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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
BRIGHT SKIES AND DARK SHADOWS. 
 
DR. HENRY M. FIELD'S WORKS. 
 
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Slrulhtrsi Cu.. Eugr'v 
 
BRIGHT SKIES AXD DARK SHADOWS 
 
 
 By henry M. field D.D. 
 
 Sl^ttf) iQaps 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCEIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1890 
 
COFTEIGHT, 1890, BY 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
WHOSE INVITATION, COMING AT A MOMKNT OF ILLNESS, 
 
 TOOK ME AWAY TO A PARADISE OF KEST, 
 
 AND GAVE ME STRENGTH TO BEGIN THIS BOOK, 
 
 I NOW EETUKN IT COMPLETE 
 
 IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS GREAT KINDNESS, 
 
 AND IN TOKEN OF A FRIENDSHIP 
 
 THAT IS VERY DEAR TO ME. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Migration to the South at the approach of Winter, has 
 become almost as regular as the migration of birds. A 
 journey that is so familiar needs little in the way of de- 
 scription ; and if I linger here and there, or turn to some 
 out-of-the-way place like Jupiter Inlet, it is not to magnify 
 slight accessories, but to prepare a larger canvas for a 
 principal figure, as these troj)ical surroundings furnish a 
 background, the more effective by contrast, for the dark 
 subject of my story. It is under these " bright skies " that 
 the " shadows " creep on the scene. Out of the palms and 
 the orange groves starts up a spectre, the ghost of some- 
 thing gone, that, though dead and buried, sleeps in an 
 unquiet grave, and comes forth at midnight to haunt us 
 in our dreams. The Race Problem is the gravest that 
 ever touched a nation's life. The subject at once fasci- 
 nates and repels by its tremendous import, its difficulty 
 and its danger. I have been so oppressed by it that I 
 could not keep from speaking, even if it were only to 
 ask questions. That is the way to get light, by groping 
 after it. Confession of ignorance is the first step towards 
 knowledge. To one in perplexity of mind on a difficult 
 question, it is a help to talk it over in a friendly way : 
 to exchange suggestions with those who give as well as 
 receive. Ideas which were extremely vague, crystallize in 
 expression, and are useful if only to draw forth some- 
 thing better from others. With this frank statement, I 
 give my thoughts for what they are worth, but do not 
 
ii PREFACE. 
 
 assume for one moment to set myself up as an authority. 
 I boast no superior wisdom : I only claim to have a few 
 grains of common-sense, an earnest desire for the good 
 of both races, and a boundless charity. 
 
 After this grave discussion of a question that has been 
 the brooding mother of all our woes, last and greatest of 
 which was the late civil war, it is not a violent transition 
 to a stirring event in the war itself, the Battle of Franklin. 
 As I went oyer the field with those who had a part in the 
 scenes of that terrible day, I have tried to tell the story 
 in a way to be just alike to friend and foe. Then, by way 
 of contrast and relief, we turn to a quiet old mansion on 
 the banks of the Cumberland, where one of our earlier 
 heroes, Andrew Jackson, lived and died. 
 
 Beturning home across the mountains, it came in my 
 way to visit the graves of Lee and Stonewall Jackson, in 
 writing of whom I have not sought to revive recollections 
 that could stir up bitterness, but to contribute at once to 
 the truth of history and to the cause of peace. These very 
 sketches serve to show us " how near and yet how far " is 
 the great drama in which these distinguished actors bore 
 a part — so near as to be remembered vividly by the living 
 generation, and yet so far as to have removed all irrita- 
 tion, so that we can write of these recent events with the 
 calm, judicial temper of posterity. Cau we make a better 
 use of history than to learn from it this double lesson : to 
 honor all the heroic dead, and to think kindly and gener- 
 ously of the living ? 
 Makch, 1890. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. Sent Aw ax. The Consolations of Exile S 
 
 II. Over the Mountains: Asheville and Knoxvillb. 
 
 A Reminiscence of the War 16 
 
 III. From Chattanooga to Atlanta. Along the Track 
 
 OF Sherman's March 27 
 
 IV. Florida. St. Augustine and the Ponce de Leon. . . 36 
 
 V. South Florida. Where the Palms Whisper to the 
 
 Pines. Jupiter Inlet. Eobinson Crusoe Life 53 
 
 VI. New England in the South. The Old Home and 
 
 the New Home 76 
 
 VII. Northern Florida 89 
 
 VIII. "Marching through Georgia" 97 
 
 IX. The Black Belt and the Eace Problem 107 
 
 X. A New Departure. The Negro Vote 118 
 
 XL Capacity of the Negro. His Position in the North. 
 
 The Color Line in New England 131 
 
 XII. The Expatriation of a Whole Race 154 
 
 XIII. Looking Forward 165 
 
 XIV. Old Masters Caeing for their Old Slaves 179 
 
 XV. A Camp-meeting in the Woods, with a Few Words 
 
 TO MY Colored Brethren 190 
 
 XVI. A Story of the War: The Battle of Franklin 209 
 
 XVII. The Hermitage: The Home and Burial-place of 
 
 Andrew Jackson 257 
 
 XVIII. Stonewall Jackson and the Valley Campaign 273 
 
 XIX. The Last Days of General Lee 295 
 
BRIGHT SKIES AND DARK SHADOWS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SENT AWAY— THE CONSOLATIONS OF EXILE. 
 
 "Go! go! go!" said the doctor. "The sooner, the 
 better ! " This was sending me into exile at a moment's 
 notice. I did not Kke it. There is no place like home, 
 and though it may not be qmte orthodox, I have always 
 been of the opinion that the angel of the household was 
 as good as an angel with wings. But the doctor was per- 
 emptory. He did not give advice, but command, and in 
 such a case there is nothing to do but to obey. It would 
 have lightened the matter a httle if I could have had so 
 much as a pleasant day to depart ; but it was raining 
 heavily as I crossed the Hudson, and one's spirits are apt 
 to sink with the barometer. In such a mood, a ferry-boat 
 is not the place of retirement that one would choose to 
 indulge his sombre reflections ; and the station at Jersey 
 City, dark as a half-lighted tunnel, seemed almost like a 
 cavern leading to the shades below. But even in the 
 shades one may recognize some famihar faces, and as I 
 stepped into the drawing-room car, whom should I see in 
 the opposite seat but an old friend who had just been 
 elected Vice-President of the United States ! It is more 
 than thirty years since I first knew Levi P. Morton : we 
 recalled the very time and place at which our acquaint- 
 
10 RESTFUL PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 ance began. He was then living in Fourteenth street, in 
 a house twelve and a half feet wide ; but small as it was, 
 it was full of brightness, and he was then the same gentle- 
 spoken, quiet-mannered, and evcn-temj^ered man that he 
 has been ever since, with a natural courtesy that makes 
 all men his friends, and none his enemies. It is with a 
 personal gratification that I see this true American gentle- 
 man elevated to the second position in the government of 
 his countr}^, and that he has at his side one who wiU do as 
 much to grace the social life of V/ashington as any of her 
 predecessors. 
 
 Pleasant company makes time pass quickly, and it was 
 not long before the train rolled into the station at Phila- 
 delphia. The rain was still j^ouring, but there were bright 
 lights and welcoming faces, and we were soon carried off, 
 willing captives, to uaste the hospitality of the Quaker City. 
 
 When I am banished from feverish New York, I betake 
 me to restful Philadelphia, the very sight of which, with 
 its rectangular streets and slow-moving people, subdues 
 me to a feeling of quietness and peace. If I were a doc- 
 tor, and had a patient who was suffering from insomnia, I 
 would prescribe for him a change to Philadelphia. It is a 
 perfect anodyne. At once the heart beats more slowly, 
 the pulse becomes more measured and regular, and the 
 tired brain finds the welcome rest that brings life back 
 again, and the weary pilgrim starts on his journey anew, 
 with fresh courage and hope. 
 
 A Sunday in Philadelphia is next to walking the golden 
 streets. The great city rests from its six days of labor. 
 Men gather their families about them, and walk to the 
 house of God in company. Angels are abroad, and we 
 can almost hear the soft stirring of their wings. 
 
 In this city of churches I feel very much at home. If 
 one is looking about for a sight that is at once unique and 
 
A FAMOUS SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 11 
 
 inspiring, he may find it in the famous Bethany Sunday- 
 school, the largest in America, founded by Mr. John 
 Wanamaker, whose partner, Mr. Bobert C. Ogden, not to 
 be outdone in good works, has set up another, not in 
 opposition, but in imitation. Mr. Wanamaker, at the 
 head of his Bible-class, which includes many hundi'eds of 
 mature age, who are still eager in their study of the 
 Holy Book, is in his element. He loves to teach and to 
 preach the Gospel, and he does a good deal in the way of 
 practising it, too. When I saw him the next day in his 
 place of business, which is such a centre of activity as 
 would keep most men's heads in a whirl, he was as calm 
 as a Summer's morning — not troubled in mind by the 
 attacks upon him because of the pai-t he took in the late 
 election, nor carried* off his feet by any political ambition. 
 Indeed I believe he would rather be at the head of his 
 Sunday-school than in the Cabinet of President Harrison, 
 though he might be both. The fact that he has wrought 
 so faithfully in the one, certainly does not unfit him for 
 the other. I envy him, not for his wealth or worldly suc- 
 cess, nor any political distinction which he may attain, but 
 for the good that he has done among those for whom the 
 rich generally care but little ; so that at the last, when he 
 comes into the heavenly kingdom, he will not come alone, 
 but will have a great multitude of children, and of the 
 poor and the lowly, to keep him company. 
 
 But Philadelphia is setting New York an example in 
 other things than Sunday-schools, the last and greatest 
 of which is a Tabernacle for Working-men, an immense 
 structure, in which there is not only a church for religious 
 services, but reception-rooms, a hall for popular lectiires, 
 and an infii-mary for the treatment of diseases of the eye 
 and ear, the throat and lungs — a treatment which, as it 
 requires the skill of speciaHsts, is on that account so costly 
 
12 THE BEACON CHURCH, 
 
 as to be beyond the reach of working men, but which is 
 here provided without cost. This j^art of the general plan 
 has been in operation for two years, in which time, even 
 with the limited accommodation, it has furnished relief to 
 over seven thousand patients. 
 
 The planting of such a structure right against the 
 walls of the sanctuary, with doors opening from one into 
 the other, is a combination of the religious with the 
 humane, which carries out the spirit of Him who went 
 about doing good to the bodies as well as the souls of men. 
 The church itself is so arranged as to invite the working 
 classes. Instead of being patterned after the stiff and 
 stately style of architecture, in which elaborate carving and 
 florid decoration, and the general air of costHness, sei've as 
 a warning to all who may be " in vile raiment " to keep 
 away, this " Beacon Church " is constructed for a popular 
 assembly, its seats being ranged in the form of an amj^hi- 
 theatre, with great galleries into which crowds can pour, 
 and in which a working-man would not hesitate to take his 
 seat in his work-day clothes, if he had no other, with his 
 wife and children, to hear anybody who has the art of 
 speaking so as to touch his heart. And yet there is nothing 
 about it cheap and mean-looking ; on the contrary, it is 
 quite grand from its size and massiveness. In short, it is 
 a church good enough for the best, and not too good for 
 the humblest, to which therefore both extremes of society 
 may gravitate by a common impulse, so that "the rich and 
 the poor may sit together, and feel that God is the Maker 
 of them all." 
 
 But the design of course was chiefly for the working- 
 men, as is indicated by the location, in a distant part of 
 Philadelphia — perhaps four miles fi'om Chestnut street. 
 It took us nearly an hoiu" to drive there. But for all 
 that, it is not beyond the reach of a dense population, 
 
DESIGNED FOR WORKING-MEN. 13 
 
 as it is in the midst of large manvifactories, that employ 
 thousands of working-men and working-women, for whom 
 this is intended to be a rallying centre, and a fountain of 
 all good influences. 
 
 The carrying out of this grand idea is due to the 
 unwearied labors of Dr. Francis L. Eobbins, who has given 
 his whole heart to it for several years, and who must have 
 felt rewarded as he saw the great demonstration of Sunday 
 evening. The church, which will hold three thousand 
 people, was not only filled, but blockaded — floor and 
 galleries and aisles, and every passage-way to the outer 
 doors. On the platform sat ]\Ir. Morton, who is the uncle 
 of IVIrs. Bobbins, and who had come on from New York 
 especiall}' to be at this service ; and beside him, Mr. Drexel 
 and Mr. George W. Childs, Mr. Wanamaker, and others 
 who are well known as men who put their hands to every 
 good work. I have rarely looked in the face a more 
 inspiring audience, and the tone of all the speeches was 
 one of hope and congratulation. All felt that this was a 
 step in the right direction ; that it tended to solve the 
 problem of reaching the masses with the Gospel ; that it 
 bridged the chasm between the rich and the poor, bringing 
 them nearer together, and both under the influence of 
 that Religion which is the only solid foundation of social 
 harmony and national prosperity. 
 
 After the Sabbath was past, I lingered awhile in this 
 goodly city to inhale the air of a place that is always restful 
 to me. There are no ups and downs to cause unwary feet 
 to stumble : all is plain and straight before my face. The 
 city Heth four square, like the heavenly Jerusalem, and its 
 surface is plain and smooth, as all the ways of life ought 
 to be ; and the streets run at right angles, and are so 
 carefully named and numbered that " the wayfaring man 
 need not err therein." There is a quaint harmony in 
 
14 THE CITY OF PEACE. 
 
 the domestic architectiii-e, there being some hundreds of 
 thousands, more or less, of houses, all with the same brick 
 fronts, the same dooi's and Avindows, and the same white 
 doorsteps, the daily washing of which is the badge of 
 respectability, if it be not indeed " the outward and visible 
 sign of an inward and spiritual grace." It is a moral 
 lesson to watch the people in the streets, who do not rush 
 about with undue precipitation, but walk with measui'ed 
 steps, in which there is a kind of slow rhythm, that insen- 
 sibly subdues the stranger to the same dignity and repose. 
 All these things work in me a calm and equable frame 
 of mind ; and when I have been up to the Presbyterian 
 House, and talked with " all the holy brethren," and been 
 assured that every department of our ecclesiastical ma- 
 chinery is in perfect order ; and to the editorial rooms 
 of " The Presbyterian " and " The Journal," and meekly 
 inquired as to the prospects of union between the Chui-ches 
 North and South, and have them both (though their views 
 are exactly opposite) tell me confidentially that *' it is aU 
 coming out right," I am greatly reUeved in mind. Then I 
 need only to ride down town, and look into the untroubled 
 face of that model gentleman, George TV. Childs ; and to 
 sit with Mr. Drexel in- his banking house — a man who is as 
 simple as if he were not a king in the world of finance — 
 and hear him speak hopefully of the prospects of the 
 business world ; to be quite reheved of any fears for the 
 country, under whatever administration it may be. It is 
 thus that PhiladeliDhia quiets my nerves and cools my 
 blood, and leads me to think that the world is not going 
 to the bad, after all. God bless the dear old city of 
 Franklin and of WHUam Penn, whose spirit of peace and 
 of brotherhood abides upon her still — a city rich in its 
 commerce and its accumulated wealth, but richer still in 
 its noble men and women ! 
 
WASHINGTON AS A PLACE OF EXILE. 15 
 
 Washington is another city of refuge for me, when I 
 am ordered away from home in search of a milder climate. 
 There, hard by the Capitol, is a wide, roomy house, in 
 which everything is, like its possessor, large and generous, 
 with a great library, which is the very paradise of a scholar. 
 Here the sunshine pours in all day long, and the weary 
 pilgrim can enjoy the " sunshine cure," for there is sun- 
 shine without and within. The master of this hospitable 
 mansion, when in college, bore the proud title of Magnus 
 Ager, to distinguish him from a smaller edition of the same 
 stock, who, being the very least, or httlest, of the tribe of 
 Judah, had the diminutive appellation of Parvus Ager. 
 These college names indicated the relations which existed 
 between the two, and which continue still, for never am I 
 " in any trouble of mind, body or estate," that I do not 
 turn to him who is " older and wiser " ; and to this day, 
 when I find myself in the arms of this big-brained, big- 
 breasted, big-hearted brother, I feel that I am about as 
 near " the realm where love abides " as I expect to be tiU 
 I pass over the river. 
 
 The afternoon that I arrived the large house had been 
 the scene of a reception at which there had been a bril- 
 liant array of Washington society, in which Mr. Blaine, 
 who attracted all eyes, divided attention with the Chinese 
 Ambassador. For aU this I came too late, for which I 
 was not sorry, as nothing fatigues me so much as a crowd, 
 and there were over four hundred guests. So I was con- 
 tent to hear aU about it, and to receive the report as one 
 listening to the faint murmur of the outer world, when it 
 is BO soft and gentle as not to disturb the peace and hap- 
 piness within. These are the consolations of exile. And 
 so I find that to be banished is not a cruel punishment, if 
 one may chooce his place of exile, in which case I should 
 certainly choose Washington. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 OVER THE MOUNTAINS— ASHEVILLE AND KNOXVILLE— 
 A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR. 
 
 " On to Richmond " was the cry in the early days of 
 the war : but it took our armies four years to make the 
 distance which I now made in four hours. As I passed 
 through it, I caught sight of a famihar face, that of the 
 Hon. J. L. M. Curry, who had showed me so much kind- 
 ness in Madiid, and now came to speed me on my way, 
 only exacting a promise that I should pay him a visit on 
 my return. With such friendly benedictions we glided 
 away towards the going down of the sun, for though I had 
 been ordered to the South, it was with full liberty as to 
 the route I should take, so that I could " meander" hither 
 and thither, towards the mountains or the sea. 
 
 From Richmond the direct route to Florida is by the 
 Atlantic Coast line, passing through Charleston and Savan- 
 nah, by which one who takes the Vestibule Train in New 
 York, can be transported, with the greatest possible com- 
 fort, to Jacksonville, in thirty hom-s, and in two hours more 
 to St. Augustine. But I was in no such pressing haste. 
 My orders were only to keep moving southward, getting 
 all the while into a milder climate. With this liberty, I 
 
IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA. 17 
 
 followed my usual bent in turning aside, as the fancy took 
 me, to places of interest, to reach my destination at last, 
 though in a roundabout way. On the western border of 
 Virginia is a chain of mountains, full of wild and beautiful 
 scenery, to see which, instead of going directly South, I 
 turned to the Southwest, and the next morning found my- 
 self at Asheville, in North Carolina, a place which has of 
 late become one of the most famous resorts in the country. 
 Its attractions are those of scenery and cHmate. It lies in 
 the lap of mountains, being itself at an elevation of more 
 than two thousand feet above the level of the sea. The air 
 that sweeps through these pine forests is pure and bracing, 
 while even the hill-tops are protected by ranges of moun- 
 tains from the storms of the North. If a blizzard from 
 Dakota, having lost its way, comes thundering down upon 
 the Alleghanies, it is caught by these snowy peaks, some of 
 which are six or seven thousand feet high, and tossed into 
 the upper sky, while the air is kept untroubled below. To 
 this position is due the remarkable evenness of tempera- 
 ture. Surrounded and protected by these guardian 
 mountains, Asheville knows nothing of the extremes of 
 cUmate. It is never very hot, nor very cold. For this 
 reason it is a resort all the year round, in the Winter being 
 taken possession of by Northerners, who at this moment 
 throng the corridors of the Battery Park Hotel (one of the 
 best hotels in all the South), but who at the approach of 
 Summer return to their own beautiful country seats on the 
 Hudson, or in New England, while their places here are 
 filled by Southerners, who find this Hill Country a welcome 
 retreat from the lowlands of the Carolinas or the Gulf 
 States. 
 
 The region so healthful is equally remarkable for beauty, 
 as one can see even from the hotel, which stands on a hill- 
 top, with the ground sloping from it on every side, so that 
 
18 ASHEVILLE : 
 
 from my window I look clown into a deep gorge that is 
 shut in by the Eastern hiUs, over which comes the fii'st 
 gleam of the morning sun ; and walking round the wide 
 verandas, I can be in the sunshine all day long, fi'om sun- 
 rise to sunset. 
 
 But for all this I should not have known how very 
 beautiful the country was, and should have gone away 
 with eyes but half opened, if a gentleman who lives in 
 AsheviUe, and is a large landed proprietor, had not taken 
 me to points of view which a stranger might not discover. 
 This was Mr. Pier son, a brother-in-law of Dr. Curry, to 
 whom the latter had entrusted me as his friend, and who 
 therefore took me in charge as if I were an old acquaint- 
 ance. Driving me out of town two or three miles, he led 
 the way to a hill on which he is building a house for him- 
 self, a point of view from which the eye takes in a circuit 
 of fifty miles, within which is included every variety of 
 landscape. How many peaks there are on the horizon, I 
 will not pretend to say. On the west are the Smoky 
 Mountains of Tennessee, which figure so much in the 
 stories of Charles Egbert Craddock, while northward and 
 southward are the mountains of Virginia and the Carolinas. 
 Nor is that other element of beauty in a landscape, water, 
 wanting. At the very foot of the hiU flows the " French 
 Broad," a river worthy of its name, which in its volume 
 and swiftness reminds one of the most famous river of 
 Europe, as it " nobly foams and flows " with a majesty 
 almost like that of the Rhine. 
 
 But this is not the only beautiful place near Ashe- 
 viUe. On the other side of the town is another more 
 finished, which by a curious coincidence belongs to another 
 brother-in-law of Dr. Curry, Col. Connelly, a brave Confed- 
 erate officer, who lost an arm at Gettysburg, but who 
 " bates not a jot of heai't or hope," and divides his time, 
 
ITS BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONS. 19 
 
 with almost equal enthusiasm, between the care of his 
 estate and the study of the Bible. The latter amounts to 
 a holy passion with him. I found him with his dictionaries 
 and reference books wide open on his table, and he told 
 me that he devoted to this study six hours a day ! From 
 his library he has but to step out upon a broad balcony, 
 to look round upon a scene as fair to the eye as that 
 which Moses saw from the top of Pisgah. Indeed he has 
 the advantage of Moses, in that he has already entered 
 into his Promised Land, while Moses could only see his 
 from a distance. Men who are devout lovers of both nature 
 and the Bible, cannot help illustrating their ideas of one 
 from what they see of the other, and I doubt not the 
 gallant Colonel, as he looks across to the rich meadows 
 on the other side of the river, has visions of " green fields 
 beyond the swelling flood," and as the sun goes down in 
 the west, and every mountain peak is tipped with fire, he 
 may weU think that he catches a glimpse of the heavenly 
 towers and battlements. 
 
 In truth, it is an enchanting country, bringing forth in 
 abundance aU the fruits of the earth. "Why do not the 
 fanners of New England, who find their winters long and 
 bitterly cold, and their soils hard and unproductive, seek 
 new homes here in this milder climate, with this richer 
 soil, instead of going off to the most distant territories ? 
 It would be a delightful change. Our good Presbyterians 
 would find themselves at home, for Asheville has its Pres- 
 byterian church, with an excellent pastor. Many of them 
 would live longer and make a living easier ; for the soil is 
 rich and productive, and they would not be so far away 
 fi'om the homes of their childhood, as if they had emigrat- 
 ed to Idaho or Montana. 
 
 "When we left Asheville, we kept still westward, down 
 the valley of the French Broad, which opened many a 
 
20 KNOXVILLE. 
 
 pretty vista as we wound along its banks, till we came to 
 where the hills parted, and in the green intervale between, 
 bubble up the Hot Springs, whose medicinal qualities have 
 made it a great resort, both for invalids and for the fash- 
 ionable world. Here is a hotel of such dimensions and so 
 well appointed as to suggest that some Eastern capitalists 
 have been putting their money into it ; and inquiring, I 
 learned that my old friends, George F. Baker (President 
 of the First National Bank of New York) and Henry C. 
 Fahnestock, whose long arms reach out in many directions, 
 had found this lovely spot, and picked up a trifle of a few 
 thousand acres among the mountains of North CaroHna. 
 
 Soon after leaving the Hot Springs, we cross the border- 
 line, and are in Tennessee. Like the other States which 
 lie along the great AiDpalachian chain, it has a broad 
 expanse, stretching from the mountains to the river, with 
 its head lifted into the clouds, while its feet are dipped in 
 the Father of Waters. It is almost an Alpine region 
 tlu'ough which we enter the State, winding upward till, a 
 Uttle after noon, we halt at Knoxville, the capital of East 
 Tennessee. A long street leads up to the centre of the 
 town, where, in the early settlement, were erected the 
 Court House and other jjublic buildings, as a nucleus for 
 the gathering population. Knoxville is a place which has 
 a history, being one of the first settlements west of the 
 mountains. Of course I could not be in such a historic 
 city even for a few hours without a desire to know all 
 about it ; but there was no one to tell me, for as I had not 
 been quite sure of my own route, I had come without 
 introductions. In this extremity, I did what I have some- 
 times done before — inquired for the nearest Presbyterian 
 minister, and being directed to the parsonage, introduced 
 myself to the pastor of the First Church, the Rev. Dr. 
 Pai'k. I found him a man of stalwai-t proportions, with a 
 
GROWTH OF THE CITY. 21 
 
 beard which gave him a patriarchal appearance, who, when 
 he had looked me over, and concluded that I was "aU 
 right," invited me into his house, and gave me a seat before 
 an open fire which warmed us both, and in the glow of 
 which we soon got acquainted ; and he ended by taking a 
 buggy and driving me about the town, by which I learn- 
 ed more of its history in a few hours than I could have 
 learned by myself in a week. Naturally the first object of 
 interest was his own church, which is the mother of all the 
 churches, in whose graveyard sleep many of Tennessee's 
 illustrious dead, among them the Hon. Hugh L. "WTiite, 
 once a candidate for the Presidency of the United States. 
 Among the Hving relics of other days is Mrs, Ramsey, the 
 widow of the historian of Tennessee, to whom I was glad 
 to pay my respects. 
 
 And now for a stretch over the hills. Knoxville is 
 a city of hills as much as Eome ever was, though I think 
 there must be more than seven here. As we passed from 
 one hilltop to another, my venerable guide was full of the 
 infonnation for which I was eager. We found that the 
 city was growing on every side. New streets and avenues 
 were being opened, and the sound of the hammer in many 
 quarters told of the multiplication of dwellings to provide 
 for the increase of inhabitants. Few cities in the United 
 States have grown so rapidly in the last decade. "In 
 1880," said Dr. Park, " the population, according to the 
 census, was 10,500. To-day it is 43,000. Thus within 
 these nine years it has increased fourfold ! " And very 
 pleasant it was to see the homes that were provided for 
 he incoming multitude ; that, instead of the houses being 
 crowded in blocks, plastered together like so many bricks 
 in a wall, they stood apart, each in its little plot of ground, 
 with a pretty yard in front, and room for flowers and vines, 
 wh ich not only gave a look of beauty as seen fi-om without, 
 
22 HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 but were suggestive of taste and refinement within. All this 
 is a token of the general cultivation which becomes a city 
 enthroned upon the hills. It would seem to be just the 
 place for literary institutions ; nor was I surprised to find 
 one of its hills already crowned by the University of Ten- 
 nessee. 
 
 But one thing more remained, and that was a visit to a 
 point of great historical interest in the late war. The 
 people of Tennessee were generally opposed to secession, 
 but when the State Government cast in its lot with the 
 South, many felt that it was the part of patriotism to share 
 its fate. Others left their homes, and making their way 
 across the mountains into Kentucky, joined the Union 
 armies. Thus East Tennessee was between two fires, but 
 no great event occurred tiU near the close of 1863, when 
 Knoxville had a siege and a defence that were among the 
 most notable in the war. That I might understand it 
 better. Dr. Park drove me to Fort Sanders, on the outskirts 
 of the city, which was the scene of the conflict. Here, as 
 we stood on an angle of the old earthworks, he indicated 
 to me the position of the two armies, till it was all sj^read 
 out before me as on a map. 
 
 To know the momentous importance of what was here 
 to take place, I must recall to my readers the situation at 
 the moment, which was one of the most critical of the war. 
 The year 1863 had seen great events. After the disasters 
 of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, had come the inva- 
 sion of Pennsylvania, that was beaten back by the battle 
 of Gettysburg, a victory which elated the North as much 
 as the previous defeats had depressed it. But now came 
 another tremendous blow at Chickamauga — a battle of 
 which I have always had a very vivid impression from the 
 description given me by General Gai*field. Again the 
 country was in great anxiety. Grant was sent to Chatta- 
 
A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR. 23 
 
 nooga to take command, and fresb troops from the Ai'my 
 of the Potomac were whirled with incredible sj)eed over 
 the mountains, across the Ohio, and down into Tennessee. 
 Meanwhile Bragg held his position in front of Chattanooga, 
 his army stretching for miles along Missionary Kidge. 
 The two armies were in sight of each other ; they could 
 see each other's camp fires, and both were j^i'epai'ing 
 for the inevitable struggle. At this moment Bragg, with 
 what seemed an infatuation, detached Longstreet, his best 
 corps commander, to move to the North, and take Knox- 
 ville, which was an important point of communication 
 between the western portion of the Confederacy and Rich- 
 mond. Perhaps he thought it an easy matter, which could 
 be done in a few days, and that Longstreet could return in 
 time for the great battle that was approaching. But it was 
 not so easy. KnoxvOle, with the country below it, was 
 held by Biurnside, not in great force, but with troops suf- 
 ficient at least to check and harass the enemy. Grant 
 watched the whole movement with the utmost satisfaction, 
 for it suited his military plans to have this strong force 
 out of his way, and he sent orders to Bumside to ojDpose 
 Longstreet at every step, so as to delay his progress, and 
 yet to fall back after every engagement, so as to draio him on, 
 and as he expressed it, " toll him over the river," and then 
 to hold Knoxville at all hazards. 
 
 Never were orders more faithfully carried out. Keep- 
 ing on the defensive, Burnside pursued the poHcy of 
 fighting and retreating, till his troojDS, worn out with 
 marching and battle, dragged themselves over the hills and 
 into Knoxville. 
 
 Of all this Dr. Park was himself an eye-witness. He 
 said : " I was then pastor of a church ten miles south of 
 Knoxville, and saw both armies as they marched by. First 
 came the Federals : they passed my door, numbers of the 
 
24 THE SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE. 
 
 officers were in my house, and spoke freely of the situation, 
 anticipating defeat ; and when the next day Longstreet 
 appeared, and began to ask about the roads this side and 
 that side of Ivnoxville, I said to him, ' You need only to 
 march straight against the city, and send in a flag of truce, 
 with a summons, to receive an immediate surrender ! ' " 
 This was no doubt good sound Presbyterian doctrine, but 
 perhaps the old soldier thought he was a better judge than 
 even the most orthodox minister. However, the latter 
 maintains to this day, that if his advice had been followed, 
 the place would have fallen. Certainly it was in imminent 
 peril, and every moment that the attack could be delayed 
 was a gain to Burnside. No sooner had he entered the 
 town, than his troops, though ready to drop with fatigue 
 and cold and hunger, were set to work with spade and 
 shovel ; and the people of the place, white and black, were 
 pressed into the service ; and all together worked day and 
 night, resting but two hours in the twenty-four ; while a 
 force of 700 cavalry, harassing the Confederates, dela^^ed 
 their advance, till their camjps were pitched in sight of the 
 town, when the place was in a state of defence that render- 
 ed it possible to hold it. For ten days the siege went on. 
 Longstreet took it deliberately, perhaps thinking that he 
 had a sure thing ; that Burnside was caged where he could 
 not escape, but as time became more pressing he determin- 
 ed to carry the place by assault. This is bloody business, 
 but it is soon over. Dr. Park pointed out just where he 
 planted his batteries, and the slope up which the attack 
 must come. The garrison had cut away the trees so as to 
 have free range for their guns, and strung telegrajih-wires 
 from stump to stump to trip the feet of the charging 
 column. Longstreet had given express orders that the 
 assault should be made with a rj/s/i, for he knew well that 
 no troops could stand for many minutes the withering fire 
 
TERRIBLE SLAUGHTER. 25 
 
 that would be opened upon tlieni. Having thus issued the 
 order of battle, he waited only for daybreak. Just as the 
 sun rose the flag of the Foi-t soared to the peak, aud the 
 band saluted it with the Star Spangled Banner. On the 
 instant fi-om without the walls there rose a wild yell, as the 
 troops that had crept up the slope under cover of a fog 
 rushed to the assault. The same moment the earthworks 
 were crested with flame, and shot and shell tore through 
 the Confederates. Yet on they came, like the waves of the 
 sea, dashed up by the tremendous force behind. Men 
 rushed into the ditch and struggled up the embankment, 
 but the fire was incessant ; aud to add to the destruction, 
 hand-grenades were thrown by the hundred to explode in 
 the mass below. Still the survivors climbed over the 
 bodies of the fallen, and battle-flags were planted on the 
 parapet, to be instantly torn down. An officer planting 
 his hand on a gun, demanded surrender, and was blown 
 into eternity. Such a fire no human endurance could 
 stand long. In five minutes it was all over. Seven hun- 
 dred men lay dead or dying in the trench below, and three 
 hundred were taken prisoners. The siege of KnoxviUe 
 was ended. The city remained in Union hands, but the 
 assault was one in which the glory was divided : for never 
 was greater courage shown in an assault, as never was a 
 besieged place more bravely defended. 
 
 And now here were we, two ministers of the Gospel, 
 standing on the top of the old earthworks, and talking it 
 aU over. My friend is an intense Southerner (for which I 
 don't blame him), and I thought had a lingering regret 
 that Longstreet had not followed his advice ; but still, 
 inasmuch as he is a good Presbyterian and a devout 
 believer in Divine decrees, that "whatsoever is ordained 
 surely cometh to pass," I think he is willing to submit to 
 the decision of the Almighty. 
 
26 A UNIOX MAN DURING THE WAR. 
 
 It was a tlirilling story, which had tenfold interest 
 when recalled on the yery spot where the events took 
 place, and I was extremely grateful to the best of gnide3 
 who had brought me here, as well as for aU his kindness 
 and courtesy to " a pilgrim and a stranger." 
 
 But the hospitality of Knoxville did not end here. As 
 we rode back into town, we met at a great warehouse in 
 the main street a notable citizen, Mr. Perez Dickinson, a 
 New Englander by birth, a native of Amherst, Mass., but 
 who has lived here fifty-nine years, remaining through the 
 war, though he was known as a Union man, and would 
 never take the oath of allegiance to the Confederacy. As 
 his carriage was at the door, he bade me " come up into 
 the chariot," and took me off to his house, and kept me to 
 tea and thi-ough the evening, diu'ing which, as we sat 
 before the fire, I asked him innumerable questions, and 
 learned more about East Tennessee, its early history, the 
 character of its first settlers (who were in the main of 
 Scotch-Irish descent), and of the late war, including the 
 memorable siege, than I ever knew before, and now con- 
 sider myself (at least among those who are as ignorant 
 as I was) an authority on the subject. At nine o'clock 
 the pastor of the Presbyterian church, which is connected 
 with the Northern Assembly, called and accompanied me to 
 the station, where I took the night train for Chattanooga. 
 
CHAPTER ni. 
 
 LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AVAR MEMORIES ATLANTA. 
 
 It was after midniglit when we left Knoxville. In 
 turning southward, we passed over the very route by which 
 Longstreet had come up the valley of the Tennessee, to 
 make the assault which I have briefly described ; and as I 
 was full of the history, it took such hold of my imagina- 
 tion that I seemed now and then to hear the tramp of 
 armed men, and the rumbling of the artillery wagons as 
 they moved forward to battle. But it was a relief to wake 
 and find that such visions were only in my dreams, and 
 that when I looked out through the curtains of my window, 
 I could not see a single camp-fire, nor hear a sound but 
 that of the wind whispering through the forest. "When 
 morning came, we were drawing into Chattanooga, and as 
 a hungry traveller, I was looking round for a breakfast, 
 when I was saluted by a familiar voice — that of Mr. S. A. 
 Cunningham of the Nashville American, to: whom I had 
 telegraphed that I was to take this route, and who had come 
 all the way from Nashville to meet me. It was a jDleasant 
 surprise, and of course I gave up at once the idea of going 
 on directly to Atlanta, and accepted his suggestion to spend 
 the forenoon upon Lookout Mountain. This is not at all 
 
28 LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 
 
 difficvilt, as a street-car takes you to its foot, from which a 
 railway, rising at a sharj3 angle, lifts you to the top. This is 
 not the most romantic way of climbing a mountain. When 
 I went over the Alps in my young days, I preferred to go 
 on foot, with alpenstock in hand, and a trusty guide to 
 lead the way, though of late I confess that when I come to 
 the Rhigi, which is a pretty long pull, I am wilhng to take 
 steam as a substitute for legs. It saves an immense 
 amount of muscle, as it does here, and there is a pleasant 
 sensation in being carried up, as in the chariot of EHjah, 
 and alighting on a movintain peak. The car stops at the 
 extreme end of the ridge, where stands a hotel, planted on 
 a ledge of rock, far above the " sea of pines " that waves 
 below. Here, as you walk round the broad veranda, you 
 look down into forest depths on every side, while you seem 
 to be on a level with the eagles that are soaring into the 
 blue vault of heaven. 
 
 At this point you " change carriages," taking another 
 track, which runs along the very crest of the mountain. 
 You are now in the rear of Lookout (caUing the side toward 
 Chattanooga the fi-ont), and as you pass slowly along the 
 edge of the cliff, you take in the exact scene of " the battle 
 above the clouds." My ideas of It had been somewhat 
 vague, and indeed I had heard some would-be critics 
 (who, however, had never smelt gunpowder) intimate with 
 a sneer that this boasted engagement "was not what it 
 was cracked up to be." Far be it from me to ai'gue with 
 such learned authorities ; but without pretending to any 
 military knowledge, I must say that my impression of what 
 the battle must have been was greatly increased by what I 
 saw, for the mountain is higher, and the ascent more pre- 
 cipitous. All round the top, it is so escarped by natuie as 
 to present a succession of crags, so high and bold as to 
 constitute a natural fortress, easy of defence, which the 
 
THE BATTLE ABOVE THE CLOUDS. 29 
 
 bravest soldiers woiild not wish to attack in the face of an 
 enemy. Scanning the position more closely, we could see 
 why Hooker threw his troops round the mountain, and 
 took it in the rear, for here are points more accessible, and 
 the ascent was through a forest which was itself some pro- 
 tection. xVs the advance had to be made through thick 
 woods, it could not be in close formation, where a well- 
 aimed shot, tearing through a solid column, would strike 
 down numbers. The companies and regiments had to be 
 broken up as in a skirmish line, by which they were less 
 exposed, and were partly screened by rocks and trees. 
 Then, too, as they came under the cliffs, their very steep- 
 ness was an advantage, for the guns above could not be 
 depressed low enough to do execution. For this reason 
 the mountain batteries were almost useless, and the combat 
 was chiefly with musketry, men fighting hand to hand. 
 All these concessions we make willingly, and yet, when all 
 is said and done, it was a daring attempt to storm that 
 mountain height, and the hteral truth of history can take 
 nothing fi-om the glory of " the battle above the clouds." 
 
 Alighting from the car, we walked perhaps a mile 
 across the plateau of the mountain. I was surprised at its 
 extent. It is covered by a grove, under the shade of which 
 a large body of troops might pitch their tents. As we 
 come to the other side, we are again on the brow of a chff, 
 from which we take in the whole wide vaUey below. 
 Yonder is Chattanooga, round which, as a centre, was 
 encamped the army of Grant, stretching northward as far 
 as the eye could reach, while the army of Bragg lay in full 
 sight of it, and hardly out of cannon range. My friend, 
 who was in the battle, was able to point out the positions of 
 the two aiTQies, and as he spoke of the movements of that 
 terrible day, it seemed as if the roar of the guns was still 
 in his ears. Of the battle itself the story has been told so 
 
30 LOSSES IN THE BATTLES OP THE WAR. 
 
 often, and by the best of all witnesses, the Commanders on 
 both sides, that it does not need to be rejieated here. It 
 was one of the great events of American history, which I 
 can understand far better now fi-om the hours spent that 
 day on Lookout Mountain. 
 
 When on that mountain top, we were in the very centre 
 of a theatre of great events. Only a few miles distant is 
 the field of Chickamauga, where the battle was fought in 
 Sejitember, 18G3, two months befoi-e that at Chattanooga, 
 which followed in November. A few months since there 
 was a gathering of old soldiers at Chickamauga, in which 
 Federals and Confederates united, (with Gen. Rosecrans, 
 the leader of the Union Army, on one side, and Gen. John 
 B. Gordon on the other,) at which it was proposed that this 
 historic field be set ajoart by the Government, as Gettysbiu'g 
 had been, to be kept forever sacred as the scene of a martial 
 prowess such as has rarely been recorded in the annals of 
 war. If the best proof of courage be the number of losses 
 in proportion to the number of combatants, few battles of 
 modern times can be compared with Chickamauga. The 
 late Franco-German War is often quoted as having fur- 
 nished an exhibition, not only of strategic skill unequalled 
 since the time of Napoleon, but of an imj^etuous valor that 
 took no account of human life. Of this the most signal dis- 
 play was at Mars la Tour, where, a movement of the French 
 army impending for which the German army was not pre- 
 pared, in order to gain a few hours, ^ picked corps of cav- 
 ah-y was ordered to dash itself against the ranks of the 
 enemy. Officers, who saw that such an attack meant the 
 destruction of those who made it, protested against the 
 sacrifice ; but the imperturbable Moltke calmly replied, 
 •' It is not a question of men : it is a question of neces- 
 sity ! " As the order to charge was an order to die, the 
 regiments drew lots to determine which should die first, 
 
IN THE LINE OP SHERMAN'S MARCH. 31 
 
 and then one after the other rode madly against the foe. 
 It was Balaklava over again, only on a larger scale. When 
 the remnants of the squadrons that had passed through 
 the fire, came back again, one-half of that splendid corps 
 was left upon the plain ! But a recent report, made upon 
 exact returns obtained from the War Department, shows 
 that many regiments in our war lost in a single battle more 
 than half of the men who went into it ! Much as we de- 
 plore the fact that this was in a civil war, we should not 
 be worthy of the name of Americans if we could forget 
 such splendid courage. 
 
 The battle of Chattanooga virtually ended the cam- 
 paign of 1863. Bragg withdrew his army forty miles far- 
 ther south to Dalton, where the narrow vaUey broadens 
 into a space sufficient for a large camping-ground. He 
 was soon relieved by General Johnston, who spent the 
 Winter in repairing the losses of the last campaign, and 
 preparing for the next. It came in the Spring with the 
 advance of General Sherman, and for two months there 
 was a battle, large or small, almost every day. The line 
 of march was along the Western and Atlantic Eailroad, 
 without which indeed it is doubtful if the campaign could 
 have been made at all : for the mere j)i'ovisioning of the 
 army required a hundred and forty -five car-loads a day ! 
 
 As I passed over this road, of course I was in the route 
 of the great " Mountain Campaign," and every few min- 
 utes the conductor called my attention to some historic 
 spot. Here was Resaca, at which General Harrison, then in 
 command of an Indiana regiment, is said to have distin- 
 guished himself. And yonder by the track stood an old 
 frame building, weather-beaten and ugly, but which took 
 on a strange interest as I heard that this was the veritable 
 " Big Shanty," which gave name to a battle. It has a gaunt 
 and spectral appearance ; but it once shook with the roar 
 
32 KENESAW MOUNTAIN. 
 
 of artillery that thundered through the valley, and its 
 floors were covered with wounded and dying men. 
 
 But the most picturesque scene of battle was Kenesaw 
 Mountain, a noble height, which, overlooking the country 
 round for many miles, formed a sort of Gibraltar for the 
 Confederate Army, by which it was occupied as the centre 
 of its position, with batteries on its very stunmit and along 
 its sides, whUe the right and left wings of the army reached 
 out for miles on either side. To cany such a position re- 
 quired both generalship and courage of the highest order. 
 Every point was defended with the utmost obstinacy, while 
 the assailants charged in front and on the flank day by 
 day, meeting with terrible losses, but continually bringing 
 up new forces, and pushing forward with in-esistible power. 
 When at last Johnston was obliged to fall back, the moun- 
 tain was immediately occupied by the Union troops, but 
 with no such advantage as before, as the Confederates did 
 not propose to attack it. It answered the purpose, how- 
 ever, of a point of observation, and it was from its summit 
 that, later in the campaign, was signalled the message to a 
 post in the rear that had been suddenly attacked by the 
 enemy, " Hold the fort, for I am coming," which furnished 
 the motto for the famous hymn — a result quite unexpected 
 by the grim old soldier who sent it. He is said not to be 
 always quite " devotional " in his habits of thought or 
 modes of speech, and must have been surprised that his 
 message from the top of Kenesaw Mountain should be 
 caught up as a battle-cry to be used in spiritual conflicts, 
 and to be heralded far and wide, over land and sea. 
 
 But it is hardly possible to count all the fields of battle 
 and of death that lie between Chattanooga and Atlanta. 
 Every valley and every mountain side is hallowed by sol- 
 diers' graves, which lie thicker as we get farther South. 
 Of the terrible combats that raged round Atlanta, I saw 
 
ATLANTA. 33 
 
 a sad memorial the next day, as I drove out two or thi-ee 
 miles to a solitary place in the woods, where a heavy can- 
 non, set upright, stands as a monument to the gallant 
 General McPherson on the very spot where he fell. 
 
 It was a little after dark when we rolled into the sta- 
 tion, and found shelter in that spacious caravayiserai, the 
 Kimball House, where with bath and bed the fatigues of 
 travel were soon forgotten. 
 
 Atlanta is a place in which I feel vei-y much at home. 
 Not that I have been here often, only two or three times ; 
 but we have a representative of Atlanta in Stockbridge, in 
 the person of Mr. John H. Inman, who has his Summer 
 home on our hiU-toj^. There I have become acquainted 
 with his relatives, who came to visit him, so that when I 
 come here, they receive me almost as one of the family — 
 a relation in which I am very glad to be recognized. This 
 cordial welcome, with perhaps something in this Southern 
 climate, soon warms even my cold Northern blood. 
 
 Atlanta has another attraction for me in Henry W. 
 Grady, whom I place alongside of another Summer neigh- 
 bor of mine in the Berkshire Hills, Joseph H. Choate, as 
 two of the most delightful men that ever charmed an 
 audience, moving them at will to laughter or to tears. 
 Mr. Grady is not a man you would make a hero of at first 
 sight. He has not the tall figure of Mr. Choate (he is 
 short and thick-set), nor the keen eye that looks through 
 and through an ugly witness, and by a kind of fascination 
 draws the truth out of him in spite of himself. I found 
 him in his den (for being an editor myself, I know what 
 dens they inhabit) amid piles of newspaper rubbish, which 
 have such an ancient look that they might be mummy 
 cloths unwrapped from the bodies of Egyptians that have 
 been dead thousands of years. He was sitting in one of 
 those convenient office chairs, which are mounted on 
 
34 HEXRY AV. GRADY. 
 
 springs, so that the sitter can turn in any direction (for an 
 editor lias sometimes to shift his position very quickly), 
 leaning back, with his feet on the table in fi'ont, and 
 hugging to his breast a pad on which he was writing a 
 letter. Thus doubled up, he dashes off letters or news- 
 paj)er articles right and left. The versatility of the man 
 amazes me ; no amount of work disconcerts him ; he sees 
 everybodjr, talks with chance visitors, while he keeps on 
 writing ; and then can jump up at a minute's notice, and 
 go to any sort of gathering, and make a speech on any 
 subject! He has in him the elements of a successful 
 pohtician : for he is as nimble as a cat, and like a cat, 
 always falls on his feet. I do beUeve, if you should toss 
 him into the aii* or throw him out of the fourth-story 
 window, he would light on the ground all right, and be 
 ready to start off on the instant to speak at any pubUc 
 gathering, political or reUgious, whether it were to address 
 a camp-meeting, or make a rousing speech at a Democratic 
 Convention. 
 
 Though he has been for some years known at the South, 
 he was little known at the North until two years ago, when 
 he appeared at the New England dinner in New York. I 
 was at that time abroad ; but one day in Palermo, in Sicily, 
 a lady just from Naples handed me an American paper 
 which contained his sjieech, and I read it, not once but 
 many times, and each time with a new appreciation of its 
 wonderful jjathos and j)ower. That speech made his 
 reputation at the North. When I came home I got the 
 pamphlet that contained the proceedings of the New Eng- 
 land Society, in which it was reported in full, and it is 
 often read in my family, though I confess to a little sj)ite 
 against it, for there is a person whom I cannot bear to see 
 shed a tear, who, when she tries to read it, always finds 
 something in her throat. 
 
ROUND THE HEARTHSTONE. 35 
 
 Busy as lie was, ]\Ir. Grady must needs liave me to 
 dinner, and, to tell tlie truth, " Barkis was willin'," for, like 
 Mr. Cboate, he is nowhere so delightful as in his own home, 
 where all preoccupation is gone, and he can give himself up 
 to his fi'iends. Here his wit and humor are infinite. Few 
 men can tell a story so well. To hear him give the outlines 
 of a recent work of fiction, as he did of " The Two Little Con- 
 federates," was next to reading the story. Out of respect 
 to my clerical character, he invited three of the city pastors 
 to meet me, a Presh_)'terian, a Methodist, and a Baptist, of 
 whom I can only say that, if they are fair representatives of 
 their respective denominations, the pulpit of Atlanta will 
 rank with the pulpit of New York. 
 
 [The above was written some months ago— in May, 1889— and now 
 as these pages are going to press, it is with inexpressible pain that I 
 have to add, that he who was the life of that happy home, the centre of 
 all that brightness, has gone to the grave. Mr. Grady was of a compact 
 frame, capable of any amount of labor and endurance. Subject to no 
 disease, he had the promise of a long life, with ever growing influence 
 and power. But late in the Autumn he took a cold, which, though 
 severe, would have yielded to treatment, if he could have remained 
 under his own roof. But he was continually pressed to go away, to 
 speak on public occasions. Yielding to this importunity, he had accepted 
 an invitation to address the Merchants Club of Boston, for which he 
 had prepared himself, and as the time approached, though unfit to leave 
 home, he could not bear to disappoint his friends. He went and made 
 a speech on the Race Problem, which was considered by those who heard 
 both, as even more able, if not more eloquent, than that at the New 
 England dinner. But it was at his peril that he came out of that crowded 
 and heated room into the wintry air. The exposure was increased by 
 an excursion to Plymouth Rock: so that he returned to New York, not 
 better but worse. But still those about him were not alarmed: and as 
 he was with a party of friends, he yielded to his urgent desire to return 
 home. At Atlanta a crowd was waiting for him to cheer him for his 
 success at the North, but he was too weak to receive their congratula- 
 tions, and was driven directly to his home, where all that medical sldll 
 could do, with the fondest love and care, was done for him, but without 
 avail, and on the 23d of December, in the eai'ly morning, his brave heart 
 ceased to beat. So passed away, at the age of thirty-eight years, in the 
 very prime of life, the most brilliant young man of the South. One of 
 the last things he said, was, " If I die, I die serving the South, the land 
 I love so well. My father died fighting for it : I am proud to die speaking 
 for it," words that might well be graven on his tomb.] 
 
CHAPTEE rV. 
 
 FLORIDA — ST. AUGUSTINE THE PONCE DE LEON. 
 
 It was a long night-ride from Atlanta across Georgia. 
 The State is imperial in extent, and like a good many 
 other gi'and things, if you have too much of it, becomes 
 a trifle weai'isome. "Jordan is a hard road to travel," 
 and in this respect, if in no other, Georgia is like Jordan, 
 as indeed any other State would be, if you had to 
 travel over it in the dark, seeing nothing, and with every 
 bone in your body in pain from fatigue. I do not find 
 much poetry in travelling at night, though sometimes, as I 
 listen to the incessant roUing in the long dark watches, I 
 try to comfort myself with the inspiring negro melody, 
 " Roll, Jordan, roll ! " and to imagine that these ever-roll- 
 ing wheels and fire-drawn cars are the mighty chariots of 
 civilization. But all this poetry and jihilosophy I would 
 give for a good sound sleep. The real necessity for these 
 night -joui'neyings is that the days are not long enough, 
 the distances are so great. Thus it was Georgia when we 
 went to bed, and when we rose it was Georgia still, and it 
 was full noon before we crossed the border into Florida. 
 
 At last we are in the Peninsula State, and stop at Jack- 
 sonville, which but a few months ago was desolated by the 
 
ST. AUGUSTINE. 3T 
 
 yellow fever. But of this not a trace remains, either of the 
 fever or the panic it inspired. It was hard to realize, as 
 we walked along the quiet streets, that this was the place 
 from which, even so late as the Autumn, the inhabitants 
 were fleeing in terror. Now every precaution has been 
 taken against its recurrence, and there is once more a 
 feeling of perfect secimty ; and the broad and beautiful 
 river that sweeps past the town does not flow more tran- 
 quilly than the hves of the easy-going population. 
 
 A couple of hours more brought us to St. Augustine. 
 It was dark when we arrived, but a few minutes took us 
 from the station into such a centre of stately halls and 
 blazing lights and music and gay society, that we might 
 have been in the very heaii; of Paris. 
 
 St. Augustine is the oldest town in the United States, 
 having been settled by the Spaniards in 1565, forty-two years 
 before Captain John Smith landed at Jamestown, fifty-five 
 years before the Pilgrims set foot on Plymouth Rock, and 
 only seventy-three years after Columbus first saw the 
 shores of the New World ! Hardily was it settled before 
 it was fortified, for even in those early days enemies were 
 abroad. The story of the riches of Mexico and Peru had 
 filled all Europe, and the ships that bore the treasure to 
 Spain tempted the sea-rovers of all nations, and the Bucca- 
 neers — another name for pirates — kept watch along this 
 coast for the gold that was being carried across the sea 
 to fill the treasuries of the successors of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella. This kind of robbery, pleasantly disguised under 
 the name of war, was continued for the better part of a 
 century, and even distinguished English navigators did not 
 disdain to enrich themselves with the treasure of Sj)anish 
 galleons. Sir Francis Drake, sailing up the coast, and 
 descrying across the low sandy shore some sign of human 
 habitation, landed here and burnt the town. This disaster 
 
38 THE OLD FORT. 
 
 compelled the Spaniards to still greater efforts for protec= 
 tion, and in place of the old stockade rose a formidable 
 Fort, wliicli remains to this day, the best specimen this 
 side the Atlantic of the style of fortification common in 
 Eiu'ope in the Middle Ages. It covers perhaps an acre of 
 ground, with walls of stone twelve feet thick, intended to 
 mount a hundi'ed guns, with projecting bastions, and 
 round towers at each corner of the quadrangle, from 
 which sentinels kej)t watch over land and sea, the whole 
 surrounded by a moat, that could be filled with water. 
 Connected with this was a canal extending across the 
 peninsula, so that entrance to the city could only be 
 through massive gates, that were strongly guarded. The 
 Fort, when fully garrisoned, would hold a thousand men. 
 Thus St. Augustine was secure against any attack that was 
 likely to be made upon it. 
 
 Of course these defences would not be of much use in 
 our day. A ship of war, or even a gunboat, carrying the 
 heavy modern ordnance, woiild knock the old Fort to 
 pieces in half an hour. No attempt is made to keej) it in 
 condition. The guns are not even mounted, but lying on 
 the grass, or in the moat, with pyramids of baUs beside 
 them. 
 
 The interest of the old Fort therefore is not as a forti- 
 fication, but as a relic of the past. As such, it has indeed 
 a strange and curious interest, mingled with suggestions 
 of the barbaric warfare of those old times. For here are 
 not only embrasures for guns and casemates, but dungeons 
 dark as the tomb, in which j)risoners were confined. Even 
 the chapel has a melancholy suggestion in the side rooms, 
 where the condemned sat to listen to mass before they 
 were led to execution. In one of the dark underground 
 rooms two skeletons were found susi^ended to the wall, 
 where j)erhaps the living had been hung in chains till they 
 
A SPANISH MASSACRE. 39 
 
 Bhould exjjire. Outside the Fort, in the moat, is a pro- 
 jecting wall riddled with balls, which, before being buried 
 in the stone, had passed through the quivering bodies of 
 the condemned who were " stood up " against this wall 
 to receive the fatal shot. 
 
 These surroundings affected me as did the old quarters 
 of the Inquisition in Seville. Of course those who perish- 
 ed here may have been mvirderers and deserved their fate. 
 But they may have been helpless Indians, or merely 
 Huguenot emigrants who landed on this inhospitable 
 coast. There is nothing in the history of Spanish perse- 
 cutions or massacres on the other side of the ocean, more 
 cold-blooded and cruel than the massacre of some hun- 
 dreds of French Huguenots, who, fleeing from persecution 
 at home, sought a refuge in Florida. Shipwrecked a few 
 miles south of St. Augustine, they were overpowered by 
 the garrison, and were deUberately led out and butchered, 
 their captors teUing them, with the exultation of fiends, 
 that it was not because they were Frenchmen, but because 
 they were heretics! That was the freedom to worshij) 
 God which the exiles found on the shores of the New 
 "World ! It was a terrible crime, and brought a terrible 
 retribution : for years after, a Frenchman, filled with in- 
 dignation at the horrible atrocity, fitted out an exjDedition, 
 which safely crossed the sea, and landed a few miles above 
 St. Augustine ; and coming suddenly upon a detached post, 
 captui-ed the garrison, who were made to pay for the cru- 
 elties of their leaders a few years before. The sentence 
 was dehberate, and they understood it well. As they were 
 marched to execution, it was announced to them that they 
 suffered death, not because they were Spaniards, nor yet 
 because they were Catholics, but because they were robbers 
 and murderers ! 
 
 Remembering all these things, and what cruelties had 
 
40 THE QUAINT OLD TOWN. 
 
 been perpetrated by the Sj^aniards in Mexico and Peru, 
 I could but think it not at all improbable that the deadly 
 shots fired in this ditch of the old Foi-t at St. Augustine, 
 may have struck down the innocent as often as the guilty. 
 
 These are dark shadows on the tropical beauty and 
 loveliness around, though partly hidden in the far-off twi- 
 light of thi-ee centiu'ies ago. It makes one shiver even 
 now to think such deeds were ever possible in this New 
 "World. But again there comes a reaction, and this Span- 
 ish massacre is a landmark from which we can measure 
 the progress made since that bloody time, and thank God 
 that such crimes can no more be committed in His name ! 
 
 And now the old Fort is only a pictvu'esque ruin ; and 
 very pictiu'esque it is to me, as I walk along the sea-wall 
 at sunset, just as the evening gun fi'om the barracks in 
 another part of the town signals the close of day, and 
 look up to the little round towers, out of which the Sjaan- 
 ish sentinels looked, to keep watch for the terrible Eng- 
 lish rovers who were sweeping the seas ! 
 
 St. Augustine is a thoroughly Spanish town, so that 
 now and then, as I wander about its narrow streets, I feel 
 as if I had gone astray, and were back again in some out- 
 of-the-way place of Old Castile. The original settlers were 
 largely fi-om the island of Minorca, and my friend, Dr. 
 Anderson, who last year made a visit to Spain, crossed 
 over to Port Mahon, where, from the names on the shops 
 in the streets, he seemed to be among his neighbors in 
 St. Augustine. These associations give a singular charm 
 to this quaint old town, which is full of nooks and corners, 
 about which those who are beginning to be in " the sere 
 and yellow leaf " (shall I count myself among them ?) can 
 wander all day long, and dream dreams and see visions. 
 
 But after aU is said and done — after we have walked 
 round and round as many times as the pilgrims to Mecca 
 
WHY AVE COME TO FLORIDA. 41 
 
 walk round the holy Kaaba, in which is the black stone 
 that feU down fi'om heaven — what remains ? I have 
 been about the world a good deal within the last fifteen 
 years, and my rule has been to see everything as rapidly 
 and as thoroughly as possible, and then "move on." And 
 now, after seeing Europe, Asia, and Africa, what is there 
 that should detain me, or detain any man, very long in 
 St. Augustine, or in Florida ? I confess there is not a 
 great deal, if we come merely to see sights. The country 
 is not picturesque ; no mountains rear their summits to 
 the sky ; nor has it even the full beauty of the sea, for 
 though almost surrounded by it, its long shore-line lies 
 too near the level of the water. As you sail past it, you 
 see no Dover cHffs, which look down into "the confined 
 deep " ; you miss the i-ugged grandeur of a wild and stormy 
 coast ; in fact, there is hardly coast enough for the waves 
 to dash against, so that the mighty ocean, unless stii-red by 
 a tempest, lies as flat and tame as the land beside it. In- 
 deed it is not long ago that the mainland was the sea-bed, 
 with the Gulf of Mexico flowing over it ; and it still has a 
 drowned appearance, as if it could hardly keep its head 
 out of water. 
 
 If you turn back into the interior, the country has a 
 dreary monotony. For a hundred leagues you ride through 
 an endless succession of pine barrens, and as you look list- 
 lessly through your car window, you ask, " Why do our 
 Northern people come to Florida?" And yet for thou- 
 sands of them this desolate country has a strange fascina- 
 tion. "What can it be ? 
 
 It is all expressed in one word — climate. Though the 
 land be flat, the sky is blue, and bends over the earth with 
 a warm and loving embrace, and the soft and balmy air 
 seems to have di'opped do^\^l from heaven itself, as if it 
 were the very atmosphere that angels breathe. 
 
42 THE CLIMATE THAT OF E(iTPT. 
 
 Such a climate I have formd indeed elsewhere, but far 
 from home. If one could choose absolute perfection, I 
 should say that the perfect Winter climate of the world is 
 that of Egypt, where there are no swamps and no jungle, 
 but every particle of miasma is absorbed by the hot air 
 of the surrounding deserts. I speak from my own ob- 
 servation, as I have been twice in Egypt, and some years 
 since spent several weeks on the Nile, where I seemed to be 
 floating in Paradise. But that is very far away : I supj)Ose a 
 man who should take the fastest steamer, and rush through 
 England and across France and Italy day and night, and 
 catch the steamer from Brindisi for Alexandria, might 
 reach Egypt in fifteen days ; but he can reach Florida in 
 thirty hoiu'S, without the fatigue and discomfoii of a sea 
 voyage, and all this wear and tear of his mortal frame. 
 And when he gets here, he has found, not Egypt indeed, 
 but a country that holds about the same place on the 
 earth's surface. Florida is in the same latitude, and has 
 very much the same climate. To be specific, the G-reat 
 PjTamid stands exactly on the 30th pai-allel. St. Augus- 
 tine differs from it by less than one-quarter of a degree, 
 its latitude being 29 degrees, 48 minutes, and 30 seconds ! 
 Owing to the deserts, the climate of Egypt is drier ; while 
 the Gulf Stream, flowing near to the Florida coast, makes 
 its atmosphere moist as well as warm. 
 
 Many who come to Florida feel as if, for the first time 
 in their lives, they knew what it was to breathe. "When I 
 was in Madi-id, I observed that the Spaniards always went 
 about wrapped in cloaks, the right skirt of which they 
 tossed over the left shoulder in a way to cover the mouth, 
 the reason of which is given in the Spanish proverb, that 
 the air of Madrid, " while it might not blow out a candle, 
 could put out a life." In our Northern cities many have 
 to take similar precautions, going about muffled up to the 
 
THE ATMOSPHERE. 43 
 
 chin, and even covering their faces, lest they should inhale 
 the keen and frosty air. 
 
 Such chronic invalids, v^^ho have been all their lives 
 taking care of their health, come to Florida and find that 
 it takes care of itself. The consumptive and the asthmatic 
 throw off theii- wrappings, and have a new sense of free- 
 dom, since they are not afraid of nature's best medicine, 
 the pure air of heaven. They do not have to " catch their 
 breath " ; to gasp for it ; but take a long, deejD inhalation, 
 which causes their lungs to expand as never before. Such 
 breathing is a luxury that makes life worth living. I find 
 the atmosphere so exhilarating, that I can never get 
 enough of it. When I am walking along the bay, or riding 
 through the woods, in some lonely spot where I shall not 
 be observed, I " open my mouth wide," according to the 
 Bible direction, to drink in the heavenly air. 
 
 But to get the benefit of aU this, one must have a habi- 
 tation. When I was on the desert, on the way to Mount 
 Sinai, I hved in tents, like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ; but 
 yovi can hardly live in a tent in Florida. Even in the pine 
 woods you must have a roof over your head, if it be only a 
 log cabin. The old-fashioned Southern houses were roomy 
 and comfortable, and their long and wide verandas ftu:- 
 nished a cool retreat in the heat of the day. In still hotter 
 cHmates, as in India, this is the chief thing to be regarded. 
 In the Indian bungalow, it may almost be said that the 
 main idea is to have a veranda with a house throivn in, the 
 domestic arrangements and the sleejDing apartments being 
 mere attachments to the great lounging place, where men 
 sit all day long, and far into the night, smoking and talk- 
 ing, and where the real life of the people goes on. 
 
 The first hotels in the South were merely enlargements 
 of the old houses on the plantations. Some of those in 
 St. Augustine were modelled on this plan, and answered 
 
44 HOTEL ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 the purpose of tlie travelling public very Avell, until tliey 
 were succeeded by one so iinique and so magnificent, as 
 to deserve a detailed description. 
 
 Connoisseurs of fine arcliitectiu'e are not apt to look 
 for models in liotels, but in churches and cathedrals ; in 
 palaces and stately mansions. The city of New York 
 abounds in hotels, but it has not one that is worth looking 
 at for its architecture. " The Windsor," if it stood out in 
 the country, beside a stream of water, would be taken for 
 a pajjer mill or a cotton factory. Or it might be some 
 public institution, whose needs required that which was 
 useful rather than ornamental ; as its stories are all just 
 alike, with just so many windows, of just the same size, as 
 if they opened into the small rooms intended for the wards 
 of an asylum. There is some excuse for this in a crowded 
 city, where the largest buildings must be put on a line 
 with the street, to utilize every foot of sj)ace, for there is 
 not room to have a great central court. This must be 
 reserved for a situation less crowded, where there is more 
 elbow-room. It is also more suited to a climate wai-mer 
 than that of the Noi*th — conditions which seem to meet in 
 this old Sj)anish town of St. Augustine. And so it came 
 to pass quite naturally that a gentleman of New York, who 
 had been here often enough to apj^reciate the place, and 
 see its possibilities, should have a mind to build a Hotel 
 after his own fancy, that should meet all requirements, 
 and be a welcome retreat for those who, fleeing from the 
 severe Winters of the North, should seek a i^lace of health 
 and of rest. He saw that the Spanish style of architecture 
 was best adapted to a warm climate : and having the good 
 fortune to engage an architect who entered with sjiirit 
 into the design, despatched him to Sj^ain, to study the 
 best sj)ecimens of Spanish architectiu'e in Toledo, Cordova, 
 Seville, and Granada. The result has been a structure 
 
THE PONCE DE LEON. 45 
 
 qiiite unique in this country, and the like of which I have 
 not seen anywhere. 
 
 Having ample space, there was no need to crowd any- 
 tliing ; so that the building, instead of being one huge 
 mass, could be thrown into pavilions, grouped round a 
 great court, with its fountain and flowers ; with projecting 
 balconies (which, if not crowded with Spanish senoritas, 
 are none the less charming with American ladies); and 
 belfry-like towers, rising at the angles, with open arches, 
 from which one can overlook the town, and look far out to 
 sea ; and that are hung at night with many-colored lights, 
 which shed their varied rays upon the enchanted scene. 
 
 Such is the general plan. But of coiu'se, in a building 
 of such extent, there is no end of details, which have to 
 be worked out with the utmost care. Now I do not pro- 
 fess to know much about architecture ; but, like a good 
 many others, I know just enough to find fault. Without 
 technical knowledge, I have an instinct of proportion 
 and of harmony, which detects what is not in accord 
 with them, even when it may be difficult to point out just 
 where the fault lies. If I go into a new church, and it be 
 too long for its width, or the ceiling be too high or too 
 low, I "feel it in my bones." So in the decoration of a 
 room, or the furnishing of it, if there be a want of har- 
 mony of color, rmjfiesh begins to creep before I can tell pre- 
 cisely what is the matter. In this way I have gone about 
 the Ponce de Leon, not with a measuring line in my hand, 
 but trusting solely to my eye, and I have not been able to 
 detect a single fault. " The height and the length and the 
 breadth of it," are not "equal," but they are in perfect 
 proportion. As an editor, true to his calling, I have been 
 a little disappointed that I could not find something to 
 criticize ; but I give it up. Nor have I found any glaring 
 color which offends my taste. On the walls and ceilings 
 
46 THE PONCE DE LEON. 
 
 and even in the furnishing, in carpets and ciuiains and 
 upholstery, everything is subdued to that soft and quiet 
 tone which is most pleasing and grateful to the eye. 
 
 Nor is there in the whole structure a single piece of 
 cheap voork, where unsound places are covered up with lath 
 and plaster. This is a great deal to say in these days 
 (when huge buildings tumble down with their own weight, 
 and others show cracks in the walls), that here is a struc- 
 ture of immense size and cost, every cubic foot of which 
 is solid from the foundation to the capstone. 
 
 The erection of such a building is not only a notable 
 event in the way of art, but reflects the greatest credit 
 upon those who designed it, and the powerful friend who 
 stood behind them, and furnished the munitions of war. 
 It shows genius as well as skill in the young architects who 
 wrought upon it for three years, and who by this work 
 alone must take rank with the most promising of the 
 architects of our country. I am j^roud to say that one of 
 them is the son of my fi'iend for more than thirty years, 
 the Rev. Dr. Hastings, President of the Union Theological 
 Seminary of New York. 
 
 But with aU their genius, they could have produced no- 
 thing so perfect if they had been hampered or restricted by 
 the desire for economy on the part of the owner. There are 
 many who begin with great designs, but, like the man in 
 the Gospel, " are not able to finish," or they get frightened 
 at the magnitude of their own undertakings, and suddenly 
 begin to take in sail, to cut down the estimates, and to 
 cheapen everything. If he who undertook to build the 
 Ponce de Leon had been of that temper, it would have 
 soon come to grief, for when money is going out at a fear- 
 ful rate, most men who have put their hand to the j^lough 
 not only "look hack" but look very hlack also. Not so with 
 its projector. On the contrary, I hear that during the 
 
THE MAN" WHO " ONLY SIGNED THE CHECKS." 4T 
 
 progress of the work, if he ever made a criticism, it was to 
 express a fear that this or that was not good enough, or 
 rich enough, or handsome enough. Instead of holding in 
 the architects, he gave them free rein, and spurred them 
 on to do their very best. 
 
 And who is he that has stood behind this great under- 
 taking from the first, never flinching even when the cost 
 mounted up into the millions ? It is a gentleman who 
 writes a part of his name as I write mine (though unfortu- 
 nately I cannot complete the signatiu'e), IMr. Heniy M. 
 Flagler of New York, who, ha\ing conceived the project, 
 had the nerve to carry it through ; and who, instead of 
 taking the honor to himself, rates his part very lightly, 
 giving all the credit to the architects, saying modestly that 
 he " only signed the checks ! " This was a mere trifle. 
 Only somehow we find that, however elaborate may be the 
 design, and however vast the preparations, but for this 
 httle matter of " signing the checks," the wheels will not 
 move. But indeed in this statement he does not do justice 
 to himself. For if he did not draw the plans, he had the 
 taste to know a good thing when he saw it, and, having 
 faith in his architects, to give them carte blanche to carry out 
 the magnificent design. Out of this combination of means, 
 genius, and will, came the structure which fitly bears the 
 name of the old Spanish navigator who first set foot upon 
 these shores. 
 
 But a single building is by no means the limit of this 
 benefaction. The Ponce de Leon has two large annexes, 
 in two massive piles, with Spanish names — the Cordova 
 and the Alcazar. In the rear of the latter rises a dome 
 which might be the roof of a mosque, and which has 
 under it what may be found in the outer courts of St. 
 Sophia, and of all the great mosques of the Moslem wo-rld, 
 viz : plentiful means of ablution, for here is arranged a 
 
48 A POOL OF BETHE3DA. 
 
 system of Baths tlie most comj)lete that I have seen any- 
 where on this side the Atlantic or the other. The Eussian 
 baths are as complete as the most luxurious in St. Peters- 
 burg, and the Turkish equal to any in Constantinople. 
 In both of them the stranger wiU find stalwart creatures, 
 speaking a foreign tongue, but who seem to understand 
 their business ; who will take him in hand, and steam him 
 tiU it seems as if every drop of perspiration were oozing 
 from his body, and plunge him into the depths, and bring 
 him up again (still alive !), and "douche " him, and at last, 
 after he has been a long time, as it seems, in the hands of 
 the tormentors, will have mercy upon him, and bring him to 
 gently, and rub him with soft warm towels, till there comes 
 over him a delicious feeling, as if he were, though still in 
 the body, a being of another sphere, piu'ified and glorified, 
 freed from the stains of sin, and indeed rather too good 
 for this world. If after this there should reappear a trace 
 of original sin, it may be necessary, on the second or third 
 day, to repeat the ablution ! 
 
 But the great feature of the Baths is a Pool, a hundred 
 and fifty feet long, continually supplied with water fi'om 
 an artesian well, which is the largest in the world. As this 
 is tinctured with sulphur, the stream is carried over the 
 roof of an adjoining building, where it is exjjosed to the 
 air, and is so thoroughly aerated that it is as fi'esh and 
 pure as if it were fi'om a mountain sj)ring. This supply 
 of water fi'om above instead of below, has a pretty effect, 
 as it falls into the Pool in a cascade, which keeps it always 
 stirring, as if the angel of healing were descending into 
 the waters. In this ample si)ace swimmers at all hours 
 are plunging and splashing, while the band discoui'ses 
 inspiring music, and the galleries are crowded with spec- 
 tators looking down upon the animated scene. • 
 
 Here is health united with pleasure — a combination 
 
A BUILDER OF CHURCHES. 49 
 
 whicli ought to make us forever grateful to him who has 
 furnished both. The Koran pronounces a blessing upon the 
 man who oj^ens a fountain in the desert, or plants a tree 
 that the pilgrim may rest under its shade ! What bless- 
 ing ought to be his who has opened a Pool of Bethesda, 
 that wiU continue to flow long after he is gone, to be for 
 the comfort and the healing of many generations ! 
 
 But Mr. Flagler's efforts for the pubhc good are not 
 confined to the physical purification of his fellow-crea- 
 tiu'es. He has built two churches. The Methodist came 
 first, as they are pioneers in almost everything ; and now 
 he has built us Presbyterians such a " cathedral " that we 
 are persuaded that we have the apostoHc succession, and 
 are the true, if not the only true. Church. A man who has 
 supplied such physical and spiritual purification, has cer- 
 tainly done his part both for "cleanliness and godliness." 
 
 And now is it not time for him to stop ? After these 
 years of labor, the work he has undertaken for St. Augus- 
 tine must be nearing completion, so that it can all, to use 
 a common phrase, be " fenced in and painted." " Done ? " 
 It wiU never be done as long as he lives. Indeed it is aU 
 the time extending ; even now he is opening new avenues, 
 paving new streets, buUding a railway station here, and 
 an ii'on bridge across the St. John's at Jacksonville, just 
 to keep his hand in ; so that if he lives ten years longer, 
 (as he ought, for he is hardly turned of sixty,) he will be 
 recognized, not only as the constructor of a beautiful build- 
 ing, but as the founder of a city. 
 
 Of course this marvellous creation, that has sprung up 
 in Florida, hke Tadmor in the wilderness, is the wonder of 
 everybody who comes here, and it is amusing to observe 
 the look of surprise of new comers, and hear their expres- 
 sions of astonishment. And yet the American feeling will 
 crop out, and after they have exhausted their admiration, 
 
50 " DOES IT PAY ? " 
 
 one is siire to bear the subdued question, "Does it pay f " 
 as if notbing great could ever be done except as a specu- 
 lation ; and tbere are many mysterious inquii'ies as to 
 what could be the motive of this lavish expenditure so far 
 away from the commercial centres of the country. There 
 is no mystery about the matter. A man who has for many 
 years made his annual visits to this portion of the South, 
 till it has become as attractive to him as it was to Ponce de 
 Leon, (when, enraptured by its perpetual bloom, he named 
 it Florida, the Land of Flowers,) takes it into his mind to 
 create a paradise of beauty somewhat in keeping with the 
 gorgeous tropical vegetation. Fond of grand architecture, 
 and having the means to gratify his taste, he conceives the 
 idea of a building unique in its structure and in its sur- 
 roundings, which shall be " a thing of beauty " and " a joy 
 forever." "Whether it will pay in the common sense, does 
 not enter into his calculations, any more than it does into 
 the mind of one who gives himself a costly library or 
 gallery of j^aintings. He does it, as an artist paints a 
 picture, for the pleasure of doing it. Is there anything 
 more natural or more reasonable than this ? It is indeed 
 something to be proud of, in this commonplace and prosaic 
 age, that there should be one man bold enough to form a 
 design, and to carry it out without flinching, which is sim- 
 ply to put into stone " a beautiful dream." 
 
 Whether it may not in the end pay even pecuniarily, is 
 a question. When St. Augustine becomes, as we believe it 
 will, the great Winter resort of the United States, and a 
 city grows uj) around these marvellous buildings, standing 
 in the midst of open squares, as a centre, it is not at aU 
 improbable that the money " sunk " so many years before, 
 may yield a full and even ample return. But whether it 
 does or not, is a matter which does not disturb their 
 builder at all. If it does not pay in money, it pays in 
 
REST AVITH OCCUPATION. 51 
 
 another and better way ; and we can assure any anxious 
 inquirer that the creator of all this luxury gets a retiUTi 
 every day in the sight of the pleasure that it gives. 
 
 The best of it all is that his beautiful creation is for the 
 pubUe good. Palaces abroad are for kings and princes. 
 This American palace is open to all — a place of rest and 
 health, as weU as of luxury and enjoyment : and he who 
 has placed it within reach of his countrymen, is a pubhc 
 benefactor. 
 
 In this dehghtful retreat I settled down for a "Winter 
 vacation. Some may think it a strange place to seek for 
 qmet, in the midst of so much gayety. But the Ponce de 
 Leon is a perfect Liberty HaU. Every man does what is 
 right in his own eyes. He can have as much of society, 
 or as little, as he pleases. As it was not for this that I 
 came, I did not seek it, though entertained by the sight 
 of what passed before my eyes. But to me the charm 
 of the place was its perfect rest, the sweet oblivion of 
 care. Not that I was idle. I cotdd not stand that. I 
 do not find rest in idleness and vacancy, but in change of 
 scene and of occupation. A portion of every day I spent 
 in writing ; but it was very different from writing in an 
 office in New York. Here my desk was at an open win- 
 dow, through which came, not only the soft and balmy 
 air, but the music of the band playing in the court below. 
 This did not disturb me, but rather gave an inspu-ation 
 to my thoughts. With such an accompaniment, I found a 
 pleasure in keeping up communication with the world. If 
 after four or five hours I felt a little weary, I started out 
 on a tramp ; or a ride through the woods, or a sail on the 
 water, made a pleasant close to the happy day. 
 
 But the place was not without its excitements, though 
 these were of such a mild character as not to be dangerous. 
 Strangers- were constantly coming and going, so that the 
 
52 OLD FRIENDS AND NEW FRIENDS. 
 
 Rotunda of the Ponce de Leon was a kind of Exchange, 
 where you met people from every city of the North, find- 
 ing old acquaintances and making new ones. Among the 
 habitues were some who had been in different parts of the 
 world, with whom an old traveller like myself could have 
 many a pleasant hour; while young men and maidens 
 strolled in the grounds in the moonlight, or took their 
 l^leasure in the ways they most delight in. 
 
 In this company, which embraced first and last a good 
 many notable people, I was most attracted to the creator 
 of all this beauty and luxury, of whom I am restrained 
 from saying all that is in my heart lest I should offend his 
 modesty, for he is one of the most unassuming of men. 
 Seldom is so much strength united with so much sweet- 
 ness. A man who can do a kindness with such delicacy 
 that he makes you feel as if you were coufemng a favor 
 ujDon him in accepting it, is a master in the fine art of 
 courtesy. Nor was it to me only. So far as I could see, 
 he was the same, though in a more general way, to every 
 one. For weeks we were constantly together, always 
 sitting at the same table, and in all that time I never saw 
 him in the least excited ; never heard him speak a work of 
 impatience to anybody or of anybody. I felt this daily 
 association to be a pleasure constantly renewed, and I 
 count it the chief satisfaction of my visit to St. Augustine, 
 that it gave me the opportunity of knowing somewhat 
 intimately one whom I am proud to call my friend. 
 
CHAPTEK V. 
 SOUTH FLORIDA JUPITER INLET. 
 
 "Tou don't know Jupiter Inlet?" Neither did I a 
 week ago : for aught I knew, it might be some newly 
 discovered point in the planet Jupiter ; but now that I do 
 know it, how can I help being Hfted up with the vanity of 
 superior knowledge, and looking down upon those who do 
 not know it, as showing ignorance of American geography ? 
 Perhaps you will think a place not worth knowing where 
 (aside from the Light-house, the Signal Station, and the 
 Life-Saving Station) there is but one house, and travellers 
 have to find lodging in an old steamboat that is moored 
 to the wharf ! But I will not raise the curtain too soon. 
 First of aU, where is it ? 
 
 If you will take a map and run your eye down the 
 Atlantic Coast, you will find its lower portion protected by 
 an almost continuous reef, broken here and there into long 
 and low-lying islands, which form a natural breakwater 
 against the ocean. Between this and the mainland is a 
 succession of lagunes, which, with trifling interruptions, 
 furnish a complete inland navigation for hundreds of miles. 
 At long distances there are openings or " Inlets " in this 
 ocean barrier, through which light boats, and in some 
 
54 NEW SETTLEMENTS IN THE PINE WOODS. 
 
 cases large ships, can pass, if they see a storm approach- 
 ing, and take refuge in these sheltered waters. One of 
 these "Inlets" far down on the coast, hears the mighty 
 name of " Jupiter." To this distant point two gentlemen 
 connected with one of the great raih'oad systems of Florida 
 — iVIr. Mason Young, a name Avell known in New York, and 
 ]Mi-. Alfred Bishop Mason, a name equally well known in 
 Chicago — were about to make a visit, and invited me to 
 keep them companj^ As the journey was partly by rail 
 and partly by boat, it gave opportunity to see both the 
 interior and the river and coast scenery. 
 
 At Palatka we crossed the St. John's, a river which, 
 contrary to what we are accustomed to consider the natural 
 coiu'se of rivers, runs north, so that, as far as we followed 
 it, we were going up stream, though down south. Travel- 
 ling in a private car, we were a little company by oiu'selves, 
 and I was happy to find that there was a lady in the party, 
 whose society gave all that was wanting to make it com- 
 plete. As the car was attached to the train at the end, 
 and had plate-glass windows on both sides and in the rear, 
 we had an unobstructed view of the country as we rolled 
 swiftly by. New settlements were sprinkled here and 
 there : sometimes houses would be standing alone in the 
 pine woods, and at others half a dozen would be clustered 
 together so as to form the nucleus of a village. In the 
 latter case there was sure to be a New England air about 
 the place, indicated in the fenced grounds and fi-amed 
 houses, neatly boarded and painted, with a pretty chiu-ch 
 and school-house in the centre — which showed where the 
 first settlers came from. This part of Florida is largely 
 settled by people from the North, and I am told, that while 
 there is no conflict between them and the poor whites 
 known as the " Crackers," yet that the latter, finding them- 
 selves unable to compete with the more industrious habits 
 
EXPERIENCE OF AN OLD ARMY OFFICER. 55 
 
 of the new comers, are generally quite willing to sell out 
 their plantations, which have been run down by long neg- 
 lect, and move off into the less settled parts of the South, 
 to begin life anew. Their successors here have tried other 
 methods of cultivation, the result of which is seen in the 
 orange groves, richly laden with the golden fruit, that 
 extend for miles along the road. 
 
 Look at this pretty village of Seville, that in spite of 
 its Spanish name, might have been transplanted from 
 Massachusetts, since we see in it, what is very rare in 
 Florida, a well-kept laicn, which shows that with proper 
 care it is possible to have the green turf of New England. 
 Here several friends joined us, and added to the gayety of 
 our little party. One gentleman, an old army officer, gave 
 me his experience of life in his new home. He had come 
 here broken in health, almost seeking a place to die ; but 
 after awhile concluded that it was better to live ; and took 
 his section, of a hundred and sixty acres, to which he was 
 entitled by his soldier's warrant, on which he planted, not 
 his "vineyard and olive-yard," like the ancient Jew in 
 Palestine, but his orange grove ; and in due time found 
 himself not only reestablished in health, but prospering in 
 his worldly affairs. Lest, however, anybody should jump 
 to the conclusion that he has but to move to Florida and 
 plant an orange grove, to be rich, it shoiild be added that 
 from the time of planting to the time of bearing will take 
 eight or ten years ; so that none need try it who have not 
 some little capital to start upon, and above all a large 
 stock of New England thrift, patience, and perseverance. 
 I could not but listen with wonder to his report of the 
 productiveness of Florida, which reminded me of the mar- 
 vellous tales that I had heard in Southern CaHfomia. At 
 first I was a little incredidous : for the country looked 
 very barren, and I thought it must be poor and unpro- 
 
56 ON THE INDIAN RIVER. 
 
 ductive. But lie explained that, -while this soil would 
 not produce much at the North, it would here, owing to 
 the greater warmth, combined with the greater moisture. 
 The elements which enter into vegetation come not from 
 the soil alone, but from the air, the vapor, and the dew, the 
 rain and the sunshine, all of w^hich are supplied from the 
 resources of nature ; so that if man wiU but help a little, 
 giving very moderate cultivation, the earth wiU bring 
 forth abundantly. 
 
 Nor is this prodigality of nature confined to the sub- 
 tropical fruits, but extends equally to aU the produce of 
 the garden (Irish potatoes growing as well as sweet pota- 
 toes), to peas and tomatoes and cauliflowers, from which 
 it seems probable that with the increased production from 
 year to year, and sufficient transportation (for already it is 
 said that the raih'oads are not able to carry the crops), 
 Florida will soon be able to supply the markets of Wash- 
 ington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, with green 
 peas and early potatoes, and all the produce of vegetable 
 gardens, a month or six wrecks before they can be obtained 
 from Charleston and Savannah. 
 
 The road that we had been following continues to 
 Tampa Bay, where it connects with a line of steamers to 
 Cuba, which will land the traveller in Havana in thirty 
 hours, or in three and a half days from New York, instead 
 of the week now taken by steamer. This will fiu-nish also 
 the quickest route to South American ports. As we how- 
 ever were bound to a point on the Atlantic coast, we left 
 the main line at Enterprise, and turned eastward, and in 
 an hour were at Titusville, where the train ran down to 
 the wharf beside the steamer, and at three o'clock we were 
 afloat on the Indian river— a name hitherto known to us 
 only by its dehcious oranges, but now to be kno^\•n by its 
 beautiful scenery. But fii'st of all, it is not a river at 
 
THE PALMS WHISPER TO THE PINES. 51 
 
 all, but simply an arm of the sea, a long lagune, which in 
 some places is three or four, or even five and six, miles 
 broad. The beauty of it is on its western bank, where the 
 low, flat country rising a few feet above the water, is digni- 
 fied with the name of a hlvff. Its apparent elevation is 
 heightened by its being densely wooded with palms ! Not 
 indeed the stately date-palms of Egypt, but only with the 
 " cabbage palm," so named fi'om its cabbage-like head, but 
 which stUl, with its tall trunk and tufted crown, forms a 
 striking figure in the landscape, giving it more of a tropical 
 character than anything I had seen before, and as I sat on 
 the deck in the gloaming, and watched the shores growing 
 dim, memory went back to the old days when I floated 
 past groves of palms on the banks of the Nile. 
 
 All along this bank there are plantations, the houses 
 peering out from under the trees, and every few miles a 
 little village, from which a projecting wharf gives facilities 
 for the conveyance of travellers and the shipment of freight. 
 The most considerable of these river-towns is Rock Ledge, 
 to which they brought President Cleveland and his wife on 
 their visit to Florida last year, to show them the beauty of 
 the country — where w^e landed and walked a mile along 
 the bank, past a succession of pretty Wiater retreats, 
 embowered in palms. 
 
 Back of the palms were the orange groves in all their 
 luxuriance : but the orange region ends soon after, oranges 
 giving place to fruits of a more tropical character. The 
 guava is cultivated for the jelly made from it, of which 
 there is a manufactory on Merritt's Island, the product of 
 which is shipped largely to Northern cities ; and at Eden, 
 a few miles farther south, is a very extensive plantation of 
 pineapples, which are grown here with entire success. 
 
 The morning found us still floating southward, which 
 soon brought us into the narrows of the Indian river, where 
 
58 THE AMPHIBIOUS MANGROVES. 
 
 for some miles it is not wider than the Housatonic at 
 Stockbridge, while the dense vegetation on either hand 
 was delightfully suggestive of the willows that bend over 
 our beautiful stream. Here the palms give place to man- 
 groves, the tree that lives in water, in swamps, and on the 
 banks of streams. This amphibious character is almost a 
 necessity, for as the country itself is so largely under water, 
 if trees could only find a foothold on dry land, there would 
 be no vegetation at all. And yet, to comiDlete the contra- 
 dictions, these trees, which live in water, have half their 
 roots above water as well as above ground, so that they 
 seem to be standing on stilts. They are like the blue 
 herons that we see in these waters, putting their long 
 skinny legs without fear into the ooze and slime of the 
 river bed, while they carry their brilliant plumage high in 
 air. I have been watching these bii'ds with admiration to 
 see how, while the flocks of ducks go " scooting " by, the 
 herons stand with quiet dignity, stepping slowly with eye 
 cast downward till they spy the looked-for fish, which is 
 snapped up in an instant, when they spread their wings 
 and soar majestically away. What the herons and the 
 cranes are among birds, the mangroves are among trees, 
 standing on long legs, that are naked as bones, and yet, 
 carrying crowns of verdui'e on their heads. As their foliage 
 is a vivid green, the two banks form a beautiful fringe to 
 the waters, so calm and still, that flow between. 
 
 The navigation through this mass of vegetation is very 
 intricate. The river has so many twists and turns, that it 
 seems as if it could only be threaded by a rowboat. The 
 mazes would be quite impenetrable for a steamer, except 
 one of the lightest draft. Our boat, the St. Lucie, draws 
 but nineteen inches of water, and is propelled by a wheel 
 at the stern. Yet even with this light buUd, she finds it 
 difficult to work her way through, and has to be handled 
 
INTRICATE NAVIGATION. 59 
 
 witli the greatest care. At sucli times tlie captain, whose 
 name of " Bravo " indicates his Spanish origin, and who 
 is very proud of his new boat (this was her second trip), 
 not trusting to any one but himself, throws off his coat, 
 that he may have free use for his strong arms, and takes 
 his place at the wheel. In some places a channel has been 
 marked by stakes just wide enough for her to squeeze 
 through. Sometimes she swings with the current, or with 
 the tide (for we are nearing the sea), and as she is 122 feet 
 long, she touches the bank on both sides, and the negroes 
 have to push her off with their poles at one end and the 
 other. Then the captain is in his element, shouting right 
 and left "All dare ihar ? " till after a tug of a few minutes 
 the boat eases uj), and swings into her place, and as she 
 moves forward, the boatmen, relieved of their strain, break 
 out in some negro melody, that makes a pleasant accom- 
 paniment to the motion of the boat as she glides gently 
 through the water. And thus at noon of the second day, 
 we reached Jupiter Inlet on the coast, nearly three hun- 
 dred miles south of St. Augustine. 
 
 Having reached this remote quarter of the world, we 
 look round to see if there be an;)i:hing worth coming for. 
 It does not look very promising. There is but one house, 
 and that I have not been into. Yet here I have spent three 
 days on an old steamboat, with about as many resotu'ces 
 as Robinson Crusoe had on his desolate island. No ! that 
 is " putting it rather strong " : for Robinson Crusoe, with 
 aU his handicraft and skill in using pieces of wreck to 
 make his island castle, never had anything so habitable as 
 the good old Chattahoochee ; and for company he had to 
 content himself with his man Friday, while here I have 
 three charming companions. Still, stranded on this Florida 
 coast, which has been strown with hundreds of wrecks, it 
 does not take much imagination to fancy oiu'selves cast 
 
60 THE CHATTAHOOCHEE. 
 
 away on a desolate island. But if the experience be new, 
 it is not unpleasant ; on the contrary, it is deHglitful now 
 and then to come into this close contact with nature, and 
 to be living for a few days like babes in the woods. 
 
 The old steamer which is our home, has itself a history. 
 Its very name tells the place of its birth, on the Chattahoo- 
 chee river, which in the times before the flood — that is, 
 before the war — was a great highway of commerce, bring- 
 ing the product of the cotton fields of Georgia and Alabama 
 to Apalachicola, then the third cotton port of the United 
 States, but which is now all overgrown with weeds, since 
 the opening of railroads has diverted its trade to other 
 commercial centres. In those days she was a famous 
 steamboat, and even still, if her fires were lighted, would 
 show her heels to many a boat that has not seen half her 
 years ; but she is now honorably retii-ed, and moored in 
 a quiet haven, and being fitted up for her present use, 
 serves as a kind of wayside, or i-ather seaside, inn, and is a 
 truly dehghtful place of rest for wanderers like ourselves. 
 
 We arrived Satvu'day noon. Hardly had we sat down 
 to dinner, before one of the party invited me to take a 
 drive with him in the afternoon to Lake Worth, and we 
 were soon mounted in a rough country wagon, drawn by 
 a pair of mtdes, with which we went jolting over the road. 
 Once out of the border of trees that skirt the water side, 
 and on what might be called the open jDrairie, our course 
 was straight as an arrow, for it was along the track of a 
 railroad which has just been laid out, and is only waiting 
 for the rails, so that we had not to turn to the right or 
 left, but only to " plough ahead " through the deep sand. 
 "And what does this ride across country remind you of ? " 
 " Why, of dear old Nantucket." Sure enough, it was the 
 ride to Sconset over again. The rough plain was like a 
 Scottish moor, bleak and bare, though instead of the gorse 
 
LAKE WORTH. 61 
 
 and heather, it was covered with the coarse pahnetto grass, 
 which, though now mere useless stubble, is said to furnish 
 the finest possible material for paper, if it were within 
 reach of a port, fi-om which it could be shipped to the 
 Northern markets. The country was not so dismally flat 
 as much of that we had passed over, but shghtly roUing. 
 These swells of ground are really sand-dunes cast up by 
 the waves, and rising over them one after another, we came 
 at last in full view of the ocean. 
 
 A mUe or two farther brought us to Late Worih, or 
 rather to one end of it — the smaller of the twin lakes — 
 which in New England we should caU a pond. It is a 
 lonely spot, on which stands a sohtary house, with the 
 master of which 'Mx. Young had some business, and whose 
 name, to my surprise, was the same as my own. While 
 they were engaged in conversation, I turned to the young 
 wife and learned that her husband was the son of my old 
 fi'iend Richard Field, of Bound Brook, New Jersey, who 
 more than forty years ago was a trustee of the church in 
 St. Louis of which I was the youthful pastor. The husband 
 added, on learning my name, that I had baptized him ! 
 This was indeed finding a lost sheep in the wilderness. I 
 could but hope that the grace communicated in baptism, 
 whatever that might be, had not wholly departed from him. 
 
 The place is quite out of the world, but it wiU not 
 always be so, for it Hes in the pathway of progress. If it 
 had not been Saturday afternoon, and we could have con- 
 tinued our excursion a little farther, we should have seen 
 more of its possibilities ; for, taking a boat and rounding 
 yonder point, we should have come into the larger part of 
 Lake Worth, where is the promise of one of the most 
 beautiful Winter resorts in Florida. On a ridge of land 
 between the lake and the ocean, are akeady several gentle- 
 men's places, with extensive grounds laid out as if by a 
 
62 CARRYIxVG THE MAIL OX FOOT. 
 
 landscape gardener. The air is deliciously soft because of 
 the nearness of the Giilf Stream, which, coming up from 
 the Gulf of Mexico, is here so wedged in between the main 
 land and the Bahamas (only eighty miles distant) that it 
 almost touches the coast. The vegetation of the country 
 also takes another step, for these plantations are not of 
 oranges, nor pineapj)les, nor bananas, but cocoanut palms, 
 which shows that we are advancing towards the tropics. 
 Indeed, it is only by taking such a stretch through the 
 interior and along the coast of Florida, that we realize 
 how many degrees of latitude are traversed by this mighty 
 Peninsula, in which we j)ass fi'om one climate to another. 
 
 On how grand a scale is everything here, we may see 
 by another measurement of distances. Not only is the 
 State immense in territory, but it has counties that are 
 larger than some of our Northern States. For example, 
 the county in which we now are, begins far up on the 
 Indian river, and yet the count^'^-seat is sixty miles (a 
 whole degree of latitude) to the south of us, to reach which 
 one must pass through a country so destitute of inhabitants 
 that the mail has to be carried on foot ! There is not a 
 wagon road, nor even a mule path ! The carrier has to 
 tramp the whole distance, taking two days for the journey 
 there, and two days for the return. Sometimes (as a resi- 
 dent informed me) he carries one letter, and sometimes his 
 mail-pouch is empty ! But it has to go ! 
 
 This lonely journey, as might be sujiposed, is attended 
 with a good deal of difficulty, and with some danger. 
 There are rivers to be crossed, for which a boat must be 
 always ready. Last year a postman came to the bank, and 
 found that some tramp had taken his skiff and rowed him- 
 self to the other side, and left it there. Full of patriotic 
 zeal to do his duty, the faithful messenger, 
 
 "Accoutred as he was, plunged in " ; 
 
"LIMITATIONS OF RESPONSIBILITY." 63 
 
 but "before he could reach the other side, a man-eating 
 shark had seized him, and with no respect for a govern- 
 ment officer, made a meal of him ! I hope it was a 
 consolation to him that he died in the performance of his 
 duty. His country could ask no more. Some years since 
 President Wayland published a book on " The Limitations 
 of Responsibility." It is a nice question in many cases 
 where responsibility ends ; but I think the most severe 
 moralist would agree that a man who had been eaten up 
 by a shark, could not be expected to appear at roll-call the 
 next morning 1 
 
 But these dangers will not always attend this service, 
 since this state of isolation wiU not continue, for it is pro- 
 posed to bring the local government sixty miles nearer by 
 transferring the county-seat to the north side of Lake 
 Worth, indeed planting it on the farm-land of my name- 
 sake, -who offers to give the ground for the court-house. If 
 he shoidd also give a site for a religious purpose, and in 
 time there should spring up a little church in the wilder- 
 ness, I sho\ild think that the water of baptism which I had 
 poured upon his childish head, had not been sprinkled in 
 vain. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when we turned homeward. 
 By this time the air had changed. In coming over, it was 
 so warm (though it was the 2d of February) that I had to 
 raise my umbrella to protect me from the sun, and should 
 have been glad of a straw hat. But now it was the cool 
 of the day, and we drew our overcoats about us. Yet the 
 ride was more beautiful than before, for as the twilight feU 
 on the landscape, its bareness was softened, and as it were 
 clothed with a mantle, by the gathering shades of evening, 
 and we saw before us only the dim outline of a wide sweep 
 of country rolling like the sea, as if it were keeping 
 measure with " Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste," 
 
64 A SABBATH ON THE STILL WATERS. 
 
 wliile the silence was broken only by the dashing of the 
 waves. On our left a new moon hung its crescent in the 
 sky, and above it shone the evening star. One by one the 
 stars came out, tiU the firmament was all aglow with the 
 celestial fires. I was a Httle confused not to find the con- 
 stellations in their accustomed places. The change of 
 fourteen degrees of latitude, from New York to Jupiter 
 Inlet, had upset things, and it was not till I was on the 
 deck of the steamer that I could take my bearings. I 
 found the Dipper, though with the handle turned down- 
 ward, but the last two stars still pointed faithfully to the 
 north. It was a relief to find that " all things continued 
 as they were from the beginning," and that suns and 
 systems still revolved around " the steady pole." 
 
 As I woke the next morning, I missed the dear faces 
 and the dear voices that make a part of the Sabbath at 
 home ; but it was not all silent and vacancy. There were 
 friends who made a little home circle even so far away ; 
 and there was another presence, as on the gentle air of 
 morning came the Angel of Peace. It is not necessary 
 that the Sabbath should be ushered in by the ringing of 
 bells : it can come to us in the solitary place where no 
 man is. Some of the sweetest that I have ever known, 
 have been in almost absolute solitude. Years ago I spent 
 a Sabbath in the "Wilderness, on the way to Mount 
 Sinai, when we camped where Moses camped, in the Wady 
 Feiran, a deep valley suiTounded by mountains ; and at 
 sunset climbed the very peak on which he prayed while 
 Israel fought with Amalek, and Aaron and Hur held up 
 his hands till the going down of the sun. Here we are 
 not among rocks and mountains, but amid woods and 
 waters ; but here, as there, is the same stillness and rest, 
 the same absence of all intrusion fi'om the world, and the 
 same sense of being brought nearer to God. 
 
THE SIGNAL STATION. 65 
 
 Across the water, hardly a stone's throw from us, stood 
 the Lighthouse and the Signal Station, and they had such 
 a solitary look, and the keepers must lead such a lonely 
 life, that it seemed the part of humanity to go over and 
 give them a little of our company. Accordingly towards 
 evening the Captain of the Chattahoochee rowed me 
 across. At the Signal Station I found a young man who 
 had received his training at Washington, and was then 
 assigned to this post of observation. Twice a day — at 
 eight in the morning and eight in the evening — he climbs 
 liis signal-tower, and takes the figures recorded by the 
 barometer and other instruments, showing the pressure of 
 the atmosphere, and the direction and velocity of the wind, 
 and transmits them to the Signal Bureau at Washington, 
 where, from these and the like observations made on 
 Mount Washington and Pike's Peak, and at fifty, or per- 
 haps a hundi'ed, other stations reaching from the Atlantic 
 to the Pacific, and from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, is 
 made up the general report of the weather throughout the 
 country, with the probabilities of coming storms, which 
 are given to the pubHc the next morning. The work is 
 very interesting in a scientific point of view, and yet it is a 
 hard life as well as a solitary one. It is one in which there 
 is no let-up : for as day and night. Summer and Winter, 
 do not cease, so the observations must not be intermitted 
 for a single day. In the blackest night, or the most terrific 
 storm of thunder and lightning, the observer must climb 
 his watch-tower, and take the record of the storms and the 
 gales. And what a lonely existence ! To be sure, he has 
 an assistant, a man Friday ; but even two must find this 
 Robinson Crusoe life very wearisome. The only reflection 
 that can make one endure it, is the military one : that he is 
 a soldier on duty, a sentinel keeping watch over the public 
 safety ; and that a brdve man must not desert his post. 
 
66 THE LIGHTHOUSE. 
 
 From the Signal Station I turned to tlie taller tower 
 near by, and climbed the iron stairway that winds round 
 and round to the top of the Lighthouse. Here is another 
 post of duty that must be trying to the nerves. The tower 
 is, I think, a hundred and forty feet high, and though 
 solidly built, with massive walls, yet at that height, when 
 the wind howls, even this mighty column must seem to 
 rock. It must be a fearful place when the tempest is 
 abroad. But no matter what the danger may be, that light 
 must never go out. It is at such times that it is most 
 needed, for it is when the Atlantic gales are sweeping in 
 all their fury, and ships are strugghng in fear of wreck on 
 the dangerous coast, that the mariner watches most eagerly 
 for this light, on which his safety may depend. 
 
 My sympathies had been so much enlisted for the men 
 leading this lonely life, that it was a relief to hear that the 
 keeper of the Lighthouse, who had been here some twenty 
 years, was proud of his profession, and so far from regard- 
 ing himself as an object of pity, was in love with his calling. 
 He has indeed (besides his two assistants) his family 
 with him, and that makes all the difference in the world. 
 It was very j)leasant as we came down to the boat to meet 
 a motherly face leading a flock of children. It is true 
 these did not happen to be his children : but so much the 
 better, for it showed that there were other children also in 
 the woods about here ; and children, even more than the 
 old folks, give a look of home to the solitude. On the bank 
 of the river behold a little thatch - covered schoolhouse, 
 nestled at the foot of a cocoanut palm, which leaned over 
 it as if to give it protection ! But protection sometimes 
 involves danger, for if one of those cocoanuts that hang so 
 high, should fall upon the head of one of the children, it is 
 altogether probable that 
 " The subsequent proceedings would interest him no more." 
 
SUNSET— PRAIRTES ON FIRE. 61 
 
 So real is the danger that last year an athletic young 
 fellow cHmbed to the top of the tree and cut off every 
 cocoanut, lest a premature or unexpected descent upon 
 some tender brain not yet sufficiently " armored," should 
 interfere sadly with the cause of education at Jupiter Inlet. 
 Returning to the Chattahoochee, I found aU on deck, 
 watching the sunset. The day had been perfect. Light, 
 fleecy clouds had softly veiled the deep blue of the sky, 
 and now they lay along the west, receiving and reflecting 
 the last rays of the sun, which, as the country is low and 
 flat, swept all round the horizon. Slowly the light faded 
 out, but only to be followed by another illumination, for in 
 the distance were the prairies on fire ! This is done by the 
 cattle owners, who every year burn them over, so that out 
 of the stubble may spring a fi-esh, succulent growth for 
 the food of their flocks and herds. The practice provokes 
 much opposition, and may yet be done away with. But 
 for those who are mere spectators, it is a brilliant spectacle. 
 At last, however, in spite of fire and sunset, and the kindling 
 stars, the night covered the earth, and then it was that we 
 perceived the full power of the great reflector in the Light- 
 house that towered above us. It is a revolving light, that 
 is, one that is constantly turning, now growing fainter and 
 fainter till it is almost extinguished, and then suddenly 
 blazing out with such intensity that it is seen twenty miles 
 at sea. At such moments it is like the full moon coming 
 out of a cloud, its long trail of light quivering on the water. 
 There was something fascinating and yet stax-tling in these 
 sudden transitions from light to dark, and dark to light, 
 and as I looked up at that great orb as it biu-st upon us in 
 its fullest splendor, it seemed as if it were the awful eye of 
 God, looking down from the height of heaven upon the 
 darkness of this world, and discovering aU the crimes and 
 wickedness of men. 
 
68 SPORTSMEN AND FISHERMEN. 
 
 Life is full of surprises, bitter and sweet. Our experi- 
 ence here has been of the latter kind. I feared that our 
 " boat-house " might be very dull (qviiet, to be sure, but 
 rather too much of a good thing), and was ready to cry out 
 
 ** Solitude, where are the charms 
 That sages have seen in thy face ? " 
 
 But, in truth, it is not so very solitary. If there be not 
 much life upon the land, there is upon the water. The 
 Inlet is a great resort of sportsmen and fishermen : for 
 there is abundance of game in the woods, and of fish in 
 the sea. Yachts from the North put in here for a few days' 
 sport, and naphtha launches skim the water like birds. 
 As I sit on the deck, I see here and there a rowboat put- 
 ting off from under the mangroves that line the river, the 
 oars in the hands of some old sea-dog, while a landsman 
 sits in the bow, with his gun across his knees, as they 
 approach softly a flock of ducks that are floating on the 
 water. Every few minutes I hear the crack of the rifle. 
 The spoils of the sea are still greater. The fish caught 
 daily are counted by the hundred. It seemed like a waste 
 of the bounties of Providence, that the greater part of 
 them shotdd be thrown away for want of any man to eat 
 them. What a pity when there are so many liungiy 
 mouths in the world ! Here are some lovely monsters of 
 the deep — a saw-fish (not a sword-fish), a veritable "Jack 
 the Hipper," with a projecting saw three feet long, set with 
 teeth like spikes, with which to cut and tear on every side ; 
 and a shark that is only a baby, four or five feet long, but 
 as he is hauled up on the dock, and tvu-ned over on his 
 back, and the little darkies j^ry his mouth open, they stai*t 
 back at seeing haK a dozen rows of teeth that would make 
 mince-meat of one of the aforesaid pickaninnies, if the 
 scene of operations were transferi'ed from the land to the 
 water. 
 
ALONG THE SEASHORE. 69 
 
 Monday morning gave promise of another perfect day, 
 and as on Satiirday we had taken a ride inland, it was 
 proposed that now we should take a walk by the sea. 
 Along the Inlet, as along the bank of the river at Rock 
 Ledge, the palm trees make a pleasant shade. In this 
 thicket or jungle I did not find, as indeed I have not found 
 anywhere in this country, trees of great size, that show in 
 their prodigious girth and altitude centuries of growth — 
 nothing to compare in majesty with the oaks of Old Eng- 
 land, or the elms of New England. 
 
 In the interior, in the swamps and lowlands, the live 
 oaks and cypresses hung with moss, true gray-beards of 
 the forest, give a funereal aspect to the vast, interminable 
 wastes, which remind one of 
 
 . . . " The forest primeval, 
 The murmuring pines and the hemlocks," 
 
 of Longfellow's poem, but in general there is a depressing 
 monotony. One exception, however, we found this morn- 
 ing in a tree that has a strange name, gumbo-limbo, and 
 whose appearance is as grotesque as its name, which 
 indeed had something almost human in its aspect, as its 
 exposed roots and arms were like the naked limbs of 
 savages bronzed by exposure to the elements. It was so 
 gnarled and twisted, that it seemed to writhe in pain, as if 
 it were a living creature that had committed some fearful 
 crime, whose hands were stained with blood — a deed which 
 it was to expiate by centui'ies of torture. 
 
 But here is something which has puzzled the learned 
 more than any vegetable growth — a shell mound, composed 
 wholly of oyster shells, and yet it must be of a great age, 
 as it is covered thick with eai-th, and overgrown with vege- 
 tation. It is so large and so regular, rising on the shore 
 of the Inlet, like the earthwork of some ancient forti- 
 fication, that it must have been the work of men's hands. 
 
•70 THE OYSTER MOUNDS. 
 
 But whose hands ? Civilized or barbarian ? And how 
 many ages have passed away since they were piled upon 
 this shore ? These are questions more easily asked than 
 answered. Commodore Douglas of the Yacht Club, who has 
 visited Florida for many years, and devoted much of his 
 time to the opening of these mounds, is of the opinion that 
 they are the remains of Indian feasts. The records of the 
 early Spanish explorers tell us that on its discovery Florida 
 had a dense population. The natives lived in the interior, 
 on plantations which ai'e now grown up with pine woods, 
 but once in the year, alt;er they had planted their fields — 
 between the planting and the reaping — they migrated to 
 the seashore for the food which the sea afforded in abun- 
 dance. Here they pitched their wigwams and fished in the 
 sea, and dug oysters out of their beds, and gathering on 
 the shore, had their pow-wows and barbecues, the remains 
 of which are now disinterred to be the wonder and the 
 riddle of modern explorers. It is an ingenious theory, and 
 yet I am a httle staggered by the extent of these mounds, 
 as fifty miles below St. Augustine, at Ormond, there is a 
 mound eight miles long! Truly there must have been 
 Indians in those days. The woods must have been full of 
 them. If these are the remains of Indian feasts, I have a 
 horrible suspicion that they were scenes of cannibalism, or 
 were attended with human sacrifices ! Aud perhaps some 
 old savage chief, who dehghted in blood, has been punish- 
 ed for his cruelty by being turned into that gumbo-limbo 
 tree, where he now Avrithes in pain, like Laocoon and his 
 sons, wrapped in the coils of the python, to be crashed in 
 its mighty folds. 
 
 Thus observing and philosophizing by the way as we 
 strolled along the shore, we came to the mouth of the Inlet 
 through which the tides ebb and flow, making it a part of 
 the sea, where we stretch ourselves like so many children. 
 
THE SANDS AND THE SHELLS. 71 
 
 Is there a more delicious sensation than that of lying down 
 on the soft warm sand on the shore of the sea ? How clean 
 it is, washed by a thousand waves ! I do not wonder that 
 the ancient Fathers of the Chiu'ch allowed the use of sand 
 in baptism where, as on the desert, water could not be 
 obtained, for there is no more perfect emblem of purity. 
 And how soft it is, yielding under us like a bed of down, 
 while the waves come rohing in, not roughly and angrily, 
 but softly, gently rippling up the beach. And the air ! 
 was there ever anything so pure inhaled by human lungs? 
 There seems a w^aste in nature, that the water and the air 
 that might revive so many, are thus spent in vain. If they 
 could only be earned into our cities, into the tenement 
 houses, where tens of thousands swelter in the Summer 
 heat, and gasp for a breath of air, how many poor suffer- 
 ing creatures might be brought back to life. As I lie here, 
 looking up into the light clouds sailing by in this heavenly 
 atmosphere, I feel like repeating the prayer of the old 
 prophet : " Come from the four winds, O breath, and 
 breathe upon these slain [the sick and the dying] that 
 they may live " ! 
 
 The sea shore is a grand school for the study of natural 
 history. The beach is strown with shells, miracles of 
 beauty of color and exquisite in design. Here is the little 
 nautilus with its tiny sail. How fragile it seems ! as if a 
 breath of air, or the toss of a wave, would dash it to atoms. 
 And yet He without whom not a sparrow falls to the 
 ground, guides its little bark over the troubled sea. The 
 shells scattered on this beach, in the hand of a master 
 like Agassiz, would fiu'nish a powerful argniment for that 
 Creative Mind which he saw behind all the forms of nature, 
 a beautiful illustration of the wisdom and goodness of God. 
 
 As it is a bright morning and the sea is smooth, pass- 
 ing ships come in quite near to the land. Yonder is a 
 
12 THE PIRATES OF THE GULF. 
 
 great steamer bound to Havana. OiT the Inlet the Gulf 
 Stream does not come so close to the coast as at Lake 
 Worth, and South-bound ships pass inside of it, so as not 
 to have to breast the mighty current which flows north at 
 the rate of three miles an hour, while shii:)s bound in the 
 opposite direction, strike out boldly into the middle of the 
 Stream, so as to be swept along all the more swiftly by it. 
 We are now in the track of a great commerce, to aU the 
 shores of the Gulf, and to the northern and western coast 
 of South America. Through the narrow passage between 
 the mainland and the Bahamas, the Spanish gaUeons once 
 carried the gold and silver of Mexico and Peru, and here 
 the Buccaneers lay in wait for them. There is no part of 
 the American coast more full of legends of wild adventure, 
 or that has witnessed more scenes of battle and of blood- 
 
 Nor did the adventures end with the Spaniards and the 
 Buccaneers. The peculiar formation of the coast of Flori- 
 da, and of all of the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico, 
 studded with innumerable islands, aflforded secret passages 
 for those embarked in unlawful enterprises, and so became 
 the hiding-places of pirates, who were for a time the terror 
 of the Western Continent, as the Barbary pirates were of 
 the Mediterranean. From this concealment the famous 
 Capt. Kidd made his raids upon the commerce of his day, 
 
 Till his career was ended 
 
 By his being suspended. 
 
 But he did not mean that the world should forget him, for 
 by burying his treasure in the sand, he kept ciu'iosity 
 alive, and set treastu'e-hunters to digging to the present 
 day. 
 
 The execution of a few such bold leaders as Kidd was 
 of course a great damper to " the business," yet as late as 
 the beginning of the present century, the pirates of the 
 Gulf were still a terror to all who sailed along the South- 
 
WRECKS AND WRECKERS. 73 
 
 em coast ; one of the sad tales of which -was that the only 
 daughter of Aaron Burr, returning fiom Charleston, was 
 taken by pirates, and made to walk the plank ! Still later, 
 a remnant of them had their lair at the Belize near the 
 mouth of the .Mississippi, to watch for ships coming to 
 New Orleans. But all these nests of piracy were finally 
 broken up as the country became more thickly settled. 
 The " good old times " were gone, and with thesa 
 
 . . . " the good old plan 
 That he should take who had the power, 
 And he should keep who can." 
 
 Pursued in their hiding-places, and cut to pieces, the last 
 of them finally surrendered and made their peace with the 
 Government, by taking service with Gen. Jackson, and 
 fighting bravely at the battle of New Orleans. Since then, 
 we have heard no more of the pirates of the Gulf. 
 
 But all dangers of the coast are not over. The sea is 
 not always so smooth as it is this morning. Storms come 
 out of the Gulf of Mexico, as well as the Stream which 
 bears its name, and sometimes sweep along the coast with 
 tremendous power. Now and then the Weather Bureau 
 at "Washington gives warning of the approach of a cyclone, 
 that is coming up from the South, which may not expend 
 itself till it has cast up wrecks all along the seaboard to 
 Maine. Its first destruction is felt on the coast of Florida, 
 where along the border of the Gulf Stream there are eddies 
 and currents that drive a ship, that has become helpless in 
 the fury of a gale, upon the rocks and reefs. Hence this 
 coast has had a bad reputation for the number of its ship- 
 wrecks, and out of this has grown another ugly business : 
 that of " wreckers " — a rough set of men, who lived along 
 the shores, keeping a lookout for ships that might be 
 caught in gales and storms. It is to be feared that they 
 were not always so full of sympathy as they might have 
 
14 THE LIFE-SAVING STATION. 
 
 been for the sufferings of their fellow-creatures ; for it is 
 said that they even set decoy lights to mislead seamen in 
 dark nights, and draw them on to destruction. No sooner 
 did they see a ship in the breakers going to pieces, than 
 they pounced on the helpless crew as vultures sweep down 
 upon a camel that has fallen on the desert. 
 
 There was a time when this " business " was lively and 
 floui'ishing, but the " profits " are not what they were. Do 
 you see that little building on a point that overlooks the 
 sea? That is the Life-saving Station, manned by trusty 
 seamen, who keep watch for any accident, great or small. 
 Only yesterday, as some of our party were walking on the 
 seashore, they observed a yacht trying to enter the Inlet. 
 There was no heavy sea, but as the passage is narrow, she 
 fell off to one side, and was soon fast in the sand. There 
 was no danger so long as the sea was smooth, but a strong 
 wind might soon put her in peril. But hardly had the 
 accident occurred before half a dozen stalwart seamen 
 came at full speed from the Station, and lending their 
 stout arms to those of the men on board, soon got her off 
 into deep water again. 
 
 But this was a trifling incident compared with some 
 which they have to face, when great ships are utterly 
 wrecked. To meet this appalling danger, the Stations are 
 fui-nished with life-boats and every appliance for extend- 
 ing immediate relief to those in the utmost peril. If a 
 ship gets on the rocks half a mile at sea, and the waves 
 are running so high that no boat can reach her, there is 
 another resource. In a corner of the Station stands a 
 short but big-throated howitzer, like a huge St. Bernard 
 dog on the top of the Alj^s, waiting for the moment of 
 greatest peril, when the storm is wildest and the snows 
 are deepest, to show what he can do. Into its capacious 
 mouth the seamen thrust a ball, to which is attached a 
 
SMUGGLING FROM CUBA. 15 
 
 long line, and then the giin is pointed high in air and 
 fired, the ball streaming away like a rocket ; and as it falls 
 into the sea, it drops its line across the deck of the foun- 
 dering bark, by which those on board can pull in a heavier 
 roj)e and make it fast, and then lashing themselves to it 
 one by one, can all at last escape safe to land ! 
 
 Of course the old vsreckers look very sullenly at this 
 interference of the Government with their "legitimate 
 business." What with lighthouses that are seen twenty 
 miles at sea, and Hfe-saving stations aU along the coast, 
 there does not seem to be much chance for them to pick 
 up a living in the old way. All that is left for them is to 
 do a little smuggling. Cuba is conveniently near to the 
 Florida Coast, and it is easy to fiU a boat with a cargo of 
 Havana cigars, and running in among the " Keys " (as the 
 little islands on the coast are called), secrete their treasure 
 in some hidden nook. But here again they are pursued 
 by evil fortune. Hardly have they got on shore, and are 
 sitting round their camp-fire, when the " myrmidons of the 
 law " swoop down upon them, and " gobble up " the cigars, 
 and "hale" the daring boatmen to prison. These things 
 are trying to the greatest courage and endiu'ance, and we 
 can hardly wonder that they sometimes ask the question, 
 which is asked by tramps and idlers and thieves all over 
 the world, "How is a fellow going to live?" That we 
 leave them to settle among themselves. We feel the same 
 sort of sympathy for them that we do for so many old 
 wharf-rats that have been bvuTowing under and into a 
 staunch ship, and that are suddenly routed out ; and as 
 we see them flying in all directions, we turn with renewed 
 satisfaction to the lighthouses along the coast that have 
 let in daylight upon them, and to the vigilant men who 
 have broken up these old haunts of crime, and say, Blessed 
 be civilization ! 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NEW ENGLAND IN THE SOUTH THE OLD HOME AND 
 
 THE NEW HOxME. 
 
 Florida is not a part of the country in which we should 
 look for New England ers, any more than for Southerners 
 in the forests of Maine. But the irrepressible Yankee is 
 everywhere, from the Tropics to the Pole. The war sent 
 the men of Massachusetts and other New England States, 
 to the South by tens of thousands, and many found it a 
 goodly land to stay in when the war was over. Of those 
 who marched with their comrades to the North, where the 
 troops were disbanded, some made their way back again, 
 finding the fertile lands and mild cHmate of the South 
 more attractive than the rocks and snows of New Eng- 
 land. But they did not come in great numbers, nor in 
 armed battalions, but at most in small " squads." The 
 greater part indeed came singly. Here and there an 
 old officer, broken in health by his hard camjDaigns, had 
 come to Florida to die ; but after the experience of a few 
 months, concluded to postpone his departure, and still 
 abides in the land, enjoying health and prosperity. More 
 often those who had served in the camp as common sol- 
 diers, leaving behind them their knapsacks and their guns, 
 
GATHERING OF THE CLANS. 11 
 
 and with nothing in the world but their strong arms, 
 sought out lonely places in the wilderness where land was 
 cheap, and with their axes made clearings in the forest, 
 and there built them cabins and planted a few acres. Thus 
 coming one by one, in the course of a few years there came 
 to be " quite a sprinkUng " of New Englanders through 
 the pine woods of the South ; and as they were a hardy 
 tribe, in whom industry and economy took the place of the 
 old shiftlessness, they began to thriye in the land. 
 
 Now the Yankees are a clannish race, and when a few 
 of them find themselves within reaching distance, they 
 flock together, using any public occasion — an Agricultural 
 Fair or a Sub-tropical Exposition — to gather round some 
 board, where, as at the cherished Thanksgivings, old mem- 
 ories are revived and old customs recalled. The day which 
 New Englanders have a right to consider as peculiarly 
 their own, is the 22d of December — the day on which the 
 Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. But such a cele- 
 bration is a Movable Feast, the particular day for which 
 may be made to suit the convenience of the celebrators. 
 In Florida the New Englanders who have been North dur- 
 ing the Summer and Winter, often return late, and are not 
 all back even in December ; so that it was thought better 
 to fix a later day, and for this year they chose the 22 d of 
 February, not thinking it a misappropriation of the birth- 
 day of the Father of his Country, to devote it to remem- 
 bering the Pilgrim Fathers. 
 
 Accordingly on that day there was a gathering of the 
 clans at Jacksonville — a notable company of typical New 
 Englanders, sturdy in frame, and carrying big heads on 
 their broad shoulders — who had come from all parts of 
 Florida to do honor to their common mother. Of course, 
 as is usual on such occasions, there had to be a good deal 
 of talking, in which many took part, I among the rest. 
 
1$ A NOTABLE CELEBRATION. 
 
 Though what I said was of no great importance, it seemed 
 to please " the boys." That was not difficult : for when a 
 company are in a mood to be pleased, it is easy to please 
 them. As we were all " of the family," it Avas natui'al that 
 they should resj)ond to allusions to the Old Home. There 
 was another tender chord, in the experience of Jackson- 
 ville the previous Summer, which responded to whatever 
 recalled that terrible calamity. For the sake of the kindly 
 associations of the hour, and in the hope that it may touch 
 a chord in the hearts of other " old boys," I reprint a part 
 of what I said to those at Jacksonville : for I am sure that 
 the sons of New England, wherever they may be, in what- 
 ever new homes they have found in the South or West, 
 will always welcome that which reminds them of the dear 
 old hills and valleys among which they were born. And 
 after this manner I spake : 
 
 This is a gathering of the sons of New England, who, 
 though they have removed far away from it, yet do not 
 forget the place of their birth, and come together once a 
 year to revive the recollections of the Old Home. We are 
 met to keep an old-fashioned Thanksgiving, and now that 
 we have partaken of the feast, we may imagine ourselves 
 gathered round one of those huge fii-ej^laces that some of 
 us remember ; piled high with hickory logs, and as the 
 flames roar up the chimney, and the firelight shines in the 
 familiar faces, we talk of old times and old fifiends, the 
 living and the dead. 
 
 It is not that New England is better than any other 
 place on the face of the earth (though about that we have 
 our private opinion), but she is Our Mother : she rocked 
 tis in our cradles ; she formed in us the principles and the 
 habits to which we owe whatever of success we have had 
 in life ; and we should be unworthy of her, if we did not 
 remember her with fiUal affection, reverence, and honor. 
 
NEW ENGLAND IN WINTER AND SPRING. 79 
 
 The country itself is not attractive, at least not at this 
 season of the year, in the depth of Winter. If we could 
 transport ourselves there to-night, vyhat should we see? 
 Not the orange groves of Florida, but only naked trees, 
 with branches aU stripped and bare, while hills and valleys 
 are buried in snow. And yet a New England "Winter is 
 not without its attractions. Even in the storm-blast there 
 is something which rouses the manhood in our breasts, 
 and causes the blood to course quicker in our veins. "Who 
 of us cannot say with Burns : 
 
 '* E'en Winter bleak has charms to me, 
 When winds rave through the naked tree, 
 And frosts on hills of Ochiltree 
 
 Are hoary gray ; 
 Or blinding drifts wild furious flee 
 Darkening the day." 
 
 The pleasures of "Winter are not to be despised. How I 
 wish I could hear at this moment the jingle of the sleigh- 
 bells, and the merry laugh and song of the boys and girls 
 as they ride home in the moonlight ! 
 
 But it is in the Spring-time that New England puts on 
 her robe of beauty : when, after the long sleep of "Winter, 
 the life of nature returns, as our little Mends the robins 
 come back ; the tender grass begins to appear, and the 
 trees put forth their leaves ; the apple blossoms fill the air 
 with fragrance ; and the verdure fi-om the meadows along 
 the river's banks creeps up the hillsides, till the foliage of 
 the oaks and the birches and the chestnuts, mingled with 
 the evergreen of the pines and the hemlocks, makes the 
 full glory of the forest, and the mountains shake like 
 Lebanon, 
 
 In these green vaUeys and under the shadow of these 
 mountains, have spruiig up villages of a peculiar type — 
 not centering in some lordly pile, as an English village 
 
80 A NEW ENGLAND VILLAGE. 
 
 gathers round a nobleman's castle — -with no great man- 
 sions, but a general air of comfort and modest beauty. 
 If I were to take one village as a sample of many, it would 
 be the one I know best, that in which I was bom, in West- 
 ern Massachusetts, in the Berkshire Hills — Stockbridge — 
 a village not laid out in the English style, nor the French 
 stjie, nor in any other " style," except the good old-fash- 
 ioned New England style ; having one broad street lined 
 with elms, whose giant branches, reaching high in air and 
 drooping towards each other, form an arch like that of a 
 cathedral, which, when lighted up by the setting sun, is 
 more glorious than the nave of Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Along this street, under these elms, are scattered homes, 
 not pretentious in any way, but each with its smooth-shaven 
 lawn, its grass and its flowers without, and its books and 
 pictures within, which show it to be the home of taste and 
 refinement. 
 
 If there were time to dwell on these home pictures, I 
 might take you over the town, to the farm-houses, with 
 capacious barns, and other signs of abundance, in front of 
 which the spacious foreground is overhung by trees, and 
 graced by 
 
 "The moss-covered bucket that hangs in the well." 
 
 Next to the homes of the New England village are its 
 institutions, around which its life gathers. Of these there 
 are two, the church and the school. You see the little 
 schoolhouse at the foot of the hill, or it may be under the 
 shade of an elm : how modest it looks ! But in many a 
 New England village that was the only "institution of 
 learning." Yet out of that humble door have gone the 
 men that have led your armies, that have fought your 
 battles and ruled your Government. The schoolhouses 
 of New England have made its people the equal in intel- 
 ligence of any other on the face of the globe. 
 
THE OLD MEETING-HOUSE. 81 
 
 Yet the schoolhouse would not have amounted to so 
 much, if it had not been for the motherly old " Meeting- 
 house," that stood on the village green, which was the edu- 
 cator of the people in moral and religious truth, as the 
 school taught them the rudiments of knowledge, "What 
 an awe fell upon my childish heart as I looked up at the 
 steeple from which the bell called us to the place of prayer ! 
 As a boy I often wandered about the old graveyard, where 
 
 " The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep " ; 
 
 and if at that moment the old sexton struck the bell for 
 some approaching funeral, that solemn toll struck upon 
 my heart as if it were a warning sound from eternity 
 itself. 
 
 Within the old meeting-house our associations are of a 
 mingled character : grave and solemn, with observations 
 of manners and customs that were quaint and curious, 
 some of which may even provoke a smile. The lugh pulpit' 
 was at one end of the church, and the gallery at the other, 
 in which the choir stood facing the minister, as if deter- 
 mined to keep up theii" end of the house, and do their full 
 pai-t in public worship. In those days we did not have a 
 fashionable quartette, but pure home talent, in which the 
 " spruce " young men of the village showed themselves 
 beside the comely maidens. In our village church, in the 
 centre of the choir stood a man six feet high (I say six ; it 
 might have been seven or eight — to my childish imagina- 
 tion he seemed to be ten or twelve), whose " front view " 
 was made still more striking by a tremendous nose. As 
 he rose in his full proportions, he lifted up with him a bass 
 viol as big as himself, out of which he ground unearthly 
 music. The sight was so awe-inspiring, that I had to turn 
 aside my eyes to rest them on the gentle PrisciUas at his 
 side. The Lord will forgive me in the circumstances. In 
 
82 IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD. 
 
 truth, I did not look ujDon tliose faces as I might if I had 
 seen them on the street, lighted up with smiles. I regard- 
 ed them only with what President Edwards calls " the love 
 of complacency," which he approves and commends as " a 
 very sweet affection " (he is certainly right in that), and 
 also very pure and holy, if it he not indeed the essence of 
 all virtue ! 
 
 But if anybody imagines that the Sabbath worship was 
 merely an occasion for mutual observation, he is greatly 
 mistaken ; the old meeting-house was truly a solemn place, 
 as the house of God ought to be : where all tbat was evil 
 in us was rebuked, and all that was best was awakened to 
 a new life ; where heads were bent low, and tears fell fi'om 
 weeping eyes ; and as we mourned over all that was wrong 
 in the past, we resolved to live better in the future, and 
 our solemn vows were mingled with humble prayers. 
 
 Then as we raised our bended heads and down-cast 
 eyes to the pulpit, we listened to him who spoke as a 
 messenger from above. I have stood uj^on the top of 
 Mount Sinai, where God gave the law to men ; but God 
 never came so near to me as Avhen He spoke, not by the 
 lips of Moses, but of one to whom I looked up with far 
 more reverence than I did to Moses, because he spoke not 
 only with authority, but with that love which gives to 
 authority its highest power. How can I ever speak, or 
 think as I ought, of that white haired patriarch who taught 
 me the way of life, and of whom, as he went up out of our 
 sight, I could only exclaim, " My Father ! My Father ! 
 The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof ! " We 
 shall see him no more, and yet we mourn not, since we 
 think of him now as having passed into the highest 
 heavens, where he is without fault before the throne of 
 God! 
 
 Nor was the reUgion of New England merely inculcat- 
 
FAMILY PRAYERS. 83 
 
 ed in public ; it entered into tlie families of the people, 
 and was a part of their daily life. How well do I remem- 
 ber the morning and evening prayers! In my father's 
 family we read the Bible through in course, beginning 
 with Genesis, and going straight through to Kevelation. 
 We knew all the generations from Adam. We had as 
 clear an idea of the geography of the Garden of Eden, as 
 we had of our own village. Did we not have a map of it 
 in the old Family Bible, with the four rivers running out 
 of it at right angles! About that household worship 
 linger sweet and blessed memories. I had a sister with a 
 gentle voice, who at our morning prayers often sang : 
 
 Early, my God, without delay, 
 I haste to seek Thy face ; 
 and at evening, 
 
 Glory to Thee, my God, this night, 
 For all the blessings of the light ; 
 Keep me, keep me. King of kings. 
 Beneath the shadow of Thy wings. 
 
 Her voice thrills me even now, though I hear it only dying 
 away in the distance, as she long since passed within the 
 heavenly gates. 
 
 Pardon these personal allusions. But in the associa- 
 tions that are brought back to-night, thoughts of the Hving 
 are mingled with memories of the dead, memories which 
 it is good to recall, as they will help us to hve and to die. 
 That morning and evening worship was repeated in ten 
 thousand homes, as the Cotter's Saturday Night was repeat- 
 ed in the homes of Scotland ; and if 
 
 " From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs. 
 That makes her loved at home, revered abroad," 
 
 not less is it true of our dear New England. 
 
 Of what that North country has been and has done in 
 our national history, I will not speak. As Mr. Webster 
 
84 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 once said on a memorable occasion of Massachusetts : 
 "There she is; behold her, and judge for yourselves! 
 The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for 
 independence, lie mingled -with the soil of every State, 
 from Maine to Georgia, and there they will lie forever." 
 
 Such is New England, and such the inheritance which 
 she has left to her children. 
 
 Having thus spoken of the Old Home, may I say a few 
 words of the New One ? Though we meet to-night as 
 sons of New England, we are not in New England, but a 
 thousand miles away. Yet we do not feel that we are 
 strangers here, who must, like the captives in Babylon, 
 hang our harps upon the willows, saying " How can we 
 sing the Lord's song in a strange land ? " We are still at 
 home, in the same country, under the same flag, and 
 among those who are our countrymen and brothers. 
 
 I have no wish to revive painful recollections : indeed 
 they cease to be painful when we come to recognize the 
 hand of God in a bitter experience, leading us on to an 
 end better than we knew. The great Civil War, which 
 covered our land with mourning and woe, accomplished 
 for us in four years what could not have been accomphsh- 
 ed in a hundred years of peace. It removed the one great 
 bar to a perfect union, and made us know each other as 
 never before. Hatred between nations, as between indi- 
 viduals, is often born of ignorance. The Germans and 
 the French hate each other, because they are I'ival powers 
 and have had many wars, but this hatred would die out, 
 were it not that they live in different countries and speak 
 different languages, so that they cannot have that free 
 communion with each other, that would exist between 
 those of the same race and speech, passing to and fro, 
 from city to city. So in this country — the North and the 
 South were long separated by great distances as well aa 
 
NORTH AND SOUTH COMING TOGETHER. 85 
 
 by different institutions. Now, it may seem strange for a 
 minister of the Gospel to say it, but it is the sober truth 
 of history, that nothing promotes acquaintance so much 
 as war. Soldiers who meet face to face do not need any 
 foi'mal introduction : they do not stand on ceremony, but 
 at once present their salutations, and in an hour they are 
 better acquainted than they would be in years standing 
 aloof and indulging in mutual recriminations. Still further, 
 men who have fought each other generally have an immense 
 respect for each other. And while respect is not love, yet 
 it is an essential element in an attachment that is to be 
 strong and permanent. And so it is that good often comes 
 out of evil, and peace is established by war : " Out of the 
 lion cometh forth meat, and out of the strong cometh forth 
 sweetness." 
 
 The truth of this was never more fully illustrated than 
 in the result of our late war, by which we have not only 
 kept the old union, but established a still better one — one 
 that I beheve will last forever. This is the third time that 
 I have come South within a few years, and it has been with 
 increasing satisfaction that I have observed how old preju- 
 dices were dying out, and those long divided by ignorance 
 of each other, were coming to know each other better, and 
 to feel a genuine mutual respect. 
 
 In addition to this general reflow of fraternal feeling, 
 the people of this city, more than of almost any other in 
 our country, have been drawn together during the past 
 year by common trials and common sufferings. For 
 months there was no place which was the object of such 
 constant and painful interest. I see across the table a 
 gentleman who stood at his post here through aU that 
 dreadful time (I am proud to say that he is a brother- 
 editor), and sent daily messages to the North of the rav- 
 ages of the destroyer. He can hardly realize what min- 
 
86 THE YELLOW FEVER IN JACKSONVILLE. 
 
 gled feelings of terror and pity and sympathy those tidings 
 created, Jacksonville seemed to us like a besieged city, in 
 which your people were fighting with sickness and death. 
 Notliing tries human courage and endurance so much as 
 this daily hand-to-hand fight with an enemy, not without 
 but within your gates — an enemy all the more terrible 
 because it is invisible ; because it walketh in darkness and 
 wasteth at noonday. 
 
 You have read the story of the siege of Lucknow : and 
 remember how it dragged on for months, the enemy all 
 the while coming nearer and nearer, and the defenders 
 growing fewer and fewer. Still they only closed ujd their 
 ranks, and stood at their posts — men, and women too, all 
 involved in one common sufifering, some dying every day, 
 but with their last breath animating their siu-vivors. 
 
 You in Jacksonville have been through somewhat the 
 same experience. Month after month the pestilence was 
 never for a single moment out of your thoughts. Day 
 after day those whom you had seen in robust health were 
 carried to their long home, and the mourners went about 
 the streets. The strain of such j)rolonged anxiety must 
 have been terrible. How bravely it was borne, you best 
 know. Some of your foremost citizens — those who could 
 least be spared — sacrificed their lives to save yours. In 
 an address delivered here only day before yesterday, at 
 the reopening of your Sub-Tropical Exposition, I find the 
 following allusion to one who at the first opening intro- 
 duced the President of the United States : " You all 
 remember that the Chief Magistrate was introduced by a 
 man the memory of whose unselfish life is a heritage 
 beyond price — God's nobleman and our mai'tjo- — James 
 Jacquelin Daniel." As I read this, my thoughts went 
 back to Lucknow and to one who perished there. Sir 
 Henry Lawrence, the commander, exposing himself too 
 
LESSON OF THE PESTILENCE. 8t 
 
 bravely, was struck by a shell, and covering his uniform 
 that the soldiers might not know their terrible loss, was 
 carried away to die. Like Havelock, he was a Christian 
 soldier, and partook of the communion, and asked that no 
 eulogy should be inscribed upon his tomb, but simply 
 these words : " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tiied to do 
 his duty : may God have mercy on his soul ! " "With equal 
 truth might these words (which, simple as they are, com- 
 prehend everything) be written over the grave of your 
 martyr : " Here lies one who tried to do his duty ! " 
 
 These sacrifices have not been in vain, if they teach a 
 lesson to those who survive. They should not be forgot- 
 ten, for the memory wiU be an inspu-ation to you and to 
 those that come after you, to meet whatever trials may be 
 in store for you in the future. TJiose trials may not come 
 in the form of pestilence ; they may come in flames, which 
 may lay a part of your city in ashes. But no matter what 
 may be, nor how it may come, it wiU never be irretrieva- 
 ble if you stand together, thinking only of the common 
 safety, and meet danger with that presence of mind, that 
 calmness and resolution, of which men of your own city 
 have given such splendid examples. 
 
 But while we recall this great calamity, it is gratifying 
 to see how quickly and completely you have recovered 
 from it. If we had not had such full details in our North- 
 ern papers in the daily despatches from Jacksonville, we 
 could not beheve that it had passed through such a bitter 
 experience. But akeady trade has revived, and business 
 goes on as before, giving signs to the stranger of what I 
 hear from many quarters, that this is to be the great com- 
 mercial city of the South Atlantic coast, taking the place 
 formerly held by Charleston and Savannah. 
 
 If you would allow me, as an outsider, to express an 
 opinion, it wordd be that this prosperity has been greatly 
 
gS NEW MGLANDERS IN THE SOUTH. 
 
 promoted by tlie complete fusion of the North and the 
 South. I see here on every side the signs that Northern 
 capital and Northern enterprise have come among you, 
 and come to stay. But I should be sorry to think that 
 this was to be a Northern city in any exclusive sense. It 
 is Southern by latitude, by climate, and by population, and 
 such it must remain, only deriving additional strength 
 from the infusion of another element, the mingling of 
 Northern and Southern blood. 
 
 In this beautiful city of the South, you, sons of New 
 England, have fixed your home. You are not aliens here, 
 but feUow-citizens with your Southern brethren of this 
 goodly Commonwealth. You will be none the less so for 
 remembering where you were born, and cherishing the 
 principles and the habits which you learned from your 
 fathers : industry, integrity, fidelity ; and that fear of 
 Almighty God which becomes the descendants of the 
 Puritans. Brothers ! you who have come fi'om Maine and 
 Massachusetts ; fi-om the Green Mountains of Vermont 
 and the White Hills of New Hampshire ; fi-om the valleys 
 of Connecticut and the rocky shores of Rhode Island : you 
 are heirs to a great inheritance — the inheritance of two 
 hundred and fifty years of honor and glory. Keep that 
 honor unstained ! Wherever your lot may be cast, in the 
 Noi-th or in the South, or in the mighty West, let the sons 
 of New England show that they ai'e not unworthy of their 
 glorious Mother. 
 
CHAPTER VTL 
 NORTHERN FLORIDA. 
 
 I felt a real sinking of the heart when it came to saying 
 good-bye to St. Augustine. For seven weeks (except the 
 interval of the excursion to Jupiter Inlet, and a longer 
 visit to Havana) it had been my home. Never have I been 
 in a more restful spot. Coming from the incessant roar 
 of city streets, the change was as great as if I had been 
 transported to some mountain top, or to some deep valley 
 in the Alps, where the sounds of the busy world could not 
 reach me, and I could quietly gather strength for the open- 
 ing year. 
 
 But all its pleasTU'es oome to an end as the stalwart 
 porter — a man of mighty physique and stentorian voice — 
 comes up into the Rotunda, and cries in a tone that rings 
 through the halls, "All on board for Jacksonville ! " Re- 
 luctantly we vanish from the scene, and as we roll under 
 the arches and over the smooth road to the new Union 
 Depot, we keep looking back to the Spanish towers of the 
 Ponce de Leon, imder the shadow of which we have passed 
 so many weeks of rest and of happiness. 
 
 It softened a little the pain of departure, that I could 
 make the first stage of my homeward joiu'ney a short one, 
 
90 THE BEAUTY OF JACKSONVILLE. 
 
 and stop at Jacksonville, and spend an evening with the 
 Mends who had invited me to make the trip with them 
 to Jupiter Inlet. We met as brave companions-in-arms, 
 and as we sat round the table, we recalled our thrilling 
 experiences by flood and field, and fought oui' battles over 
 again in the most approved style of old soldiers. 
 
 When I first saw Jacksonville, it was only to pass 
 through it from one end of the main street to the other, 
 which I supposed to be the whole town ; and I thought 
 that, though it might be called in Western or Southern 
 phrase, "a right smart chance of a place," it was not very 
 pictiu'esque nor attractive in any way. It was not till I 
 came again for the New England dinner, and sjoent a day, 
 that I got any idea either of its extent or its beauty. But 
 when it came to a drive of several hours, I found the place 
 expanding in every direction ; and that the business por- 
 tion, instead of being confined to one street, overflowed 
 into many, in which the shops and stores and markets, the 
 railway stations and landing j^laces, had an air of busy, 
 bustling activity, not common in a Soiithern town. A 
 stately ship, just coming up the river, reminded us that 
 this was a seaj)ort, and had connection with all the cities 
 on the Atlantic Coast. Miss Thursby, whom I met at St. 
 Augustine, told me that she had never had a more delight- 
 ful voyage than that from New York to JacksonviUe. The 
 Sub-tropical Exposition, inaugurated last year by Presi- 
 dent Cleveland, but broken uj) by the j'ellow fever, had 
 been recently reopened — an event which was welcomed by 
 the people as a good omen, it being interpreted as a sign 
 of the revival of general prosperity. 
 
 The city is well laid out, having as a centre a square, 
 on which are two fine hotels ; and the wide streets, along 
 which they have begun to plant trees, are adorned with 
 many beautiful residences. The ground ah'eady built over. 
 
ON THE BANK OF THE ST. JOHN's. 91 
 
 must be two or three square miles in extent. Nor is 
 this all that is available for a city. Behind it is a large 
 plateau, elevated above the river sufilciently to furnish 
 perfect drainage, now covered with pine woods, but where 
 in the future I see in imagination hundreds and thou- 
 sands of suburban homes, such as now line all the roads 
 radiating fi-om that most beautiful city of the west, Cleve- 
 land, Ohio. In truth, Jacksonville reminds me of what 
 Cleveland was when I first saw it, forty years ago ; and 
 suggests the pleasant anticiiDation that what Cleveland is 
 to-day, Jacksonville may be in forty years to come : her 
 own enthusiastic people would probably say, in half that 
 time. 
 
 Returning from this plateau, we drove for a couj)le of 
 miles along the bank of the St. John's, where at intervals 
 are spacious dwellings, half hidden from view by the shade 
 of trees, and that on the other side look out upon the 
 broad surface of this noble river, the sight of " a busy city 
 far away "only adding to the sense of perfect seclusion. 
 I did not wonder that Mrs. Stowe had pitched her tent a 
 few miles to the south of this, at Mandarin, where under 
 the overhanging boughs, she could enjoy to the full the 
 solemn stillness, the whispering winds, and all the majesty 
 and inspiration of a forest home. 
 
 When I left Jacksonville the next morning, it was not 
 to take a course directly north, but west, which took me 
 through Northern Florida, a portion of the State that has 
 a character of its own. Southern Florida, all of which is 
 in the peninsida, is as flat as if it had but just i-isen from 
 the ocean bed, but here the country rises in gentle undula- 
 tions, like the rolling prairies of the West. The vegetation 
 also changes : instead of endless pine barrens, the trees 
 are at once larger and more varied, reminding one of the 
 oak openings of Michigan. There are also signs of activity 
 
92 OLD PLAiNTATION MELODIES DYING OUT. 
 
 along tlie road, more frequent than in the farther South. 
 Villages are sprinkled in the woods, and now and then the 
 welcome sound of a saw-mill mingles with the rushing of 
 a stream. I was not looking out for streams, for I was 
 not making a study of geography; and perhaps my readers 
 will smile when I teU them that the only one which I asked 
 to have pointed out to me, was the Suwanee river. It is 
 not much of a river, and as it gHdes away under the trees 
 along its banks, it seems to be hiding fi'om sight. But 
 even the glimpse of it as the train rushed over the bridge, 
 set me to humming to myself : 
 
 " 'Way down on de S'wanee river, 
 Far, far away — 
 Dere's where my heart is turning ebber ; 
 Dere's where de old folks stay." 
 
 This is one of the most popular songs in the world. 
 Years ago it was said that half a million copies of it had 
 been sold. It is the echo of the old plantation melodies, 
 though the words and the music were by a Northern com- 
 poser. Yet he must have made a study of the native songs, 
 till he caught their peculiar rhythm and was infused with 
 their spirit. What a j)ity that these old melodies, that 
 charmed a past generation, are dying out ! It may be said 
 that they are " slave songs," which were born of a state 
 of servitude, and that now the negroes are free, we can- 
 not expect them any longer to sing the songs of their 
 captivity. This may be one reason, and yet I cannot help 
 thinking that there is another still more potent, viz : that 
 they are ashamed of them, as if they were reminders of 
 their old state of bondage. 
 
 The evening before I left St. Augustine, there was a 
 gathering of the colored people in the Opera House, which 
 was chosen as the only building in the town large enough 
 to hold them. As I sat on the platform, between the 
 
TALLAHASSEE. 93 
 
 principal speaker and Dr. Paxton of New York, and looked 
 over the assembled multitude, it was a stirring scene. The 
 choir, composed wholly of colored singers, sang a number 
 of pieces, and sang well, as such singers always do, for 
 they have an instinct of melody ; and yet I felt a disap- 
 j)ointment, and said to the leader, " Why did you not sing 
 some of the old plantation melodies ? " " Because," he 
 answered, "I thought I would educate my people to some- 
 thing higher ! " That tells the whole story. It is in the 
 effort to rise to " something higher," that they have lost 
 what gave their songs such a wonderful pathos and power. 
 The feeling may be a natural one, but the result is to be 
 lamented, for so perishes what we would not willingly let 
 die. These songs have still a place in a world that is full 
 of breaking hearts. Slavery is dead, but sorrow is not 
 dead, and the time has not yet come, and perhaps never 
 wiU come, when mourning hearts will not need to sing 
 
 " Nobody knows the sorrows I've seen, 
 Nobody knows but Jesus," 
 and 
 
 " Keep me from sinking down," 
 
 At two o'clock we came to a city set on a hill. Not a 
 very high hill, to be sure, but one that it was refreshing to 
 see after so long dwelling on the plains. This was Talla- 
 hassee, the cajiital of Florida, a city which, compared with 
 the new towns that have sprung up here and there, is 
 quite venerable, and was in the former days a home of the 
 Southern aristocracy, and that still has many old famihes, 
 which, though reduced in wealth, retain that dignity and 
 courtesy of manners, which was the most attractive feature 
 of the olden time. It is still one of the most charming 
 towns in the South. 
 
 Riding over the hills, through long streets, past the 
 Capitol (in which the Legislature meets for a few months 
 
94 THE GRAVE OF ACHILLE MURAT. 
 
 of the year, wben the town is filled with the atmosphere of 
 pohtics), we come to the Leon Hotel — so named fiom the 
 county in which it is, that received its name at the first 
 settlement of the country, when it was christened from 
 the province of Spain that was united with Castile hun- 
 dreds of years ago. 
 
 There is another reminder of the Old World in the 
 graveyard, where, beneath a modest stone, lies the body of 
 Achille Murat. What a story is told in the name graven 
 on that monument! He who lies here was born in a 
 palace, the son of that fiery soldier whose deeds were 
 known on every battlefield of Eiu'ope, and of Carohne, 
 sister of the great Napoleon. Nephew of the master of 
 France, he seemed born to great destinies. His father 
 was made King of Naples, where, possessed of an indepen- 
 dent sovereignty, he thought to manage his httle kingdom 
 in his own way, and chafed at receiving orders from Paris, 
 to the indignation of his Imperial creator ; but restraining 
 his own impatience for a time, it broke out after the triumph 
 of the Allies in 1814, when he turned against his former 
 master, who was so angered by this treachery that when 
 he returned from Elba, he would not receive his former 
 Heutenant — a degree of displeasiu-e which cost him dear, 
 for with Murat (as he thought) he might have won the 
 battle of Waterloo. " It needed only," he said, " to break 
 a few English squares, and Murat would undoubtedly have 
 effected that." Meanwhile the latter had lost his throne, 
 which he endeavored to recover by a revolution that was 
 immediately suppressed, and he was shot. 
 
 Then the several branches of the Napoleon dynasty 
 sought a refuge in different paiis of the world. Joseph 
 Bonaparte, the eldest brother of Napoleon and former 
 King of Spain, came to the United States, and for some 
 years lived in retirement at Bordentown, New Jersey j 
 
A FRIEND ON AN OLD PLANTATION. 95 
 
 while the son of Murat, as yet hardly grown to manhood, 
 came to Florida and married an American wife, and no 
 doubt was hapj^ier in his quiet home than if he had inherit- 
 ed the throne of the two Sicilies. 
 
 After the restoration of the Empire under Louis Napo- 
 leon, the representatives of different branches of the family 
 were recalled to Paris, and shone as the stars of the 
 Imperial Court. But Achille Murat was in his grave. 
 The old residents of Tallahassee still remember him as the 
 quiet French gentleman, who won their respect and their 
 good will by his courtesy ; and they point out to strangers 
 the mansion on yonder hill where he lived with his true- 
 hearted American wife, who wrote the touching inscription 
 on his tomb, where she now sleeps beside him. 
 
 But I had come to Tallahassee chiefly to see an old 
 friend. Prof. E. Warren Clark, who many years ago wrote 
 Letters from Japan, when that country was less known 
 than it is now. I did not see him in Japan, nor become 
 acquainted with him till after his return to America ; nor 
 even since had I seen him often. But I felt such genuine 
 respect for him as one of the pluckiest men I had ever 
 known, that, although it was nearly two hundred miles out 
 of my way, I would not leave the South without seeing 
 him. Inquiring for him I found that he was living on a 
 plantation five miles from the city. Asking for a carriage 
 to take me there, the proprietor of the Leon kindly offered 
 to drive me himself ; so that I had not only his spirited 
 horses, but an excellent companion and guide. It was a 
 pleasant afternoon, and the new-plowed furrows in the 
 fields lay open to the sun, and as they melted under the 
 increasing warmth, gave promise of an early Spring. My 
 friend, coming South a few years since for his health, had 
 taken an old plantation, which had ran to waste after the 
 war, but which he had set to work with his usual energy 
 
96 MAKING A STOUT FIGHT. 
 
 to restore, and bring into cultivation. The place was 
 a large one, comprising several hundred acres of upland, 
 dotted over with grand old oaks, and looking down upon a 
 beautiful lake, across which the hills on the opposite side 
 cast their evening shadows. 
 
 But he had no end of troubles to encounter. He was 
 attacked with chills, which would have shaken the life out of 
 a less resolute man ; while he daily groaned over the easy- 
 going and slow-moving blacks, who would wear out the 
 patience of a saint. In hearing his story, I could not but 
 think that his " fight of afflictions " was greater in some 
 respects than Paul's : for while the Apostle had to fight 
 with beasts at Ephesus, he never had to fight with the 
 fever and ague ; and though his patience was tried in 
 dealing with all sorts of " unreasonable men," he had not 
 to deal with the Sambos and Topsys of an old plantation. 
 However, my brave fi'iend did not ask pity from anybody, 
 and while he told of his manifold experiences, laughed 
 heartily over them. Fortunately he stays here but a joart 
 of the yeai\ His famUy are settled in a delightful home in 
 Columbia, Tennessee, to which I hope he will be able to 
 remove, to engage in that varied work, as teacher and 
 l^reacher and lectiu'er, for which he is admirably fitted. 
 
 As he was alone except with his workmen, I immedi- 
 ately laid hold upon him, and cai-ried him off cajitive to 
 Tallahassee for the night. A pleasant evening it was in 
 the spacious parlors of the Leon Hotel, before the blazing 
 fire, where were many visitors from the North, among 
 whom we found, as usual, the three Cs — Cincinnati, Cleve- 
 land, and Chicago — well represented ; while in our private 
 talks we went back in memory and imagination to tlie 
 happy days that we passed in the Land of the Rising Sun. 
 
CHAPTER Vni. 
 " MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA." 
 
 When Sherman made his famous March to the Sea, the 
 Boys in Blue enlivened their " tramp, tramp," with many 
 a song as well as story — songs that were sung, not only on 
 the march, but by the camp-fire, and echoed far and wide 
 through the dim aisles of the Southern forest. Of these, no 
 one was more pojjular than " Marching through Georgia." 
 I do not remember ever to have heard it ; if I have I did 
 not know it at the time, as I coiild not even now tell it 
 from "Dixie." But as any verse of the Bible may serve 
 for a text, so the title of this old war-song is a good 
 enough heading for the wayside observations of one who 
 has been lately " marching through Georgia," from one 
 end to the other, though he did not capture anybody, but 
 on the contrary, must admit (if he had to confess the truth) 
 that the peoj^le captured him. 
 
 I " invaded " the State from the south. It is less than 
 thirty miles from Tallahassee, the capital of Florida, to 
 Thomasville, which (to keep up the military jjhrase) was 
 my first " strategic point." This is one of the new crea- 
 tions of the New South, that has sprung up in the pine 
 woods. Dr. Metcalfe, the eminent physician of New York, 
 
98 GEORGIA LARGER THAN NEW YORK. 
 
 " discovered " it a few years since, and finding that it 
 combined many of the features which he desired, recom- 
 mended it to his patients as a sanitarium for invalids, from 
 which (as is often the case) it became a fashionable resort 
 for a great many besides, chiefly well-to-do people from 
 Northern cities, who, not being kept at home by business, 
 sought a pleasant retreat from the severity of their own 
 climate. It has no great attractions of scenery, but is in a 
 rolling and well wooded country, far enough away from 
 the sea to escape the damp air, so trying to weak lungs. 
 Here a number of fine hotels have been built in the woods, 
 where one sitting on a broad verandah, may not only 
 breathe an atmosphere that is dry and pure, but inhale 
 the balmy odors of the forest. I am not surprised to find 
 these pleasant camping grounds taken possession of by 
 large colonies of Northerners, who swoop down on them 
 " like the wolf on the fold " — a class of " invaders," how- 
 ever, more welcome than the soldiers of Sherman, since, 
 instead of coming with guns in their hands, they bring no 
 other weapon than the gold which they scatter lavishly in 
 a region where it is greatly needed. 
 
 One has hardly an idea of the dimensions of Georgia, 
 until he makes a journey across its whole length or breadth, 
 as it stretches one way nearly five degrees of latitude, and 
 the other as many of longitude. It is called the Empire 
 State of the South, as New York is the Empire State of 
 the North ; but this does it injustice as to its magnitude, 
 for it is larger in territory than New York by more than 
 ten thousand square miles, the figures being for New York 
 47,003 square miles, and for Georgia 58,0^0! The latter 
 has not indeed some features of our Northern " Empire," 
 such as the Great Lakes on one border, and the mighty 
 Port, which receives the commerce of all parts of the 
 world, on the other ; yet it has beauties of its own. If it 
 
LINE OF Sherman's march to the sea. 99 
 
 has no Alpine heights covered with eternal snow, Like 
 Mount Hood, or other peaks on the Pacific Coast, it has 
 sufficient variety in a surface which stretches from the 
 mountains to the sea. On the north, the great Appalachian 
 chain (which, coming down from Virginia, forms the 
 boundary between the States on its eastern and its west- 
 ern slope, having the Carolinas on the one hand, and Ken- 
 tucky and Tennessee on the other) at last looks down upon 
 Georgia. From this mountain chain the Savannah river, 
 running to the sea, divides Georgia fi-om South Carolina, 
 while the Chattahoochee, tm'ning southward to the Gulf 
 of Mexico, divides it from Alabama. Within these boun- 
 daries of nature lies the broad imperial domain of a State, 
 in which there are no less than one hundred and thirty- 
 seven counties, and which has three millions of inhabit- 
 ants. 
 
 Central Georgia has not in its appearance much to 
 attract the eye of a stranger. It has not even the interest 
 of war, for Sherman's march from Atlanta was to the 
 southeast, in the general direction of the Savannah river, 
 though often at a long distance from it. The country is 
 flat, and the towns have a rough frontier look, like the new 
 settlements in the Territories of the West. Nowhere does 
 one see the finished beauty of our New England villages. 
 But my curiosity is always piqued to observe the mixed 
 population. Some travellers note peculiarities of Southern 
 dialect, but I do not see that they are greater than those 
 at the North, or that the New Englander who " guesses," 
 has much to boast over the Southerner who "reckons." 
 The negroes are a source of infinite amusement, as they 
 swarm around every railway station, as if they had nothing 
 to do but to enjoy this idleness — always happy, as they are 
 easily pleased, any poor joke being enough to set them 
 grinning from ear to ear. 
 
100 SOLDIER AND PREACHER. 
 
 In the crowds that fill the trains — it is a great mystery 
 to me where they all come fi'om and go to — there are 
 many strongly marked faces of men whom it would be a 
 pleasure to know. Whenever I see a man enter the car 
 who has lost an arm or a leg, I set him down as an old 
 soldier, and have a great desire to take a seat by him, 
 and hear him fight his battles over again, for, strange to 
 say, instead of being full of bitterness, and cherishing old 
 animosities, no class are so free fi-om them as these war- 
 worn veterans. 
 
 Among these was a man of fine presence, with an air 
 half military, half ministerial, with whom, as he took a 
 seat beside me, I fell in conversation. He proved to be, 
 as I had thought, an old soldier, who, when he laid down 
 his arms, took to preaching the Gospel. Having served 
 in the army of the Confederacy, did not unfit him at all for 
 serving in the army of the Lord. On the contrary, it 
 rather fitted him for his special duty, inasmuch as he is 
 now a presiding elder in the Methodist Church — a position 
 in which he has at once to command and to obey. I have 
 often thought that a little of this military discipline would 
 not be a bad thing for any of us, ministers or laymen. 
 We talked about the war with as much freedom as about 
 poUtics or chui'ches. As a soldier he had fought for the 
 cause which he thought to be right, and I have no doubt 
 fought bravely. Perhaps some of my Northern fi-iends 
 may think I failed in my duty that I did not seize the 
 oppoi-tunity to give him " a piece of my mind " on " the 
 sin of rebeUion," with an exhortation to repentance ; 
 but, as that might have been followed by a piece of his 
 mind on the wickedness (as he would look upon it) of 
 invading his State, I do not think the conversation would 
 have been j^rolitable to either. He talked very frankly, 
 yet without a particle of bitterness, nor did the fact that 
 
THROUGH MACON TO ATLANTA. 101 
 
 he liad left an arm on the field of battle make him feel 
 that he had a right to hate every man who hailed from the 
 North. So the conversation ran on for an hour, till he 
 reached his home, when I was truly sorry to jDart from him; 
 since I had found in him one who was certainly not an 
 enemy, and " no more a stranger," but " a brother in the 
 household of faith," whom, if I do not meet again this 
 side of the river, I trust I shall meet when we both have 
 "passed over the river, and rest under the trees." 
 
 It was evening when we reached Macon, and I saw it 
 only as we passed round it, getting ghmpses here and there 
 into the lighted streets. I was sorry not to see it in the 
 broad light of day, for it is reputed to be one of the most 
 beautiful cities in the South, on high ground, and laid out 
 in broad streets, lined with trees, with two or three colleges 
 and other public institutions. 
 
 But another hundred miles remained of our long jour- 
 ney before we should finish our " marching through Geor- 
 gia," and it was after ten o'clock when we rolled into the 
 station at Atlanta, where the first face to greet me was that 
 of Mr. Samuel M. Inman, who was waiting for me with his 
 carriage, in which he " took me to his o^vn home." De- 
 lightful it was, after a long day's journey, to be once more 
 in that sweet atmosphere, to look in kindly faces, and 
 receive the greeting of kindly voices. In such a home I 
 spent the three or four days of my stay in Atlanta. 
 
 Of all the cities in the South this attracts me most — 
 perhaps because I know it best — but apart from any per- 
 sonal associations, it has attractions of its own. It is a 
 new city, risen from the ashes in which it was consumed a 
 quarter of a century ago. And often it is with cities as 
 with men, a resui-rection is not only a rising to a new life 
 but a better life than that it had before. I beheve the 
 people of Chicago look back upon the great fire that laid 
 
102 RESUKRECTION OF A CITY. 
 
 a large part of their city in aslies, as in the end a blessing 
 — a hard discipHne, it is true, but one in which good came 
 out of evil. So with Atlanta ; it seems not only to have 
 sprung to a new life, but a far more vigorous hfe than it 
 had before. Now it is not altogether a Southern city, but 
 as in the old days it was sometimes said of a conservative 
 pohtician, that he was " a Northern man with Southern 
 principles," so reversing the pithy epigram, we may say of 
 Atlanta that it is a Southern city with Northern energy 
 and enterprise. More than any other city I know, it has 
 shaken off the incubus of old habits, the result of old 
 institutions, and sprung forward like a giant to run a race. 
 In the old slavery days there was a sort of slipshod air 
 about everything and everybody ; planters were head over 
 heels in debt, falhng behind from year to year ; trying in 
 vain to extricate themselves ; now selling their slaves one 
 after another, even to the family servants ; and not unfre- 
 quently the old plantation had to be mortgaged, till in 
 cases not a few, the proud possessers of old estates, and the 
 inheritors of honored names, had to go forth at last from 
 the mansions which they had received from their fathers to 
 eat the bitter bread of poverty. 
 
 At last by the hard discipline of war, this downward 
 tendency has been checked, and now the movement is the 
 other way. The power to endm-e hai-dship, which was 
 developed in war, has been turned to the arts of peace. 
 Poverty begets industry, and industry begets prosperity. 
 When people are not ashamed to work, nor to economize, 
 they soon grow rich ; and so it is that Atlanta has become 
 the prosperous city that it is to-day. 
 
 But it is not merely a money-making town, where 
 nothing is thought of but the almighty doUar : it is hon- 
 orably distinguished for the attention paid to education, as 
 shown in its schools and higher institutions, the latest of 
 
CHURCHES AND MINISTERS. 103 
 
 which, an Institute of Technology, is modelled after that 
 of Boston. 
 
 Well provided also is it with churches, which are both 
 numerous and strong. One cannot spend a Sunday here 
 without feeling that it is eminently a church-going city. 
 All denominations flourish. The two largest bodies in the 
 South are the Baptists and the Methodists. The former 
 are well represented, as everywhere in Georgia ; while the 
 Methodists, if they will pardon the expression, " keep up 
 steam " at a tremendous rate. This is not meant as a 
 flippant remark — for I could not speak lightly of a body 
 which I greatly love and honor. From the day that Wesley 
 preached in the American colonies, and laid the founda- 
 tions of Methodism this side the Atlantic, his followers 
 have been pioneers in carrying the Gospel into waste 
 places. All honor to them for the courage and self-sacri- 
 fice with which they have gone before to prepare the way 
 of the Lord ! 
 
 Nor have the Presbj'terians any reason to be ashamed, 
 for their churches also are both numerous and strong. 
 Dr. Barnett is now absent on a pilgrimage to the Holy 
 Land, sent by the generous kindness of a people who know 
 how to appreciate one of the best of ministers. Dr. 
 Strickler, like many others of the leading preachers of the 
 South, had had his military discipline and experience. 
 When the war Jaroke out he was in College at Lexington, 
 Virginia ; and about the time that Stonewall Jackson left 
 the Military Institute to enter on his memorable career, 
 a number of the students formed a company, of which 
 young Strickler was chosen captain, and fought in a num- 
 ber of battles, until at Gettysburg he was wounded and 
 taken prisoner. It was, if I remember rightly, more than 
 a year that he was confined at the North — a time that 
 would be wearisome to most, but which he did not pass in 
 
104 A PRISONER LEARNS TWO LANGUAGES ! 
 
 idleness, for in it lie applied himself to study, under the 
 instruction of a learned fellow-prisoner, and it is said, made 
 himself master of two languages ! "When at last he was 
 exchanged and returned to Richmond, he and his fellow- 
 prisoners expected to be received with a joyous welconle ; 
 but as they steamed up the James river and came to the 
 familiar landing, they were surprised at the absence not 
 only of enthusiasm, but of people. The streets were 
 almost deserted, ominous token of an impending flight. 
 He slept there that night, paying (as he told me) seventy- 
 five doUars for his lodging ! (so worthless had the Confed- 
 erate money become), and got out of the city by the first 
 train the next morning, fortunately for himself, for in less 
 than a week the crash came, and all the means of transport- 
 ation were choked up by the mass of those fleeing from 
 the city. This is the man, who, having endiu'ed hardness 
 as a soldier, is now a soldier of Jesus Christ, with a manner 
 so kindly and gentle that it is hard to realize that he ever 
 led a charge on the field of battle ! As a pastor he is 
 greatly beloved by the large congregation to which he min- 
 isters, and respected by the whole community. 
 
 Georgia has vast natural resources, the materials in 
 herself of great prosperity. In mineral wealth, in coal 
 and iron, she is perhajos not the equal of her sister State, 
 Alabama ; but in products of the soil far richer : first of 
 all in the fruits of the earth needed for man's subsistence : 
 in a rice crop second only to that of South Carolina ; and 
 sweet j)otatoes, the food of the South, second only to that 
 of North Carolina ; while her cotton crop, second only to 
 that of Mississippi, furnishes the staple of foreign com- 
 merce, that brings to her planters the money of the manu- 
 factvirers of both New England and Old England. 
 
 With such elements of wealth, the credit of the State, 
 if not quite so high as that of New York or Massachusetts, 
 
THE GOVERNOR AND HIS OLD SOLDIERS. 105 
 
 is higher than was that of any one of the States, or even 
 of the National Government itself, before the wsli'. 
 
 Apart from this, the government of the State is a good 
 government — it is in good and honest hands, by which the 
 laws are faithfully administered. The present Governor, 
 General John B. Gordon, is the most popular man in the 
 State, if not in the South — a popularity which he owes 
 undoubtedly to his services in the war. The man who 
 followed the foi-tunes of the Confederacy till the last hour, 
 and stood by the side of General Lee when he surrendered 
 at AjDpomattox, will never be forgotten by his soldiers. 
 Nor does he forget them. If there be any class for which 
 he feels most, it is Confederate soldiers, who are left pen- 
 niless and destitute. The Union soldiers are provided for 
 munificently by a government that is rich, and that scat- 
 ters among the veterans nearly a hundi'ed millions a year. 
 But the soldiers of a Lost Cause have no National Govern- 
 ment to look to — nothing but State authority, and the 
 charity of their old comrades, many of whom are as poor 
 as they. Georgia gives a hundred dollars a year to each of 
 her own soldiers who has lost a leg or an arm. But that 
 is a j)ittance for those who have famihes dependent on 
 them. Sitting in the Governor's room one day, he told of 
 the destitution of old soldiers, scarred with wounds, una- 
 ble to work, yet who had wives and children in absolute 
 want. Almost every day they came to him with the same 
 pitiful story. Only last week, he said, came in an old man, 
 who began : " Governor, I have not seen you since the war," 
 and after telling the story of his life, said : " Now I am an 
 old man, with seven daughters, and not money enough to 
 buy a loaf of bread ! " With this, said the Governor, " he 
 sat down in that chair, and wept like a child." No wonder 
 that the hero who has led these very men to battle, should 
 be touched to the heart by the sorrows of his old compan- 
 
106 THE QUESTION THAT FOLLOWS WAR. 
 
 ions-in-arms, and that it should he the dream of his life to 
 establish a Confederate Soldiers Home, where these wrecks 
 of the war should be saved from any further " going to 
 pieces." He would not have them separated from their 
 families, and put as pensioners in a kind of pubUc alms- 
 house, but be gathered in a number of homes, under a 
 general management, where there should be some simple 
 industries, by which they could do a little towards their 
 own suj)port. Thus they would be shielded from want, 
 and be able to pass the evening of their days in quietness 
 and peace. 
 
 Of such a governor Georgia may well be proud, and 
 not less of his heroic wife, who for four years followed the 
 camp, never being out of the sound of battle, when there 
 was need for her womanly courage and devotion. Atlanta 
 has many old soldiers, whom the South counts among her 
 bravest and her best, and who, after being foremost in 
 war, are now foremost in peace. The city and all the 
 country round are full of stirring associations ; and as 
 we walk through these bustling streets, there seems almost 
 a disaccord between this business activity and the mighty 
 memories that gather, like dark clouds, on the siirroimd- 
 ing hiUs. But so it is that the Dead Past is merged 
 in the Living Present. As the centre of such a mingled 
 life, where the Old South and the New South come to- 
 gether, Atlanta sets one thinking of the war, and of the 
 terrible problem that it has left behind it ; and so it is a 
 good place to linger, while we consider the great question 
 of Eace which now confronts our American civilization. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BLACK BELT THE DEAD LION SPEAK GENTLY 
 
 OF THE DEAD ! 
 
 As I came up from the Gulf States, I had crossed the 
 Black Belt — the portion of the South most densely popu- 
 lated by the black race. It is not a fixed zone, running 
 between two parallels of latitude, but surges back and 
 forth, like an ocean current where two seas meet, now 
 rising and roUing on, and now falling back, as if sinking 
 away into fathomless depths below ; but covering all to- 
 gether a vast surface, reaching half way across the conti- 
 nent. In this enormous Belt there are places where the 
 blacks form fifty, sixty, and even seventy and eighty, per 
 cent, of the population. Along this hne of deep shadows 
 lies the great problem of American poHtics and American 
 history. 
 
 So rapid has been the march of events that it is hard 
 to realize that, within the memory of men still in their 
 early prime, this was a population of slaves ; that they 
 were bondmen in the land of Egypt, out of which the 
 Lord brought them, though not by the way of the Red 
 Sea ! "What had seemed impossible was accomplished, not 
 by insurrections, not by massacre, but by a struggle in 
 
108 UNCLE TOM'S cabin. 
 
 wliich they took no sliare, but of wliicli tliey were to re- 
 ceive the benefit. To-day, as we look back at the change, 
 there is something appalling in the stillness of death that 
 has come over a Power that but lately held the land in 
 awe ! 
 
 But there is an old saying, honored for thousands of 
 years, that we should speak kindly of the dead. It may 
 seem indeed a strange moment to preach a funeral oration 
 when the corpus vile is lying, like a dead lion, in the streets, 
 for every ass to kick at. But it is the chivalrous custom 
 of soldiers, not to bear even an enemy to the grave, with- 
 out some remembrance of the brave deeds that he has 
 done, that may redeem his evil career. In this spuit let 
 us say a good word, if we can, for the old African lion 
 that fought so hard for its life, but to which none is now 
 " so poor as to do it reverence." 
 
 The system of slavery that has now passed into his- 
 tory, is known to us of the present day chiefly through 
 "Uncle Tom's Cabin" — that marvellous story, so vivid, so 
 dramatic, so intense in interest, written with a degree of 
 womanly feeling and pathos that at once caught the ear 
 of the world, till it was translated into all languages, and 
 made the circuit of the globe, filling aU civilized nations 
 with horror at the cruelties and crimes of American slave- 
 ry. The book was true- — that is to say, it was a possible 
 truth ; it depicted what might have been a fearful reality. 
 AU that it tells might have taken place on a plantation in 
 Louisiana ; but whether it did take place (except in rare 
 instances), is another question. Its Southern critics say 
 that it gave but one side to the picture ; while there was 
 another that was kept in the background, which needed 
 to be brought forward in clear relief, to see the whole sur- 
 roundings of the system of slavery. 
 
 This criticism is not strictly accurate : for no fair-mind- 
 
SOFTER FEATURES OF SLAVERY. 109 
 
 ed reader cau say that Uncle Tom's Cabin gives but one 
 side of slavery — the dark side — as it contains some exqui- 
 site i^ictures of plantation life in the old days of Louisiana, 
 that furnish a relief to the blackness that foUows ; but it 
 is true that, while there are these vivid contrasts in the 
 picture, yet the story is so told that the dominant impres- 
 sion is one of unmingled horror, and this it is of which 
 Southern men complain as unjust to the truth of history. 
 
 Certainly the pictures of slavery that were drawn with 
 such power, and took such hold of the imagination that 
 they even haunted us in our dreams, were very different 
 from the milder form of servitude known to most of the 
 Southern peoj)le, to whom it was a part of their domestic 
 life. The relations of the two races were the closest. The 
 negroes were not only a part of every community, but 
 members of every household. Though they stood in the 
 relation of servants to their white masters, yet they 
 " belonged to the family," and were the objects of a degree 
 of fanaily affection. White children, almost as soon as 
 they were born, were placed in the arms of black nurses, 
 who cared for them in babyhood and childhood. This 
 constant intimacy naturally led to the warmest attach- 
 ments, which often continued when the children had grown 
 to be men and women. "Whoever has known the Southern 
 people must have been struck with the way in which 
 not only women, but strong men, not given to sentiment, 
 speak of the old " aunties " and " mammies " who cared 
 for them in the years of their childhood. 
 
 As to Hfe on the plantations, those who remember it 
 teU us that they were conducted on a rather easy-going 
 system. The masters were not cruel men, nor even hard 
 men, who overworked the negroes, or subjected them to 
 undue severity. Indeed they were proverbially indulgent, 
 rather slipshod in business matters, and disposed to let 
 
no LIFE ox THE OLD PLANTATION. 
 
 things run along pretty much as they might. The plant- 
 er's house, with its wide porches and broad verandas, was 
 the centre of a little settlement, in the background of 
 which were rows of cabins neatly whitewashed. During 
 the day the men were in the fields, where the labor was 
 not hard, except perhaps at the time of the cotton-picking 
 or getting in the sugar-cane. While they were thus occu- 
 pied, the women were out of doors in the sun, doing their 
 various kinds of work, singing some plantation melody ; 
 while the pickaninnies were scattered about in costumes 
 which, if not very neat and trim, were at least free and easy. 
 Pass along these cottages at the close of a Summer's day, 
 and you might see pictures indicative of anything but op- 
 pression or unhappiness. The negroes are a mirth-loving 
 race, and the thrumming of a banjo, to the tune of some 
 poor ditty, was enough to gather a group of these children 
 of nature, as merry as nature intended them to be. 
 
 This is a very picturesque scene. But it was some- 
 times rudely interruj)ted. The master was very apt to 
 find, after some experience, that the old plantation, run in 
 this easy-going way, was run at a loss ; and that at the 
 end of the year he was in debt, and going from bad to 
 worse ; so that, to save himself, he was obliged to get an 
 overseer, who would not lie abed quite so late in the morn- 
 ing, but would be up at daybreak, riding over the planta- 
 tion, seeing that every hand was at work, and keeping 
 them at it till the sun went down. It was these overseers, 
 who were generally Northern men, to whom should be as- 
 cribed the use of the lash, and most of the severities and 
 brutalities, on the old plantations. 
 
 In this family — comprising perhaps, in men, women, 
 and children, hundreds of souls — the one on whom came 
 the heaviest burden, was not the negro, nor the planter, 
 but the planter's wife, who was at the head of the large 
 
DEVOTION TO THE WHITES DURING THE WAR. Ill 
 
 household, and supervdsed it all, laying out the work for 
 the women, often cutting their dresses with their own 
 hands, thus making herself the slave of her slaves. Nor 
 should it be forgotten how she made her round among 
 the cabins, looking after the sick, and not seldom kneehng 
 by the side of some old mammy or aunty, to pray with 
 her, and support her with the consolations of religion. 
 
 This affectionate care was repaid with gratitude and de- 
 votion. The negro race has its weaknesses and infirmities ; 
 but whatever these may be, it is at least capable of a de- 
 gree of afiection that sometimes leads them to forget their 
 own interests. Of this the most conspicuovis example was 
 given in the late war, when in many cases the whole male 
 portion of the family, aU at least capable of bearing arms, 
 marched to the field, leaving their wives and children 
 whoUy to the care of the blacks. Then was their oppor- 
 tunity to break away and strike for freedom, at the same 
 time striking terror into the defenceless households. But 
 not once, even in the darkest hours of the war, did they 
 harm those left to their care, nor leave them to shift for 
 themselves. Instead of violence, they gave protection; 
 instead of neglect, they worked the fields, and raised the 
 crops, and fed the families of their absent masters, who 
 were engaged in a war, the result of which would be, if 
 successful, to keep these very laborers in perpetual bond- 
 age. 
 
 But this was not aU. In many cases masters sent their 
 most trusted servants to the war, to look after the safety 
 and comfort of their own sons who were in the army. 
 My friend. Major Baxter of NashviUe, teUs me of a case 
 within his knowledge, where a young man — a mere boy — 
 seized as boys at that day were apt to be (whether they 
 hved at the North or South), with a desire to see the war, 
 was at last permitted by his father to go, but only because 
 
112 TIIK SIIADOAV BKIIIND THE SCENE. 
 
 Le could send Lim with a trusted family servant to look 
 after him, avLo of coui'se felt tliat lie had the authority of 
 an old uncle. As it hajDj^ened, in some petty affaii' the boy 
 received a trifling "wound, a mere scratch, that caused the 
 blood to trickle, which no sooner caught the eye of the old 
 darky, than he took the youngster in hand in the most 
 vigorous manner, calling him to account in this fashion : 
 " What shall I say to my ole massa, who sent me to look 
 ai'ter you, when here j'ou've been done gone and got 
 hurt?" 
 
 Tlius did the blacks follow their masters in camp and 
 field, as faithfully as they hud worked for them on the old 
 plantations. Never in the history of the world w^as there 
 greater devotion of one race to another, for which the 
 white people of the South owe to their former slaves a 
 debt of gratitude which they can never repay. 
 
 Looking back to these happy scenes, which he dimly 
 remembers, Mr. Grady has several times expressed to me 
 his earnest wish that some one of the young writers of 
 the South, who show such genius and give such promise, 
 should write a tale of Southern life in the old days, that 
 should be an offset to Uncle Tom's Cabin, bringing into 
 clearer light the softer aspects of the patriarchal institu- 
 tion. I doubt if he will ever find his man or his story: 
 for if the writer would avoid the jiartisanship which is 
 ascribed to IVIrs. Stowe, he must tell the truth, and the 
 whole truth ; and he knows the awful possibility that 
 lui-ked, as a shadow, behind all that gayety and hapj^iness. 
 He knows how a turn of fortune would have sent all those 
 hapj)y creatiu'es to the block. A.fiiend who sj^ent a Win- 
 ter on a plantation at the South, in a family of the high- 
 est culture and Christian character, tells us that there ex- 
 isted the greatest affection towards the servants, which 
 showed itself in many ways : as, for instance, a marriage 
 
THINGS WHICH CANNOT BE DEFENDED. 113 
 
 among the latter was tlie occasion of a rural fete as pretty 
 as if for a son or daughter of the family. Here surely 
 slavery appeared in its least repulsive form. And yet, on 
 the very next plantation, the cruelty to the slaves vv^as a 
 scandal that was the talk of all the country round ; and 
 on a still night one might hear the baying of the blood- 
 hounds, that told how the hunters were puj-suing the fugi- 
 tives in the forest ! These are things which cannot be cov- 
 ered up by flowers of rhetoric ; that cannot be turned into 
 poetry. For these slavery has received the condemnation 
 of the civUized world, and it is too late to ask for a rever- 
 sal of the decree. No young author could afford to risk 
 his reputation by writing a book to ajDologize for slavery : 
 it would be howled down as soon as it was born. No man 
 is strong enough to fight against the sympathies of the age. 
 There are some things which are as impossible in litera- 
 ture as in actual life, and one of these is to resuscitate 
 what is dead and buried, or to clothe with dignity what 
 men have pronounced accujrsed. For these things it 
 " behooved the Loixl " that the system should come to an 
 end — and it came ! 
 
 But aU was not joy when it came. Liberty has its 
 hardships as well as slavery. The master's hand might 
 be heavy, but it carried with it protection and support, 
 shelter and food and raiment — substantial realities to be 
 set in the balance against freedom. IVIiriam sang the de- 
 Hverance of her people on the shore of the Red Sea, but 
 it was not long before they sighed for the banks of the 
 Nile. So slavery, with all its harshness, took care of num- 
 bers who could not take care of themselves, and who but 
 for their kind masters would have been utterly destitute ; 
 but who, under this rule, were not cast off in the time of 
 sickness or old age, but had at least a place to die. 
 
 All this is now over. ^Tien the Day of Jubilee was 
 
114 THE BREAKING OF OLD TIES. 
 
 come, the negroes received as their legacy from the war the 
 priceless boon of freedom. But with all the exultation of 
 their new-found liberty, many of the poor creatures must 
 have felt their heartstrings pull as they turned their backs 
 on the old plantations, with the world all before them 
 where to choose. It was a very big world, but to many of 
 them it must have been a very cold world ; and we cannot 
 blame them if, like lost children, they sometimes sighed 
 for the shelter of their old homes. The negro is a very 
 domestic creature ; he loves familiar scenes ; and he clung 
 to old Massa and Missus, to whom he had been accustom- 
 ed to look for protection. But they too are gone. The 
 two races are parted forever : parted in their homes — the 
 cabins stand no longer in the shadow of the planter's 
 house, but far away in the lonely forest — parted in their 
 domestic Hfe ; parted in every interest ; parted even in 
 the worship of God. There is something very pathetic in 
 this rupture of old ties, cleaving not only through house- 
 holds, but through churches. Not only do the two races 
 stand apart in all domestic relations, but they cannot even 
 go to the house of God in company. In the old days the 
 colored people were a part of every congregation, and a very 
 numerous and picturesque part. In the great churches of 
 Charleston and Savannah the galleries were black with 
 Africans, among whom were many bouncing matrons, 
 resplendent in a blaze of highly colored dresses, with their 
 heads wrapped in gorgeous turbans of red bandannas, in 
 which they shone in a glory quite equal to that of their 
 masters and mistresses whom they looked down upon. 
 Now all that has departed. Now and then a solitary, woe- 
 begone darky may come back to the old church, and 
 creep into a corner and think of other days, but the poetry 
 and the picturesqueness are gone forever. 
 
 Since then twenty-five years have passed, and what is 
 
HEWERS OF WOOD AND DRAWERS OF WATER. 115 
 
 the result of the experiment of freedom ? We find that the 
 emancipation of the blacks has wrought no change in their 
 industrial position ; that they are still hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water to their old masters, though they are no 
 longer bondmen, but freedmen, receiving wages for their 
 labor. In this readiness to work under the new condi- 
 tions, they have disproved the confident declaration of 
 their enemies, that black labor must always be forced 
 labor ; that the negro was such an idle creature that he 
 must be compelled to work by some legal power ; that if 
 he were not driven to the field by the lash, he must be 
 subject to some more or less gentle compulsion. Some 
 prophets of evil at the close of the war, went so far as to 
 predict that society would go to pieces ; that four millions 
 of slaves, set free, would refuse to work ; that they would 
 become idlers and vagabonds, and finally thieves, robbers, 
 and murderers ; till life would become absolutely intoler- 
 able, and the whites would have to flee for refuge to some 
 part of the earth which still retained a trace of order and 
 civilization. 
 
 This fear has been entirely dispelled. The negroes were 
 perhaps a little frisky at their first experience of freedom, 
 and may have taken a good spell of idleness just to know 
 "how it felt." But the result proved that the poet wrote 
 
 truly: 
 
 " O nebber you fear 
 
 If nebber you hear 
 
 De driver blow his horn ! " 
 
 After " lying off " for a few days or weeks, they slowly 
 came back to the old plantations, resuming their places in 
 the fields, only receiving wages, like other hired laborers. 
 The result has been satisfactory. I know it is said that 
 they are lazy and shiftless, and this is true to some 
 extent, particularly in towns, where they idle about the 
 
116 INCREASE OF THE COLOUED RACE. 
 
 streets. But generally the habit of obedience to their old 
 masters, and the pleasant feeling they have when at the 
 close of the day or the week, they have dropped into their 
 hands the bright silver doUars, has brought them back to 
 habits of industry. The prediction that they would not 
 work, has been answered by themselves in the fact that 
 they do work, of which this very year (1889) furnishes 
 magnificent proof in the largest cotton crop ever known, 
 exceeding that in the year before the war by over two 
 millions of bales ! True, this enormous production is as- 
 cribed in part to white labor. So much the better, as it 
 proves that those who once disdained the hard work of 
 the field, have now put their strong arms to the task of 
 Southern regeneration. Yet, with aU that they have done, 
 the heaviest part of the burden has been borne on the 
 stalwart African shoulders. 
 
 But the most notable fact which this quarter of a cen- 
 tury has demonstrated, is the prodigious physical vitality of 
 the black race. When slavery was abolished, some shrewd 
 observers predicted that it would result in their complete 
 extinction. This was gravely expressed in the most opposite 
 quarters, as an illustration of which I give the opinions of 
 two distinguished men, representing the extreme wings — 
 Dr. Palmer of New Orleans and Theodore Parker. The 
 foi*mer, in a sermon preached before the war, afiirmed of 
 the negro in so many words, "His freedom is his destruction "; 
 and Theodore Parker, champion as he was of the colored 
 people, thought they were such a weak race— ^ so helpless 
 and dependent, and so utterly incapable of taking care of 
 themselves — that, if set free, they would dwindle and disap- 
 pear. He said, " When slavery is abolished, the African pop- 
 ulation wiU decline in the United States, and die out of the 
 South as out of Northampton and Lexington ! " NatviraUy 
 we look upon these strange predictions as relics of a pre- 
 
A POPULATION OF SEVEN MILLIONS ! lit 
 
 historic age, and yet within a few weeks I have received a 
 speech by an Alabama Senator, in which he argues at 
 great length that " the African cannot survive in America," 
 and that "freedom has sealed the fate of the colored man! " 
 Well ! if he is going to die out in the land, he takes a long 
 time about it, and enters on the task of self-extinction in 
 a strange way. "Whether it be according to any law by 
 which races living in poverty, with scant clothing and hard 
 fare — or, as some philosophers would say, Hving nearer to 
 nature — multiply more rapidly than those living in com- 
 parative luxury, the fact is ajiparent that the black race, in- 
 stead of diminishing, has increased ; some say much faster 
 than the whites ; that while the whites have also increased, 
 the blacks have swarmed ! The relative proportion can 
 only be decided by the next census. But, even admitting 
 the increase of the two races to be equal, that alone shows 
 in the black race a physical vitality which will give it 
 streng-th to live for many generations. 
 
 In 18G5, when the war closed, there were four millions 
 of colored people in the Southern States ; to-day there are 
 seven millions — an increase of three miUions in twenty-five 
 years, or over a hundred thousand a year ! Thus, instead 
 of dying out, the race increases with great rapidity ; the 
 Black Belt grows denser and blacker, till it lies like a 
 dark thundercloud along the Southern horizon. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 A NEW DEPAETURE THE NEGRO VOTE. 
 
 The fidelity of the blacks to the whites during the war, 
 we shoiild suppose, would hare awakened in the latter a 
 feeling of gratitude to those to whom they owed so much, 
 and made their relations closer than ever. So it might 
 have been if these had remained unchanged. So long as 
 the two races lived together as masters and servants, there 
 was no friction between them, as the one was subject to 
 the other, and its attitude was that of submission and obe- 
 dience. But when the war was over, and the sky had 
 cleared, " old things had passed away, and all things had 
 become new." There had been an upheaval and disloca- 
 tion of the f onner strata of society ; so that those who had 
 been accustomed to look down upon their inferiors, sud- 
 denly found themselves standing on the same level and in 
 close proximity. There were no longer masters and slaves, 
 but simply white and black "fellow-citizens." * From that 
 
 * This is the order of events, which shows the several stages 
 of progress : 
 
 In the early part of the war Mr. Lincoln had been urged by 
 the more pronounced anti-slavery men to issue a Proclamation 
 of Emancipation ; but with his usual caution, he hesitated and 
 
FROM EMANCIPATION TO CITIZENSHIP. 119 
 
 moment jealousies arose which did not exist before, and a 
 process of alienation began, which has continued to widen 
 till the two races now stand apart in complete separation. 
 The climax was reached when, iu addition to the fullest 
 
 delayed from month to month, hoping that the ending of the 
 war would render such an extreme measure unnecessary. But 
 as it still went on with increasing bitterness and doubtful issue, 
 he began to perceive that in the last resort he might be com- 
 pelled to take this step ; and on the 22d of September, 18G2, 
 (within a week after the battle of Antietam, when perhaps he 
 thought the South might be more disposed to listen to reason) 
 he sounded the first note of warning : that if it persisted in re- 
 bellion, in just one hundred days from that date — viz : on the 
 1st of January, 1863 — he would issue a Proclamation declaring 
 that "all persons held as slaves within any State, the people 
 whereof should be in rebellion against the United States, should 
 be then, thenceforward, and forever fkee." The warning was 
 not heeded. The war went on, and on the appointed day the 
 thunderbolt fell in that great Proclamation of Emancipation, 
 which was to mark the beginning of a new era in American his- 
 tory. It closed with these memorable words : "And upon this 
 act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the 
 Constitution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate 
 judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God." 
 
 In the very year that the war ended, 1865, slavery was forever 
 abolished by the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, 
 which declares that "neither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, 
 except as a punishment for crime, whereof the party shall have 
 been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any 
 place subject to their jurisdiction." Three years later, in 1868, 
 was added the Fourteenth Amendment, securing, not only the 
 liberty of the blacks, but their citizenship, as it declared that "all 
 persons born or naturalized in the United States are citizens," 
 and that of their privileges as such they cannot be deprived by 
 any State ; and in 1870 came the Fifteenth, and last. Amend- 
 ment, that "the right of the citizens of the United States to 
 vote, shall not be denied or abridged by the United States, or by 
 any State, on account of race, color, or previous condition of 
 servitude." 
 
120 THE VOTE NOT A NATURAL RIGHT. 
 
 personal liberty, tlie blacks were raised still higber, and 
 invested with political power. Tbis is not included in 
 freedom. Alexander II. emancipated twenty millions of 
 serfs in Russia, but tbat did not give tbem tbe rigbt to 
 vote. Neitber did it give tbe rigbt to tbe freed slaves of 
 America. It is important to keep tbese two tbings distinct. 
 Personal liberty may be a natural rigbt, but tbe privilege 
 of voting certainly is not. We bave beard a great deal of 
 late of "manbood suffrage " (wbicb bas a brave sound, tbat 
 fits it to be a political war-cry), as if suffrage were a rigbt 
 wbicb attacbed to every man, of woman born, bowever igno- 
 rant, tbougb be were a fool or an idiot, for tbis did not 
 destroy tbe fact tbat be was still a man ! In all tbe coun- 
 tries of Europe tbat bave free institutions, even in aristo- 
 cratic England, tbere bas been a tendency towards tbis 
 feature of a pure democracy. Every few years tbere bas 
 been an extension of tbe suffrage, making tbe qualifica- 
 tions less rigid, tiU now tbe voting class includes almost 
 tbe wbole population of England. Tbese cbanges Ameri- 
 cans are wont to bail as movements in tbe direction of lib- 
 erty. But wbetber tbey are in tbe dii-cction of good gov- 
 ernment, is anotber question. Tbat depends on wbetber 
 tbose to wbom tbe vote is given are fit to use it. If not, 
 every extension of tbe suffrage, so far from being a step in 
 tbe way of progress, is a step backward towards barbarism. 
 It is tbis absurd notion of natural rigbts, carried to tbe 
 utmost extreme, tbat bes at tbe bottom of all tbe false and 
 destructive tbeories of socialism and communism, wbicb 
 tbreaten society in tbe Old World. It is in political pbi- 
 losoj^by wbat " original sin " is in tbeology — tbe " primeval 
 curse," tbe "Adam's fall, in wbicb we sinned all." 
 
 From tbat entailed curse no nation bas suffered more 
 tban our own. Tbe first downward plunge was made 
 wben tbe suffrage was given to tbe immigrants just landed 
 
IMPORTING RULERS BY THE CARGO. 121 
 
 on our shores. History could not furnish a better argu- 
 ment against the suicidal foUy of giving political power to 
 those who are utterly incompetent to use it. Universal suf- 
 frage is weU enough in New England, in the country towns, 
 where there is general intelligence, and the people have 
 been trained to voting in their town elections ; but to give 
 it to the ignorant creatures that are " dumped," like cattle, 
 on our wharves, is the very insanity of democracy. We 
 have found what a terrible curse it is in New York city, 
 where we are overrun by these hordes that have not the 
 remotest idea of American institutions. "We import igno- 
 rance by the cargo, and set it up to mle over us. IVIr. 
 Hugh McCuUoch, in his recent admirable volume, argues 
 that the giving of the suffrage to aU the immigrants that 
 land upon our shores, is the great danger of the Republic. 
 
 But, as if it were not enough to commit one such folly, 
 we must add another, and a greater, in giving the same 
 unrestricted suffrage to the negroes of the South. Not 
 that it is any worse to give the vote to ignorant blacks 
 than to ignorant whites, [it is not the color I object to, 
 but the ignorance wherever it exists, in white or black — 
 the mistake is as great in the one case as in the other,] 
 it is worse only in that it is far greater in amount ; that 
 whereas the immigrants in our Northern cities are coTinted 
 by tens of thousands, the blacks in the South are counted 
 by millions. One folly does not excuse another ; it should 
 rather be a warning against it ; and the horrible blunder 
 that was made in giving the vote to the "raw Irish," 
 should have warned us against plunging into a still deeper 
 abyss by giving it to the blacks without reserve. 
 
 But with a nation, as with individuals, there is some- 
 times a state of the pubHc mind approaching to frenzy, 
 which leads it to rush to fatal extremes. Such an access 
 of rage and madness is apt to follow a civil war. It fol- 
 
 / 
 
122 LINCOLN ON POLITICAL EQUALITY. 
 
 lowed oiu's, and there was but one man wlio could control 
 it — the man who had carried the country through the war, 
 and thereby acquired a boundless poj)ularity. Such a 
 strong hand was needed in the critical period of recon- 
 struction. How he would have acted in this very matter, 
 it is not dijB&cult to see : for aU his ideas and habits of 
 mind were conservative, and with his sense of humor he 
 would have received a proposal to give the suffrage to the 
 blacks just off the j^lantation, as a huge joke ! This was 
 something which he never di'eamed of. When he wrote 
 his Emancipation Proclamation, he promised the slaves 
 their liberty, to be maintained by all the military forces of 
 the United States ; but it never entered his head that he 
 was to divide with the newly emanciiDated the business of 
 the government ! On this j)oint we are not left to conjec- 
 ture, for he had expressed himself in no doubtful language. 
 Long before the war, in his famous joint debate with 
 Douglas, in answering the question whether he was " really 
 in favor of a perfect equality between the negroes and 
 white people," he replied in words which could not be 
 more explicit : " I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of 
 bringing about in any way the social and poUtical equality 
 of the white and black races. I am not, nor ever have 
 been, in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor 
 of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with 
 white people ; and I will say, in addition to this, that there 
 is a j)hysical difference between the white and black races 
 which I beheve will forever forbid the two races living 
 together on terms of social and political equality." 
 
 No doubt Mr. Lincoln's ideas may have been changed 
 by the war, which brought an overturning of all things ; 
 but it could not change the " physical difference," which, 
 in his view, would '^ forever forhid the two races living to- 
 gether on terms of social and political equality." Remem- 
 
THE PLEA OF NECESSITY. 123 
 
 bering this, it is safe to suppose that liad he been living 
 at the time this legislation was before Congress, his rug- 
 ged common-sense would have perceived the fearful dan- 
 ger of committing political power to such untried hands. 
 Here, as in the settlement of the many oth«r difficult 
 questions of reconstruction, the country was made to feel 
 mournfully the want of that large, kind, gentle wisdom. 
 The greatest calamity that ever happened to the South, 
 wa3 the assassination of Abraham Lincoln ! When he was 
 in his grave, another of quite a different stamp reigned in 
 his stead, Andrew Johnson, who, with his perverse obsti- 
 nacy and utter want of tact, soon succeeded in embroiling 
 himself with Congress, where he was confronted in the 
 House of Representatives by another man equally deter- 
 mined, Thaddeus Stevens, whose imperious will made him 
 the ruling spirit in that stormy time, and able to lead his 
 party to any extreme of rash legislation. Between the two, 
 there was little place for prudence and moderation. 
 
 The plea for negro suffrage was one of necessity. It 
 was the same argument that was used during the war to 
 justify any violation of private rights or State rights, viz : 
 that it was a " war measure," and was necessary to save the 
 country ! The ballot was declared to be a political neces- 
 sity, "unless we would sacrifice the results of the war"! 
 If all power in the Southern States were left in the hands 
 of the whites, they would legislate the blacks back into 
 slavery ; or, if they did not, would impose such restrictions 
 upon their liberty as would reduce them to a state of quasi- 
 servitude. For this fear there was good reason. Hardly 
 had the war closed, and the machinery of legislation been 
 put in motion, before there were movements here and there 
 to pass such laws as to neutralize the benefits of freedom. 
 The black man was no longer a slave, but an " apprentice," 
 v.fho could be " bound out " to hard labor under conditions 
 
124 POLITICAL CONDITIONS REVERSED. 
 
 almost as stringent as those of criminals in the chain-gang.* 
 Against this there was no insurmountable barrier but to 
 give the vote to the whole negro population. Ardent par- 
 tisans reasoned that a people covJd not be juggled out of 
 their rights to whom the ballot was given without quali- 
 fication, restriction, or limitation ! How greatly they were 
 mistaken in this, the experience of a few years fuUy proved. 
 To make the matter worse, not only were the blacks 
 let into the citadel of power, but many of the whites were 
 shut out. To be sure, they could resume their former 
 position on easy terms. Says IVIr. Blaine in his History: 
 " The great mass of those who had resisted the national 
 authority, were restored to all their rights of citizenship 
 by the simple taking of an oath of future loyalty; and 
 those excepted from immediate reinstatement, were prom- 
 ised fuU forgiveness on the slightest exhibition of repent- 
 ance and good works." But even this requirement grated 
 harshly on the proud spirits that had been leaders in the 
 wai-, who held back from taking the iron-clad oath ; and 
 when the blacks were admitted to the poUs en rnasse, the 
 whites found themselves swamped as by an inundation. 
 This was a complete revolution. Power was taken away 
 from the upper classes, and given to the lower — the covirse 
 directly opposed to reason and common-sense. Nature 
 seems to ordain that in jDolitical societies, as in all hiunan 
 affairs, intelligence shall rule over ignorance, and civiliza- 
 tion over barbarism. But here this natural order was 
 reversed. Ignorance was set to rule over intelligence, and 
 thus the whole framework of society was turned upside 
 down. That which had been at the top was savagely 
 
 * For a full account of this Southern legislation, see Mr. 
 Blaine's "Twenty Years in Congress " (Volume II., Chapter V.), 
 wherein he gives such details as justify him in describing it as 
 "a virtual reenactment of the slave code." 
 
NEGRO GOVERNMENT. 125 
 
 thrown down and put at the bottom, and the bottom was 
 dug out and put at the top. This, whatever the poHtical 
 necessity that compelled it, I cannot but look upon as 
 anything less than the triumph of barbarism, and a crime 
 against civilization ! 
 
 The effect was what might have been expected. The 
 poor people who received the ballot hardly knew what it 
 meant. They could not read the names that were wi'itten 
 on it, and were ready to vote as they were told, for any- 
 body living or dead — for Andrew Jackson, or George 
 Washington, or Moses, or Melchisedek ! Of course they 
 were the easy prey of demagogues, who could flatter them 
 by appeals to negro vanity, or (what they understood still 
 better) pay them for a vote, as they would for a day's 
 work ; and they made a pretty mess of legislation. I was 
 in Richmond soon after the war, and went up to the old 
 Capitol, and saw both houses filled almost wholly with 
 negroes. It was not a cheerful sight, and as I turned 
 away, I could but ask myself, Is this the highest result of 
 free institutions in the New World ? 
 
 Then the beauties of negro government were illustrated 
 to the fuD. In South Carolina and the Gulf States it had 
 a clean sweep ; and if we are to beheve the records of the 
 time, it was a period of corruption such as had never been 
 known in the history of the country. The blacks, having 
 nothing to lose, were ready to vote to impose any tax, or 
 to issue any bonds of town, county, or State, provided they 
 had a share in the booty ; and thus negro government, 
 manipulated by carpet-baggers, ran riot over the South. 
 It was chaos come again. The former masters were gov- 
 erned by their servants, while the latter were governed by 
 a set of adventurers and plunderers. The history of those 
 days is one which we cannot recall without indignation and 
 shame. After a time the moral sense of the North was so 
 
126 THE NEGRO VOTE DEFEATS ITS OBJECT. 
 
 shocked by these performances that a RepubHcan Admin- 
 istration had to withdraw its proconsuls, when things at 
 once resumed their former condition, and the management 
 of affairs came back into the old hands. 
 
 Time is sure to bring its revenges ; and there seemed a 
 kind of Nemesis in the issue, by which the machinery so 
 elaborately prepared to perpetuate a certain rule, had ex- 
 actly the opposite effect. This amazing stroke of policy 
 was intended to reduce the power of the white vote by 
 raising up a colored vote to offset it. But owing to the 
 greater skill of the whites in the manipulating of votes, or 
 their power of coaxing or overawing their former servants, 
 the course of the latter was speedily reversed, and thrown 
 almost solidly on the side of their old masters. And inas- 
 much as the negroes were now counted in their full num- 
 bers — instead of at three-fifths, as before, in fixing the 
 basis of representation — the addition of their votes swelled 
 enormously the political power of the South in Congress 
 and in the Electoral College, and thereby in the choice of 
 President of the United States ! 
 
 Here was a shifting of the scenes which completely 
 upset the calculations of the politicians. The history of 
 politics is full of surprises ; but never was there a greater 
 one than in the operation of negro suffrage at the South. 
 
 Since that time things have settled down into a regular 
 " system," which is simj^ly that of systematic disregard of 
 the laws and the Constitution of the "United States. But 
 this slight discrepancy troubles no man's conscience, as 
 every man, when questioned, declares himself, like the 
 toper in Maine, " in favor of the law, but ' agin ' its execu- 
 tion " ! The matter is perfectly understood, and there need 
 be no ambiguity about it. The negro vote, like the cotton 
 crop, is always in the market, to be sold to the highest 
 bidder. This seemed to be the first tangible idea which the 
 
THE NEGRO SELLING HIS VOTE. 12t 
 
 blacks had of the ballot — that it was something they could 
 sell, and something which they have sold fi'om that day to 
 this, their chief ambition being to get a good price. The 
 negro is for sale to-day as much as ever. He is put up at 
 auction on the block, or rather he puts himself up. A New 
 England pastor in Florida told me of a scene he witnessed 
 • at the polls. A negro got up on a box, and said: "I hasn't 
 voted. Does any gemman want to speak to me ? " Of 
 course he found a " gemman " who was ready to whisper 
 something in his ear. But he was not so simple as to take 
 the first bid, and asked if " any oder gemman wanted to 
 speak to him "; and after receiving several confidential 
 communications, yielded to the arguments of the "gem- 
 man " who spoke the loudest, or in the way that he could 
 best understand. All are not so unblushing as this. One 
 colored brother, I was told, had a conscience about the 
 matter, and made it a principle not to take more than two 
 dollars and a half for his vote, saying that "that was all it 
 was worth"! 
 
 In such hands the suffrage is a farce — not a farce in the 
 sense that it is only a subject for laughter, but a horrible 
 farce, in which the stake played for in this tossing of the 
 dice is the government of a people that profess to be 
 civiUzed, with the effect of a general demoralization of 
 both races, whites and blacks, one of which thinks it is no 
 harm to buy what the other is so ready to sell. So gen- 
 eral has this buying and selling become, that many have 
 told me that it was absolutely impossible to have an honest 
 vote, and they had given it up in despair. 
 
 From buying votes, it is but a step to fraud in counting 
 them, which is cheaper, and quite as effective ; or ballot- 
 boxes may be emptied of the "wrong" votes, and stuffed 
 with the " right " kind. There is but one step further — 
 to intimidation, when men come to the polls with shot- 
 
128 FRAUD AND INTIMIDATION. 
 
 guns, not of course to do any mischief, but as a gentle 
 hint to the other side that it might be safer to retire into 
 the woods or to their cabins, and leave the business of 
 electing public officers to those who understand it better. 
 If this mere show of force does not prove sufficient, the 
 guns are used in a more effective way. We hear of vio- 
 lence not unfrequently ending in murder ; of midnight 
 assassinations committed by masked marauders — Ku Klux 
 Klans, or whatever they may be called. These outrages 
 have produced at the North such a feeling of indignation, 
 that there is a general outcry that stern measures be taken 
 for their suppression. Of course such cowardly crimes 
 should be punished with all the power of the law. The 
 only question is. By what power shall they be punished ? 
 Murder is a crime against the State, to be punished by the 
 State. If a murder is committed in the streets of New 
 York, we do not send to Washington to ask for aid in 
 bringing the murderer to justice. There may be a case 
 of crime so extreme, and comprehending so many persons, 
 that the State authorities are powerless, and the General 
 Government may be asked to interfere. Thus if there were 
 a riot in this city, such as we saw in 1863, which should 
 threaten, if unchecked, to overthrow all law, and perhaps 
 lay the city in ashes, the President might order the troops 
 from Governor's Island to give support to the police in 
 enforcing order ; but surely we do not look to that source 
 of authority to manage the internal affairs of our State. 
 No more can it be called to perform police duty in the 
 South. There, as at the North, crimes must be punished 
 by the States in which they are committed. If the Gen- 
 eral Government can give indirect aid, of course it will ; 
 but with the best intention, it can hardly be expected to 
 reach out its long arm from Washington to lay hold of 
 fugitives in the swamps and cane-brakes of the South. 
 
DEMAND FOR A FREE BALLOT. 129 
 
 But the demand is for the President, supj^orted by- 
 Congress, to intei-fere to secure a free and honest ballot at 
 the South ! This might well set us at the North to think- 
 ing whether we are not responsible for this complication of 
 affairs. We have forced universal suffrage upon the South, 
 and now are asked to step in to save it from the natural 
 consequence of our own blunders and mistakes. 
 
 Have we well considered what it means to "regulate 
 elections " at the South ? Do we mean to send an army 
 there, and have soldiers stand guard at the polls? The 
 experiment of military government has been tried with a 
 result that is not encouraging. After the war, the power at 
 command was almost absolute. When General Grant was 
 President of the United States, and Commander of the 
 Army and Navy, he had lieutenants in the South (all brave 
 in fighting battles, but who had a limited experience in 
 civil Hfe) that were ready to declare martial law in every 
 city from Richmond to New Orleans ; to surround every 
 State-house with soldiers ; and to dictate the choice of 
 rulers at the point of the bayonet. Such extreme meas- 
 ures were not resorted to (except perhaps in one instance, 
 by Sheridan at New Orleans) ; yet during the whole of 
 General Grant's eight years of power, there was in the 
 South what amounted to a military occupation, with all 
 the pressure that it brings to bear on legislation. But 
 so utter was the failure of this policy of coercion, that 
 scarcely had Mr. Hayes been inaugurated when, under the 
 advice of his distinguished Secretary of State, ]Mr. Evarts, 
 it was abandoned as absolutely beyond the power of the 
 National Government. 
 
 "Ah, then," say some, " there is no hope for the eman- 
 cipated slaves — emancipated only in name ! If the South 
 will not do them justice, and the North cannot enforce it, 
 they are left to be ground between the upper and nether 
 
130 THE WHOLE SOUTH BEARS THE ODIUM. 
 
 millstones ! " Not quite so bad as that ! Injustice always 
 brings its own punishment. The South is sufifering to-day 
 from the lawlessness within her borders. Every " outrage " 
 that is sent on the wings of lightning to the North, stirs 
 up anew the feeling of indignation, and is a warning to 
 Northern people and Northern capital to keep away from 
 a land thus smitten by the pestilence. Of course, in this 
 sweeping condemnation the good people of the South suf- 
 fer with the bad : because it is assumed that these foul 
 deeds are upheld, or at least condoned, by public opinion. 
 In this there is a degree of injustice. Quiet and peace- 
 able men express their horror and disgust at them, but say 
 that they are the work of lawless ruffians, such as infest 
 every community, and who are not more numerous at the 
 South than the class of professional criminals at the North. 
 But however few they may be, they seem to be strong 
 enough to defy the law : for I have yet to hear of a single 
 man punished for his part in these midnight assassina- 
 tions! And so long as murderers walk abroad in the 
 light of day without fear, the whole community must bear 
 the odium. If the Southern States have not the power or 
 the will to aiTest the perpetrators of such crimes and bring 
 them to justice, let them take the responsibility. They are 
 the agents for the punishment of evil-doers, and ought not 
 to bear the sword in vain. If they fail in their duty, it is 
 their fault, and not ours. If they will not punish violence 
 and blood, on them will rest the shame and the disgrace, 
 and theirs will be the inevitable punishment : for such 
 things cannot be done in a civilized community without 
 provoking a terrible retribution in the demoralization 
 which always follows unpunished crime. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CAPACITY OF THE NEGRO HIS POSITION IX THE 
 
 NORTH. THE COLOR LINE IN NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 I should liave more hope of the progress of the African 
 in the future, if he had made more progress in the past. 
 But his history is not encouraging. "What he has done on 
 his native continent is all a blank ; but what has he done 
 since he was transplanted to America ? — for he has been 
 here as long as the white man. The first slaves were 
 brought to Jamestown, Va., in 1619, the year before the 
 Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. Thus the two races 
 began their career together on the Western Continent, 
 and yet who can for an instant compare the achievements 
 of the one with those of the other ! During the long 
 lapse of two hundred and seventy years, the negro race 
 has not produced a single great leader. It will not do 
 to say that this has been because they were kept down. 
 A great race, numbering millions, cannot be kept down. 
 Besides, in half the country there was no effort to keep 
 them down : for slavery in the North was abolished a 
 century ago, and yet the same inferiority exists. I do not 
 mention this with any feeling of pride in the superiority 
 of the white race ; on the contrary it is with extreme 
 
132 BLACKS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 regret that I recognize the backwardness of my colored 
 brethren. But I cannot draw pictures of fancy that are 
 not borne out by facts. I must see things as they are : or 
 at least as they appear to my eyes ; and so seeing, it seems 
 to me that the few colored people that are scattered here 
 and there in the villages of New England, do not compare 
 well with some splendid old types of the race whom I knew 
 in my childhood. If the reader will indulge me in the 
 episode, I should like to give him a picture or two of pure 
 African genius half a century ago. 
 
 Although we of the North know much less of the colored 
 people than those who hve at the South (as they are so 
 much fewer in numbers here than there), yet we know 
 something of them, and I for one have personal reasons to 
 remember them with a very strong feeling, as to one of 
 that race I owe a debt which I can never repay, since she 
 took me almost from the moment that I was bom. "When 
 I opened my eyes on this world, almost the first human 
 face into which I looked wore a dark skin. As my mother 
 was very ill, and it was feared nigh unto death, I was 
 taken away from her to the Httle cabin of a poor negro 
 woman, who watched over me with a mother's tenderness ; 
 and when a few weeks later I was carried to the old 
 meeting-house to be baptized, it was in her black arms 
 that I was held, while my sainted father sprinkled the 
 water on my little head, and gave me the name of an 
 English missionary, whose fame was then in all the Chris- 
 tian world. 
 
 As this black woman, who was known by the name of 
 Mumbet (a contraction, I suppose, for Mammy Betty), 
 was no ordinary person, I may briefly tell her history. 
 She was born a slave, not far from the Hudson Kiver 
 — in what year she never knew — but was bought by 
 Col. Ashley of Sheffield, Mass., when she was still such a 
 
THE COURAGE OF MUMBET. 133 
 
 child that she was carried on the straw in the bottom of a 
 sleigh over the mountains to her home in the valley of the 
 Housatonic. As she grew up she was noted for her activ- 
 ity and courage, and her high spirit, as if the blood of old 
 African kings was flowing in her veins. She was ready to 
 do any amount of hard work, but would not submit to 
 cruelty, and on one occasion, when her mistress in a ftuy 
 of passion struck at her sister with a hot shovel, she threw 
 herself between them, and received the blow on her arm, 
 that left a scar which she carried with her to her grave. 
 From that moment she left the house ; neither commands 
 nor entreaties could induce her to return, tiH her master 
 resorted to the law to gain possession of his slave. Judge 
 Sedgwick of Stockbridge defended her, on the ground 
 that the Constitution of Massachusetts, then recently 
 adopted, had declared that " all men were born fi-ee and 
 equal." The court sustained, him, and declared that she 
 was free. Thus slavery was abolished in Massachusetts, 
 not by a direct act of legislation, but by the decision of 
 the courts. In gratitude to her defender and liberator, she 
 attached herself to his family, in which she remained for 
 many years. Devoting herself to the care of his children 
 and his property, she became his defender as he had been 
 hers. On one occasion, in Shays' KebeUion (which caused 
 so much trouble after the close of the Revolutionary War), 
 a party of insurgents came to the house to search for the 
 Judge, and went into every room, running their bayonets 
 under the beds to find him. But this old black servant, 
 who had the heart of a lioness, confronted them at every 
 step, following them up-stairs and down-stairs, into garret 
 and ceUar, armed with a huge shovel with which she could 
 have dealt a tremendous blow. Hearing them speak of 
 a favorite horse which they would take with them, she 
 flew to the stable, and led it to the road, and then with a 
 
134 MUMBET's epitaph. 
 
 blow sent it flying till it was out of sight. Thus she out- 
 witted them, and sent them away with scorn, remaining 
 " solitary and alone," j^roud mistress of the scene. 
 
 But the greatest proof of gratitude to her benefactor 
 was her devotion to his children, who, owing to the joro- 
 longed illness of their mother, were left almost wholly to 
 the care of this old family servant. Better care they could 
 not have had. So attached to her did they become, that 
 it is safe to say that, next to their mother, they loved this 
 faithful creature. 
 
 It was long after the youngest of that family had been 
 reared to manhood and womanhood, that I fell into the 
 same loving hands, and what she did for them she did for 
 me. Thus my acquaintance with the colored race began 
 very early, indeed with my very existence. And though 
 so long ago, it woidd be ungrateful even at this distance of 
 years to disown the obligation. 
 
 In the village burial ground, where are gathered in one 
 enclosiu'e the members of that distinguished family, this 
 old negro woman is laid by the side of Miss Catherine 
 Sedgwick, the celebrated authoress — I presume at her 
 request, from a natural feeling that even in death she 
 would nestle in her old nurse's arms. On the plain stone 
 that mai'ks her grave is the following inscription : 
 
 ELIZABETH FEEEMAN 
 
 known by tho name of 
 
 MUMBET 
 
 died Dec. 28, 1829. 
 
 Her supposed age was 85 years. 
 
 She was born a slave and remained a slave nearly thirty 
 
 years. She could neither read nor write, yet in her own sphere 
 
 she had no superior nor equal. She neither wasted time nor 
 
 property. She never violated a trust, nor failed to perform a 
 
 duty. In every situation of domestic trial she was the most 
 
 efficient helper and the tenderest friend. Good mother, farewell ! 
 
ANOTHER NOTED CHARACTER. 135 
 
 Was ever a more beautiful tribute paid to womanly 
 fidelity and devotion ? As I stand by that grave I think 
 what I too owe to that fidelity which "never violated a 
 trust, nor failed to perform a duty." As after her death, 
 one of the Sedgwicks, paying a tribute to her memory, 
 said, "But for her care I should not now probably be 
 living to give this testimony," so it may have been in my 
 case. When I think of this : that I may have owed my 
 life to the care that watched over my helpless infancy, I 
 cannot recall the name of that faithful woman without a 
 feeling of love and of gratitude, that predisj)oses me to a 
 kindly interest in all her unhappy race. 
 
 But the genius of those old Africans did not run wholly 
 to the woman side. There was a man in the toAvn who was 
 an equally noted character. This was "Agrippa Hull," 
 whose Hfe began towards the middle of the last century, 
 and who had been in the Revolutionary Army from near 
 the beginning to the very end of the war, though not for 
 the most pai't as a soldier, but a servant, in which capacity 
 he was for four years attached to Kosciusko, whom he 
 accompanied in his Southern campaigns. He used to tell 
 of bloody scenes that he witnessed, especially at the hard- 
 fought battle of Eutaw Springs, where his part was to hold 
 the wounded as they were laid upon the operating board 
 to have their Hmbs amputated — " the hardest day's work," 
 he said, "that he ever did in his life." 
 
 These trying scenes were sometimes varied by those of a 
 different character. He used to tell a story that reflected 
 on himself, but showed in a pleasant light the good nature 
 of Kosciusko. On one occasion the General had been 
 invited by a neighboring planter to go with him on a 
 hunting excursion, and rode off, expecting not to return 
 till the next day. Having the field all to himself, Agrippa 
 set out to make the most of it ; and arrayed himself in his 
 
136 ANECDOTE OF KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 master's uniform, with the military cap on his woolly head 
 and sword in hand, wherewith he figured as a foreign offi- 
 cer, even to imitating the broken Enghsh of the distin- 
 guished Pole — a performance that was greatly to the 
 amusement of the soldiers and camp-followers ; until 
 suddenly the General, having been overtaken and driven 
 back by a thunderstorm, rode up ! Poor Agrippa was 
 ready to sink into the earth, expecting severe punishment. 
 But to his suriDrise, the General entered into the humor ol 
 the thing, and burst into a hearty laugh, adding " This is 
 too good to keep," and immediately had his black imitator 
 mounted on a horse, and sent through the camp, to the 
 tmbounded merriment of the soldiers. This was worse than 
 being flogged or put in irons, and Agripj)a used to say that 
 he woidd rather have been drummed out of camp to the 
 tune of the Rogue's March, than be made such a laughing- 
 stock. However, the joke answered one good purpose, as 
 this mirthful scene was a rehef to grim-visaged war, and 
 made a welcome diversion to the monotonous life of soldiers 
 far from home, in the gloom of the Southern forests. 
 
 Of course Agrippa had many stories to tell of the great 
 men whom he met at the headquarters of Kosciusko. He 
 was very proud when now and then he had the honor of 
 holding the bridle for "Washington, as he mounted to ride 
 to the field. It was one of the delights of my boyish 
 days to go to the little house of this old African, and hear 
 him tell of those times of war, with all their scenes so 
 strange and stirring. 
 
 He had a great deal of mother wit, which shone out 
 most at weddings and other festive occasions, when he 
 passed round the cake and wine — for sixty years ago there 
 could be no wedding without wune : the parties would 
 hardly have thought themselves legally married. As he 
 made the circuit of the company, he had some joke for 
 
THE DEAR OLD SAINTS IN BLACK. 131 
 
 every one ; he even noticed poor little me, for I was then 
 a very minute sj)ecimen of humanity, and I counted it a 
 mark of distinction, when he patted me on the head, and 
 bestowed his approbation in the highly musical lines — 
 
 " Henry Martyn 
 Is a gentleman for sartin," 
 
 which I cherish to this day, as the first and only instance 
 in which my name has been embalmed in poetry ! 
 
 Though he knew his place perfectly, yet he could hold 
 his own with the best of white folks ; and if anybody 
 snubbed him for his color, he would not be offended, but 
 answer pleasantly that " many a good book was bound in 
 black, and that the cover did not matter so much as the 
 contents," ending the brief passage of words by asking, 
 " Which is the worse : the white black man or the black 
 white man — to be black outside or to be black inside ? " 
 
 Agrippa and Mumbet ! what a couple they make ! 
 "When I think of these dear old souls, how can I help 
 loving them ? Both ripened with age, as religion came to 
 give the crowning grace to their characters. Agrippa was 
 not, when young, at all reHgiously inclined. The army 
 was not a good school of rehgion or of morals, and many 
 of those who came back fi'om the wars were more given to 
 drinking and cursing than to prayer. But a more quiet 
 and peaceful life, with the influences of his New England 
 surroundings, made him a new man ; and in the prayer- 
 meetings no one was more fervent than AgrijDpa. The 
 memory of his past life seemed to be a constant source of 
 humiliation, and his penitence showed itself in his confes- 
 sions and prayers for forgiveness. Sometimes his language 
 was a little too strong, as when he thanked God that 
 " white folks were so kind to a poor old black nigger " ; 
 and again he used homely phrases, as when he besought 
 
138 THE MINISTER S WOOING. 
 
 tlie Lord " that every tub miglit stand on its owr bot- 
 tom " ; which, however, was not so grotesque as the prayer 
 of a noted Baj)tist jDreacher of the county — a white man 
 at that — Elder Leland, who (if we may believe the rustic 
 chroniclers of the time, and who would doubt them?) once 
 l^rayed "that we might all hitch our horses together in 
 God's everlasting stable " ! But words are little where 
 the heart is found, and quaint as might be the words of 
 poor Agripj)a, none who heard him could doubt that his 
 j^rayers went up like sweet incense to the throne ; and as 
 for Mumbet, though her shin was black, her heart was 
 white, and she too, like so many of her race, is now with- 
 out fault before the throne of God. 
 
 Of course there were not many such characters any- 
 where. But here and there the like of this old nurse 
 might be found in the early days of New England. Gen- 
 erally they were the retainers of rich families, in which 
 they had lived for years, tiU they became an important, 
 and almost necessary, part of the establishment. As I 
 have taken one instance from my own very limited expe- 
 rience, I will venture to add another from fiction, inasmuch 
 as the character is drawn from real life. Many of my 
 readers are familiar with "The Minister's Wooing," by 
 IVIrs. Stowe, the scene of which is laid in Newport : that, 
 before the Revolution and some years after, was the chief 
 Northern port for the imj^ortation of slaves from Africa ; 
 and here were found in the godly families of Puritan 
 New England, servants that had been born on the other 
 side of the ocean, on the dark slave coast ; some of whom, 
 in disproof of the common idea that native Africans are 
 all of a low type of humanity, possessed great natural 
 intelligence ; and though, like Mumbet, they " could 
 neither read nor write," showed such streng-th of char- 
 acter that they became the stay and staff of their house- 
 
CANDACE " AND THE " CATECHIZE/' 139 
 
 holds, and were "in every situation of domestic trial the 
 most efficient helpers and the tenderest friends." Such 
 an one was " Candace," * who proved herself in her new 
 sphere a true " Queen of Ethiopia." The fii'st picture we 
 have of her, presents her as " a powerfully built, majestic 
 black woman, corpulent, heavy, with a swinging majesty 
 of motion, like that of a ship in a ground swell. Her 
 shining black skin and glistening white teeth were indica- 
 tions of perfect physical vigor which had never known a 
 day's sickness : and her turban, of broad red and yellow 
 bandanna stripes, had a warm tropical glow." 
 
 This robust exterior was the fit embodiment of a mind 
 of great native independence, which did not hesitate even 
 to wrestle with the hard theological problems of the day. 
 As she was under the ministry of old Dr. Samuel Hopkins, 
 the great theologian, she was put duly through the Cate- 
 chism, or " Catechize," as she called it, in which there were 
 some things hard to be understood, and some which she 
 flatly rejected, as, for instance, being held responsible for 
 Adam's sin, to which she said : 
 
 •' I didn't do dat ar', for one, I knows. I's got good mem'ry — 
 allers knows what I does — nebber did eat dat ar' apple — nebber 
 eat a bit ob him. Don't tell me ! " 
 
 It was of no use to tell her of all the explanations of this 
 redoubtable passage — of potential presence, and representative 
 presence, and representative identity, and federal headship. She 
 met all with the dogged 
 
 "Nebber did it, I knows; should 'ave 'membered, if I had. 
 Don't tell me ! " 
 
 And even in the catechizing class of the Doctor himself, if 
 this answer came to her, she sat black and frowning in stony 
 silence even in his reverend presence. 
 
 * The original of this remarkable character, I am told, was an 
 old servant in the family of Dr. Lyman Beecher, when he lived 
 in Litchfield, Conn. 
 
140 A REMARKABLE CONVERSION. 
 
 From this error she was reclaimed by a personal 
 influence -whicli lias been known to change other than 
 dark-skinned unbelievers. It was a mysterious conversion, 
 which came in this way : 
 
 Candace was often reminded that the Doctor believed the 
 Catechism, and that she was differing from a great and good 
 man ; but the argument made no manner of impression on her, 
 till one day, a far-off cousin of hers, whose condition under a 
 hard master had often moved her compassion, came in overjoyed 
 to recount to her how, owing to Dr. Hopkins's exertions, he had 
 gained his freedom. The Doctor himself had in person gone 
 from house to house, raising the sum for his redemption; and 
 when more yet was wanting, supplied it by paying half his last 
 quarter's limited salary. 
 
 " He do dat ar' ? " said Candace, dropping the fork wherewith 
 she was spearing doughnuts. "Den I'm gwine to b'liebe ebery 
 word he does ! " 
 
 And accordingly, at the next catechizing, the Doctor's aston_ 
 ishment was great when Candace pressed up to him, exclaiming^ 
 
 "De Lord bress you. Doctor, for opening the prison for dem 
 dat is bound ! I b'liebes in you now, Doctor. I's gwine to b'liebe 
 ebery word you say. I'll say de Catechize now — fix it any way 
 you like. I did eat dat ar' apple — I eat de whole tree, an' swal- 
 lowed ebery bit ob it, if you say so." 
 
 If those who read this with a smile infer from it that 
 the faith of such a woman was a mere assent to whatever 
 she was told, they would be greatly mistaken. Religion 
 was the very core of her being, but it was a religion which 
 had an African type. It did not come through the intel- 
 lect, by any form of reasoning, but through the heart, and 
 was hence far more powerful than any conversion worked 
 out through a process of the understanding, as it enabled 
 this poor black woman to be a minister of consolation, 
 when the great divine, to whom she looked up with awe, 
 would have driven a poor, unhappy soul to despair. 
 
THE SHIPWRECKED SON. I4l 
 
 The crisis came in the family of Squire Marvin, in 
 wliich Candace lived, when the report came that a son who 
 had run away and gone to sea, had been lost. Far away 
 on the other side of the world, the ship had gone down 
 with all on board. The terrible tidings threw the poor 
 mother into an agony of despair, which was not reheved at 
 all, but rather intensified, by her religious belief, for it 
 compelled her to think that her son had not only lost 
 his life, but his soul ! The cold, hard creed of the day 
 made light of human suffering. Human beings were but 
 " worms of the dust," mere animalculse, cast into the great 
 crushing machine of the Almighty decrees, to be ground 
 to powder and blown to the winds. "What mattered it? 
 Though this " machine " crushed man to atoms ; though 
 it broke every bone in his body ; though his flesh was torn 
 and bleeding, and his very soul doomed and damned ; yet 
 the mild-eyed preacher looked on with serene complacency, 
 believing that it was all for the glory of God, in compari- 
 son with which the happiness of the whole human race was 
 not of the slightest consequence. 
 
 This might be orthodox divinity, but it was terrible for 
 a mother in agony for her son. What comfort could she 
 find in a great machine, rolling on piteously, crushing 
 human hearts and hopes? Under this strain the poor 
 woman was driven almost to insanity. Her husband, well 
 meaning (but awkward and clumsy, as men are apt to be 
 in such circumstances), came into the room, and tried to 
 take her in his arms ; but she pushed him away, with the 
 piercing shriek, " Leave me alone ! I am a lost spirit ! " 
 What followed can only be told by the writer, whose pow- 
 erful pen alone is adequate to describe the scene : 
 
 At this moment, Candace, who had been anxiously listening 
 at the door for an liour past, suddenly burst into the room. 
 
 "Lor' bress ye, Squire Marvyn, we won't hab her goin' on dis 
 
142 THE OLD BLACK AUNTY. 
 
 yer way," she said. " Do talk gospel to her, can't ye ? — ef you 
 can't, I wiU. 
 
 " Come, ye poor little lamb," she said, walking straight up to 
 Mrs. Marvyn, " come to old Candace ! " — and with that she gath- 
 ered the pale form to her bosom, and sat down and began rocking 
 her, as if she had been a babe. " Honey, darlin', ye a'n't right — 
 dar's a drefful mistake somewhar," she said. " Why, de Lord 
 a'n't like what ye tink — He loves ye, honey ! Why, jes' feel how 1 
 loves ye — poor ole black Candace— an' I a'n't better'n Him as 
 made me ! Who was it wore de crown o' thorns, lamb ? — who 
 was it sweat great drops o' blood ? — who was it said ' Father, 
 forgive dem ' ? Say, honey ! — wasn't it de Lord dat made ye ? — 
 Dar, dar, now ye'r' cryin' ! — cry away and ease yer poor little 
 heart ! He died for Mass'r Jim— loved him and died for him — jes' 
 give up His sweet, precious body and soul for him on de Cross ! 
 Laws, jes' leave him in Jesus' hands ! Why, honey, dar's de very 
 print o' de nails in His hands now ! " 
 
 The flood-gates were rent ; and healing sobs and tears shook 
 the frail form, as a faded lily shakes under the soft rains of 
 Summer. All in the room wept together. 
 
 "Now, honey," said Candace, after a pause of some minutes, 
 "I knows our Doctor's a mighty good man, an' lamed — an' in 
 fair weather I ha'n't no 'bjection to yer hearin' all about dese yer 
 great an' mighty tings he's got to say. But, honey, dey won't 
 do for you now; sick folks mus'n't hab strong meat; an' times 
 like dese, dar jes' a'n't but one ting to come to, an' dat ar's Jesus. 
 Jes' come right down to whar poor ole black Candace has to stay 
 allers — it's a good place, darlin' ! Look right at Jesus. Tell ye, 
 honey, ye can't live no other way now. Don't ye 'member how 
 He looked on His mother, when she stood faintin' an' tremblin' 
 under de Cross, jes' like you ? He knows all about mothers' 
 hearts; Ho won't break yours. It was jes' 'cause He know'd 
 we'd come into straits like dis yer, dat He Avent through all dese 
 tings — Him, de Lord o' Glory ! Is dis Him you was a-talkin' 
 about ? — Him you can't love ? Look at Him, an' see ef you can't. 
 Look an' see what He is !— don't ask no questions, an' don't go 
 to no reasonin's — jes' look at Him, hangin' dar, so sweet an' 
 patient, on de Cross ! All dey could do couldn't stop His lovin' 
 'em ; He prayed for em wid all de breath He had. Dar's a God 
 you can love, a'n't dar ? Candace loves Him — poor, ole, foolish, 
 
COMFORTING THE BROKEN-HEARTED MOTHER. 143 
 
 black, wicked Candace — an' she knows He loves her " — and here 
 Candace broke down into torrents of weeping. 
 
 They laid the mother, faint and weary, on her bed, and 
 beneath the shadow of that suffering Cross came down a healing 
 sleep on those weary eyelids. 
 
 " Honey," said Candace, mysteriously, after she had drawn 
 Mary out of the room, " don't ye go for to troublin' yer mind wid 
 dis yer. I'm clar Mass'r James is one o' de 'lect ; and I'm clar 
 dar's consid'able more o' de 'lect dan people tink. "Why, Jesus 
 didn't die for nothin' — all dat love a'n't gwine to be wasted. De 
 'lect is more'n you or I knows, honey ! Dar's de Spirit — He'll 
 give it to 'em ; an' ef Mass'r James is called an' took, depend 
 upon it de Lord has got him ready — course He has — so don't ye 
 go to layin' on your poor heart what no mortal cretur can live 
 under, 'cause, as we's got to live in dis yer world, it's quite clar 
 de Lord must ha' fixed it so we cayi, and ef tings was as some 
 folks suppose, why, we couldn't live, and dar wouldn't be no 
 sense in anyting dat goes on." 
 
 This was the very oil of consolation poured on the 
 wounds and bruises of that great agony. The poor black 
 woman had done what the learned theologian could not 
 do. To the mother in her anguish, this simple Gospel 
 was better than the whole Hopkinsian theology. Wliat 
 does one care for any " system " when the heart is break- 
 ing? It needs only to be brought into the immediate 
 presence of Christ the Consoler. It is one great gift of 
 the African nature, that it ta^es hold of the Living Person, 
 rather than of the abstract idea. It does not come to its 
 p6-' ct trust by any logical process, but by the instinct 
 of love and gratitude, clinging to the Master as a ship- 
 wrecked sailor cHngs to the life-boat in a stormy sea. 
 There are times when the tropical fervor of the African 
 " fuses " the Gospel so as to take in its vital glow and heat 
 when the larger brain of the Anglo-Saxon would remain 
 cold and insensible. 
 
 These are pleasant pictures to dwell upon of the colored 
 
144 THE COLORED PEOPLE IN NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 race in the early days of New England, recalling as they 
 do the sweet Arcadian simj)licity of that olden time which 
 has passed away. Who of my readers has not known such 
 dear old saints in black, who have long since 'gone to 
 glory," and who that remembers them can help feeling the 
 warmest regard for this simple and affectionate race ? 
 
 From the past we turn to the present, and ask for the 
 children of these fathers and mothers. "With such grand 
 characters as examples, they would seem to need only to 
 have their Umbs unbound by the abolition of slaver}-, to 
 start forward in a career of progress that should furnish 
 the decisive proof of the capacity of the African race. 
 And yet here we are doomed to a great disappointment. 
 The black man has had every right that belongs to his 
 "white neighbor : not only the natural rights which, accord- 
 ing to the Declaration of Indej^endence, belong to every 
 human being — the right to life, libeiiy, and the pva*suit of 
 happiness — but the right to vote, and to have a part in 
 making the laws. He could own his little home, and there 
 sit under his own vine and fig-tree, with none to molest 
 or make him afraid. His children could go to the same 
 common schools, and sit on the same benches, and leai-n 
 the same lessons, as white children. 
 
 With such advantages, a race that had natural genius 
 ought to have made great progress in a hundred years. 
 But where are the men that it should have produced to be 
 the leaders of their people? We find not one who has 
 taken rank as a man of action or a man of thought : as 
 a thinker or a writer ; as artist or poet ; discoverer or 
 inventor. The whole race has remained on one dead level 
 of mediocrity. 
 
 If any man ever proved himself a friend of the African 
 race it was Theodore Parker, who endured all sorts of perse- 
 cution and social ostracism, who faced mobs, and was hissed 
 
HAVE THEY MADE ANY PROGRESS ? 145 
 
 and hooted in public meetings, for his bold cliampionship 
 of the rights of the negro race. But rights are one thing, 
 and capacity is another. And while he was ready to fight 
 for them, he was very despondent as to their capacity for 
 rising in the scale of civilization. Indeed he said in so 
 many words : " In respect to the power of civilization, the 
 African is at the bottom, the American Indian next." In 
 1857 he wrote to a friend : " There are inferior races which 
 have always borne the same ignoble relation to the rest of 
 men, and always will. In two generations what a change 
 there wUl be in the condition and character of the Irish in 
 New England! But in twenty generations the negroes 
 wiU stand just where they are now ; that is, if they have 
 not disappeared. In Massachusetts there are no laws now 
 to keep the black man from any pursuit, any office that he 
 win ; but there has never been a rich negro in New Eng- 
 land ; not a man with ten thousand dollars, perhaps none 
 with five thousand doUars ; none eminent in anything, 
 except the calling of a waiter." 
 
 That was more than thirty years ago. But to-day I 
 look about me here in Massachusetts, and I see a few 
 colored men ; but what are they doing ? They work in 
 the fields ; they hoe corn ; they dig potatoes ; the women 
 take in washing. I find colored barbers and white- 
 washers, shoe-blacks and chimney-sweeps ; but I do not 
 know a single man who has grown to be a merchant or a 
 banker ; a judge, or a lawyer ; a member of the legisla- 
 ture, or a justice of the peace, or even a selectman of 
 the town. In all these respects they remain where they 
 were in the days of our fathers. The best friends of the 
 colored race — of whom I am one — must confess that it is 
 disappointing and discouraging to find that, with all these 
 opportunities, they are little removed from where they 
 were a hundred years ago. 
 
146 MORE FAVORABLE TESTIMONY. 
 
 In the above I have spoken only from my own observa- 
 tion, and am therefore equally surprised and gratified to 
 find that others, with wider opportunities, find more that 
 is hopeful and encouraging. Thus IVIi-. A. H. Grimke, a 
 colored man, who is a lawyer in Hyde Park, near Boston, 
 reports as follows : 
 
 "There are about a dozen colored lawyers in Massachusetts, 
 a majority of whom are justices of the peace. There has been a 
 colored man in the Legislature every year since 1882. Prior to 
 that period, there was a colored member of the Legislature every 
 second or third year since the close of the war. Twice during 
 these periods, two colored men were members at the same time. 
 Every year there are three or four colored members of the 
 Republican State Convention, and this year there was a colored 
 member of the Democratic State Convention as well. Mr. J. C. 
 Chappelle is at present a member of the Republican State Central 
 Committee. In my own town of Hyde Park, a colored man is 
 Sealer of Weights and Measures. If you will allow a personal 
 reference, I am one of the trustees of a public institution (the 
 Westborough Insane Hospital), recognized as one of the most 
 important in the State, and I am, in addition. Secretary of the 
 Board. The expenditures of this hospital are about $100,000 a 
 year. Judge RufBn was appointed Judge of the Charlestown 
 Municipal Court in 1883, and filled the position with credit to 
 himself and the community until his death about three years 
 afterwards. Dr. Grant is one of the best dentists in Boston, and 
 has a large practice among both races. He is a man of inventive 
 skill In his profession. His invention in relation to cleft plates 
 is well known here and elsewhere. Besides, he has been for 
 years an instructor in the Dental College connected with Harvard 
 University — mechanical dentistry being his department. John 
 H. Lewis has a merchant tailoring establishment in Washington 
 street, Boston, and does the second largest business in New 
 England. His transactions annually exceed $100,000 ; he has 
 just started a branch store in Providence, R. I. Mr. Joseph Lee 
 is owner and proprietor of one of the first-class hotels of the 
 East. The richest people of the State are guests at the Wood- 
 land Park Hotel, at Auburndale. His business is rapidly increas- 
 ing, he has already enlarged the original building, and is about 
 
NOT TWO RACES, BUT THREE. 147 
 
 to enlarge a second time to meet the increasing demands of the 
 public. The property is valued at about $120,000. Beside Mr. 
 Lewis above mentioned, there are three colored merchant tailors 
 doing a handsome business in Boston. 
 
 " In New Bedford, one of the largest and finest drug stores is 
 owned and conducted by a young colored man. In that city the 
 colored people are butchers, fruiterers, grocers, master ship- 
 builders, etc. Colored young women have taught in the public 
 schools of Boston within the past few years, and one, Miss 
 Baldwin, has been for some years one of the most popular 
 teachers in the public schools of Cambridge." 
 
 This is very gratifying : and it is from no wish to be- 
 little its significance, that I suggest, that if it be made a 
 test of the capacity of a race, it would be necessary to press 
 the inquiry a little farther. Dr. Blyden, who has himself 
 no tinge of whiteness, and is very proud of his pure African 
 blood, says : " You talk of two races, but there are three ! " 
 Such is the division in Jamaica, where they are distin- 
 gviished as the whites and the blacks and the browns ; and 
 it is said that the browns are much more particular than 
 the whites in standing aloof from the blacks. It is to the 
 credit of the mulattoes of this country, that they cast in 
 theu* lot with the weaker race, but in distinguishing what 
 is due to native genius, we must recognize that it is not 
 commonly the pure African who comes to the front. Of 
 this Mr. Grimke is himseK a proof : for the colored men 
 in the North who bear that honored name, have the best 
 white blood of South Carolina in their veins. But putting 
 every one of these to the account, how far could a dozen 
 or two of isolated individuals, go to prove the capacity of 
 a whole race, the mass of whom are still far, far behind ? 
 
 "With this experience of slow progress here in our own 
 New England, it might be in better taste to be a little 
 more guarded and careful in judging our brethren of the 
 South, where the failure of the blacks to improve their con- 
 
us EQUAL LAWS. 
 
 ditiou is ascribed to "unjust laws," to "race- prejudice," 
 to the " color-line," and to every other cause except natu- 
 ral incapacity or want of application. But can we truly 
 say that they impose hardships upon the negro fi'om which 
 he is fi'ce at the North ; that he has here rights and oppor- 
 tunities that are denied to him there ? Do a few degrees 
 of latitude make so great a difference in his position ? 
 
 The first charge in the indictment against the South, is 
 "unjust laws " ! But what laws ? Are not the laws affect- 
 ing human rights the same in all parts of the country ? 
 
 I am now writing in New England, where the very air 
 that blows over the hills is an insi^ii-ation of liberty. 
 This grand old State of Massachusetts, in which I was 
 born, is my model of a fifee commonwealth, a genuine 
 democracy of the highest kind, in which there is an abso- 
 lute equality of civil rights, and the nearest approach to 
 an equality of conditions. This is a reflection very grati- 
 fying to OTU' State pride, all the more as it is in such con- 
 trast with what we are accustomed to think of the South, 
 but just emerged from the barbarism of slavery. 
 
 But as I am indulging in this comparison, so flattering 
 to ourselves and so disparaging to others, I begin to reflect 
 that perhaps I have forgotten the changes wrought by the 
 war : the great Act of Emancipation, and the amendments 
 to the Constitution, which guarantee to all the same civil 
 rights, "without distinction of race, color, or previous 
 condition of servitude." This is broad enough to cover 
 " all sorts and conditions of men." It is the law, not for 
 one State alone, but for all ; and hence it follows that the 
 status of the negro at the South is precisely the same — 
 so far as the law is concerned — as at the North ; he has 
 exactly the same rights in South Carolina, that he has here 
 in good old Massachusetts ! 
 
 The statement put in this frank, blunt way, is somewhat 
 
GENERAL ARMSTRONG. 149 
 
 startling : it is wliat Dick Swiveller would call " an unmit- 
 igated staggerer," and we do not quite like to admit it, 
 and would not, if the words were not so plain that there 
 can he but one interpretation. 
 
 But here a friend, seeing my perplexity, comes to my 
 relief by saying " Oh, well ! it is not the law of which we 
 complain — that is all right enough ; but it is the color line 
 that runs through everything at the South — the bitter 
 prejudice against the black race — which is so unjust and 
 so cruel." 
 
 This gives a new tiu'n to my thoughts, and as I sit brood- 
 ing over it, I am hapj^y to see another friend appear, who 
 can enlighten me on the subject. It is General Armstrong, 
 the head of the famous Hampton School in Virginia. He 
 is a typical American ; born in the Sandwich Islands, 
 the son of a missionary ; educated at WiUiams College 
 in Massachusetts, which he left to enter the army, and 
 fought bravely at Gettysbirrg ; and at the end of the war 
 was placed in charge of the " contrabands " who were 
 gathered in great numbers at Fortress Monroe, out of 
 which grew in time an institution for teaching them both 
 to read and to work. To this he has given more than 
 twenty years of the hardest labor, till under his care it has 
 grown to great jDroportions ; sending out from year to 
 year hundreds of young men, with an editcation sufficient 
 to be able to teach others ; and who, at the same time, 
 while supporting themselves by manual labor, have learned 
 some useful industry, by which they can afterwards take 
 care of themselves. In carrying out this grand design. 
 General Armstrong has been a public benefactor. No man 
 in this country has done more for the education and eleva- 
 tion of the colored race. No man understands better all 
 the conditions of the Kace Problem, as it is now being 
 worked out in the Southern States. To him therefore I 
 
150 THE COLOR LINE IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 ttirn eagerly, enlarging with virtuous indignation on the 
 " color line " that is kept iip at the South and the race- 
 hatred, when I am taken aback at hearing him say that 
 " There is a great deal more antagonism between the two 
 races here at the North than at the South!" "What?" 
 I ask with surprise, almost doubting if I heard him cor- 
 rectly, when he repeats the remark as positively as before : 
 " I find much more mutual rejDulsion between the whites 
 and blacks here in Massachusetts than down in Old 
 Virginia." This was another " staggerer," which set me 
 thinking, and has kept me thinking ever since. 
 
 Is this statement true ? Can it be that there is a color 
 line in Massachusetts ? Alas ! I am afraid there is even 
 here, in dear old Stockbridge, which is so near heaven that 
 I have heard some of my neighbors say they were not impa- 
 tient to make the change. It does not show itself much, 
 because we have but few colored people ; if there were 
 more, the feeling would be more pronounced. True, they 
 have the same rights of person and jiroperty as white 
 folks. I never heard of their being subject to any injus- 
 tice because of their color. On the contrary, if anybody 
 were to attempt to do them wrong, it would be the 
 impulse of many, as it would be mine, to befriend them 
 just because they are fewer and weaker. Here then is 
 absolute equality before the law ; but that does not imply 
 social equality, of which (in the sense of social intercourse) 
 there is none. 
 
 In making these comparisons, we are able to strike a 
 balance between the North and the South as a field for the 
 negro ; and now I ask my colored brother if, looking about 
 him at the whole situation, he does not agree that, with all 
 its drawbacks and disadvantages, he has just as good a 
 chance to make a man of himself in Georgia and South 
 Carolina, as in Massachusetts or Connecticut ? 
 
EXCLUSION FROM HOTELS. 151 
 
 True, there are some things which grate harshly, such 
 as the exclusion of negroes, even though they may be men 
 of education, from places of entertainment — from hotels 
 and theatres, and seats in drawing-room cars — a griev- 
 ance so great that it has been thought deserving of a 
 special enactment for its punishment. The Civil Rights 
 bill, of which Charles Sumner was the father, and which 
 he left on his death-bed as a sacred charge to his party to 
 carry through Congress, made it a law that the blacks 
 should have the same rights in hotels and on railroads as 
 whites, disregard of which was to be punished by fine and 
 imprisonment I As the law was soon declared unconsti- 
 tutional by the Supreme Court of the United States, it fell 
 to the ground ; but if it had not, it would have been diffi- 
 cult or impossible to enforce it. Nor can we of the North 
 blame the South for this : for whether the exclusion of col- 
 ored people from hotels be right or wrong, just or unjust, 
 we cannnot reproach others for doing what we do our- 
 selves. So long as negroes are not received at the prin- 
 cipal hotels in the North, it would be a piece of pharisaical 
 hypocrisy to require that they should be at the South. 
 We must not try to enforce in the St. Charles Hotel in 
 New Orleans, what cannot be enforced in the Fifth-avenue 
 Hotel in New York ! 
 
 Why, even here in New England, we find the same 
 race-prejudice. Take our own happy valley. If a colored 
 man were to come from the city to spend a few weeks in 
 the country, and should apply for rooms at the Stockbridge 
 House, would he be received? There might be no objec- 
 tion to him personally, but the landlord, though he is one 
 of the most obliging of men, would say that the admission 
 of a colored man to the same rooms and the same table, 
 would give offence to his white guests ; and that, however 
 he might wish to do it, he could not. 
 
152 EXCLUDED FROM DRAWING-ROOM CARS. 
 
 As to equality on railways, there is more ground for 
 complaint, as cases are frequently reported in which 
 colored men, who are as decent and well-behaved as the 
 common run of white passengers, and even ministers of 
 the Gospel, are turned out of cars, for which they have 
 paid full fare, with a degree of roughness and violence 
 which has excited indignation, not only at the North, but 
 among the best men at the South. There is a plain rule 
 of justice, which ought to be recognized and enforced, \'iz: 
 that every man is entitled to what he pays for. If there 
 be on the part of the whites an unwillingness to occupy the 
 same cars and to sit in the same seats with the blacks, let 
 them be separate ; only let equally good cars be provided 
 for both, if both pay for them. In Georgia I am told that 
 this is now required by law ; but the law, it would seem, 
 does not always suffice to protect the blacks fi-om the vio- 
 lence of ruffians who invade the cars, and drive them out 
 fiom seats for which they have paid, and to which they are 
 legally entitled. Here is a case for those who have framed 
 a righteous law, to see that it is enforced. A black man's 
 money is just as good as a white man's, and if he i)ays the 
 same fare, he is entitled to the same accommodation. 
 
 Whatever inequality there may be of rights and privi- 
 leges at the South, I certainly do not mean to apologize 
 for any wrong or injustice to the colored man. I wish 
 simply to show that the color line, of which we hear so 
 much, is not peculiar to one section of the country ; that 
 it exists at the North as well as at the South ; and that, if 
 we wovdd be just, we must recognize the fact, and not 
 ascribe what we call race-prejudice to the peculiar perver- 
 sity of our Southern brethren. I ask that we judge them 
 by the same rule that we adopt for ourselves, and that we 
 do not condemn them for the very things of which we are 
 guilty. 
 
WE CANNOT FIGHT AGAINST INSTINCT. 153 
 
 As a basis of comparison, I have taken the highest 
 standard. New England is my mother, and my model of 
 all that is good. I am proud not only of the fi-eedom, 
 but of the equality, that exists among these hills, where 
 it matters not if a man be rich or poor, white or black. 
 I am willing to give to the black man every right which I 
 ask for myself ; but I cannot compel my neighbor to invite 
 him to his house ; nor indeed do I feel at liberty myself to 
 invite him to a company, in which there are those who 
 would be offended by his presence. This would be rude 
 to them, and would make all uncomfortable. A gentleman 
 must be governed by a scrupulous delicacy, and that 
 would dictate that he should not give pain on one side or 
 on the other. Social intercourse cannot be regulated by 
 law; it must be left to those natural attractions and affini- 
 ties which the Almighty has planted in our breasts. That 
 the whites should desire to keep to themselves, is not to be 
 ascribed to arrogance ; it does not even imply an assump- 
 tion of superiority. It is not that one race is above the 
 other, but that the two races are different, and that, while 
 they may live together in the most friendly relations, each 
 will consult its own happiness best by working along its 
 own lines. This is a matter of instinct, which is often 
 wiser than reason. We cannot fight against instinct, nor 
 legislate against it ; if we do, we shall find it stronger than 
 our resolutions and our laws. 
 
CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 THE EXPATRTATION" OF A WHOLE KACE. 
 
 The sbadow of the African still darkens the South, 
 casting over it a gloom, by which some are so burdened 
 and oppressed with the foreboding of what may come 
 hereafter, that they mildly propose, as the only remedy 
 for the danger, to remove the race altogether. If the 
 negro is left to multiply in the land, he may become too 
 powerful, and so let us get rid of him while we may by his 
 wholesale expatriation. Thus Senator Hampton of South 
 Carolina, speaking of a movement of the negroes from 
 some of the cotton States, says : "An extensive exodus 
 would be an inconvenience to the South, but not an injuiy. 
 "We would gladly see the colored people move elsewhere, 
 and we should be willing to suffer any reduction of repre- 
 sentation that might result from their departure. It would 
 dej)rive us of much of our labor, and make it a little harder 
 for the present generation ; but it would be the salvation 
 of the future. I do not wish any harm to the negroes, but 
 I would sacrifice whatever votes we get in the Electoral 
 College or in Congress by reason of them, if they would 
 go off by themselves. I would gladly vote to appropriate 
 $50,000,000 for the purchase of Cuba, or some other place 
 for them to settle in." 
 
WHERE SHALL THE NEGRO GO ? 15& 
 
 This is certainly very generous — to offer a -whole race, 
 which it is proj^osed to exile, all the world in which to 
 choose a home, except the country in which they were 
 born, and the only country that they know under the sun ! 
 But by what right do we make this startling proposal? 
 Has the Creator given it to us thus to dispose of different 
 portions of the earth ? God has formed the world for the 
 habitation of men — not of one race only, but of all the 
 tribes and kindreds of mankind. Has He given to the 
 Anglo-Saxon an exclusive right to lord it over this conti- 
 nent, and to expel all races but his own ? First, to drive 
 out the Indian from his forests and his hunting-grounds; 
 and then, after having imported the African to be a slave, 
 and kept him in bondage for eight generations, to turn 
 him adi'ift, to seek a home in the West Indies, or in the 
 pestilential swamps of South America ? The descendants 
 of the Africans who were landed at Jamestown, Virginia, 
 in 1619, are as pure " native Americans " as the proud de- 
 scendants of the Huguenots, who settled in South Cai'olina. 
 On what ground can the latter invite the former to depart, 
 and leave the continent to them alone ? 
 
 But as this suggestion of " getting rid " of the black 
 race is made in other quarters, and in all seriousness, it is 
 worth considering what it implies. 
 
 You who wovJd expatriate the negro, tell us. Where 
 shall he go? Two generations since, it was the belief of 
 many good peoj^le that the Africans had been brought to 
 America to be Christianized, and were now to be returned 
 to their native land, to be the heralds of the Gospel over 
 the Dark Continent. The idea had been conceived in the 
 last century by Dr. Samuel Hopkins, that brave old cham- 
 pion of the faith and of human liberty. In his parish at 
 Newport (which might have been called Slave-port, from 
 the number of cargoes of slaves that were landed there 
 
156 COLONIZATION IN AFRICA. 
 
 from Africa), his soul was kindled with indignation ; and 
 he longed to see the day when these unhappy cliildren of 
 an oppressed race should be sent back to the land from 
 which they had been torn. But he did not live to see his 
 hoj^e fulfilled. After his death, the j)roject was revived by 
 some of the best men in the country, such as Bishop 
 Meade and Charles F. Mercer of Virginia, and Rev. Dr. 
 Finley of New Jersey; and in 1816 a Society was organ- 
 ized, with the great name of Washington (Bushrod Wash- 
 ington) as its President. A deputation was sent to Africa 
 to select a ^ite for a colony, and chose the best on the 
 western coast, with five or six hundred miles on the 
 Atlantic, and extending three hundred miles into the 
 interior. Instead of being all swamps and jungle, it was a 
 high, rolling country, with hills covered with forests, and 
 a number of navigable streams. In 1820 eighty-six colo- 
 nists were sent out, and in the coiirse of a few years it 
 had transported ten thousand free colored people. In 
 1847 it was organized as an independent Rej)ublic, to 
 which was fitly given the name of Liberia. Then, as for 
 many years before and after, it bore the illustrious name 
 of Henry Clay as its President. It seemed a most benign 
 and happy project; and when, now and then, a ship sailed 
 away, bearing a reinforcement to the colony, devout men 
 and women gathered on her deck, and sang hymns, and 
 offered prayers and thanksgivings, in blissful hope that the 
 day of Africa's redemption was drawing nigh. But since 
 the foundation of the colony, seventy years have passed, 
 and the day does not seem to be much neai-er than before. 
 Since the war the Colonization Society has faded from 
 the public notice so entirely that many will be surjDrised 
 to learn that it is still in existence. But the visitor at 
 Washington, as ho rides down Pennsylvania avenue, will 
 see its sign still on the corner, where it has hung so long; 
 
THE REPUBLIC OF LIBERIA. 15T 
 
 and once or twice a year (perhaps oftener) it sends a small 
 contingent to the shores of Africa. Nor is the work that 
 it has done to be despised: for it is no small thing to plant 
 a colony which, in spite of all obstacles, still lives, and has 
 grown strong; which has a good government, with schools 
 and churches, with eighteen or twenty thousand people 
 born in America, or their descendants, forming the nucleus 
 of a civilized and Christian State; and that has a milHon of 
 natives under its beneficent rule. This is a great deal to 
 be accomplished within three-score years and ten — the 
 life-time of a man — and is worth all that it cost. 
 
 As such, Liberia will remain a beacon-light on the 
 Afi'ican coast, to attract all who may wish to go. But 
 their going should be a matter of perfect liberty. Whoso 
 is " called," either by Providence or his own inward yearn- 
 ing for the land of his fathers, let him go. But let no 
 man be compelled to choose what seems to him exile from 
 the land of his birth. If of his own unfettered will he 
 elects to go, let him depart with the blessing of all Chris- 
 tian people upon him, assured that on the other side of the 
 ocean he will find a home and a welcome, and may become 
 a missionary of civilization and Christianity to a continent. 
 To those who thus go as volunteers, the change may be a 
 good one, and their coming may be a valuable accession 
 to the colony ; but as reducing the colored population in 
 this country, the effect would be infinitesimal. 
 
 To anticipate anything beyond this limited and volun- 
 tary emigration, seems to me quite visionary. I know 
 that a high authority, a man of great intelligence and 
 learning. Dr. Edward W. Blyden (a full-blooded African, 
 though born in the West Indies), who has spent the 
 greater part of his life in Liberia, argues that colonization 
 on the widest scale is the true, and indeed the only, exit 
 for the negro race. He says in so many words that the 
 
158 A WHOLE RACE CANNOT CROSS THE SEA. 
 
 only hope of tlie African is in Africa ; that so long as he 
 remains in America, he must be an inferior; but that once 
 transferred across the sea, "the whole boundless conti- 
 nent" is his, in which to build cities and found empires. 
 He does not tell us how it has happened that the African 
 race has held the continent, to the exclusion of all other 
 races, for hundreds and thousand of years, having had at 
 one time the benefit of the highest civilization, when 
 Northern Africa was a part of the Roman Empire; but 
 that, instead of building cities and founding empires, it 
 has sunk to the lowest degree of barbarism. 
 
 The project of a general emigration to Africa as a final 
 settlement of the Race Question, may therefore be dis- 
 missed as a beautiful dream — beautiful indeed, but none 
 the less a dream. The undertaking is beyond the power 
 of all the Southern States combined, even supported by 
 the resources of the National Government. The thing is 
 physically impossible. There are not ships enough in all 
 the navies and all the commerce of the world, to transport 
 seven millions of human beings — men, women, and chil- 
 dren — across the Atlantic. What heavj'-laden fleets would 
 need to accompany this Grand Ai'mada, to feed the poor 
 creatures on their miserable voyage! And then, when 
 landed, what would you do with them? You could not 
 leave them to perish. You must prepare the way for 
 them by subduing the forests, and clearing the jungle 
 along the coast for hundreds of miles ; you must plant 
 millions of acres, and build towns and cities for human 
 habitation ; while the Afi'ican fever — a destroyer more ter- 
 rible than all the lions on the continent — would lay the 
 miserable exiles by tens of thousands in their graves. I 
 do believe that one half of all the emigrants would die the 
 first year, and the other half the next. This would be a 
 settlement of the negro question by universal destruction. 
 
COLONIZATION AT HOME. 159 
 
 But tlie idea of colonization is not one conceived only 
 in the brains of the old masters, eager to expel the poor 
 people whom they can no longer control — a decree of 
 banishment to be passed by the State Legislatures or the 
 National Government, and carried out by the arm of the 
 law, no matter what degree of suffering it may inflict ; it 
 is a favorite idea with many of the colored people them- 
 selves, who, feeling that they have no home here, that they 
 must always be an inferior race, cast their eyes round the 
 horizon, to see if they can find some place of refuge. 
 Some colonies have already been sent to Kansas, where 
 they are reported as doing fairly well ; others seek homes 
 farther south, in the less occupied parts of Texas, or it 
 may be even across the border in Mexico. 
 
 To such movements it seems to me the whites should 
 interpose no obstacle, but rather aid those to whom they 
 have stood in such close relations, and bid them fareweU 
 in the sincere hope that they may find happiness in the 
 new homes to which they are bound. But here, as in the 
 emigration to Africa, the few that go make no perceptible 
 reduction of the mass that remain. The emigrants go in 
 small companies, by dozens or by scores, that are not 
 missed by those that are left behind. What impression 
 can these little detachments make upon a population that 
 is increasing at the rate of over a hundred thousand a 
 year? 
 
 But Senator Hampton suggests a nearer home for the 
 exiled race. Let us buy Cuba, which is but a few hours' 
 sail from our coast, and transport them there, where they 
 coidd have the island all to themselves, and govern their 
 own country in their own way. This looks more feasible, 
 but the result, I believe, would show that the black race 
 cannot stand alone — separate from the help and guidance 
 of the more intelligent white race. In the "West Lidies 
 
160 A PURE AFRICAN STATE. 
 
 there has been already an experiment of a government by 
 blacks, the history of which is "svritten in blood. Do we 
 desire to turn the fair island of Cuba into another St. 
 Domingo ? 
 
 But some think these dangers might be guarded against, 
 and the experiment made a success, if the emigrant popu- 
 lation were to retain a political connection with us, not 
 as a colony under the protection of the United States, 
 but as an integral part of the Union. One of the most 
 distinguished men of Georgia, who has given a great deal 
 of attention to this subject, recently explained to me in 
 some detail the plan which he would like to see brought 
 forward in Congress, and adopted by the Government. 
 It was briefly this : that we should purchase from Mexico 
 one or two of its outlying provinces, covering a territory 
 as large as Texas, to which should be removed the negro 
 population of the Soiithern States, where they should be 
 a people by themselves, their own masters in every re- 
 spect, forming a pure African State, with no intermixture 
 of alien blood. This would relieve the feeling of humilia- 
 tion from which their young men of high spirit now su£fer : 
 for they would have open to them all the honors and dig- 
 nities of the State ; they could be governors and judges 
 and legislators. The State would be as "sovereign and 
 independent " as Georgia and Virginia. As such, it would 
 send its representatives to Congress, where they would be 
 no longer looked upon with a race-jealousy. On the con- 
 trary, a black senator would be a picturesque object, as 
 much as if he were a Moor from Afi'ica, and would be 
 looked upon with the same admiring curiosity that we 
 now bestow upon a Chinese or Japanese ambassador. 
 
 So reasoned this delightful Southerner. The picture 
 which he drew was so dazzling that I did not wonder that 
 it blinded him to all the difficulties in the way, which 
 
A COLONY IN CENTRAL AMERICA. 161 
 
 melted before his ardent imagination like mists before the 
 rising sun. If Mexico would not sell us a portion of her 
 territory, there was land enough to be had for the asking, 
 or for purchase, and the price was nothing to a coiintry 
 rich as ours. In what is known as Central America there 
 are two States, Honduras and Nicaragua, either of which 
 is larger than the island of Cuba, the former having 50,000 
 square miles, and the latter 58,000 — both magnificently sit- 
 uated between the two oceans, with vast coast-lines open- 
 ing on the Atlantic and the Pacific ; while Guatemala has 
 44,000 square miles, and yet (although its population is 
 reckoned at nearly two millions), it has but 20,000 whites. 
 The country, in fact, is said virtually to belong to a few 
 Spanish families, that perhaps might be induced to part 
 with their possessions for a reasonable consideration. 
 Even little Costa Rica, with but 21,500 square miles, is 
 a good deal larger than Massachusetts, Connecticut, and 
 Rhode Island put together. Here then are four States, 
 all in that tropical climate which is suited to the negro. 
 May not one of them be finally the Promised Land for the 
 Lost Tribes of our African Israel ? 
 
 This is indeed a brilliant scheme, but which, I think, 
 would encounter both a material and moral objection that 
 would be fatal. If it is to be carried out by the General 
 Government, it must have the support of the North, whose 
 people form a very large majority of the whole population 
 of the country. Now the Northerners are a careful and a 
 prudent race, and before entering into such an enterprise, 
 would scrutinize it very carefully, and would soon conclude 
 that it would not only cost more than a dozen Panama 
 Canals, but that it would be very doubtful in its results. 
 But, behind and above all, is the moral sentiment of the 
 North, that would never consent that the colored popula- 
 tion should be removed in any other way than by their 
 
163 EXPATRIATION A BLOW TO THE SOUTH. 
 
 own free clioice. Here, as in tlie case of whoever wislies 
 to seek a home in Liberia, the countr j would say : If you 
 desire to go out from among us, go, and the blessing of 
 Him who is the God of all the races of men, go with you ! 
 But you shall go as a freeman, as an emigrant, and not as 
 an exile ! 
 
 Suppose then, before this gen-eral deportation is begun, 
 it should be left to the negroes themselves to vote upon it, 
 what do our Southern friends think their choice would be ? 
 They are not a venturesome and enterprising race, ready, 
 like the sea-rovers of the North, to start off on great expe- 
 ditions, and sail away to plant colonies on distant shores ; 
 and however they might listen with wonder to the fasci- 
 nating story of the palm-groves and the free-and-easy life 
 to which they were to be transported, when it came to the 
 point of breaking away, they would draw back and linger 
 about the old plantations, rather than seek new homes in 
 some unknown " land of the sun." 
 
 If the sanguine projectors of these grand schemes of 
 expatriating a whole race, are siurprised and disappointed 
 that the negroes do not eagerly accept the offer, they may 
 yet find their disappointment a blessing : for this removal 
 of the blacks would be the greatest possible calamity to 
 the South, as it would take away at a blow what is the 
 first necessity in every civilized country : a vast laboring 
 population — a race especially fitted to the climate and ac- 
 customed to the labor. Take the African from the rice 
 and the cotton fields, and the sugar plantations, and in 
 spite of the golden visions of Mr. Wade Hampton, a large 
 part of Georgia and Mississippi and Louisiana would re- 
 lajDse into a howling wilderness. Thus expatriation would 
 be, not a blessing, but an unspeakable curse — a curse to 
 both races, as the banishment of one would be the ruin of 
 the other. Nor is there any need to resort to a measure 
 
THE NEGRO IS HERE TO STAY. 163 
 
 SO extreme and so cruel. The two races are necessary to 
 each other, and any policy which would divide them and 
 separate them, would entail untold misery on succeeding 
 generations; and therefore I protest against aU schemes 
 of banishing the negroes from the soil on which they were 
 born. A race that has been here for two hundred and 
 seventy years, and that has multiplied till it has become 
 like the stars of heaven for multitude, is not to be driven 
 off the continent into the sea, or beyond it, at the bidding 
 of any power. When I hear the politician casting words 
 of contempt and of ignominy upon the negro, and pre- 
 dicting that he will " die out," and perish from off the 
 New World in which he has lived so long, I see a dusky 
 figure rising up in the gloom of the Southern forests, and 
 hear the voice of one who believes in his race, and in 
 Almighty God as its Protector, making answer, " I shall 
 not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord ! " 
 
 Is it not time to drop these visionary projects, and to 
 recognize the hard fact, however unpleasant it may be, 
 that the negro is here, and here to stay? He has as good 
 a right to be here as we have. He was born on this side 
 of the Atlantic. He knows no more of Afi-ica than we do, 
 nor half as much. The only country he knows under the 
 broad canopy of heaven, is America. Has he not a right 
 to say, " Here my fathers have lived for many generations ; 
 here was I born ; here were my children born ; and here, 
 by God's help, wiU we live, and here wiU we die " ? 
 
 Recognizing this fact as one that cannot be changed by 
 any amount of agitation or of legislation, the only ques- 
 tion is, Whether the two races, white and black, can live 
 side by side without constant collision ? Some wUl tell us 
 that it is simply impossible ; that the juxtaposition of two 
 races, ahen to each other in nature as in blood, yet living 
 on the same soil and having the same political rights. 
 
164 CANNOT THE TWO RACES LIVE TOGETHER ? 
 
 means perpetual -vrar — a war like tbat between the Span- 
 iard and tbe Moor, whicli lasted for eight hundi-ed years, to 
 end, like that, only in the extermination of the one or the 
 other. Is this the inevitable doom of the black race ? Or 
 is it possible that the two races should Hve through all the 
 coming generations, not only the closest of neighbors, but 
 the best of friends? This is the Eace Problem which con- 
 fronts us to-day — the most difficult and perplexing prob- 
 lem that ever stood across the ascending path of a great 
 nation. We are making a tremendous experiment, and 
 one, some tell us, foredoomed to failure. If so, then civil- 
 ization is a failure ; and, what is worse, Christianity is a 
 failure. But we shall not fail. Our faith is in God and 
 in the American people. He who guided our fathers in 
 all the crises of their history, will not forget us in this 
 supreme moment of anxiety and of fear. He wiU still 
 lead us on through this last great danger, to the end 
 that oau' government may be " settled uj)on the best and 
 surest foundations ; that peace and happiness, truth and 
 justice, rehgion and piety, may be established among us 
 for all generations." 
 
CHAPTER XTEL 
 
 LOOKING FORWARD. 
 
 From the dark background of a gloomy past, it is a 
 relief to turn our eyes towards a brighter future. It is a 
 quarter of a century since the negro received his freedom. 
 Since then he has been, as it were, on trial, to prove 
 whether he was worthy of the liberty that was given him, 
 or whether it were better that he had been kept in slavery. 
 And with aU his imperfections, I think he has stood the 
 test pretty well. He has proved himself, not only a good 
 hand at his old business of the shovel and the hoe, but has 
 shown a good deal of " grit " and " staying power." He 
 has not died out, as some of his kind friends were sure 
 that he would do as soon as he was left to himself ; but, 
 on the contrary, his descendants have multiplied hke the 
 children of Israel in the land of Egypt. Nor has he shown 
 himself the indolent creature that we were told he would 
 be as soon as the pressure of servitude was taken off. 
 True, there are numbers of idle, shiftless, woi-thless negroes, 
 lying about the streets of every city and large town in the 
 South, just as there are numbers of idle, shiftless, and 
 worthless white men in our Northern cities, that could be 
 spared without a loss to civilization. Those who prophesied 
 
166 THE NEGRO INDUSTRIOUS. 
 
 his helpless and hopeless indolence as soon as he was set 
 free, forgot that he would come under another pressure 
 the moment that he had to take care of himself. In the 
 old days, when " Master " provided everj^ihing, he could 
 lie about, and feign sickness, and shu'k his day's task ; but 
 when it came to this, that " if he did not work, neither 
 should he eat," he began to stir himself, and has worked 
 to some purpose, in proof of which it is necessary to give 
 but one single fact : that in Georgia the negroes are taxed 
 on property to the amount of ten millions of dollars! As 
 the property subject to taxation is generally estimated at 
 little more than half its real value, this would indicate that 
 the negroes of one Southern State are to-day worth twenty 
 millions of dollars ! This does not look like idleness and 
 waste in the years that they have been fi-ee. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that all these well-to-do blacks 
 are mere laborers on the old plantations. Many of them 
 are mechanics, wherein they have an advantage over their 
 brethren at the North. In New York city there are few 
 colored mechanics, and these work in a very small way. 
 General Armstrong recently said to me : " Northern com- 
 petition is harder on the negro than Southern prejudice." 
 Colored men here complain bitterly of the way in which 
 they are driven out of aU the better class of trades. They 
 say that not one of them can find emj)loyment in any store 
 or shop ; nor be an apprentice to learn a trade ; indeed 
 that they cannot do anything excej^t the most menial labor. 
 The cases recently given us by Mr. Grimke would show 
 that it is somewhat better in New England ; yet even 
 The Congregationalist of Boston says : 
 
 " The difficulties in the way of just treatment of the negro 
 are not confined to the South. In some respects he is not so 
 weU off in the Northern States. It is affirmed that even in 
 Boston hardly a single colored boy can bo found learning a trade, 
 
COLORED SCHOOLS IN THE SOUTH. IGT 
 
 because, except hotel-waiting, boot-blacking, and barbering, the 
 trades are all closed against him. No negroes, with a single 
 exception, were observed in the ranks of the processions repre- 
 senting the different trades on Labor Day. In the South they 
 are shut out of hotels, and compelled to ride in inferior railway- 
 cars ; but they can learn trades without hindrance. Such a state 
 of things is not a credit to Northern civilization." 
 
 In Georgia the negroes find no sucli barriers in theii" 
 way. They can enter any trade, and, if they become 
 sldlled mechanics, can find plenty to do. Their old mas- 
 ters, instead of a feeling of resentment at their being free, 
 seem to like to have them about, and encourage them 
 in every way. This is greatly to their honor. When we 
 think how many of these old masters were themselves 
 impoverished, and some of them literally beggared, by the 
 war, it shows a generous disposition that they take so 
 kindly to the new situation ; and it may be in part as- 
 cribed to their friendly counsel, as well as to the industry 
 of the blacks, that so many of the latter have got along so 
 well, and been able to make themselves comfortable and 
 independent. 
 
 But the brightest light on the Southern horizon, is the 
 education of the colored race. Before the war this was 
 unknown. A few house-servants might be taught to read 
 and wi'ite, to make them more useful in the business of 
 their masters ; but anything like a general education of 
 the blacks, would have been viewed with alarm. Indeed a 
 school for teaching them, however small, even if it were 
 on a plantation, and conducted by members of the plant- 
 er's own family, was an object of suspicion. A servile 
 race must not be allowed to become intelligent. Ideas 
 are explosive. For this reason schools for the blacks were 
 forbidden by law. But when the war was over, this was 
 one of the first things that engaged the attention of phil- 
 anthropic people at the North ; and teachers were sent 
 
168 A MAGNIFICENT SCHOOL SYSTEM. 
 
 South, who, at the cost of social ostracism in the commu- 
 nities into which they went, began the work of negro 
 education. 
 
 But these schools, few and scattered as they were, 
 could make but little impression on the mass of the 
 colored population. All together, they could reach but a 
 fraction of the children. It was reserved for the South 
 itself to do the work on a much grander scale. Governor 
 Gordon of Georgia, in a recent address, says: "When her 
 people secured possession of the State government, they 
 found about six thousand colored pupils in the public 
 schools, and her school exchequer bankrupt. To-day, 
 instead of six thousand, we have over one hundred and 
 sixty thousand colored pupils in the public schools, with 
 the exchequer expanding and the schools multiplying year 
 by year ! " If it be said that the negroes themselves are 
 taxed for these schools, I answer : " Yes, they pay one- 
 thirtieth of the expense ; the other twenty-nine-thirtieths 
 are paid by the whites ! " 
 
 Nor is Georgia alone in this work. The same spirit 
 is reported in South Carolina and Tennessee, and other 
 of the more thickly-settled States ; so that in all the 
 South there are no less than sixteen thousand colored 
 schools! Of course the burden of supporting all these 
 is enormous, especially upon States that are not rich. It 
 is to the honor of the North that she has claimed a share 
 in this truly national work. There is the Peabody Fund, 
 and the Slater Fund, and the Hand Fund, besides hun- 
 dreds of thousands of dollars that are given every year. 
 But after all is said and done, the greater part of the 
 burden has to be borne by the South, and to her belongs 
 the honor, which no Northerner should be so base as to 
 try to take from her. Let her have the fuU glory of this 
 magnificent work, done in such a magnificent way. 
 
EVERY RIGHT BUT THE VOTE ! 169 
 
 After such an exhibition of kindness and generosity, it 
 would seem as if the South was ready to do everything for 
 the negro — to give him every right, every opportunity, and 
 every privilege possessed by the whites. Yes ! yes 1 every 
 right but one — that of the ballot ! Even to this they have 
 no objection when he is in a hopeless minority, so that his 
 vote " can do no harm." But the moment he is in the 
 majority, he becomes dangerous. Now there are four 
 Southern States — South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, 
 and Louisiana — in which he outnumbers the whites, so 
 that a combination of the black voters would give them 
 the election of the Governor and Legislature, and thus 
 the control of the State. Here in these States any attempt 
 on their part to exercise the right of suffrage on a large 
 scale, and thus to gain political power, is to be resisted to 
 the last extremity. 
 
 My readers do not need to be told that I have never 
 been in favor of universal suffrage among whites or 
 blacks — among the ignorant creatures who arrive here by 
 every ship from Europe, or the equally ignorant negroes 
 of the South ; and I still adhere to that opinion, even 
 though the country has, in both cases, decided otherwise. 
 A man who is defeated always thinks he is right : he may 
 at least be allowed that small privilege, when those who 
 differ from him have won their case. It is too late to 
 argue the matter now. Good or bad, wise or unwise, the 
 thing is done, and cannot be undone. If a ship is over- 
 taken by a storm in the middle of the ocean, and in dan- 
 ger of going to the bottom, none but cowards would sit 
 down in the cabin, and lament the foUy of setting out on 
 the voyage. The duty is to save the ship ! 
 
 So in the present case. Everybody now sees that the 
 giving of the vote to raw immigrants, who could not even 
 speak our language, was a stupendous folly ; but what are 
 
no MUST BE TAKEN FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. 
 
 we going to do about it ? Mr. McCullocli tliinks Congress 
 should pass a law requiring tliem to reside here a number 
 of years before being natui-alized and allowed to vote. 
 That would be indeed a wise precaution, but it is easier 
 said than done. It will not be easy to pass such a law, for 
 the op230sition will come fi'om the places where such 
 restriction is most needed, viz: in the great cities, where 
 demagogues find this ignorant mass of foreign voters the 
 very material which they wish to use. 
 
 Nor is there any more hope that the vote will be taken 
 from the blacks at the South, than from the newly import- 
 ed Irish at the North. I know that some cling to such an 
 idea, and measures have been proposed to this end. 
 There is indeed one way in which it could be done, 
 that would be fair and just to aU parties, by which our 
 Southern fi'iends could be immediately disembarrassed of 
 the negro vote, viz : by passing a law to restrict the ballot 
 to those who can read and write, and who have some 
 small amount of property. This would not be universal 
 suffrage, but it would be impartial suffrage, which would 
 be far better. But this change is opposed by the politi- 
 cians, on the ground that it would exclude thousands of 
 the whites who are as ignorant as the blacks ! So there is 
 no hope of relief from that source. Universal suffrage is 
 the law, and such it will remain, and we have got to take it, 
 for better, for worse. We are in for it, and must make the 
 best of it. 
 
 This is the situation which the South has to contem- 
 plate. Her leading men are old soldiers, trained to mili- 
 tary discij)Kne, and they know that the only way to meet 
 danger, is to look it squarely in the face. They cannot run 
 away from it if they would, nor is that the temper of men 
 whose courage has been proved on many a battle-field. 
 In the same cool and determined spirit the South should 
 
WHAT WILL THE SOUTH DO ABOUT IT ? HI 
 
 understand the dimensions of the power that it has to deal 
 with, before it enters on a struggle in which it may have 
 to measure strength, not only with a subject race, but with 
 a whole nation behind it. It would therefore simplify the 
 situation, if it would recognize the fact, which it can no 
 longer ignore, that the policy of the country in regard to 
 the civil lights of the negro is settled, and will not be 
 changed. 
 
 The only question that remains is. What is the South 
 going to do about it? Will it accept the situation, and 
 make the best of it ? Or will it try to nuUify the law by 
 fraud, by miscounting of the vote, or by violence and 
 intimidation ? I do not like to ask this question, as it is a 
 sore point at the South, whose people sometimes think it 
 a great impertinence in us at the North to trouble our- 
 selves BO much about Southern elections. We beg to 
 assiire them that we have no disposition to meddle in what 
 is none of our business. We believe in home rule for 
 Georgia as well as for New York, and that in the manage- 
 ment of her political affairs the South must work out her 
 own salvation. At the same time we cannot forget that 
 the North and the South are parts of one country ; mem- 
 bers of the same body ; and that if one member suffer, all 
 the members suffer with it ; and that political demoraliza- 
 tion cannot prevail in half a dozen States without poison- 
 ing the whole national life. 
 
 I admit that the South has reason to distrust the col- 
 ored vote. It has had one experience of negro rule, and 
 once was enough. A friend recently told me of an inci- 
 dent within his own personal knowledge. It was some 
 years since, in a town in Mississippi, where the blacks 
 being largely in the majority, swept the board, electing 
 none but negroes, save one who was a carpet-bagger — a 
 combination that went to work at once to loot the town, 
 
112 A KICE SCHEME OF PLUNDER. 
 
 beginning operations by imposing a tax of twenty-five per 
 cent, "for municipal purposes " ! As tile wliites had been 
 so impoverished by the war that they could not pay, the 
 next step was to put up their lands and houses to be sold 
 for taxes, which the carpet-bagger, being the only man 
 who had any money, stood ready to buy ! Here was as 
 nice a scheme of plunder as ever was planned, which the 
 old masters met in the only way possible : seeing that 
 they had fallen into the hands of a gang of thieves, they 
 went to the chief brigand, and putting together aU they 
 could rake and scrape, bought him off by paying him 
 blackmail, giving up a part of the little they had to save 
 the rest I 
 
 Such performances shock all our ideas, not only of de- 
 cent government, but of civilized society ; and we do not 
 wonder that men of sjoirit and independence will not sub- 
 mit to what is no better than highway robbery. But this 
 was an extreme case, from which it will not do to draw a 
 general rule — one that will justify the same " buying off" 
 whenever it is needed to carry an election. One of the evil 
 consequences of universal negro suffrage, is that it has be- 
 gotten such a general demoralization in poHtical matters, 
 that buying votes is not only winked at, but done openly, 
 without the least scruple ; with no conscience about it, as 
 if it involved anything wrong. I cannot get over the im- 
 pression made at hearing one of the most intelligent and 
 honorable gentleman I met in the South, say, " The negro 
 Yote is easily controlled by the use of money." It was a sur- 
 prise, and a painful one : for while money breaks no bones, 
 it works fearful mischief upon one's manliness. Indeed 
 few things are more demoralizing than bribery. It is not, 
 like mercy, "twice blessed," but twice cursed, in "^him 
 that gives and him that takes." 
 
 But this is not the worst of the case. There are de- 
 
NO APOLOGY FOR CRIME. 173 
 
 grees in evil ; and bad as it may be to bribe a mar), it is 
 still worse to kiU him. Yet to this extent has the race- 
 hatred sometimes gone, by which the worst men in the 
 South have placed themselves, and the States of which they 
 are taken (very unjustly it may be) to be fair representa- 
 tives, beyond the pale of Northern sympathy or supj)ort. 
 Do our Southei-n friends realize how hard such violence 
 makes it for their fiieuds at the North to defend them? 
 The intelhgent peoj^le in New York and in New Eng- 
 land fully appreciate the difficulties of the South, and are 
 ready to make all reasonable excuses and palliations. But 
 no sooner do we get the temper of the Northern mind a 
 little subdued, than there comes a story of a negro shot in 
 cold blood, or a white man assassinated for no other rea- 
 son than that he voted the Republican ticket, and all our 
 arguments are knocked into flinders. "We cannot apolo- 
 gize for such dastardly crimes ; nor can we keep our own 
 blood from boiling when we hear of them. Those who 
 connive at them, play into the hands of the most fiery 
 element at the North. If Southern politicians wish to 
 keep the North solid against them, they have but to let 
 their Ku Klux Klans and " Regulators " continue to fur- 
 nish fuel to kindle the fires of popular indignation. 
 
 I have had many talks with Southern men in regard to 
 these matters, in which they have spoken with the utmost 
 frankness. They aU deprecate violence, and regret any 
 violations of law. They admit that it is a hard necessity 
 which compels them to extreme measures for their own 
 protection. But they say, " Self-preservation is the fii-st 
 law of nature. We must fight fire with fire. If we can- 
 not keep our self-government in one way, we must in an- 
 other. It is all that is left us, and we should be less than 
 men if we did not fight for it." Sometimes a planter 
 describes his own situation, surrounded by blacks, whose 
 
114 IS THERE NOT A BETTER W AY ? 
 
 votes would quite overwhelm him and aU the whites he 
 could muster ; and then he turns to me abruptly, and says, 
 "Put yourself in my 2:>lace I what would you do ? Would you 
 let everything go to rmn, or do aU in your power to pre- 
 vent it ? " This is an embarrassing question, and if, through 
 dehcacy, I remain silent, he will 2:)erha2DS think that it ad- 
 mits of but one answer, and justifies any measure of re- 
 pression or suppression of what would prove so great a 
 calamity. "Wherefore candor compels a rej)ly. 
 
 As my Southern friends are so frank with me, they will 
 not be offended if I am equally frank with them. They 
 know me, not only as a personal friend, but as a friend of 
 their people. Perhaps I may presume so far on my friend- 
 ship as to say a few words in the utmost kindness to those 
 whose prosperity is very near to my heart. 
 
 Is there not a better way to deal with the negro vote 
 than to suppress it, viz : to admit it, and see if you can- 
 not control it by some legitimate means ? You say, " This 
 is a white man's government, and we will never submit to 
 be ruled by an inferior race." Very well ! Certainly one 
 who himself belongs to the white race, will not object to 
 its retaining its supremacy if it be by fair means, by su- 
 perior intelligence or character ; but he does object to a 
 supremacy that can only be kept by fi'aud and by force. 
 
 Suppose you should try an exjDeriment. At the risk 
 of your smHing at my simplicity, I will ventiu'e to ask, 
 Is there not a way of giving the negroes some sort of 
 political education ? If I were an old planter, surround- 
 ed by my former slaves, it seems to me (perhaps if I had 
 iried it, I should be a sadder and a wiser man) that I 
 would not only put no obstacle in the way of their voting, 
 but encourage them to vote — only I would try to persuade 
 them to vote what I thought the right ticket. Some may 
 think it useless to waste argument on those who are so 
 
EDUCATION THE ONLY REMEDY. 1T5 
 
 dull, or so dogged in their prejudices and hatreds ; but 
 after all the negro is not a fool, and I will not believe, 
 until convinced to the contrary, that he cannot be led to 
 see what is for his own interest. 
 
 If the blacks are suspicious of special instruction, as if 
 you wanted to gain some advantage over them, at least 
 they cannot resist the uplifting force of general education, 
 which will act upon them as it does upon the latest and 
 freshest and rawest of our foreign importations. Here in 
 New York we have shiploads of ignorance emptied almost 
 daily upon our shores. "What do we do with them ? There 
 is but one thing that we can do — convert that ignorance into 
 intelligence. This will take a whole generation, but it is 
 the only possible means of safety. 
 
 What is wise at the North is wise at the South. The 
 negro stands on the same ground as the foreign emigrant, 
 both utterly unfitted to be entrusted with the ballot. But 
 since they are entrusted with it, it must be ours to see that 
 they know how to use it. We must deal with the negro 
 vote as we do with the foreign vote. The only remedy 
 for ignorance is knowledge ; and as we have a vast system 
 of education for the children of the poorest who come to 
 us from foreign shores, so the same system of common 
 schools, not only furnished, but enforced, for a whole gen- 
 eration, will elevate the African race. The South is at this 
 moment using the most effectual measui-es to remove the 
 unfitness of the negro for the suffrage, by its widespread 
 system of colored schools. Let the good work go on 
 When the schoolmaster is abroad in the land, there will 
 be raised up in time a laboring population, no matter how 
 poor or how humble, not below the rank and file of the 
 foreign contingent of our New York democracy, and quite 
 intelligent enough to exercise the right of voting without 
 danger to the State. 
 
176 FEAR OF NEGRO DOMINATION. 
 
 In discussing this question, we are embarrassed by the 
 apprehension which seems to pervade the South, of negro 
 domination — a fear that surprises us in a people of such 
 unbounded courage. Setting one race over against the 
 other, such a transfer of dominion seems not within the 
 range of possibility. No matter how the blacks may in- 
 crease, they can never be a match for the superior intel- 
 ligence and power of organization of the whites. Yet 
 even Mr. Grady, (whose death, while these pages are going 
 through the press, has awakened universal sorrow,) a man 
 who had seen too much of public affairs to be easily fright- 
 ened, thought it necessary to sound the alarm. ]\Ii'. George 
 W. Cable, who, though a Southern man, now lives at the 
 North, and takes what some of us woiild consider an ex- 
 treme Northern view of the case, in a recent addi*ess said : 
 
 "My opinions have been uninfluenced by the tallc about the 
 •New South.' The only 'New South' is the industrial South, 
 and the change there is only partial and along the line of the 
 mineral belt. Henry "W. Grady's speech at the New England 
 dinner at New York, meant little. At the Texas Agricultural 
 Fair a few months ago, he called on an audience he was address- 
 ing to defend to the last drop of their blood the principle of the 
 white man's domination of the negro ! " 
 
 This was certainly a stirring appeal ; but was there any 
 occasion for our eloquent fi'iend to anticipate a change so 
 overwhelming? Is there really the slightest danger of 
 negro domination at the South? If it ever comes to a 
 contest of arms, there would not be a battle, but a mas- 
 sacre. I must say that Mr. Cable expressed himself with 
 more justice as well as moderation, when he said : 
 
 "My own notion is that the true Southern problem is not 
 whether the white man shall dominate the negro, or the negro 
 the white man. If it were, I suppose I should have to declare 
 in favor of the whites. But the problem is whether American 
 citizens shall not enjoy equal rights in the choice of their rulers. 
 
DR. CURRY ON THE RACE PROBLEM. 177 
 
 It is not a question of the negroes' right to rule. It is simply a 
 question of their rig-ht to choose rulers ; and as in reconstruc- 
 tion days they selected more -white men for office than men of 
 their own race, they would probably do so now." 
 
 But as Mr. Cable is just now out of favor at the South, 
 I will quote another and a very high authority on South- 
 ern questions, Dr. J. L. M. Ciu-ry of Kichmond, late Minis- 
 ter to Spain, and now Administrator of the Peabody Fund 
 for Education at the South, who, if he has not so much of 
 the ardor of youth, has the wisdom of age, and who, in 
 an address before the Legislature of Georgia, used these 
 plain words : 
 
 "I want to say to you in perfect frankness, that the man who 
 thinks the negro problem has been settled, is either a fanatic or 
 a fool. I stand aghast at the problem. I don't believe civiliza- 
 tion ever encountered one of greater magnitude. It casts a 
 dark shadow over your churches, your government, and your 
 future. It is a great problem, which will tax your energies. 
 Georgia was once Shermanized. Georgia, with the South Afri- 
 canized, as it may be, would be a thousand times worse than 
 Shermanized. 
 
 "But you may make the outlook as black as possible, and 
 yet ignorance and poverty are not remedies for the situation. 
 Better have the negroes educated ; better that they should have 
 intelligent preachers, intelligent industry, improved homes. 
 Which is better — to brutalize and pauperize, or humanize, civil- 
 ize, and Christianize? I leave it to you to settle the problem. 
 
 "There are people who say this ought to be a white man's 
 government. I am not prepared to contest that proposition ; 
 but I beg you to remember that the negroes — and I am glad of 
 it — have friends at the North who are befriending them. But 
 they are not coming to your relief. You must help yourselves, 
 if you are helped at all. 
 
 "I know that the indications are prophetic of a race con- 
 flict. God save us from it ! I know that dark shadows of the 
 future are flung across our pathway. It is idle to shut our 
 eyes. It is better to meet such dangers half way, even though 
 they come no further. There is nothing iper se in a white skin 
 unless behind that skin lie the hereditary experiences of centu- 
 
nS A CATASTROPHE POSTPONED. 
 
 ries of good government. I know that the negro of Africa has 
 no invention, no discovery, no law, no literature, no govern- 
 ment, no civilization. Why? If you put the Caucasian under 
 the same environment, and keep him there ten or twenty centu- 
 ries, there will be no invention, no science, no discovery, no 
 history, no civilization, among Caucasians. Your ancestors and 
 mine were once pagans and cannibals. We have become what 
 we are, not by virtue of a white skin, but by improving govern- 
 ment and good laws. Let the negro children get an education 
 where yours do not — let the negro be superior to you in culture 
 and property — and you will have a black man's government. 
 Improvement, cultivation, education, is the secret, the condition 
 and guarantee, of race supremacy. I shall astonish you, per- 
 haps, by saying that if the negro developes and becomes in 
 culture, property, and civilization superior to the white man, 
 the negro ought to rule. You are to see to it that he does not 
 become so. The responsibility is with you." 
 
 This puts things in rather a different light. It lays the 
 responsibility of the superiority of the negro race (if that 
 should ever come) upon the whites themselves ; while it 
 fixes the period so far away that it would need an inspired 
 prophet to tell the date of its coming. As the time at 
 which a race is attaining maturity is put at " ten or twenty 
 centuries," I think our Southern friends may safely post- 
 pone the catastrophe of negro domination to the next 
 generation ! 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 OLD MASTERS CARING FOR THEIR OLD SLAVES. 
 
 "Tou people of the North do not know the negro. 
 You draw a fancy sketch, as Mrs. Stowe did in her Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin, and fall in love with the picture of j^our 
 imagination. But that is not the real African. The 
 negro, pure and simple — that is, apart from all romantic 
 associations — is not an attractive creature. He is gross in 
 body and dull in mind. He may do well enough as a 
 laborer in the lowest kinds of work, when guided by the 
 superior intelligence of the white man ; but if you seek 
 for anything higher than that, you will not find it. There 
 is no fire in his eye, and no thought in his brain. If you 
 wish to make a man of him, you must put a soul inside of 
 his body. And his moral state is as low as his intellectual. 
 In short, he is very far down in the scale of humanity: 
 poor and ignorant ; low of origin, and bad by nature ; 
 debased by every vice, and capable of every crime ! " 
 
 Such are the colors, blacker than the skin he wears, 
 in which some would paint the negro of the South. As 
 these harsh words grate upon the ear of the stranger, he 
 is tempted to reply m terms equally emphatic. But it is 
 
180 THE NEGRO IN THE DARKEST COLORS. 
 
 better to keep silence, at least until the speaker is done. 
 Let the blast blow itself out : it is not tiH the storm is 
 past that there is any chance to hear the stiU, small voice 
 of reason and of truth. Even then I should begin my 
 protest very modestly by confessing that this wholesale 
 depreciation has some faint shadow of truth, just enough 
 to give it plausibihty. You say that the negro is "poor" 
 - — it is true ; that he is "ignorant" — it is true ; that he is 
 "low of origin" — that also is true (although it is nothing 
 new in human development — we can even trace back our 
 own " great race " to a period at which it began its pro- 
 cess of evolution at the lowest point); and if he were 
 "bad by nature," that would be only the natural result of 
 conditions so unfavorable. That he should be " debased 
 by every vice, and capable of every crime," is what could 
 be said with equal truth of thousands in all our great 
 cities, who are born and bred under conditions equally 
 unfavorable to virtue. I only wonder that the negro is 
 what he is, when I think whence he came, and through 
 what ages of suffering he has passed. 
 
 If you set out to paint him as black as you can, the 
 materials are at hand. You may treat him as a natui'alist 
 would treat a singular variety of the human species, and 
 set him down in your scientific catalogue as a freak of 
 nature. You may confirm your theory by tracing his his- 
 tory : beginning far back in the wilds of Africa, and 
 seeing him come out of the slime and ooze of the jungle, 
 with his very blood poisoned by malarious swamps, and 
 his imagination haunted by murky superstitions which 
 reflect the gloom of the forest. Traces of such an origin 
 you may find in him still, in which he bears a resemblance 
 to his fathers, who offered human sacrifices. I admit it 
 all : that he is the dark child of a Dark Continent, with 
 the stamp of oppression, if not of degradation, on his 
 
WHO 13 TO BLAME FOR IT I 181 
 
 brow. But is that any justification of wrong? How- 
 ever low and degraded he may be, 
 
 "A man's a man for a' that " ; 
 
 and the fact that he is poor and ignorant, is no reason 
 why we should take advantage of him, to cheat him, or 
 rob him, or oppress him. On the contrary, his very help- 
 lessness appeals to the generosity of the stronger race to 
 reach out its powerful arm to lift him up. 
 
 And here, if I were replying to one who had pronounc- 
 ed this sweeping judgment on the whole African race, I 
 would add one parting word : " If this be the result of 
 yoiir experience with your negroes, did it never occur to 
 you as just possible that you were partly responsible for 
 their intellectual and moral degradation ? Good masters 
 make good servants : why is it that yours have turned out 
 so badly? In condemning them, you condemn yourself; 
 and the best, indeed the only, atonement you can make 
 for your neglect in the past, is to befriend and help them 
 in th-e future." 
 
 But I will not trust myself to enter into an argument 
 with men who in the days of their power were violent and 
 cruel, and whose attitude towards their former depend- 
 ents is still that of hatred and contempt. Nor wiU I be so 
 unjust as to reckon all old masters with them. In the 
 days of slavery slaveholders were like other men ; having 
 among them a mixture of good and bad. There were all 
 sorts of masters as there were all sorts of men. There 
 were hard masters, and there were kind masters : and it 
 would not be fair that one class should siiffer for the sins 
 of the other. 
 
 Nor have their characters changed with their condi- 
 tion. The old master who was hard and selfish, will be 
 hard and selfish still. But from such a poor example, I 
 
182 GOOD OLD MASTERS. 
 
 tiu*n to one of another stamp. Those whose memories 
 reach back to a former generation, will recall manj a 
 master who was borne to his last resting place by his 
 faithful servants, who, as they laid him down, shed bitter 
 tears over the grave of one who had been their greatest 
 benefactor. This feeling may have been changed in some 
 who survived the war. There were those who were so 
 soured by the loss of their slaves, that they could hardly 
 bear to hear them spoken of, and muttered with a savage 
 brutalit}', " Let them take care of themselves ; let them go 
 to the dogs ! " But others there were who had been kind 
 and gentle before, and were kind and gentle stilk Had you 
 by chance met one of them, you might have heard him say, 
 " These poor people served me faithfully while they were 
 bondmen : I will be their friend and helper now that they 
 are free." In losing the ownership) of his slaves, he did 
 not lose his interest in them ; but still cared for them, and 
 tried to smooth their path, even though they had joassed 
 fiom under his control. The rupture that had come be- 
 tween them, was like the tearing asunder of the paiis of 
 the human body, leaving the feet to walk and the hands 
 to seize the implements of labor, with no eyes to see, and 
 no brain to guide them. It is hardly possible to conceive 
 of a more helpless human being than the newly-emanci- 
 pated slave— houseless, homeless ; without food, with not 
 even a hoe-cake in the cabin ; having nothing, doing no- 
 thing, and earning nothing. Then it was that he needed 
 more than ever a friend, and a friend he found in his old 
 master, who was the first to give him something to do. 
 He had not a sixpence to buy a peck of corn ; his old 
 master gave him wages. Above all, he needed direction, 
 and to whom should he turn so soon as to the one who 
 had been his gaide for so many years, and who now took 
 him by the hand like a child, and led him on till he could 
 
PRESENT DUTY TO THE OLD SLAVES. 183 
 
 get strength to walk alone ? I do not saj this was the 
 case with all old master.3 —perhaps not with the majority; 
 biit it was with enough to redeem the race from the re- 
 proach of salfish indifference to the suffering of their fel- 
 low-creatures. These are the representatives whom I have 
 in mind as "caring for their old slaves." And if any of 
 my Southern friends think it presuming in a Northerner 
 to make suggestions to them as to how they should treat 
 their formor dejiendents, I answer that I only give you 
 back what you gave to me ; that I have taken my models 
 and examples from among yourselves, and taken them only 
 to give them the honor which they deserve, and to hold 
 them up to universal imitation. 
 
 What has been done before can be done again, and on 
 a much larger scale, and with much greater effect. The 
 help which the old master can give his old slaves is not 
 help in money. That perhaps he has not to give ; and if 
 he had, it would only do mischief to scatter it about 
 among them, for it would only make them more careless 
 and improvident. He can serve them better, not merely by 
 making fair bargains with them and paying them prompt- 
 ly, but by taking a kindly interest in their welfare, and 
 helping them in their little economies. What they want 
 is intelligent guidance — a little of the white man's brains 
 to show them how to pick up something for themselves, 
 and how to keep it tiU they get enough to buy a little 
 cabin and a few acres of ground, to make a home, for that 
 is the starting-point of all that is good in them. Perhaps 
 they do not need to be urged to send their children to 
 school, for they are said to be very eager that they should 
 learn ; but a little encouragement never comes amiss as a 
 means of help, both intellectual and moral. I place an 
 emphasis on the last word, as it marks the point of great- 
 est weakness in the ex-slave, where he needs most the 
 
184 WANT OF MORAL STAMINA IN NEGROES. 
 
 benefit of his master's example. It is not in " book-edu- 
 cation," but in the training of character. The complaint 
 that I hear constantly may be thus expressed : " The negro 
 has no moral stamina. There is no way in which you can 
 get hold of him, legally or morally. You engage him to 
 work for you a week, and he will work two or three days, 
 and then leave you with no reason except that he takes it 
 into his fooHsh head that he'd rather go a-fishing ! He 
 has no conscience about it, no moral sense, and no force of 
 will, or persistence in anything that he undertakes. Such 
 a creature is hardly a responsible being, and you must cre- 
 ate the elements of a moral nabire — reason, conscience, 
 and will — before you can deal with him as an intelligent 
 subject of law and a member of civilized society." 
 
 You say they are wanting in moral stamina ; but where 
 should they get moral stamina but from you, their former 
 masters, who are still in their eyes the highest types of 
 manhood, their heroes and examples? The negro is at 
 once a very observing and a very imitative creatiure. He 
 can see the difference in white folks — between the " poor 
 trash " and the man to whom all look up ; and so he can 
 see the difference between what used to be called on the 
 plantation a "low-down nigger," and a black man whom 
 the whites as well as the blacks regard with respect. At 
 the same time his very habit of mimicry, which is a pecu- 
 liar gift of the race, leads him to imitate what others ad- 
 mire. He apes the air and the style of his old master. 
 If he was coarse and vulgar, his chief show of manhood 
 being his swearing and swaggering manner, he cannot ex- 
 pect the old slave to improve upon his model. On the 
 other hand, if he possessed that highest virtue, self-con- 
 trol, which never burst out into a furious i:)assion, but was 
 always quiet and restrained, it had, and still has, a power- 
 ful effect upon his old slave. In order to command others 
 
TO BE TREATED LIKE CHILDREN. 185 
 
 one must first command liimself, and his example will be 
 more powerful than any authority. 
 
 Of course in dealing with a people that are so careless 
 and heedless, there will be many things very discouraging. 
 Some of my Southei'n friends are getting weary of this 
 constant pushing up-hill the heavy stone, that, the instant 
 it is let go, comes roUing to the bottom. But I venture 
 to say to them. Be a little patient ! Lay aside your con- 
 temptuous manner towards the colored brethren, even if 
 you have to put up with some manifestations of joy in 
 their new-found liberty that may provoke a smile. It is 
 the natural consequence of that " holy estate " of liberty 
 whereinto they have come, that they should be at first 
 somewhat dazed and bewildered. They are "like them 
 that dream," and in the intoxication of their first sense of 
 freedom and independence, it would be strange indeed if 
 some of their performances were not rather grotesque. 
 All this is in the course of nature, and is no more to be 
 resented or criticized than the caperings of a young colt 
 that " feels his oats," and being let loose, starts off on a run. 
 By-and-by he will sober down, and be subdued to the quiet 
 and dignified jog of a useful worker in the world. 
 
 Recognizing aU this, the colored people of the South 
 are to be treated with the greatest possible kindness. The 
 negro is not an abnormal specimen of humanity : he is 
 simply a child, and to be treated as a child. If you have 
 a child that is rather dull and slow of improvement, you 
 do not beat him, but teach him, and have long patience 
 with him, till finally you make a man of him. So these 
 Americans " of African descent " are but children in under- 
 standing, and are to be treated like ehildi-en, not with 
 severity on the one hand, nor fond indulgence on the 
 other. Treat the negro as a brute and a savage, and you 
 make him one. Hunt him as a wil-d beast in the swamps 
 
186 THE HARDEST TRIAL OF PATIENCE. 
 
 with bloodhounds, and you may yet feel his vengeance in 
 the deadly shot fired on a lonely road, or in the flames of 
 your burning dwellings. But treat him kindly, and trust 
 to the better nature that is in him to respond to kindness. 
 If he does not respond, so much the worse for him ; but 
 you at least have done your duty. But do not then, in the 
 excess of your good nature, turn round and flatter him, so 
 as to fill him with conceit, for that is the worst possible 
 thing for him. It is worse than cruelty — indeed it is the 
 greatest cruelty. The negro — ignorant, simple creature 
 that he is — is easily flattered, and while under this influ- 
 ence, he loses the little sense that he has ; he does not 
 know whether he stands on his head or his feet, and is 
 easily made the tool of a demagogue, who wishes to use 
 him for his own selfish piu'i^oses. Ignorant peoj)le are ajDt 
 to be suspicious, and are often shy of their best friends, 
 w^hilst giving their confidence and their votes to impostors 
 and deceivers ; and it would not be strange if the negroes 
 were at first to shake their heads, and think that the old 
 master had some selfish purpose to gain by his unexpected 
 kindness. All this is a state of things which requii'es the 
 most delicate handling. Such distrust can only be re- 
 moved by degrees. But in time unfailing kindness will 
 do its work, by bringing the old masters and their former 
 slaves into a mutual understanding and good feeling, that 
 will be for the prosperity and the happiness of both. 
 
 Perha^DS the most severe trial of patience is to labor for 
 those who are not grateful for it. Ingratitude is an 
 infirmity that belongs to our poor human nature, and we 
 must not expect the colored people to be fi-ee fi-om it. 
 Coupled with this there is often a self-sufficiency that is 
 very discouraging. Northern teachers who have gone 
 South to teach the colored people, thereby exposing them- 
 selves to social ostracism, have acknowledged to me that 
 
"a very slow business." 187 
 
 their greatest trial was, not the hostility of the whites, nor 
 even the ignorance and stupidity of the blacks, but their 
 seK-sufficiency Not long ago I visited a University, which 
 had some hundreds of colored students, and as I watched 
 the long procession of young men fiUng out from their 
 halls, a Professor said to me, " There is not one of them 
 who does not think that he is competent to run the whole 
 concern ! " Naturally, their teachers are pained at this 
 want of appreciation and of gratitude for the services 
 which they render at very great cost to themselves. But 
 what of that ? If we wait for gratitude as the reward for 
 doing good, we shall accomphsh but little in this world. 
 Even Christ pleased not Himself, and it is enough that the 
 discijDle be as his Master, and the servant as his Lord. 
 
 " But this is very slow business ! " Of course it is slow, 
 as all the great processes of nature are slow. " It may 
 take years ! " Yes : and it may take generations. But is 
 not the end worth aU the toil and the delay ? To educate 
 one mind, to form one character, to bring one sinner home 
 to God, is often the work of a lifetime, and that life is not 
 spent in vain. What then is it to lift a whole people out of 
 the depressed state in which they have been for ages ? 
 
 The first condition of doing anything is to appreciate 
 the greatness of the work. We are too ready to rush to 
 the conclusion that everj'thing was done for the negro by 
 the war, whereas the work was only then begun. It indeed 
 emancipated the slaves ; it gave them the same rights that 
 belong to other citizens of the Republic ; but it did not 
 change their natui-e any more than it changed their color; 
 it did not make one hair white or black. Those who were 
 ignorant and degraded before, are ignorant and degraded 
 still. In order to change that condition, we have to edu- 
 cate, not by units, but by millions — an undertaking that 
 may well appal us by its magnitude. 
 
188 A GREAT OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 Here is the great opportunity of the Kepublic, and of 
 Christian civilization — to raise up an inferior race to the 
 level of our own. This is at once the greatest and the most 
 difficult work that was ever attempted by man. But it is 
 the work that God has given us to do, and blessed is he 
 who has a part in it. And to have a pai^t, it is not neces- 
 sary to be in a jDublic station — a governor or a legislator : 
 for it will be accomplished in private spheres, by the per- 
 sonal influence of good men of one race coming in con- 
 tact with the masses of the other. You may make all the 
 laws in the world, and enforce them by all your power, 
 civil and military : they do not touch the seat of the dis- 
 ease. The jDoison is in the blood ; in the profound mu- 
 tual distrust which divides the two races. How is this to 
 be overcome ? How are they to be brought together ? In 
 the advance towards a better understanding, the stronger 
 race must lead the way. The white man, in his inter- 
 course with the blacks, never forgets his own superiority. 
 Then he must accept its obligations. Noblesse oblige, and 
 the first of all its obligations is coui'tesy to inferiors. 
 Kindness disarms distrust, and begets confidence — a warm 
 atmosphere in which prejudices and animosities dissolve 
 and die. There is no heart so hard that it can resist 
 a love which "never faileth." The true solvent of the 
 Bace Problem, as of all social questions, is gentleness, 
 not the gentleness of weakness, but the gentleness of 
 power. "Thy gentleness hath made me great," is the 
 Divine method ; and so in human relations, a gentleness 
 that is at once subdued and strong is the very breath of 
 God. It is the South wind, causing the spices to flow out. 
 And what healing influences will come from the school- 
 houses! Already "the woods are full of them," hum- 
 ming like so many hives of bees ; in which the noble army 
 of teachers, faithful men, and faithful women, too — God 
 
WHAT MAY BE IN THE NEXT CENTURY. 189 
 
 bless them ! — are -working in the spirit of their Master 
 for the uplifting of a lowly race. Work on, brave hearts ! 
 "We send you our word of cheer and of hope. There is a 
 better day coming, though we shaU not live to see it. But 
 whatever any of us can do, Httle though it be, will not be 
 lost. Long after we are dead and gone, the seeds of kind- 
 ness, sown by voice or pen, will spring up and blossom 
 from the dust. And at last, in some far-off future year, 
 wiU the desired end come, when no man shall vex his 
 neighbor, since universal love brings universal peace. 
 Then — in the middle of the next century, it may be — 
 a generation not yet born may see those happier times 
 which our eyes are not permitted to behold. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 A CAMP-MEETING IN THE WOODS, WITH A FEW WORDS 
 TO MY COLORED BRETHREN. 
 
 The desire to do full justice to one side of a question, 
 often leads to injustice to the other — a danger I have felt 
 from the beginning of this discussion. Wliile trying to 
 present the case of the whites of the South in the most 
 favorable light, I have feared that I might seem unsympa- 
 thetic with those who had suffered from the more power- 
 ful race. If it were a mere question of sympathy, I shovdd 
 always be on tbe side of the weak against the strong. 
 But it is not a matter of feeling, but of truth and of justice, 
 in which one needs to be on his guard against being led 
 away by bis sympathies, so as to imiDair the value of his 
 judgment. 
 
 Have I really leaned to the stronger side ? Then I will 
 try to restore the balance by leaning to the other ; and my 
 last words shall be to my colored friends. In these I hope 
 they will not think that I assume a condescending or 
 patronizing tone. I do not wish to pat them on the back, 
 or delude them with high-sounding promises to the ear, 
 that will be broken to the hope. I love them too much to 
 deceive them. As the only true kindness is in perfect 
 
CAMP-MEETING IN THE WOODS. 191 
 
 frankness, I -wish that my parting words should at least 
 bear this proof of what I feel so deeply. 
 
 But it is very awkward to talk in a familiar way 
 with those at a distance : it seems as if I were shooting 
 into the air, and over the heads of everybody within 
 hundreds of miles, with a vague idea that somehow and 
 someiohere I should hit somebody. Now if I am to talk, 
 I like to have my hearers near enough to see the whites 
 of their eyes ; and so, if you do not object, I v,'ill, for 
 the purpose of this famihar talk, suppose ourselves to be 
 assembled in a big camp-meeting, in a grove of live oaks — 
 those magnificent trees which are the glory of the South- 
 ern forests, and which, when bearded with moss, seem like 
 the veterans of another generation, looking down upon their 
 puny descendants at their feet. Here there is ample space 
 for you aU to rest at your ease, leaning against the trees, 
 or sitting on the ground, if perchance the talk should be 
 a little dull, or you can prick up your ears if there be any- 
 thing worth listening to. I can promise only that it shaU 
 be the advice of a sincere friend. With this I begin : 
 
 Men and brethren ! The Lord has brought you out of 
 the house of bondage! He has set before you an oj)en 
 door, leading to a straight path of safety and of peace ; 
 but He does not compel you to walk in it : it is left to you 
 to take your own course. Hence my first word to you — 
 and the last aho — is this : Your fate is in your own hands ; 
 the great work for your race must be done by yourselves. 
 If any of you have got an idea, because of the way in 
 which you were cared for by your old masters, that you 
 are to be "carried" as long as you live, the sooner you 
 get rid of it the better. Even if they were ever so kind 
 and ever so willing, they could not do everything for you, 
 and they ought not if they could, for it would only keep 
 you in a state of perpetual childhood. The sooner you 
 
192 ABRAHAM AND HIS CABIN. 
 
 come to a "realizing sense" that you have got to take 
 care of yoiu'selves, the better it will be for you. Nor must 
 you look to the Government to provide for your -wants. 
 It is not the business" of the Government to feed black 
 men any more than to feed white men. There is but one 
 law for white and black : He who will not work neither 
 shall he eat. This little word of fovir letters is the key to 
 Paradise. 
 
 As I am saying this, I see a man of large stature and 
 great bodily strength standing on the outskirts of the 
 wood, in doubt whether to accept this hard doctrine. 
 Let him not be in a hurry about it ; but go off a little way, 
 and sit down under a solitary oak, where nobody wiU 
 disturb him, and he can do " a heaj) o' thinking." Indeed, 
 if we can " let up " on the talking for a few minutes, and 
 vary the exercises with a spell of singing (which stirs the 
 blood, when rolled out by such magnificent voices), I will 
 go and sit down by him for a little private conversation. 
 
 " Well, Abraham " — I use this name as one that is 
 familiar to me and has jDleasant associations — "how do 
 you like being a free man?" He answers slowly, "Things 
 ain't quite so easy as they used to be on the old planta- 
 tion." " Yes : I know it, but think what you have gained 
 by the exchange. True, you've got only a mere patch of 
 ground with a log-cabin upon it. It's ' mighty little.' 
 YeSj but it's yours. And Dinah, who keeps it for you, is 
 yoiu's, and no man can take her from you ; and the little 
 merry faces that I see around, grinning with their white 
 teeth, and laughing out of their eyes — all are yours 1 
 They may not be as well dressed as white folks' children, 
 but Dinah will patch up their tattered garments ; and as 
 long as 3^ou can scratch ground in that garden patch fast 
 enough to keep them in hoe-cake and corn-dodgers, and 
 they are plump as so many rabbits, you need not be 
 
don't call on cjssar for help. 193 
 
 troubled. Isn't it something to work for ' joux own self ' ? 
 You are no man's slave, and can sit before your humble 
 door when the day is done, and sing : 
 
 ' "We own de hoe, we own de plough, 
 We own de hands dat hold ; 
 "We sell de pig, we sell de cow. 
 But nebber chile be sold.' 
 
 "What a motive you have in that wife and children to work, 
 since you can enjoy all the fruits of your labor which God 
 giveth you under the sun 1 Then work, and work hard I 
 That's the price of anything that is to be gained in this 
 world. Quiet industry will make you comfortable and 
 respectable. That is the way you are to make your own 
 position, without ' calling on Caesar for help,' unless it be 
 the Csesar and Pompey in the next cabin. 
 
 "And now, Abraham, remember this one word : You 
 must work out your own salvation ! No man can do it 
 for you : you must do it for yourself. You must fight 
 your own battles, not with sword and gun, but ' wid de 
 shovel and de hoe.' That old hoe is the best weapon 
 that was ever put into the hands of a man, white or black. 
 The Lord put it into the hands of Adam when he got into 
 a bad way in the Garden of Eden, and it has been a 
 mighty instrument to keep his descendants from going to 
 the bad ever since. As long as you keep hold of the hoe- 
 handle, you keep your hands out of mischief, and that is 
 no small thing in this wicked world." 
 
 As this kind of talk seems to make an impression, 
 when I go back to " the stand," I look about and spy 
 another huge, lumbering fellow, and fixing upon him my 
 "glittering eye," I talk to him in the same direct fash- 
 ion : "Is it not a shame that you, an able-bodied man, 
 should ' lie around ' and waste your time, when once you 
 could work like a hero ? You, who cotild be a slave for 
 
194 SAVE YOUR MONEY ! 
 
 your master — can you not be a siave for yourself, and for 
 your wife and children ? Think about it, and keep on 
 thinking till you get the idea so deep into your head 
 that it will stay there. If, as some sneeringly sslj, your 
 slowness in receiving ideas is because nature has pro- 
 vided 3'ou with a better protection for the brain than for 
 us thin-skinned and thin-skulled white folks, the same 
 physiological fact ought to make it easier for you, when 
 once you have got hold of an idea, to keep it locked up in 
 this secure repository of the most precious things which 
 you have to carry. 
 
 There is another idea which I would like to di'op into 
 that iron-bound chest, viz : that you not only work now 
 and then, by fits and starts, but regularly, as white men 
 do — every day in the week, and so many hours a day. If 
 you only work three days, and are idle the rest, you will 
 alwaj^s be a vagabond, a loafer, and a beggar. What you 
 need is to form a habit of industry that will become to 
 you a second nature. 
 
 A third idea, which is literally worth its weight in gold, 
 though I shall charge you nothing for it, is, Save what you 
 earn ! Your wages may be small ; but no matter how 
 smaU they be, you can save a little of them. Do you not 
 spend some of your hard-earned money for drink ? That 
 is a great deal worse than throwing it away. Keep away 
 from those vile dens in the woods, that are worse than 
 rattlesnakes' holes ! If you can save the sixpences that 
 go into that bottomless pit, in a few weeks they will count 
 up some shilhngs, or even dollars, enough to put into a 
 savings bank. That marks the point where a black man's 
 fortune begins to turn. His name will no longer be pre- 
 fixed with a word speUed with two gs ; and when it gets 
 around among his people that he has money in the "bank (I), 
 they win speak of him as IVIr. Jones 1 
 
GET A HOME ! 195 
 
 But I do not urge you to save yoiu' money in order to 
 make a miser out of you ; but that you should get a home, 
 which is, or ought to be, the aim and end of every hard- 
 working man, white or black. It will be the happiest 
 moment of your life when you can go into a little cabin, 
 and look round on the rough walls, and say, " This is 
 mine 1 It isn't Master's. I'm Master ! " Ah, my friend, I 
 know not what transport you may feel when you pass over 
 the waters of death, and your feet touch the heavenly 
 shores ; but this side of Jordan there is no keener pleasiu'e 
 than when you enter your humble dwelling. It is yours. 
 Nobody has given it to you : nobody except the Creator, 
 who gave you strong arms and a strong will to take care 
 of yourself. 
 
 But perhaps some of you are not content with the log- 
 cabin, however neat and trim it may be, or with the shovel 
 and the hoe. It is too much like being on the old planta- 
 tion. WeU, for my part, I consider the cultivation of the 
 earth to have been, from the time of the Garden of Eden, 
 the most honorable occupation of man. But if your 
 young fellows look for " something higher," there is no law 
 to keep them in the cabin, or on the five-acre lot : they 
 can go into the towns and cities, where they will find me- 
 chanical employments open to them. The danger is that, 
 having no trade to work at, they will not find anything to 
 do, and so will wander about the streets, and become just 
 as useless as would the same number of white vagabonds. 
 But if they are in earnest to work, and ready to take what- 
 ever comes to hand, they can soon make a place for them- 
 selves. They can become, not only hostlers and teamsters 
 and draymen, but skilled mechanics. In Atlanta colored 
 men are blacksmiths, masons, carpenters, and house-build- 
 ers, and work side by side with white mechanics, with no 
 friction between them. 
 
196 BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER. 
 
 In tliis way the negro can soon take care of himself. 
 If he is a good mechanic, he will find plenty to do. Of 
 coui'se, if he is a poor workman, he must not expect to be 
 emploj^ed simply because of his color. But let him show 
 superior skill, and he will not stand idle. If there be in 
 Atlanta a bright-eyed and strong-limbed son of Africa, 
 who has got the reputation of being the best blacksmith 
 in the city, the Southerner who has his stable full of 
 blooded horses will ride by the open forges of all the 
 white blacksmiths, to find the man who can shoe his horse 
 in the best way. No man ever hated the negro to such a 
 degree that he did not prefer a good black mechanic to a 
 poor white one 1 
 
 My next word may surprise you : Be kind to one 
 another ! I should not presume to say this, as if you were 
 in any special need of it, if it were not for what I hear 
 about you. But some who have had to do with colored 
 people all their Hves, tell me that, however subservient 
 they may be to white folks, they are by no means gentle 
 among themselves ; that fathers whip their children with- 
 out mercy ; and that negroes placed over others do not 
 prove the most indulgent "bosses"; that a little authority 
 turns their heads ; that they hke to show their power, and 
 that this makes them hard, often to the point of cruelty. 
 They tell me that on the old plantation a slaveholder could 
 do nothing that wovdd so soon create a panic on the place, 
 as to give his people a black overseer, as he was pretty 
 sure to be more rough in the field than a white man. A 
 friend fi'om Virginia recently told me that if a negro was 
 arrested on a charge of crime, his first request was that 
 there should be no one of his own color on the jury ; that 
 his instinct told him that white men would be more len- 
 ient to his infirmities, big or httle, than those of his own 
 race. 
 
PLATING WITH FIRE. 19T 
 
 These are not pleasant things to hear. I do not knovr 
 that they are true. You know better than I. But if they 
 are true, you can hardly expect your white friends, how- 
 ever kind-hearted they may be, to be very considerate of 
 your feeHngs or your interests, when you are indifferent to 
 the feelings or interests of your colored brothers and sis- 
 ters, who may be in a condition of the greatest poverty 
 and helplessness. "Bear one another's burdens," and you 
 will find your white neighbors very willing to bear your 
 burdens with you. 
 
 And that leads to another point that is all-important to 
 your comfort and happiness : Do not let anybody per- 
 suade you that white folks are unfriendly to you. Some 
 of your own race go about saying such things, and stirring 
 up hatred. But whoever whispers this to you, be he white 
 or black, is a very bad adviser. If you listen to him, you 
 will always be in hot water ; in a sour, ugly mood, making 
 threats, and watching for a chance of retaliation. 
 
 Be careful ! You are playing with fire in the midst of 
 the most inflammable materials. It is very easy to stir up 
 passion ; it is not so easy to control it. If ever there 
 should come the awful calamity of a race- war, it will come 
 by the preaching of this fiery gospel of hatred and re- 
 venge. Of course there is enough to stir up the excitable 
 African nature. Here is a powerful negro, who is not 
 a bad fellow at heart, but is maddened by the memory 
 of cruelties in the old days of slavery, when perhaps he 
 was subjected to the lash to "break his spirit." Such 
 a man may easily be converted into a desperado, lurk- 
 ing in swamps, only to emerge now and then to do some 
 deed that thrills the land with horror. It is easy to see 
 where his career will end ; but were it not better to tame 
 this African lion before he becomes so desperate and so 
 terrible ? And if he cannot be tamed by the whites, the 
 
198 POLITICAL DUTIES : GOING TO THE POLLS. 
 
 verj sight of whom rouses all the hatred within him, let 
 him be held in check by his own kindled. If I had the ear 
 of your leaders — for you have leaders as much as we — I 
 would implore them, in the name of God and of their 
 race, to restrain the fury of the more violent among you, 
 lest it become a contagion of madness, spreading rapidly 
 and wildly, and involve yoiu: whole people in one common 
 ruin. 
 
 But for you who have no wrongs to embitter you, these 
 suspicions are as foolish as they are wicked. Throw all this 
 stuff to the dogs ! AVhen the tempter comes, say, Get thee 
 behind me, Satan ! The white men are not your enemies, 
 but your best friends. They heljo you by giving you work 
 to do ; they pay you wages ; they tax themselves for 
 schools for your children ; they encourage you to help 
 yourselves ; and if yon would only listen to the advice 
 they give, and follow it, it would be a great deal better for 
 you and for your children. 
 
 But I have said nothing yet about your political du- 
 ties : these I have left to the last, because I think them 
 the least of all God's mercies, and the most unimportant 
 to yo\ix pr extent well-being. " But," you ask, " do you mean 
 that we shall give up the rights that have been given to us 
 by the laws of the country ? " By no means. But there 
 is a difference between having a right and exercising it. 
 The latter is a matter of time and judgment. I may not 
 STUTender a single one of my legal rights, and yet there 
 may be reasons sufficient to myself why I should defer 
 asserting them to a more convenient season. And so, my 
 good friends, the less you talk and think about " j)<^litics," 
 the better it will be for you. If you can go to the polls and 
 vote quietly, without getting into trouble with your white 
 neighbors, do so ; but do not go armed, for the good rea- 
 son that in a pitched battle you will be sure to be beaten — 
 
GOOD ADVICE : DO NOT TAKE YOUR GUNS ! 199 
 
 [no matter what your aumbers may be, tbey will be no 
 match for the superior intelligence and organization of 
 your adversaries] — and further, you will gain more by 
 waiting than by fighting. For the present your strength 
 is to sit stiU. Time will do for you more than you can do 
 for yourselves. 
 
 We sometimes get wisdom from an imexpected source ; 
 and not long ago I found this nugget of gold from Mr, 
 C. P. Huntington, one of the half dozen men who built 
 the first railroad to the Pacific. Some months since he 
 was down in Mississippi, and happened to be present at a 
 gathering of colored people, whom he addressed in a few 
 plain, homely words, that seemed to cover the whole case. 
 He said : 
 
 "Boys, you must be industrious! Save your money, and 
 put it into land. If you do this, you will soon own the soil, 
 and command the respect of your enemies and the confidence 
 of your friends. You will have to learn to deny yourselves the 
 gewgaws which it seems so easy for you to spend your money 
 for. If justice is slow, do not get impatient, for it will come in 
 the course of time. Go to the polls, but do not take your guns I 
 If you are not permitted to vote, go again, and keep on going 
 patiently as a silent protest against this political in^'ustice ; and 
 in time you will have your rights, with the capacity to use them 
 wisely." 
 
 As to this whole political business, one word of caution : 
 Don't expect too much from the General Government! 
 I know it is the most natural thing in the world, when 
 you get into straits, to call on the power at Washington to 
 help you out, and party papers echo the cry. Just now 
 we hear a loud call upon Congress to secure to the negroes 
 at the South "a free ballot and an honest count" — an 
 admirable thing to do, if there were not several big stum- 
 bling-blocks, veritable boulders, in the way, which no one 
 has pointed out more clearly than President Harrison, 
 
200 A WARNING FROM THE PRESIDENT. 
 
 who in a speech in the Senate, March 3, 1886, showed the 
 difficulty, even the impossibility, of doing this very thing. 
 He said : 
 
 "I have looked hopefuUy In the old times to the forcible 
 Intervention of the General Government. I have thought that 
 it might be possible under that stringent legislation which 
 Congress adopted, by the forcible intervention of the Federal 
 authority, to protect them [the negroes] in those rights of which 
 they were so cruelly deprived. But I have ceased to have faith 
 in the possibility of that intervention in their behalf, constituted 
 as this Government is, with its complex organization of Federal 
 and State governments, independent within certain limitations. 
 In the States and in the tribunals which they establish, and in 
 the venue where the offences are committed, crimes against the 
 colored people must be tried. Of necessity the successful vindi- 
 cation of the rights of these people fails unless there is a senti- 
 ment in the locality where the offences are to be examined into 
 and punished that reprobates and condemns them." 
 
 If such be the language of our Chief Magistrate, who 
 was elected partly because of his pronounced political 
 opinions in regard to the rights of the colored people, to 
 the defence of which he is pledged, not only by party ties, 
 but by his personal sympathies and all his public career, 
 we may well hesitate in urging the Government to a policy 
 which the head of the Government has already declared to 
 be impossible. Better wait a little longer, even though it 
 be at the cost of some hardship, than precipitate a conflict, 
 which can only end in disaster and defeat. 
 
 Meanwhile is there not something else to think about 
 than going to election ? Does it really make any difference 
 in your corn crop ? " De yam will grow, de cotton blow," 
 no matter who is Governor; and if you should stay at 
 home on election day, and spend it in your garden, while 
 others go tearing by on horseback, you will have no reason 
 to be ashamed if, when they come riding home at night a 
 little the worse for wear, they see the pretty picture of a 
 
KEEP TOUR SELF-RESPECT. 201 
 
 neat little cabin, -with roses in the window, and vines run- 
 ning over the door ! 
 
 But brighter than the roses are tlie snapping eyes of 
 your children, as they shine when tliey come home from the 
 little school-bouse in the woods. They are big with the 
 sense of knowing something which " Daddy " did not 
 know ; and as they climb upon his knees, and prattle of 
 the lessons in spelling and in reading they have learned, 
 the old creature's heart swells, half with sadness and half 
 with pride, that they have opportunities that were denied 
 to him. The most touching picture in the New South is 
 that of a former slave, with grizzled head bent fondly over 
 his child, listening eagerly as he hears the first words read 
 out of the Bible from those tender lips ! 
 
 With such elements of happiness, my poor friend, your 
 lot in life is not very hard, even though you should not 
 have the honor of voting or being voted for. Take what 
 you have, and be thankfiol to God for it, though there may 
 be other things which you desire, but do not possess. 
 
 To make your happiness complete, I would that you 
 could be lifted up, not with pride, but with genuine, manly 
 self-respect. To this end I beg you, do not try to be what 
 God never made you to be, and what you cannot be, how- 
 ever much you try. The great trouble with the colored 
 people of the South, is that they want to be white folks. 
 But can the Ethiopian change his skin ? In this fooHsh 
 desire to be what they can not be, they lose the opportu- 
 nity to be what they can be : to take a position of their 
 own, in which they can keep their independence and their 
 self-respect. 
 
 Can anything be more childish than to complain that 
 we are not treated with proper consideration? I some- 
 times hear a good honest colored man say " white folks 
 don't treat him 'spectful," by which he means that they 
 
202 SOCIAL EQUALITY. 
 
 wont have anything to do with him socially. Well, then, 
 my good fellow, if I were in your place, I wouldn't have 
 an^iihing to do with them. They like to be by themselves, 
 and so do you, for you feel a great deal more free, and 
 enjoy yourself better ; and if I were in your place, when I 
 wanted to have a good time, I wouldn't have any white 
 folks around ! 
 
 In this matter of social position, those of the colored 
 people who are most woi'thy of respect, have a becoming 
 pride, which leads them to hold themselves in a position 
 of reserve. One of them writes to me : " As to social 
 equality it is a mistake to suppose that the colored people, 
 either North or South, have any desire to intrude them- 
 selves upon the whites. They have intelligence enough 
 to know that social equality is a matter which must be 
 regulated entirely by individual j)i'eference." If all had 
 this feeling of dignity, there would be no trouble : for, 
 as our friend tridy indicates, these are matters regulated 
 by an instinctive feeling on the one side and on the other ; 
 and the less attempt there is to use force or compulsion 
 of any kind, the better. There are things which the law 
 cannot do : it cannot change a man's skin ; it cannot 
 make him white or black ; nor can it eradicate his natural 
 instincts ; so that we need to be careful, in our zeal for 
 humanity in general, not to attempt the impossible, nor to 
 force a union which nature does not permit. 
 
 Nor should your equanimity be disturbed if white folks 
 should have the bad manners to speak of you with an 
 affectation of contempt. What if they do ? Hard words 
 don't kill anybody. Perhaps they laugh at your efforts to 
 lake care of yourself. Never mind ! Only just work a little 
 harder, and by-and-by the laugh may be on the other side. 
 A man who is a man — whose heart is clean, and whose 
 hands are used to toil — can hold his own against the world 1 
 
THE creator's STAMP ON YOUR BROW. 203 
 
 Now it is very easy to give advice, and to say what we 
 would do if we were somebody else ; but I sometimes 
 like to think what I wovdd do if I were a black man. 
 I would not try to make myself white, nor would I regard 
 my color as a degradation. What's in a name ? One of 
 the most famous regiments in the English army, is known 
 as the Black Watch, as one of its greatest heroes was 
 called the Black Prince. Was not the name as honorable 
 as if he had been called the White Plume, or any other fancy 
 title that might be given to him as a leader of chivalry and 
 romance ? The Bible speaks of one who was " black but 
 comely." So there are many of a darker skin than ours, 
 but of splendid physique, as fine types of manly strength 
 and beauty as any that we can show. If I were black, I 
 would not ask my Creator to change my skin by a single 
 shade. I woiold say, This is the badge of my descent; 
 this is the stamp which the fiery sun of Africa has burned 
 upon my brow. I accept it as the token by which the 
 Creator would distinguish mine among the races of men, 
 and I will make it honored in the sight of the world ! 
 
 And so it is being raised up to a place of honor and 
 respect. With aU that is dark in the sky above, there is 
 light breaking all round the horizon. If your race has 
 long seemed to present a dead level of inferiority, there 
 are heads cropping up here and there that wiU not be kept 
 down. Young men are taking advantage of the oppor- 
 tunities for a higher education than that in the common 
 schools. At the South there are numerous institutions for 
 colored students, such as Lincoln, Howard, and Biddle, 
 which are thronged by those eager to obtain the benefits 
 of knowledge ; while from Hampton, General Armstrong 
 sends out hundreds of lusty fellows, strong of limb, and 
 not at all deficient in intelligence, who are both ready to 
 work and apt to teach, to be teachers in the schools which 
 
201 PROGRESS IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. 
 
 are being establislied eyerywhere in the South for the 
 childi-en of their race. At the North, here and there one 
 has entered a college, in which all the teachers, and almost 
 every one of the pupils, are whites. At the last Com- 
 mencement at Williams I saw a black student come on 
 the platform with the class, and receive his diploma from 
 the hands of the President. Another has graduated at 
 Harvard with such honor that he has received a Govern- 
 ment appointment in Washing-ton. Another has been 
 chosen by the present Senior class as its orator at the 
 next Commencement — a very high honor, which, we are 
 assured, he owes to no favor or party feeling, but to his 
 own indomitable spirit : for it is said that he began by 
 working in a barber's shop, to earn money to get an edu- 
 cation. This is the stuff that men are made of, and a race 
 that produces many such cannot be kept down. 
 
 All this is progress in the right direction. To be sure, 
 it may be asked, What are these among the millions to be 
 raised up out of the depths of ignorance ? Little indeed ; 
 but it is something that there are signs of life stirring in 
 the sluggish mass of that vast population. In this new 
 exodus from bondage, the emancipated slaves have a long 
 road to travel before they reach the Promised Land. But 
 it is something to see the head of the column coming up 
 out of the wilderness, with their faces turned to the rising 
 sun. 
 
 In that column you can be in the front rank, if you are 
 worthy of it. My ambition for you is that you should rise to 
 a true manhood ; that you shoiild become, not luhite men, 
 but MEN, who will respect yourselves, and so compel the 
 respect of others. This is not to be gained by selling your 
 votes at the polls, or being flattered and cheated by dema- 
 gogues, but by the humbler method of tilling the soil, in 
 which will grow, not only corn, but every manly virtue. 
 
A HAPPY DREAMER. 205 
 
 The continual struggle with nature, which developos the 
 physical strength, also developes character. He who casts 
 his seed in the ground, and hath long patience for it, 
 waiting for the early and the latter rain, thereby learns a 
 lesson of trust in God ; and so that which is a school of 
 industiy, becomes also a school of faith and hope. In 
 such lowly places springs up the consummate flower of 
 piety. A beloved minister, now dead and gone, used to 
 tell me of a parishioner of his, a colored man who was 
 very old, but who was never so happy as when working in 
 his little garden, singing to himself in a low voice, 
 
 " Dis one ting I find : 
 
 Dat He can't go to glory 
 And leave me behind." 
 
 That faith is a light springing up in a dark place. It makes 
 the humblest home fuU of peace and bright with hope. 
 If any among you be so poor as not to have a roof to 
 cover you ; if you have to sleep on the cold ground, and 
 rest your head, like Jacob, on a stone, yet even then you 
 may, like him, dream a dream in which you shall see a 
 ladder reaching from earth to heaven, and the angels of 
 God ascending and descending upon it. 
 
 Dream on, weary sleeper ! There is more wisdom in 
 your dreams than in the pride of your waking hours. 
 Anchor your hopes fast to the throne of God, the begin- 
 ning and end of all that is good, and of all our hopes for 
 your race and for mankind. "When I think of all the diffi- 
 ctdties and perplexities that beset this Eace Problem, the 
 prospect is very dark ; the sky is black with clouds ; and 
 I am almost in despair, and should be utterly so but for 
 my temperament and my faith. But I am an incomgible 
 optimist, with a temper that rebounds like a spring from 
 the heaviest weight the instant the pressure is withdrawn. 
 But this buoyant spirit, however agreeable, would not be 
 
20(3 STANLEY IN THE FOREST OF THE CONGO. 
 
 very wise, if it had not something to rest upon. That 
 something it has, for it rests on the eternal foundations 
 I believe in the future, because I believe in God. "When 
 all is dark, I turn my eyes upward and see a Power above, 
 as I see the sun in heaven ; and seeing that, I believe that 
 all the wrongs of ages shaU be made right in the better 
 ages to come. 
 
 We have all been reading lately of the wonderful march 
 of Stanley across the Dark Continent. Pushing his way 
 from sea to sea, he found himself entangled in a forest of 
 apparently illimitable extent, which proved by actual meas- 
 urement to cover four hundred miles of latitude and as 
 many of longitude, so that it was as large as the whole of 
 France ! Into this wilderness he plunged without a guide, 
 forcing his way through deadly swamps, through thickets 
 so dense that every foot of advance had to be cut with an 
 axe, and where it was dark even at midday, as trees a hun- 
 di'ed, and even two hundred, feet high almost shut out the 
 light of heaven. Yet sometimes he had a vision in the 
 night that reanimated his courage. Lying on the ground, 
 he looked up through the branches of the trees, and saw 
 the stars keeping their eternal march. As some great orb 
 rose and hung in the deep sky, it seemed as if it were the 
 eye of God looking down upon him ; and the faith taught 
 in his childhood came back, and he believed that God 
 would carry him through. So after more than five 
 months, he came out at last on the highlands that over- 
 look the clear waters of the Albert Nyanza, one of the 
 great lakes of Africa. 
 
 It is not often that human courage has to face such 
 difficulty and danger. But there is a wilderness right 
 here in our own country more dense and dark and impen- 
 etrable, than the Forest of the Congo. It is in the Black 
 Belt, with its population of millions. Here is darkness 
 
BEAR AND FORBEAR TO THE END. 20T 
 
 that may be felt. It is a part of that greater mystery of 
 the African race — a mystery which casts its dark shadow, 
 like the sun in eclipse, over one-quarter of the globe, and 
 one large portion of the human race. How is it that a 
 whole Continent shoiild be foredoomed to eternal night, 
 and a whole race to misery without measure and without 
 end ? Here we are lost in a wilderness so deep and dark 
 that we cannot find our way out, but God can lead us out, 
 and He will. 
 
 To my colored friends I say. Be of good courage ! I 
 do not mean to behttle your hardships ; to make light of 
 them as if they did not exist : they do exist. But what- 
 ever they may be, bear and forbear even to the end. If 
 you have to suffer a thousand humiliations, remember 
 that it was by far greater humiliations that the Saviour of 
 mankind wrought out the salvation of the world. So the 
 salvation of your race is not to be lightly won : it must 
 be gained by silent endurance ; by toiling and suffering ; 
 by industry, by patience, and by peace. 
 
 And so ends our camp-meeting. If it has seemed to 
 you a little long, you can shake off your weariness by 
 rising to your feet, and making the woodland arches ring 
 with a parting hymn. To you has been given, whatever 
 else be denied, the gift of song, by which you touch the 
 heart of the world. Those melodies tell the story of youi' 
 race, as in theu' plaintive tones are heard the wail of the 
 captive and the sighing of the bondman. They strike a 
 chord of pain, till through them there breaks a strain of 
 hojDc, that swells at last into a song of jubilee. Who that 
 has ever been present at a camp-meeting of our colored 
 brethren, can forget the multitudinous voices that mingle 
 in the mighty Hallelujahs, that make the air to tremble, to 
 which we listen enchained till they die away in the depths 
 of the forest ? That dying strain is our mutual farewell. 
 
208 SEEING THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY. 
 
 Here I leave tliis mighty Race Problem, over -whicli I 
 have been brooding for months, but which I make no 
 pretence to have solved. No man on earth is wise enough 
 to solve it. But when we are in darkness, we must grope 
 towards the light, and even then the light comes only by 
 degrees. One thing I hold to be fixed : that the Problem, 
 however difficult, is to be wrought out and to be settled 
 here. We are not to get rid of it by shipping off a whole 
 people to die miserably on some distant shore. This is 
 their home as much as it is ours ; and it is written in the 
 book of fate, that the two races are to remain on the same 
 soil, inhabitants of the same country, and sharers of the 
 same destiny. So it ought to be. The two races are not 
 natural enemies : on the contrary, they are indispensable 
 to each other ; and as they are the nearest neighbors, they 
 ought to be the best friends. 
 
 We have seen that the African race, which we have 
 been wont to regard as doomed to inferiority, is capable 
 of elevation, and that under the stimulus of education, it 
 is steadily rising, so that, even if it should not become the 
 equal of our boasted white race, it may yet attain to an 
 honorable place among the races of the world. As to the 
 social and political antagonisms, which are complicated by 
 race antipathies, by jealousies and hatreds, if we cannot 
 extinguish them, we can relieve the strain of the situation 
 by a strict regard to justice and humanity ; by kindness 
 and gentleness. Thus we can soften bitterness, and slowly 
 removing obstacles out of the way, may "tiu-n the hearis" 
 of the two races towards each other. But when we have 
 done all, we have still to confess that there hangs over 
 the future a veil through which no human eye can see. 
 The final solution must be left to God and to time. 
 
CHAPTEB XVI. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 When I left Atlanta, and turned northward, it was 
 delightful to feel that, at last, after two months absence, I 
 was homeward bound. My friend, Mr. Cunningham, who 
 had met me on my way South at Chattanooga, now met 
 me again, and accompanied me to NashviUe. Our last 
 day together had been on Lookout Moiintain, and now we 
 were to pass over other historic scenes. Middle Tennes- 
 see is full of war memories. Here is the field of Mur- 
 freesboro, which tells its story silently in thirty thousand 
 graves. As we approach Nashville, the crumbling remains 
 of old earthworks that once girdled the city, remind us 
 how two great armies were once camped on these hOls. 
 But just now my eyes were turned in another quarter, 
 to the town of FrankUn, a few miles south of Nashville, 
 that had been the scene of a battle near the close of the 
 war, which, though less in the number of those engaged 
 than some others, was contested with the most desperate 
 courage on both sides, and was one of the most important 
 in its results to the Union cause. In this battle Mr. Cun- 
 ningham had borne a part as a Confederate soldier, and 
 he had told me so much about it, with such details aa 
 
210 VISIT TO FRANKLIN. 
 
 brought it all Tividly before me, that I bad it in raind, if I 
 came this way again, to pay a visit to the historic ground, 
 that from a study of its geography, and of the position 
 of the contending armies, I might be able to appreciate 
 the tremendous conflict, and do full justice to the brave 
 men on both sides who perished in it. 
 
 Accordingly we fixed a day for the visit, when he brought 
 a fi'iend, Major Vaulx (pronovmced Voss), who was Inspec- 
 tor-General to Cheatham's Division, which bore a leading 
 part in the battle. Franklin is but eighteen miles from 
 Nashville, and a half hour's ride brought us to the sta- 
 tion. As we entered the town, we had the good fortune 
 to meet Col. McEwen, an old resident, who was here when 
 the battle was fought, and from his front door witnessed 
 it all, and who now kindly consented to accompany us 
 over the field, and give us the benefit of his personal ob- 
 servations. Later we had also Mr. Carter, whose house 
 was such a centre of fire from both sides, that he and his 
 family fled to the cellar for safety. Of these four persons, 
 three were eyewitnesses of the battle ; and the foui-th, if 
 he did not see so much, it was only because the roar of 
 conflict was going on over his head ; but as soon as the 
 battle was ended, he had the fullest oi^portunity to visit 
 the field while it was yet covered with the dead and 
 wounded, and his observations will come in in the proper 
 place. 
 
 As the points to be visited were at some distance from 
 each other, my first step was to engage a carriage with 
 two horses, with a negro following on an extra horse in 
 case any of our party preferred to make his observations 
 from the saddle. Thus provided with the best of guides, 
 we set out on our morning's ride, driving directly to the 
 line of entrenchment, along which General Schofield, who 
 commanded the Union army, drew up his line of battle. 
 
THE CRISIS OF THE WAR. 211 
 
 To make the description intelligible, we must recall the 
 general position of the armies in the South in the Fall of 
 1864. That was the crisis of the war. While Lee held 
 Richmond, he could do nothing to sustain the fortunes of 
 the Confederacy in any other part of the field, lest he 
 should leave the Capital to his vigilant and powerful 
 enemy. Hence the active campaign was transferred to 
 the farther South, where Sherman in a series of battles 
 had pushed Johnston back to Atlanta — a movement which 
 created such alarm that he was removed, and the com- 
 mand given to Gen. Hood, who had shown his courage on 
 many fields, having lost an aiTa at Gettysburg and a leg 
 at Chickamauga, but who in his mutilated body still car- 
 ried the heart of a lion. He inaugurated his campaign by 
 a new system of tactics. Instead of manceuvering and 
 retreating, he believed that battles were to be gained by 
 hard fighting, and at once took the offensive, and fought 
 three bloody battles, but could not save Atlanta from sur- 
 render. Failing to shake the hold of his adversary by 
 direct attack, he undertook a movement in the rear. 
 Leaving Sherman in Atlanta, he crossed the Chattahoochee 
 with an army of more than forty thousand men, and 
 struck into Tennessee, intending to cut his adversary's 
 communications, and thus compel him to retreat in self- 
 defence. It was a brilliant plan of campaign, and might 
 have been successful if the Confederate leader had not 
 been dealing with a waiy old soldier. But Sherman was 
 then planning his march to the sea, and did not mean to 
 be diverted fi-om it. That was a bold stroke, but not 
 without its danger, for the farther he got away, the more 
 he left the enemy fi-ee to sweep the country ; and so it 
 might have been that while Sherman was marching 
 through Georgia to the sea, Hood should be marching 
 through Tennessee and Kentucky to the Ohio ! The let- 
 
212 GENERAL SOHOFIELD. 
 
 ters of Grant written at tlie time, show that he was full of 
 anxiety as to the result. 
 
 To guard against the danger from that quarter, it was 
 necessary that Sherman should leave in his rear a suffi- 
 cient force to deal with such a movement. Accordingly, 
 Thomas was left in command at Nashville, and Schofield * 
 
 * If proof were needed of the great value of institutions for 
 the training of officers who are to be at the head of armies, it 
 would be afforded by the late Civil "War, in which the same 
 Military Academy furnished the leaders on both sides. In the 
 battle that is here described, the opposing commanders were 
 not only both graduates of West Point, but members of the same 
 class, entering on the same dap, and had spent four years together, 
 little dreaming that they should ever be arrayed against each 
 other in the field. 
 
 General John McAllister Schofield is a son of the State of 
 New York, having been born in Chautauqua county, Sept. 29, 
 1829. He graduated at West Point in 1853 — when General 
 Eobert E. Lee (then only a Captain of Engineers, though a 
 Colonel by brevet for his services in the Mexican War) was 
 Superintendent, and General George H. Thomas Instructor of 
 Artillery and Cavalry — in the same class with General Hood, and 
 also with General McPherson and General Sheridan ; while in 
 the next class were 0. O. Howard and Thomas H. Euger, after- 
 wards Generals in the Union Army, and on the Confederate side 
 Generals G. W. Custis Lee, John Pegram, J. E. B. Stuart, the 
 famous cavalry officer, and Stephen D. Lee, who commanded a 
 corps at Franklin. On his graduation, Schofield was assigned to 
 the Second Artillery, and yet such was his standing as a student 
 that for five years he was retained at West Point as Instructor 
 in Natural Philosophy ; and then obtained leave of absence from 
 the army, that he might go to St. Louis, and there fill the same 
 chair in Washington University. But at the breaking out of the 
 war, he returned to the army with the rank of Captain, and was 
 almost immediately promoted to be Major of the First Missouri 
 infantry. He subsequently became chief-of-staff to Gen. Lyon. 
 In November, 1861, he had been promoted to be brigadier-general, 
 and was assigned to the command of the Missouri militia, and in 
 April, 1862, became commander of the district of Missouri. In 
 
HOOD CROSSES THE DUCK RIVER. 218 
 
 was sent witli two corps to his support. But even with 
 this reinforcement, Thomas did not feel strong enough to 
 deal the crushing blow which he afterwards gave in the 
 battle of Nashville, and so sent Schofield as far south as 
 Pulaski, a distance of eighty miles, to keep watch of Hood, 
 falling back as he advanced, and thus check his march 
 northward. At Columbia the two armies were separated 
 only by a river, which furnished an excellent Hne of de- 
 fence against the pursuer, if he should try to force a cross- 
 ing at that point. But instead of this. Hood moved east 
 to a ford five or six miles above, from which Schofield 
 at first supposed that ho would turn along the north bank 
 of the river, and attack him in his position ; but he soon 
 learned that, instead of this, his antagonist had struck 
 northwest towards Spring Hill, the point where the road 
 by which he was marching, would strike the main road 
 from Columbia to Frankhn. The object of this movement 
 was plain : it was to place Hood between Schofield and 
 Thomas, who was at Nashville, and thus cut the Union 
 army in two. This would give him an opportunity to fight 
 
 the Fall of 1862 he was given command of the frontier, including 
 the Kansas as well as Missouri troops. He was made a major- 
 general of volunteers Nov. 29, 1862, and after distinguished 
 services in different fields (especially in the campaign of General 
 Sherman against General Joseph E. Johnston in the Summer 
 and Autumn of 1864, which ended in the capture of Atlanta, and 
 in the Battle of Franklin), he was breveted a major-general in 
 the regular army. In July, 1867, he was appointed to the com- 
 mand of the first military district. In 1868 he was Secretary of 
 War. The following year he was assigned to the command of 
 the Department of tho Missouri, and was made a full major- 
 general. "When General Hancock died he was assigned to the 
 command of the Division of the Atlantic. Since the death of 
 General Sheridan, he is the senior officer In the national service, 
 ranking as General of the United States Army, and has his head- 
 quarters in Washington. 
 
214 MOVEMENT TO CUT OFF RETREAT. 
 
 them separately, and to gain a victory over both. If he 
 could only reach the road before troops could be sent to 
 head him off ; or while they were defiling along it ; he would 
 have his adversary at a terrible disadvantage, and attacking 
 him in the flank, might strike a fatal blow, and tlierefore he 
 gave orders that, as soon as the head of the army reached 
 Spring Hill, it should begin an immediate attack — an 
 order the execution of which was committed to General 
 Cheatham, one of the bravest and most trusted leaders of 
 the Southern army ; and to the fact that this commander 
 did not make the attack, and that the Federal Army was 
 able to pass undisturbed. Hood ascribes the loss of his 
 opportunity to win a great, and perhaps decisive, victory. 
 In his volume entitled "Advance and Reteeat," which now 
 lies before me, he gives a fuU history of the campaign, and 
 dwells at great length on this failure, which seems to have 
 been the sore point of his whole military career. He says 
 that he led the army in person to within two miles of the 
 Columbia turnpike, " where, sitting upon my horse, I had 
 in sight the enemy's waggons and men passing at double- 
 quick along the Franklin pike"; and said to Cheatham, 
 " General, do you see the enemy there, marching rapidly 
 to escape us ? " and ordered him at once to push on and 
 seize the road and hold it. What was his amazement and 
 indignation, an hour later, when, as "twilight was upon 
 them," Cheatham rode up, not having executed his com- 
 mand, and Hood "exclaimed with deep emotion," "Gen- 
 eral, why in the name of God have you not attacked the 
 enemy, and taken possession of that ]i\^e ? " to which 
 Cheatham replied that " the line looked a little too long 
 for him, and that Stewart should first form on his right." 
 This was his unpardonable crime. The brave soldier had 
 failed in the hour of need, and to his dying day he suffered 
 from the imputation of culpable negligence ! 
 
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STORY. 215 
 
 This is one side of the story, which is very good until 
 you hear the other. But the friends of General Cheatham 
 by no means admit its truth, but reply with much indig- 
 nation that it was merely an attempt to throw on him the 
 blame which should have been assumed by quite a differ- 
 ent person ; and they think it due to the good name of 
 the brave old soldier, now that he is sleeping in his grave, 
 that this unjust imj)utation should be removed. Major 
 Vaulx writes to me fi-om Nashville, as an eye-witness of 
 that which he describes, that the responsibility for not 
 attacking Spring Hill (if it was a fault, which he seems to 
 doubt) should rest not on Cheatham, but on the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief. He says : 
 
 "Cheatham's corps was in advance on the march. As it 
 approached Spring Hill, he was ordered by Gen. Hood to form it 
 in line of battle in front of the Federal army, which was already 
 in position — an order which he promptly obeyed, forming it 
 from left to right as each division came up : Bate on the left, 
 Cleburne in the centre, and John C. Brown (who commanded 
 Cheatham's old division) on the right. As Brown was the last 
 to arrive, Cheatham pointed out his place to the right of 
 Cleburne, and then gave him orders, as soon as his division was 
 formed in two lines, to move his right brigade forward and 
 attack the Federals, who were posted south and west of Spring 
 Hill, with their line curved round on the east side of the town. 
 Cheatham told Brown that he would order Cleburne to attack on 
 hearing his guns ; and that as soon as Cleburne became engaged, 
 he would order Bate also to advance. "With this Cheatham 
 turned and rode back to give the order to Bate, expecting every 
 moment to hear the signal from behind that the battle was 
 begun, and kept asking impatientlj', ' Why don't we hear Brown's 
 guns ? ' The reason was soon explained. 
 
 ""While Brown was forming his division. General Strahl, who 
 commanded his right brigade, reported to him that he had dis- 
 covered a line of Federal infantry on a wooded hill, in such a 
 position that the moment he (Strahl) swung forward to the 
 attack, he would be exposed to a fire both on the flank and in 
 the rear. On hearing this. Brown went to Strahl, who pointed 
 
216 A CRUEL IMPUTATrON. 
 
 out to him the position of the Federal line, and seeing it, sent 
 two staff officers to report the situation to Cheatham, who, not 
 hearing the guns, had said to his staff, ' Let us go and see what 
 is the matter ! ' On the way to Brown, he met the officer who 
 was coming to report the situation on the right, and hearing it, 
 said ' Go with me, and report to Gen. Hood Just what you have 
 said to me,' which being done. Gen. Hood replied to Cheatham, 
 ' If that is the case, do not attack, but order your troops to hold 
 the position they are in for the night.' " [This explanation will 
 be clearly understood by reference to the map.] 
 
 Such, according to Major Vaiilx, is the true explanation 
 of the reason why General Cheatham did not attack Stan- 
 ley at Spring Hill. It was from no lack of courage, but 
 because of the darkness coming on, and the bold front 
 of the enemy. Another account indicates that, with all 
 the rage that Hood showed afterward at his lost opportu- 
 nity, he had himself an access of irresolution. Gen. Bate 
 reports that on that night he had occasion to go to the 
 headquarters, which were about two miles back from the 
 road, and there found Hood in consultation with General 
 Forrest, at the conclusion of which he turned to Bate and 
 said that no movement would be undertaken that night : 
 for that Forrest had just reported to him that he could 
 easily seize and hold the pike at a point above Spring Hill, 
 which would prevent the passage of Schofield, so that in 
 the morning " they would bag the whole Federal army " ! 
 
 While thus vindicating the good name of his old 
 fiiend, the Major takes occasion to stamp out another 
 cruel story which has been permitted to float about in 
 different quarters. As if the imputation of unmilitary 
 conduct in disobedience of orders, were not enough, the 
 charge is made still more odious by the explanation given 
 of this culpable neglect, viz : that General Cheatham was 
 grossly intoxicated ! This I myself have heard stated, not 
 as a mere rumor, an idle report, but as something which 
 
MARCH TO SPRING HILL. 
 
 m 
 
 FROM COLUMBIA TO SPRING HILL. 
 
218 CHEATHAM VINDICATED. 
 
 "everybody knew" in tlie army. To this Major Vaulx 
 g^ves a peremptory denial. He says : 
 
 "I was with Gen. Cheatham when he was giving his orders 
 to Gen. Brown. The charge that he was intoxicated is false. I 
 never saw him more self-possessed than on that afternoon. He 
 gave his orders in a very plain and explicit manner. His words 
 expressed just what he wanted, and in such a manner that no 
 doubtful construction could be given them." 
 
 To the same effect, ex-Governor Porter of Tennessee writes : 
 " I was with Cheatham during the entire day from Columbia 
 to Spring Hill, and he was not only not intoxicated, but I am 
 positive that he did not taste nor see 'a drop of liquor of any 
 kind." 
 
 The injustice of a Commander-in-Chief throwing upon 
 a subordinate a responsibility which he should take upon 
 himself, is answered by the Major with this telling remark : 
 
 ^'General Hood was himself on the field, but a few hundred 
 yards from Cheatham's line, and if he felt that his orders were 
 not being obeyed, he could have ridden to the front in five 
 minutes, and in person ordered the charge which he blames 
 Cheatham for not maliing." 
 
 [The whole subject is very fully treated in a paper read before 
 the Southern Historical Society at Louisville by Major D. "W. 
 Saunders, who served upon the staffs of Generals Pegram and 
 Walthall. Its vindication of Gen. Cheatham is complete.] 
 
 Major Vaulx adds these further particulars : 
 
 "Gen. Edward K. Johnson's Division was detached from 
 Stephen D. Lee's Corps, then at Columbia, and arrived in front 
 of Spring Hill after dark. Gen. Johnson was ordered by Hood 
 to report to Cheatham, and Hood ordered Cheatham to have 
 Johnson placed in position to command the turnpike road run- 
 ning from Columbia to Spring Hill. Gen. Cheatham sent his 
 Staff OflScer, Major Joseph Bostick, to order Gen. Johnson to 
 take such a position (Johnson had gone into bivouac). Upon 
 getting this order, Johnson vehemently objected to undertaking 
 this movement in the dark ; said he could not do it, as he had no 
 idea of the country, or the position of the other troops ; that he 
 had reached the ground after dark, and knew nothing about 
 directions; and if he went to moving about in the dark, he 
 
HOOD IN A RAGE. 219 
 
 ■would be liable to run into some of our own troops, and they 
 would fire into each other. Major Bostick suggested that he 
 could show Gen. Johnson where the turnpike was, and point out 
 where our lines were posted ; but Johnson said he could not, 
 and was not willing to undertake such a movement in the dark, 
 ignorant as he was of the country and all surroundings. It was 
 then suggested by Major Bostick that he had no decision in the 
 matter, but that Gen. Johnson might give orders to his command 
 to prepare to move, and then go himself to Gen. Cheatham, and 
 lay the case before him, which he did, and impressed it upon 
 Gen. Cheatham that he could not undertake the move intelli- 
 gently or safely." 
 
 But the next morning, when Hood found that the great 
 opportunity had been lost, he was unwilling to bear the 
 reproach of its being due to any want of energy on his 
 own part. Major Vaulx told me of a conversation which 
 he had with General Brown as they were riding side by 
 side, in which the latter said : 
 
 "General Hood is mad about the enemy getting away last 
 night, and he is going to charge the blame of it on somebody. 
 He is as wrathy as a rattlesnake this morning, striking at every- 
 thing. As he passed along to the front a while ago, he rode up 
 to me and said : ' Gen. Brown, in the movement to-day I wish 
 you to bear in mind this military principle : That when a pursu- 
 ing army comes up with a retreating enemy, he must be immedi- 
 ately attacked. If you have a brigade in front as advance guard, 
 order its commander to attack the enemy as soon as he comes 
 up with him ; if you have a regiment in advance, and it comes 
 up with the enemy, give the colonel orders to attack him; if 
 there is but a company in advance, and it overtakes the entire 
 Yankee army, order the captain to attack it forthwith ; and if 
 anything blocks the road in front of you to-day, don't stop a 
 minute, but turn out into the fields or woods, and move on to 
 the front '." 
 
 Aside from this Confederate testimony, it argues a cer- 
 tain simplicity in the commander of an army to assume 
 that, while he is wide awake and urging on his soldiers, 
 the opposing commander is not equally vigilant and equally 
 
220 PERFECT CONCERT IN THE FEDERAL ARMY. 
 
 determined. Tlie whole argiiment of Hood seems to imply 
 that the Union commander was quite unjDrepared, whereas 
 General Schofield had had his eyes open all the time to 
 the possibility of such a flank movement, and as soon 
 as the cavalry reported that the enemy were crossing the 
 river, he at once desj)atched General Stanley with a divis- 
 ion comjmsing three brigades and all the reserve artillery 
 of the Fourth Corj)s to Spring Hill, with orders to throw 
 up intrenchments and hold the position. 
 
 As these bickerings between Gen, Hood and his corps 
 and division commanders contributed so much to defeat 
 the Confederate army, they suggest by contrast the opposite 
 state of things in the Federal camp, where General Scho- 
 field was sui^ported by Generals Stanley and Cox, on whom 
 he relied with the absolute confidence that one brave man 
 gives to another. The situation was critical. The Union 
 army was threatened on two sides : by the flanking move- 
 ment directed towards Spring Hill, and at the same time 
 by the persistent attempt to force a passage of the river 
 at Columbia, where the attack was kept up without inter- 
 mission. Had Schofield withdrawn his whole force, the 
 Confederates would have immediately crossed with all 
 their heavy artillery, which could have been transj^orted 
 rapidly over the hard, macadamized tiu-npike. Against 
 both these movements, aimed at j)oints ten miles apart, 
 he had to be equally j)repared. As has been well said, 
 "He must hold back his enemy at Columbia with one 
 hand, and feud off the blow at Spring Hill with the other." 
 So while Stanley marched with aU speed to Spring Hill, 
 Cox was ordered to hold on to the last moment at Colum- 
 bia, to prevent the enemy crossing the river. It was to 
 the admirable manner in which hoth these orders were 
 carried out, that was due the success of this and the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
CALCULATING THE CHANCES. 221 
 
 To return to General Schofield : having anticipated the 
 flank movement of the enemy, he calculated the chances. 
 This he did, reasoning from his personal knowledge of the 
 General pitted against him. He and Hood had been class- 
 mates at West Point, and he knew that, while a braver 
 man never lived, his mind was not exact. At West Point 
 he had no standing in mathematics ; he did not calculate 
 distances nor impediments ; and he had no idea of the value 
 of time. This he proved to-day : for while he and Stanley 
 were aiming for the same point, and he had the staii;, 
 Stanley got there before him. True, the latter had the 
 advantage of a smooth, hard turnpike, while the former 
 had to move by a country road, in which his artillery and 
 baggage waggons would sink deep at every step. I say 
 would, for in fact the baggage trains had been left behind 
 at the river, and the artillery also, except a few light guns. 
 Thus the army was stripped for a forced march. Can any 
 one doubt that, if Stonewall Jackson had been in com- 
 mand, even though his men might have been barefoot, 
 ragged, and sore, he would have carried them, dead or 
 alive, to the point where the fate of the contest was to 
 be decided ? But Hood, as he tells the story himself, did 
 not come in sight of the turnpike tiU three o'clock, when 
 he was still two miles away, and then only to see " the 
 enemy's waggons and men " streaming along the road of 
 which he had been so eager to get possession ! General J. 
 D. Cox in his History * states that the division of Stanley 
 
 * This little volume, one of a series published by the Scrib- 
 ners, entitled "Campaigns of the Civil Wab," is the clearest 
 account I have found anywhere of the battle of Franklin, and of 
 the campaign of which it was a part. General Cox is one of the 
 men who rank high both in military and in civil life. Since the 
 war he has been Governor of Ohio and a Member of the Cabinet. 
 His book is written not at all in the style of a partisan, but in 
 
222 STANLEY AT SPRING HILL. 
 
 reached Spring Hill at noon, just in time to prevent its 
 being seized by a party of cavalry. Thus he was fully 
 three hom*s in advance of Hood. Those three hours saved 
 the Union army. In that time the division had thro wn up 
 earthworks around the little town, and was preparing for 
 an attack. If Hood was two miles away at three o'clock, 
 soldiers can make the calculation how long it would take 
 to move a large body of troops over that distance, and get 
 it into line of battle. Still it is true that the head of 
 the army approached the turnpike before sunset, within 
 gunshot of the Federal troops, and opened fire, which was 
 so vigorously returned that they found, to their surprise, 
 that they were in the presence of an enemy that was well 
 prepared for their reception. 
 
 The truth is that, although Hood tried afterwards to 
 belittle the force in possession of Spring Hill, in order to 
 throw the blame of his failure uj^on Cheatham, that vital 
 point was held too fii'mly to be shaken. Stanley was a 
 dangerous man to attack at any time, especially at the 
 head of five thousand of those Western troops that had 
 fought so splendidly in the Atlanta campaign. To add to 
 his strength, all the reserve artillery of the Fomth Corps 
 had been sent forward in advance, which enabled him to 
 put thirty pieces in position : so that when Cleburne, the 
 most dashing division commander in the Southern army, 
 who led the advance, moving forward in obedience to 
 Hood's orders, began the attack, he was received with 
 such a tremendous shock that, brave as he was, he di-ew 
 off and sent back for reinforcements ; but before they could 
 come ujD and be put in line of battle, night feU and pre- 
 
 the spirit of fairness and candor. As he took part in all the 
 movements preceding the battle, and was in command on the 
 lino that bore the brunt of the battle, there can be no ques- 
 tioning facts that passed under hi-s personal observation. 
 
IN" SIGHT OF THE CAMP-FIRES. 223 
 
 vented furtlier operatioBS. Thus it was that a large part of 
 the Confederate army was camped within sight of the road 
 along which the Union army was moving. Schofield found 
 them there when he came up, and just after dark he walked 
 to a slight ridge in front of his lines, and looked straight 
 into their camp-fires. They could have thrown themselves 
 upon his line of march, but it would have been a fight in 
 the dark, with a result by no means so certain as they 
 seemed to suppose.* 
 
 As night came on, the troops under Cox were ordered 
 to withdraw fi'om before Columbia in detachments, leaving 
 
 * If further light be needed on the disputed questions in regard to 
 the incidents of the day before the battle of Franklin, it may be found 
 in a very full and detailed narrative by Thomas Speed, Esq., of 
 Louisville, Kentucky, who, as Adjutant of a Kentucky regiment in 
 the Twenty-third Corps, took part in the battle, and who gives us, 
 not only his personal observations, but the result of a careful study 
 of the Confederate reports, all of which lead him to the conclusion 
 that Hood found that to make that night attack, of which he after- 
 wards talked as so easy to be made, would have been a pretty seri- 
 ous business. The paper was prepared to be read before the Ohio 
 Commandery of the Loyal Legion, and is published in their Histori- 
 cal Transactions. 
 
 In a private letter Mr. Speed gives the testimony of an officer 
 who was at Spring Hill, as to the preparations that had been made 
 for an attack. He says : "A few years since General Cheatham came 
 to Louisville to address his old companions-in-arms on this very 
 campaign (an address that was listened to with equal interest by 
 those who fought on both sides), in which he explained why he could 
 not reach the turnpike that memorable night. On the platform sat 
 General Walter Whittaker, a gallant Kentuekian, who commanded a 
 brigade under General Stanley. As we left the hall, he came up to 
 me and said in his characteristic way : ' Yes, the reason he didn't get 
 thar was because he couldn't. I was thar myself— I was thar with 
 seven regiments ' ! " The explanation appears to be quite sufficient. 
 
224 IN A VERY TIGHT PLACE. 
 
 till the very last a force sufficient to prevent the enemy 
 crossing. The rear-guard did not leave till after mid- 
 night. There was no moon, but the stars were shining 
 brightly ; and the old soldiers, elated to be once more in 
 motion, swung along the road rapidly. Three hoiirs of 
 this steady march brought them near Spring Hill, and as 
 they caught sight of camp-fires in the distance, they began 
 to cheer at the prospect of hot coflfee and a night's rest. 
 But the cheer had hardly been heard before it was silenc- 
 ed : as an officer at the head of the column put his finger 
 to his lips, and whispered " Hist ! " — a warning that passed 
 quickly along the line, and hushed every voice : for those 
 camp-fires were not surroimded by the boys in blue, but 
 by those who, at the least alarm, would have seized the 
 guns that were stacked at the edge of the woods, and fired 
 into the crowded column that was moving along the high- 
 way : though, if the attack had been made, it would not 
 have found the column unprepared : for even while on 
 the march, it was kept ready for battle. *' The divisions 
 were all moving by the left flank, so that when they shovJd 
 halt and face, they would be in line of battle, and coidd 
 use the road fences for barricades, if attacked. By this 
 arrangement there was the least risk of confusion, and 
 the greatest readiness for any contingency which might 
 arise." But while the position had these advantages, the 
 General could but feel that it was one of great exj)osure 
 and of great danger. He never passed a night of greater 
 anxiety. "When it was aU over, he telegraphed to Thomas: 
 "I don't want to get into so tight a place again." 
 
 But just now he was in "the tight place," and it re- 
 quired the utmost promptness and skill to get out of it. 
 The decision with which he acted showed that he had 
 the resoiu'ces of a soldier fitted for high command. He 
 seemed to be present at every exposed j)oint. Cox says, 
 
A COMMANDER WITHOUT ORDERS. 225 
 
 "On bearing from Stanley that lie was attacked by 
 infantry, Schofield hastened to Ruger's division, which 
 was nearest to Spring Hill, and led its two brigades in 
 person by a rapid march to Stanley's support." Again, 
 " Learning that some force of the enemy was at Thomp- 
 son's Station [three miles beyond], he immediately march- 
 ed with a division to that point, to open the way to 
 Frankhn." He retarrned to Spring Hill at midnight. 
 
 To add to his perplexities, he was without orders, and 
 wholly ignorant of what the rest of the Federal army 
 might be doing. It had been understood that as soon as 
 General A. J. Smith, with his corps from IVIissoiu'i, arrived 
 in Nashville, he shovdd push southward to Schofield's sup- 
 port. But whether this movement had been executed, the 
 latter did not know, for he had received no recent com 
 munication from Gen. Thomas. Surrounded as they were 
 by enemies, of course they could not telegraph to each 
 other except by cipher — a cipher which they themselves 
 did not understand : for IVIr. Stanton (knowing how often 
 important secrets leak out through the treachery of some 
 one who may be a trusted agent, and in the very tent of 
 a commanding officer) had, with an excess of caution, 
 issued an order that the cipher should be known only to 
 certain telegraph operators sent from the War Office in 
 Washington ; so that in one case Schofield received a 
 message which no one in camp could interpret, and 
 remained ignorant of its contents for forty-eight hours! 
 So he heard nothing from Thomas, and knew nothing of 
 the movements of Smith. But in the evening a train had 
 come in, the conductor of which said that as he passed 
 Franklin, he thought he saw troops there ; but as it was 
 after dark when he came through, he could not be posi- 
 tive. At once an officer was despatched with all speed to 
 Franklin, to bring positive information ; and if he found 
 
22G THE NIGHT MARCH. 
 
 General Smith, to order him (for he would have been 
 under Schofield's command) to push on instantly to join 
 him for the battle that must be fought at daybreak. But 
 ruturning to the conductor, and questioning him more 
 closely, the General felt that his information was too 
 uncertain for him to rely upon, and at midnight he gave 
 orders for the whole army to push on to Franklin. 
 
 In this foi'ward movement the troops which had just 
 come from Columbia led the way, the two wings of the 
 army reversing their positions : Stanley, who had marched 
 to Spring Hill in the morning, remaining where he stood ; 
 while the Twenty-third Corps, that had been keeping back 
 the enemy at the river, as it now came up the road, filed 
 behind the Fom-th Corps, and passed to the fi'ont. Gen. 
 Stanley, who had had the honor of leading the advance, 
 now had the honor of guarding the rear — a position which 
 might bring upon him the whole of Hood's army, but 
 which he held tiU all of the Twenty-third Corps had passed, 
 when silently regiment after regiment formed in column, 
 and followed. 
 
 That night march will never be forgotten by those who 
 were in it, or those who saw it ; for it was in full view of 
 the camp-fii'es of the enemy. If the army had marched in 
 single column, with its baggage trains, it would have ex- 
 tended fourteen miles I This was shortened one-half by 
 doubling up, for which there was room on the turnpike, so 
 that the baggage train was kej^t in motion, with a column 
 of troops marching at its side, ready for attack. The 
 cavaky under Forrest were hovering along the line, trying 
 to strike a blow. Cox says, " Forrest's troopers made an 
 occasional dash at the long waggon train, but only in one 
 or two instances did they succeed in reaching it"; and yet 
 Hood says (as if he wished to emphasize the difference 
 between this dashing cavalry officer and Cheatham), 
 
ARRIVAL IN FRANKLIN. 221 
 
 "Forrest gallantly opposed the enemy to the full extent 
 of his power." If so, it is a wonder that he did not 
 accomplish more. Perhaps the explanation is that, as an 
 old officer once told me, "cavaby do not like to attack 
 infantry in the dark. The long roll of musketry empties 
 the saddles and the horses rush about in confusion." And 
 so it is not surprising that, in spite of such "dashes" here 
 and there, the column continued its march. The night 
 seemed very long, but the tramp never ceased till the 
 troops halted in the outskirts of FrankUn. The advance 
 arrived before daybreak, and the officers who led the way 
 rode up to the Carter House (the fii'st that they came to), 
 and woke up the old man, the father of the Colonel, who 
 showed us over the battlefield (who had been in the 
 Confederate army, and was then at home on parole), and 
 politely informed him that they would take possession of his 
 house as their headquarters, to which, knowing the usages 
 of war, he did not object. One who was in that group 
 says : " While sitting out in front of the house, waiting 
 for the head of the column to arrive, ever}i;hing was as still 
 as the grave, and there was time to ponder on what the 
 day would bring forth. Few anticipated the dreadful and 
 bloody outcome, but rather looked for another flank move- 
 ment, as at Columbia. Presently the tramp of horses in 
 the distance, and the rattle of tin cups against bayonets, 
 told us that the troops were coming." * As they came up, 
 
 *ror this and many touches which give vividness to the picture, 
 I am indebted to a most spirited accoimt of the battle, and of the 
 campaign of which it was a part, entitled "The Eetretit from Pulaski 
 to Nashville," a paper read before the Ohio Commandery of the Mili- 
 tary Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, December 1st, 
 1836, by Companion Levi T. Scofield, late Captain U. S. Volunteers. 
 (Published by H. C. Sherick & Co., Cincinnati.) It is written in the 
 style of a soldier, with all the fire of one who describes scenes in 
 
228 A CRITICAL SITUATION. 
 
 they were turned to the right and left of the road, that the 
 trains might pass through into the town. General Scho- 
 field at once pressed on to the river, where he had hoped 
 to find the bridges standing, and pontoons, for which he 
 had sent urgent messages to Thomas, ready to lay others, 
 to pass over the artillery and baggage waggons. Instead 
 of this, he found that the bridge connecting with the 
 tiirnpike had been swept away, and that there was not a 
 single pontoon with which to construct another. All that 
 remained was the railroad bridge, which had to be planked 
 to make it passable for waggons, and even then furnished 
 but a slender resource for the i^assage of an army. Find- 
 ing this condition, he returned to the front in a state of 
 great anxiety. Thorough soldier as he was, he took the 
 chances of war as they came, but for once he was taken 
 aback at the unexpected position in which he was i^laced. 
 "I never saw him," said General Cox, "so disturbed," 
 as he now contemi^lated the probability, which a soldier 
 dreads, of having to fight a battle with his back to a river, 
 when a disaster is likely to prove fatal. [The orders of 
 Hood were to " drive them into the river " !] But it was no 
 time for idle regrets. Gen. Cox was placed in command 
 of the two divisions of the Twenty -third Corps, his own and 
 Gen. Ruger's, and ordered to entrench strongly on a line 
 running to the right and left of the turnpike. This was 
 a new task for the soldiers, weary as they were with their 
 all night's march, covering a distance of twenty-three miles. 
 They were almost dead with fatigue, but not a moment 
 was to be lost. As soon as they had snatched a hasty 
 breakfast, they were set to work with spades and shovels, 
 
 ■which he was an actor ; and yet, we are informed on the best author- 
 ity, that it is as accurate in its details as it is picturesque. It is these 
 old soldiers who tell what they have seen, who furnish the most 
 authentic materials of history. 
 
DISPOSITION OF THE TROOPS. 229 
 
 and in two or tliree hours had dug a ditch a mile and 
 a half in length, throwing up the earth on the inside to 
 make a breastwork (to which some added a log on the 
 crest, raised three inches to leave space for their rifles), 
 along which at inteiTals there were openings for the bat- 
 teries ; all which being done, they threw themselves upon 
 the ground for a sleep which to many of them was to be 
 their last. 
 
 General Schofield too was glad of a short interval of 
 rest. For several days and nights he had had little sleep, 
 except such as he got in the saddle. On the march he 
 could clasp his hands round the pommel, and for a few 
 minutes relapse into a state of forgetfulness, which, if not 
 so refreshing as rest in a quiet bed or by the camp-fire, at 
 least kept him from the point of utter exhaustion. So 
 when the position had been made secure, he went to the 
 house of a good Union woman (it was pointed out to us as 
 we rode through the street), and threw himself on a bed 
 and fell asleep, and rested for an hour and a half, till he 
 was awakened for orders. 
 
 All the forenoon the troops came pouring in, the last 
 to arrive being those that had remained at Spring HiU. 
 The Confederate army was but a few miles behind, some- 
 times approaching nearer, when the Federal rear-guard 
 turned at bay, and showed such a grim front, with its 
 batteries ranged so as to sweep the road, that its pursuers 
 kept at a respectful distance. It was not till a few hours 
 later that they were to come to close quarters. As the 
 different divisions reached Franklin, there was another 
 reversal of positions ; for as those that arrived in the 
 morning were now entrenched, they remained in their 
 works ; while the Fourth Corps under Gen. Stanley, which 
 consisted of three divisions, was thus distributed : that of 
 Kimball was placed at the extreme right of the line ; that 
 
230 HOOD DECIDES TO ATTACK. 
 
 of Wagner was cut in two (two brigades being stationed 
 outside of the works where they met a hard fate ; while a 
 third brigade, under Colonel Opdycke, was brought within 
 the lines, and placed in the rear as a reserve ; and, as we 
 shall see, made one of the most brilliant charges of the 
 day); while AVood's division marched through the town, and 
 took its place on the other side of the river, where Stanley 
 joined Schofield, and remained with him tiU the afternoon, 
 as both fully expected that the attack of Hood's army 
 would be aimed in that quarter rather than in front. The 
 disposition of the troops is indicated on the map of Frank- 
 lin, that I have copied, from General Cox's History. From 
 this it will be seen that the position of the town is well 
 fitted for defence, as it is surrounded on three sides by 
 a river, and is open only on one. Across this open front, 
 swelling out into a projecting curve, was drawn the line of 
 entrenchments, to one end of which, near the railway, we 
 had first driven to get a general view of the field. 
 
 From that j^oint we had pushed on two and a half miles 
 out of town over the Columbia turnj)ike, till we came to 
 where the road passes over high ground between two hills. 
 Here, leaving our horses in charge of our black rider, we 
 ascended a hill on which were a few scattered trees, on the 
 brow of which stood an old linden, tall and gaunt, with its 
 naked arms lifted against the sky. " Here," said Mi-. Cun- 
 ningham, " on the day of the battle, I saw General Hood 
 ride forward alone on his horse, and halting near this 
 tree, take out his field-glass, and gaze long and earnestly 
 across the plain at the j)osition of the enemy. All who 
 were in sight of him watched him with eager eyes, for 
 on the decision of that moment depended the fate of thou- 
 sands. Presently he turned back to General Stewart, to 
 whom I heard him say, ' We will make the fight ! ' and 
 who received his extended hand with a sadness, which 
 
FORMING m LINE OF BATTLE. 231 
 
 seemed to say, ' We may not meet again ! ' The die was 
 cast. The order was instantly given to the troops, who, 
 as they came over the hill, deployed, stretching out to the 
 right and left, and forming in line of battle. On the 
 opposite hill a military band had taken its position, and 
 played some stirring Southern airs as the brave men 
 marched down into the vaUey, which was to be to thou- 
 sands of them the valley of death. The whole scene was 
 the most thrilling that I ever saw in war." 
 
 It was now the middle of the afternoon, and it took an 
 hour for the army to defile into position. This hour, as 
 may be supposed, was one of intense, though suppressed, 
 excitement. We hear much of the noise of battle, but the 
 stillness which precedes it is not less awful, as column after 
 column, with measured step, takes its place in the ranks of 
 death. It is the stilhiess which precedes the tempest, as 
 thunder clouds gather darkly but silently. It is not till 
 they touch each other that the storm bursts. 
 
 As the Confederate lines thus formed in front, General 
 Hood rode forward to a hiU, fi-om which he could have a 
 nearer view, so as to watch every movement, and be in 
 position at once to receive reports and to give orders; 
 while across the plain, on another hill overlooking the same 
 scene, stood General Schofield, giving quick glances along 
 his own lines, and away to the dark masses of men that 
 were forming in mighty battalions for the death struggle. 
 
 It was now four o'clock, and as it was the last day of 
 autumn, and therefore one of the shortest days of the 
 year, the sun was sinking in the west ; but as the light 
 struck across the plain, it shone on one of the most daz- 
 zling sights in the world — a great army drawn up in 
 "Battle's magnificently stern array." 
 
 These preparations were not unobserved. As it was an 
 open plain between the two armies, every movement of the 
 
232 A GREAT DISASTER. 
 
 enemy was distinctly seen. Going to a projecting angle of 
 the works. General Cox mounted the parapet, and with his 
 field-glass took a long look at the large bodies of troops 
 that were being massed at the foot of the hills ; then 
 mounting his horse, he rode to every point of the line, to 
 see that all was ready tor the attack. He had not long to 
 wait, for ah-eady the troops were in motion. The day was 
 nearly done, but enough remained to gain an immortal vic- 
 tory, and at that moment the drojoping of a flag by General 
 Cheatham gave the signal for the whole line to advance. 
 
 The battle began on the extreme left with a premature 
 attack, which failed from its very precipitation. Gen. Bate 
 (afterwards Governor of Tennessee, and now Senator) was 
 a dashing soldier, and, being eager for the combat, pushed 
 forward his division only to discover, as it came within range 
 of the enemy, that it was in advance of connecting lines. 
 As his men looked to the right for a supj)ort, they saw that 
 the other divisions were far behind ; and as they had to 
 take the whole fii'e, they retreated. Major Vaiilx was an 
 eye-witness of the attack and the repulse, and cotdd not 
 but regret, while he admired, the too impetuous valor of 
 his brothers-in-arms. 
 
 But the fortune of war changed as the Confederates 
 advanced in tremendous force, and it was now the turn of 
 the Federals to experience a great disaster. In arranging 
 the defences, two brigades had been placed outside of the 
 town, across the turnpike, not as a position to be held, 
 but simply to check and delay the attack. They were to 
 fire a few rounds of artillery, and then to withdraw within 
 the works and take their place in the line of defence, or 
 to be held as a reserve. But as the apjDroaching columns 
 drew nearer, the officer in command, more brave than wise, 
 (who seems to have thought it the jDi'oj^er thing for a 
 soldier to fight the enemy anywhere, and with any odds, 
 
AVHO WAS IT THAT BLUNDERED ? 233 
 
 even unsupported and alone,) ordered liis infantry to open 
 fire, as if the battle were to be fougbt on that ground.* 
 
 * That it was the commander of the division who blundered at 
 this awful moment, is but too evident. The author of " The Ke- 
 treat from Pulaski to Nashville," thus reports what he himself saw 
 and heard: "The writer was standing on the parapet of the 100th 
 Ohio Regiment, urging the men to strengthen their works, and talk- 
 ing with General Wagner. The General was reclining on his elbow, 
 with a staff or crutch in his hand : he had fallen with his horse and 
 was lame. We remarked that the musketry firing was becoming 
 more rapid, also from the two guns in front. By-and-by a staff 
 officer rode fast from one of the brigades, and reported excited- 
 ly, ' The enemy are forming in heavy columns. We can see them 
 distinctly in the open timber and all along our front.' Wagner said 
 firmly 'Stand there and fight them,' and then turning to me, said, 
 'And that stubbed, curly-headed Dutchman,' meaning one of his 
 brigade commanders [General Conrad], ' will fight them too.' ' But, 
 General,' the officer said, ' the ordere are not to stand, except against 
 cavalry and skirmishers ; but to fall back behind the main line if a 
 general engagement is threatened.' In a short time another officer 
 rode in from the right in great haste, and told him the Rebels were 
 advancing in heavy force. He received the same order. The officer 
 added, ' But Hood's entire army is coming.' Then Wagner struck 
 the gi'ound with his stick, and said ' Never mind : fight them ! ' Soon 
 we heard the Eebel yeU and heavy firing." 
 
 It was a dreadful mistake, for which he had to suffer in the way 
 that a soldier feels most : for in less than a week, General Thomas, 
 after careful investigation, relieved him of his command, and that 
 was the end of his mihtary career. But soldiers are generous in 
 their judgments, and quick to forgive the mistakes of one who has 
 been brave, and so the writer of the above adds: " Wagner was a 
 great fighter. It is said that bullets rattled out of his clothes for a 
 
 month after the battle of Stone Eiver He is now dead ; his 
 
 soul is in heaven with the heroes ; and let us draw over this one error 
 the mantle of charity, and cherish the memory of his personal valor 
 and dauntless courage on the hard-fought battlefields of the West." 
 
234 WHY WERE THESE BRIGADES THERE ? 
 
 The only explanation of his thus acting, not only without 
 orders, but against orders, is that he "lost his head" — 
 a very bad thing to lose in a battle.* It were better that 
 
 * This terrible disaster at the opening of the battle has often 
 led to the inquiry, why these brigades were placed in such an 
 exposed position ? And gentle home critics think that they 
 detect here a fault of strategy. A word of explanation, with 
 the help of the map, may relieve their minds, and show them 
 that there was no mistake at all in the disposition of the Union 
 army. 
 
 The reader must bear in mind the position of Gen. Schofield 
 on that morning. He had not planned for a battle at Franklin, 
 but had intended, in accordance with the orders of Thomas, to 
 continue his march to Nashville, as he would have done if he had 
 found bridges or pontoons to cross the Harpeth river. Disap- 
 pointed in this, he had to change his plan, and prepare for the 
 contingency of battle where he was. As yet he was wholly in the 
 dark as to the intentions of the enemy. Judging from the move- 
 ment of Hood at Columbia, in crossing the river and endeavoring 
 to get in his rear, it seemed probable that he would repeat the 
 same movement at Franklin ; and instead of attacking in front, 
 where the Twenty-third corps held a strong line of defence, 
 would cross the river, and making a circuit, move round the town, 
 BO as to take the Federal army in the rear, and cut ofl its retreat 
 to Nashville. In anticipation of such a movement, one division 
 of the Fourth corps, to be followed by others, if necessary, 
 had been got across the river to the bluff on the other side, 
 where General Schofield, from the earthworks (designated on 
 the map as Fort Granger, the only point of sufficient elevation 
 to command a view of the whole field), was able to watch the 
 advance of the enemy, and change his own movements to meet 
 the attack from whichever quarter it might come. 
 
 It was with an eye in both directions, that the two brigades 
 had been placed in front, to observe the movements of the 
 enemy ; and if he should turn towards the river, to swing round 
 with him, keeping in his front, and fending off the attack till the 
 interior lines could be reformed to meet the tremendous shock 
 that must follow. The plan was perfect in every detail. As Gen. 
 Cox, repelling the criticisms which had been made on his com- 
 
POSITION OF THE ARMIES. 
 
 235 
 
 BATTLE-FIELD OF FRANKLIN. 
 
236 CONFEDERATES DRIVEN BACK. 
 
 he had lost his life, for by this act of madness he lost a 
 thousand men ! The result was what might have been ex- 
 pected. As the enemy's line of battle overlaj^ped these 
 brigades on both sides, it instantly closed in upon them, 
 and poured in such a fire that in a few moments they 
 were utterly broken, and rushed at fuU sj)eed back to the 
 entrenchments, the Confederates following in hot pursuit. 
 This was a double disaster. Not only were the brigades 
 themselves overwhelmed, but the whole line had to hold 
 its fire for fear of killing its own men ; and so when the 
 column rushed into the works, their pursuers rushed in 
 after them, and were inside of the Federal lines, where 
 they seized the shotted guns, and whirled them about to 
 pour their contents into the flying crowd. But in the wild 
 ujDroar, even the horses had caught the panic, and tearing 
 away fled down the road, wdth the limbers containing the 
 primers, so that the guns could not be discharged ; and in 
 the midst of this confusion, the tide of battle rolled back 
 again, and all was recovered. 
 
 But this was not accomplished without a terrific con- 
 flict. In the rear of the line the ground descends in a 
 gentle slope, and here a reserve brigade of two thousand 
 men, under Colonel Opdycke, had been ordered to he down, 
 that they might not be exposed till they were needed. 
 They had been warned of the danger of a break in the 
 line, and now, at the call of their leader, they sprang to 
 their feet, and rushed upon their assailants with the bay- 
 
 manding officer for this disposition, as also for his being at Fort 
 Granger instead of being with him at the front, said witli 
 emphasis, "General Schofleld was exactly where he ought to 
 have been, and the orders issued were exactly what they ought 
 to have been." He might have added, that if those orders had 
 been strictly obeyed, trhe result would have been not only the 
 defeat but the entire destruction of Hood's army. 
 
GENERALS RALLYING THE MEN. 23T 
 
 onet. So sudden was this apparition of armed men, start- 
 ing uj) as if they had literally come out of the ground, 
 and so tremendous their onset, that some accounts make 
 their commander the hero of the battle. It woidd be more 
 correct to say one of the heroes : for there is no need to 
 exalt him at the expense of others, who shared in the 
 same achievement. This brave officer now sleeps in a sol- 
 dier's grave, and no praise can be too great for his com^age 
 at that decisive moment. But with his brigade were the 
 portions of the two divisions under ReiUy and Strickland 
 that had been pushed back by the inish of Wagner's men, 
 with the avalanche of Confederates behind ; but who, as 
 soon as the mingled mass swept by, so that they could 
 distinguish frien.l from foe, reformed under those gallant 
 soldiers. AU those in high command did their duty on 
 this great day. General Stanley had been so sure that 
 the attack of the enemy, when it came, would be on the 
 other side of the river, where he was, that he had remained 
 there with General Schofield till the firing began. Then 
 he mounted his horse, and spurred to the front just in 
 time to meet Wagner's brigades (that belonged to his own 
 Fourth Corps) in fuU retreat ; and exerted himself with 
 the utmost energy to rally them, when his horse was shot 
 under him, and he was wounded, and compelled, very much 
 against his wiU, to return to his quarters for surgical skill. 
 This threw the whole burden of command upon General 
 Cox at a moment when the fate of the army was at stake. 
 The imminent peril inspired him to increased activity, so 
 that he seemed to fly from point to point. The voice of 
 command could not be heard in the uj^roar of battle ; but 
 soldiers along the Hue could see that figure waving his 
 sword in air, and dashing wherever the combat was the 
 deepest and the danger the greatest ; and catching the 
 inspiration, they refonned their broken ranks, and rushed 
 
238 ATTACK OF CHEATHAM^S CORPS. 
 
 upon tlie foe with a fury that was irresistible. The issue 
 is briefly told : " There was a few minutes' fierce melee, 
 but the guns were retaken, and all the men in gray 
 inside the parapet were dead or prisoners." 
 
 General Schofield, who was watching the battle from 
 the Fort, had felt his heart sink as he heard the yells with 
 which the Confederates rushed over the works, and saw 
 his own men swept away by the torrent. For the moment 
 his heart stood still, for it seemed as if the battle was lost. 
 But he soon breathed again, for though, at the distance he 
 was, he could not see the forces engaged, since the roll of 
 musketry was so incessant that fi'iend and foe were wrap- 
 ped in a dense cloud of smoke ; yet, as the space behind 
 was clear, and he could see that there icere no more men 
 running to the rear, he knew that his troops had regained 
 their position. 
 
 This tremendous attack, which had threatened to de- 
 stroy the Federal army, had been made in the centre by 
 General Cheatham. Those who saw it coming say that 
 never was there seen in war a grander sight than that of 
 this whole Corps, massed in one mighty avalanche, sweep- 
 ing down with a force that, it seemed, must be irresistible. 
 One who looked at it with a soldier's eye, in which admi- 
 ration mingled with dread, draws this picture : " The day 
 had been bright and warm ; the afternoon sun was setting 
 on the distant hills; and in the hazy, yellow light, and 
 with their yellowish-brown uniforms, those in the front 
 ranks seemed to be magnified in size : one could almost 
 imagine them to be phantoms sweeping along in the air. 
 On they came, and in the centre their lines seemed to be 
 many deep and unbroken, their red, tattered flags, as numer- 
 ous as though every company bore them, flaring in the sun's 
 rays, with conspicuous grouj^s of general and staff officers 
 in their midst, and a battery or two in splendid line charg- 
 
GREAT LOSS OF OFFICERS. 239 
 
 ing along between the divisions." This magnificence was 
 terribly marred when the broken Federal line was restored, 
 and the troops poured in their deadly fire. But still the 
 charge was renewed with incredible fury. Again and again 
 the Confederates rushed to the assault, even when it saemed 
 hopeless, for the fire never slackened an instant. Instead of 
 coming in fitful volleys, it was one continuous roar, sweep- 
 ing away whole ranks of men ; so that the survivors, as they 
 staggered on, had to pass over the dying and the dead. 
 Major Vaulx told us of the terrible slaughter in what 
 passed under his own observation. He said : " Cheatham's 
 old division (which still retained his name after he had 
 been promoted to the command of a corps), was com- 
 manded by General John C. Brown. I was riding at his 
 side when a ball struck him, and he fell forward on his 
 horse's neck. I at once dismounted, and with others 
 lifted him off and placed him in an ambulance, to be car- 
 ried from the field, when I mounted and rode on, till of 
 five general officers attached to our division, besides the 
 commander, who had just been wounded, three were 
 kiUed, and the fifth captirred inside the Federal works ; 
 while of the staff officers attached to the division and to 
 the four brigades, out of twelve, all but one were either 
 killed or wounded I Such a loss of general and staff offi- 
 cers, I never saw before in any battle that I was in, and 
 indeed do not think I ever read of in war." 
 
 While this murderous conflict was going on in the cen- 
 tre, another great Corps (that of Stewart), on the right of 
 Cheatham, was converging towards the Federal lines. It 
 came on with unbroken ranks till it got within range of 
 tho guns from the other side of the river, which swept 
 that part of the field, and the heavy shot plunging into 
 the sohd columns, cut long lanes of death. But " officers 
 on horseback and afoot were at every gap, trying to close 
 
240 Stewart's corps. 
 
 them up," and the unfallen brave kept on till, as they came 
 nearer and nearer the works, their numbers grew fewer. 
 Never did men fight more desperately, and yet more hope- 
 lessly, as even Major Vaulx had to admit. To one who has 
 shared in the fierce conflict of battle, it always seema as if 
 there might have been done something more ; and in the 
 morning, as we were overlooking the field, and he recalled 
 every feature of the great struggle, he had felt again all 
 the excitement of the hour. Standing up in the carriage, 
 and looking intently at the ground in front, along which 
 Stewart's men had swept up to the Federal lines, he took 
 in the whole scene, and it seemed as if a little more elan, 
 or a thousand or two more men, might have carried the 
 day, and he exclaimed, "By the Eternal! Stewart ought 
 to have broken through ! " It was the natural feeling of a 
 soldier, and yet in it he forgot that the Confederates, fear- 
 less as they were, were met with a courage equal to their 
 own ; and later in the day, when we came to ride over the 
 ground by which Stewart's Corps advanced, he saw at once 
 the concentrated fire which it had to encounter, and was 
 able to do more full justice to his brave companions-in- 
 arms in recognizing that they had done all that human 
 valor could do. 
 
 A gentleman recently living in New York, who was in 
 command of a battery of steel guns, told me that as he 
 moved forward, he passed over the hill on which General 
 Hood had taken his position, in whose presence he sud- 
 denly found himself, and could not resist the imprdse to 
 pause a moment to see how a Commander looked in the 
 midst of a battle. As he described the scene, " General 
 Hood was sitting on a flat rock at the foot of a tree, his 
 legs (one of which was of wood, to replace the original 
 that had been lost in battle) extended in front, between 
 which a fire had been lighted, and was still smouldering. 
 
THE LULLS OF THE BATTLE. 241 
 
 At the instant one of General Cheatham's staff rode up in 
 great excitement to report that he had carried a part of 
 the Federal line, but could not hold it unless immediately 
 reinforced. ' How does Gen. Cheatham estimate his loss? 
 asked Gen. Hood. 'At one-half of his whole command in 
 killed and wounded,' was the reply. At this he raised his 
 hands, clasping them together, and exclaimed ' O my God ! 
 this awful, awful day ! ' Then recovering himself, he turn- 
 ed to one of his staff and said • Go to Gen. Stephen D. Lee, 
 and tell him to move up to the support of Gen. Cheatham, 
 putting in Johnson's division first, and Clayton's next.' 
 As my battery was between the two, I knew that my time 
 had come, and moved on with the rest." 
 
 And now the battle raged all along the Hnes. The first 
 success of the Confederates proved their ruin, as it had 
 been so easily gained that it led them to repeat the 
 attack, pouring division after division upon the works, 
 only to see them melt away under that terrible fire. After 
 these terrific charges, came what was not less impressive- - 
 the lulls of the battle. First, there was a sound in the 
 distance, as of a great multitude in motion, coupled with 
 a fearful yell, which culminated in a rush and roar, as the 
 living human wave struck upon the beach, and broke and 
 rolled back again. Then for a few minutes there was a 
 lull, as the enemy were gathering their forces to renew the 
 onset — a comparative silence, broken only by the groans 
 of the wounded and the d^ing. One who was in the battle 
 writes me that the charge itself was not so dreadful as 
 these moments of expectation. Then rose the same ter- 
 rific yell, and on they came again with the same desperate 
 courage, but not with the same confidence : for they came, 
 not with erect, martial air, but with heads bent low, as 
 when facing a tempest, and caps drawn over their eyes, 
 »s if to shut from their sight the fate that awaited them. 
 
242 ATTACKS CONTINUED IN THE NIGHT. 
 
 At some points of the line the fire was such as no troops 
 could stand long. Mr. Fullton, of the MaxweU House in 
 Nashville, told me that he belonged to a troop of cavahy, 
 which, when earthworks were to be attacked, were dis- 
 mounted, ever}'' fourth man being detailed to hold the 
 horses, while the rest served as infantry. As they advanced 
 to the attack, they had hardly come within range before 
 twelve of his company fell, and it seemed as if the whole 
 would be swept away if they had not been ordered to 
 throw themselves on the ground ; and there, he said, " we 
 lay the greater part of the night, not daring to raise our 
 heads, nor to crawl forward even a few rods to give succor 
 to the wounded and dying, whose groans we could hear 
 distinctly right in front of us." 
 
 Driven back at one point, the charge was renewed at 
 another with the same desperate courage, but always with 
 the same result, until it was evident that fui'ther efforts 
 were only a useless sacrifice of human life ; and still the 
 rage of battle was such that the attacks were repeated at 
 intervals far into the night. 
 
 All these incidents of the day were detailed to me with 
 great minuteness, as we rode over that battle plain, by 
 those who had been actors in the scenes they described. 
 
 As we came back along the Columbia turnpike to the 
 edge of the town, Mr. Carter met us and conducted us to 
 the old Gin-House, which figures in all the accounts of the 
 battle ; and along the line of the entrenchments, pointing 
 out where this or that Confederate division charged, and 
 where the leaders fell. He had a theory of his own, accord- 
 ing to which, if Ms plan had been followed, the result would 
 have been otherwise. He was quite sure that if Gen. Bate, 
 instead of rushing headlong into the fight, and getting se- 
 verely crippled before the battle had really be,(^un, had been 
 a little less impetuous, and moved xovlqA farther to the left, 
 
THE CARTER HOUSE. 243 
 
 he would have found the Federal line weaker, and might 
 have made a charge that would have led to victory ! Col. 
 McEwen told how Forrest, the famous cavalry leader, went 
 to Hood, and asked permission to cross the river with his 
 mounted men, when, as he said, " he would flank the 
 Federals out of their position in fifteen minutes ! " But 
 the Commander had made his own plan of battle ; and 
 being in an angry and imperious temper that day, was not 
 in a mood to receive suggestions, or to listen to the pro- 
 posal of any manoeuvre other than that of direct battle, 
 f,nd answered haughtily to the bold trooper who would 
 jlanh the enemy, " No, no ! Charge them out I " 
 
 But leaving speculations as to what might have been, we 
 proceed to observe what actually took place. IMr. Carter 
 now led the way to his house, which was the very centre 
 of the battle. As it stands fronting on the Columbia turn- 
 pike, which runs through the town, and was but a few 
 rods in the rear of the Federal breastworks, it was in the 
 angle of two lines of battle : for, when the brigades of 
 Wagner came flying in utter rout, they swept past its very 
 door, followed by the Confederates, and the two sides 
 fought around the dwelling ; and when the onset was 
 stayed, that portion of the line which was nearest was 
 still held by the Confederates, while the Federals formed 
 another line a few rods in the rear, so that the house was 
 left between the two lines, and received the fire of both. 
 
 At this time the house contained a large family. The 
 mother had died ten years before, but the father was still 
 living, and with him were a son (who was now our guide,) 
 and four daughters, a daughter-in-law, and several chil- 
 dren. Of course, had they foreseen how near the battle 
 would come to them, they would have fled to the other 
 end of the town, or across the river. But in the early 
 part of the day, while this was the headquarters there 
 
244 TAKING REFUGE IN THE CELLAR. 
 
 was perfect discipline, nobody was distui-bed, and they felt 
 that they were safest under their own roof. And when at 
 last the storm came, it biu'st upon them so suddenly that 
 it was too late to escape. There was only one spot of 
 safety, the cellar, and there they all took refuge. Here, 
 self-imprisoned, they could not see what was going on 
 about them, but they heard the roar above their heads, for 
 the thunderings and lightnings were incessant. As the 
 mass of soldiers surged round the dwelling, some who 
 shrank from the awfvd fire crowded into the cellar way, 
 when the family retreated behind a partition, but as there 
 was no means of barring the door, the intruders pressed in 
 there also, and into a third underground refuge, when, as 
 IMr. Carter himself tells the tale, he "turned upon them 
 and cursed them and drove them out ! " But even in this 
 dark hiding-jDlace, he could look through the gi-ated win- 
 dow, and ask the " Yankee soldiers " how the battle was 
 going ! 
 
 After a time the fury of the battle abated, for the first 
 shock, which was the most tremendous of all, had spent 
 itseK in an hour. Then darkness came, so that the oppos- 
 ing lines were partly hidden from each other. But still 
 they fought on, even when they could see to fire only by 
 the flashing of each other's guns. 
 
 As we came up from the cellar, and went round the 
 house, we saw that its southern side, which was exposed to 
 the Confederate fire, was riddled with shot, as were all the 
 outbuildings having the same exposure. How deadly it 
 proved was shown by the fact that IVIr. Carter counted 
 fifty- seven dead, besides the wounded, in his door-yard the 
 next morning. 
 
 Leading the way across the garden, my friend Cun- 
 ningham stopped under a pear-tree, which recalled the 
 memory of that fearful night. It was in the line of the 
 
"keep firing! " 245 
 
 earthworks thrown up by the Union soldiers, outside of 
 which was a ditch. Of this part of the line the Confeder- 
 ates had got possession, and held it ; but so terrible was 
 the fire that again and again the parapet was swept of the 
 heads that rose above it. The trench below was filled with 
 the dying and the dead. Standing with one foot on the 
 bodies of his fallen comrades, and the other on the bank, he 
 rested his gun — a short Enfield rifle that he had been per- 
 mitted to carry, as he was so young and small — on the top 
 of the works. The line had been so thinned out that only 
 a solitary fellow-soldier stood near him, and now he was 
 shot, and fell heavily (he was a large man) against him, 
 and tumbled over into the mass of dead below. Thus left 
 alone, he asked General Strahl, who had stood for a long 
 while in the trench, and passed up loaded guns to men 
 posted on the embankment, " "What had we better do ? " 
 The answer was " Keep firing ! " But Strahl himself was 
 soon shot, and while being carried to the rear, was struck 
 again and instantly killed. He was succeeded by Colonel 
 Stafford, who also was killed, and sank in such a position 
 that he was braced up by the mass of bodies around him, 
 so that when the morning came, he was standing there 
 stark and cold, as if still ready to give command to the 
 army of the dead ! 
 
 These were ghastly memories to come back after the 
 lapse of so many years. How changed the scene now! 
 It was the month of March, and akeady the breath of 
 Spring was in the air, and the little pear-tree, which 
 had hved through all the storm and tempest of that fear- 
 ful night, though scarred in many places, yet had healed 
 its wounds, and was isutting forth its leaves fresh and 
 gi'een, as if it had never heard the sound of battle. So, 
 while men die, the life of nature keeps on, and even di-aws 
 nourishment from their blood. Toi-ning to my companion, 
 
246 THE BATTERY IN THE LOCUST GROVE. 
 
 I said " Do you remember tlie lines of Byron on a friend 
 of bis youth ■who j)erished at Waterloo : 
 
 ' And when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, 
 "Which living waves where thou didst cease to live, 
 And saw around mo the wide fields revive. 
 And earth come forth with promise of the Spring, 
 I turned from all she brought to those she could not bring ' ? " 
 
 From the house, IMr. Carter and Colonel McEwen led 
 the way past the farm buildings and across the back lot, 
 that had been the scene of a fierce struggle, to a meadow, 
 in which stood at the time of the battle a locust grove, 
 where was planted a battery that inflicted a galling fire 
 upon the Confederate lines. It was for the capture of 
 this battery that Hood is said to have issued his order in 
 the dramatic style of which Sam Jones makes such use in 
 one of his sermons.* 
 
 *I quote from the little volume of Letters pubUshed three or 
 four years ago imder the title "Blood is Thickek thanWateb" 
 (pp. 60, 61): 
 
 "It is said that the Confederate line as it advanced was enfiladed 
 by a battery planted in a grove of the black locust trees so common 
 in that region. Seeing his men cut to pieces, General Hood, who 
 was watching the battle, sent one of his aids with the following 
 order : ' Give my compliments to General Cleburne, and tell him that 
 I ask at his hands the battery in the locust grove.' The aid disap- 
 peared, and quickly returned with the message, ' General Cleburne 
 is dead, sir ! ' Again the Commander spoke, ' Give my compliments 
 to General Adams, and tell him that I ask at his hands the battery 
 in the locust grove.' Again the message is returned, ' General Adams 
 is dead, sir ! ' Once more went the unflinching order to a third com- 
 mander, with the same result. The moral is evident. The thrice- 
 repeated command is meant to illustrate the duty of unquestioning 
 obedience, and, as might be supposed, is used with startling effect 
 on a Confederate audience, though the fiery preacher afterward 
 introduced it in one of his great meetings in Chicago, when, after 
 
FINDING A SON AMONG THE WOUNDED. 247 
 
 But here is an incident whicli does not need to be told 
 with an eye to dramatic effect, since nothing can add to its 
 touching character. Mr. Carter, who was now walking at 
 my side, had a brother, Theodoric, who when the war 
 broke out was twenty-three years old, and though he had 
 just entered the profession of law, was so carried away 
 by the excitement of the hour that he threw down his 
 books and enlisted in the ranks as a private (he afterwards 
 became a quarter-master) in the Western Confederate 
 Army. His service took him away from Tennessee, and I 
 think his brother told me that he had not been home in 
 two years. He was now in Hood's army, and perhaps, as 
 he came over the crest of the hill, he caught sight of the 
 old dwelhng, where his family were troubled with anxious 
 thoughts of the absent son and brother. In the night, 
 word came that he had been wounded, and was some- 
 where on the field, perhaps dead or dying ; and about two 
 o'clock the father and son and one of the daughters went 
 in search of him. Dividing into two parties, the son took 
 one coiu'se, and the father and daughter another, and thus 
 they went from point to point, turning the light of their 
 lanterns into the faces of those scattered thickly over the 
 ground. At length the father and daughter found him, 
 mortally wounded, but still breathing, though unconscious. 
 He had sacrificed his life to his chivakous courage. His 
 duties did not require him to be on the field, but he volun- 
 teered to serve as aid to General T. B. Smith, and was 
 advancing to the charge when, about a hundred and sev- 
 
 winding up his hearers to the highest pitch, he gave the word of 
 command somewhat after tliis fashion: 'As Adjutant of the Lord of 
 Hosts, I ask at your hands the city of Cldcago ; that you compel it 
 to surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ ! —an undertaking more diffi- 
 cult than to storm any battery that ever hurled death in the face 
 of a foe." 
 
248 THE SOLDIER DYING AT HOME. 
 
 enty-five yards southwest of his dwelling, and eighty yards 
 in front of the locust grove, he received two fatal wounds 
 and fell from his horse. Thus it proved that, amid the 
 horrors of that fearful night, when his family were cower- 
 ing in terror at the roar of the battle around them, with 
 an agony intensified by the thought of where he might be, 
 he was in fact lying on the cold ground, bleeding his life 
 away, near to the old home, almost within sound of their 
 voices, yet beyond their reach and theii' aid. Tenderly 
 they lifted him up and carried him to his father's house, 
 where the next morning one who was an eye-witness teUs 
 me he saw the body of the long-absent son and brother, 
 around which his sisters hung with the utmost tenderness, 
 caressing the almost lifeless form, stroking the pale cheeks, 
 and whispering gently amid their tears, " Brother's come 
 home ! " He had come home indeed, though it was only 
 to die (he continued to breathe thirty-six hours) ; but it 
 is something which is not always given to a soldier, to 
 draw his last breath under his father's roof, and to be laid 
 in his last sleej) beside the dust of his kindred.* 
 
 * To these personal reminiscences of one of my companions, I may 
 add this, told me by another, Col. McEwen : 
 
 " General Kimball occupied my house as his headquarters, at 
 which occurred this strange incident. About four o'clock, after 
 the General had left for the field, there lingered a Colonel from 
 Indianapolis in my parlor; he was a lawyer, and a nice man; he 
 asked my daughters to sing and play him a piece of music. They 
 hesitated, but I answered for them, ' Yes.' My daughter asked what 
 they should play V He replied that he had not been in a parlor since 
 the battle of Oak Hill was fought, and that he did not know one 
 piece of music from another, except field music. I then spoke and 
 asked the young ladies to sing and play a piece which had recently 
 come out, ' Just before the Battle, Mother,' telling the Colonel that it 
 was a new piece. At my request, they sat down, and played and 
 
EVACUATING THE TOWN. 249 
 
 About half past ten o'clock Gen. Schofield sent orders 
 to Gen. Cox that at midnight the troops shovild be with- 
 drawn — an order which the latter received with great pain, 
 as he felt that there was now an opportunity to destroy 
 Hood's army. The prisoners who had been taken, or who 
 had come in and given themselves up, reported that they 
 were all cut to pieces ; that regiments and divisions were 
 left almost without officers ; and that the whole army was 
 utterly demoralized. These reports were confirmed by the 
 heaps of dead that lay all along the line. Seeing and 
 hearing this, Cox felt that there was an opportunity such 
 as seldom occurs in war, to end the campaign with a 
 single blow, and he implored Gen. Schofield to remain, 
 saying in the ardor of his confidence that he "would 
 answer with his head " for the result of the next day. The 
 answer of Schofield was all that could gratify the pride of a 
 soldier. He said : " Tell Gen. Cox he has won a glorious 
 victory, and I have no doubt we could do as he suggests in 
 
 sung the piece about half through, when I stepped to the door, and a 
 shell exploded within fifty yards. I immediately returned and said, 
 ' Colonel, if I am any judge, it is just about that time now ! ' He 
 immediately sprang to his feet, and ran in the direction of his regi- 
 ment, but before he reached it, or by that time, he was shot through 
 the lungs, the bullet passing quite through him. He was taken back 
 to the rear, and on to Nashville. Eighteen days after I received a 
 message from him through an officer, stating the fact of his being 
 shot, and that the piece of music the young ladies were executing 
 was stiU ringing in his ears, and had been every moment that his 
 eyes were open since he left my parlor the evening of the battle. In 
 April, four months later, after the war was over, he had sufficiently 
 recovered to travel, when he came to Franklin, as he stated, expressly 
 to get the young ladies to finish the piece of music and relieve his 
 ears. His wife and more than a dozen officers accompanied him. He 
 fovmd the ladies, and they sang and played the piece through for him 
 in presence of all the officers ; and they wept like children." 
 
250 HOOD S COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 the morning. But my orders from Gen. Thomas are impera- 
 tive, and we must move back to Nashville as soon as possi- 
 ble." So the order was reluctantly issued, and at midnight 
 the troops were ready to move. But at this moment a 
 fire broke out in the town — a building had perhaps been 
 set on fire for the purpose — which cast a light over the 
 place so as to exiDOse every movement to the enemy. This 
 caused a delay, but at length the fires sank down in their 
 ashes, and the wearied soldiers once more strung their 
 knapsacks on their backs. The trains had been akeady 
 got across the river, and the broken columns resumed 
 their march. 
 
 Ignorant of all this, Hood, who was brooding gloomily 
 over the events of the day had called a council of war at 
 midnight, at which the commanders of the three corps, 
 Cheatham, Stewart, and Lee, reported their several com- 
 mands as half destroyed. As he listened to tale after tale 
 of disaster, his temper, soured before, became almost 
 savage. Still he bore up with an unconquered mind ; 
 and, even while one-fourth of his army were stretched in 
 their blood upon the ground, he declared that he would 
 renew the contest the next morning. One thing he had to 
 give him confidence. His heavy artillery, of which he had 
 felt the want the day before, was now coming up, and he 
 said he " would open the battle with a hundi'ed guns 1 " 
 Indeed he could not wait for the break of day, but at three 
 o'clock startled the town with a tremendous roar. Said 
 Col. McEwen, " I thought it would take my head off." But 
 to his amazement there was no reply, for the Federal army 
 was across the river, and on its way to Nashville, and only 
 heard in the distance these last thunders of mipotent rage 
 and fury. The sound did not hasten their steps an instant, 
 nor evoke a taunt or a cheer. Still they plodded on 
 silent as the stars that were shining above them. In that 
 
THE NIGHT MARCH TO NASHVILLE. 251 
 
 long procession there was none of the pomp and circum- 
 stance of war, nothing of that which might be expected 
 in an army a few hours after a great victory. But I 
 believe it is Wellington that has said, " Next to a great 
 defeat, the saddest thing in the world is a great vic- 
 tory." As there was no shout of triumph for the living, 
 there was no mourning for the dead. " Not a drum 
 was heard nor a funeral note." The soldiers were weary 
 and worn : many of them had been wounded ; some had 
 their heads bound up ; others carried their arms in slings ; 
 some, leaning on their comrades, dragged themselves slowly 
 along. Sadder than all, as they took their places in the 
 ranks, they missed many from their side : comrades that 
 but a few hours ago were " full of lusty life," were now 
 lying in their new made graves, or unburied on the plain. 
 An army thus stricken, was in no mood for exultation. 
 What a contrast was this night march to that of the night 
 before ! Only twenty-four hours had passed, but in that 
 time they had lived years I Thus blood-stained with the 
 wounds of battle, yet victorious, in the gray of morning 
 they found rest in the camps round the city of Nashville. 
 
 This withdrawal had been whoUy voluntary, yet Hood 
 had the weakness to telegraph to Eichmond, "We attacked 
 the enemy at Frankhn, and drove him from his outer line 
 of temporary works into his interior line, which he aban- 
 doned during the night, and rapidly retreated to Nash- 
 ville ! " as if ho had gained a victor3^ But this pretence 
 deceived no one, for it was impossible to hide from his 
 own soldiers the awful carnage of that day. As soon as 
 daylight made it visible, they had before their eyes the 
 horrors of the battlefield, on which lay six thousand dead 
 and wounded I Though used to war, they had never seen 
 such a sight before. There were places where the dead 
 lay one upon another, five deep ; while for some distance 
 
252 SCENES AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 the ground was covered. A Confederate officer tells me 
 that the next morning he mounted his horse to ride to the 
 front, but as he drew near the horse started back, affright- 
 ed at the smell of blood, and at the human figures that 
 stared at him from the ground, with every look of agony 
 in their faces ; and he dismounted and endeavored to pick 
 his way on foot, but so thick were the slain that he said, 
 " I do not think it extravagant to say that for two hun- 
 dred yards from the line of the intrenchments, I could 
 have walked on the dead, stepping from one body to 
 another i " 
 
 As it was along this part of the line that the first rush 
 of the Confederates came, here was the first shock of bat- 
 tle, and here many of the leaders fell. Clebui'ne, as might 
 have been expected, was in the front. He was the bravest 
 of the brave, and he had been stung to the quick by the 
 angry reproof of Hood for his failure to attack at Spring 
 Hill ; and now, with his Irish blood hot within him, he 
 mounted his iron-gray stallion, and putting himself at the 
 head of his men rode straight at the foe, to fall in the 
 sighfc of both armies, dying as a soldier might wish to 
 die, "amid the battle's splendor." Knowing that his chiv- 
 alrous daring had made him the idol of the Southern army, 
 I could appreciate the feeling of my companions when Mr. 
 Carter stopped us and said, " This is the very spot where 
 Cleburne fell ! " But a few rods distant Gen. John Adams 
 was in the very act of springing his horse over the works, 
 when both fell together, he being throvm over into the 
 ranks on the other side, while his horse was left liter- 
 ally bestriding the works. " Old Charley " was the very 
 type of a war-horse, and was almost as well known in the 
 army as his master ; and the figure of the powerful crea- 
 ture was very striking in death, as he lay at full length, his 
 hind legs reaching to the bottom of the outer ditch, while 
 
.GROUPS OF THE DEAD. 253 
 
 the long neck was stretched on the slope, the head on the 
 very top of the pai'apet, as if still breathing defiance at 
 the foe : 
 
 "There lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 
 But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride ; 
 And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
 And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf." 
 
 That war-horse would make a figure for a sculptor, almost 
 as striking as the lion of Thorwaldsen ; and the State of 
 Tennessee ought to have it wrought in marble or cast in 
 bronze, as a type of the courage of her sons on the field of 
 battle. 
 
 Hardly less striking than this were the groups scattered 
 far and wide over the field : for the dead lay in heaps, 
 torn to pieces by shot and shell, till they had almost lost 
 the semblance of humanity ; with the brave creatures that 
 had carried them into the battle stretched beside them : 
 "Eider and horse, friend and foe, in one red burial blent." 
 
 In the presence of such awful misery, it seems an un- 
 worthy intrusion of human pride to dispute the honors 
 of the day. It is not an hour to boast when thousands of 
 our feUow-beings are lying on the ground in the agonies 
 of death. The object for which the battle was fought — to 
 destroy the Union army — had utterly failed, and so far it 
 was a Union victory. But if only the glory be considered, 
 there is glory enough for all : for never was there a more 
 splendid display of coirrage and devotion, than in the 
 Confederates who that day sacrificed their lives in vain. 
 
 The army that fought the battle of Franklin, was not 
 yet quite at the end of its campaign. The last shot had 
 not been fired. Only two weeks later — on the fifteenth of 
 December — it was to have a part in one more battle and 
 one more victory : when the army of Thomas, doubled in 
 strength by that of Schofield, poured foi*th from Nashville, 
 
254 A LATE CENTENNIAL. 
 
 and swept all the encircling hills, by which the army of 
 Hood was so completely scattered and destroyed that it 
 vii-tually ceased to exi&t, as a force to be taken into account 
 in any future movement. This was the final blow which 
 ended the war in the West, so that General Schofield, with 
 his command, was transferred to the East, and sent by sea 
 to join Sherman in North Carolina ; while Grant held 
 fast to Lee. AU these movements were linked together, 
 so that a check in one would have been a disaster to aU. 
 If Schofield had not "held the fort" at Frankhn, Thomas 
 might not have been able to hold it at Nashville, and Hood 
 would have swept through Kentucky to the Ohio ; so that 
 all that was being done in Virginia and in the Carolinas, 
 might have been neutrahzed by a great defeat in Tennes- 
 see. All portions of the country were comprised in that 
 splendid strategy, which, manoeuvring over half the Union 
 in a vast circle winding round and round, and contracting 
 towards a common centre, finally closed in and crushed 
 the Rebelhon within its mighty folds. 
 
 Those were heroic days that should never be forgotten. 
 Since then twenty-five years have passed, and a new 
 generation has come upon the stage that may forget the 
 terrible cost at which the Union was restored, except as it 
 is recalled by some memorable anniversary. But a few 
 months since we looked out of our windows in New York 
 upon the greatest pageant that ever swept through its 
 streets, the celebration of the completion of a hundred 
 years from the foundation of the Government. In that 
 brilliant array the President of the United States was 
 accomj^anied by all the high officers of State, and repre- 
 sentatives of the army and navy. The enthusiasm for 
 these heads of the nation was divided with that for the 
 Southern Governors, some of Avhom — like Buckner of Ken- 
 tucky and Gordon of Georgia — had been Generals in the 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD GROWING GREEN. 255 
 
 Confederate army, and now appeared leading the troopo 
 of tbeir respective States — not as captives in a triumphal 
 procession, but as equal partners in One Country : rejoic- 
 ing as fully as the North in the immeasurable blessings 
 of a restored Union. 
 
 At the head of this great procession rode General 
 Schofield, the same who had fought the battle which I 
 have attempted to describe, and who, after a long life of 
 service, has succeeded Grant and Sherman and Sheridan 
 as head of the army of the United States. How could one 
 who had but lately come from the field of Franklin, help 
 thinking with a shudder of what might haw been if he had 
 not planned so wisely and stood so fii-mly, while so many 
 brave men died for their coimtry, on that decisive day a 
 quarter of a century ago 1 
 
 In visiting a battlefield after the lapse of a few years, 
 there is at least this satisfaction, that nature soon obliter- 
 ates aU traces of the passion and the violence of men. 
 The earth drinks up their blood, and the grass grows 
 green again over their graves. As we walked along the 
 lino of the intrenchments, I found every trace of them had 
 been destroyed, as the ground has been many times 
 ploughed over. But every Spring, as it is turned up 
 anew, fresh relics are brought to light. My fi'iends picked 
 up a handful of bullets, which they turned over to me, to 
 which I answered that I thought I would take them to 
 General Schofield with the compliments of his Confederate 
 friends, who, as they had not had the opportunity of pre- 
 senting them when he visited the town on a certain memo- 
 rable occasion, would make amends for this neglect by 
 presenting them now. The gallant Major charged me 
 especially to say how glad they were that they had not 
 been presented on the appointed day ! This duty I per- 
 formed on my arrival in Washington, The General re- 
 
256 HEARTS YEARN TO BE KNIT AGAIN. 
 
 ceived them with a smile, and as he took them in his hand, 
 pointed out the peculiar shape of each ball, which showed 
 whether it had been fired by friend or foe, and kept speci- 
 mens of each, as interesting and harmless souvenii's of a 
 great event, not only in his own life, but in American 
 history. 
 
 General Schofield said that after the war he had a great 
 desire to see General Hood, and renew the acquaintance 
 which they had in the old days, when they were four years 
 side by side at West Point. Hood had settled down in 
 New Orleans. Schofield wrote to him several times to 
 come on to the meeting of his old classmates. But he 
 never came. In his last letter he said : " To tell the truth, 
 I have ten children to provide for, which takes all my time 
 and care." The reason did honor to the soldier's heart. 
 These were soon to be left without father or mother : for 
 both died within a few days of each other, and the eldest 
 daughter a few hours after her father. A blow so sudden 
 and so teiiible enlisted great sympathy at the South, where 
 every heart and every home was open to those who were 
 thus doubly orphaned. Nor was it in the South only, but 
 in the North also, where more than one were taken into 
 the closest relations, as if they were of the same blood. 
 So is it that an unnatural alienation is sometimes followed 
 by a reaction of feeling, which in its return causes an over- 
 flow of affection and kindness. Esj^eciaUy when the grave 
 has closed over the heroic dead, old strifes give place to 
 kindly memories, and flowers blossom out of the dust. 
 Severed hearts yearn to be knit again, and hands long 
 withdrawn are stretched out once more ; and, though it 
 may be only in the next generation, new affections spring 
 up, and sweet household ties come in, to bind all together. 
 
CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 VISIT TO THE HOME OF ANDREW JACKSON. 
 
 Next to the scene of the battle of Franklin, the one 
 place in the neighborhood of Nashville which I desired to 
 see, was the Hermitage, the home of Andrew Jackson. 
 "WTien I was a boy, I can just remember his election as the 
 President of the United States. During the two terms of 
 his administration, and for years after, he was the great- 
 est political power in the country: indeed it is doubtful if 
 any man from the time of Washington to the opening of 
 the Civil War, filled a larger space in the public eye. He 
 is a very picturesque figvu'e in American history. He was 
 not of the ordinary run of poHticians — smooth-tongued 
 and "all things to all men"; but a man original and 
 unique, a product of nature rather than of education. A 
 child of poverty, he came up in the backwoods, like some 
 prodigious growth of the forest. Without the polish of 
 society, he had a natural courage and force of will that 
 put him at the head of the rough communities of the 
 border, from which the force of circumstances pushed him 
 on till he reached the highest position in national affairs. 
 A man who has acted such a part in his generation, is a 
 subject of interest to the student of history, and hence the 
 
25S SHUT UP WITH CONFEDERATES. 
 
 desire which I felt to see the place where he lived and 
 died. 
 
 The visit was made easy for me by the coiu-tesy of Ex- 
 Governor Marks, who offered to be my guide, and to 
 whose company was added the attraction of that of his 
 wife, and of ]Mr. Jno. W. Childress, a nephew of ]\Ii's. 
 Polk. Thus I was shut up in a carriage with three Con- 
 federates, and I do j^rotest that I might have been in a 
 worse place. Indeed I could not have been with more 
 delightfid companions. The very fact that their experi- 
 ence had been so entirely different from mine, put it in 
 their power to tell me much which I could not know 
 before, but was eager to hear. As a full-blooded North- 
 erner, I like to tell of all the things done by the brave men, 
 and brave women too, of the North. One of my heroes is 
 General Bartlett of Massachusetts, that young student 
 fresh from Harvard, so fair and dehcate that it seemed 
 as if he could hardly march in the ranks, but who proved 
 a soldier "without fear and without reproach"; who at 
 the siege of Port Hudson, being unable to walk, insisted 
 on mounting a horse that he might take part in the battle, 
 which exposed him the more to the fire of the enemy, who 
 were so struck with his cota'age, that it is said the officers 
 gave orders not to aim at him, which however did not 
 save him, as he was shot in two places, and had in spite of 
 his protests to be carried to the rear. He could not learn 
 prudence by repeated wounds, but continued to exj)ose 
 himself till he was " shot all to pieces," when, like the 
 brave soldier he was, he wrote to one who had pledged 
 him her love, releasing her from her engagement to such a 
 wreck as he felt himself to be, to which she replied, like 
 the brave woman she was, that " she would marry him as 
 long as there was body enough to contain his heroic 
 soul " ! As I told this story, I observed a flush in the lady 
 
A TALE OF THE WAR. 259 
 
 at my side, which indicated that she had a similar story to 
 tell ; and to my inquiring look she answered that just be- 
 fore the war she had been engaged to one who was called 
 to the field, whom she, with anxious and trembling heart, 
 watched as he marched away to an uncertain fate. Then 
 came the gi'eat battle of Murfi'eesboro. She heard that he 
 was wounded : and for a few days was in an agony of 
 suspense, an agony that grew more intense as night came 
 on, and she sat alone in the moonlight, and imagined him 
 lying on the cold ground ! At length the storm of battle 
 swept farther away, and the wounded were in reach of 
 warm hearts and gentle hands, and she was able to take 
 her place by the couch of the brave soldier whose name 
 she was to bear, and soon after to enter on the life of per- 
 fect happiness that has continued to this day. 
 
 Mr. Childress, though much younger, was not too 
 young to take part in the war at its close, and was in the 
 battle of Franklin which I have described ; and had the 
 most vivid memory of that night march, when Schofield's 
 army passed in full view of the camp fires of the enemy : 
 and of the teriible scenes of the following day. 
 
 While thus engaged in conversation, we had been rid- 
 ing over a succession of hills, till we were ten miles from 
 the city. The country around Nashville is not pictur- 
 esque ; there are no mountains on the horizon ; but the 
 land rises and falls gently, turning ujp a thousand slopes 
 to the sun and rain, which bring forth abundantly so that 
 the whole region is a garden of fertility. 
 
 At the top of one of these slojDes, a gateway opens into 
 a long avenue of trees, at the end of which stands a large 
 house, built in the old Southern style, with a row of pillars 
 in front, the chief architectural decoration of a planter's 
 house in the old slavery days, as it stood in the centre of 
 a great plantation — a sort of Feudal Castle arounu which 
 
260 THE HERMITAGE. 
 
 gathered the mixed population that owed allegiance to the 
 Lord of the Manor. This was the Hermitage, the home of 
 Andrew Jackson. 
 
 On this spot he settled in the early part of the century, 
 though not in the great house which we now see. The 
 pioneers in the valley of the Cumberland, as in other parts 
 of the West, lived in log cabins. Jackson's first home was 
 not much better. It stood in the rear of tlie j)resent Her- 
 mitage : you may still see the old chimney, up which huge 
 fires flamed and roared long ago, round which sat the 
 mighty hunters of that day (for it was not long after the 
 time of Daniel Boone, whose exploits were the tradition of 
 the border), and talked by the firelight of their contests 
 with wild beasts and savage men. In this humble dwell- 
 ing Jackson lived long after he became a famous man in 
 the State of Tennessee ; it was from under that roof that 
 he went forth to fight his battles, and (as the servant told 
 us) " done all his big things" ! But in the course of years, 
 as his military achievements gave him wide distinction, the 
 cabin had to give place to something more stately, that 
 was fit to be the abode of so much greatness. It was at 
 the steps of this mansion we now drew up. 
 
 Ringing at the door, a figvire appeared that was in 
 keeping with the general aspect of the place, venerable 
 indeed, but a good deal worn by the ravages of time. 
 This was an old servant, over eighty years of age, who had 
 been born on the place, and lived here all his life. He was 
 now gray and grizzled, and his thin garments looked as if 
 they had fluttered in the wind for manj'^ a year, making 
 him altogether fit to be the keeper of an old baronial haU, 
 that had long since seen its best days, and was now going 
 to decay. Indeed he seemed like the very ghost of the 
 olden time, but a gentle and kindly ghost, who was himself 
 a part of the place, through which he moved like a shadow, 
 
HOUSEHOLD RELICS 261 
 
 and who (instead of rattling off a string of commonplaces, 
 like a professional guide,) talked simply and naturally of 
 his old master, the beloved dead. He now led the way 
 into the interior of the house, which is divided by a broad 
 hall, after the old fashion. On the left, as you enter, is the 
 parlor, where the faded hangings and worn-out chairs and 
 sofas are the fit mementoes of departed glory. Here is a 
 collection of souvenirs of the old soldier : the chair in 
 which he sat, and the couch on which he reclined ; the 
 sword that he wore in battle, and the pipe that he smoked 
 in peace. 
 
 Some of the relics tell of the rough times in which he 
 lived in the early days of Tennessee. Here is a bullet 
 that he carried for years in his body, where it was planted, 
 not by a foe on the field of battle, but in a bar-room fight 
 in Nashville, in which he was shot by a man who was one 
 day to fight on his side as fiercely as he now fought against 
 him — Thomas H. Benton of Missouri, who, when Jackson 
 was President, was his chief supporter and defender in the 
 Senate of the United States. Some may think it a wrong 
 to Jackson's memory to recall these personal encounters. 
 On the contrary, I think it but just to paint him exactly as 
 he was, and not to soften his features as if he were a saint. 
 Let us tell the truth. He lived in rough times, in which 
 he was a rough fighter. "We need not hide this feature of 
 the man, since we can go on to tell how, in his later career, 
 his undauntcil courage was devoted to the service of his 
 country. 
 
 As the border was in those days, as in ours, the resort 
 of many desperate characters, the quality most prized and 
 most honored was personal courage. A coward could not 
 live in such a community. A man must be ready to 
 defend himself at all times and in all places. Nor was 
 this courage needed only in personal combats, but in 
 
262 COURAGE OF JACKSON. 
 
 enforcing the law. Jackson had picked up a smattering 
 of the law before he left his native State of North Carolina. 
 His mother, a good Scotch-Irish woman, had intended him 
 for the pulpit, and he had actually begun his studies for 
 that holy calling (no doubt he would have been a rousing 
 preacher, setting forth the terrors of the law with tremen- 
 dous power!) when circumstances turned him aside to 
 another vocation. As he crossed the mountains to what 
 was afterwards to be the State of Tennessee, it was with 
 an appointment as a " solicitor," in the duties of which he 
 had often to deal with the invaders of public lands — a task 
 which called for a good deal of courage. Not less was this 
 required when he became a Judge. On one occasion he 
 had ordered the sheriff to arrest a drunken brute who was 
 noted for his strength and his ferocity. The sheriff 
 attempted to execute the order, but retui-ned, saying that 
 the man was armed, and threatened to kill any one who 
 should approach him. Jackson told him to go back and 
 take the man dead or alive ; and if he could not do it 
 alone, to summon anybody whom he wished to help him, 
 " even if it were the Judge on the bench," to which the 
 officer quickly replied, " I summon youi- Honor " I Instant- 
 ly he rose from his seat, and taking a loaded pistol in his 
 hand, advanced upon the desperado, who, seeing that 
 further resistance was vain, at once surrendered. 
 
 A man of such courage naturally took the lead in times 
 of public danger. The settlements had to be in constant 
 preparation against an attack of Indians. Jackson had 
 had a training in the school of war, for he remembered 
 the Revolution, when, a mere boy, he was taken prisoner, 
 and struck by a British officer with a sword, inflicting a 
 scar which he carried through life, while his brother 
 received a wound from which he died (he had but one 
 other brother who had ah-eady died in the war) ; and his 
 
OLD HICKOKY. ' 263 
 
 motlier too sank under the fatigues of marcliing after the 
 pitiless soldiers, and niu'sing the wounded and the dying ; 
 so that, except himself, the family was literally exterminat- 
 ed, and he was left alone in the world. These were bitter 
 memories, which inspii'ed in the young orj)han a hatred of 
 oppression and cruelty ; and to the latest hour of his life, 
 nothing roused him to fury more than an act of injustice 
 to helpless childhood or womanhood. 
 
 This is not the place to enter into the military career 
 of General Jackson. That is a matter of history. Whether 
 he was a great soldier, is a question for the military critics. 
 Certainly he had the quickness in conception and prompt- 
 ness in action which are the first requisites of a leader. 
 He had also a comradeship with his soldiers that gave him 
 great power over them. He shared their hardships and 
 privations, tramping by their side in the long marches 
 through forest and swamp, in which he proved so incapa- 
 ble of fatigue, that the soldiers, who delight to give nick- 
 names to their favorite commanders, dubbed him " Old 
 Hickory." "When the day was over, he was ready to lie 
 down under the open sky, with no bed but the leaves of 
 the forest. Often provisions ran low, and the whole camp 
 was put on short rations. Not unfrequently many a brave 
 man had not a biscuit in his knapsack. But " Old Hickory " 
 made as light of starvation as " Old Eliott " did at the 
 siege of Gibraltar. In his Indian campaign his men were 
 reduced to the lowest point, but he said " if they could 
 only get an ear of corn apiece," they would carry it through 
 to the end. On one occasion a soldier came to him, say- 
 ing that he was literally starving, perhaps prompted to 
 make his wants known as he saw the General sitting at 
 the foot of a tree, eating something with apparent relish. 
 Instead of reproving him, Jackson replied that he was 
 always ready to share what he had with his men, and 
 
264 THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew out a handful of 
 acorns, saying that that was all he had to eat ! When a 
 commander was thus ready to su£fer the extreme of priva- 
 tion, and even to give his last acorn to a hungry soldier, 
 his men quickly learned the lesson taught by such an ex- 
 ample. And when at last he was able to face the enemy, 
 and there was nothing to do but the fighting, that was 
 mere play ; indeed he seemed really to enjoy it (per- 
 haps this was the Irish blood that was in him) ; his ardor 
 rose with danger, he pressed forward to the front, and 
 seemed to be everywhere present, inspiring his soldiers 
 with his own unconquerable spirit. 
 
 If it be the best proof of a great general that he wins 
 victories, certainly Jackson proved his right to that dis- 
 tinction. In his campaign against the Indians in Florida, 
 he broke their power as effectually as he afterwards 
 stopped the EngHsh invasion at New Orleans. In the lat- 
 ter case he was pitted, not against savages, but against an 
 army of fourteen thousand men, the veterans of the Penin- 
 sular War, with whom Wellington had marched from vic- 
 tory to victory. Against these Jackson had less than half 
 the number, the greater part of whom were mere militia. 
 True, they were the rifle-men of Kentucky and Tennessee, 
 but they could hardly be expected to stand against a disci- 
 pHned army, unless they had been insjoired by a resolute 
 commander. It was then he showed an energy almost 
 superhuman. It is said that for four days and nights he 
 did not close his eyes. To be sure, he carried things with 
 a high hand ; he declared martial law, he seized cotton 
 bales wherever he could find them to make breastworks, 
 and no doubt in many cases went beyond the limit of his 
 authority, but his plea was the necessity of the case. 
 Everything was to be sacrificed to self-preservation. He 
 violated the law, but he saved the city! 
 
HOxME LIFE. 265 
 
 But this is not the place to fight his battles over again. 
 Under the roof of the Hermitage, it is more in keeping 
 with the domestic surroundings, to speak of the home-life 
 of its former occupants. No life could be more in con- 
 trast with the rugged scenes of war. "When the army dis- 
 banded, and its commander retired to his home, it was to 
 enjoy tranquillity and peace. He had had enough of pub- 
 lic life, civil and military ; and now he had but two 
 thoughts — his family and his farm. The latter had been a 
 good deal neglected during his absence, and needed the 
 care of its master. He was not rich ; he could not be 
 reckoned among the wealthy planters of the South. Nor 
 was he a large slaveholder. Not that he had any scruples 
 about holding slaves, but as he had no need of them, if 
 they came into his hands, our old guide said that "he put 
 'em aU out to traders and let 'em go." This reduced the 
 number of his cares, and made his life more simple and 
 easy. It was then he built his new house, and planted the 
 long avenue of trees before the door ; as his servant told 
 us, his master " set 'em all out his-self." 
 
 If such was the growing beauty around the Hermitage, 
 still greater was the beauty of the life within. Strange as 
 it may seem in one of his violent temper, Jackson was a 
 very affectionate husband. If he hated bitterly, he loved 
 warmly, and the wife whom he had married in his early 
 manhood, was to her last hour the object of his most 
 ardent devotion. With such elements of happiness with- 
 out and within, the life of the country gentleman flowed 
 on as smoothly as the river that flowed by the Hermitage. 
 In this happy retirement he remained till he was called 
 to enter once more into the service of his country. 
 
 All readers of political history are famihar with the 
 circumstances which led to his nomination for the Presi- 
 dency ; to his defeat in 1825, when, there being no elec- 
 
266 THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE. 
 
 tion by the people, Jolin Quincy Adams was cliosen by the 
 House of Representatives ; and to the election of Jackson 
 four years later. Then he had reached the height of his 
 ambition ; and yet at that very moment all the joy of it 
 was taken away by the greatest blow that could befall him, 
 in the death of his wife — a blow that dashed his triumph 
 to the ground, and cast a shadow over his whole life. As 
 our guide said, "He was never the same man again." 
 It was just as he was about to leave the Hermitage for 
 "Washington — the carriages were already packed — that she 
 was suddenly taken ill and died in three days. All this 
 came back again as her old sei-vant conducted us to the 
 corner of the garden where she is buried. He remem- 
 bered the day when his master stood beside the open 
 grave, into which was let down the form of her whom he 
 had loved so long and well. The old man said, "It cut 
 him to the heart. You see," he added with his simple 
 negro pathos, "it comes mighty hard for a man to lose his 
 wife! " When all was over, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," 
 the old soldier, now alone in the world, walked to the car- 
 riage, which bore him away from the scene of so much 
 happiness and so much sorrow. The journey to the Capi- 
 tal was a melancholy one. In aU the honors that awaited 
 him, there was a feeling of inexpressible sadness that she 
 who had been his companion in earlier days, who had 
 shared his humbler fortunes, was not with him to share 
 his honors now ; and in all the years of power, whenever 
 he looked across the Potomac to where the sun was going 
 down in the west, his heart was far away by that lonely 
 grave on the banks of the Cumberland. 
 
 For eight years the Hermitage was empty, as its Master 
 was transferred to other scenes. "When Jackson came to 
 Washing-ton, there was great curiosity to see him, as he 
 had been pictured in very different forms by friends and 
 
A PRESIDENT NOT MERELY IN NAME. 267 
 
 foes. Some wlio looked for a rough siDecimen of the bor- 
 der, a sort of untamed barbarian, were sui'prised to find 
 " a gentleman of the old school," with a fine soldierly pres- 
 ence, a natural dignity, and coiuily manners. It was soon 
 discovered that he was to be President not merely in 
 name ; that he was not to be simply an ornamental person- 
 age, a mere figure-head of the ship of State, but an em- 
 bodiment of 230wer, that would be felt in every department 
 of the Government. And how did he use this vast power? 
 Wisely and well ? or capriciously and to the injmy of his 
 country ? There can be no doubt that the imperious tem- 
 per which fitted him for military command, to some extent 
 unfitted him for civil administration. Military power is 
 not the best preparation for a more restricted authority. 
 It has often been said of General Grant that he thought 
 he could conduct a government as he commanded an 
 army, simj)ly by issuing his orders to his lieutenants. The 
 same could have been said with more truth of Jackson, as 
 he was of a temper more arbitrary. He was not a man to 
 weigh public questions in the balance with slow and cau- 
 tious judgment. He coiild not brook opposition. He had 
 strong likes and dislikes : he loved his friends and hated 
 his enemies ; and viewing pubhc questions in their per- 
 sonal relations, his administration ran into a personal gov- 
 ernment. That the powers and the emoluments of office 
 should be enjoyed by those who were hostile to the head 
 of the Government, seemed to him an injustice to himself 
 and to his loyal supporters, though the saying which has 
 been imjouted to him, " To the victors belong the siDoils," 
 was in fact the utterance (such I believe is the truth of his- 
 tory) of Governor Marcy of New York, whom its people at 
 least regard as being entitled as much as any man of his 
 day, to the name of a statesman and a jpa-triot. He may 
 have spoken it in jest, but it was a most unfortunate phrase, 
 
268 WAR WITH THE UNITED STATES BANK. 
 
 and declares a vicious principle. "While condemning it in 
 the strongest terms, it is but simple justice to Jackson to 
 say, that his faults gi'ew to some extent out of his vii'tues ; 
 that they were the faults of a generous natiire. If he had 
 been a man with no hot blood in his veins, but cold and 
 passionless, he might have been saved fi'om mistakes into 
 which he was led by his ardent temj)erament. If he had 
 not loved his friends so well, he might have served his 
 country better. But his friendships, like his hatreds, 
 wai'ped his judgment. So in his political views, whichever 
 side he took, he took strongly ; he was sure that he was 
 right ; and his fierce determination to do right often led 
 him to do wrong. 
 
 In the glass case which contains the personal relics, is a 
 pen which has a history, that makes it as interesting as a 
 pen that has been used in the signature of a treaty of 
 peace or a declaration of war. It is the pen with which 
 he signed his vek> of the bill that had passed Congress to 
 renew the charter of the United States Bank ! It is a plain 
 quill pen, for, as the old darky said, " The Gineral alius 
 wrote with a quill ; he didn't use none o' them fine gold 
 pens, like you 'uns." But though it was only a gray goose 
 quill, it was enough to write a decision which shook the 
 country. His enemies claimed that it caused a financial 
 convulsion, which spread ruin and disaster far and wide. 
 Certain it is, that it precipitated a fierce conflict ; and when 
 he followed it up by removing the deposits from the 
 United States Bank, the bitterness of feeling was such as 
 has rarely been known in the history of the country. 
 The Senate recorded its disapproval in a Resolution 
 ofifered by Mr. Clay, that "the President had assumed 
 upon himself authority and power not conferred by the 
 Constitution and laws, but in derogation of both " — a cen- 
 sure which stood upon its record till, after a long agita- 
 
HE PUTS DOWN NULLIFICATION. 269 
 
 tion, it was formally " expunged ! " This was effected 
 chiefly by the efforts of Col. Benton, who atoned for the 
 bullet he had once sent into the body of General Jackson 
 by this determined and at last successful effort to remove 
 a blot upon his name ! 
 
 It was at such times as this that the old "Whig Party 
 vented its rage in wrathful imprecations upon the head of 
 one whose purpose they could not change. But even they 
 had to confess that there were times when the country was 
 all the safer because of " Old Hickory's " fiery temper and 
 tremendous will. It was in the year 1832 that nullification 
 raised its head in South Cai'olina — a demonstration that, if 
 unchecked, might have ended in civil war. For such a 
 crisis Jackson was the man of all men, for he permitted no 
 trifling. He did not meet it with soft phrases, but with a 
 decision and energy that soon put an end to this incipient 
 rebellion. His proclamation was one of the most masterly 
 State papers ever issued in the history of the Government. 
 It dealt with the argument of nullification in a calm, judi- 
 cial manner, ending with this conclusion : " I consider the 
 power to annul a law of the United States, assumed by one 
 State, incompatible with the existence of the Union, con- 
 tradicted expressly by the letter of the Constitution, un- 
 authorized by its spirit, inconsistent with every principle 
 on which it was founded, and destructive of the great 
 objects for which it was formed." These were solemn 
 words, and they were made more impressive by a know- 
 ledge of the personality which stood behind them, ready to 
 enforce them with all the power of the Government ; for 
 Jackson had declared his purpose, if the movement of 
 nullification were persisted in, to treat its leaders as 
 "traitors," whom he "would hang as high as Haman"! 
 This mild suggestion set the nullifiers a-thinking, and 
 they soon concluded that it would be more prudent to 
 
270 KETURNINa TO HIS HOME. 
 
 wait for another time, when a weaker man should sit in 
 the Presidential chair. That time was yet to come when 
 the executive power was in the hands of one of infirm 
 purpose, who saw the country drift to ruin, and felt him- 
 self impotent to stay its course. In the last days of 
 Buchanan, when the Government was falling to pieces, 
 because there was a weak old man in the White House, 
 there were millions of voices that cried in despair, "Oh 
 for one hour of Andrew Jackson ! " The obligation of 
 the country to him for his prompt action in a like crisis, 
 cannot be measui'ed. True, it did not prevent the reap- 
 pearance of Secession after he was in his grave, but it 
 staved it off for a whole generation, till the country was 
 strong enough to deal with it. 
 
 When after these stormy years he came back to his 
 quiet home, he was still interested in public affairs, and 
 the Hermitage was a shrine to which politicians came from 
 all parts of the country. But for him the work of life was 
 over. He lived chiefly in memories of the past. He used 
 to walk slowly through the long avenue of trees, his ser- 
 vant following with a chair for him when he chose to sit 
 under the refreshing shade, where he could talk with the 
 fi'iends who came to see him, or muse in silence on the 
 events of former years. It was then his mind took a turn 
 of meditation on the great hereafter. Of Scotch-Iiish 
 descent, he had never forgotten the faith of his childhood. 
 In all the wild passion of former years, he had never lost 
 his reverence for sacred things. While he was President, 
 it was said by one who was a frequent visitor at the 
 White House, that he would not partake of a meal without 
 a grateful recognition of the Giver of all good. If there 
 was no clergyman present, or any one whom he could re- 
 quest to ask a blessing, he would ask it himself. And now, 
 as he sat in the twilight of his years, the old man became 
 
BURIED BESIDE HIS WIFE. 271 
 
 a cLild again, and went back to the prayers and the hymns 
 that he learned at his mother's knee. Near his house he 
 erected a small Presbyterian church, that he might -wor- 
 ship God according to the way of his fathers. In it he 
 was wont to meet every Sabbath day, with a little congre- 
 gation made up of his neighbors and their servants. It 
 was proposed to make him a ruling elder, which he said he 
 should consider the greatest honor of his life, but of which 
 he thought himself unworthy. Looking to the future, it 
 was natiu'al that his anticipations should be connected with 
 her who had been the light of his home and the joy of his 
 existence. As often as he visited her grave, and bent over 
 her dust, he thought, without jDain, that he should soon be 
 laid beside her. An American Commodore, who had been 
 in the Mediterranean, had brought home a sarcophagus, 
 said to have been that of the Emperor Severus, which he 
 desu'ed to present to General Jackson, as worthy to con- 
 tain the remains of one so dear to his countrymen. To 
 this he replied, acknowledging the courtesy, but declining 
 the honor, saying, " I cannot consent that my body shall 
 be laid in a sarcophagus made for an emperor or a king. 
 I have prepared a humble depository beside that wherein 
 lies my beloved wife, where, without any pomp or parade, 
 I have requested, when God calls me to sleep with my 
 fathers, to be laid, to remain until the trumpet sounds to 
 call the dead to judgment, when we, I hope, shall rise 
 together, clothed with that heavenly body promised to all 
 who believe in our gloriou.s Redeemer, who died for us 
 that we might live, and by whose atonement I hope for a 
 blessed immortality." The anticipation was soon to be 
 realized. In a few weeks after this letter was penned, the 
 end came. The old servant took us to the room in which 
 his master breathed his last. It is a very modest room on 
 the ground floor. All his surroundings were plain and 
 
212 A GREAT PERSONALITY. 
 
 simple in life and in death. Within these bare walls, on 
 this very bed, the old -warrior surrendered at last to a foe 
 that was mightier than he. 
 
 With this description of our visit to the Hermitage, the 
 home of Andrew Jackson, I leave it to my readers to form 
 their judgment of a character so extraordinary. I have 
 only to say that, whatever it may be, be it one of praise or 
 of blame, of eulogy or condemnation, they will find abun- 
 dant reasons to sustain it, for in him, as in all powerful 
 natures, there was a mixture of good and evil that almost 
 defies analysis and forbids classification. But with every 
 drawback, no one can read the story of this life without 
 confessing that Jackson was a great personality. 
 
 Among the treasures of the Hermitage is a chair that 
 once belonged to the Father of his Country. To say that 
 Jackson "filled" the chair of Washington, would be 
 assuming too much. But with all his faults — and they 
 •v/ere many and marked — no man, not even Washington, 
 loved his country more. Like him, Jackson had fought 
 for it, and was ready to die for it, and in the hour* of dan- 
 ger to that Union which the Fathers of the Eepublic 
 labored so long to establish, no successor of Washington — 
 not even Lincoln — stood more firmly to maintain the 
 country's integrity and honor. 
 
CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 STONEWALL JACKSON. 
 
 A few weeks before I left New York for tlie South, I 
 drove out to Riverside avenue to the grave of General 
 Grant. It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves were 
 falling from the trees ; the woods were almost stripped 
 and bare ; and aU things wore the sombre, funereal look 
 which is the token of the change that comes alike on nature 
 and on man. The spot is one of great natural beauty — a 
 swelling mound, perhaps a hundred feet above the Hud- 
 son ; commanding a view of great extent up and down the 
 river ; across to the Pahsades and beyond to the moun- 
 tains ; and far down the bay to where the sheen of the 
 waters fades into the distant gleam of the ocean. What a 
 place for a warrior to rest after his stormy Hfe ! And yet, 
 though it be so calm and still, it is within the limits of the 
 great city in which he spent his last years ; and thus he is 
 recalled to us if it be only by his grave. As the Laureate 
 of England says of WelHngton, who sleeps in the very heart 
 of London, under the dome of St. Paul's, so may we say of 
 our honored dead : 
 
 " Let the sound of those he wrought for, 
 And the feet of those he fought for, 
 Echo round his bones forevermore," 
 
27i THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA. 
 
 From the grave of our Tjeloved soldier it is a natui'al 
 transition to tliat of his great adversary, Avho sleej^s far 
 away among the hills of the old Commonwealth Avhich he 
 so much loved. The fact that he led the opposing armies, 
 does not abate the interest with which we study his extra- 
 ordinary career. The time has come when we can do 
 justice to those who fought against us, and even claim 
 their valor and self-devotion as a part of our national 
 inheritance of glory. As I have somewhat of the instinct 
 of an Old Mortahty, I confess to a very great interest in 
 visiting their homes and sepidchres. And so, as I retur'> 
 ed fi'om the South, I took my way across the mountairs, 
 that I might spend a day in the retired and most beautifid 
 spot where General Lee sj)ent his last years ; where he 
 died and is buried ; and where his " right arm " (as he 
 called "Stonewall" Jackson) was buried before him. 
 
 I came an entire stranger, knowing no one ; but as I 
 stejjped from the car, a gentleman called me by name, and 
 "took me to his own home." It was Professor J. J. White 
 of the College, who received me with as much kindness as 
 if I had been an old fi'iend. Perhaps it gives color to all 
 my impressions both of the College and the town, that 
 they are associated with such kindly hospitality. 
 
 Lexington is situated in that part of the Old Dominion, 
 which, being between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies, 
 is known as the Great Valley of Virginia. This is at a 
 considerable elevation above the sea — it is, in fact, a 
 genuine table-land, or plateau- — but being walled in by 
 ranges on both sides, it has the aspect of a broad and open 
 valley, lying in the lajD of its guardian mountains. The 
 region is both pictiu'esque and historical. Settled at an 
 early day by a sturdy race from the North of Ireland, sons 
 of the men who fought at the siege of " Derry," it has 
 always had a remarkable population. A place of Buch 
 
WASHINGTON COLLEGE. 215 
 
 " sightliness," and in the centre of such a people, seemed 
 fitted for an Institution of Learning, and here, more than 
 a hundi"ed years ago, was set up on the hill-top one of the 
 best Academies of the times before the Revolution, whose 
 name of " Liberty Hall " showed that even then the spirit 
 of independence was abroad — a name which gave way, 
 after a few years, when the Academy had grown into a 
 College, to that of Washington, to which it had a just title, 
 as it received its first endowment from the Father of his 
 Country, in a property valued at fifty thousand dollars, 
 given to him by the State of Virginia, which he accepted 
 only on condition that he might devote it to this object. 
 And here, half a century later, rose, as a fit accompaniment 
 to the College, a MiUtary Academy, modelled after that at 
 West Point, to furnish defenders to the country. But 
 intensely Southern in its associations and sympathies (or 
 it might be more accvirate to say, intensely Virginian), it 
 followed its State in the movement of Secession, and among 
 the first recruits that went into the Confederate army were 
 students fit'om Washington College, and cadets from the 
 Military Academy. 
 
 Indeed they had hardly need to go to the war, for the 
 war came to them. From the very beginning the Valley 
 of Virginia was a scene of conflict. As it is a rich agricul- 
 tural region, it was the nearest and most convenient source 
 of supplies to the Confederates in the field, and was called 
 " the backbone of the Confederacy," and hence its jjosses- 
 sion became an object of contest for both armies. 
 
 Among the earliest of those who volunteered for ser- 
 vice, was a professor in the " Military Institute," Thomas 
 Jonathan Jackson. A Virginian by bii-th (born in 1824), 
 he was educated at West Point, where he was in no wise 
 conspicuous. He did not rank high in his class. His 
 mind was not a brilliant one, at least in acc|[uiring know- 
 
276 THOMAS JEFFERSON JACKSON. 
 
 ledge , it was not dull, but it was slow ; and whatever he 
 learned came by the hardest. But he kept at it with a 
 dogged persistency, so that each year he stood higher than 
 before, particularly in matheiDalics, a study most necessary 
 in war. Graduating in 1846, at the time of the Mexican 
 War, he was immediately ordered to Mexico, where though 
 but a lieutenant, he showed such courage and capacity, 
 particularly at the storming of Chapultepec, that he was 
 brevetted a Major. After his return to the United States, 
 he became a Professor in the Military Institute at Lexing- 
 ton, a position in which he did fairly well ; but he was not 
 a great teacher, as he had not been a great scholar. In his 
 class-room exercises, he was faithful and exact, and always 
 showed that he had himself mastered the subject ; but he 
 had none of the personal magnetism which inspires young 
 minds with enthusiasm. In short, there was nothing to 
 indicate that this man was to prove himself one of the 
 greatest soldiers of his time. 
 
 In external aj^pearance there could not be a greater 
 contrast than between this plain soldier and General Lee, 
 who was the model of a military commander, graceful in 
 person, and stately in manners, with a natural dignity that, 
 while it did not repel, did not permit any famiharity. 
 Jackson had not a particle of grace. Brave as a lion in 
 battle, he was never at ease in society. One of his old 
 friends here in Lexington, who met him often, teUs me 
 that his manner was so wanting in ease, that when he 
 entered a room, he greeted the company with an awkward 
 military salute, and sat down on the edge of a chair, bolt 
 upright, as if eager to be off, asking a few abrupt ques- 
 tions, and answering "Yes" or "No"; and then, rising as 
 abruptly as he came, with a bob of his head, and a short 
 " Good morning," jerked himself out of the room ! 
 
 But Professor White, who knew him equally well, 
 
A PLEASING PICTURE. 277 
 
 thinks this does not do him justice, and says, " There has 
 been some disposition even among Southern writers to 
 caricature Jackson as a man, in the effort to place Jackson 
 the soldier in bolder relief"; and then he draws such a 
 loving picture, that I cannot refrain from letting my read- 
 ers enjoy it with me : 
 
 "A certain blunt, curt, and reticent habit, which marked the 
 soldier, has been thought to characterize him in social inter- 
 course. Such was not the case. I met him very often in society, 
 and do not hesitate to say that he was modest, genial, courteous, 
 and notably polite to every one. He was not graceful ia figure 
 or in movement, but in sinrit was highly so. He had a peculiarly 
 gentle expression of countenance, and moved easily in a social 
 scene, making it a point to speak, at least for a few minutes, to 
 every lady present, with no appearance of constraint or embar- 
 rassment, and had a smile and pleasant word for every acquaint- 
 ance. His whole manner was so gentle and unobtrusive, his 
 punctilious regard for the feelings of others bo invariable, his 
 unselfishness so striking, that if his reputation in the Mexican 
 war had not been known, I do not think that the rough soldier 
 would have been thought of in connection with him. My friends 
 of both sexes concur with me in these views." 
 
 This is exquisite. Here are two pictures very unlike, 
 and yet not incompatible : for they are the pendants of 
 each other. The same man, who was shy even to bash- 
 fulness in general society and among strangers, might 
 among his intimate friends lay aside all constraint and 
 reserve, and be as simple and natural and delightful as he 
 was in his own home. 
 
 But whatever lack of grace of manner there might be 
 in him, one thing was always conspicuous — his prompt 
 response to any call of duty. For his pastor, the late Dr. 
 White (the father of my friend and host), he had a respect 
 amounting to reverence, looking up to him as a superior, 
 to whom he was to " report," and from whom he was to 
 receive " orders." Once, when this faithful shepherd of 
 
278 HIS RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 
 
 the flock had dwelt on the duty of taking pari in prayer- 
 meetings, Jackson called to ask if the obligation rested 
 vipon him, alleging his own great diffidence ; but being 
 answered in the affirmative, soon made known that he was 
 "ready for duty." But when it came to the point, he was 
 so hesitating and confused as to produce the utmost em- 
 barrassment in all present ; and fi'om that time forth the 
 pastor would gladly have excused him ; but the intrei^id 
 soldier would not be excused : he was determined "to 
 fight it out on that line," and by the grace of perseverance 
 finally acquired a degree of fi*eedom in prayer, that, if not 
 very eloquent, was deeply impressive, as the utterance of a 
 great, manly, Christian heart. 
 
 Crystal streams issue out of the hardest rocks, and so 
 under this rugged exterior there was a vein of tender 
 feehng, half j^oetical and half religious. In writing to 
 his wife he said : " I love to stroll abroad after the labors 
 of the day are over, and indulge feelings of gratitude to 
 God for aU the sources of natural beauty with which He 
 has adorned the earth. Some time since my morning 
 walks were rendered very delightful by the singing of the 
 birds. The morning carolling of the birds, and their 
 notes in the evening, awaken in me devotional feelings of 
 praise and gratitude, though very diff'erent in their nature. 
 In the morning aU animated nature appears to join in 
 expressions of gratitude to God. In the evening, all is 
 hushed into silent slumber, and thus disposes the mind to 
 meditation. How delightful it is to associate every pleas- 
 ure and enjoyment with God the giver ! " 
 
 It may seem a Httle in disaccord with this deeply 
 religious feeling, that Jackson often fell asleep under the 
 most faithful preaching. Perhaps it was because he had 
 such unbounded confidence in his pastor: he "knew that 
 it was aU right." Or the exj)lanation might be the same 
 
' STONE-WALL AT BULL RUN. 279 
 
 as that of another celebrated man, Horace Greeley, who 
 once told me that it was impossible for him to keep awake 
 dui'ing a sermon : and knowing him as well as I did, I 
 could understand the reason. He was always overworked, 
 and though his vitality was prodigious, and would keep 
 him up so long as there was anything to be done, yet the 
 vital force was going out of him at such a rate that it left 
 him exhausted ; and the moment the pressure ceased, there 
 came a reaction ; and " as soon as he began to hear the 
 droning from the pulpit " (these were his words, though 
 he listened to one of the most eloquent preachers in New 
 York, the late Dr. Chapin), he could not resist the drowsi- 
 ness that came over him ; indeed he did not try to resist 
 it, for the feeling was delicious to his tired frame, and he 
 sank into blissful unconsciousness. Jackson, therefore, had 
 good company. Yet out of this "sleepy head," as some 
 might call it, was to come the thunderbolt of war ! 
 
 The first indication that he gave of what was in him, 
 except that in Mexico, was at Bull Kun, where his com- 
 mand, though they had never been in battle before, stood 
 firm as a rock, or in the phrase of the camp, " as a stone 
 wall," from which it was thenceforth known as the Stone- 
 wall Brigade, and its commander as Stonewall Jackson. 
 
 Here begins a tale which it would take long to teU of 
 the military career that commenced at Bull Run and end- 
 ed at ChanceUorsville. It was all comprised in less than 
 two years, but they were years of incessant activity. If I 
 had the intimate personal knowledge of my friend. Major 
 Jed. Hotchkiss of Staunton, Va., who was with him almost 
 daily during these two years, I could tell a story that 
 would be worth the hearing. He was as near to Jackson 
 as any man could be. Not only was he on his staff, but in 
 the very responsible position of topograj)hical engineer, 
 whose duty it was to keep his chief informed of the whole 
 
280 DOWN THE SHENANDOAH. 
 
 £eld of operations, mapping out the country — not only- 
 giving its great featm-es, its mountains and valleys and 
 rivers, but tlie minutest details, to every country road and 
 every gap in the mountains, by which perchance he might 
 execute a flank movement, and by a rapid night march 
 appear in the morning in the rear of the enemy. Thus 
 the engineer sometimes virtually designated the field in 
 which the general was to fight his battles. 
 
 This old companion of the great Confederate leader, 
 gave up a day to accompany me down the Shenandoah 
 Valley, part of the Valley of Virginia. The object of our 
 excursion was to visit the wonderful Grottoes of the Shen- 
 andoah, but in our way we passed over the ground, which 
 was the scene of all those camj^aigns in " The Valley," of 
 which we heard so constantly in the war — events which 
 were now described by one who was an actor in them. 
 Indeed, I hope my readers will appreciate my opportuni- 
 ties as second only to those of an eye-witness, for if the 
 Major rode by the side of Stonewall Jackson, / rode by 
 the side of the Major, and listened to the marvellous story. 
 Ti'ue, between his ride and mine twenty-five years had 
 come and gone, but as the memory was fresh in his mind, 
 and he fought the battles over again, some faint reflection 
 of his own vivid impressions fell upon me, and I felt that 
 to hear him describe Stonewall Jackson, was next to seeing 
 the old hero himself. 
 
 From the outbreak of the war, Jackson had attached 
 supreme importance to keeping possession of the Valley, 
 as a barrier against invasion from the North. He said, 
 " If the Valley is lost, Virginia is lost." But how to hold 
 it against much greater forces, was the problem. With 
 his quick military eye, he saw that it could only be done 
 by what is known in war as an ofi'ensive-defensive cam- 
 paign, in which the weaker side makes the attack, in order 
 
NAPOLEON HIS MASTER IN WAR. 281 
 
 to prevent being closed in upon and crushed by over- 
 whelming numbers. 
 
 " The Valley Campaign " of 1862, which was entirely 
 Jackson's own, the Major looks upon as the most brilliant 
 of the whole war. As we were riding in the carriage, he 
 took out a pad, and di-ew a sketch of the country, show- 
 ing the position of the several armies (for there were two 
 or three operating at once against Jackson), in order to 
 illustrate the latter's moves in this great game of war. 
 Jackson had made a study of the campaigns of Napoleon, 
 whose secret of victory he found to be in his marvellous 
 combinations, and in a rapidity of movement of which there 
 had been no example before. This was carrying into war 
 the simple rule in mechanics, that the momentum of a ball 
 depends on its weight and its velocity ; and sometimes what 
 is wanting in weight can be made up by increased velocity. 
 Reasoning from this principle, Jackson was sure that what 
 the French had done, Americans could do. He believed 
 that an army could be marched twenty-five miles a day, 
 and still retain strength to fight a battle ; indeed he once 
 marched his Stonewall Brigade forty miles ! To do this, 
 he must needs make the day a long one, by starting with 
 the first streak of light in the east. This was his habit, so 
 that the boys used to say, " He always marches at early 
 dawn, except when he starts the night before." 
 
 It is a study in war to see how he carried out this 
 principle in the famous Valley Campaign. His princijDal 
 antagonist in the field was General Banks at the head of a 
 large army,* whose chief business seemed to be to watch 
 Jackson, and keep him from crossing the Potomac and 
 threatening "Washington. At the same time Fremont was 
 
 * On the 6th of April, 1862, Banks reported 23,093 men present 
 for duty. Ten weeks later (June 16th) he reported nearly ten 
 thousand less, or 13,631. 
 
282 THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN. 
 
 menacing liis left at the liead of a force on the west, 
 •with which he might advance into the Valley and put him- 
 self in Jackson's rear. With these two enemies to look 
 after, Jackson suddenly disappeared from the one in fi'ont 
 (leaving Banks still " watching " his abandoned camp), 
 and literally hiu'led his small force across half a dozen 
 mountains and as many valleys, and struck Fremont a 
 blow which sent him reeling down the valley of the South 
 Branch of the Potomac ; and then, before he could recover 
 from it, he turned upon Banks, who, as soon as he had 
 heard -of Fremont's defeat, had fallen back in haste to 
 Strasburg, where he was overtaken by Jackson, who gave 
 him a similar "love-tap" that sent him on sixty miles 
 farther, clear across the Potomac. The moral effect of 
 these two defeats was not limited to those immediately 
 engaged: it stoj)ped McDowell, who was on the march 
 with 40,000 men, to take part in the campaign against 
 Bichmond — a movement which was immediately arrested, 
 that he might be held in a position to cover Washington. 
 Having thus defeated twa armies and paralj'zed a third^ 
 Jackson obeyed the injunction to " gather up the fi'ag- 
 ments that nothing be lost.'* At Winchester the Govern- 
 ment had accumulated enormous stores — the w^aggon train 
 that took them up the Yalley was fourteen miles long ! — all 
 of which feU into Jackson's hands, and was removed to 
 Staunton to furnish supplies for the Confederate army^ 
 No wonder that they nicknamed Banks their Commissary 
 General! But Jackson's work was not over, for other 
 forces were gathering against him. McDowell was pre- 
 pai-ing to cross the mountains ; while Fremont, who had 
 been reinforced, was retui'ning to the attack, so that Jack- 
 son was confronted by sixty thousand men aj)proaching 
 from opposite quarters. In the advance of such forces he 
 fell back till he could place himself between the two ; and 
 
THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY, 
 
 Illustrating' Valley Campaign 
 
 OF 
 
 "STONEWALL" JACKSON, 
 
 1862. 
 BY JED. HOTCHKISS, T. E. 
 
 ^t-S "< */ Swift Run 
 
 «£e 
 
 i>- 
 
 12 IG 20 24 
 
 1. Martinsburg. 
 
 2. Haiper's Ferry. 
 
 3. Charlestown. 
 i. Berryville. 
 
 5. Winchester. 
 
 6. Kenistown. 
 
 7. Middletown. 
 
 8. Front Royal. 
 
 9. Strasburg. 
 
 10. Woodstock. 
 
 1 1. New Market. 
 
 12. Luray. 
 
 13. Conrad's Store. 
 
 14. HaiTisonburg. 
 
 15. Cross Keys. 
 
 16. Port Republic. 
 
 17. Meehum's River. 
 
 18. Staunton. 
 
 19. McDowell. 
 
 20. Franklin. 
 
 21. Dry River Gap. 
 
 22. Bridgewater 
 
 23. Hagerstown. 
 
 24. Mt. Jackson. 
 
 72 
 
 SCALE OF ENGLISH STATUTE MILES 
 
 Suiilher» S: Co.. Engr'ii »iid Pr't, tt.Y. 
 
 Tlie red line indicates Jackson's route, the arrows shou-ino the direction taken. 
 
THE VALLEY CAMPAIGJ^. 283 
 
 tlien, facing about at Cross Keys, he gave Fremont a 
 second blow as stunning as tlie first ; and the very next day 
 fougbt an equally decisive battle with McDowell's advance, 
 under Shields, at Port Republic. This was the famous 
 " Valley Campaign," and I leave it to the students of both 
 to say, if there was anything more brilliant in the Italian 
 camjDaigns of the First Napoleon.* 
 
 * For the reader who wishes to study this wonderful Cam- 
 paign more minutely, Major Hotchkiss has kindly prepared a 
 Map of the country, with lines indicating the direction of Jack- 
 son's movements, showing how he zigzagged all over the Valley, 
 crossing rivers and mountains, to the widely separated points 
 at which he fought his battles. The following note, written to 
 accompany the Map, gives these rapid movements more in detail 
 than they could be given in the text : 
 
 Jackson spent the Winter of 1861-2 at "Winchester, holding the 
 line of the Potomac, on the north bank of which, at Frederick 
 City, Maryland, lay the Federal Army, under command of Gen. 
 Banks, which began a forward movement Feb. 22d ; crossing the 
 Potomac at Harper's Ferry on the 24th, and appearing March 
 11th in the vicinity of Winchester, Jackson falling back towards 
 Woodstock. Banks followed to the neighborhood of Strasburg, 
 and then fell back and established his headquarters at Winchester. 
 Learning that Banks was about to send part of his force to Mc- 
 Clellan, Jackson advanced towards Winchester, and fought the 
 battle of Kernstown, March 23. He then fell slowly back, reach- 
 ing the vicinity of New Market on the 2d of April, Banks follow- 
 ing to near Mount Jackson. On the 17th Banks advanced, and 
 Jackson fell back to Harrisonburg, and then marching around 
 the southwestern end of the Massanutton Mountains, and across 
 the Shenandoah Eiver, established himself at Conrad's Store on 
 the 19th. Banks's next move was to Harrisonburg. On the last 
 day of the month, April 30th, Jackson moved to near the south- 
 western end of the Massanutton Mountains, and offered battle. 
 While absent from his camp that day, Ewell's Division of the 
 Confederate Army came across the Blue Fridge at Swift Eun Gap, 
 and occupied Jackson's camp. Jackson retui-ned to Conrad's 
 Store, and then turned up the river towards Port Kepublic, 
 struggling through quicksands and mud for two days to reach 
 
284 THE VALLEY CAMPAIGN, 
 
 the vicinity of that village. On the 3d of May, Jackson crossed 
 the Blue Kidge at Brown's Gap, apparently abandoning the Val- 
 ley, and marched to Mecumk's Eiver Station of the Virginia 
 Central Kailroad (now Chesapeake and Ohio), where his troops 
 took the cars to Staunton. On the 6th he advanced to the top of 
 the Big North Mountain, on the way to McDowell, and the next 
 day attacked the advance of Fremont's army at Shenandoah 
 Mountain, and the day after that fought the battle of McDowell, 
 defeating Fremont, who retreated to Franklin, Jackson following 
 in pursuit till the 11th. The next day, leaving Fremont at 
 Franklin, Jackson turned back, and reaching McDowell on the 
 14th, marched to the vicinity of Bridgewater by the 17th, and 
 on the 19th marched down the valley by way of Harrisonburg 
 (Banks having in the meantime fallen back to Strasburg), reach- 
 ing New Market on the 21st, where he turned across the Massa- 
 nutton Mountains to the vicinity of Luray, where Ewell's Divis- 
 ion joined him. Continuing down the South Fork Valley, he fell 
 on Banks's right at Front Eoyal on the 23d, routing it, and cross- 
 ing the rivers on the way to Middletown and Winchester. The 
 next day he attacked Banks's retreating army at Middletown, 
 following it all night to Winchester, where the battle of Win- 
 chester was fought on the morning of May 25th, and Banks's 
 army defeated, and driven across the Potomac by way of Mar- 
 tinsburg. Jackson's advance marched to the vicinity of Har- 
 per's Ferry, where it remained until the 30th of May. Threat- 
 ened by the concentration of Fremont's and McDowell's armies 
 at Strasburg, Jackson collected his army southwest of that place, 
 June 1st, in a strong position. As the Federal Army did not 
 attack him, he fell back slowly up the Valley, reaching Harrison- 
 burg Juno 5th, Fremont's array following, and McDowell's march- 
 ing up the valley of the South Fork by way of Luray. Jackson 
 fell back to Cross Keys, and awaited Fremont's advance, which 
 attacked him June 8th, and was repulsed. That night Jackson 
 crossed the river at Port Kepublie, and the next day (June 9th) 
 fought the battle of Port Eepublic with McDowell's advance, at 
 Lewiston, four miles below Port Kepublie, routing it completely. 
 Jackson then encamped between the rivers, southwest of Port 
 Kepublie, near the famous Weyer's Cave, where he remained 
 until June 17th, when he marched for Kichmond to form the 
 left of General Lee's army in his attack on McClellan. 
 
HIS CALMNESS IN BATTLE. 285 
 
 Witli almost any otlier leader, this incessant motion 
 would only have brought on a speedy catastrophe : for it 
 would have set his brain in such a whirl, that he would 
 strike at random — uncertainly, and therefore unsuccess- 
 fully. But in these rapid marches and countermarches, 
 with constant fighting, he never lost his head. Instead of 
 his mind being confused by the incidents of battle, it was 
 quickened to the utmost intensity of action. As long be- 
 fore as the Mexican war, when conversing with his brother 
 officers as to the effect of the danger of battle upon their 
 spirits, he said that to him "it was always exalting, and 
 that he was conscious of a more pei'fect command of his 
 faculties, and of their more clear and rapid action, when 
 under fire, than at any other time." 
 
 One who had frequent occasion to see Jackson in all 
 the vicissitudes of war, speaks thus of his " stoicism " : 
 
 "Victory and defeat were received with the same degree of 
 stolidity and unconcern. He never seemed elated by the one, 
 nor depressed by the other. I saw him at the battle of Antie- 
 tam, in the midst of the carnage, when the air was filled with 
 flying shot and bursting shells ; and he sat upon his horse as 
 unmoved as if he were on dress parade. As the Confederate 
 losses were very great, Lee ordered a retreat across the Poto- 
 mac — a movement which was a very critical one, as a swollen 
 river was behind us, and the Fedei'al forces, directed by Mc- 
 Clellan in person, were pressing us in front. Every moment 
 added to the confusion. But during the whole scene Jackson 
 maintained the same stoical demeanor. I watched his face 
 and the expression of his eye. He gave his orders just as 
 if all was going well, betraying no despondency, nor even any 
 undue excitement. Again I have seen him where, as in his last 
 effort at Chaneellorsville, he swept everything before him. But 
 he showed no more elation in the hour of victory than of depres- 
 sion in the hour of defeat. He contemplated both with the 
 complacency of a Moslem, as if he were a child of destiny, or 
 rather simply an instrument in the hand of the Almighty to 
 execute His will." 
 
286 HIS STERN DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Some wlio are disposed to be critical of gTeat military 
 achievements, ascribe this marvellous success, not to the 
 genius of Jackson, so much as to the weakness of those 
 opposed to him ; and indeed it is hardly probable that 
 he would have " careered " up and down the Valley so 
 triumphantly, if instead of Banks and Fremont, he had 
 struck Sheridan. But with all abatements, it must be 
 confessed that he showed a wonderful capacity and vigor. 
 
 Of course, his success could not have been obtained 
 without rigid military discipline. While kind to his men, 
 he would tolerate no disobedience. Once on a march, 
 fearing lest his men might stray from the ranks and com- 
 mit acts of pillage, he had issued an order that the soldiers 
 should not enter private dwellings. Disregarding the 
 order, a soldier entered a house, and even used insulting 
 language to the women of the family. This was reported 
 to Jackson, who had the man arrested, tried by drum-head 
 court-martial, and shot in twenty minutes ! 
 
 Again, three men had deserted, and were retaken and 
 sentenced to death. Their old companions made every 
 effort to save them, but Jackson was inexorable. To an 
 officer who jDetitioned for their pardon, he answered sharjj- 
 ly, " You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! Here are my 
 brave men exposing their lives, and these cowards run 
 away, and leave their eomrades to fight the battle alone." 
 Then the chaplain tried a religious appeal, telling the Gen- 
 eral that " if those men were shot, they would certainly go 
 to hell!" "That is my business," said Jackson as he 
 turned upon him with disgust, and seizing him by the 
 shoulders, literally whirled him out of his presence. The 
 ■ men were shot the next morning. 
 
 Indeed Jackson was perhaps a little too ready in these 
 matters, presenting in this respect a contrast to Lee, who 
 v/as always disposed to leniency. Once they were riding 
 
RELIANCE ON THE DIVINE WILL. 287 
 
 together, wlien some cases of trespass were reported, at 
 which Lee said, " We shall have to shoot some of these 
 fellows yet." Instantly Jackson caught at the word, and 
 said, " I will have them shot to-morrow," to which his 
 commander answered in a way that showed that he did 
 not mean to be taken in such grim earnest as to order his 
 soldiers to immediate execution. 
 
 But the most remarkable thing in this extraordinary 
 man, was the union of the soldier and the saint. It was 
 no ordinary faith that had possession of his mind : he 
 lived and moved and had his being in God. No Eound- 
 head of Cromwell, no ancient Crusader, had more absolute 
 assurance that he was simply an agent of the Divine will. 
 One who knew him well, says that " he was always praying 
 when he was not fighting," two things which seem not to go 
 together, yet that have been combined in some who were 
 at once great soldiers and religious fanatics. Macaulay 
 records the fanatical enthusiasm of one of Cromwell's 
 Roundheads as, bursting out in a kind of holy frenzy, he 
 exclaimed " Oh how good it is to pray and fight ! " So was 
 it with Stonewall Jackson. In his view, a human being 
 could no more stand in the way of a Divine decree than in 
 the path of one of his own cannon balls. Sufficient for him 
 was it that he cotdd be the humble agent of executing the 
 Almighty will. If one had broken in upon his tent before 
 he went into battle, he might have found him on his knees 
 in an agony of prayer that God would give him the vic- 
 tory ; those who rode beside him on the march, often 
 observed that his lips were moving in silent prayer ; and 
 when the battle was won, he always recognized it as not 
 by his own wisdom or valor, but by the favor of that 
 Almighty Ruler to whom he bowed again in humble 
 thanksgiving. 
 
 As he was so strict in his own religious habits, this 
 
288 HOW HE KEPT SUNDAY. 
 
 modern Roundhead kept Sunday in the camp as if he had 
 been at home. To be sure, he had sometimes to fight a 
 battle on that day, but in that case he made it up by keep- 
 ing another day in its stead. " Sometimes," said the Ma- 
 jor, "he would keep two or three Sundays running, to 
 make up for lost time, so as to balance the account ! " 
 
 In the afternoon of the day we were riding up the 
 Valley, we passed a beautiful grove which recalled some 
 reminiscences to my companion. "In this very grove," he 
 said, " we spent a Sabbath in the Summer of 1862. We 
 had divine service, and all was as still as in any Sabbath- 
 keeping village of New England. The tents were pitched 
 under the trees ; and the soldiers were stretched on the 
 ground, resting after the fatigues of their long marches 
 and hard battles. The next day the General sat apart, 
 brooding over something in his mind, but what it was he 
 communicated to no one : for he never told his plans to 
 anybody. Not a word did he whisper to me, though I 
 shared his confidence as much as any one, and we often 
 slept under the same blanket. Towards evening he sent 
 for me, and asked to see the maps of the country towards 
 Staunton, which I brought, and he pored over them a 
 good while, and then said carelessly, 'By the way, they 
 are having some fighting towards Richmond : have you 
 any maps of the country there ? ' I brought them, and he 
 looked at them, but without any sign of eagerness or mark 
 of peculiar interest. About ten that night he called me 
 and said, ' Please mount your horse and ride to such a 
 
 point in the Valley, and tell Colonel M to go ahead ! ' 
 
 It was pitch dark : but I picked my way over the blind 
 roads, tiU about midnight I reached the place, and deliv- 
 ered the order. I did not return until the next morning. 
 About nine o'clock I reached the grove in which we had 
 been encamped the day before, but not a soldier was to be 
 
AT CHANCELLORSVILLE. 289 
 
 Been ! Every tent had been struck ; there was not an 
 army-waggon, not a single piece of artillery, not a man, 
 nor a gun. An army of 20,000 men had vanished as com- 
 pletely as the host of Sennacherib when 
 
 "The might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
 Had melted like snow in the glance of the Lord." 
 
 It was all a riddle and a mystery, till, when it was ex- 
 plained, it was seen to be a marvel of military genius and 
 execution. The errand of my fiiend was to caiTy an order 
 to the Colonel who was left in command in the Valley, to 
 make a demonstration towards Winchester, to keep up 
 the impression that the Valley was stiU to be the scene of 
 important mihtary operations, while Jackson executed one 
 of his astonishing marches, through a gap in the mountains, 
 and when next heard from was striking the right wing of 
 McClellan's army advancing towards Richmond! That 
 flank attack was the blow that decided the fate of the 
 Peninsula Campaign. 
 
 But it would be too long a story to follow him in all 
 his marches and battles. The Major was with him to his 
 last and greatest victory at Chancellorsville : indeed as 
 topographical engineer he had studied the position, and 
 pointed out the opportunity which it presented for a 
 great flank movement. That movement decided the day, 
 the glory of which Lee justly ascribed to the "skill and 
 energy" of Jackson. When the sun set on that day, it 
 seemed as if the Confederates had gained a victory that 
 might end the war. But Jackson never left a success 
 incomplete, and even when night came on, and one could 
 hardly distinguish fi'iend from foe, he was still pressing to 
 the front, and even beyond his own lines, to find the posi- 
 tion of the enemy, which he no sooner discovered than he 
 ordered a new line of battle of fresh troojDS to be formed 
 for immediate action ; and then riding back with his staflf 
 
290 THE FLANK MOVEMENT. 
 
 and escort at full speed, the nish of horses was mistaken by 
 the " new line of battle " that had been thrown across the 
 road after he had ridden forward, for a charge of cavalry, 
 and was fired upon by his own men.* It was an accident 
 
 *An officer who took part in this flank movement, gives the 
 following account of what passed under his own eyes, and of the 
 circumstances of Jackson's death : 
 
 " On Saturday morning General Lee and Stonewall Jackson came 
 and sat down under a tree near where I was, with a map spread out 
 between them. [The Major was one of that group, and adds yet 
 more minute details of the scene. He says: " Lee and Jackson were 
 seated on two empty cracker boxes, that had been left from the camp 
 of the Federals, which had been pitched there the day before ; whUe 
 on a third I had spread out a map that I had prepared, showing the 
 whole position, with the direction of every road."] General Lee, with 
 a pencil in hand, explained the position, and Jackson from time to 
 time nodded assent, at the close of which Jackson called his chief-of- 
 Btaff, Major Pendleton. A few moments later the troops were moving 
 off at double-quick in an entirely unlooked-for direction. As each 
 regiment passed, Jackson said a few hurried words to the command- 
 ing officer. To me he said : ' Detail a strong guard, and keep your 
 own position with them behind your men. Bayonet any stragglers, 
 and keep the ranks closed up.' In addition to this precaution, he 
 kept a squadron of cavalry in the rear, to keep the men up in the 
 march. Thus urged on, the column moved forward silently but 
 rapidly for nine miles, with only three halts to catch breath. 
 
 "The first intimation that I had that we were in the presence 
 of the enemy, was the sight of deserted camp-fires, dressed beeves, 
 coffee-pots, and steaks still broiling on the gridiron. This was a 
 tempting sight to our men, who were always poorly fed and very 
 hungry, but they could not stop, and each man grabbed what he 
 could and kept on. One man attempted to dispose of the whole of a 
 beefsteak as he ran, and others drank at double-quick from the 
 spouts of steaming coffee-pots. 
 
 " The next sight which greeted us, was a long line of knapsacks 
 stacked up in pUes behind the Federal rifle-pits, in front of which had 
 
HE IS WOUNDED. 291 
 
 that might have happened on either side in the gathering 
 gloom. He feU from his horse into the arms of one of his 
 staff, and was found to be wounded in two places, in his 
 right hand and in his left arm. Both were at once tied up 
 to stop the flow of blood ; but such was the confusion that 
 it was some time before a stretcher could be brought to 
 carry him to the rear, where he could receive proper 
 attention. At length it came, and the bearers raised up 
 their beloved chief, but had gone only a few steps when 
 one of them was killed by a shot of cannister from a 
 Federal battery, and he was thrown to the ground with a 
 violence that caused him intense agony. Again he was 
 lifted up and started on his way. Meanwhile the Major 
 had gone for the surgeon. Dr. McGuii-e, who took him in 
 an ambulance to the rear, where he found the arm so 
 shattered that it must be amputated immediatel}', to 
 which the General submitted with his usual fortitude. 
 
 But the wound was considered by no means fatal. 
 Nothing was needed but care and rest. That he might 
 
 been left a line of Confederate skirmishers and sharp-shooters, to 
 deceive the enemy with a show of attack in front, who were only ap- 
 prised of the change of base, as Jackson's ubiquitous and irresistible 
 ' StonewaU Brigade ' came charging down upon them from the rear ! 
 " Towards evening I had deployed my regiment as skirmishers, 
 when a squadron of Federal cavalry rode right into our midst, and 
 we bagged them to the last man. Just then Jackson rode up with a 
 few staff officers, and said, ' Colonel, fire at anything that comes from 
 that direction ! ' This order, which it was my fortune to receive, was 
 the last StonewaU Jackson ever gave. He then rode on to reconnoitre 
 the position of the enemy. Later my regiment was relieved by one of 
 the North Carolina infantry, to whose Colonel I repeated Jackson's 
 order. In a few moments Jackson and his staff and escort came 
 riding back rapidly, and the men of this regiment mistook them, as it 
 was then dark, for another squadron of Federal cavalry, and fired ! " 
 
292 HIS DEATH. 
 
 be away from the noise of the camp, and in a place of 
 safety, he was carried a few miles across the country to 
 a private house west of Fredericksbvu-g, near Guiney's 
 Station, which was pointed out to me as we came up from 
 Richmond. Here for a few days he seemed to be on the 
 road to recovery. The Major, who accompanied him 
 thither, found him the following day cheerful and hopeful. 
 Indeed, with his strong religious faith, he felt that he could 
 not die, for he was sure that " the Lord had more for him 
 to do," and he fully expected to get well, and to take part 
 in the camj)aign. But even then he would not let those 
 around him j)ray for his recovery, except in entire submis- 
 sion to the Divine will, and that will had decreed otherwise. 
 The shock had been very great fi-om his double wound, 
 with the loss of blood, the fall from the litter, and the 
 amputation ; and when, after aU this, pneumonia set in, 
 the end was inevitable. 
 
 It was on the Sabbath day that he saw the light for the 
 last time. He said "I have always desired to die on 
 Sunday," and his wish was granted. The sun rose 
 brightly that morning — the tenth of May, 1863 — and 
 though he had been told that this day would be his last, 
 he would not keep his chaplain at his bedside, but insisted 
 that he should go to headquarters, and preach as usual. 
 It was a sorrowful service, for all hearts were bowed with 
 a sense of the great loss that was impending. When it 
 closed. General Lee inquired eagerly for the latest news, 
 and when told that Jackson could not live through the 
 day, he turned away, unable to control his emotion. Even 
 then he was passing through the valley of the shadow 
 of death. He stiU breathed, but his mind was wandering. 
 Perhaps a gleam fi'om the river of life caught his dying eje, 
 as he murmured faintly, " Let us cross over the river, and 
 rest under the trees," and the strong, brave heart stood still. 
 
BURIED AT LEXINGTON. 293 
 
 The death of Jackson caused universal mom^ning 
 throughout the Confederacy, where he was regarded as the 
 greatest of the Southern leaders, with the exception only 
 of General Lee. It took away aU the exultation of Chan- 
 cellorsviUe. As the Commander-in-chief himself said, 
 "Any victory would he too dear at such a price." It 
 was but a melancholy consolation to pay the highest 
 honors to his memory. The body was borne to Richmond 
 and laid in state in the Capitol, where tens of thousands 
 thronged to look for the last time on the face that they had 
 seen so often amid the smoke and thunder of battle ; and 
 then they carried him away to his last resting-place among 
 the hiUs which he so much loved. Spending Sunday in 
 Lexington, I went to the church where Jackson had wor- 
 shipped for ten years, after which two of the Professors 
 who had been associated with him, took me to the spot 
 where he rests. It is on a hiU-top, looking down into the 
 peaceful valley, beyond which rise the everlasting hills. 
 "As the mountains are round about Jerusalem," so are 
 they round about Lexington, and no saint or soldier could 
 desire a better spot in which to lie down and sleep till the 
 heavens be no more. 
 
 In the opinion of many the death of Jackson was a fatal 
 blow to the Confederacy. No one felt the loss so much as 
 General Lee, when two months later, he fought the battle 
 of Gettysburg, the result of which might have been victory 
 if his " right arm " had not been taken from him. But 
 that was not to be. The Ruler of Nations had ordained a 
 different issue — a fact which we have to recognize, even if 
 we cannot explain. It is not necessary to go quite so far 
 as a good priest of New Orleans, an ardent Confederate, a 
 chaplain of one of Jackson's Louisiana regiments, who felt 
 called upon, in a prayer at the unveiling of a monument to 
 Jackson, to offer an excuse for the Almighty, which he did 
 
294 HIS DAUGHTER LAID BESIDE HIM. 
 
 in this remarkable address to tlie Throne of grace : " When 
 in Thine inscrutable decree it was ordained that the Confed- 
 eracy should not succeed, it became necessary for Thee to 
 remove Stonewall Jackson! " But we need not inquire into 
 the purposes of Him with whom are the issues of life and 
 death. Without attempting what does not belong to us, 
 we can recognize the great qualities of the heroic dead, 
 and on this day of peace, beautiful as the Sabbath on 
 which he died, I would place a flower on the grave of 
 Stonewall Jackson. 
 
 Six months passed, and I visited Lexington again, and 
 once more turned aside to stop at the gate of the old Cem- 
 etery, and walked along the path trodden by so many feet, 
 to the well known spot which attracts so many jDilgrims. 
 I found beside it a new made grave, which had been open- 
 ed but a few days before to receive the only daughter of 
 Stonewall Jackson, who was but a babe when her father 
 died, and was brought to him in his last moments to be 
 laid ujDon his bed to receive a last fond caress. Little 
 seemed it then that she would be with him again so soon. 
 But with gentle footsteps she, like the true daughter that 
 she was, has followed him till she too has " passed over the 
 river"; and now the warrior and his child, forgetting all 
 the sorrows of this troubled life, " rest together under the 
 trees " in the Paradise of God. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE LAST YEARS OF GENERAL LEE. 
 
 "The last hope of the Confederacy was dead when 
 Stonewall Jackson was laid in his grave at Lexington ! " 
 So said the Major after he had taken the greater part of a 
 day in detaihng to me, to my intense interest, the marvel- 
 lous career of that great soldier. But not so reasoned all 
 those who had fought by Jackson's side. Not so Jackson 
 himself : for when, on hearing of his wound, Lee wrote to 
 him, " Could I have directed events, I should have chosen, 
 for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your 
 stead," he answered, " No, no ! Better that ten Jacksons 
 should fall than one Lee ! " And now, though Jackson 
 was dead, Lee still lived, and hope Hved with him ; vic- 
 tory was still possible ; and in that faith, and under that 
 leadership, the Confederates fought on for two years more. 
 (Jackson died on the 10th of May, 1863 ; but Lee did not 
 surrender tiU the 9th of April, 1865.) How well they fought 
 is matter of history. They fought as they could not have 
 fought, had they not been led by a great Commander. 
 From the very beginning of his military career, aU around 
 him recognized his extraordinary capacity. General Scott, 
 with whom he served in Mexico, pronounced him " the very 
 
296 THE WAR WAS OVER. 
 
 best soldier that he ever saw in the Jield." But the greatest 
 proof of his ability was when he did not serve under any- 
 body, but planned his own campaigns. Some military 
 critics I know assume to criticize him even here. To such 
 I have only to say that it is a very poor compliment to our 
 leaders and our armies, to question the ability of one who, 
 with less than half the numbers,* kept back for two years 
 the tremendous forces of the North that were pressing in 
 on every side. "Whatever others may say of General Lee, 
 the great soldiers who fought against him, fully concede 
 his splendid military genius. 
 
 But it is not my purpose to speak of his military 
 career. That belongs to history. " The world knows it 
 by heart." But there is a chapter in that life which the 
 world does not know so well, which ought to be told, to 
 the greater honor of the illustrious dead. 
 
 The war was over. The Northern armies had returned 
 victorious, while the veterans of the South, defeated but 
 not dishonored, took their way back to their desolate 
 homes. The army disbanded and dispersed, what should 
 its leader do? His old ancestral home, standing on that 
 noble height which looks down on the Potomac, and 
 across to the dome of the Capitol, was in the hands of 
 those against whom he had been fighting for fovir years, 
 and had even been tiu'ned into a national cemetery, in 
 which slept thousands of the Union dead, whose very 
 ghosts might rise up against his retiu-n. But if he was an 
 exile from his own home, there were thousands of others 
 
 *When the surrender took place, almost the first question 
 which General Meade asked General Lee, was "How many 
 men had you at Petersburg and in your lines, when they were 
 broken ? " "Forty thousand," was the reply. " I am amazed," 
 said Meade, "and could not believe it, if it were not you that 
 said it." 
 
HE CLINGS TO VIRGINIA. 297 
 
 open to him all over the South, and across the sea, where 
 his fame had gone before him, and would have made him 
 a welcome gTiest in princely halls. But such a flight from 
 his country (for so he would have regarded it) was impos- 
 sible to one of his chivalrous spirit. He had cast in his 
 lot with his people : they had believed in him and followed 
 him, as they thought, to certain triumph ; he would not 
 desert them in the day of their adversity. 
 
 Of coiu'se, had he been willing to listen to them, he 
 could have received any number of "business" proposals. 
 Rich moneyed corjDorations would have been glad to "re- 
 tain" him at any price as President or Director, so that 
 they covdd have the benefit of his great name. One, it is 
 said, offered him $50,000 a year. But he was not to be 
 allured by such temptations. The very fact that they were 
 couj)led with offers of money, was reason enough why he 
 should reject them all, as he did without a moment's hesi- 
 tation. Nor could he be lured by any military proposals. 
 Maximilian offered to place him at the head of his army if 
 he would go to Mexico, thinking that his genius might save 
 the fortunes of the falling empire. But he would not accept 
 any exOe, however splendid. His answer was " I love the 
 mountains of Virginia still." His work must be at home, 
 for work he must have. After his active life he could not 
 sink down into idleness. With his mihtary career ended, 
 he must find a new career in civil life. Besides, he had a 
 proud spirit of independence, which would not permit him 
 to live on the bounty of the rich at home, or the titled 
 abroad. He would " work for a living," like the poorest 
 of his soldiers. 
 
 At length came a proposal that seemed most alien to 
 his former pursuits : that the Commander of the Southern 
 Armies should become the President of a College ! And 
 yet this change from a military to an academic career, was 
 
298 COMES TO LEXINGTON. 
 
 not so violent as it might seem. He had been for three 
 years Superintendent of the MiHtary Academy at "West 
 Point, where he was associated with young men, an inti- 
 macy which was continued during the whole period that 
 he was in the army. He was at home among students, 
 for he had been a student, and gone thi'oixgh all the 
 stages of scholarly discipline. Besides, the position of the 
 College to which he was invited, in Lexington, Virginia, 
 was attractive to him. It was remote from cities, among 
 the mountains, and yet within the limits of that Old 
 Dominion which he looked upon as his mother. 
 
 "When it was known that he had accepted the position, 
 his coming was looked for with great eagerness by the 
 jDeople of Lexington ; but he did not fix the time, as he 
 wished to avoid any public demonstration. But it had 
 been arranged that wheii he came, he should spend a few 
 days in the hos^Ditable dwelling in which I was so fortunate 
 as to be a guest. While thus in expectancy, the Professor 
 was one day taking a walk, when he saw riding up the 
 street a figure that he instantly recognized as the same 
 that had been so often seen at the head of the army ; and 
 to make the picture perfect, he was mounted on his old 
 war-horse — a magnificent iron-gray called "Traveller" — 
 that had so often borne his master through the smoke of 
 battle. He wore no military uniform, nor sign of rank, 
 but a light Summer di'ess, while a broad Panama hat 
 shaded a face that no one could mistake. Advancing 
 towards him, the Professor told of the arrangements for 
 his entertainment till he could be established in a house 
 for himself, and led the way to his home. 
 
 Naturally my friend's family were at first somewhat 
 awed by the presence of their illustrious guest. But this 
 was soon dissipated by his simple and unaffected manner. 
 What "broke the ice" most completely was his manner 
 
PRESIDENT OF A COLLEGE. 299 
 
 with the children. He was always very fond of the little 
 people,* and as soon as they appeared, "Uncle Robert," 
 as he was affectionately called in the army, had them in 
 his arms and on his knees, till they soon felt perfectly at 
 home with him. They " captured " him at once, and he 
 " captui'ed " them, and in this captured their parents also. 
 From that moment all constraint disappeared, though 
 nothing could ever take from the profound respect and 
 veneration with which they looked up to " General Lee." 
 
 This was in September, 1865, and on the 2d of October, 
 after solemn prayer by the venerable Dr. White, he took 
 the oeth of office, as required by the laws of the College, 
 and thus became its President. Natvirally his name drew 
 great numbers of students, not only from Virginia, but 
 from all parts of the South, who were eager to "serve" 
 under such a leader, and the number of undergraduates 
 rose from a hundred and fifty to over four hundred. 
 
 From this some may imagine that he was expected to 
 be, and that he was, a mere figure-head to the Institution. 
 No mistake could be gTeater. From the moment that he 
 took the office, he applied himself to its duties with con- 
 scientious fidelity. He did not teach in the classes, though 
 he might have taught in any department, for he was an 
 excellent scholar, both in classics and in mathematics ; but 
 like a good soldier, he wished to take his place where he 
 could be the most useful, and clearly his office was that of 
 general superintendence. He visited all the class-rooms, 
 not in regular course, but coming when not expected, and 
 followed each professor in his lecture, generally asking 
 
 * This love of children, and other domestic traits, are very 
 beautifully depicted in an article in the Century Magazine for 
 June, 1889, by Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, a personal friend as 
 well as neighbor of General Lee during all the time of his resi- 
 dence in Lexington. 
 
300 HIS GENTLENESS IN REBUKE. 
 
 some questions at the close. He informed himself of the 
 standing of each student, and the rules of study were as 
 rigid as mihtary discipline, the alternative being " study or 
 the plough"! If any college boy was idle, or disposed to 
 shii'k his books, he was summoned to the President's office 
 for a gentle admonition — so gentle indeed, that when he 
 came away, his fellow students were apt to say, " Who said 
 ' Good-morning ' first ? " — that is, " Did you know when 
 General Lee was done with you ? " 
 
 One gift he had which stood him in good stead at the 
 head of a College as at the head of an army : he understood 
 in perfection the art of administering rebuke in a way to 
 be effective, and yet not to leave too deep a sting. In this 
 there could be no greater difference between two men than 
 there was between Lee and Jackson, which had frequent 
 illustration in the army in the way they showed their dis- 
 pleasure at one particular form of rudeness. I hope it will 
 not be set down as a mark of disloyalty to their native 
 State, that they did not pay tribute to its chief staple, 
 tobacco, which neither of them took, or could tolerate, in 
 any form. Both had a positive dislike to it, which they 
 did not hesitate to express, though each in a characteristic 
 way. If an oil&cer came into Jackson's presence, puffing 
 the smoke of a cigar in his face, he was very likely to get 
 a rough salutation, which sent him to the right about in 
 double quick time, and taught him better manners in the 
 future. But General Lee could not administer a rebuke 
 except in a coTU*tly way. If an officer rode up to deliver a 
 message, or in military phrase, to make a report, and the 
 General perceived that he had a cigar in his mouth, or 
 even in his hand, he would not mortify him by a sharp 
 thrust, but turn the point of his own rapier by a compli- 
 ment. If, on a glance at the shoulder-straps of the new 
 comer, he perceived that he was a Major, he would address 
 
HIS INFLUENCE OVER YOUNG MEN. 301 
 
 him as " Colonel," thus putting him a peg higher in mili- 
 taxy rant, and then add in his blandest manner, as if to 
 relieve him from embarrassment, " I will excuse you till 
 you have finished your cigar," a gentle reminder that he 
 had forgotten the courtesy due to his superior, which, 
 while it did not wound his pride so oj^enly, touched his 
 sense of propriety not less than the blunt and somewhat 
 scornful reprimand of Stonewall Jackson, 
 
 In one respect his influence was immeasurable. Every 
 man in the South looked up to General Lee as the highest 
 type of manhood, and his very presence was an inspiration. 
 This is the influence which young men feel more than any 
 other — that inspired by intense admiration — an influence 
 that Avould have been very potent for evil if the object of 
 their admiration had been merely a great soldier, dazzling 
 them by his genius, but destitute of high principle. Had 
 that been the case, his influence would have been as 
 demorahzing as now it was elevating, since his superiority 
 in all other respects was united with a character that was 
 so gentle and so good. 
 
 That he might reach the young men in College, he 
 sought their acquaintance, instead of standing apart in icy 
 dignity. Prof. White tells me that, if they were walking 
 together in the grounds, and a student was seen approach- 
 ing, he would ask who he was, and when he came up, 
 instead of passing him with a stiff and stately bow, would 
 stop and call him by name, and ask about his family and 
 his studies, and speak a few words of encouragement, 
 w^hich the young man would not forget to his dying day. 
 To be under the authority and influence of such a man, 
 was an education in manUness. There was not a student 
 who did not feel it, and to whom it was not the highest 
 ambition to be guided by such a leader, to be infused with 
 his spirit, and to follow his example. 
 
302 IMPORTANCE GIVEN TO RELIGION. 
 
 From the first he attached great importance in any 
 system of education to Rehgion. He was himself a devout 
 member of the Episcopal Church, and no one was more 
 regular in attendance on its services. No one knelt with 
 more huniihty in the house of God, or responded more 
 fervently to the prayers. But it was not merely because 
 he found his own personal comfort in this faith or worship 
 that he desired it for others. He beheved that Religion 
 lies at the foundation of all that is worthy to be called 
 character. In his long mihtary hfe, Avhich was of neces- 
 sity a public one, he had seen a great deal of men of the 
 world — men of society, men of fashion — and he knew 
 how all this outward grace might cover the meanest self- 
 ishness and the blackest heart. He had come to feel more 
 and more that one could not be truly great who was not 
 truly good ; that life was not given for pleasure only, but 
 that it had grave responsibilities ; and he wished his 
 young men to recognize that they had duties to others as 
 well as to themselves, and that the truest heroism was in 
 self-forgetfulness and self-deaial. This type of character, 
 he knew, could not be formed on mere sentiment : it could 
 be iuspii'ed only by a profound religious faith ; and so he 
 esteemed it as above aU science to "know God." If he 
 had been the College pastor, he could not have been more 
 earnest that his large household should be infused with 
 spiritual hfe ; and hence he often expressed to the pastors 
 of the churches around him his desire for " a revival " in 
 the CoUege ; that the young men should go out, not only 
 thoroughly educated, but having in them the elements of 
 a strong religious character. 
 
 Soon after he came to Lexington a house was built for 
 him in the row of the College buildings. It is a very plain 
 brick house, with nothing pretentious without or within. 
 Here he lived the life of a modest country gentleman, 
 
HIS CAUTION IN SPEAKING OF OTHERS. 303 
 
 seldom going away from home, and tlien only to the White 
 Sulphur Springs, or some other quiet resting place. Now 
 and then he paid a visit to his old home in Richmond, and 
 once or twice to Baltimore. Once he was called to Wash- 
 ington to give testimony before a Committee of Congress, 
 when he was received by General Grant, who was then 
 President, with the distinction which belonged to him. 
 But he never went North, and indeed with these excep- 
 tions, scarcely went beyond the bounds of his own beloved 
 Virginia. Accustomed in the field to the saddle, he still 
 loved the exercise, and was often seen riding over the hills 
 aroiind Lexington, either alone, or accompanied by one of 
 his daughters. He was fond of plain country people, and 
 delighted to rein up by the roadside, and talk with the 
 farmers about their farms and their crops ; and no painter 
 or poet could enjoy more intensely the beauties of nature, 
 the hills and valleys, the woods and waters, the sun-risings 
 and sun-settings. 
 
 Of course, wherever he went he was an object of curi- 
 osity, and sometimes it required all his tact to parry the 
 advances of those who inti'uded upon him. Some with 
 more eagerness than politeness, asked him questions about 
 his battles, even his opinion of the officers who served 
 under him, or those who fought against him. To such 
 questions he always made a courteous reply, even while 
 avoiding a direct answer, for while he was too modest to 
 speak of himself and what he had done, he was very reti- 
 cent in speaking of other military men in either army. 
 He knew that whatever fell from his lips would be repeat- 
 ed, and not always as he said it, but with a change of 
 words, or in a different tone of voice, that might give it 
 quite another meaning. Indeed with all his caution, he 
 was often quoted as saying what he did not say. As an 
 illustration, Prof. White told me that a story had gone the 
 
304 HE WRITES NO MEMOIRS. 
 
 rounds of the papers to tlie effect that in a conversation 
 Gen. Lee had brought his clenched hand down on the table, 
 to give emphasis to his utterance, as he said, " If I had had 
 Stonewall Jackson with me I should have w^on the battle of 
 Gettysburg and established the Southern Confederacy!" 
 "Now," said the Professor, "without ever asking him, I 
 know that such an occurrence never took place, for in the 
 first place General Lee never 'brought his hand down on 
 the table ' — he was not that sort of man — it is impossible 
 to conceive of him as using any violence of gestiu'e or of 
 language. And as to Stonewall Jackson, while he did feel 
 keenly the absence of that great corj)S-commander, he was 
 not the man to indvdge in sweeping and positive state- 
 ments ; he never spoke with such absolute assurance of 
 anything, but always with a degree of reserve, as once^ 
 when we were riding together, he said in his usual guard- 
 ed and cautious manner : ' If I had had Stonewall Jackson 
 with me— so far as man can see — I should have won the 
 battle of Gettysburg.' So careful was he to put in this 
 qualification : for he always recognized an overruling 
 Power that may disappoint the wisest calculations, and 
 defeat the most careful combinations of courage and skill." 
 To the same habit of reserve we must ascribe it, at 
 least in part, that he never wrote anything in regard to his 
 own military career. The fi'iend to whom I have referred 
 so often. Major Jed. Hotchkiss, writes me that " it was the 
 intention of General Lee to write his ' Memoirs,' foUowing 
 the example of his father, 'Light Horse Harry' of the 
 Revolution ; but that his private papers were all burned 
 by a foolish guard, who was left in charge of his waggon, 
 and who, when it was about to be captured, set fire to 
 it, thus destroying the records which would furnish the 
 most accurate information. Still he did not relinquish 
 his purpose, but began collecting materials for it, and ask- 
 
A GREAT LOSS TO HISTORY. 305 
 
 ed me to prepare the maps to illustrate his campaigns. I 
 went to Washington for him to get copies of his reports 
 from the captui'ed archives, but they -woiild not let him 
 have them then ; and afterwards, when they were more 
 willing, his health had given way, and it was too late." 
 This is a great loss to history. Of course whatever papers 
 were captured at Bichmond, and transferred to Washing- 
 ton, may still be preserved to furnish the materials of 
 history. But it is not the same thing to have these materi- 
 als "worked up" by some future historian, as to have 
 them used by the very man who dictated these orders and 
 despatches. There is a fascination in the story of a great 
 war told by one who was a chief actor in it. Caesar wrote 
 his own Commentaries : and the conversations of Napoleon 
 at St. Helena furnish invaluable materials for the history 
 of that great soldier. So with our General Grant. No 
 man was more modest, or more reserved and shy, and it 
 was only the pressure of sudden disaster overwhelming 
 his household that forced oui" Ulysses the Silent to break 
 thi-ough his accustomed reserve, and tell a story that, 
 though told with a soldier-like simjilicity, is of marvellous 
 interest. So it would have been a priceless contribution 
 to history if we could have had the other side of our civil 
 war told by the pen of General Lee. Had he but opened 
 his lips, the whole world would have listened to the thrill- 
 ing stoiy. But he may well have been reluctant, not alone 
 because of want of materials or failing health, but also 
 because it would bring back too many painful memories. 
 Even a soldier's courage might hesitate to renew the an- 
 guish that was being softened by time ; to call up again 
 the hopes and fears that belonged to what was irrevocably 
 past. And if he had written, he would have had to pass 
 judgment on his old companions-in-arms, the hving and 
 the dead — an ungrateful task, from which he, with his ex- 
 
306 HIS HOME IN LEXINGTON. 
 
 treme reluctance to give pain, might well shrink. And so 
 he died and made no sign. 
 
 With all this in mind, I went to the house where he 
 lived and died. It is occupied by his son, General Custis 
 Lee, who succeeded him as President of the College — a 
 man of such extreme modesty that only those who know 
 him intimately know his real worth : how much there is in 
 him of his illustrious father. I had a letter to him from 
 the Hon. John Randolph Tucker, and he received me with 
 great kindness, and showed me the house, which, plain as 
 it is, has its treasures. As he is the great-grandson of Mrs. 
 Custis, who after the death of her first husband became 
 the wife of Washington, he has inherited many household 
 articles which belonged to the Father of his Country — 
 the old family plate on the side board, and the old family 
 pictvu'es hanging on the wall. But of even more interest is 
 whatever is connected with General Lee — the home in 
 which he lived for five years — the chamber in which he 
 slept ; the libraiy in which he received his friends ; the 
 books around him ; the table at which he wrote ; and the 
 dining-room in which he died ; for it was here, whUe 
 standing at the head of his table, in the very act of asking 
 a blessing, that he received the fatal stroke. As he sank 
 into his chair, those around him caught him and raised 
 him up, and brought a bed and placed him upon it, but 
 did not attempt to carry him to his room. Here he lay 
 for two weeks, between life and death, saying but little, 
 though conscious apparently that the end was approach- 
 ing. One who watched with him. Colonel Preston John- 
 ston, has described the scene, as he " lay in the darkened 
 room, with the lamp and the hearth-fire casting shadows 
 upon his noble face," so calm and peaceful with the greater 
 shadow that now rested upon it. "Once in the solemn 
 watches of the night," he says, "when I handed him the 
 
HIS DEATH : RECUMBENT STATUE. 307 
 
 prescribed nourishment, he turned upon me with a look of 
 friendly recognition, and then cast down his eyes with 
 such a sadness in them as I can never forget. But he 
 spoke not a word : not because he was unable — for at times 
 he did speak brief sentences with distinct enunciation* — 
 but because he saw (before the family or friends or physi- 
 cian) the portals of death opening to him, and chose to 
 wrap himself in an unbroken silence as he went down to 
 enter them." Thus he lingered till on the morning of the 
 12th of October, 1870, the tolling bells announced to the 
 sorrowing community that he had breathed his last. 
 
 From the house it is but a few rods across the College 
 grounds to the chapel, in the rear of which is a recess, 
 where lies a recumbent statue of the great leader. It is 
 in marble, and represents the soldier at full length, as we 
 have seen in old cathedi-als the bronze effigies of those 
 whose crossed limbs tell how they took up arms for the 
 Cross, and fought for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre 
 at Jerusalem. But it is no mailed Crusader that is 
 stretched upon the tomb : for the hand that once grasped 
 the sword, is folded on the breast, and the whole impres- 
 sion is one of profound repose. It is a heroic figure, fuU 
 of strength, as of a warrior taking his rest, and yet over all 
 there is an exjDression of calm, as of one with whom the 
 battle of life is over ; who hears no more the morning 
 drum-beat or the trumpet's call : 
 
 " He sleeps his last sleep ; he has fought his last battle ; 
 No sound shall awake him to glory again." 
 
 * This was probably in the earlier part of his illness, or it 
 later, could only have been at intervals, for General Custis Lee, 
 who was constantly at his father's bedside, says that he " made 
 repeated efforts to speak to him, but could not from utter ex- 
 haustion and weakness." So it was that the wave of life kept 
 moving to and fro, sometimes being strong enough for utter- 
 ance, and then ebbing too fast for the lips to move. 
 
308 THE CHARACTER OF LEE. 
 
 While standing here, in the very presence of death, 
 I am moyed to say a few words in regard to the life that 
 ended in this tomb, and the character of the man whose 
 name it bears. As I read history, and comj^are the 
 men who have figured in the events that make history 
 — in wars and revolutions — it seems to me that Genei'al 
 Lee was not only a great soldier, but a great man, one of 
 the greatest that our country has produced. After his 
 death, the College which had hitherto borne the name of 
 "Washington, by whom it was endowed, was re christened 
 " Washington and Lee University " — a combination which 
 suggests a comparison of the two men whose names are 
 here brought together. Can we trace any likeness between 
 them ? At first it seems as if no characters, as well as no 
 careers, could be more alien to each other, than those of 
 the two great leaders, one of whom was the Founder of 
 the Government which the other did his utmost to destroy. 
 But nature brings forth her children in strange couples, 
 with resemblances in some cases as marked, and yet as 
 unexpected, as are contrasts in others. Washington and 
 Lee, though born in different centuries, were childi'en of 
 the game mother. Old Virginia, and had her best blood 
 in their veins. Descended from the stock of the English 
 Cavaliers, both were born gentlemen, and never could be 
 anything else. Both were trained in the school of war, 
 and as leaders of armies it would not be a violent assump- 
 tion to rank Lee as the equal of Washington. But it is not 
 in the two soldiers, but in the two men, that the future 
 historian will find points of resemblance. 
 
 Washington was not a brilliant man ; not a man of 
 genius, such as now and then appears to dazzle mankind ; 
 but he had what was far better than genius — a combina- 
 tion of all the qualities that win human trust ; in which 
 intelligence is so balanced by judgment, and exalted by 
 
HIS MAGNANIMITY. 309 
 
 character, as to constitute a natural superiority ; indicat- 
 ing one wlio is born to command, and to whom all men 
 turn, when their hearts are " failing them for fear," as a 
 leader. He was great not only in action, but in repose : 
 great in his very calm — in the fortitude with which he bore 
 himself through all changes of fortune, through dangers 
 and disasters, neither elated by victory nor depressed by 
 defeat — mental habitudes which many will recognize as 
 reappearing in one who seems to have formed himself 
 upon that great model. 
 
 Washington was distinguished for his magnanimity, a 
 virtue in which no one more closely followed him than Lee. 
 Men in public station are apt to be sensitive to whatever 
 concerns their standing before the world ; and so, while tak- 
 ing to themselves the credit of success, they are strongly 
 tempted to throw upon others the blame of failure. Sol- 
 diers especially are jealous of their reputation ; and if a 
 commander loses a battle, his first impulse is to cast the 
 odium of defeat upon some unfortunate officer. Some- 
 body blundered ; this or that subordinate did not do his 
 duty. Military annals are filled with these recriminations. 
 If Napoleon met with a check in his mighty plans, he had 
 no scruple in laying it to the misconduct of some lieuten- 
 ant, unless as in Russia, he could throw it upon the ele- 
 ments, the wintiy snows and the fi'ozen rivers — anything 
 to relieve himself from the imputation of the want of 
 foresight, or provision for unexpected danger. At Water- 
 loo it was not he that failed in his strategy, but Marshal 
 Ney that failed in the execution. In this respect. General 
 Lee was exactly his ojjposite. If he suffered a disaster, 
 he never sought to evade responsibility by placing it uj)on 
 others. Even in the greatest reverse of his hfe, the defeat 
 at Gettysburg, when he saw the famous charge of Pickett 
 melt away under the terrible fire that swept the field, till 
 
310 CARES LITTLE FOR FAME. 
 
 the ranks were literally torn in pieces by shot and shell, 
 he did not vent his despair in rage and reproaches, but 
 rushing to the front, took the blame upon himself, saying, 
 "It is all my fault." Perhaps no incident of his life showed 
 more the nobility of his nature. 
 
 When the war was over. General Lee had left to him at 
 Lexington about the same number of years that Napoleon 
 had at St. Helena ; and if he had had the same desire to 
 pose for posterity in the part of the illustrious exile, his 
 mountain home would have furnished as picturesque a 
 background as the rocky Island in the South Atlantic, from 
 which he could have dictated " Conversations " that should 
 fvuTiish the materials of history. He need not have written 
 or pubHshed a single line, if he had only been wiUing to 
 let others do it for him. By their pens he had oppor- 
 tunity to tell of the great part he had acted in the war, in 
 a way to make the whole chain of events contribute to his 
 fame. But he seemed to care little for fame, and indeed 
 was unmoved when others claimed the credit of his victo- 
 ries. If it be, as Pascal says, " the truest mark of a great 
 mind to be born without envy," few men in history have 
 shown more of this greatness than he. And when, as was 
 sometimes the case, old companions-in-arms reflected upon 
 him to excuse their own mistakes, he had only to lift the 
 veil from the secrets of history to confound them. But 
 under all such temptations, he was dumb. Nothing that 
 he did or said was more truly grand than the silence with 
 which he bore the misrepresentations of friend and foe. 
 This required a self-command such as Washington had not 
 to exercise at the end of his miUtary career : for he retired 
 from the scene crowned with victory, with a whole nation 
 at his feet ready to do him honor ; while Lee had to bear 
 the reproach of the final disaster — a reproach in which 
 friends sometimes joined with foes. Yet to both he 
 
now HE SEEMED TO HIS NEIGHBORS. 311 
 
 answered only with the same majestic calm, the outward 
 sign of his inward self-control. Such magnanimity belongs 
 to the very highest order of moral qualities, and shows a 
 character rai-e in any country or in any age. 
 
 This impression of the man does not grow less with 
 closer observation. With the larger number of "historical 
 characters," the greatness is magnified by distance and 
 separation. As we come nearer they dwindle in stature, 
 tiU, when we are in their very presence, and look them 
 squarely in the face, they are found to be but men hke 
 oiu'selves, and sometimes very ordinary men — with some 
 sjDCcial abihty perhaps, which gives them success in the 
 world, but who for all that are full of the selfishness which 
 is the very essence of meanness, and puffed up with a 
 paltry conceit and vanity that stamps them as little rather 
 than great. 
 
 Far different was the impression made by General Lee 
 upon those who saw him in the freedom of private inter- 
 coiurse. It might be expected that the soldiers who fought 
 under him, should speak with admiration and pride of 
 their old Commander ; but how did he appear to his 
 neighbors? Here in Lexington everybody knew him, at 
 least by sight ; they saw his manner of life from day to 
 day, in his going out and his coming in ; and to aU the 
 impression was the same : the nearer he came to them the 
 greater he seemed. Every one has some anecdote to tell 
 of him, and it is always of something that was noble and 
 lovable. Those who knew him best, loved him most and 
 revered him most. This was not a greatness that was put 
 on, like a military cloak : it was in the man, and cotdd not 
 be put on or put off ; it was the greatness which comes 
 from the very absence of pretension. 
 
 And those who came the closest to him, give us a stiU 
 further insight into his nature, by telling us that what 
 
312 FEELING FOR THE SOUTHERN PEOPLE. 
 
 struck them ino.st, was the extent of his sympathy. Sol- 
 diers are commonly supposed to be cold aud hard — a 
 temper of mind to which they are inured by their very 
 profession. Those whose business is the shedding of 
 blood, are thought to delight in human suifering. It is 
 hard to believe that a soldier can have a very tender heart. 
 Yet few men were more sensitive to others' pain than Gen- 
 eral Lee. All who came near him perceived that with his 
 manly strength, there was united an almost womanly 
 sweetness. It was this gentleness which made him great, 
 and which has enshrined him forever in the hearts of his 
 jpeople. 
 
 This sympathy for the suffering showed itself, not in 
 any public act so much as a more private and delicate 
 office which imposed uj)on him a very heavy burden — one 
 that he might have declined, but the taking of which 
 showed the man. He had an unlimited correspondence. 
 Letters poured in upon him by the hundred and the 
 thousand. They came from all joarts of the South, not 
 only from his old companions-in-arms, but fi'om those he 
 had never seen or heard of. Every mother that had lost 
 a son in the war, felt that she had the right to pour her 
 sorrow into the ear of one who was not insensible to her 
 grief. Families left in utter poverty appealed to him for 
 aid. Most men would have shrunk from a labor so great 
 as that of answering these letters. Not so General Lee. 
 He read them, not only patiently, as a man performs a 
 disagi'eeable duty, but with a tender interest, and so far as 
 was possible, retiu'ued the kindest answers. If he had 
 little money to give, he could at least give sympathy, and 
 to his old soldiers and their wives and children it was 
 more than money to know that they had a jDlace in that 
 great heart. 
 
 While thus ministering to his stricken people, there is 
 
HIS SERVICE TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY. 313 
 
 one public benefit wliich lie rendered that ought never to 
 be forgotten. Though the war was over, he stiU stood in 
 public relations in which he could render an immeasura- 
 ble service to the whole country. There are no crises in a 
 nation's life more perilous than those following civil war. 
 The peace that comes after it is peace only in name, if the 
 passions of the war still live. After our great struggle, 
 the South was fuU of inflammable materials. The fires 
 were but smouldering in ashes, and might break out at 
 any moment, and rage with destructive fury. If the spirit 
 of some had had full swing, the passions of the war would 
 have been not only perpetuated, but increased, and have 
 gone down as an inheritance of bitterness from genera- 
 tion to generation. This stormy sea of passion but one 
 man could control. He had no official position, civil or 
 military. But he was the representative of the Lost 
 Cause. He had led the Southern armies to battle, and he 
 still had the unbounded confidence of millions ; and it was 
 his attitude and his words of conciliation that did more 
 than anything else to still the angry tempest that the 
 war had left behind. A soldier in every drop of his blood, 
 he accepted the result, not with muttered imprecations on 
 his lips, but frankly and honestly, like the brave man that 
 he was ; and fi'om the hour of siirrender, acknowledged 
 it to be his place to be henceforth a true and loyal citizen 
 of the Republic. As the war had been ended in the field, 
 he held that it should be ended everywhere. And nothing 
 roused his spirit, usually so calm and self-controlled, to 
 anger so much as to hear the hisses and curses that found 
 vent in the more violent papers of the South. On one 
 occasion, after reading such ill-timed words, he said, " I 
 condemn such bitterness wholly. Is it any wonder the 
 Northern journals should retort upon us as they do, when 
 we allow ourselves to use such language ? " Even if it 
 
314 BURYING ENMITIES IN THE GRAVE. 
 
 had not been from a sense of the injustice of this violence 
 of speech, and the impohcy of reviving passion and hatred, 
 he had too much respect for himself and for his own peo- 
 ple to indulge in such recriminations. The whole South 
 felt the force of his examj)le. Even the old soldiers of 
 the Confederacy could accept what had been accepted by 
 their Leader ; the sight of their great Chieftain, so calm in 
 defeat, soothed their anger and their pride ; and as he had 
 set the example, they deemed it no unworthy sacrifice for 
 them to become loyal supporters of the restored American 
 Union. It is therefore not too much to say that it is omng 
 in gi'eat measure to General Lee that the Civil War has 
 not left a lasting division between the North and the South, 
 and that they form to-day One United Country. 
 
 These are grateful memories to be recalled now that 
 he who was so mighty in war, and so gentle in peace, has 
 passed beyond the reach of praise or blame. Do you tell 
 me he was "an enemy," and that by as much as we love 
 ovar country, we ought to hate its " enemies " ? But there 
 are no enemies among the dead. When the grave closes 
 over those with whom we have been at strife, we can drop 
 our hatreds, and judge of them without passion, and even 
 kindly, as we wish those who come after us to judge of us. 
 In a few years all the contemporaries of General Lee will 
 be dead and gone ; the great soldiers that fought with 
 him and that fought against him, will alike have passed to 
 the grave ; and then perhaps there will be a nearer ap- 
 proach of feeling between friend and foe. 
 
 "Ah, yes," say some who admit his greatness as a sol- 
 dier and leader, "if it were not for his ambition, that 
 stopped not at the ruin of his country!" Such is the 
 
 fatal accusation : ^ , ., . 
 
 " Cfesar was ambitious : 
 
 If it were so, it was a grievous fault, 
 
 And grievously hath Caesar answered it." 
 
HE PASSES INTO HISTORY. 315 
 
 But was that ambition in him which was patriotism in ns ? 
 How is it that ive who were upborne for four years by a 
 passion for our country, that stopped at no sacrifices, con- 
 not understand that other men, of the same race and 
 blood, could be inspired by the same passion for what 
 they looked upon as their country, and fight for it with 
 the same heroic devotion that we fought for ours ? They 
 as well as we were fighting for an idea : we for union, and 
 they for independence — a cause which was as sacred to 
 them as ours to us. Is it that what was patriotism on the 
 one side, was only ambition on the other ? No : it was 
 not disappointed ambition that cut short that life ; it was 
 not the humiliation of pride ; but a wound that struck 
 far deeper. One who watched by him in those long night 
 hours, tells me that he died of a broken heart ! This is 
 the most touching aspect of the great warrior's death : 
 that he did not fall on the field of battle, either in the 
 ho\u' of defeat or of victory ; but in sUent grief for suf- 
 ferings which he could not relieve. There is something 
 infinitely pathetic in the way that he entered into the con- 
 dition of a whole people, and gave his last strength to 
 comfoi-t those who were fallen and cast down. It was this 
 constant strain of hand and brain and heart that finally 
 snapped the strings of life ; so that the last view of him 
 as he passes out of oiu' sight, is one of unspeakable sad- 
 ness. The dignity is preserved, but it is the dignity of 
 woe. It is the same tall and stately form, yet not wearing 
 the robes of a conqueror, but bowed with sorrows not his 
 own. In this mournful majesty, silent with a grief beyond 
 words, this gi-eat figure passes into history. 
 
 There we leave him to the judgment of another gene- 
 ration, that "standing afar off" may see some things more 
 clearly than we. "When the historian of future ages comes 
 to write the History of the Great Kepublic, he will give 
 
316 ONLY A NAME ! 
 
 the first place to that War of the Revolution by which our 
 country gained its independence, and took its place among 
 the nations of the earth ; and the second to the late Civil 
 War, which, begun for separation, ended in a closer and 
 consolidated Union. That was the last act in the great 
 drama of our nation's life, in which history cannot forget 
 the part that was borne by him whose silent form lies 
 within this sepulchre. 
 
 Only a name! As I took a last look at the recumbent 
 statue, I observed that its marble base bore no epitaph ; 
 no words of praise were carved upon the stone : only 
 above it on the wall was the name, 
 
 KOBEET EDWAKD LEE, 
 with the two dates, 
 
 BoEN January 19, 1807; 
 Died October 12, 1870. 
 
 That is all : but it is enough ; any eulogy would but 
 detract from the spell of that single name : 
 
 " One of the few, the immortal names, 
 That were not born to die." 
 
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