases of the same fiendish torture have occurred 
 within the last five years. Parson Brownlow, as I 
 have already stated, eulogized the barbarity in one 
 instance. 
 
 XI. As against whites, in courts of justice, the 
 negro has not the faintest chance of fairness. I 
 could illustrate this statement by citing examples ; 
 but, as a South Carolina Governor has confessed the 
 fact, it will suftice to quote his admission. Says 
 Governor Adams in his message for 1855 : 
 
 " The administration of our laics, in relation to our colored 
 2:>opulation, by our courts of magistrates and freelioldcrs, as 
 these courts are at present constituted, calls loudhj for reform. 
 Their decisions are earelt in conformity with justice or hu- 
 manity. I have felt constrained, in a majority of the cases 
 brought to my notice, either to modify tlic sentence, or set it 
 aside altogether." 
 
 Xn. Colonel Benton, in a lecture that lie delivered 
 12 
 
266 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 ill Boston, had tlie audacity to assert tliat slaves are 
 seldom sold by tlieir masters, excejjyting for debt or faults, 
 or crimes. Granting, for the sake of argument, the 
 truth of this falsehood, these exceptions are sufficient 
 grounds, I think, for the overthrow of slavery at any 
 cost. Debts are so common, among the unthrifty 
 Southrons, that this cause alone must separate hun- 
 dreds of families every year. The sale of one slave 
 mother, in my view, is enough to justify the slaughter 
 of a race. Much more, then, the separation of thou- 
 sands. "Faults!" great heavens! supposing that 
 every white Yirginian, who has "faults," was to be 
 sold by public auction — where ivould the slavehold- 
 ers, the first families, and the future Presidents be ? 
 l^ot in free homes, I know. " Crimes !" Does the 
 reader know that, by the laws of Yirginia, if a slave 
 commits a capital offence, he may be pardoned hy 
 'being sold out of the State — the owner of him pocket- 
 ing the proceeds of the auction? But statistics 
 refute Colonel Benton's statement. It is capable of 
 demonstration that twenty-five thousand negroes are 
 annually sold from the J^orthern or slave-breeding 
 to the Southern or slave-buying Slave States. See 
 Chase and Sanborn's "ITorth and South," and the 
 authorities they cite. I have seen families separated 
 and sold to difi'erent masters in Yirginia ; I have 
 spoken wdth hundreds of slaves in the Carolinas, who 
 were sold, they told iTLQ^froin their wives and children 
 in the same inhuman State ; and I have seen slave-pens 
 and slave-cars filled with the unhappy victims of this 
 internal and infernal trade, who were travelling for 
 the city of New Orleans ; wdiere, also, I have wit- 
 nessed at least a score of public negro auctions. 
 Everybody who has lived in the seaboard Slave 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 267 
 
 States — women, politicians and clergymen excepted 
 — well know that to buy or to sell a negro, or breed 
 one, is regarded as equally legitimate in point of 
 morals with the purchase of a pig, or a horse, or 
 an office seeker. ^^ 
 
 I can corroborate Mr. Olmsted, therefore — (from 
 whose book, as this volume was passing through the 
 press, I have already made several extracts), and can 
 fully indorse him when he says : 
 
 ^' It is denied, with feeling, that slaves are often 
 reared, as is supposed by the abolitionists, with the 
 intention of selling them to the traders. It appears 
 to me evident, however, from the manner in which I 
 hear the traffic spoken of incidentally, that the cash 
 value of a slave for sale, above the cost of raising it 
 from infancy to the age at which it commands the 
 highest price, is generally considered among the 
 surest elements of a planter's w^ealth. Such a nigger 
 is worth such a price, and such another is too 
 old to learn to pick cotton, and such another -will 
 bring so much, when it has grown a little more, I 
 liave frequently heard people say, in the street, or 
 the public houses. That a slave woman is commonly 
 esteemed least for her laboring qualities, most for 
 those qualities which give value to a brood-mare, is, 
 also, constantly made apparent. A slaveholder writ- 
 ing to me with regard to my cautious statements on 
 this subject, made in the Daily Times ^ says: 'In 
 the States of Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, 
 Kentucky, Tennessee and Missouri, as much attention 
 is paid to the breeding and growth of negroes as to 
 that of horses and mules. Further South, we raise 
 them both for use and for market. Planters com- 
 mand their girls and women (married or unmarried) 
 
268 THE KOVING EDITOR. 
 
 to have cliildreu ; and 1 have known a great many 
 negro girls to be sold off, because they did not have 
 children. A breeding woman is worth from one- 
 sixth to one-fourth more than one that does not 
 breed.' " 
 
 XTlT. The lower classes of the Southern States 
 hate and affect to despise the negro in exact propor- 
 tion to their own intellectual and moral debasement. 
 
 XIY. The assertion that without slave labor, cotton, 
 rice and sugar could not be grown in the Southern 
 States — that these staples would not and cannot be 
 cultivated by white men — that " the choice," to use 
 the language of Senator Douglas, is " between the 
 negro and the crocodile," is utterly without founda- 
 tion, and is refuted by facts. There is nothing more 
 common in Georgia and Alabama than to see white 
 men, and white women too^ at work in the fields at 
 every hour of the day. Of course, these persons 
 belong to the class of " poor white trash." Eut, 
 granting that the Southern staples would perish with- 
 out slavery — what then? Down with the staples, 
 rather than criminally cultivate them. Perish the 
 products whose roots are watered by inhumanity. 
 
 Xy. Slavery is the sum of all villainies. 
 
11. 
 
 THE INSIJKKECTION IIEKO. 
 
 "We were talking about slavery, and its probable 
 duration, in the office of the Leamnworth Times. 
 I expressed my doubts of the efficacy of political 
 action against it, and stated that I was in favor of a 
 servile insurrection. I believe I found no one who 
 aj)proved of such a scheme of abolition. 
 
 John C. Yaughan was in the room. He told us of 
 the terror which such events inspired in Southern 
 communities, whenever it was believed that the 
 negroes intended to revolt. 
 
 He told the story of Isaac. It made an indelible 
 impression on my mind. Subsequently, I desired 
 him to furnish me with a written account of the 
 death of the heroic slave. 
 
 This chapter is the result. After a preliminary 
 w^ord on slave insurrections, Mr. Yaughan proceeds : 
 
 THE STOKY OF ISAAC. 
 
 All other perils are understood. Fire upon land, 
 or storm at sea, wrapping mortals in a wild or watery 
 shroud, may be readily imagined. Pestilence walking 
 abroad in the city, making the sultry air noisome and 
 heavy, hushing the busy throng, aweing into silence 
 heated avarice, and glooming the very liaunts of 
 
270 THE KOVING EDITOE 
 
 civilization as if tliey were cliarn el-houses, can be 
 quickly understood. But the appalling terror of a 
 slave revolt, made instinct with life, and stunning as 
 it pervades the community — the undescribed and 
 indescribable horror which fills and sways every 
 bosom as the word is whispered along the streets, or 
 borne quickly from house to house, or speeded by 
 fleetest couriers from plantation to plantation — " an 
 insurrection" — ^^' an insurrection " — must \)Qfelt and 
 seen to be realized. 
 
 [N'or is this strange. The blackest ills are associated 
 with it. Hate, deep and undying, to be gratified — 
 revenge, as bitter and fiendish as the heart can feel, 
 to be gloated over while indulged — lust, unbridled 
 and fierce, to be glutted — death, we know not how 
 or where, but death in its basest and most agonizing 
 form ; or life, dishonored and more horrible than 
 most excruciating death — these are the essence of an 
 insurrection. Could worse forms of evil be conjured 
 up ? Can any human actions — the very darkest that 
 walk at midnight — excite equal terror ? "VYe pity 
 slaveholders who are startled by the dread of it, and 
 w^onder at their want of manhood in exposing the 
 gentler sex to this human whirlwind of fury, and 
 revenge, and lust and death. 
 
 But to our story. I remember, when a boy, going 
 out one bright day on a hunting excursion, and, on 
 returning in the evening, meeting at the bridge, a 
 mile or more from the town I lived in, a body of 
 armed men. The road turns suddenly, as you ap- 
 proach the spot from the south, and is skirted, on 
 either side, by deep swamps. I did not see them, 
 consequently, until I came directly upon them. 
 
 " Where have you been ?" was the abrupt question 
 
IN niS SANCTUM. 271 
 
 put to me by the captain, without offering the usual 
 salutation. 
 
 "I have been hunting," I replied, "along the 
 banks of the river, and up by the old Hermitage." 
 
 " Did you see or meet any one ?" continued my 
 questioner, no man else saying a word. 
 
 " :N^o one." 
 
 " Go home instantly," he said, imperatively, " and 
 keep up the main road. Do n't cross over by the 
 swamp, or the old ford" — two nearer footpaths to 
 the town, skirting heavily timbered land. 
 
 I cannot recollect now whether I had heard before 
 of an insurrection. I had not, certainly thought 
 much about it, if at all. But I knew, instantly, why 
 these armed citizens were at the bridge. The low, 
 compressed, yet clear voice of the captain — the 
 silence of his men — their audible breathing as they 
 waited for my replies to his questions — their military 
 order — with sentries in advance — told me all, and I 
 experienced a dread which chilled me through ; and 
 the deepening shade of the forest, under which I had 
 so often whistled merrily, served now to add to the 
 gloom of the hour. I asked no questions. With 
 quickened pace I pushed uj) the main road, and was 
 not long in reaching my father's house. I w^ished 
 to know the worst, and to help in meeting it. 
 
 I found all alarm at home. Guns were stacked in 
 the passage, and men were tliere ready to use 
 them. Two friends were in the parlor informing the 
 household of the place of rendezvous for the -women 
 and children, and the signal which was to be given 
 if the town should be fired, or an attack be made 
 upon it by the negroes. I inquired and learned 
 here the cause and extent of the danger. 
 
272 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 That morning a negro Lad informed liis master 
 of the plot, and had represented to him that it 
 reached plantations over a hundred miles off, and 
 embraced the thickest negro settlements of the 
 State. 
 
 The first step taken was to arrest the leaders 
 named (some thirty in nmnber) bj the informer. 
 The second, to inform the town and country of the 
 impending danger. Armed patrols were started out 
 in every direction. Every avenue to the town was 
 guarded, and every house in it made a sort of mili- 
 tary fort. The apprehension was, that the plantation 
 negroes would rise and sweep all before them with 
 fire and sword ; and the " white strength " was pre- 
 pared, in all its force, to meet the contingency. 
 
 The master, if he be kind to his bondmen, is apt to 
 believe that they will never turn against him. "We 
 hear planters say, " I would arm my slaves," when- 
 ever this subject is broached. This is a strong ex- 
 pression, and to be received with " grains of allow- 
 ance," as the sequel will illustrate. Yet, boy-like, I 
 felt as if no soul in our yard could strike a blow 
 against one of the family. I went to the servants' 
 quarter. L^ot one of them was out — a strange event 
 — and not a neighbor's domestic was in — a still 
 stranger circumstance ! They were silent as the 
 grave. " Even " Mamma," privileged to say and do 
 what she pleased, and who could be heard amid the 
 laughter and tongue clatter of the rest, had nothing 
 to tell me. I asked a few questions; they were 
 simply answered. It was evident that the servants 
 were frightened ; they knew not what they feared ; 
 but they were spell-bound by an undefined dread of 
 evil to them and harm to us. Indeed, this was the 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 273 
 
 case with the bhicks, generally ; and while the ex- 
 citement lasted, the patrol did not arrest one slave 
 away from his qnarters ! An honest Irishman re- 
 marked at the time, " it was hard to tell which was 
 most frightened, the whites or the negroes." 
 
 The proposed revolt, as regards territory, was an 
 extended one. It embraced a region having over 
 forty thonsand male slaves. But the plot was poorly 
 arranged, and it was clear that those who planned it 
 knew little or nothing of the power they had to meet 
 and master. For six months the leaders of it had 
 been brooding over their design, and two days before 
 its consummation they were in prison and virtually 
 doomed as felons. Then seiznre arrested the insur- 
 rection withont bloodshed ; but not without a sacri- 
 fice of life ! That w^as demanded by society and the 
 law. Thirteen of the negroes arrested were declared 
 guilty and hung. They had, according to all notions 
 then, a fair trial ; lawyers defended them, and did 
 their best; an im^^artial and intelligent jury deter- 
 mined their fate ; and by the voice of man, not of 
 God, this number of human beings was "legally" 
 sent out of existence ! 
 
 The leader of the insurrection — Isaac — I knew 
 well. He w^as head man to a family intimate with 
 mine. Implicit confidence was placed in him, not 
 only by his master, but by the minister of the church 
 and everybody who knew him. The boys called him 
 Uncle Isaac, and the severest patrol would take his 
 word and let him go his way. 
 
 He was some forty years old when he first planned 
 the revolt. His physical development was fine. He 
 was muscular and active — the very man a sculptor 
 would select for a model. And yet, witli all his great 
 
 12* 
 
274: THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 strength, he was kind and affectionate, and simple as 
 a woman. He was never tired of doing for others. 
 In intellect he was richly gifted ; no negro in the 
 place could compare with him for clear-headedness 
 and nobleness of will. He was born to make a figure, 
 and, with equal advantages, would have been the first 
 among any throng. He had character : that concen- 
 tration of religious, moral, and mental strength, 
 which, when possessed by high or low, gives man 
 power over his fellows, and imparts life to his acts 
 and name. 
 
 His superiority was shown on the trial. It w^as 
 necessary to prove that he was the leader, and coun- 
 sel were about taking this step. " I am the man," 
 said Isaac. There was no hesitation in his manner — 
 no tremulousness in his voice ; the words sounded 
 naturally, but so clear and distinct that the court and 
 audience knew it was so, and it could not have been 
 otherwise. An effort was made to persuade him to 
 have counsel. His young masters pressed the point. 
 The court urged him. Slaveholders were anxious for 
 it, not only because they could not help liking his 
 bearing, but because they wished to still every voice 
 of censure, far or near, by having a fair trial for all. 
 But he was resolute. He made no set speeches — 
 played no part. Clear above all, and with the 
 authoritative tone of truth, he repeated, " I am the 
 man, and I am not afraid or ashamed to confess it." 
 
 Sentence of death was passed upon him and twelve 
 others. 
 
 The next step, before the last, was to ascertain all 
 the negroes who had entered into the plot. Isaac 
 managed this part wisely. He kept his own counsel, 
 and, besides his brother, as was supposed, no one 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 275 
 
 knew who liad agreed to help him at home or from a 
 distance. The testimony was abundant that he had 
 promise of snch helj). His declaration to the colored 
 informer, " The bonfire of the town will raise forty 
 thousand armed men for us," was given in evidence. 
 He admitted the fact. But no ingenuity, no -pvo- 
 mises, no threats, could induce or force him to reveal 
 a single name. " You have me," he said ; " no one 
 other shall you get if I can prevent it. The only 
 pain I feel is that my life alone is not to be taken. 
 If these," pointing to his fellow captives, "were safe, 
 I should die triumphantly." 
 
 The anxiety on this point naturally was very deep, 
 and when the usual expedients had failed, the follow- 
 ing scheme was hit upon : Isaac loved his minister, 
 as everybody did who worshipped at his altar, and 
 the minister reciprocated heartily that love. " Isaac 
 will not resist him — he will get out of Isaac all that 
 we want to know." This was the general belief, and, 
 acting upon it, a committee visited the pastor. An 
 explanation took place, and the good man readily 
 consented to do all he could. 
 
 He went to the cell. The slave-felon and the man 
 of God confronted each other. 
 
 " I come, Isaac," said the latter, " to find out from 
 you everything about this wicked insurrection, and 
 
 you" 
 
 '' Master," hastily interrupted Isaac, " you come 
 for no such purpose. You may have been over- 
 persuaded to do so, or unthinkingly have given your 
 consent. But will you, who first taught me religion, 
 who made me know that my Jesus suffered and died 
 in truth — will you tell me to betray confidence 
 sacredly intrusted to me, and thus sacrifice others' 
 
276 THE TwOVING EDITOR 
 
 lives because my life is to be forfeited ? Can you 
 persuade me, as a sufferer and a struggle r for free- 
 dom, to turn traitor to tlie very men wlio were to 
 help me ? Oh, master, let me love you :" and, rising, 
 as if uncertain of the influence of his appeal, to 
 his full stature, and looking his minister directly in 
 the face, he added, with commanding majesty, "You 
 know me !" 
 
 I wish that I could repeat the tale as I heard the 
 old minister tell it. So minute, yet so natural ; so 
 particular in detail, yet so life-like ! The jail, its 
 inner cell, the look and bearing of Isaac, his calmness 
 and greatness of soul. It was touching in the ex- 
 treme. I have known sternest slaveholders to w^eep 
 like children as they would listen to the story. But 
 I can only narrate it as I remember it, in briefest out- 
 line. Tlie old divine continued : 
 
 " I could not proceed. I looked at Isaac ; my eye 
 fell before his. I could not forget his rebuke ; I ac- 
 knowledged my sin. For the first time in my minis- 
 terial life, I had done a mean, a base act ; and, stand- 
 ing by the side of a chained felon, I felt myself to be 
 the criminal." 
 
 A long silence ensued. The minister was in hopes 
 that Isaac would break it ; he did not. He himself 
 made several attempts to do so, but failed. Eecover- 
 ing from his shock at length, and reverting in his 
 own mind to the horrors which the revolt would have 
 occasioned, he resumed the conversation thus : 
 
 " But, Isaac, yours was a wicked plot ; and if you 
 had succeeded, you would have made the very streets 
 run blood. How could you think of this? How 
 consent to kill your old master and mistress ? How 
 dream of slaying me and mine ?" 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 277 
 
 " Master," Isaac quickly responded, " I love old 
 master and mistress. I love you and yours. I would 
 die to bless you any time. Master, I would hurt no 
 human being, no living thing. But you taught me 
 that God was the God of black as well as white — that 
 he was no respecter of persons — that in his eye all 
 were alike • equal — and that there was no religion un- 
 less we loved him and our neighbor, and did unto 
 others as we would they should do unto us. Master, I 
 was a slave. My wife and children were slaves. If 
 equal with others before God, they should be equal 
 before men. I saw my young masters learning, hold- 
 ing what they made, and making what they could. 
 But master, my race could make nothing, holding 
 nothing. What they did they did for others, not for 
 themselves. And they had to do it, whether they 
 wished it or not ; for they were slaves. Master, this 
 is not loving our neighbor, or doing to others as we 
 would have them do to us. I knew there was and 
 could be no help fur me, for wife or children, for niy 
 race, except we were free ; and as the whites would 
 not let this be so, and as God told me he could only 
 help those who helped themselves, I preached free- 
 dom to the slaves, and bid them strike for it like 
 men. Master, we were betrayed. But I tell you 
 now, if we had succeeded, I should have slain old 
 master and mistress and you first, to show my people 
 tliat I could sacrifice my love, as I ordered them to 
 sacrifice their hates, to have justice — justice for them 
 — justice for mine— justice for all. I should have 
 been miserable and wretched for life. I could not 
 kill any human creature without being so. But, 
 master, God here *' — pointing with his chained hand to 
 
278 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 his heart — " told me then, as he tells me now^ that I 
 was right." 
 
 " I do n't know how it was," continued the old min- 
 ister, " but I was overpowered. Isaac mastered me. 
 It was not that his reasoning was conclusive ; that, I 
 could have answered easily; but my conduct had 
 been so base and his honesty was so transparent, his 
 look so earnest and sincere, his voice so commanding, 
 that I forgot everything in my sympathy for him. 
 He was a hero, and bore himself like one without 
 knowing it. I knew by that instinct which ever ac- 
 companies goodness, that the slave-felon's conscience 
 was unstained by crime even in thought ; and, grasp- 
 ing him by the hand, without scarce knowing what 
 I was going to do, I said, ' Isaac, let us pray.' And I 
 prayed long and earnestly. I did not stop to think 
 of my words. My heart poured itself out and I was 
 relieved." 
 
 " And what," I asked, " was the character of your 
 prayer ?" 
 
 "What it ought to have been," energetically 
 replied the old divine. " I prayed to God as our 
 common Father. I acknowledged that he would do 
 justice ; that it was hard for us, poor mortals, to say 
 who was right and who was wrong on earth ; that 
 the very best were sinners, and those deemed the 
 worst by us might be regarded the best by Him. I 
 prayed for Isaac. I prayed God to forgive him, if 
 wrong; to forgive the whites, if he was right; to 
 forgive and bless all. I was choked with tears. 
 I caught hold of Isaac's hand and pressed it 
 warmly, and received his warm pressure in return. 
 And ^vith a joy I never experienced before or 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 279 
 
 since, I heard his earnest, solemn 'Amen' as I 
 closed. 
 
 " We stood toofetlier for some time in silence. 
 Isaac was deeply moved. I saw it by the working 
 of his frame, and the muscles of his face and his eye. 
 For the first time tear-drops stood on his eyelids. 
 But, stilling every emotion, he began, as calmly as if 
 he were going to rest : 
 
 " ' Master, I shall die in peace, and I give you a 
 dying man's blessing. I shall see you no more on 
 earth. Give my love to old master and mistress, 
 and' — ^for a moment he faltered, but with concen- 
 trated energy choked down instantly his deepest 
 emotion as he continued, more solemnly than I ever 
 heard mortal speak — ' and, master, if you love me — 
 if you love Jesus — ^lead my wife and children as you 
 have led me — to heaven. God bless you forever, 
 master.' 
 
 " We parted. I saw him no more. I could not 
 see him hung, or pray for him, as requested to do by 
 others in the last dying hour. I had been with him 
 long. For four hours we were together in his nar- 
 row, noisome cell. How indelibly are the events 
 Avliich occurred in them impressed upon my memory ! 
 Oil ! slavery — slavery !" 
 
 The citizens outside awaited anxiously the good 
 minister's egress from the jail, and, when he appeared, 
 crowded round him to know the result. He looked 
 like one jaded with a long journey. He was worn 
 down. " It is useless — it is useless — let him die in 
 peace," was all he said; and, seeing that he was 
 deeply moved, and taking it for granted that he had 
 been engaged in devotional exercises with tlie dying, 
 silence pervaded the group, and he was allowed to 
 
280 THE ROVING EDITOR 
 
 depart in peace. And never in public or in a mixed 
 audience, would that minister refer to Isaac, or tlie 
 hours he spent with him ! 
 
 'No other effort to elicit information from the 
 leader was made, and none who promised him help 
 were discovered through him. 
 
 The death-day came. A mighty crowd gathered 
 to witness the sad event to which, in that place, it 
 was to be devoted ; and the military, with gleaming 
 swords and bright bayonets, stood under the gallows, 
 to guard against escape or difficulty. Six " felons " 
 were upon the gallows — it could hold no more — and 
 Isaac was put on the list. " Be men," said he, when 
 one of the number showed some timidity, " and die 
 like men. I'll give you an example : then, obey my 
 brother." That brother stood next him. Isaac 
 gazed intently upon the crowd — some thought he was 
 looking for his wife and children — and then spoke his 
 farewell to his young masters. A few words passed 
 between him and his brother, when, saying audibly, 
 "I'll die a freeman," he sprung up as high as he could, 
 and fell heavily as the knotted rope checked his fall. 
 Instantly his frame was convulsed, and, in its muscu- 
 lar action, his feet reached the plank on which he 
 had stood, looking as if he sought to regain it. His 
 brother, turning his face to his comrades, deliberately 
 put his hand upon his side, and, leaning forward, 
 held the body clear with his elbow, as he said : "Let 
 us die like him." 
 
 The authorities perceived that the terrors of the 
 law would be lost, and none of " the good " they 
 anticipated be secured among tlie blacks, especially, 
 who filled up the outer circle of the dense crowd, if 
 this lofty heroism were witnessed. They proceeded 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 2S1 
 
 rapidly witli the execution, and, in a few moments, 
 Isaac and his brother and their felon comrades were 
 asleep together. 
 
 The bodies of the blacks, after dangling in the air 
 the usual time, as if in mockery of heaven and earth, 
 were cut down, coffined, and carted away to their 
 burkl-place. That was an out-of-the-way old field, 
 with a stagnant lagoon on three sides of it, and a 
 barren sand-waste, covered with a sparse growth of 
 short pines, on the other. 
 
 Beneath the shade of one of these pines which 
 skirted the field, and not far ofi" from the felons' 
 graves, a colored woman and a cluster of little ones 
 might have been seen. These were Isaac's wife and 
 children. They stood where they were, until all, 
 save one white man, had departed. He made a 
 signal, and they approached the burial spot. He 
 pointed to a particular spot, and left. ISTone know, 
 save our Father, how long the widowed one and the 
 fatherless remained there, or what were their emo- 
 tions. But, next morning, a rough stake was found 
 driven into the earth where Isaac lay, and, ere the 
 next Sabbath dawned, a 2:)ile of stones with an 
 uj)riglit memorial, was placed at the head of his 
 grave. How these stones w^ere obtained — for none 
 like them were to be seen within thirty or forty 
 miles — no one could say, though all knew who put 
 them there. The rude memorial still stands ! The 
 grave of Isaac is yet known ! And that widowed 
 one, while she lived — ^for she, too, has departed — 
 kept the lone burial spot free from weeds, and cov- 
 ered it with the wild rose, as if the spirit whicli had 
 once animated the cold clay beneath, loved a robe 
 of beauty and sweetness ! 
 
2S2 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 As not the least remarkable feature in Isaac's con- 
 duct, was the course he pursued towards his family, 
 we cannot close without referring to it. He was an 
 exemplary husband, and a wise as \ve\l as kind 
 father. His wife was not superior, intellectually, but 
 she was affectionate, and he so moulded her charac- 
 ter as to make her worthy of him. His children 
 were well-behaved, and remarkable for their polite 
 manners. His very household gave evidence of all 
 this. Everything w^as in order; the furniture was 
 neat ; in all the arrangements he had an intelligent 
 eye to comfort and taste ; he had a watch, and some 
 tolerable Scripture engravings ; and his little garden 
 was well stocked with the best vegetables, the best 
 fruit, and the rarest flowers. 
 
 Of the plot, Isaac's wdfe knew nothing. He had 
 evidently thought of his failure, and committed no 
 w^omen, and as few married men as he could. He 
 meant, let what might happen to him, that his part- 
 ner should suffer no harm. This was evident enough 
 from his conduct. For, the first thing he did after 
 his arrest, was to desire an interview with his master. 
 That was denied him. ]^ot that the old gentleman 
 was cruel or angry — for he loved Isaac — but because, 
 as he said, '' He could not stand it." The next thing- 
 was to send for his young master. He came, and to 
 him he said : " Massa Thomas, I have sent for you to 
 say, that my wife does not know anything about the 
 insurrection, or any of my action. I wanted to see 
 old master to beg of him not to sell or separate her 
 and the children. I must get you to do that. And, 
 Massa Thomas, when your father dies, I want you to 
 promise that you will help them." The young man 
 promised (and we rejoice to say his word was kept), 
 
IN niS SANCTUM. 2S3 
 
 and then Isaac, the slave and the felon, blessed him. 
 Never again, until near his last hour, when convers- 
 ing with his minister, did he refer to his family, and 
 the only message he sent them was a torn Bible, with 
 this sentence rudely writ down on one of the leaves : 
 " We shall live again, and be together." So deep 
 was his affection for his family, and so careful was he 
 to ward off every suspicion from them. 
 
 I met, last summer, the slaveholder — an intelligent 
 and humane man — who commanded the military the 
 day Isaac was hung. 
 
 I referred to the scene. He spoke of it as one of 
 the most moving that he had ever witnessed, and to 
 my surprise, though very much to my gratification, 
 remarked : 
 
 " I never knew what true heroism was until I saw 
 Isaac manifest it upon his seizure, trial and death. I 
 felt my inferiority to him in every way, and I never 
 think of him without ranking him among the best 
 and bravest men that ever lived." 
 
 The record below tells of his crime, and he will be 
 remembered on earth as a felon; but the record 
 above will contain his virtues, and in heaven the 
 good will know and love him — for Isaac was a Man. 
 
Ill 
 
 THE UNDERGROUND TELEGRAPH. 
 
 The thriving condition of the Underground Rail- 
 road, establishes conclusively the existence of secret 
 and rapid modes of communication among the slave 
 population of the South. Many extraordinary stories 
 are told by the Southrons themselves of the facility 
 with which the negroes learn of all events that tran- 
 spire in the surrounding country. In spite of strict 
 surveillance on the plantation, and careful watching 
 abroad, by means of numerous and well mounted 
 patrols, the slaves pass freely over large tracts of 
 country. More especially does this state of things 
 exist among the plantations of the cotton growing 
 States. The dense forests, swamps and morasses, 
 which the negroes alone can tread with impunity, 
 enable them to avoid the highways and beaten paths 
 wherein they would be likely to meet the patrol. 
 
 This system of secret travel originally grew out of 
 the social desires of the slaves — their love of gossip 
 and wish to meet their friends and i^elatives ; but, as 
 the tyranny of the system grew more insupportable, 
 in the natural com*se of events, and the yearnings 
 after freedom became stronger in the minds of the 
 negroes themselves, it was used for other and far 
 
 2S4 
 
THE ROVING EDITOR. 285 
 
 more dangerous purposes. The preceding chapter 
 will show how an earnest man can use this power. 
 
 I remember an incident narrated to me at Charles- 
 ton, which illustrates this point. In conversation 
 upon various subjects with Col. , a fine speci- 
 men of the Southern planter, with whom I had formed 
 a slight acquaintance, various traits and peculiarities 
 of the negro character were alluded to ; and, among 
 others, the extraordinary facilities possessed by the 
 slaves in communicating with each other. 
 
 Col. said it was impossible to prevent it. 
 
 1^0 matter how rigid the laws might be, or how 
 strictly they were enforced, the evil (as he called it) 
 still continued to grow. He related the following 
 incident as a proof of this rapid inter-communication : 
 
 " Several summers since, I was in the interior of 
 the State, visiting the plantation of a friend. While 
 there, one morning, the news arrived of a dreadful 
 murder that had been committed, a short distance 
 from the estate, by a poor white man who kept a 
 small grocery at the cross roads near the boundary 
 of several estates. He was supposed to be a receiver 
 of the various articles which plantation slaves are in 
 the habit of stealing. In a fit of insane jealousy, he 
 had brutally murdered a woman who lived with 
 him as his wife. He had immediately decamj^ed, 
 and was supposed to have gone in the direction of 
 Charleston. 1 was about returning to my home ; 
 and my friend, an active magistrate, proposed that 
 we should endeavor to overtake the murderer; or, 
 by reacliing the city at an early hour, cause ]iis ar- 
 rest. Tiie distance was about eighty miles, and we 
 did not start till late in the afternoon. We rode 
 rapidly, changing our horses twice, and about two 
 
286 THE EOVING EDITOR 
 
 o'clock in the morning, reached the banks of the river 
 a few miles from the city. My companion had al- 
 luded, during the ride, to the knowledge that our ser- 
 vants were generally possessed of all intelligence, and 
 offered to bet any amount of money that ^ Old Harry ' 
 (the black ferryman), already knew everything about 
 the murder. I was incredulous ; for we had ridden 
 fast, and, by no possibility, did it seem to me, could 
 he have learnt anything relating to the tragedy. 
 
 " ' Well, Harry,' said my companion to the old fel- 
 low, ' what 's the news up country V 
 
 "'I dun'no know, mass'r,' was the hesitating reply • 
 'you gentlemen has jest come down, and probable 
 knows more 'bout it dan I does.' 
 
 "About what?" I asked. 
 
 "'Why sah, de murder ob Abe Thomas' wife las' 
 night.' 
 
 '.' The murder was discovered by the patrols about 
 three o'clock in the morning ! 
 
 " We both expressed our ignorance of the event, and 
 old Harry, after some hesitation, gave us the par- 
 ticulars very accurately, stating that he had heard of 
 it that night from a plantation hand. 
 
 " Here was an extraordinary proof of what my com- 
 panion had stated. We had travelled rapidly ; no 
 one had left the neighborhood before us ; yet this old 
 man had learnt of the event some hours previous to 
 our arrival. It had been passed from plantation to 
 plantation, and thus it had reached him." 
 
 I listened to the story, and treasured up its facts. 
 It seems to me that here lies a power, by means of 
 which a formidable insurrection, directed by white 
 men, can safely be formed and consummated. And 
 the slaves hioio this fact. The Canadian fugitives 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 2S7 
 
 understand it ; and are tlioronglily systematizing this 
 Underground Telegraph. Many of them a,re con- 
 stantly passing to and fro in the Slave States with 
 perfect impunity. Through it, hundreds of the rela- 
 tives and friends of men, who have already secured 
 tlieir freedom, have been informed of the means by 
 which they can obtain the liberty so eagerly desired. 
 By its operations, when the appropriate hour for 
 sounding the alarum shall have come, speedily, 
 surely and swiftly, will the news spread southward, 
 and reach, in the silent hours of the night, thousands 
 of eager souls now awaiting, in trembling anxiety, 
 for the terrible day of deliverance. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE DISMAL SWAMT. 
 
 TiiEKE is a Canada in tlie Soutliern States. It is 
 the Dismal Swamp. It is tlie dreariest and the most 
 repulsive of American possessions. It is the favorite 
 resort of wild animals and reptiles ; the paradise of 
 serpents and poisonous vegetation. 'No human 
 being, one w^ould think, would voluntary live there ; 
 and yet, from time immemorial, it has been the 
 chosen asylum of hundreds of our race. It has been 
 the earthly heaven of the negro slave; the place 
 " where the wicked cease from troubling, and the 
 weary are at rest." 
 
 For the following account of life in the Swamp, I 
 am indebted to the courtesy of Mrs. Knox, of Bos- 
 ton. It was narrated by a fugitive slave in Canada, 
 whose words, as he uttered them, she reported ver- 
 hatim. She purposes to publish, a volume of auto- 
 biographical sketches of the Canadian fugitives ; and 
 it is from her manuscript collection that this narrative 
 is taken. 
 
 The uniform testimony of the runaways she con- 
 versed with, as well as of all the fugitives whom Mr. 
 Drew examined, is that slavery is the sum of all vil- 
 lainies — " Cousin of Hell," as one of them phrased 
 it — and that the bondmen everywhere are discon- 
 tented with their lot. 
 
 2S3 
 
THE EOVING EDITOR. 289 
 
 This is the Canadian runaway's narrative of 
 
 LIFE IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 
 
 . . . . " Tliirtj-five miles I was sep'rated from my 
 wife, buildin' house for overseer. 'Casionally I was 
 permitted to go home. De las' time (I remember it 
 'stinctly) when I seed her, I telled her I would come 
 back agin in four weeks. Arter I had worked four 
 weeks, de overseer would n't let me go ; so I waited 
 and axed him sever'l times. I knowed my wife would 
 keep 'spectin' me and 'spectin' me till I comed. I 
 begged de overseer one dey to jist let me go home ; for 
 I had n't seen my wife den for seven weeks. He got 
 orful vexed at me, and writed to my mass'r 'bout me. 
 
 "Arterward de overseer's wife was mad wit 
 Charity, an my brudder hearn her treaten to send 
 Charity to Eichmond, whar my mass'r was agoin' to 
 send me to be selled. My brudder telled me now 
 was my time to make clar, or else I' d be hussled off 
 'fore I knowed it. 
 
 "Dat mornin' de overseer comed whar I be, an' 
 axed me : ' Charlie, I want ye to come to de house 
 an' work ; cellar steps need 'pairin', as da 'bout 
 given way, and old Charity fell down dem to'der 
 day, and like to have broken her ole thick skull ; 
 'specks she will yet, boy, less ye impair dem. Ye 
 better come right up, Charley, and dood it.' 
 
 ''JSTow I jist knowed dat ole coon was tryin' to 
 lay wait to ketch me, to tie me so he 'd sell me down 
 Souf. I didn't live wid old Hunker for not'in', I 
 tort ; and as I did n't never 'spect much else but my 
 larnin' from him, I bet ye I laid out to make all my 
 larnin' tell. Slavery teaches some t'ings you does n't 
 
 13 
 
290 THE EOYING EDITOR 
 
 find in books, I tell ye. Well, I knowecl clem ar 
 cellar steps would be a long time 'fore da ketclied im- 
 pairs by my fixin's I telled de overseer 
 
 ' Yes, sab,' an' be went struttin' 'bout, 'spectin' every 
 minnit to make a grab at me wdien I corned out. 
 But be did n't t'ougb, bet ye. 
 
 "Arter be sot down to dinner, I jist tort, dem 
 are beels 'longed to me, and so I jest let my legs be 
 'sponsible for rny beels, till da bringed me and my 
 
 beels to de woods I runned all dat arter- 
 
 noon, and in de nex' niglit I got wbar my brudder 
 lived, 'bout five miles off my ^vife. .... Liz- 
 zie was a good wife to me, and I did n't km>w bow I 
 could leave ber. Slavery asunders everyting w^e 
 
 love in dis life, God knows Den I walked 
 
 fifteen mile to my mudder's. I knocked at ber win- 
 der, and telled ber I was ber own Cbarley in great 
 'stress. She comed right to de door, grieved most to 
 def, when I tell'd her mass'r gived overseer commis- 
 sion to sell me. Oh ! I did n't know what to do. 
 My poor ole mudder ! . . . . 
 
 '' I started off an' lef ' ber frettin' mightily. Dat's 
 de las' I knowed 'bout my w^fe or ole mudder, or any 
 ob my 'lations 
 
 " I went to a friend ob mine. lie was gone away. 
 His w^ife knowed I was hungry, and so she ga'en me 
 a right smart supper, and arterwards I intired. In 
 de night her husband comed home. lie 'mediately 
 called me. I 'peared. He say he knowed folks in 
 de Dismal Swamp, and j)'raps he might 'ceedfor me, 
 an' get me 'casion to work dar. He keeped me six 
 days, whar I was hided away an' would n't be 
 'sturbed. Den I hired into de Jumj)er Swamp for 
 two dollars a month. 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 201 
 
 " I 'sjjcct joii 've lieern good deal 'bout dat swamp, 
 ma'am ? Da calls it Dismal Swamp ; and guess good 
 name for it. 'Tis all dreary like. Dar never was 
 any heaven's sunshine in some parts orn't. 
 
 " I boarded wit a man wdiat giv me two" dollars a 
 month for de first one : arter dat I made shingles for 
 mjse'f. Dar are heaps ob folks in dar to work. 
 Most on 'em are fugitives, or else hirin' dar time. 
 Dreadful 'commodatin' in dare to one anudder. De 
 each like de 'vantage ob de odder one's 'tection. Ye 
 see dey's united togedder in'ividually wit same inter- 
 est to stake. [N'ever liearn one speak disinspectively 
 to 'nut'er one : all 'gree as if dey had only one head 
 and one heart, with hunder legs and hunder hands. 
 Dey's more 'commodatin' dan any folks I's ever seed 
 afore or since-. Da lend me dar saws, so I might be 
 'pared to split my shingles ; and den dey turn right 
 'bout and 'commodate demsels. Ye ax me in- 
 scribe de swamp ? 
 
 " AYell : de great Dismal Swamp (dey call it Juni- 
 per Swamp) 'stends from wdiar it begins in IS'orfolk, 
 old Yirginny, to de uj)per part ob Carolina. Dat's 
 what I's told. It stands itse'f more 'n fifty mile north 
 and souf. I worked 'bout four mile 'bove Drummond 
 Lake, which be ten mile wide. De boys used to 
 make canoes out ob bark, and liab a nice time 
 fishin' in de lake. 
 
 '• Best water in Juniper Swamp ever tasted by 
 man.* Dreadful healthy place to live, up in de 
 high land in de cane-brake. 'Speck ye 've hecrn tell 
 on it ? There is reefs ob land — folks call de high 
 lands. In dar de cane-brake grow t'irty feet high. 
 
 * It is stated to liave medicinal properties. 
 
202 THE Rov^ixa editor 
 
 In clem ar can-brakes de ground is kivered wit leaves, 
 kinder makin' a nat'ral bed. Dar be wliar de wild 
 liogs, cow^s, w^olves, and bars (bears) be fonnd. De 
 swamp is lower land, wliar dar's de biggest trees 
 most ever was. De sypress is de handsomest, an' 
 anndder kind called de gnm tree. 
 
 " Dismal Swamp is divided into tree or four parts. 
 Whar I worked da called it Company Swamp. 
 When we wanted fresh pork we goed to Gum 
 Swamp, 'bout sun-dowm, run a wild hog down from 
 de cane-brakes into Juniper Swamp, wdiar dar feet 
 can 't touch hard ground, knock dem over, and dat 's 
 de way we kill dem. De same way we ketch wild 
 cows. "We troed dar bones, arter we eated all de 
 meat off on 'em up, to one side de fire. Many 's de 
 time we waked up and seed de bars skulking round 
 our feet for de boues. Da neber interrupted us ; da 
 knowed better; coz we would gin dem cold shot. 
 Hope I shall live long enough to see de slaveholders 
 feared to interrupt us ! 
 
 . " I tort a sight 'bout my wife, and 
 used allers be planin' how I get to see her agin. Den 
 I heern dat old mass'r made her live wid anudder 
 man, coz I left her. Dis 'formation nearly killed me. 
 I mout 'spected it ; for I knowed de mass'rs neber 
 ingard de marriage 'stution 'spectin' dar slaves. Dey 
 hab de right to make me be selled from my wife, 
 and dey had de right of makin' her live wid anudder 
 man if she hated him like pisin. I do n't blame 
 Lizzie ; but I hoped she would b'lieve dat I was dead ; 
 den she would n't fret herself to def, as I knowed she 
 would if slie reckoned I w^as livin'. She loved me, I 
 knowed, but dat warn't no 'count at all. De slaves 
 are ingarded as dey must marry jist for dar mass'r's 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 293 
 
 iiit'rest. Good many on dem jist many widout any 
 more res23ect for eacli oder den if dey was liogs. 
 . . . . I and my wife warn't so. I married 
 Lizzy, and had a ceremony over it, coz I loved lier 
 an' she loved me. Well, arter I heern dat she was 
 livin' wid 'nudder man, dat ar made me to come to 
 Canada. 
 
 " Ole man Fisher was ns boys' preacher. He 
 rnnned away and nsed to pray, like he's 'n earnest. 
 I camped wid him. Many 's been de 'zortation I 
 have 'spericnced, dat desonnded t'rough de trees, an' 
 we wonld almos' 'spect de judgment day was comin', 
 dar would be such loud nibrations, as de preacher 
 called dem ; 'specially down by de lake. I b'lieve 
 God is no inspector of persons ; an' he knows his 
 childer, and kin hear dem jest as quick in de Juniper 
 Swamp as in de great churches wliat I seed in New 
 York, whar dey don 't 'low a man, as I'm told, to go 
 in thar, if he hasn 't been allers customed to sit on 
 spring bottomed cheers, and sofas and planners and 
 all dem sort of tings. Tank de Lord, he don 't tink 
 so much 'bout spring-bottom cheers as his j)Oor crit- 
 ters do — dat's a fac'. I was fered to peep inside dem 
 ar rich churches, and I 'spects de blessed Lord liis- 
 self dunno much more 'bout dar insides dan I does. 
 , . . . Oh, dey were nice j^raycrs we used to have 
 sometimes, an' I donno but de old preacher is dar 
 now. 
 
 " Dar is families growed up in dat ar Dismal 
 Swamp dat never seed a white man, an' would be 
 sheered most to def to see one. Some runaways 
 went dere wid dar wives, an' dar childers are raised 
 dar. We never had any trouble 'mong us boys ; but 
 I tell you pretty hard tings sometimes 'cnr dat makes 
 
294 THP] EOVING EDITOR 
 
 ye shiver all over, as if ye was frozecl. De master 
 will offer a reward to some one in cle swamp to ketcli 
 liis runaway. So de colored folks got jist as miicli 
 devil in dem as white folks ; I sometimes tink de are 
 jist as voracious arter money. Da 'tray de fugitives 
 to dar masters. Sometimes de masters comes and 
 shoots dem down dead on de spot. ... I saw wid 
 my own eyes when dey shot Jacob. Dat is too bad 
 to 'member. God will not forget it ; never, I bet ye. 
 Six white men comed upon him afore he know^ed 
 nothin' at all 'bout it most. Jist de first ting Jacob 
 seed was his old master, Simon Simms, of Suffolk, 
 Yirginny, standing right afore him. Dem ar men — 
 all on em — had a gun apiece, an' dey every one of 
 dem pointed right straight to de head of poor Jacob. 
 He felt scared most to def. Old Simms hollored out 
 to him — ^ Jake ! You run a step, you nigger, and I'll 
 blow yer brains out.' Jacob didn't know for de 
 life on him what to do. He feared to gin up : he too 
 scared to run ; he dunno what to do. Six guns wdd 
 number two shot, aimed at your head is n't nothin', I 
 tell ye. Takes brave man to stand dat, 'cordin' to 
 my reck'nin'. 
 
 " Jacob lifts up his feet to run. Marcy on him ! 
 De master and one ob de men levelled dar guns, and 
 dar guns levelled poor Jacob. His whole right side 
 from his hip to his heel was cut up like hashmeat. 
 He bleeded orfull. Dey took some willow bark — 
 made a hoop orn't — run a board trough it — put Ja- 
 cob on it like as if he war dead ; run a pole t'rough 
 de willow hoop, and put de poles on dar shoulders. 
 
 " Dreadful scenes, I tell ye, 'sperienced in de Dis- 
 mal Swamp, sometimes, when de masters comes dar. 
 Dey shoot down runaways, and tink no more 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. ' 295 
 
 sendiii' a ball t'rougli dar hearts and sendiu' dar 
 hearts into 'Ternity dan jist nothin' at all. But de 
 balls will be seen in 'Ternitj, when de master gets 
 dar 'spectin' to stay ; 'spect dey'll get dis^Dinted a 
 heap ! 
 
 " I feared to stay dar arter I seed such tings ; so 
 
 I made up my mind to leave 'Spect I better 
 
 not tell de way I comed : foi dar's lots i^jore boys 
 comin' same way I did." 
 
V 
 
 SCENES IX A SLAVE PRISON. 
 
 [From a private letter to Charles Sumner, by Dr. S. G. Howe, 
 of Boston.] 
 
 I HAVE passed ten days in ISTew Orleans — not iin- 
 profitably, I trust — in examining the public institu- 
 tions, the schools, asylums, hospitals, prisons, etc. 
 With the exception of the first, there is little hope of 
 amelioration. I know not how much merit there 
 may be in their system, but I do know that in the 
 administration of the penal code, there are abomina- 
 tions which should bring down the fate of Sodom 
 upon the city. 
 
 A man suspected of a crime and awaiting his trial, 
 is thrust into a pandemonium filled with convicts 
 and outlaws, where, herding and sleeping in common 
 with hardened wretches, he breathes an atmosphere 
 whose least evil is its physical impurity ; and which 
 is loaded with blasphemies, obscenities, and the 
 sound of hellish orgies, intermingled with the clank- 
 ing of the chains of the more furious, who are not 
 caged, but v/ho move about in the crowd with fet- 
 tered legs and hands. 
 
 If Howard or Mrs. Fry ever discovered a worse 
 administered den of thieves than the I^q-w Orleans 
 prison, they never described it. 
 
 2?6 
 
t 
 
 ol 
 her 
 nakeu 
 negro 's 
 ful pc 
 broug] 
 spring 
 and shi 
 fear of 
 lier mas 
 life— do i 
 rid lasli ; . 
 skin ; gash 
 became a li\ 
 ing muscle. 
 
 It was with t, 
 from springing i. 
 lash. But, alas! .. 
 hide my tears for the 
 humanity. 
 
 This was in a public and r. 
 The punishment was one rece 
 by the haw. But, think you, 
 
 13* 
 
3 
 
 rd, 
 
 .vitli 
 
 olaves 
 
 . You 
 
 'd, and 
 
 below. 
 
 ted it ; 
 
 ■y went 
 
 .iiiffliino: 
 
 So low 
 
 ii brutal- 
 
 um stance, 
 
 >Lem of sla- 
 
 .nity may be 
 
 .e stalled ox ; 
 
 3 can be found, 
 
 will fasten tlieir 
 
 ..ce, tliat lie is as 
 
 ipable of any liiglier 
 
 S. G. IIowE. 
 
VI. 
 
 MY OBJECT. 
 
 The reader must have noticed that I took par- 
 ticular pains to ascertain the secret sentiments of the 
 Southern slaves. He must have seen, also, that 
 I never stepped aside to collate or investigate any 
 cases of imusual cruelty, or to portray the neglect 
 of masters in the different States, to provide their 
 bondmen with the comforts of a home or the decen- 
 cies of life. That I had material enough, my sum- 
 mary will show. 
 
 I did not go South to collect the materials for 
 a distant war of words against it. Far more earnest 
 was my aim. 
 
 I saw or believed that one cycle of anti-slavery 
 warfare was about to close — the cycle whose cor- 
 respondences in history are the eras of John Ball, 
 the herald of the brave Jack Cade ; of the Humble 
 Remonstrants wlio preceded Oliver Cromwell, and 
 the Iconoclastic Puritans ; and of the EncyclopiEdists 
 of the age of Louis the Sixtee,nth, whose writings 
 prepared the way for the French Eevolution. I 
 believed that the cycle of action was at hand. I 
 considered it, therefore, of importance to know the 
 feelings and aspirations of the slaves. I cared little, 
 comparativelv with this object, to ascertain their 
 
 299 
 
300 THE KOVING EDITOK 
 
 physical condition. I never even read a book on tlie 
 subject — a volume of fiction alone excepted — until 
 the manuscripts of the preceding jiages were placed 
 in the hands of the printer. I knew that irrepres- 
 sible power must, from its very nature, corrupt men, 
 and make them cruel, hear,tless, and licentious. It 
 would have been useless to travel South to corrobo- 
 rate that truth. 
 
 My object was. to aid the slaves. If I found that 
 slavery had so far degraded them, that they were 
 comparatively contented with their debased condi- 
 tion, I resolved, before I started, to spend my 
 time in the South, in disseminating discontentment- 
 But if, on the other hand, I found them ripe for 
 a rebellion, my resolution was to prepare the way 
 for it, as far as my ability and opportunities per- 
 mitted. 
 
 I believed that a civil war between the E'orth and 
 South would ultimate in insurrection, and that the 
 Kansas troubles would probably create a military 
 conflict of the sections. Hence I left the South^ and 
 w^ent to Kansas ; and endeavored, personally and by 
 my pen, to precipitate a revolution. That we failed 
 — for I w^as not alone in this desire — was owinff 
 to the influence of prominent Rej)ublican statesmen, 
 whose unfortunately conservative character of counsel 
 — which it was impossible openly to resist — efl'ect- 
 ually baflled all our hoj)es : hopes which Democratic 
 action was auspiciously promoting. 
 
 Are we, then, -w^ithout hope ? 
 
 ITo! and, while slaves live, and the God of justice 
 is omnipotent, never will we be discouraged. Eevo- 
 lutions never go backward. The second American 
 Revolution has begun. Kansas was its Lexington : 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 301 
 
 Texas will be its Bunker Hill, and South Carolina 
 its Yorhtown. 
 
 It is fashionable for our animalcnlaB-statesmen 
 to lament or affirm that slavery cannot speedily be 
 abolislied. It is so wrouirlit and interwoven with 
 the social system of the South — with its commercial, 
 political, and religious organizations — that to root it 
 out at once, they maintain, would be disastrous to 
 the country and to the slave himself. Perish the 
 country, then, and woe to the slave ! Whatever 
 falls, let slavery perish. Whoever suffers, let 
 slavery end. If the Union is to be the price of a 
 crime, let us repent of the iniquity and destroy the 
 bond. 
 
 Do you desire to aid in overthrowing slavery ? 
 There is work for you to do, whatever may be your 
 talents or ideas of policy. 
 
 — Shall I venture to predict? It may be that 
 I am not a prophet — but, as far as we believe in 
 humanity, and right, and an overruling God, we 
 have the power of foreseeing results. All fanatics 
 are prophets to the extent of their vision — for fana- 
 ticism is the ardent worshij) of a truth ; and by its 
 light we can — nay, must — see th*e sequences of acts 
 performed in accordance or in violation of it. And I 
 am a fanatic. 
 
 Slavery will be speedily abolished. That I see. I 
 think, by violence ; nay, I know by bloodshed, if the 
 present spirit long pervades the South. " Unless it 
 repents it shall utterly perish." 
 
 Slavery will soon be driven east of the Mississippi. 
 
 Missouri — already surrounded by free communi- 
 ties ; with friends of the slave, from the adjoining ter- 
 ritory, ever active on her borders ; with the money 
 
302 THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 of the mercliant, tlie selfisliness of tlie laborer, and 
 the ambition of the politician arrayed against her 
 domestic institution, and the fear of the slaveholder 
 justly aroused for tlie safety of his property in man 
 — this State, so recently the champion of the South, 
 will be the first to succumb to the spirit of the 
 JN^orth, and realize the truth that they who take the 
 sword shall perish by it. 
 
 South of Kansas lies a fertile region already dark- 
 ened by the curse of slavery. It is the Indian Terri- 
 tory. It will soon be thrown open for the settlement 
 of the white race. Another struggle will ensue — and 
 another victory for freedom ; for the men who, at 
 Yellow Stone, fired at Federal troops, and, at Osa- 
 wattomie — seventeeii against four hundred — made 
 the embattled marauders bite the dust, will be there 
 to avenge the martyrs of Lawrence and the Marais 
 des Cygnes. "Will they have no other aid ? Yes ; 
 for there are negroes enslaved in the Indian Territory : 
 the descendants of the bravest warriors America has 
 produced — the hunted maroons, who, for forty years, 
 in the swamps of Florida, defied the skill and armies 
 of the United States. They hate slavery and the 
 race that upholds it, and are longing for an opportu- 
 nity to display that hatred. Not far from this terri- 
 tory, in a neighboring province of Mexico, live a na- 
 tion of trained negro soldiers — the far-famed Florida 
 Indians, who, after bafiiing and defj^ing the United 
 States, and after having been treacherously enslaved 
 by the Creeks, incited thereto by Federal officials, 
 bravely resisted their oppressors and made an Exo- 
 dus, the grandest since the days of Moses, to a land 
 of freedom. Already have their oppressors felt their 
 prowess ; and their historian tells us — " they will he 
 
IN HIS SANCTUM. 303 
 
 heard from again.^^ '^' Mark the significant warn- 
 ing! 
 
 Arrizonla is a mining conntiy. There is gold, sil- 
 ver and copper there. It requires skilled labor to 
 extract them from the ore. Free laborers will flock to 
 these regions as soon as it is profitable to go, and 
 overwhelm, bj mere immerical force, the champions of 
 the Southern system. The wild Indians, too, are the 
 friends of the negro. Tlic diplomacy of the Florida 
 Indians has made them the eternal enemies of the 
 South. The nation will see this fact when the Texan 
 struggle he gins. 
 
 Slavery can never be extended into IN'orthern 
 Mexico. Tlie people hate it. Through all the multi- 
 tudinous mutations of their history, this hatred has 
 been the only established principle which pervaded 
 the entire nation. If color is to be the bado^e of 
 bondage, tliey know that they must succumb to it, if 
 the Southern " Xorman " obtains dominion in their 
 land. For the Mexicans of the frontier provinces 
 are of mixed Indian, Negro and S23anisli origin. 
 There are numbers of fugitives from American sla- 
 very among them, who superadd to a deadly national 
 animosity, a still stronger hatred of a race of ty- 
 rants. 
 
 Texas is a tempting bait for the North ; the great- 
 est territorial prize of the age. By tlie terms of its 
 admission, it may be divided into five States. What 
 shall the character of those States be? Tliere are 
 numbers of resolute pioneers in Kansas who have 
 sworn that Texas shall again be free — as it was under 
 Mexican domination — before the " flag of the free " 
 
 * Sec " The Exiles of Florida," by Joshua K. Giddings. 
 
.301 ' THE KOVING EDITOR 
 
 waved over it. They have declared that a line of 
 free States shall extend, southward, to the Mexican 
 Gulf ; that slavery shall, westward, find the bound 
 which it cannot pass. Within the borders of Texas 
 there is already a numerous free-labor population, 
 whose numbers, by the organized emigration move- 
 ment, will sj)eedily be increased and presently pre- 
 ponderate. The wealth of the l!^orth, which, would 
 shudder at tlie idea of a servile insurrection, is 
 already pledged to the programme of anti-slaveiy 
 emigration — which, as surely as to-morrow's sun shall 
 rise, will ultimately and rapidly drive slavery to the 
 eastern shore of the Mississij^pi. 
 
 Thus far, the programme will be essentially 
 pacific — at most, a conflict of sections and rival 
 civilizations. Thus far, but no further, political ac- 
 tion may benefit the slave. The Republican party, 
 the champion of white laborers, will plead their 
 cause and insure them success. To this extent, 
 therefore, the friend of the slave can consistently aid 
 the Republican party ; but, this end gained, it will 
 be his duty to desert and war against it. For it is 
 publicly pledged never to interfere, by political action, 
 with slavery where it already exists ; but, on the con- 
 trary, to preserve and defend whatever may be " pro- 
 tected by the segis of State sovereignty." ^ 
 
 West of the Mississippi and in the State of Missouri, 
 therefore, the friend of the slave, from the inevitable 
 operation of potent political and commercial forces, 
 may leave, to a great extent, the fate of slavery to 
 peaceful causes or otlier than distinctively abolition 
 movements. 
 
 * See J. C. Fremont's Letter of Acceptance, and the Republican 
 Campaign Documents, passim. 
 
IN ni3 SANCTUM. 305 
 
 Westward, slavery cannot go. Korthward, its influ- 
 ence daily diminislies. Tlie sentiment of tlie Eastern 
 world is hostile to it always. Can it extend South- 
 ward? It will look in vain to Central America. 
 The same mixed races who hate the modern " JSTor- 
 man" in Mexico inhabit those regions, and are ani- 
 mated by the same true spirit ; and the attempt, if 
 ever made, to subdue this people, in order to extend 
 the area of bondage, will justly precipitate a war with 
 the powers of Europe. The South does not dare to 
 hazard a war with such great powers on such an 
 issue. 
 
 The islands of the American ilrchipelago are to-day 
 almost exclusively in the hands of the liberated Afri- 
 can race. The first serious attevipt at annexation will 
 jpiit them entirely in the jpossession of the Macks, 
 Cuba has already, within her borders, seven thousand 
 self-emancipated citizens ; and it is a fact, well known 
 in our State Department, that the Spanish rulers of 
 that island would unhesitatingly arm the black popu- 
 lation, both slave and free, in the event of any serious 
 attempt at conquest. 
 
 But I would not fear the extension of American 
 slavery, even if the neighboring nations were more 
 friendly to it. The South will soon find enough to 
 do at home. Canada has hitherto been the safety 
 valve of Southern slavery. The bold and resolute 
 negroes, who were fitted by their character to incite 
 the slaves to rebellion, and lead them on to victory, 
 have hitherto, by the agency of the underground 
 railroad, been triumphantly carried off to a land of 
 freedom. The more sagacious Southrons have seen 
 this fact, and congratulated themselves on it. Tliey 
 forget that the same qualities whicli induced these 
 
300 
 
 THE EOVrN"G EDITOR. 
 
 slaves to %, would enable them, in their new home, 
 to accumulate riches; and that to men who have 
 endured the tyranny of slavery, there is nothing so 
 much coveted as the hope of revenge. There are 
 thousands of dollars in the Canadian Provinces which 
 are ready for the use of the insurrectionists. 
 
 But is insurrection possible ? 
 
 I believe that it is. The only thing that has 
 hitherto prevented a universal revolt, is the impossi- 
 bility of forming extended combinations. This the 
 slave code effectually prevents. To attain this end, 
 therefore, the agency of white men is needed. 
 
 Are there men ready for this holy work ? 
 
 I thank God that there are. There are men who 
 are tired of praising the French patriots — who are 
 ready to he Lafayettes and Kosciuskos to the slaves. 
 
 Do you ask for a programme of action ? 
 
 The negroes and the Southrons have taught us. 
 The slaves of the Dismal Swamp, the maroons of 
 Florida, the free-state men of Kansas, have pointed 
 out the method. The South committed suicide when 
 it compelled the free squatters to resort to guerilla 
 warfare, and to study it loth as a mode of subsistence 
 and a science. For the mountains, the swamps and 
 morasses of the South, are peculiarly adapted to this 
 mode of combat, and there are numbers of young men, 
 trained to the art in the Kansas ravines, who are 
 eager for an oj)portunity of avenging their slain com- 
 rades, on the real authors of their death, in the forests 
 and plantations of the Carolinas and Georgia. 
 
 Will you aid them — will you sustain tJum f Are 
 you in favor of a servile insurrection f 
 
 Tell God in acts. 
 
 Jfaufodl. 
 
SLAYERY m KANSAS. 
 
 THE FIRST SLAVE IN KANSAS. 
 
 I WAS one day in an office wliere I occasionally 
 called. A colored woman entered the room, in- 
 quired for me, and presented a note of introduction 
 from an eminent reformer. She told me her sad 
 story. She had been a slave, but had been liberated. 
 She had a son in slavery. Having tasted the bitter 
 draught of bondage, she was ^vorldng, night and day, 
 to save her son from the curse. 
 
 He was in Parkville, Missouri. His master or 
 masters had offered to sell him for eleven hundred 
 dollars. She had nearly raised the sum, when she 
 wrote to him again. Instead of receiving an en- 
 couraging reply, the following inhuman note was 
 sent to the gentleman who wrote in her behalf: 
 
 Parkvill sept, dth 1857 
 
 sir I recived yours of the 28 of August you Say that the 
 
 Mother of Miller is verry anxious to Buy liim. I have rote 
 
 some too or three Letter in relation to the time and Price now 
 
 all I have to say is if you want him you must come by the lust 
 
 807 
 
308 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 of Oct or yoii will have to come to Texs for him & I will not 
 consider my Self under any obligation to take the same price 
 after the first of Oct. if you can get here by the 20 of this 
 Month per haps it would be better for you for I want to start 
 soon as I can & by the 1 of Oct is the out Side time 
 
 your in hast 
 
 John Wallis 
 
 Mr Hexey Mor — * 
 
 The poor mother did not think that Mr. Wallacef 
 had the remotest intention of removing to " Texs ;" 
 but believed that it was a pretext to raise the price 
 of her boy ; and, as she was nearly worn out already 
 with anxiety and travel, she was beginning to despair 
 of rescuing him from bondage. 
 
 Could I do anything for her? Could I not run 
 him off? I told her I would try. Shortly after this 
 interview I went out to Kansas. It was some months 
 before I could see any hope of successftdly attempt- 
 ing to liberate her boy. The weather was so un- 
 usually mild that the river was not frozen over until 
 some time after ]^ew Year's Day. I then made a 
 trip to Parkville ; carefully, of course, concealing my 
 intention. 
 
 I saw the boy at the livery stable and spoke to 
 him privately. lie refused to try to escape. He 
 would not run the risk of recapture. He appeared, 
 in fact, indifferent to his fate. I afterwards spoke to 
 him, in the presence of a slaveholder, of tlie eiforts of 
 his mother to secure his freedom. He did not think, 
 he said, that she could do it. She had written about 
 it so often that he had given over all hope. He 
 
 * Illegible in the MS. 
 
 f This is the Capt. Wallace mentioned in the chapter on Lynching 
 an abolitionist. 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 309 
 
 did n't kcer iiuicli about it, nohow. lie had n't, he 
 said, much feelin' for his kinsfolks. lie had seen 
 his father the other day — the first time for a number 
 of years. The old man ran to meet him, and put out 
 his hand ; but he would n't take it, would n't call him 
 father — only " that man !" He said that his father 
 w^as living with another woman now, and had a family 
 not very far off; but he had never called to see 
 them, and never intended to go near them. He 
 made another remark that shocked me so much that 
 I determined to leave him to his fate. 
 
 He told me that he had a brother, the property of 
 a Mr. Pitcher, who lived in the town of Liberty. I 
 mounted my horse and went there. I soon saw 
 Pitcher. He was sitting in the public room of the 
 hotel, with his feet against the dirty stove. His 
 talk was of bullocks and blooded horses, w^itli which, 
 in all their varieties — with their genealogical his- 
 tory, and the various faux jpas of their different 
 branches — and other interesting equestrian informa- 
 tion, he was as fjimiliar as the thorough bred cock- 
 ney is with the scandal of the Green Eoom, or the 
 bed-room mysteries of the leading houses of the Brit- 
 ish aristocracy. As I rode a splendid steed, I was 
 soon, to all outward appearance, as deeply interested 
 in horse-history as he was. From horses to slaves 
 the transition was easy. He had come from the 
 North, he said, with anti-slavery sentiments. But 
 he soon saw his error. He was a slaveholder 
 now; and thought that it was not only right, but 
 best for the nigger, for the white man to hold him as 
 property. " My niggers, sir," he said, " are well 
 fed ; they 've got plenty of good clothing ; if they 're 
 sick, I have to foot tlie doctor's bill ; I work as hard 
 
310 THE KOVIXG EDITOR. 
 
 as tliej do — and harder too ; only, they work with 
 their hands and I work with my head !" 
 
 I could not help langhing. For I never saw a 
 lazier-looking fellow in my life ; and, if there is any 
 truth in 'phrenological science, it might easily be dis- 
 puted whether he had got any head to work with. 
 I asked him how much he would sell Georgy for ? 
 Georgy was the brother of Millar. " He wonld 
 take," he said, " one thousand dollars down. Kary 
 cent less. 'No, sir, nary cent ; he was a right smart 
 boy and would bring that any day." 
 
 I waited in Liberty two or three days in the hope 
 of meeting the boy. I would have waited some 
 days longer, but my departure was hastened by an 
 act of carelessness. Liberty had distinguished her- 
 self, during the Kansas troubles, by her nltra devo- 
 tion to " Southern Rights." She sent out bands of 
 brutal men to vote and fight for slavery in Kansas. 
 When in my room, at the hotel, I j^erpetrated the 
 following atrocity : 
 
 ON LIBERTY IN MISSOURI. 
 
 As maids (or r/7tmaids), if vou'U pardon the new phrase, 
 Who ne'er have trodden Virtue's straight and narrow ways, 
 
 But sell their foul desires, 
 "Whose path (says Solomon), leads downward to the grave 
 
 And the infernal firee. 
 Are styled by bacchanals and rakes, Nymphs (of the pave !) 
 
 So, on slave soil, we see 
 A town, renowned for despot deeds and ruflSan bands, 
 Self-styled by men with Freedom's life-blood-dropping hands 
 
 The Town of — Liberty ! 
 
 With my usual carelessness, I left this poetical abor- 
 tion on the table. When I returned, it was gone. JSTow, 
 as, upon reflection, I saw that the execution of these 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 311 
 
 lines gave sufficient warrant and excuse for my own 
 execution, I detennincd to depart without delay, 
 which — saddling up my horse at once — I forthwith 
 did, leaving the " right smart boy "' in slavery — in 
 Liberty. 
 
 I heard nothing of the slave mother or her children, 
 until, coming to New York to correct the final proofs 
 of this volnme, I met her and her son at the house of 
 a gentleman of color. As the publisher required 
 more copy still, I determined to narrate the history 
 of this slave. It is subjoined. I reported her own 
 language, as she replied to my questions. The ar- 
 rangement of it, therefore, is all that I can claim. 
 
 This woman has never seen the harshest features of 
 slavery ; for she lived in the State, where, of all 
 others, it exists in its mildest form ; she had, also, 
 as she says, a kind old master, until the marriage of 
 his children ; and Mr. Hinckley, as is evident, 
 although a Haynau and petty despot, never punished 
 her with unusual severity or frequency. This, then, 
 is a picture of slavery in its most pleasing aspects. 
 
 Of many of the facts she relates I have personal 
 knowledge; and her character for veracity is vouched 
 for by every one who knows her. 
 
 Another word, before her narrative begins. She 
 was the first slave, or one of the first slaves, ever held 
 in Kansas. She was kept there in bondage, in a 
 Military Reservation, under the immediate shadow 
 of the Federal flag. The North, whether accounta- 
 ble for or guiltless of slavery in the South, is morally 
 responsible for its existence in the Federal forts. 
 Will the Ttepublicans see that their Congressional 
 Representatives shall instantly withdraw this Federal 
 protection, and instantly abolish slavery, wherever — 
 
313 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 according to tlieir own theories — tliej have the power 
 to reach and extinguish it ? Unless the People com- 
 pel them, they will never attempt it. But, to the 
 slave mother's narrative : 
 
 AN OLD KENTUCKY HOME. 
 
 " I was born and raised in Madison county, Ken- 
 tucky. I will be thirty-nine next August. I be- 
 longed to Mr. William Campbell. I was raised in 
 the same family as Lewis Clarke, who has written a 
 book about his life. My master lived on Silver 
 Creek, about eight miles from Eichmond. He owned 
 nineteen or tw^enty slaves. My mother belonged to 
 him; my father to Mr. Barrett, who lived about three 
 miles ofl". My mother was always the cook of the 
 family. I lived in Kentucky till I was about four- 
 teen years of age, when old master moved oiF to Clay 
 county, Missouri, carrying my mother with him, and 
 all her children, excepting Millar, who had been sold 
 to one of Mr. Campbell's cousins. She had thirteen 
 children at that time, and had one more in Missouri. 
 One daughter died on the journey. 
 
 A KIND MASTER. 
 
 " They parted my father and mother ; but, wdien 
 in Indiana, old master went back and bought him. 
 He left us in charge of a son-in-law, and rejoined us 
 with my father in Missouri. My poor mother ! It 
 seems to me too bad to talk about it. You have no 
 idee what it is to be parted ; nobody knows but them 
 that's seen it and felt it. The reason that old master 
 went back to Kentucky and bought my father, was 
 because my mother grieved so about being separated 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 613 
 
 from liim. She did not tliink about running away. 
 Slaves did n't long for freedom in tliose days ; they 
 were quiet and had plenty of privileges then. 
 
 " We were treated pretty well in Kentucky. Mr. 
 Campbell was a kind master ; one of the best there 
 was. He had between six and seven hundred acres 
 of land, but he did not push his hands ; he was wxll 
 off and did not seem to care ; so we did pretty much 
 as w^e pleased. 
 
 " Millar, who was left in Kentucky, was sold South ; 
 none of us have ever heard of him since." 
 
 THEORY OF THE MAEKIAGE OF SLAVES. 
 
 u ^Q g[j.\Q ^QYQ r^ll unmarried when we moved to 
 Missouri, and excepting Millar, we all lived together 
 till old master's family began to set up for them- 
 selves. I was the first that got married. It was the 
 next year after we went to Missouri that I was mar- 
 ried to Nathaniel Noll. There was about three 
 hundred people at my wedding. When a respect- 
 able colored girl gets married, it is the custom there, 
 and in Kentucky, for all the neighbors, white and 
 black, to come and see the ceremony. Colored peo- 
 ple and whites associate more in the South than in 
 the JSTorth. They go to parties together, and dance 
 together. Colored 2:)eople enjoy themselves more in 
 tiie South than in any other part of the world, be- 
 cause they don't know their condition. 
 
 " We were married by Mr. Chandler, at my mas- 
 ter's house. I remember the words he said after I 
 was married ; says Mr. Campbell, says he, ^ You join 
 these people together ; that is, till 1 cJwose to make a 
 separation.'^ I heard it m^'self. lie went up to the 
 
 14 
 
314: THE KOYING EDITOK. 
 
 minister just as soon as the ceremony was over, and 
 said it aloud, in presence of everybody in the room. 
 I was young and hapj)y, and didn't think much 
 about it then, but I've often, often thought about it 
 
 PEACTICE AT THE MARRIAGE OF SLAVEHOLDERS. 
 
 " Sam was the first of my master's family married. 
 "When he married, the old man gave him Ellen and 
 Daniel, my sister and brother. Daniel was tAvelve 
 or thirteen ; Ellen ten years old. She died soon 
 after, from the effects of a cold, brought on by insuf- 
 ficient clothing. Otherwise she was well treated. 
 
 " My husband belonged to Mr. Noll, who lived 
 about seven miles below our place. He was half- 
 hr other to his master. His mother was his father's 
 slave. After we were married, he used to come up 
 every Saturday night, and leave before daylight on 
 Monday morning. He was treated pretty well. 
 
 " I staid about four years w^ith old master, until 
 his daughter. Miss Margaret Jane, was married to 
 M^Y. Levi Hinhle. Then the old man gave me and 
 f.wo of my children to her. My oldest boy he kept. 
 I had liad a pretty easy life till I got with them. 
 Hinkle lived at Fort Leavenworth ; he was a forage 
 master. It w^as about fourteen years ago. I was 
 taken immediately to Fort Leavenworth, with my 
 two little children, and have never seen my husband 
 since, excepting twice, both times wdthin six months 
 after Mr. Hinkle's marriage. IS^athaniel came up to 
 Fort Leavenworth three months after oiir separation ; 
 and then, agai^, three months from that visit. Last 
 ame his master told him that he would never allow 
 him to leave the State again. That is fourteen years 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 315 
 
 ago ; I have never seen liim since. My boy, Millar, 
 says that he saw him recently, and that he lives with 
 another woman, and has a family by her." 
 
 " Daniel, my brother, was sold by Sam. Campbell 
 to a man in Clay county, and lives there yet. 
 
 " Mahal a, my oldest sister, was given to Mr. Green 
 AYliite, who was married to Mary Ann Campbell. 
 She got married after she went home with them. 
 She had five children by her husband, and' then she 
 was sold away from them. Her husband, Joe Brown, 
 was driven out of the house some three or four years 
 before she was sold ; he belonged to another master, 
 and Mr. AYhite did not like him about his house. I 
 know nothing about Joe ; his Avife was sold some- 
 where up in Andrew county, and . I have heard no- 
 thing of her since. I do not think she has ever seen 
 
 her children from that time. I know that four of 
 them are with Mr. "White yet, and that she is not 
 there ; and that, about two months after she was 
 taken away, her oldest boy, Henry, was sold down 
 South. My son has kept track of them. 
 
 " Mahala told me she was treated very badly by 
 her mistress. She often tried to whip Mahala ; but 
 as she was sickly she couldn't do it — for we girls 
 never would allow a woman to strike us — and so she 
 had to get her husband to do it. He often whipped 
 her ; sometimes stripped her, and sometimes not." 
 
 A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 
 
 "Serena and Manda, my other sisters, were both 
 sold out of the family, privately, to a man of the 
 
316 THE EOYING EDITOR. 
 
 name of Elislia Arnngton,^^ of Platte couiitj, Mis- 
 souri. He lives on the prairie between Fort Leaven- 
 worth and Clay countj, near the dividing line of 
 Platte. I cannot say much of the life of Mandy, as 
 I have only seen her once since. Mr. Arriiigton 
 owned two men also. Both of my sisters were mar- 
 ried while they belonged to him. Mr. Arrington 
 met a great misfortune, and sold all his slaves, and 
 swore he would never keep another nigger about 
 him, but compel his daughter to do the kitchen work 
 herself." 
 
 " What do you mean," I asked, " when you say a 
 great misfortune ?" 
 
 She hesitated, but finally told me that " his daugh- 
 ter bore a child to one of his slaves. The boy was 
 frightened, and ran away to Kansas, but was brought 
 back in chains and sold. Manda was sold to a Mr. 
 Jacks. Mr. Jacks is a very nice sort of man, but 
 his wife treated Manda very badly. Our family are 
 all high-spirited, and would never let a w^oman strike 
 them. That ^s the reason %ohy we ^ve heen sold so 
 often. 
 
 '' Serena was sold to a man named Yates, wdio 
 lived up in Savannah. He bought her husband too. 
 Mr. Yates kept her about seven years. I^one of us 
 knew where she was all the time. She had two or 
 three children. Then he sold her, but hejjt her 
 children. Slie has been sold twice since ; each time 
 with her husband, hut each time away from her 
 children. He belongs now to a man named Links, 
 who lives somewhere in Platte county." 
 
 * Or Errington, Malinda did not know how it was spelt. 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 317 
 
 THE OTHER SISTER SOLD. 
 
 " Maria (anotlier sister) was sold by Mr. Campbell 
 next winter after I was married. Poor little thing ! 
 she was taken out of the yard, one day, as she was 
 running about — so young and hapj^y-like. It almost 
 broke old mother's heart. Campbell was an old vil- 
 lain, he was, although he did not whip us often, and 
 fed us well. !N^obody but an old villain would have 
 treated poor old mother so, after she had worked for 
 him so long and faithful. Campbell would always 
 make us take our own part, even against his ov/n 
 young one, or an}' bod}^ else's : he would n't allow 
 anybody to whip us except himself. Maria was sold 
 to a man named Phelps." 
 
 " The Cono^ressman ?" I asked. 
 
 " ]^o," she said, sneeringly, ^' not that old Phelps : 
 he was not smart enough : this Phelps lived north of 
 Estelle's Mills, near Clinton. She was not treated 
 like human — she was treated like a dog by both of 
 them. I saw her once at Phelps's ; she was twenty- 
 one or twenty-two then. But we did not get much 
 chance to talk ; I staid there only a few minutes. 
 She told me she was treated very badly ; she looked 
 broken-hearted, poor thing ; she was n't clad decent ; 
 she had not a shoe to her feet. I saw the marks of 
 the whip on her neck, and shoulders and arms. Poor 
 child ! it made me sad to see her. She had two 
 young ones : but I do n't know whether she was mar- 
 ried or not." 
 
 FATE OF HER EROTUERS. 
 
 " Howard, my brother, the old man gave to his 
 son John, who took to gambling and horse-racing, 
 a,nd got into debt ; then he mortgaged him to a man 
 
318 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 by the name of Murray, of Platte city. He is a very 
 good master, I hear. Howard is with him now. 
 
 " Lewis ran away into Kansas six or seven years 
 before the wars there ; but they brought him back in 
 irons, and he is there yet. Lewis was married to a 
 girl that belonged to another man, and had two 
 children by her. Then Mr. Williams, who owned 
 her, moved into Jackson county, and took her and 
 her young ones with him. Lewis has never seen 
 them since." 
 
 THE OLD AND YOUNG FOLKS. 
 
 " My youngest sister, I do n't know anything about. 
 
 " Angeline, another sister, was sold to Col. Park, 
 of Parkville. She is with him yet. He is a kind 
 master ; but you know more of her than I do. 
 
 "My old father is dead. The separation of our 
 family broke the hearts of my fiither and mother. 
 It was dreadful to see the way my old mother took 
 on about it. You could hear her screaming every 
 nioflit as she was dreamino; about them. It seemed 
 so hard, l^o sooner was she beginning to get 
 sort-of reconciled to one child being gone, than an- 
 other was taken and sold away from her. My poor 
 old mother ! It was awful to see her. And yet they 
 say we have no feelings !" 
 
 The relation of these facts so excited Malinda, that 
 it was Avith difficulty that she could compose herself 
 to conclude the narrative. I told her to confine her- 
 self now to her personal history. 
 
 SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 
 
 " I was taken to Port Leavenworth some two or 
 three years — it may be more — before the Mexican 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 319 
 
 war. My oldest hoj was three years old then ; now 
 he is twentj-two. 
 
 " My oldest boy, as I said, was kept at home. My 
 youngest child, Julia, was about three years old ; she 
 di-ed about two years afterwards. Georgy was but 
 a boy. " Oh ! how I used to worry ! Oh ! I was n't 
 nobody. It did n't seem as if I keered for anything or 
 anybody in the world. I was worrying about my 
 husband and boy. Then he treated me badly, and 
 she treated me badly. I was well clothed, and well 
 fed; they couldn't have starved me if they had 
 wanted to ; for I was their body servant and house- 
 keeper, and had everything to look after. They 
 allowed me everything. We got along pretty well 
 the first two or three years. She did not begin 
 to get ugly till she began to have children. Then 
 she began to get ugly. They were bad and it wor- 
 ried her. She did not bring them up right. She 
 never was pleasant after she began to have children. 
 You would not have thought it was the same 
 
 SLAVERY EN THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 " She seemed to he very jealous of Trie. She seemed 
 to think her husband liked me too well. She could 
 not bear him to give me anything, or to say any- 
 thing in my favor. When he went to Weston and 
 got anything for me, she would figlit about it; and, 
 sometimes, she would get hold of it, and not let mo 
 have it ; then he would insist on her giving it up ; 
 and then they would fight. I attended to my work 
 well, and he treated me well ; but she could not bear 
 to hear me praised. This sort of tyranny^ occasioned 
 
 * He is still in slavery. 
 
320 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 ly jealousy^ is one of the most common causes of the 
 had treaUnent of the domestic servants of the South. 
 It is far more common than anybody knows of; for 
 Southern gentlemen, generally, are very partial to 
 colored girls. This makes a continual feud in fami- 
 lies." 
 
 " Does not the church take notice of these things 
 whenever they become public ?" I inquired. 
 
 " No ! Southern clergymen are no better than 
 worldly folks. I know of my own self about them. 
 I have know^n Southern ministers, my own self, make 
 impudent advances to me in tlie very Sunday schools. 
 Colored women know what they are. 
 
 "My mistress used to go home every two or 
 three months. She always took me with her ; she 
 would not trust me alone at the Fort. She never 
 tried to strike me at Fort Leavenworth, because her 
 husband would not allow it. When she got home to 
 her father's, she tried to get him to whip me. He 
 refused. One day, w^hen I had her child in my arms, 
 she came up behind me, and struck me with a broom 
 over the head. I had a good mind to throw her 
 child into the fire, but I restrained my temper, and 
 didn't say a word to her. When we got back to 
 Fort Leavenworth, she boasted to Aunt Jennie (her 
 husband's other slave), that she had struck me once 
 and would keep it up now. I heard her, and said, loud 
 enough for her to hear me, that if she ever laid her 
 hand on me again, she would not get off so easy 
 as she did before. After that, she seemed afraid to 
 try. But, one morning, she got angry at me, seized a 
 broom, and attempted to strike me with it. I seized 
 hold of another, and made at her. She didn't dare 
 to strike. She told her husband about it. He tied 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 321 
 
 me lip, striiDped me, and lashed me, till the blood 
 rained off my back and arms. Then lie put hand- 
 cuffs on me and threatened to sell me South. I 
 talked back to him, and told him that I wished he 
 iDould sell me. It makes me mad to think about it. 
 AYhen these Yankees come out to be slaveholders, 
 are n't they fiends ?" 
 
 "Was Hinkle," I asked, " a Xew Englander?" 
 
 " IS'o," she said, " he was a Pennsylvanian. Well : 
 after he got through, I told him that if his wife ever 
 tried to strike me, I w^ould half kill her. She never 
 did try again. But of all the devils that ever lived, 
 she was the worst. She tormented me in every way 
 she could, and make me right miserable, I tell you. 
 
 " I found out that Ilinkle was trying to sell me, 
 and sought secretly to find a master to suit me. A 
 gentleman who knew me — a Missouri slaveholder — 
 ofiered to buy me, take me with him to California, 
 and liberate me after two years. When Ilinkle 
 found out that I had a cliance to be free, he refused 
 to sell me, and he and my friend had a regular row 
 
 about it. The way Col. E did abuse him, and 
 
 .Northern men who held slaves, made him terrible 
 angry. Ilinkle then tried to make me contented ; 
 denied that he had intended to sell me, and told me 
 he would never part with me if I would be a good 
 girl. I told him I would never be contented in his 
 service again, and he had better find a purchaser as 
 soon as he could do it. 
 
 " Soon after this quarrel, he went to Pennsylvania 
 to see his folks and his wife placed me in the care of 
 Mr. White, her brother-in-law. They treated me 
 like a lady, excepting that they watched me like a 
 dog. They were afraid that I would run away, and 
 
 14* 
 
322 THE ROYIXG EDITOK. 
 
 never trusted me a minute out of tlieir sight. They 
 took me to meeting in their own carriage, and made 
 me come back in the same way. They made me 
 sleej) in their bedi'oom, on a mattress on the floor, but 
 paid no regard to my feelings, any more than if I was 
 a cat. 
 
 " "When they found that I would not be contented 
 nohow, they agreed to sell me. Major Ogden knew 
 me at the Fort ; and, when he heard I was for sale, 
 came down and asked me if I was willing that he 
 should buy me. He said that he would only keep 
 me until I paid for myself in work. He would allow 
 me ten dollars a month. But he could not buy my 
 children. 
 
 " I agreed to go with him. He would not have 
 bought me unless I had been willing to go. I led a 
 first-rate life. I had more work to do than ever in 
 my life before ; but I had plenty of privileges, and did 
 not complain when I was treated so well. I was 
 thirteen years at Fort Leavenworth, eight years with 
 Hinkle, and five years with the Major's family. 
 
 "Before my time was out, the Major took me to 
 Connecticut. He was ordered West with his regi- 
 ment, and died at Fort Riley. I did not try to run 
 away ; I was willing to work my time out. But, if 
 he had wished me to return to a Slave State. I would 
 not have gone with him. I would not trust any one 
 with my freedom. ' A bird in the hand,' I thought, 
 ' was worth two in the bush.' These JSTorthern people, 
 when they taste slavery, like it as well as anybody. 
 "When they change, they are so diiierent. 
 
 " I have been free, in every way, for two years now." 
 
 Here the narrative of the mother ends. The first 
 thing that she did, after having faithfully carried out 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 6'Z6 
 
 her contract with the Major's family, was to work till 
 she saved the sum of fifty dollars. That amount she 
 placed in the bank, as the first installment for the pur- 
 chase of her son at Parkville. It heads the long list 
 of subscriptions which ultimately enabled her to buy 
 him. I find that the fourth name on the list is the 
 Editor of the Journal of Commerce. The world does 
 move after all ! 
 
 She travelled from city to city, and from State to 
 State, receiving pecuniary aid from hundreds of per- 
 sons — in sums varying from twenty-five cents up to 
 ^NQ and ten dollars. The master of her boy unfortu- 
 nately heard of her zeal and success, and, with truly 
 characteristic barbarity, raised the price of his slave 
 to §1,200. That this amount was duly paid, this 
 copy of his certificate of freedom will show : 
 
 FREE PATERS. 
 
 lanoto all iHttt bp tfecsc ^Drtscnts, That we, John H. ISTash, and 
 William Nash, of Platte County, Missouri, for and in considera- 
 tion of twelve hundred dollars, to us in hand paid by Henry 
 Rawles, of New York city, through his agent, John S. Andrews, 
 the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, do by these pre- 
 sents grant, bargain and sell unto Malinda Noll, his mother, her 
 executors, administrators and assigns, a negro man, slave for 
 life, named Miller Noll, now of the age of about twenty-two 
 years, together with all our right, title and interest in and to 
 said slave. To liave and to hold said negro slave, above bar- 
 gained and sold, to the said Malinda Noll, her executors, ad- 
 ministrators and assigns forever. 
 
 In testimony whereof we have hereunto set our hands and 
 seals, this eleventh day of November, 1858. 
 
 John IT. Nask, | seat. | 
 
 Wm. NaSIT. g SEAL g 
 
324 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 Platte Cottntt, 
 
 State of Missouri. 
 
 33^ it Bcmtmibtrfir, That on this eleventh day of ISTovember, 
 1858, before me, William McXeill Clough, a Notary Public, 
 within and for the County of Platte, and State of Missouri, per- 
 sonally appeared the above-written John H. Nash and William 
 Nash, who are personally known to me to be the same persons 
 whose names are subscribed to the above instrument of writing, 
 as their voluntary act and deed for the nses and purposes therein 
 contained. 
 
 In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and affixed 
 my official seal, at office in Parkville, this 11th day of Novem- 
 ber, 1858. 
 
 I^^^^l William McNeill Clough, 
 
 Notary Public. 
 
 "All men," says a great American State paper, 
 " are endowed by their Creator with certain inalien- 
 able rights, and among these are life, liberty and the 
 pursuit of happiness." 
 
 "What a comment on this specious declaration is 
 this American bill of sale of a son to his own mother ! 
 
11. 
 
 FELONS IN FODDEE. 
 
 Kansas, for four years past, lias held up the mirror 
 to modern Democracy ; and in its history the true 
 character of this subtile and stupendous despotism — 
 every hidden and hideous feature of it — is faithfully 
 and unerringly delineated. Whatever, elsewhere, its 
 partisans and supporters may pretend or say, there, 
 by the pressing exigencies of the pro-slavery cause, 
 and the frequent necessity for prompt, decisive and 
 energetic action, Democracy — as represented by its 
 chosen and honored Federal Executives — has stood 
 forth undisguisedly and boldly as the special and 
 zealous champion of the Southern Aristocracy. 
 
 Let us briefly review the history of its most promi- 
 nent officials in Kansas — the unerring mirror of its 
 secret aims and hidden aspirations. 
 
 Mr. Eeeder, the first governor, a conservative 
 among conservatives — a Democrat to whom the Fu- 
 gitive Slave Law, even, was neither repulsive in cha- 
 racter nor in any feature unconstitutional — a devout 
 worshipper at the shrine of Squatter Sovereignty and 
 of its high priests Messrs. Pierce and Douglas — was 
 promptly disgraced and dismissed from office, as soon 
 as it was found that he would not become a servile 
 and passive instrument of iniquity in the blood- 
 
326 THE KOV^ING EDITOE. 
 
 stained liancls of Atcliison and liis Missouri co- 
 horts."^ 
 
 Mr. Shannon, liis successor, who signalized his dis- 
 embarkment by proclaiming, from the door of a com- 
 mon tavern in Westport, that he was in favor of sla- 
 very and " the laws " of the Missourians, as repre- 
 sented by the Shawnee Territorial legislature, was 
 retained in office and sustained by the party, although 
 notoriously incapable and a sot, until the record of 
 his innumerable misdemeanors and follies, official 
 and personal, endangered the success of the Demo- 
 cracy in pending State elections ; or, rather, until he 
 resolutely and publicly declared at Lecompton that 
 he would not any longer be deceived and used by the 
 ruffians. 
 
 Mr. "Woodson, the Secretary of State, thrice the 
 Acting Governor of Kansas — a man who never fal- 
 tered in sustaining the Missouri mobs — who hounded 
 on the Carolina and Alabama robbers to the sack of 
 Lawrence and the desolation of the Free State settle- 
 ments — was retained in office, and with honor, until, 
 on the acceptance of Geary, it was necessary to re- 
 place him by Dr. Gihon, whose appointment that 
 gentleman insisted on as an indispensable " condition 
 precedent " to it. Was Woodson dismissed ? "No ! 
 the faithful — the unfalteringly faithful — are never so 
 disgraced ; except, indeed, at rare intervals and for a 
 brief period only. He is now one of the chiefs of 
 
 * I may mention liere that after Rccder was dismissed, Kansas, un- 
 til recently — as long as the pro-slavery party had the remotest hopes 
 of success — was permitted to have only two even nominally Free 
 State officers ; one of whom (Day) was murdwed and a ruffian ap- 
 pointed in his place, and the other (Shoemaker) was first supplanted 
 by a ruffian and then murdered. 
 
 I 
 
6LAVEEY IN KANSAS. 327 
 
 the land office at Kickapoo — a faithful town and a 
 well-rewarded one ! 
 
 To Geary's administration, the Democracy, some- 
 times, in free-soil districts — never in their Southern 
 strongholds ! — attribute the freedom of Kansas, and 
 the election of Buchanan ! His fate is familiar to 
 every one. The moment that he dared to resist the 
 secret will of the Slave Power, as uttered by its 
 faithful instrument Lecompte ; when he said that a 
 Missourian should not be bailed for murdering a poor 
 Yankee cripple, the signal was given from the win- 
 dow's of the White House, and the remorseless axe 
 fell ! Such heterodoxy was not to be tolerated. " By 
 God !" said Mr. Kelley, a Kansas postmaster, once, 
 " when it comes that a man can be hanged for only 
 
 killing a d d Yankee abolitionist, I'll leave the 
 
 country."^^ This sentiment seems to have received 
 •high official indorsement; for Lecompte was sus- 
 tained, and Geary — icas fermitted to retire. 
 
 After Geary came Walker: and wdien his eyes 
 were opened and his tongue spake against the too 
 transparent frauds of the party in power, his name at 
 once became the prophet of his fate : and his name 
 was Walker ! 
 
 Stanton entered Lawrence with threats on his 
 tongue and the spirit of slavery — the desire of domi- 
 nation — in his heart ; but wdien he mingled wdth the 
 people, heard the story of their wa^ongs, saw tlie 
 efforts, unjust and violent, of his party to continue 
 their oppression, the scales fell from his eyes also, 
 and he ceased to kick against the pricks. What 
 then ? " Off with his head," said the South. " Let 
 
 * Ue (lid leave— in a hurry, too. 
 
32S THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 Alabama howl," said Buchanan. " Off with his 
 head " — again did the South repeat the order, but 
 this time in a sterner tone. Buchanan did not dare 
 to disobey — " he w^inced beneath the Southern thun- 
 der," as Mr. Bigler phrased it — and Mr. Stanton was 
 dismissed. 
 
 The next governor was Denver, a Platte County 
 man, recently from California, a noted duellist there, 
 whose character and conduct in that country secured 
 for him the terrible title of the Butcher. The 
 Butcher, however, came too late, and had sense 
 enough to see it. There was an odor of fight around the 
 country, too, that somewhat alarmed him ; visions of 
 duels haunted his uneasy slumbers; he thought, upon 
 the whole, that to attempt to enslave such a people 
 might be, and probably would be, an unhealthy 
 operation. So, wx find, that he confined his exer- 
 tions to the pocketing of important bills, charters, 
 and resolutions. A sort of mincemeat butcher, 
 this ; afraid of the ox's horns, indeed, but willing 
 enough, if need be, to stand behind a fence and goad 
 it gently. 
 
 His successor is Mr. Sam. Medary, a Democratic 
 midwife of territorial governments, who w^as thus 
 rewarded for his attempt, in Minnesota, to swamp 
 the ballots of American citizens by the fraudulent 
 and literally " naked votes " of semi-civilized and 
 unnaturalized Indians. 
 
 K the history of their executive ofiicers demonstrates 
 that the Democracy are the special champions of 
 slavery, no less clearly is the fact a2:>parent and trans- 
 parent in their judicial appointments for Kansas. 
 
 Lecompte, Elmore, and Johnson were tlie first 
 supreme judges. Judges Elmore and Johnson were 
 
 I 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS- 329 
 
 discharged, with Governor Reader, nominally for 
 land speculations ; but Elmore, really, as he himself 
 declared in his letter to Mr. Gushing, in order that 
 the dismission of two acknowledged Free State 
 officials might not give it the appearance of pro- 
 slavery championship. Tliis occurred in the earlier 
 history of the Territory, before the Democracy had 
 entirely thrown oif their disguises. 
 
 Lecompte holds office still. JSTo man doubts his 
 professional incapacity for the high position of Chief 
 Justice, but no one can ever doubt his eminent 
 ability to advance the iniquitous designs of the Slave 
 Power. Gi all Judges, since Jeffrey disgraced the 
 bench, he has probably been the most subservient to 
 the will of tyranny. He neither falters nor revolts 
 at its utmost demands. Gne specimen of his legal 
 erudition will suffice. Judge Wakefield was arrested 
 by Titus and his men and brought before Lecompte. 
 He demanded that the writ of arrest should be read 
 to him. Lecompte examined the books, and inquired 
 of his clerk, but could find neither record of com- 
 plaint nor note of the issue of any w^it. He informed 
 Mr. Wakefield of this fact, and then advised him to 
 take out a writ of haheas corpus ! 
 
 A brief examination of Judge Lecompte's record 
 in Kansas will explain w^hy he has retained his place 
 of honor so long and undisturbed, notwithstanding 
 the incessant and angry remonstrances of the people 
 of the Territory. 
 
 Here is a brief and incomplete chronological note 
 of it: 
 
 Judge Lecompte, Ghief-Justice, April 30, 1855, 
 addresses and takes prominent part in a border ruf- 
 fian meeting at Leavenworth, by which a Vigilance 
 
330 THE EOVIXG EDITOR. 
 
 Committee is appointed, wlio notify all " Abolition- 
 ists " to leave Kansas, and drive several of the Free 
 State men ont of the city. He subsequently ap- 
 pointed Lyle, one of these ruffians (who participat- 
 ed in the tar and feathering of Phillips), clerk of 
 his court, and refused to strike his name from the 
 roll of attorneys, when a motion to that effect was 
 made by Judge Shankland. He appointed Scott 
 Boyle and Hughes, two brutal ruffians engaged in 
 the transaction, to other minor offices in his court. 
 
 July, 1855. Published a letter to the Legislature, 
 indorsing their action, and declaring (before any case 
 was before him, and, therefore, extra-judicially), that 
 their conduct and enactments were legal in every 
 respect — thus, without precedent, prejudging a point 
 of law which might subsequently have involved, as 
 it did involve, the legal rights and titles of thousands 
 of citizens. 
 
 Aug. 30. Invited the Legislature, by special letter 
 read in the House, to a grand collation, or, rather, 
 what the Indians style " a big drunk," and then 
 addressed the inebriated assembly, eulogizing them 
 for their patriotism and wisdom, and indorsing their 
 infamous code of laws. 
 
 I^ov. 14. Attended a " law and order meeting " of 
 ruffians, held at Leavenworth, and declared his deter- 
 mination to enforce the laws at all hazards : and this 
 after the delivery of the most sanguinary speeches 
 by Calhoun and other office-holders, in the course of 
 w^hich Judge Perkins (one of the most conservative 
 of them all — siibseqiienthj a District Jud(je\ told 
 them to "Trust to their rifles, and to enforce the 
 laws, if abolition blood flowed as free as the turbid 
 waters of the Missouri." 
 
SLA.VERY IN KANSAS. 331 
 
 May 15. Lecompto made a violent partisan speech 
 to the Grand Jury (reported by Mr. Leggett, who 
 was one of them), in which he earnestly nrged the 
 conviction of the Topeka Free-State officers for high 
 treason, but uttered not a syllable about the murderers 
 of Barber and other JSTorthern martyrs. This jury 
 was packed by Sheriff Jones — thirteen pro-slavery 
 to three Free-State men. The jury became a caucus, 
 the pro-slavery members making abusive speeches 
 against all the Free-State leaders as Massachusetts 
 paupers ; and then found indictments against several 
 prominent citizens for the crime of high-treason and 
 usurpation of office. 
 
 Lecompte (at the same time) issued writs for the 
 destruction of the Free-State Hotel as a nuisance. 
 The only evidence brought against it, according to 
 Mr. Leggett, w^as the fact that it was the property of 
 the Emigrant Aid Co., and had been the head-quar- 
 ters of the people who assembled at Lawrence, when 
 it was threatened (in December) by a Missouri mob. 
 
 Issues writs, also, for the destruction of the Herald 
 of Freedom^ and Free-State newspapers, and against 
 a bridge over the Wakarusa River, built by a Free 
 State man named Blanden, because he refused to 
 take out a charter for it, and thereby acknowledge 
 the validity of the Territorial laws. 
 
 ]^ov. 8th. Releases the murderer of Buffum on 
 straw l)ail. Geary has him re-arrested. Lecompte 
 again liberates him. He is sustained by Buchanan. 
 
 Liberates, also, on straw bail (both bondsmen, 
 Federal office-liolders in these cases), the scalper of 
 Mr. Hops, tlie notorious Fuggitt^ who bet and won 
 a pair of boots on the wager that he would have an 
 abolition scalp in six hours. 
 
332 THE EOVING EDITOE. 
 
 Last summer, lie liberated Jack Henderson wlien 
 arrested under the Territorial laws, for stuffing 
 ballot-boxes at tlie Delaware Crossing. 
 
 To fancy tliat such a man, so faithful and so 
 jDrompt, could ever be disgraced by the Democracy, 
 was an indication, on the part of the people of 
 Kansas, of the existence of extraordinary powers of 
 imagination. 
 
 Elmore w^as dismissed by Pierce, it is true, but has 
 been reinstated by Buchanan. He has been, and 
 still is, I believe, the largest slaveholder in the ter- 
 ritory. Although conservative both by nature and 
 education, he was the captain of a company of 
 ruffians during the civil wars. At Tecumseh, during 
 Geary's administration, he perpetrated a most cow- 
 ardly outrage on the person of Mr. Kagi, the corre- 
 spondent of the National Era. The store of a Free- 
 State man had been robbed at Tecumseh. Law there 
 was none. The boys of Topeka threatened venge- 
 ance unless the case was examined. A committee 
 was appointed by j:he ruffians at Tecumseh. It con- 
 sisted of the person suspected of the robbery! pro- 
 slavery; Judge Elmore, pro-slavery, and a Free- 
 State man. The evidence, full and positive, was 
 given in. The robber, of course, objected to restitu- 
 tion, and the Free-State man was in favor of justice ! 
 the decision, therefore, devolved on Judge Elmore. 
 He said he could not make up his mind about it. 
 Mr. Kagi remarked, after recording . the decision in 
 the Topeka Tribune^ that, although Pierce had dis- 
 missed Mr. Elmore for land speculations, he evi- 
 dently might have assumed the stronger ground of 
 incompetency; for surely a man who could not de- 
 cide, after explicit testimony and on mature reflec" 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. Ou3 
 
 tion, wlietlier a convicted robber should be pimislied 
 or make restitution, was hardly qualified for a seat 
 on the Supreme Bench of any Territory ! A few 
 days after the publication of the paper, Mr. Kagi 
 again visited Tecumseh, for the purpose of reporting 
 the proceedings of the court, then in session there. 
 Judge Elmore advanced towards him, and asked — 
 just as the assassin Brooks asked Massachusetts' 
 great senator on a memorable occasion, when pre- 
 pared to perpetrate a similar outrage — " Is your 
 nameKagi?" Hardly had the word "Yes," been 
 uttered, before Kagi was rendered nearly insensible, 
 stunned and blinded by a savage blow on the head 
 from a bludgeon in the hands of Elmore. From an 
 instinct familiar to Kansas men — hardly knowing 
 what he did — he groped for his pistol. Before he 
 could draw it, several shots were fired at him by 
 Ehnore, and one shot by the United States Prosecut- 
 ing Attorney, who was perched at a window over- 
 head. Kagi rewarded the cowardly assassin by one 
 shot — ^fired at random — which rendered him, it is 
 said, a eunuch for life ! 
 
 Elmore was a member of the Lecompton Constitu- 
 tional Convention. At first, he opposed the more 
 radical pro-slavery features of the constitution and in- 
 sisted on its submission to the people. But he sud- 
 denly faltered, and made a speech in favor of the 
 Calhoun dodge. It was understood — openly said at 
 the time — that for this service he would be rewarded 
 and deserved to be rewarded by a seat on the Bench ; 
 for, if he had adhered to his original plan, the dodge 
 would undoubtedly have been defeated, and the con- 
 stitution buried beneath an Alps-on-Apeninncs of 
 freemen's votes. The prediction is fulfilled. Elmore 
 
3^14 THE KOYING EDITOR. 
 
 is again a judge of tlie Supreme Court of Kansas. 
 He lias received the reward of consenting to endea- 
 vor to imj^ose a fraudulent constitution on an unwil- 
 ling people. 
 
 Johnson has not been reinstated. He opposed Le- 
 comjyton. 
 
 When Lawrence was surrounded by a Missouri 
 mob, in December, 1856, a j^eaceful and good man 
 was going homeward with his brother and two neigh- 
 bors. He was pursued, shot at, and fell from his horse 
 a pale, bleeding corpse. " I hit him ; you ought to 
 have seen the dust fly," said an ofiice-holder, speaking 
 of the murder. The murdered man was Barber ; the 
 office-holder Clark. For so meritorious a servant of 
 the Slave Powder one lucrative office did not suffice. 
 His brother-in-law (a person wdio can neither read nor 
 write) was a23j)ointed to a high position in the Land 
 Office at Fort Scott — the murderer drawing the 
 salary of it. When he became obnoxious to the 
 people there, by his frequent marauding excursions 
 and persecutions of the Free-State men, and was 
 obliged to flee for his life, Buchanan opened his arms 
 to receive him, and gave him the fat berth of a pur- 
 ser in the navy — a life-long office." 
 
 Jones — faithful sherifl* — whose recent presence, 
 wdien the war raged, was indicated by sacked vil- 
 lages or desolated farms, has been recently rewarded 
 still further for his services in Kansas by the Marshal- 
 ship of Arrizonia Territory. 
 
 Clarkson, notorious as a bully and ballot-box stuf- 
 
 * Since the above was in type, Clark has been found dead on the 
 prairie! He met his fate in returning to Lecompton to close up hia 
 business there. 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 335 
 
 fer, long held the office of Postmaster of the city of 
 Leavenworth. 
 
 Col. Boone, of "Westport, who made himself con- 
 spicuous, in 1856, in raising ruffian recruits in Mis- 
 souri, for the purpose of invading Kansas, was Post- 
 master of that place until he retired from business. 
 
 He was succeeded by II. Clay Pate, the correspon- 
 dent of the Missouri liejnoblican, a man publicly ac- 
 cused by his own towns-people of robbing the mail, 
 who is known to have sacked a Free-State store at 
 Palmyra, and to have committed numerous other high- 
 way robberies. But, although these facts were noto- 
 rious, he obtained and still holds the appointment of 
 Postmaster {at appoint convenient for the surveillance 
 of the interior of the Kansas mails), in order to com- 
 pensate him for his disgraceful and overwhelming 
 defeat by old John Brown at Black Jack. 
 
 Mr, Stringfellow, the most ultra advocate of pro- 
 slavery propagandism in the West, at the instance of 
 the friends of the Administration, was elected to the 
 Speakership of the House of Pepresentatives ; and 
 the Rev. Tom Johnson, of the Shawnee Mission, who 
 enjoys the unenviable notoriety of having first intro- 
 duced negro slavery into Kansas proper — long before 
 the Territory was opened — was elected by the same 
 influence President of the Council. It is said that 
 his sons are provided for, also. 
 
 Mr. Barbee, an ignorant and debauched drunkard — 
 a man hardly ever seen sober — having been effectual- 
 ly used as a tool in a military capacity, was appointed 
 U. S. District Attorney, a position he retained till 
 the day of his dcatli. One instance of his aptitude 
 for such a post may be recorded as a specimen of De- 
 mocratic appointments to legal positions in Kansas. 
 
336 THE ROVING EDITOR. 
 
 At Tecumseli, one day, after vainly endeavoring, in 
 thick, guttural accents, to open a case, lie exclaimed 
 — ' ' Move-'j ourn — j)lease — move" — 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Judge Cato, "I adjourn the 
 case, as you Avill notice that the (Tnited States is 
 drunk." 
 
 Cato himself, when in power, frequently left the 
 bench for the purpose of " taking a smile," as west- 
 ern people j)hrase the practice of imbibing watered 
 strychnine at the bar of a low grocery ; and more 
 than once the Counsellors, Sheriff and Jury, weary 
 of waiting for his Honor's return, left the Court for 
 the j)urpose of rejoining him, and indulging in his 
 habits also. 
 
 The mention of bar-rooms naturally reminds us of 
 another celebrated Kansas official, whose name, quite 
 recently, was in all men's mouths. I refer to Mr. 
 John Calhoun. He has been a faithful servant ot 
 both Administrations. As early as N^ovember, 1856, 
 he distinguished himself, at the Law and Order 
 Convention at Leavenworth, as an ultra and blood- 
 thirsty member of the pro-slavery party. On that 
 occasion he hastened to inform the people that — 
 
 " I," — this Prince of political forgers — " I could 
 not trust an abolitionist or a free-soiler out of sight." 
 
 Tliat— " They "—the Free-State men—" would 
 kneel to the devil and call him God, if he would 
 only help them to steal a nigger." 
 
 And again that — " I " — this veracious chief of the 
 tribe of Candlebox — " I would not believe one of 
 them under oath more than the vilest wretch that 
 licks the slime from the meanest penitentiary." 
 
 He " declared himself ready," too, to " enforce 
 the laws" — the enactments of the Missouri mob — 
 
SLAVEliY IX KANSAS. 337 
 
 and " to spill liis life's blood if necessary to do 
 it." 
 
 Unluckilj lie did not deem it necessary to slied liis 
 blood — as tlie future historian and j^i'obably Cal- 
 houn's own posterity will record with regret. With 
 Falstaff's valor and FalstafF's prudence, he kept him- 
 self distant from the battle-field — reserving his 
 strength and ability for another day. His services 
 to slavery, in the Lecompton Constitutional Conven- 
 tion, are known to every one. By adroit manage- 
 ment, and the skillful use of Federal money, he pro- 
 cured the passage of the fraudulent constitution, 
 without a " submission clause," and so arranged the 
 subsequent proceedings to be had under the instru- 
 ment, that, had it passed through Congress " naked,'' 
 the Legislature might have met at Fort Leavenworth 
 and elected two pro-slavery United States senators. 
 The political complexion of that assembly was in his 
 own hands. The defeat of the conspiracy in Con- 
 gress prevented the completion of the plot. 
 
 Jack Henderson, his creature — he Avhose action in 
 the matter of the Delaware crossing put everything 
 in Calhoun's power — United States Senators, State 
 Government and Legislature— ^the continuance or 
 the abolishment of slavery in Kansas — as far, at 
 least, as political power, under the peculiar circum- 
 stances, could have affected slavery, was received at 
 the White House with honor, closeted with Buchanan, 
 and appointed a Secret Territorial Mail Agent. 
 
 Buford's marauders were presented with arms, and 
 paid by the day for sacking Lawrence and desolating 
 the surrounding region ; and one of their number, a 
 Mr. Fane, was appointed by the President United 
 States Marshal. 
 
 15 
 
338 THE EOVING EDITOR. 
 
 Titus was made a Colonel of Militia, and he and 
 his men were promptly paid ; while Captain Walker 
 and his Free-State company, organized at the Fame 
 time and in the same manner, under the same ar- 
 rangement, have never been remunerated for their 
 services to this day. 
 
 General Whitfield, bogus delegate, the leader of 
 several gangs of the invaders of Kansas — on whose 
 hands rests the blood of many martyrs, slain by his 
 rufiians — after failing to be returned to Congress, 
 was made a chief in the Land Ofiice at Kickapoo, 
 where he now resides. 
 
 Mr. Preston, a Virginian, for overhauling a peace- 
 ful emigrant train, abusing the ^Northern people who 
 composed it, and throwing their bedding and cloth- 
 ing on the miry soil, to be trodden on by the 
 cavalry, has also been rewarded with a lucrative po- 
 sition in the same establishment. 
 
 Who has not heard of Colonel Emory — a man 
 notorious — the husband of a woman who once 
 offered to a company of South Carolina ruffians, to 
 marry any one who would bring her the scalp of a 
 Yankee ! Rich as she was, and poor and ruffianly as 
 they were, not one of them accepted the offer. 
 Emory was Secretary of State in General Walker's 
 ragamuffin " State " of Southern California. In 
 Kansas, after his appointment as mail contractor, he 
 signalized his devotion to Democracy by ordering a 
 quiet Free-State German to be shot down, like a dog, 
 in the streets, for expressing his disapprobation of the 
 murder of Phillips, that noble and heroic martyr 
 whom, also, he had so brutally massacred. For these 
 services, and for loaning his horses — for he kept a 
 livery stable — to the South Carolina ruffians, he was 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 339 
 
 appointed the comptroller of the Land Office at 
 Ogden. Thus : the murderer of Phillips, as well as 
 every man who had outraged his person a year be- 
 fore, has been rewarded with government offices. 
 
 The press has not been forgotten. Three Free- 
 State offices in Kansas have been destroyed l)y vio- 
 lence — two by order of Judge Lecompte and the 
 o^cialposse of the United States Marshal ; one (the 
 Leavenworth Temtovial Register^ a Douglas Demo- 
 cratic paper), b}^ a legally organized Territorial mi- 
 litia company — the same men who so savagely 
 butchered R. P. Brown — the infamous Kickapoo 
 Rangers. 
 
 The pro-slavery press, on the other hand, has also 
 been rewarded for its success. The Squatter Sove- 
 reign^ once published in the town of Atchison, was 
 edited by Mr. Speaker Stringfellow, already men- 
 tioned, and Mr. Robert S. Kelley. This Kelley has 
 always advocated the most blood-thirsty measures 
 against the Free-State men — urging their expulsion 
 always, and often their extermination. He advocated, 
 also, a dissolution of the Union, and the formation of 
 a Southern Confederacy. In the pro-slavery camp 
 once, he entered the tent where a young Free-State 
 man, a prisoner, lay dangerously ill, and savagely 
 yelled, " I thirst for blood," an expression which, in 
 the debilitated condition of the invalid's health, 
 superinduced a brain fever, from which he did not 
 recover for many months. This man, also, was the 
 leader of the mob which tarred and feathered tlie 
 Rev. Pardee Butler, and then put him on a raft on 
 the Missouri River — for presuming, in a private con- 
 versation, to deprecate the lynching of a man who 
 had suffered tlicrc a few days before for his ])olitical 
 
THE KOVINO EDITOR. 
 
 belief, and also for saving that lie himself was in 
 favor of making Kansas a Free State. This man was 
 appointed postmaster at Atchison ; his brother-in- 
 law is postmaster still at Doniphan ; his paper re- 
 ceived the government patronage, and printed the 
 United States laws. 
 
 The Herald^ published at Leavenworth, although 
 neither so honest in expression, nor violent in policy, 
 was equally Satanic in its conduct. It slandered the 
 murdered Free-State martyrs and the Free-State 
 cause ; and by its insidious misrepresentations and 
 appeals did more than any other journal to prolong 
 the troubles in Kansas. Its editor-in-chief was ap- 
 pointed Brigadier-General of the militia ; its associ- 
 ate editor and Washington correspondent was re- 
 Avarded with a consulship ; and the paper has been 
 the official organ of the administration in Kansas, the 
 publisher of its laws and its bribery advertisements, 
 from its establishment till noAV. 
 
 Its present associate in these advantages is tlie 
 Herald of Freedom^ which has been rewarded with 
 the government patronage ever since its attacks on 
 the liepublican party. 
 
 It is to the credit of the Free-State men that since 
 they obtained the power, both political and of the 
 mob, no paper has been disturbed, nor the freedom 
 of speech assailed, although the pro-slavery press and 
 pro-slavery stump still echoes the foulest slanders on 
 their creed, their leaders, and their party. 
 
 I might prolong to an unendurable extent this list, 
 black — and still blackening as it lengthens — of the 
 ruffianly recipients of official rewards for vile deeds 
 done in the unhappy territory, which has so long 
 been the victim of the Slave Power's lust; but which, 
 
SLAYEKY IN KANSAS. 341 
 
 recently — tliank God — proved itself not unworthy of 
 its illustrious and free Puritan descent, by spurning so 
 unceremoniously and so firmly tlie bribe that was 
 held up beneath a threat to reduce it! But with 
 another instance 1 will close it, referring those of you 
 who would learn the entire length, and the deptli, 
 and the breadth of it, to consult the ensanguined 
 chronicles of Kansas, which are strewed with similar 
 and even more deplorable outrages. 
 
 There was, and yet is, a wealthy firm in Leaven- 
 worth, who have thousands of men in their employ. 
 They established a branch of their business in the 
 city when it was still a straggling village, and wealth 
 thus contributed greatly to its rapid increase in popu- 
 lation. Lawrence was surrounded with ruflians. It 
 was dangerous at Leavenworth to be known as a 
 Free-State man. This in 1856. Suddenly every man 
 was asked by the chief of the firm what party he 
 belonged to. Every man who was in favor of a 
 Free State, and every man who was not emphatically 
 pro-slavery, without any regard to his merits as a 
 workman, was instantly cashiered. A handbill 
 appeared in Lexington and other Missouri towns 
 a few weeks afterwards, telling workmen that this 
 firm needed help ; but it contained this ominous, and 
 in view of the author's connection with the Govern- 
 ment, this significant postscript: "I^.B. None need 
 apply who are not sound on the Southern question." 
 
 Months elapsed and the war was resumed. The 
 territory was covered with guerillas, gangs of higli- 
 waymen, horse-thieves, and house-breakers from 
 Missouri, Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. 
 An immense posse was gathering at Lccompton to 
 sack the town of Lawrence. The firm liad about 
 
342 TIM] IIOVING EDITOE. 
 
 a liundred men at their establishinent preparing to 
 start across the prairies. They were told to go and 
 fight the Yankees, furnished with arms and powder, 
 and had the same pay that they received for their 
 services at their ordinary work. 
 
 This same firm appealed, with Atchison, to the 
 South for men and arms ; one of them acted as the 
 treasurer to the Southern contributors, and disbursed 
 the treasury of desolation and civil war as the exigen- 
 cies of their guerilla forces and armies required. 
 
 This firm has made millions by the government 
 contracts. 
 
 For a specimen of the manner in which they have 
 been rewarded, I refer you to the last report of the 
 Secretary of the Treasury, from which you will see 
 that they have been paid at the rate of $187 per 
 barrel for transporting each and every barrel of flour 
 forwarded to the army at Utah. 
 
 If, then, as Charles Sumner says, " he who is not 
 for freedom in her hour of peril, is against her," be 
 true, and be equally true of slavery, how will the 
 South and her oligarchy ever be able to defray 
 their indebtedness to the Democracy ? and how, too, 
 will New England and the North ever be able to 
 square their accounts, even when the terrible day of 
 reckoning does come ? 
 
iir 
 
 SLAVE-nUNTING IN KANSAS. 
 
 The most rouitantic passages of Kansas liistory 
 liave never yet been penned. I will relate two au- 
 thentic incidents, as specimens of these narratives 
 suppressed ; and will give them, as nearly as I remem- 
 ber, in the language of a noble friend, who related, 
 and participated in the scenes described. 
 
 I had been speaking of the first slave who escaped 
 from Missouri by the Kansas and Nebraska Under- 
 ground Railroad, and remarked that I was proud of 
 the fact that I had armed them, and otherwise assist- 
 ed them to continue their heroic and arduous journey. 
 
 "That railroad," my friend said, "does a very 
 brisk business now. I'll tell you an incident of its 
 history." 
 
 CLUBBING SLAVE-IIUNTERS. 
 
 "A slave, named , escaped from Bates 
 
 County, Missouri, and succeeded in reaching Law- 
 rence. There, he was put in the track of the Under- 
 ground Railroad, and was soon safely landed in Can- 
 ada. He wrote to our President, announcing his ar- 
 rival, and urging him to tell his wife of it and to aid 
 her to escape. 
 
 " IsText morning after the letter arrived, our mutual 
 
 848 
 
344 THIi ItOVING EDITOR. 
 
 4 
 
 friend left Lawrence for Missouri. He went to 
 
 the woman, told her of her husband's wish, and, 
 after sunset, started her for Lawrence. They reached 
 it in safety, and were beyond Topeka, when the 
 slave-hunters overtook them, overpowered them and 
 arrested the woman. She had two children with her. 
 They put them in their covered wagon, and drove 
 ra])idly towards home. They gagged her; but, in 
 
 passing 11 's house, she tore off the bandage and 
 
 shouted for help. He happened to be out of doors 
 at the time — it was night — and instantly mounted 
 his horse. He came down to Lawrence, and roused 
 us from our beds. We dressed ourselves hastily, 
 (there were three of us,) ran to the stable, and put 
 after the Missourians. We rode at full speed for 
 nearly four hours, when, shortly after midnight, in 
 turning a bend of the road in the woods, we came 
 up right suddenly on the slave-hunters. There were 
 three of them on horseback, and one driving the wa- 
 gon. They had heard us coming, and waited for our 
 approach, and fired simultaneously as soon as we saw 
 them. Crack, crack, crack, went our pistols in re- 
 turn! One fellow tumbled from his horse, which 
 ran away, dragging him along as it went. 
 
 '' ' Charge !' shouted Col. . ' Club them !' 
 
 " We were mounted on splendid large horses, 
 while the slave-hunters were on shabby little Lidian 
 ponies. This gave us a great advantage over them 
 in charging. I seized my navy pistol by the barrel ; 
 rode straight upon one fellow ; and, raising the wea- 
 l)on, brought it down with all my strength on liis 
 head. The colonel did the same with the other 
 man. I supposed tliat we killed them, for they fell 
 and never moved a^jain. The first man who had 
 
SLAVERY IN KANSAS. 345 
 
 been shot, was badly wounded ; but, I supposed at 
 the time, not fatally. Yet, I do n't Icnoio it ; for we 
 did n't wait to see ! 
 
 "When the fellow who was driving the wagon 
 saw the first man tumble, he lashed his horses and 
 tried to keep them at a gallop. But the negro wo- 
 man sprang up, caught hold of him by the neck, and 
 
 tried to pull him over into the wagon. rode 
 
 after the fugitives, overtook them, cocked his revol- 
 ver, and put it close to the slave-hunter's head. lie 
 shouted savao-elv : 
 
 " ' Surrender ! d — you, or here goes !' 
 
 " lie did n't need to repeat the order. The fellow 
 cried for mercy, jumped out of the wagon, and ran 
 off as fast as his legs could cany him. 
 
 " ' I'm cursed sorry lie surrendered !' said , 
 
 ' my mouth was watering for a shot at him !' 
 
 "We turned round the wagon, let the horses of 
 the slave-hunters go, left the bodies of the Missou- 
 rians lying on the prairie, and drove back as rapidly 
 
 as we came from Lawrence. drove the wagon 
 
 a couple of hundred miles. It is now regularly em- 
 ployed in the service of the U. G. R. H. 
 
 " The fire of the Missourians injured a hat, and a 
 cravat ; a ball went through them ; but tluit was all 
 the damage done." 
 
 "All?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, that 's all." 
 
 " But, the Missourians V 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; we heard that they were found on tlie 
 prairie, dead j but, then, the woman and her two 
 children, once mere property, are now human beings, 
 and cdive. I guess they will answer instead of the 
 Missourians, when the m-eat roll of liumanitv is called ! 
 
 15* 
 
346 THE EOVIIsG EDITOIi. 
 
 "Ko one but we three (with II and the 
 
 -svoman), ever heard of this affair. We reached 
 Lawrence before sunrise, put our horses up, slipped 
 quietly to our rooms in the hotel, and no one sup- 
 posed we had been out of bed." 
 
 FATE OF THE GUAliDS. 
 
 ''But that scene was nothing when compared with 
 the charge on the Guards. Oh, God !" 
 
 Mj friend shuddered violently. 
 
 Ev^erjbody who is familiar with the history of 
 
 ■Kansas has heard of the Guards. They w^ere 
 
 a gang of Missouri highwaymen and horse-thieves, 
 
 who organized under the lead of , the 
 
 Kansas correspondent of a leading pro-slavery paper, 
 whea the Territorial troubles first broke out in the 
 spring of 1855. 
 
 After sacking a little Free-State town on the Santa 
 Fe road, and committing other f»etty robberies and 
 misdemeanors, they were attacked, in the summer of 
 ^66, by a celebrated Free-State captain, and defeated 
 by a force of less than one-half their numerical 
 strength. They were kej)t as prisoners until released 
 
 by the troops. Capt. , satisfied with his laurels, 
 
 then retired from the tented field. But the company 
 continued to exist and still lived by robbery. Shortly 
 after the Xenophon of the Kansas prairies left them, 
 they elected, as their captain, a ruffian of most infa- 
 mous character and brutal nature. He presently 
 was known to have committed outrages on the per- 
 sons of three Free-State mothers. 
 
 I will now report the narrative of my friend : 
 
SLAVERY IN KANHA?. 347 
 
 " Capt. and the boys, wlicn they were con- 
 vinced of the crimes these marauders had committed, 
 resolved to follow them and fight them until the very 
 last man was either banished or exterminated. We 
 heard one night that they were encamped in a ravine 
 
 near . We cleaned our guns, filled our cartridge 
 
 boxes with ammunition, and left our quarters with as 
 stern a pur]30se as ever animated men since hostilities 
 were known. 
 
 "It was about midnight when we began our march. 
 A cold, misty, disagreeable night. We marched in 
 silence until we came w^ithin a mile of the ravine. 
 Then the captain ordered us to halt. There were 
 thirty men of us. He divided us into two companies 
 or platoons in order to get the highwaymen between 
 a cross fire. We could see their camp lights twinkling 
 in the distance. We then made an extended detour 
 and slowly approached the ravine. 'Not a w^ord was 
 spoken. Every man stepped slowly and cautiously 
 and held in his breath as we drew near to the camp 
 of the enemy. We knelt down until we heard a 
 crackling noise among the brush on the opposite side, 
 w^hich announced the j)resence and approach of our 
 other platoon. 
 
 " The Guards heard it also, and sprang to 
 
 their feet. They numbered twenty-two men. 
 
 "Our captain, then, in a deep, resounding voice, 
 gave the order : 
 
 " ' Attention / Company !' 
 
 " The Guards, hitherto huddled together 
 
 around the fires, tried to form in line and seize their 
 arms. 
 
 "But it was too late. 
 
 " ' Take aim P 
 
S4S THE KOVIXG EDITOK. 
 
 "Eveiy man of us took a steady aim at the marau- 
 ders, whose bodies the cam^:) fires fatally exposed. 
 
 " ' FlKE !' 
 
 "Hardly had the terrible v/ord been uttered ere the 
 roar of thirty rifles, simultaneously discharged, was 
 succeeded by the wildest, most unearthly shriek that 
 ever rose from mortals since the earth was peopled. 
 
 " I saw two of them leap fearfully into the air. I 
 saw no more. I heard no more. That shriek un- 
 manned me. I reeled backward until I found a tree 
 to lean against. The boys told me afterwards that I 
 had fainted. I was not ashamed of it. 
 
 " ' March !' 
 
 "I obeyed the command mechanically. We 
 marched back in truly solenm silence. I had walked 
 a mile or two before I noticed that the other pla- 
 toon was not with us. 
 
 " I asked where it was. 
 
 '^'Burying tliem.^ was the brief and significant 
 response. 
 
 " ' Were they all killed, then?' 
 
 " ' Every one of them.' 
 
 "1 shuddered then : I can 't think of it yet without 
 shuddering." 
 
 My friend did not speak figuratively when he said 
 so ; for he shuddered in earnest — in evident pain — 
 as he related these facts. But it w\as not an unmanly 
 weakness that caused it, for he instantly added : 
 
 " That scene haunts me. It was a terrible thing 
 to do. But it was right — a grand act of retributive 
 justice — and I thank God, now, that I Avas ' in at the 
 death' of those marauders. Ko one ever missed 
 them ; they were friendless vagrants. God help them ! 
 I hope the stern lesson taught them humanity ! 
 
 I 
 
Slavery in kansas. 349 
 
 "What do you think of it? Don't you think it 
 was right ?" 
 
 " It was the grandest American act since Bunker 
 Hill," I said. 
 
 THE END. 
 
11 J& 32 
 
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