YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

mu Whxu Mm Wat-i00R

The Color Chiard; being a Corporal's Notes of
Military Service in the Nineteenth Army Corps. By Rev.
J. K. HosMEE, who volunteered as Private in the Fifty-second
Massachusetts, and went through the campaign. 12mo. $1.25.
It is undoubtedly the most piquant and readable sketch ever made_ of •
the interior life of a great army in active service^ and made from the i/rnnde,
by a hand entirely competent.
" His story," says the Daily Adoertiser, " is written in a delightfully
graphic epistolary style, and is really one of the most sterling books that
the war has called into existence. It will be read with great interest by
soldiers everywhere, and by civilians with equal interest. It forms the
counterpart of Dana's ' Two Years before the Mast,' and ought to become
as popular." Everybody should send a copy to some soldier in camp or hospital.
No gift can be more acceptable.
The Whip, JEToe, and Sword; or, The Gulf
Department in '63. By Rev. Geo. H. Hepwoeth. 12mo. $1.26.
Mr. Hepwokth went out to New Orleans as Chaplain of the 47th
Massachusetts, but was subsequently commissioned by General Banks as
First Lieutenant in the Fourth Lonisiana Native Guards (colored). He was
detailed to superintend the plantations ; and this volume is the result of his
experience more particularly in that department of dnty. It throw's a flood
of light upon the vexed question of paid labor upon "the plantations, and
abounds with interesting facts, anecdotes, and sketches of Southern life and
character. Chaplain Fuller ; being a Life-Sketch of a New-
England Clergyman and an Army Chaplain, 12mo. Portrait.
Price $1.25.
This volume has a wide interest from the graphic picture of Camp and
Field Life which it presents, and the vast amount of important informa
tion on the subject of the conduct and progress of the war not elsewhere
obtainable. The narrative of the remarhihle duel between the Merrimack and the
Monitor is the only full account in print from the pen of an actual eye
witness of the whole affair.
The New - York Tribume devotes three and a half columns to a favorable
review of the book. ,
The Methodist pronounces Mr. Fuller "a modeParmy chaplain," and
adds, " He was one whose qualities it is good to commemorate ; who in his
home and public life afforded constant examples of genial virtue and of ear
nest piety well worthy of the imitation of young Americans. The biogra
phy of a such a man is always a desirable gift to the reading public."

|^° All these Books sent feee by mail on receipt of the price.
WALKER, WISE, & CO.,
245, Wafihington Street, Boston

THE

WHIP, HOE, AND SWORD;

THE GULF-DEPAETMENT IN '63.

BY

GEORGE H.'hEPWORTH.

**This is all true as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times true ; for truth, is truth
To the end of reckoniug."

fiHAESFEAHE.

BOSTON:
WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY,
245, Washington Street.
1864.

t-jo.. 1.^

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G3. ty
WALKER, WISE, AXD COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

Lci^^ >3^

SECOND EDITION.

eTFJlEOTTPED AND FEINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON,
No. o. Water Street.

MEMBERS OF THE CHURCH OF THE UNITY,
>Vl!OSE "GOD SPEED" G.VVE HIM STKEKGTH IX AU. THE BXPERI-
ENCrS riEKEIN RELATED,
3r!)is l^umiiU Wlmk Is iSeepecifuIIs BeUicsUD
BV THEIR PA8TOB.

PREFACE

Mt book was written con amore, and in the midst
of the scenes described. I never journeyed with
out my note-book and pencil, and was careful to
record conversations as soon as possible ''after their
occurrence. I was with our forces when they marched
through the TSche, and when they were before
Port Hudson. I have seen our boys under all
possible circumstances, — in the camp, on the
march, in the field, and in the hospital ; and I
believe that the world never saw an army its equal
in culture, fortitude, and patriotism. There never
has been a time in our history, when to be an
American citizen or an American soldier could be
reckoned so great a privilege as it is to-day.

Vl PREFACE.
If I talk a great deal of slavery, it is because I
have seen a great deal of it. If I say no good
thing of it, it is because I found no good thing in
it. I learned to pity the slaveholder and the slave,
and to thank God and the genius of the age for
the Proclamation.
I have to express my warmest gratitude to Gen.
Banks, who kindly allowed me every privilege in
my work of investigation, and to whom we are
indebted for the successful operation of the free-
labor system in the Gulf Department. Let all
honor be given to an honorable man.
As my people said to me when I left them, so
say I to my book, " God speed .you 1 "

Boston, November, 1863.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
PAGE
GooD-BY FOR A Year  9
XL
Planters and Plantations  24
HL
Louisianians  * . . 85
TV.
The Negro  125
V.
Chakactees  195
VI.
On the March  246

THE WHIP, HOE, AND SWORD,

CHAPTER I.
GOOD-BY FOE A TEAB.
FROM the very first, I desired to go to the war.
I felt that no man has any right to look about
him for an excuse to stay at home. If blessed
with good health, his first duty is to his country ;
for, without his country's benignant laws and insti
tutions, he is worth just nothing.
When I looked upon those who had put on the
harness, I wanted nothing so much as to go with
them ; and, when I looked about me on those who
remained at home, my desire to go grew apace.
I had often revelled in the rich scenes of the
last century, when a lifetime seemed so much ;
when one generation held in its hands the fate of
many ages ; and when manly men were building
the future, as we build a temple. Those were glo
rious days, and days in which it was a sublime
privilege to live. The rusty sword of the humblest
farmer was as much needed as the bright Damas-
1

10 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAR.
cus blade of the leader. Every strong-limbed man
and every tender-hearted woman contributed to
that aggregate force which founded a new empire.
" Will those days ever come again?" I asked my
self each time I laid the record on its shelf.
Then came through our New-England homes the
invigorating reverbations from Sumter. The
trump et-tongued cannon seemed to thunder forth
the prophecy of a new life. The church-bells
joined in the chorus ; and pulpit and rostrum sent
out their cry, "To arms for Freedom 1 " and told
us that the days of chivalry were at hand, and that
every willing knight was needed for the contest.
It mattered not that I was the humblest disciple
of one who came to still the troubled waters^ and
to bring peace upon earth. The day had not yet
come when it would be quite safe to give up the
sword for a pruning-hook : on the contrary, our
chief duty seemed to be to change aU pruning-
hooks into swords.
So I said to my people, " I can stay no longer ; "
and they kindly answered, " Go, and God speed
you ! "
On the sabbath morning when I reached the top
of the hill that overlooked our camp, the bells
began to ring, summoning the villagers to. the
house of God. It seemed to me that they had a
voice, which said, —

GOOD-BY FOB A YEAR. 11
" Chaplain, the work before you is hard, but_
grand. A thousand mothers, wives, and daughters
have given those they dearly love for their coun
try. A thousand homes will support your arms,
while a thousand altar-fires will burn low for nine
long months ; and many, alas ! will never be kindled
into their wonted brilliancy, because there is war,
bloody war, in the land. Look to your duty. Pray
for the boy, who, until now, has never known temp
tation ; warn the husband and the father who is
walking, as fast as he can, in the road that leads to
moral death, and who will bring back to his family,
at the end of his term of service, a poisoned mind
and heart ; and when the dark day lowers, and the
air is thick with battle-smoke, speak, with the Mas
ter's authority, the ' Peace, be still ! ' to those who
have fallen ; and open, with the hand of friendship
and of prayer, the door of heaven, that they may
enter to receive their reward."
AU this the many-toned village church-bells rang
out ; and I trembled as I remembered that all I
could ofier to my country were willing hands and
a willing heart.
We started from Readville at ten minutes past
one, P.M. I need not repeat that it was on Sun
day ; for, as a general thing, our battles have been
fought and our movements made on that day. We
tried to effect a delay until Monday; but our orders

12 GOOD-BY FOB A YEAR.
were peremptory, and nothing was left but obe
dience. Indeed, so imperative were the commands
from headquarters, that we made all despatch,
under the impression that our services woTild be
required immediately. We had not then been
initiated into the jocular ways of Government offi- "
eials ; we did not know that these same officials,
who are receiving large salaries, with which they
are enabled to .exhibit the profundity of their
ignorance, oftentimes please themselves by getting
our troops into the most delightful snarls, and then
allowing them to find their own way out. We
were one of the victims of this most fashionable
recreation. Hurrying forward with all speed,
eager to do our work in the fray, we reached Gro-
ton Junction, filed out of the cars, and stood on
the wharf, ready to embark on the " Commodore."
We strained our eyes with looking, knowing we
were needed in New York at once ; but no vessel
appeared. An hour passed, and another, and still
another, till five mortal hours sped on their way ;
when the steamer rounded leisurely up to the
wharf. We reached New York on Monday morn
ing, and our colonel at once reported at headquar
ters. To our chagrin, the officers of our good
Uncle Sam were greatly surprised to see us.
" Did you not distinctly and imperatively order
us to start at once ? "

GOOD-BY FOE A YEAR. 13
" Certainly ; but is that any reason why you
should do so ? "
It was very much like the invitation to dinner
which the Chinaman extended to his friend : the
friend did not know enough to refuse, and so gave
offence to the polite celestial. We were thus let
into one of many secrets. We learned, that when
Government telegraphs in seemingly great haste,
commanding a regiment to move at once, it is only
because it is in good-humor, and enjoys a joke.
You may hurry as much as you will ; you may
leave behind many necessary articles which you
hoped to carry with you ; you may even infuse a
good spirit into your men by an exciting and pa
triotic speech ; you may stir them, so that they will
give cheer after cheer for the good old flag, and,
without knowing it, come to the " Charge bayo
net!" yet, after all, this whole experience is to
be reckoned among the delusions of war. You
.will probably lie in barracks for weeks, and not
hear the slightest intimation that Government
needs you, or even knows of your- existence.
On Sunday, the 21st of December, we embarked
on the "Mississippi," bound to sea with sealed
orders. We were not allowed to open the let
ter which gave us our destination until we had
steamed due ¦ south twenty-four hours. We all
were hopeful and happy as the head of the vessel

14 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAE.
swung round in the Narrows ; and we started on
Qur journey, our hearts keeping time with the
" Hail, Columbia 1 " of our band. The sun set glo
riously that afternoon, just as we lost sight of the
great busy city which held many who were very
dear to us ; and as we looked forward to the wide
expanse that lay stretched before us, smooth as a
western prairie, I, for the first time, really felt that
I had turned my face from my home.
The next morning, the breakfast-table was not
quite full. There was many a " vacant chair," and
many a lugubrious face. Neptune must be a very
queer individual ; for one no sooner looks upon him
than he is attacked with strange sensations, which
seem to have no local habitation, but, Gypsy-like,
wander all over the body from head to foot. The
patient at once loses all esteem of himself, is robbed
of all elasticity, and sinks on his couch, or on any
place that is handy ; entertaining the most extreme
disgust for the world, and for every particular
individual in it. The disease is attended with
great self-reproach ; the patient wondering that he
could ever have been induced to trust himself in
any thing so unstable as a ship ; and inwardly vow
ing, that if he is permitted to get on land, even
though it be a piece only large enough to stand
upon, he will never again trust himself to be rocked
in the cradle of the deep.

GOOD-BY FOR A YEAR. 15
The second day we passed Hatteras, and the sea
was as smooth as any landsman could desire. The
winds remembered that we were all Union boys,
and refused to tempt the ocean's anger. So we
sped on our way, each hour bringing us into
warmer weather, until, on the fourth day, we
caught sight of the Bahamas. After that, the tem
perature was so inviting, that I took my blanket
every night, and made a bed for myself on the
deck. On the fifth day, we passed the Florida
Keys. These islands, as well as the Bahamas, are
only sand-plains, heaped about nuclei of coral ; and
so low, that one can hardly see them until he comes
within four or five miles of them.
We were fortunate enough to have moonlight
nights during our whole passage ; and it was my
delight to sit on the rail of the quarter-deck, and
watch the white, sparkling river of foam in which
we seemed to be floating. The full moon gave it
the appearance of snow, while its own phosphores
cence seemed to stud it with brilliant stars. You
can hardly imagine any thing more beautiful, — all
around you, the smooth black waters of the Gulf;
just behind you, and stretching back for a hundred
feet or more, a rumbling, tumbling snow-drift, filled
with sparkling gems. It was so fascinating, that
I used to sit till far into the night, watching its
endless changes. Once, I remember, the dolphins

16 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAE.
played for a while about our ship ; and, while they
flew along the surface, their back fins cut through
the water with such rapidity, that they left a slen
der line of phosphorescent snow behind them. It
seemed to me like a silver line of poetry written
on the dark page of the ocean.
We had a delightful time in the Gulf; for all our
sea-sickness was gone, and every thing about us
was pleasant to behold. We reached Ship Island
in seven days and a half; and, having cast anchor,
learned that we were to stay just thirty minutes,
and then start for New Orleans. The island is a
dreary place ; only a huge sand-bank, at one end of
which is a pond of brackish water filled with alli
gators; and, at the other end, the beginning of
what may, some time, be an impregnable fort. I
think, that, even now, no land force could take the
work : for, except immediately after a heavy rain,
one sinks more than ankle-deep in sand ; and, when
there is a heavy wind, the hillocks actually change
their positions, — the process of emigration filling
the air with gritty particles enough to give the
whole world the ophthalmia. I have often thought
that the topography of the island must be very
puzzling to a systematic man. He may labor dur
ing the day, and at nightfall every elevation shall
be correctly positioned. When the night comes,
bringing a strong south-easter, he sleeps with his

GOOD-BY FOR A YEAE. 17
maps under his head for security. In the morning,
he emerges from his tent, and alternately views his
map and the landscape. Some prestidigitateur has
been at work. None of the hillocks are where they
ought to be. Like an army, they only bivouacked
where he found them ; since which time, they have
seen fit to " change their base." Ship Island is a
grand place for one who is disgusted with the
world, but a very disagreeable place for one who
has any desire to enjoy himself.
' We started at four, 'p.m. ; and anchored just off
the Bar, in the " Father of Waters," some time the
next evening. I was glad of this ; for it gave me
an opportunity to see the plantations on each side
of the river, of which I had heard so much.
Early in the morning, we entered the South- •
west Pass, crossed the Bar, and passed the sunken
wreck of the fire-boat which the rebels had set
adrift, in hopes thereby to fire Parragut's fleet. It
ended its ignoble career as it should; finding a
grave in Mississippi mud.
The river presented no* objects of interest for '
many miles; indeed, not until we reached the
Forts St.'Philip and Jackson. Jackson is the prin
cipal work, situated on the right bank of the river,
and almost immediately opposite Fort St. Philip.
We. saw nothing to remind us of the struggle which
gave us New Orleans, except a gunboat or two

18 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAE.
destroyed during the fight, and driven as high as
possible on the bank of the river. Yet, said they
who saw the fight, it was a terrible contest. The
rebels were fresh, eager for the fray, and reckless
in their daring. They believed themselves secure
against any attack of the Federals. They had
strengthened their fortifications in every possible
way, and had mounted guns which have since been
proved excellent. A picket-gjiard had been sta
tioned a couple of miles below to signal the first
approach of the enemy. They could commence
to fire at our boats when over two miles distant.
Besides all this, they had three immense iron
cables stretched across the river, to which was
attached a bridge ; so that communication between
the two forts was complete. If our fleet should
succeed in getting opposite the fort, this impedi
ment would bar its further progress ; and, before it
could get out of range again, it would be utterly
destroyed. But —
" The best-laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley."
Our fleet-commander was aware of the existence
of this chain, and destroyed it in a very neat way.
The water runs, at this point, about three miles an
hour. This tremendous pressure brought a great
strain against the iron; and, when the floating-
bridge was attached, the current pressed against

GOOD-BY FOE A YEAE. 19
the immense amount of woodwork, and strained
the cable to its utmost. Our cpmmander, knowing
this, sent one of his fleetest' boats — a boat with
an iron prow, and sharp — to stem the current at
its utmost speed, and strike the cable in the centre
of the river, where the pressure was greatest.
The experiment was remarkably successful. The
boat hit the chain in just the right place, and it
parted as if by magic 5 one half the bridge floating
to the east side of the river, and the other half to
the west side. I have often, when a boy, bent a
young tree, half as thick as my arm, almost to the
ground, and then, striking it on the upper side where
the strain was greatest, cut it completely through
with the quick blow of a hatchet. It was in the
same way that the great chain was broken.
The fleet of the Union came up the river slowly,
— - feeling its way along, fearing some infernal ma
chine, — and nothing was heard on that calm but
dark night save the striking of their paddles in
the water. The decks were filled with men, who
expected to pay a heavy price for the victory, and
who were willing to give their lives. The pilot.
Porter, knew every shoal, every bend, every snag.
If anybody could take our fleet by those forts,
Porter was the man. I have thought, what an
hour of intense excitement that must have been on
both sides ! The rebels did not believe that our

20 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAE.
men would attempt such a hopeless task, yet kept
on the alert ; and, on that night, trained ears were
listening to catch the sound of paddle-wheels, and
trained eyes were peering through the darkness.
Nobody saw the glorious stars and stripes which
were floating to the breeze from the mast-head of
eyery gunboat. Nobody saw the stars and bars
which were polluting the air above the forts.
Soon, however, the terrific conflict between right
and wrong began. Our leading gunboats could not
have been much more than half a mile distant from
the fort, when the battle opened by iron hail from
the rebel guns. Our boats did not answer for a
while, but kept steadily on, hugging the farther
shore. When, however, they were direcjtly oppo
site Fort St. Philip, their voices were heard ; and
they poured upon the rebels a rain which they
were not prepared for. Still we kept right on;
the object being to get by the forts.
What a picture for the historian to draw I The
night was so dark, that the rebels could see to fire,
only by the flashes from our guns, or perchance by
the grim blackness of our gunboats, seen against
the lighter background of sky.
I need not say, that our entire fleet got by the
forts ; and that that night's work opened for us
the mouth of the Mississippi, and gave us New
Orleans.

GOOD-BY FOB A YEAE. 21
As we turned bend after bend in the river, our
eyes — alas ! it was only our eyes — were greeted
by orange-groves laden with their luscious fruit.
All on board played the part of Tantalus : for we
thirsted for the delicious drink contained in the
yellow spheres ; and it was almost, but not quite,
within our reach.
The Mississippi is indeed a mighty and marvel
lous river. When it rises in the spring, rolling its
lordly and muddy flood with the impetuosity of a
smaller stream, the planters look carefully to their
levees; for their land, and all their houses, are
from five to eight feet below the boiling surface of
the water : and when, in the summer, it falls, they
must again be vigilant ; for it often happens, that
the swift current digs out the side of the bank
under the levee ; so that, when the water falls, an
acre or two will cave in. The river wiU some-
tiines rob one planter of twenty acres by compell
ing him to. place his levee two hundred feet back
from the bank, and give another planter twenty
acres by changing its channel. The Father of
Waters is very capricious.
The river at New Orleans rises in the spring i
thirteen feet from its ordinary level ; at Baton
Rouge, it rises about twenty-seven feet ; and, at
the month of the Ohio, some fifty or sixty feet.
The floods at the Yellow Stone make no percepti-

22 GOOD-BY FOE A YEAR.
ble change in the river at New Orleans for thirty
days after their commencement. ,
There is one shell-fish which seems to be work
ing in the way of Providence and the Union
so zealously, that he deserves a passing notice.
The fiddler resembles a crab, though he is much
smaller. He seems to be impressed with the fact,
that men have no right to limit the river, by means
of levees, to the narrow space between its banks;
and, further, that it can help the Federals in over
coming the rebels who live near it. Thus im
pressed, it works steadily, night and day, boring
holes through the Levee. I have seen a levee
completely honeycombed by these creatures.
They are to be counted by millions ; and will dig
through an earthwork ten, and even fifteen, feet in
thickness. Half the disasters along tte river are
to be attributed to these little creatures. Verily,
the planters are being well punished; for they fear
nothing so much as these Union, fiddlers.
None of the whites greeted us with a single
cheer on our entire river-passage. They only
deigned to thrust their hands as deeply as possible
into their pockets, and gaze sullenly at us. Why
should they be glad to see us ? Is the thief, who
has stolen goods in his possession, desirous of an
intimacy with the sturdy policeman who is on^his
track ? They are the veriest cowards of the

GOOD-BY FOR A YEAE. 23
South ; men, or rather things in men's clothes,
who are too careful of their precious lives to
go into the Confederate Army ; and so lounge
about at home, taking the oath of allegiance with
lying lips, and spitting at Union soldiers behind
their backs.
The blacks alone welcomed us with vociferous
shouts and frantic gestures. Whether they knew
the deep significance of the day, — the 1st of Ja
nuary, — or not, I cannot say. They gathered, in
little companies of ten or twenty, on the bank of
the river, and in front of their masters' dwellings ;
and, as we went by, greeted us with peals of
laughter, and cheers for the " Northerners."
That night, we anchored just opposite the lower
end of the city. The next morning, we reported
at headquarters, were very kindly received by
Gen. Banks, and ordered to proceed at once to
CarroUton, some fourteen miles up the river ;
which place we reached in due time.

24 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.

CHAPTER n.
PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
WHEN I first went to the St. Charles to pay
my respects to Gen. Banks, he was kind
enough to say that he would be glad to help me
in any way I might suggest ; and that I might
call upon him at any future time, and remind him
of his promise. I kept these words in my heart ;
for I had already begun to feel that my chaplaincy
tended to confine rather than give ample scope to
my desire for work.
We had been in CarroUton but a few days, when
the glad tidings came, " To the front ! " but, the
very next day, some good excuse was discovered
for disobedience ; and we immediately began to
take root where we were. I afterwards heard, on
good authority, that the order had been repeated,
and that a second time an excuse had been found.
The boys of the regiment were aU 'earnestly sorry.
They left their friends with the expectation of
doing their part in the general bayonet-exercise;
and were loud in their complaints when it was
discovered that the colors were to be as fresh and

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 25
bright at the end of the nine months as at the
beginning. The staff-officers were so unanimous
in their disapproval of such a "peace policy,"
that, in a few weeks, not one was left. Each had
succeeded in getting detached, and sent from the
city on special duty.
The truth is, there are some old women in the
army. A pity it is that they cannot be convinced
of, their sex 1
The moment I saw the actual position of affairs, ,
and had fully assured myself of the direction
which the current of our fortunes was to take, I
went to Gen. Banks, and reminded him of his pro
mise. He agreed to give me a commission as first
lieutenant in the Fourth Louisiana Native Guards,
and thence detail me as aide-de-camp. This very
kind offer I at once accepted, because it would
give me an honorable position, and afford me ample
opportunity to choose my own fields of labor.
Just at that time, the negro question was pressed
with unusual force upon our attention. Large
numbers of blacks were crowding within our lines,
and Government was issuing to each person about
three-quarters of a ration per day. The children
were dying in frightful numbers ; and the general
mortality was such, that the whole subject de
manded immediate attention. These people were
living in the most unhealthy localities, and, without
2

26 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
doubt, in the most immoral way. They found no
work, and were really in a very pitiable condition.
The best thing to do was to enlist all the able-
bodied men, confiscate every plantation in the
department, and, dividing land up into twenty-acre
lots, give each black family one such lot, and let
them try the experiment of free labor for them
selves. They had earned it by the faithful labor
of three generations ; and their masters deserved
such punishment for being found in armed rebel
lion against the United-States Government. But
it is not always possible to do the best thing ; and,
in the present case, no such Spartan justice could
be dealt to our white enemies and black friends.
The enlistment of blacks had at that time almost
entirely ceased. What caused the calm, I do not
know. We were not equal to so grand a measure.
We needed that the vast tide of death should roU
by our own doors, and sweep away our fathers
and sons, before we could come to our senses, and
give the black the one boon he has been asking for
so long, — permission to fight for our common
country, and against his oppressors and our ene
mies.
, There can, therefore, be no question in the mind
of any thinking man, that it was far better to
induce these negroes to return to their homes, and
get in a crop for the coming season, than to allow

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 27
them to live on the Government rations, and do
nothing but contract vicious habits by reason of
proximity to our camps. These were the very
strong reasons that urged me to undertake the
work of putting the labor system into opera
tion. I did not wholly like the agreement between the ¦
Government and the planters. I never believed in
the permission which was given to the latter to
raise a cane-crop. They did not deserve to have
their interests consulted in this matter. The
whole plan was devised and executed for the well-
being of the negro alone. So long as the planter
holds any legal rights in the slave, he will be the
enemy of the Government; and his rights, so called,
are not to be thought of for a single moment. I
regretted, therefore, that a spear of cane was
allowed to show itself above the ground. I would
have had nothing but a crop of com and vegeta
bles, — products which will not find their way into
the pockets of our foes, but into the stomachs of
our friends. StiU this could not be urged, forsooth,
because our o"^r-careful President was desirous to
conciliate. There had been harsh measures enough
in this department; and since Butler had stroked
the cat from tail to head, and found her full of
yawl and scratch, it was determined to stroke her
from head to tail, and see if she would not hide

28 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
her claws, and commence to purr. So the planter
was touched very tenderly, if he was touched at
aU. The labor system was weU enough in its concep
tion. The central idea was just and humane. It
required, however, to be carefully watched, lest
the overseers of plantations should get back to
their old tricks with the whip, and lest the planters
themselves should fail to give their hands proper
food and clothing. The plan would undoubtedly
work well, provided this vigilance was active ; and
provided, again, that, in case of a flagrant misde
meanor of this kind, the offender should be visited
with condign punishment, and the plantation
stripped of every thing, as a reminder that the
old times have gone by, and the new times have
come. In other words, it would be successful, if
the planters were made aware that the labor sys
tem and slavery are two very different things, and
not synonymous.
The worth of the plan has been practically illus
trated. The great majority of the negroes have
been rendered comparatively happy aiid contented.
They have homes. They do not work during the
hottest part of the day. They have their families
about them, and are higher in the social scale, and
more independent and more cheerful, than they
have ever been before. They know that they are

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 29
no longer chattels. They are very rapidly learn
ing their own power and worth. In every contest
between the master and his slaves, the latter inva^-
riably win the day. They have a mine of strategy,
to which the planter sooner or later yields. For
instance : A few days ago, a gentleman below the
city hired a new overseer, one who was obnoxious
to the hands on account of his reputation. He was
in the habit of wielding the whip pretty freely, and
of using abusive language to the negro women.
On the morning wheTn he arrived to enter on his
duties, a delegation from the ¦ field-hands waited
upon the proprietor, and very respectfully stated
their objections against the new-comer. When
they had finished, the master indulged in some
very strong language, — forgetting that times had
somewhat changed, — and bade them go about their
business, telling them that he would hire whom
soever he chose to be overseer. They remonstrated
still further, saying that the hands could not work
under such a man, but that they would work cheer
fully under any one else. He dismissed them with
an oath. The matter, however, did not end there.
The delegation at once went to their cabins, packed
up their little bundles, and started on the road to
Fort Jackson. They knew, that, once there, they
could get employment. They had not gone far,
however, before the master came to his senses.

30 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
He was no longer the owner of mere chattels.
Some change had come 'over slavery ; and he was
surprised to find that those whom he had so often
stigmatized as "things," and counted at so much
" per head " as he did his cows and hogs, were
growing very rapidly into the likeness of men,
" who know their rights, and, knowing, dare main
tain," He called them all back ; told them they
should have any overseer they wanted : upon which
they unpacked their bundles, and went quietly to
the field, as if nothing had happened.
At Berwick's Bay there is no labor system, and
the negroes are in a most deplorable condition.
Six thousand came from the plantations between
the bay and Alexandria ; and are living in such a
way, that the mortality during the summer will be
most terrible. The able-bodied men have enlisted.
The old, the young, and the women are living in
little huts, with nothing to do, with no comforts
when they are ill, and with more than a fair pro
spect of a speedy death before them. They are
free ; but, alas ! freedom only means the power to
die. Their proper place, indeed the only place
where they can learn the meaning and the privi
leges of freedom, is on the plantation, as hired
hands.. Then, if one or two or a thousand are able
to do something better than dig corn, they ought to
have perfect liberty to try their pluck and their

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 31
luck in the city. In this way, there will be a home
to start from ; a home where the wife and children
earn their daily bread, while the sturdy father is
working his way in the great world up to a dollar
a day. But this taking the negroes from the plan
tations where they can and should be protected,
and huddling them together where they must
starve and die, proves the worth of the labor sys
tem, when carried out in the right spirit.
I was very much gratified to have the general
superintendence of this experiment ; for it gave me
an opportunity to visit all the plantations in the
department, and afforded me an insight into South
ern life. I entered upon the work at once, and
with alacrity. I visited nearly every important
place from Baton Rouge to Fort Jackson. I saw
planters in their best and in their worst moods :
when they were glum ; when they wanted to be
impudent, and, not quite daring to be so for fear of
consequences, set their wives on me, — from whose
tongues I invariably beat as hasty a retreat as pos
sible ; and when they were in good humor, and
ready to give me any data I desired.
Here the remembrance of my sufferings from
the climate of the . lower part of the State comes
up so vividly, that I must be allowed to make a
digression in order to describe it. Of all things
horrible, most horrible, this is certainly the worst.

32 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
To say it is unhealthy, is to be very complimentary.
The soil of the country is made up of vegetable
matter, which is yet in the process of decomposi
tion. Dig down three feet, and you come to
water. In twenty-four hours, that water exhales
a most nauseous odor, which no one can take into
his lungs wdth impunity. If you sleep out of
doors, no matter what precautions you may take,
you will be sure to succumb to an attack of chills,
which will rack your system, and make you hollow-
eyed and hollow-cheeked in a few days. If you
get sick with fever, the chances are that you will
not get well. Physicians tell me that medicines
fail here which have never been known. to fail at
the North. There is nothing vitalizing in the
air. A man comes to this country with his vital
mercury at eighty. In a little while, he catches
cold, and the mercury sinks to sixty. Slowly,
slowly, it moves upward ; but it always stops
somewhere among the seventies. It wiU not get
up to the full eighty again ; and, every time he
is ill, the less chance there is of his getting weU.
There is no place on the river, south of Baton
Rouge, where one can live the exposed life of the
soldier with impunity. The most rugged systems
yield by degrees to the fatal miasm with which the
night air is laden ; and boys, who in Maine, two
years ago, cut, split, and piled their two cords of

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 33
wood a day, go regularly at surgeon's call to get
their five grains of quinine.
Indeed, none of the lower part of the State has
yet reached that geological age in which the soil is
fit for the residence of man. Had it been let
alone for a couple of centuries, the many thou
sands of tons of sediment which the river daily
brings from the North, and which it is now com
pelled to deposit at the passes, — every year thrust
ing the land out into the sea some two hundred
feet, — would have been spread by the kindly hand
of Nature over the whole area of Lower Louisiana,
and the State would by this time have attained an
average • elevation of six feet above its present
mosqnito and alligator level.
The proper hint to civilizers was given by De
Soto, who struck north-west from Mobile, and
landed somewhere near the mouth of the Red
River. But Cavalier de la SaUe, in 1682, paddled
up the river from its mouth ; and when the Iro
quois met in solemn conclave to determine whether
permission should be given to the white man to
settle, and their chief Mansoria had decided in the
negative, he appeared in person before the grave
council, and used such eloquent and persuasive
words, that the voice of the chief was drowned,
and the fatal permission obtained. It was indeed a
grave privilege which the red man yielded to the

34 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
whites. The vast chemical processes were inter
fered with ; and to-day, instead of having a terri
tory finished by Nature, with her signature on it,
" It is good for the habitation of man," we have
a country in which man insists upon living, but
which is fit only as a home for the alligator and the
snake. To a stranger, this language may seem extrava
gant ; but, to one who has lived in these parts, it is
exceedingly moderate. Take a stroll some fine day
from the planter's house, along the road leading to
the woods. The air is filled with a universal hum.
It is the singing of the mosquitoes, who come in
dense clouds, and sometimes in such countless
numbers, that even the mules, though covered from
ears to tail with bagging, refuse to work, and the
horses are literally sprinkled with blood. But be
careful how you walk ; for there lies across your
path that prototype of some Northern politicians,
the copperhead ! And be careful again ; for I
hear the warning rattle of the only chivalrous
snake in the woods 1 And, now that you have
reached the sluggish bayou, you notice at a glance
a dozen square-built, roof-Uke heads moving slowly
on the surface of the water. These uncouth, un
gainly creatures, who disport themselves regardless
of your presence, seem to be the representatives of
a distant geological period.

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 35
The overhanging woods, the taU, broad, live-oak,
and the forlorn - looking, spire -like cypress, are
covered with aerial moss, which clings to all the
branches, and hangs gracefully down for six or
eight feet. As you look at the picture, remember
ing the nature of the soil under your feet, and
looking round on the tall, rank grass covering the
prairie, you are surprised at your own presence in
such a scene. It belongs, not to the present, but
to the distant past.
It must not be forgotten, that I am now speaking
of Lower Louisiana. The scenery from Baton
Rouge northward is very fine. The ground is
undulating, the air is pure, the reptiles and vermin
are less numerous, and the country is more healthy ;
but our soldiers have been stationed on the lower
coasts of the river, and have contracted all manner
of diseases from the fatal climate.
I was gratified that my position gave me an op
portunity to look into the social life of the South,
and compare it with that of the North. I have
always had an awe of what has been termed the
" chivalry and high breeding of the South." I
early fell into the popular ruts ; and when A. H.
Stephens said, as a matter of course, that the new
Confederacy was to be made up of the Slite of the
world, I was ready to admit, that in open-handed
generosity, and a certain social polish, the sun did

36 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
operate in different ways upon those south and
north of Mason and Dixon's line. But I had not
travelled far, before this matter and its philosophy
were made plain. I saw at once where all this
balderdash came from, and only laughed at myself
for my folly in being duped so long. There are, in
the South, a certain number of families who boast a
well-to-do ancestry. Theiy are, in pecuniary mat
ters, far above want. They are proud, as they
have a right to be, of their grandfathers ; and
they cultivate the fine arts, and bear themselves
with the dignity becoming a good position. This
society of exclusives is, however, small. It is
everywhere small. But the aristocratic institu
tions of the country make these few families the
apex of the historic and social cone, always promi
nent, and a sort " of beacon-light by which all the
rest of society is governed. Now, in the North, We
have just as many families who are well-to-do in
the world, and whose grandfathers were very
respectable personages. They also cultivate the
fine arts, and are distinguished everywhere by
their gentlemanly bearing. They travel, visit the
worthiest celebrities of Europe, bring home a re
fined polish of manner, and a certain ease, which
mark the gentleman everywhere. But these first
families are not necessarily prominent marks, when
you look at our social life ; because the whole struc-

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 37
ture of our society is democratic. They do not
openly lead society ; for all about them is a hurry
and a bustle, in which their presence is wholly
forgotten. Ask a Louisianian who are the best
families of the State, and he will instantly put his
right fore-finger on his left fore-finger, and begin
with number one. Ask a man from the Bay State
the same question, and he will tell you he does not
know, and does not care. The two answers are
entirely characteristic.
This boast of ancestry is all very well in its way;
but when one's neck is constantly crooked over his
shoulder, and one's lips are ever recounting the
brave deeds of another, it suggests unpleasant
•reflections concerning the imbecility of the present
representative of the family. If one can do no
thing himself, it is well enough for him to spend
his time studying the biography of his ancestors.
And yet I confess to a sort of disagreeable feeling
as I enter a house pervaded with this musty atmo
sphere. It takes my breath away : and, as I look
up at the dingy old portrait of him in the big bag
wig, — the sturdy old root from which has grown
these many genealogical shoots, — I feel a certain
awkwardness ; for it always seems to look down on
me with hard eyes, and as though it would say,
" Young man, your grandfather was nothing but an
honest Yorkshire mechanic ; and, while he was ply-

38 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
ing his trade, I was on the high seas, the captain
of an ' Alabama.' " And then the dingy old portrait
seems to hang against the wall more stiffly than
ever. However, I have never allowed these reflec
tions to interfere with my duty ; and I have never
found among the grandchildren of these great ones
any thing to remind me that they were more than
common dust. It is certainly one of the pleasantest
and most prophetic characteristics of the true re
publican, — and I claim the right to be known as
such, — that he is taught never to stand in the
sha(Jow of his father's doings, but to step boldly
out into the world, and grow to such manly propor
tions, that he also may cast a shadow forward upon
the future. The real American never says, " My
father did that : " he puts his hands on some fair
achievement, and says, " I did that with my own
brown hands and my own tough brain."
Now, leaving these few privileged ones who sit
on the upper seat, I asked myself. Who are the
planters of this State, who have thundered forth
during the last fifty years their claim to be con
sidered the true " American gentlemen " ? What
right have they to raise this eternal din of boasts
ing which assails our Northern ears? What is
there, in their ancestry or in themselves, that they
should climb to the top of a pedestal of their own
making, and clamor so boisterously of their better

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 39
blood and breeding, that the masses of the North
half admit their loud-mouthed claims, and the peo
ple of Europe believe, that, for refinement and all
gentlemanly parts,they must look below the manu
facturing States ?
First, then, in the catalogue, come the Creole
families. These are a class of people generally
descended from the old French settlers; and, as
they seldom speak English, they live in a circle
by themselves. Some are wealthy, and very many
are poor. The former are frequently very wealthy,
and the latter miserably poor. They form a very
exclusive clique, whose members intermarry, and
thus keep in a certain round of families what
ever property may be accumulated. I am not
wrong in saying, that this Creole population is
not generally regarded as forming any thing more
than a part of the respectability of the body social.
They are characterized by more than the usual
cruelty to their servants ; and are not noted for
either polish of manner, or refinement. On looking
over the slender library of one of these families, I
found a splendidly bound and entire edition of
Paul de Kock's novels. The rest of the library
consisted of works of a light character, and seemed
to be a fair criticism of the class of people under
review. They exhibit very little taste, either in
the outside decorations of their houses or in the

40 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
internal arrangements. They have lost that pecu
liar delicacy which is the charm of the real French
character, which decorates a room in such a way,
that, the moment you enter, you are impressed
with the feeling, that a cultivated person has been
there before you ; and, in becoming Anglicized, are
satisfied with a bare wall, a plain bedstead and
bureau, and a general confusion and chaos, which
at once dispels all reverence for the present gene
ration of the followers of Bienville and Iberville.
Once in a while, you find one who traces his
pedigree back to these daring adventurers, and
then you discover some attempt at refinement ; but
most of the Creoles are simply descendants of the
rank and file of these leaders, who have crept up
to competency, and who show the nature of their
past by the coarseness of their present.
There is no doubt that I saw these families under
the most unfavorable circumstances. They were
generally registered enemies, who, by their manner,
showed plainly enough that they were aware of
their living simply by the suffrage of the United-
States Government. The men were sullen and
ugly. The women (even those who claimed to have
princely blood in their veins) sometimes forgot
their sex, and descended from the lofty position
of the lady to the common earth of the fish- woman.
They were vindictive, never losing an opportunity

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 41
to insult us ; and one, whom we had occasion to
meet on the TSche, went so far as to malign us in
a note which she requested me to carry to the city.
The note was, of course, open when given to me ;
but the lady wrote in French, presuming that a
poor mudsill could be easily duped. I placed it in
my pocket, never dreaming that one of the real
chivalry could do an uncourteous action. Before I
got back to the city, however, I thought it well to
know what I was doing in thus carrying a letter
from one living in a hostile land. I discovered
that my lady hostess had indulged in a nice Uttle
French tirade against our forces, and prayed that
God would send us defeat ; and the rebels, victory.
I was indignant that I had neglected to read the
note in the woman's presence ; for I could then
have resented the insult. It was only left to me,
however, to pocket my chagrin, and to commit the
offending epistle, with all its beautifully written
anathemas against the good old flag, to the un
healthy waters of the nearest bayou.
The next class forms the bulk of Louisiana
planters. It is largely composed of men, who,
twenty years ago, left the North, and settled in the
South, for the simple and very laudable purpose of
making money. They came here poor ; bought and
cleared a few acres of land ; after years of toil,
and the constant energy and shrewdness which

42 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
mark the Northerner, absorbed into their original
few acres the Uttle plots of the neighboring smaU
planters ; and now sit down in the midst of their
thousand acres, — half or two-thirds of which are
tilled by from fifty to two hundred negroes, — and
talk about good society. That they have been suc
cessful, is a compliment to us. We as well as they
feel a sort of pride in the wealth of one who has gone
from us with a Northern education, and built up a
fortune by his own native vigor of character. It
is weU enough that Mr. Brown, twenty years ago,
took to New Orleans a stallion, which he traded
for a good round sum, and that he crept up from
his position as a jockey to that of a wealthy planter.
But when Mr. Brown, with a remarkable self-com
placency, keeps half' a dozen "niggers" running
about the house to bring him matches, tobacco,
pipe, and tells you with hauteur of the innate
superiority of the Southern character, and puffs
his tobacco-smoke to the ceiling as he dilates on
the pettiness of the Northern nature, it certainly
makes you feel that a groom is a good fellow in
his place, and that many a man, who can rub a
horse down tiU he looks smooth and sleek, finds
himself greatly embarrassed when he comes to
play the gentleman.
Now, the majority of planters in the State are
Eastern or Westerji men, emigrants. They are

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 43
sharp, brilliant in business, and compare favorably
with the same class of people in New York or
Massachusetts. But that they should lay claim to
any thing more than respectability, is simply ludi
crous. The fact is, there is no such thing as an
aristocracy in Louisiana, except such as exists in
every community, and is based on money. As in
every other State in the Union, there is, as I have
mentioned, a small clique who look upon their
ancestry with pride; and a literary clique, com
posed of men who belong to the learned professions,
— men who have made their mark as authors or
statesmen ; and a larger clique, composed of the
land-owners, who have a firm footing on a large
pile of money. If I have rightly classified the
people of the State, and ex uno disce omnes, I am
sure it will be seen that there is no ground for this
grand din about the Southern gentleman. No
falsehood is more palpable than this, which has
been iterated and reiterated in the Southern
church, in Southern literature, in every political
speech, until at last, when the war broke out, it
showed itself in the opprobrious epithets which
were cast upon the Northern character. It has
been a habit, for years, for them to give, and for us
to receive, such insults : and yet, if you would find
a man, who, for the sake of the money he can make,
wiU resort to the very meanest of measures ; will

44 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
buy poor bacon to feed his two hundred hands ;
withal, will keep them on short allowance, while he
gives extra pay to an overseer to see that their
backs are well scored if they do not work, — you
need not go to the money-loving North. The men
of New Orleans will gash their consciences as deeply
as will the men of New York. Up the river, down
the river, and far in the inland parishes, you will
find " honorable men," men of good family, who
would resent an insult to their personal honor with
sword or pistol, who yet are knowingly, wilfully,
and inhumanly cruel to their hands, in order to get
a large crop. They cheat the negroes out of their
food and out of their clothing. They use the whip
with infernal license, and all for dollars and cents ;
and, at the same time, sneer at your prudence and
mine, as evidence of stingy souls.
These very men, when you call on them as a
friend, wiU bring from the cupboard their rich
wines, and charm you by their conversation as
they tell you that their slaves do just as they have
a mind to, and that they are losing money on them
every year, but keep them because they love
them next to their own children. They are lying
to you aU this while. They are lying systema
tically ; and, if you wiU take the pains to go into
the slaves' cabins at night, you wiU find out how
much these men love their slaves, and how much

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 45
the slaves love their owners. I have heard all this
rhetoric of the planter ; and, at first, I believed it.
I began to think slavery was really a patriarchal
institution ; that the owner was a kind of father to
all his people, — feeding them and clothing them,
and caring for them tenderly when they were ill.
But one day, after I had listened to a long chapter
of this kind, I was driving out of the gate, when I
was stopped by a mulatto girl, who held something
in her hand which she evidently wanted me to exa
mine. I reined up the horse ; when she put into
my hand a thick iron ring, which she had been
compeUed to wear about her ankle until it had
made a festering sore. Three others, who knew
our mission, came up ; and one showed my friend
Wheelock his bare back, which was cut and gashed
by the lash that had been appUed only two days
before ; and I said, " A Southern gentleman, a man
who despises money, wiU, after all, lie ! "
I afterwards found this to be universaUy true.
You may talk with a planter upon almost any sub
ject, and you will find him affable and gentlemanly.
He will scorn to misrepresent an event, and will
speak with commendable charity of his neighbors.
The moment, however, the conversation edges
towards slavery, his demeanor changes. He either
grows reticent, and refuses to say a word ; or else
becomes angry, and openly insults you on the spot.

46 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
There is no such thing as a calm discussion of the
subject with him : he seems to think that any as
sertion, true or false, is fair. If he can adduce
facts, he will pile them up ; until, at last, you begin
to think the best thing the Almighty can do is to
get up an extra generation of negroes for the use
of the Southern sugar-planter. If the fabts are not
readily handled, he hammers away at the Old Tes
tament ; quoting verse after verse, trying to prove
that that venerable book has no higher mission
than to afford favorite texts for the slaveholder.
If you suggest that the thraldom of a race impedes
civilization, and is an inhumanity done to the en
slaved, he harangues you on the value of the insti
tution as a missionary society. It has elevated a
whole people from the depths of barbarity to —
" The stocks, the lash, and the adulterous bed of
the overseer, as the numerous mulattoes on every
plantation will testify," I could not help saying one
day, as I listened to one of these special pleaders.
" Not a slave has been whipped on this plantation
for over two years," he replied in a tone of offended
dignity. " The whip was abolished long ago. My
slaves "will all tell you they are happy and con
tented. I have told them over and over again,
that, if they wish to leave the place, they can do
so at any time. I beg you to examine this matter,
and ascertain the truth of my assertion."

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 47
It was very ludicrous ; but in my pocket I had a
little memorandum, which ran thus: " Mr. Williams's
plantation. Number of hands on place at present
time, a hundred and fifty ; number that ran away
six months since, a hundred and forty-two. Com
plaints registered, that boy Tom and girl Mary
were both inhumanly whipped last Thursday."
I do not mean to include in my severe criticism
aU the planters of the department. A few are
really kind to their hands ; and upon those plan
tations there has been no trouble, even in the
midst of the chaos of the last eighteen months.
Still there are but two plantations, south of New
Orleans, on which there has not been more or less
confusion. I can say with all sincerity (and I have visited
most of the plantations in the department of the
Gulf), that, as a general thing, the planters do not
live in as well-made or comfortable houses, do
not arrange their grounds with as much taste, and
do not exhibit as much intelligence, as that large
class at the North which enjoys what is called a
competency. I do not believe, that in point of culture, or in
actual enjoyment of life, the moderately wealthy
class in the South will compare with the same class
in the North. The only subject which they have
made an especial study is politics. They foUow the

48 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
course of their representatives in Congress far
more closely than we do, and take a sort of family
pride in saying kind things of them. They are our
superiors in a certain amount of ready but always
one-sided knowledge of national affairs ; but, in
other paths of literature, they are sadly deficient.
This may be called an over-statement : and yet
every one who has travelled in the South will bear
me out in the assertion, that planters' houses, with
few exceptions, are poorly built, and without re
gard to taste ; are ill-looking and meagre ; that,
inside, there is very seldom any attempt at orna
ment, — oftentimes nothing but bare walls and the
plainest furniture. It is often said, that this is very
natural among a people who live almost wholly out
of doors. I answer, So does the family that has a
summer-house in Swampscott or on Nantasket live
out of doors. Still you will find such a summer
residence arranged with great care and taste. The
furniture, the paintings, the library, — all indicate
taste and refinement on the part of the owner. The
Cuban lives out of doors, and his walls are never
decorated : his house is bare throughout. True ;
and few, who know the Cuban, will claim for
him either good taste, refinement, or education.
No. The facts of which I speak denote a decided
weakness in the Southern planter's character. It
is the natural result of his lonely, insulated, un-

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 49
social life. There is nothing in his surroundings
to make him feel the want of these things. His
mind and tastes and heart inevitably fit themselves
to his hermitage. It is one of the misfortunes of
a planter's life.
Among other interesting subjects upon which I
desired to get information was this vexatious ques
tion of free labor. I have always been startled
by the assertion of those whose long experience
entitled their opinion to respect, that forced labor
was an absolute necessity in the South. To be
sure, I have in my own mind believed the state
ment to be the result of bigotry or interest ; and so
I was only too glad to have an opportunity of look
ing into the matter for myself.
After a hard day's drive, I had been sitting, in
the cool of the evening, in the gallery of a planter's
house, chatting upon indifferent topics. At last,
hoping to elicit some spark on this subject, I
said, —
" What think you, sir, of free labor ? Do you
believe the negro can be hired to work, as are the
laborers of the North ? "
" No, sir," he replied : " free labor, as it is caUed,
will inevitably prove a failure in the South. The
negroes are naturally a low, lazy set. They are not
influenced by any desire of gain, as are all the
members of the white race. When they have
4

50 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
earned a dollar, they will do nothing until it is
gone, and starvation compels them to work again.
I have lived among them twenty years, and I know
them to be a dependent race."
" And yet, sir, you told me, not long since, that
your carpenter and blacksmith and groom and
house-servant were all bright and inteUi gent ; and
your market-man also, who sells the greater part
of your garden-produce. Surely these men are not
dependent : they can earn their living anywhere
and at any time. Now, why would it not be pos
sible for you to hire these men as we do our labor
ers in the North ; and, indeed, to hire all your other
hands in the same way ? "
" For this very obvious reason. Sugar is a crop
not native to the soil of this State : it is what we
term a forced crop. In Cuba, for instance, the
sugar-planter takes no care of his grounds at all.
When once his sugar-cane is planted, the rattoons
will last from ten to fifteen years. Not so here.
We are compelled to nurse our cane, to plough, to
hoe, and to exercise constant vigilance ; and in the
fall, when the crop is almost ripe, we have all
the way from twenty to a hundred thousand dol
lars at stake. We are afraid of the frosts. One
cold night costs us- thousands of doUars. We are
compeUed to commence grinding our cane before it
is wholly ripe, in order to get through before the

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 51
frosts take us. Now, in the grinding-season, we
work our mills night and day. The season lasts
generally three months. We must have absolute
control over our hands during that time. If tliey
refuse to work, we must have power to whip them.
It is necessary to be able to reckon with perfect
certainty on a given number of laborers ; and un
less we have this forced labor, which you call sla
very, we shall have to give up the sugar-crop, and
you people of the North will have to " —
" Give two cents a pound less for sugar than we
do now," I could not help rejoining.
" What dp you mean ? "
" Why, sir, what you, of course, already know.
This State yields us about one-quarter of the sugar
used in America. In order to protect this sugar
interest, a tariff is required of all sugars imported
from Cuba ; and the result is, that the poor through
out the whole United States are compelled to give
from one to two cents extra for every pound of
sugar consumed, simply because you are deter
mined to raise what your soil was never intended
to raise. And, besides this mere monetary imposi
tion, you insist that the institution of slavery, or
forced labor, shall be ceded, in order that you may
make your crops profitable."
He at once met me by throwing square in my
face a long text from Moses ; and I saw that the

52 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
conversation was at an end. I can stand bolt up
right, and take a man's facts ; indeed, they are what
I seek : but I confess to perfect powerlessness,
when, after detailing to him a long catalogue of
statistics which to me are perfectly conclusive, he
quietly gets up, and, bringing out the old family
Bible, turns to the dog-eared parts of the Penta
teuch which he has pondered over so often, and
hurls at me his " Thus saith the Loed." There is
no chance for argument then. You may be well
assured that your antagonist is working on a piece
of deep strategy ; and it is best for you to start at
once for the other side of the Rappahannock.
Now, I am not at all inclined to deny this gentle
man's facts. There is no doubt whatever that the
sugar-crop of the South is a forced crop. The cane
in Cuba grows with wonderful vigor, and spreads
over the surface of the ground until it has become
a perfect network. In the South, on the contrary,
it is planted in rows four or six feet apart ; and the
rattoons never spread, and last only three years at
most. It may be true, too, that forced labor is an
absolute necessity to secure the crop in the autumn.
It certainly is not to be doubted, that the Southern
crop is protected by a tariff, because it costs the
planters two cents a pound more to raise the crop
than it does the Cuban. But, in view of these facts,
I most respectfully submit, that it would be good

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 53
policy on the part of the United States to buy up
the landed property of Louisiana, and sell it again
to the ten thousand little Creole-planters who have
been by degrees crowded out of their farms by the
large land-owners, on condition that not a stalk of
cane shall ever be allowed to come out of the
ground. If we can't have sugar without the stain
of slavery, then let us go without it. The poor
man of Ohio and Kansas ought not to be com{)elled
to pay an extra price for one of the most necessary
of his domestic wants, because thirteen hundred
land-owners persist in raising a given crop in spite
of the prohibition of Nature.
The next evening, I had the pleasure of stopping
with a frank, open-hearted gentleman, who gave
me the other side of the free-labor question, He
believed in slavery, and was equally pugnacious
upon the subject with my friend of the night
before ; but putting the black man out of sight
entirely, and speaking of the expense of conduct
ing a plantation, he opened up one or two facts
which I regarded as important, and which I after
ward fully corroborated. He owned some two
hundred and fifty people. Of these, not more than
sixty, or seventy-five at most, could be reckoned
as good, able-bodied field-hands. The remaining
two-thirds were old, young, decrepit, or in the hos
pital. There were between thirty and forty chil-

54 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
dren on the place. As a general rule, not more
than one-third of the people on the older planta
tions are fit for service. This is a fair average,
as I proved by my later experience. Now, these
people are all to be supported. They all draw
th^ir rations of food and clothing ; and though
these are both poor enough, yet, in the aggregate,
the expense must be considerable. So I said to
my friend, —
" Would it not be cheaper for you to hire these
sixty or seventy hands, who carry on your place,
at good wages, than to own them, with all the risks
of disease and death, and be compeUed to support
this long train of dependants ? "
" Most assuredly," he replied at once. " If it
could be so arranged, I would willingly give every
able-bodied hand on the place a dollar a day, the
year through. Slaves are costing more every year.
The price of good, able-bodied hands has more
than doubled in the last twelve years. Free labor
can no doubt be made a success. Still, slavery is
one of the rights of the South ; and is, of a truth,
the salvation of the African race."
Here followed the same stale arguments which
I had been through with a dozen times. At last,
however, he got excited, and referred to the West
Indies as proof that the only proper condition of
the negro is one of dependence.

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 56
" Were you ever in Jamaica ? " I asked, turning
the conversation to matters of travel.
"Yes, sir. I spent some three months in Ja
maica." " Who were the custom-officers there, sir?"
. " Men as black as -your hat. It surprised me
when one came upon deck, and, in a very gentle
manly way, asked to see our trunks ; and when
the preliminaries were through, and the captain
asked him into the cabin, he gave us as neat a little
speech as I ever heard, and, in all respects, bore
himself like a gentleman."
" And yet this man, also, is one of the depend
ants. You were not ashamed to be seen drinking
with him, and you listened to his speech with plea
sure ? "
He afterward spoke of going into society, and
meeting the blacks familiarly, — lawyers, judges,
military officers, and scholars ; and did not express
any repugnance at such intimacy.
Nothing surprised me more than this tame, trite
assertion concerning the natural dependence of
the negro, and bis unfitness to get his own living.
Not only does every plantation in the State con
tradict the statement, but also a large class of free
persons of color in every city, who not only sup
port their families, but by their shrewdness have
succeeded in laying up quite a little fortune against

56 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
a time of want. When I went through the Teche
country, I visited very many farms, from those of
a few acres to those which spread over an area as
large as most plantations, which were owned and
carried on by free persons of color. These people
exist in sufficient numbers to form a class, and,
though tabooed from all good white society, live
quite happily, and in the enjoyment of fortunes
ranging all the way from thousands to hundreds of
thousands of doUars. They are known as a quiet,
thrifty community. They have no rights, of course,
under the State laws ; but their well-conducted
plantations amply prove, that the ability to take
care of one's self exists independently of any color
of the skin. With such examples as these scat
tered through the country, a shrewd, wealthy
black, alternating with a white man, whose vacant
stare and squalid poverty stamp him at once as a
member in good standing of that large community
composed of poor trash, it is worse than puerile
for a planter to assert concerning the one race,
that it is by nature dominant ; and of the other,
that it was intended by the Almighty to do the
white man's bidding. The free negro who makes
his hundred or two hundred bales of cotton every
year, is, by all the laws of God and man, a part of
our civilization, entitled to all the rights and piivi-
leges of citizenship ; and the State that, by law or

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 57
public opinion, deprives him of one iota of such
rights, is recreant to its trust, and unworthy a
place in to-day's history. He is one of the real
aristocrats ; and all your laws, and all your scoffs
and taunts and miscaUed facts, wiU fail to reduce
him to the ranks. And the poor devil of a white
man, who sits in the doorway sucking his dirty
fingers, with no ambition, a mere lump of animated
putty, with a brain as solid and useless as so much
wet clay, is a base plebeian ; one intended to serve ;
a man who cannot take care of himself: and you
may legislate until doomsday; you may decree
him a member of the dominant race as much as
you please, — it is of no use. There is no fire in
him, no life, no soul. He crawls: he does not
stand erect. So this question of dominance is not
one of race, but of individuals. There are some
born to rule, but they are not all white. There
are many born to serve ; but they are not all black.
To serve or rule is a right which is not written in
the skin, but in the head.
These two evenings threw a vast deal of light on
this subject of free labor. That it may be made a
success, there is no longer any doubt. Indeed, it
has been proved, that a profitable crop of sugar
can be raised by white labor, although far more
expensive than black labor. But the plan is an
innovation, and wiU meet with great opposition

58 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
from many of the planters, — men who do not be
long to the South, but who came here for the
simple purpose of speculation.
There is one class of men only who readily con
cede that it may be made a success. It consists
of those who have lived here forty and fifty 3'ears ;
who have a large number of unproductive hands,
old and young, — people who have grown up on the
plantation, and who are part and parcel of it.
The owners do not like to sell them : indeed, they
are not worth any thing. Still, they amount to a
great deal, when the expenses of' the place are
reckoned. There is another class, generally con
sisting of Northern men, who came here twentj'
years ago, determined on making money. These
do not have the usual surplus of children and old
people. Their hands are all able to work, and are
mostly men. They, at first, buy the requisite
number of " head " to carry on their place, assur
ing themselves that they are sound in wind and
limb ; and then, with an acuteness which is worthy
of a better cause, they watch them day by day.
When one falls sick, he is sold, and a stout hand
substituted. Any exhibition of weakness is suffi
cient to bring one to the auction-block. In this
way, the hands are always able-bodied ; and there
is no drag on the planter, of ~biUs for the hospital,
and other little inconveniences, which are experi-

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 69
enced on most plantations. This man is furious
when you talk to him of free labor. He speaks in
unmeasured terms of the abolitionists, and believes
that the President's proclamation has actually
ruined the country.
Still, there is no need of trembling in the pre
sence of these men : there is more thunder than
lightning in them. Since their souls are so ab
sorbed in dollars and cents, it only becomes neces
sary to inaugurate the system of free labor ; and
at the end of the first season, when the ledger,
which is their only Bible, gives its verdict in favor
of right and humanity, true to their instincts, these
financial weather-cocks will turn to free' labor, and
support it so zealously, that you will almost be per
suaded they are Christians. It is of no use to
argue with such men. They are more than ada
mant to all your logic. But show them, at the end
of the year, the five-dollar bill on the right side of
the account, and they jump at it as quickly as the
early spring trout at the fly.
All the sacred texts of the Pentateuch will then
be forsaken. No more dog-ears, no more fum
bling for new proofs. The converted men will sit
quietly in their pews when the minister speaks of
the equality of all men in the sight of God ; not a
scowl in their faces, not a hair on their heads
ruffled. It is, after all, the five-doUar bill that

60 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
supports the institution, and gives its authenticity
to the Old Testament. Slip the biU away, and
put it under the corner of the Temple of Freedom,
and how quickly all her aisles will be filled with
devotees ! The millennium will commence at once.
Who can measure the length, breadth, or power of
a poor five-dollar bill ?
I hope my friends will not judge, from this long
array of sharp criticism, that I am naturally of
an ill temper ; that my liver was affected by the
miasm of the swamps ; or that, in the hopeless
endeavor to brush away the clouds of mosquitoes,
who did very little cooing, but an immense amount
of billing, I saw things through the anathemas
and immense expletives which I showered upon
those musical insects. I am naturally of a very
mild temper, and do not fail to remember many
alhce dies spent among friendly planters and 'on
pleasant excursions. When I generalize, it is my
business to forget every thing, — the kind atten
tions gracefully offered to a weary traveller, the fair
hand proffering the refreshing wine, the soft bed
after the hard day's work, and the broiled chicken
of the next morning, — and see only a system, an
institution, in its many bearings on society; a
principle of political economy in all its practical
workings. I have read a great many books of travel in the

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 61
South ; and, I think, have generally discovered how
they were written, and at what time of the day.
Here is one, for instance, a queer little thing, with
scarce a word of truth between the covers, praising
all Southern society, and even daring to laud sla
very. Now, though the thing is a literary curi
osity, from the fact that it is false from beginning
to end, you and I, who have been through the
mill, can guess very well when all that honest rhe
toric was written. I will tell you my guess ; but
you must not let it go farther. It is one of those
things the public must not know. It was just after
dinner : it is a post-prandial production ; a quiet
little clerical joke, which the public does not un
derstand. Listen to my conjecture in detail. The future
author was met at the station by a fine, talkative
old gentleman, who at once made him feel, after
his hard day's ride, that he had at last reached a
haven of rest, where he might consider himself
an honored guest. The racket of the cars was
changed for the soft cushions of a carriage. His
tired nerves were deliciously titillated by the
pleasant garrulity of the old gentleman, who min
gled fact, fiction, and witticism in his conversation.
The house was reached. It was pleasantly sur
rounded by exquisitely fragrant orange-trees, whose
fresh blossoms filled the air with perfume ; and.

6*2 PLANTERS AND PLANTATI0N3.-
after a quiet cup of tea, the considerate host showed
his weary guest to the' chamber. Here, too, were
flowers. How full of good feeling and of refinement these
Southern people are ! What distinguished man
ners I — the lofty bearing of a prince, and yet the
utmost suavity and geniality. What a difference
between brick walls, hot and musty, and this am
brosial air, laden with the fragrance of wild roses
and geraniums !
Just then, when the poor guest was half dis
robed, a timid knock was heard.
"Come in!"
The door opened, and a curly-headed, pretty
little boy entered, — he is one of the flowers of
rhetoric belonging to the system, — bearing a
little waiter, with a pitcher of iced lemonade, with
just enough claret in it to make it nectar.
" Massa sends dis, sir," said, the bashful little
feUow. How kind, how considerate I How remarkable
these Southern people are for the delicacy of their
attentions ! When the boy left the room, a thought
entered the guest's head. He went to the South
not merely for his health, but to see the institu
tion ; and here was a piece of it trotting about the
house, and bringing him ice-water. This chance
was not to be lost. Opening the door, he cried, —

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 63
" Come back, my child : I want to speak to
you." The little fellow, who had never been addressed
in that way before, hesitated a moment, wondering
if he was the one meant ; and then entered the
room again.
" My little boy," said the guest, beginning his
experience, and gently pinching the little slave's
fat cheeks, " are you happy ? "
" Yes, massa," the child said, of course. There
was nothing else to say.
" Does your master treat you well ? and do you
have good things to eat, and a nice bed to lie
on?" " Yes, massa."
Then the boy was dismissed, and the first im
pression of slavery was received. If I had only
been at his elbow, I would have asked another
question : —
" Boy, Where's your father ? "
" Don'o, sir," he would have answered.
" Don't know, eh? Haven't you ever seen him,
or ever heard your mother talk about him ? "
" No, massa," he would have replied wonderingly.
Now, look at his skin : it is a very delicate olive.
Tliat boy never had any father I
You see I have got my first impression of the
institution. I got no iced lemonade, with claret in

64 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
it ; but I think I got hold of a very ugly fact
instead. The next day, just before dinner, the saddle-
horses were at the door ; and the guest trembled a
little, no doubt, for he is not accustomed to the
exercise : but there is no fear ; for the beast is a
blood-horse, and as gentle as a kitten. The rider
has nothing to do but to keep still, and the weU-
trained animal lopes along most elegantly. Let us
keep up with the old gentleman and the future
author. Here are the fields : they stretch along
two miles on the road, and are half or three-quar
ters of a mile deep. Behind them are the cypress-
woods, extending indefinitely, sometimes six miles
back to the lake. The affable old gentleman is an
immense landed proprietor, fit to be a lord, and
entirely unlike the small farmers of the North. At
length, they reach the field where the hands are at
work, — fifty, seventy-five, a hundred of them, —
the men with nothing but pantaloons on, their
backs shining in the sun ; the women d la Bloomer,
their skirts tucked above their knees, and on their
heads sometimes a piece of a bonnet, again a
straw-hat, and stiU again a red and yeUow ban
danna. " There," says the host jocularly, " is the insti
tution. Now, sir, those boys and girls were all
raised on this estate. I took care of most of them

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 65
when they were curly-headed tots. A great many
of them can read and write. Some have money in
the bank. They have their little chapel, where
they praise God every sabbath. Sir, much as your
Northern people say against us, we yet hold our
slaves in deep regard. We are all one family.
What I have, they have. They have plenty of
food, and a good house. They are the most jovial
set in. the world ; and could not, I verily believe, be
hired to leave the estate. This, sir, is slavery:
abolish it, and you throw these, my family, upon
the cold charities of the world."
Now, that is certainly a very pretty thing to say.
The guest believes every word of it. Why not ?
WiU an affable old gentleman, who sends up to his
chamber iced lemonade with claret in it, lie ? The
thought is unworthy.
Our Northern fanatics have vilified the institu
tion. These people are in far better condition
than the poor whites of New England. They are
always properly cared for. Has not the host said
it ? Ah me I if only the wild abolitionists could sit
on this saddle, and view this truly patriarchal
scene, they would at once vote the Democratic
ticket. These are not exactly the words the guest's
thoughts would assume, if he chose to utter them ;
but onl)' my interpretation of what was going on
in his mind.

66 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
By the way, the future author did not notice the
black boy, who aU the while was standing close by
his horse, and who heard every word of the above
well-deUvered speech; and consequently he lost
the queer expression of the feUow's face when
ever the old gentleman became pathetic.
You've seen those bank-biUs, which, for fear of
being counterfeited, are printed nearly aU over
with one doUar, one dollar, one dollar? WeU,
the boy's face was covered all over in the same
way with characters which any one could read;
and they were not quite complimentary to the
affable old gentleman : so I shall not mention them
here. Nor did the author notice the sharp voice
of command with which the boy was ordered to
the field : so he got his second impression. I did
notice those two queer little inciden|;s, and got my
second impression ; and, if I should compare notes
with the guest, he would be greatly surprised at
the discrepancy in our opinions.
He forgot, too, to go to the cabins after dark,
and talk with the people, just to corroborate what
the old gentleman said about his love for hands ;
and so didn't get any third impression at all. I
did do that thing, and was surprised to find one of
" the family " just from the whipping-house, with
his back all cut up, — a raw mass of flesh, made by
a long raw-hide lash ; and there I found my third
impression.

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 67
After a while, the guest's book was written.
You and I know where to find the iced lemonade
in page one, the blood saddle-horse in page two,
and the affable and garrulous old gentleman in all
the rest of the book. Still, these things are to be
kept from the public, who are to be left to wonder
how it is possible for Mr. A. to go South in May,
and Mr. B. to go South in June, and, going over the
same ground, to write books, — the one saying that
slavery is from heaven, the other that it is from
hell. You and I know that it is simply because
they don't see the same things. The one man sees
the planter, and the other man sees the planta
tion. If, then, my book is fuU of sharp criticism, and
if I say more unpleasant things than pleasant ones
of the South, I pray you not to attribute it to my
temper so much as to my honesty. Shall I say kind
things of an institution that is hateful, because
some of those who uphold it treat me with gene
rous courtesy? Because my host comes in to say
" Good-night ! " and wishes me pleasant dreams, shall
I borrow his spectacles, and swear that a thing is
sound, when my own eyes teU me it is rotten ? If
my host demands this, he is my enemy. I must
look into every comer, and teU what I see. I beg
you, therefore, to believe, that it was not the
absence of iced lemonade, with claret in it, which

68 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
is the motor to my severe language. I certainly
met with some pleasant gentlemen, and, through
their courtesy, enjoyed many a day of rare sport,
and visited many scenes which I recall with pecu
liar pleasure. Let me teU you of some of these
experiences. Being very much worn with constant travelling
for weeks, Mr. Lawrence, of the Magnolia Planta
tion, about forty-five miles below the city, asked
Mr. Wheelock and myself to spend a few days with
him ; and we at once cheerfully accepted his kind
invitation. We found him a very genial, hospita
ble gentleman, and enjoyed our stay exceedingly.
We rode over his fine, large plantation ; and hap
pening to hit a half-acre of luscious, ripe black
berries (it was in May), found ourselves in the
midst of the brambles in a surprisingly short time ;
leaving the place with great hesitation, and then
only on condition that we should make daily visits
to the spot, or that the darkies should bring the
well-laden baskets to us. Day after day, we sat in
the gallery, enjoying the luxury of physical repose,
which seemed like a delightful, prolonged siesta.
A few quaint, old-fashioned books supplied us with
reading ; and good-tempered but sometimes warm
discussions upon the topics of the day came in to
fill up the little interstices of time, when we other
wise might have felt the symptoms of ennui.

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. C9
One day, our host told us that a few miles away
were three of those mysterious mounds which the
Indians left as a memento and a puzzle to the white
man, and that we could go a part of the way
through some of the flnest scenery in the State.
It was at once determined that we ought to make
the trip : so the orders were given to have a skiff
in the canal early in the morning, with Sam and
Jim to handle the white-oak. A- bright, beau
tiful morning it was. Soon after breakfast, the
buggy drove to the door ; and we rode to the canal,
at the wood-end of the plantation, where we found
our two sable friends ready. A half-mile through
the canal, where we scared up an alligator ten feet
long, who made the water foam when he went
down, and we struck into the beautiful Cheni^re, a
bayou about seventy-five feet wide, and one of that
tangled web of bayous which drain the lower part
of the State. We moved smoothly and quietly
along, the silence broken only by the regular dip
of the oars ; all about us, on either side, an almost
boundless prairie, level as a floor, and covered with
tall, rank grass five or six feet high. I could not
control my destructive tendencies, and landed twice
to set it on fire ; but succeeded only in making a
huge smoke, which floated upwards in heavy black
clouds, adding to the picturesqueness of the
scene.

70 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
' We went on in this way for a little while, when
the CheniSre flowed through some woods which
gave us scenery wholly different. On the banks,
and out of the rich marshy land, grew those won
derful live-oaks, uncouth but grand, which one
must see to appreciate. So tough is the fibre, that
branches sometimes grow horizontally to incredible
lengths. I remember seeing one branch thus
growing, which I measured, and found, to my sur
prise, that it was eighty feet long ; extending
almost at right angles from the trunk. These long
branches stretch out over the water, forming the
most delightful shade ; while from them hangs, in
thick, rich folds, six feet long or more, this aerial
moss, which makes every forest of the South so
picturesque. It gives the tree the air of antiquity ;
and the knotty, rough, irregular character of the
live-oak strengthens the impression. I thought, at
the time, that it was the most romantic, unreal,
weird, and yet fascinating picture I had ever
looked on. But the illusion that it was the .home
of the fairies was soon dispelled by the numerous
aUigators, which were lazily lying on logs, or, ogrg-
Uke, floating leisurely along, only their thin, long
heads visible. They disappeared only when our
boat showed a desire on our part to cultivate too
close an intimacy.
At last, we reached the place where we were to

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 71
land, and take guides through the woods to the
hieroglyphics of ancient history. Two little huts
showed themselves just on the edge of the woods ;
and farther on, in a cleared space, another, in
which lived, not the lowest of the "poor white
trash," but people deplorably dirty and incredi
bly ignorant. The master of the first hut, who
was to be our guide, had reclaimed from the
swamp and forest a few acres of land, and had, at
his leisure and at sundry times, planted a few
orange-trees thereon, from which he hoped, in the
course of a few years, to enjoy a snug little in
come. How he managed to support himself in the
interim, I could not discover. There was no evi
dence of farming utensils having been used ; for
thick clusters of weeds, of most luxuriant growth,
tangled our feet at every step. A little patch of
half an acre was planted with sweep potatoes.
That was the entire farm. The Creole fished and
hunted, and in that way supplied his table. When
he was successful, his dinner consisted of sweet
potatoes, plus a catfish or a piece of venison ; and,
when he came home empty-handed, it consisted
simply of the aforementioned esculent. His neigh
bors enjoyed the luxury of a log-hut, the wide
cracks in which were not even plastered with mud.
Three men and a woman lived in it. I saw one
rude mattress, and was convinced that these simple

72 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
people lived in a perfectly natural wray ; and were,
perhaps, being far from the contaminations of the
city, delighting in a little golden age of their
own. However, be this as it may, we started for the
' mounds. It was a rude path we travelled, through
acres of straight, slender cane-stalks, which would
have excited me beyond measure in my Izaak Wal
ton days ; over fallen timber, and narrow bridges
made of uncertain limbs ; spanning black, slimy-
looking, stagnant water ; through clouds of every
kind of pestiferous insect known to the naturalist.
Such heat never was felt before. We reached the
mounds in a very melting mood ; and, clambering
forty feet to the top of one, were compelled to
build a smudge, and put our heads in the hot, wavy
smoke, in order to be comfortable. What expe
dients will not a man resort to in pursuit of com
fort !
. We were, however, well repaid for our journey ;
for these great heaps of earth, burial-places, land
marks of history, or whatever they may be, — dumb
mementos of the past, — were very interesting.
They were like those cairns found in the West, in
Labrador, and all along the Gulf-coast. Some have
been opened ; but nothing satisfactory has been
discovered. A few huge boxes, some pieces of
pottery, and a few rude agricultural or domestic

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 73
utensils, are all that have ever been dug up.
Whether they were made by the Indians, whom
we have driven away ; or whether they are as old
as the Pyramids, relics of a race living here when
the earth was young, in some dim, ante-historio
period, — has not yet been decided.
We walked back to the guide's house ; and whUe j
sitting on the steps, in the shade; found that he had
been one of the brave defenders of Fort Jackson.
" Why did you go to the war ? "
" Couldn't help it."
"Why not?"
"New-Orleans people came down, and took aU
the men off every little place,"
" What were you fighting for ? Do you know ? "
" Yes, sir (very emphaticaUy). 'Cause the rich
planters got into a row about their damned nig
gers ; that's aU. They staid at home, got up a
big excitement, and made all the poor men stop
the buUets."
We rowed back again, more charmed than ever
with the beautiful Chenidre, where the vessels of
La Fitte used to anchor, snugly ensconced and out
of sight while he was laying in provisions for a
long voyage. We had enjoyed a most delightful
day ; reaching Mr. Lawrence's at about five o'clock,
where we found a dinner to which we did ample
justice. 6

74 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
And now back to my position of critic.
The great passion of the Southerner is to become
the owner of a large landed estate : his ambition is
for broad acres and heavy crops. Out of these he
makes his aristocracy, not based on learning nor
personal worth nor ancestry, but on personal influ
ence. The inevitable tendency is to centralize the
power of the State, and to create a class of men
who every year stand in bolder opposition to the
levelling democracy of the North, and in greater
antagonism to the principles of republicanism. It
is they, not we, who have departed from the grand
historic thought which lies at the centre of Ameri
can civilization. Whatever may have been the
immediate occasion of the war, it is plain that
the cause of it was in the widely differing ambition
of the two peoples. Driven by the force of our
newspapers, our pulpits, our literature, our lyceums,
and our schools, we are tending more and more
directly to the extreme of democracy ; while they
have always had an itching palm for the privileges
of the English landed gentry, whom they have
aped for half a century. They disgusted even a
real Britisher, Mr. Russell, by their whinings after
a prince. They are weary of republicanism, for
sooth, because some poor fellow may stand between
the wind and their nobility.
And they are ever pestering one with the power

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 75
of cotton. Go where you will, your ears are eter
nally dinned with sugar and cotton. You may
commence a conversation on eclipses, and persist
in your endeavors to steer clear of the fatal sub
ject : you will sail along smoothly for a while ; but
the cry will soon come from the look-out, " Break
ers ahead I " and, before you know it, you have run
your vessel high and dry into a cotton or cane field.
I have often suggested that there were in the
market other staple products. I have ventured to
mention the hay-crop and the corn-crop of the
North ; and once I grew warm, and entered into a
dissertation, on the historic and politic economical
value of the North. I spoke of the individualism
which marks us, of our general thrift, our edu
cated masses ; and called the gentleman's attention
to the fact, that the saw which cut the boards of his
house was made in the North ; that the nails he
used daily, his ploughs, his carpets, his furniture,
his beds, his knives and forks, his carriage, his
clock, all came from the North. " These things,"
I said, "indicate that the people are intelligent,
thoughtful, and worthy the place they occupy in
the world's history as the exponents of a new
political truth."
" Still you can't get along without cotton," was
the only answer I could elicit. There is one writer
in De Bow's Review who puts this material in its

76 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
proper place. " There was a time," he says, " when,
the number of slaves in the States being very
small, an universal desire to emancipate manifested
itself. It was a calamity to be dreaded above all
^ings. But just at this juncture, just in the nick
of time, and only ten years after King George had
relinquished his rule in America, in steps King
Cotton, forbidding by his power what the other had
forbidden by his veto ; viz., the abolition of slavery:
and so (lie negroes were saved.' '
This chivalrous king has done stUl more for
the negroes. " It has fed them, clothed them,
sheltered them, protected them from the uncompro
mising civilization about them, taught thousands of
them to read and write, and converted thousands
more to the Christian religion."
Think of this, ye careless abolitionists of the
North ! While you have been talking about fancied
rights and wrongs, the generous slaveholder has
completely, and, what is better, practically, solved
the whole problem. Out of pure love of the tropic
race, he has fiUed- his fields with cotton-seed in the
spring, sent his hands to school aU summer, and
reaped a crop of five hundred bales in the autumn.
Your philanthropy has all failed ; and the growth of
cotton has proved that the slave should be a slave
for ever, and fill the white man's pocket with
gold.

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 77
" But, if you would learn the immense importance
of this weed as a political and civil influence, you
have but to imagine its temporary loss, and the
awful consequences which must inevitably follow.
It would close the miUs of Manchester, and an
eighth part of the population of England would, at
a blow, be deprived of their means of support;
trade and commerce would be completely parar-
lyzed ; and so intimately connected are the inter
ests of the civilized world now, that this shock to
the welfare of England and America would make the
whole civiUzed world bankrupt. It would carry
ruin to the abodes of people in Berlin, who have
never seen a negro nor raw cotton, and imagine
themselves uninterested in either. It would shake,
if not destroy, the throne of Louis Napoleon."
I have met all degrees of conceit, — the poot
dandy, who flattered himself that his fine looks led
captive every girl whom he met ; the millionnaire,
"who proudly believed, that, with a nod of his head,
he could produce an earthquake : but this reaches
the sublime. It towers so high, that we forget to
laugh, and only look to wonder.
It is very curious to look at such an assertion,
made in 1860, in the light of the events of the last
three years. A disaster has happened to the cot
ton-crop ; and instead of being sold to fill the mills
of Manchester, and hold up the throne of Napoleon,

78 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
it has been used to keep shot and shell from our
gunboats, and for breastworks both by rebel and
Union forces. Still, the convulsion has not come.
The " whole civilized world," instead of being bank
rupt, is making money as fast as ever, and setting
its wits at work to find a substitute for that, which,
with its attendant evils, has brought on one of the
bloodiest wars of history.
The Southerner does not seem to have any pride
in the progress of ideas : he confines himself to his
own State ; and, with a bigotry and want of logic
which augur ill for his future, he clings with blind
tenacity to State-rights, and persistently ignores the
fact of a central government. Patrick Henry said,
" I am not a Virginian ; I am an American : " but the •
Southerner says, with equal fire, " I am not an
American, but a Louisianian." The war must go
on until it removes all obstacles, and we stand on
some platform where we can have a community of
feeling. Hence it is, that what may be called the civiliza
tion of the South does not equal. that of the North.
You find there the old feudal times, with very little
change to fit the new century. After you leave
the large cities, you seem to enter into a new cen
tury, and to breathe the air, and see the sights,
which belonged to France and England four hun
dred years ago.

PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS. 79
The plantation is the old feudal estate. There
is no moated wall, no draw-bridge, no row of stal
wart men in armor clad to meet you at the en
trance, and announce your arrival ; but, in many
essential points, the resemblance is complete.
Here, in the castle, are those who hold undisputed
authority over from one to three hundred human
beings. They live a strange, aimless life. Time
hangs on their hands heavily, and each day is but
a facsimile of every other day in the year. Yonder,
in those little sheds, are the. followers, the serfs,
the slaves, of the chief. They are purposely kept
in ignorance, because learning would open their
eyes to their degraded condition, and they would
break their chains. Like the serfs of Russia, these
people belong to the soil, and are sold with it.
They are fed on the meanest food ; live in the midst
of all manner of uncleanness; are subject to the
wiU and wishes of owner and overseer, who can
score their backs until they are covered with
mountain-ridges of caUoused flesh ; and the law of
the State, protects the master, and passes sentence
of death on the sufferer if he shows the spirit of a
man, and lifts his arm in his own defence.
There is an infinite gloom hanging over such a
life. It may do for the brutal land-owner or baron
of the fifteenth century ; but it is a sorry picture
with which to illustrate the pages of American
history.

80 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS,
The President " builded better than he knew,"
when he struck a blow at this institution ; and the
people of our land should demand that he take back
the words which exempt certain parishes, and
make a clean sweep from one end of the country
to the other.
It may be asked, seeing all this evil, have you
not discovered, here and there, a spark of gold?
My only answer is, that, after the most careful ex
amination, I can see in the system only unmitigated
evil for both planter and negro. No human nature
can endure the life of the planter, and retain its
integrity. Its inevitable tendency is to demoral
ize. This, every one, who has had opportunity
for observation, wiU admit. That the laws of mo
rality are very loosely kept, is abundantly evident
from the large number of mulattoes to be seen every
where ; and it does not increase one's respect for
the moral tone of society, when it is known that
these things are regarded as a matter of course,
even by the planters' families. When the ladies
of her court attempted to tease Marie Antoinette
about the penchant which Louis had for certain
fair women, she replied, " Oh I we must certainly
allow him some luxuries." StiU, the state of soci
ety in the time of Louis is not one to be made a
pattern for us. Mr. Russell, when dining with the
Southern commissioners, says the celebrated Keyes

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 81
affair was discussed, and the hot Southerners
spoke of the summary way in which such things
are treated by them. He adds, " An argument
which can scarcely be alluded to was used by
them to show that these offences in slave States
had not the excuse which might be adduced to
diminish their gravity, when they occurred in
States where all the population were white,"
Nothing is so saddening, to one who loves the .
whole of America, as this general want of any na^
tional pride, which oppresses one on every side in
the South. I have ridden over hundreds of miles
of Louisiana ; have met with all classes of men,
high and low, rich and poor: but nowhere did I
find any who spoke of our country. There is no
patriotism, in its large sense, in the Southern
States. Since Calhoun became the representative
and idol of the agricultural interests, and dissemi
nated that political poison which produces such
hallucination, that the GaroHnian and Louisianian
beUeve, that, when America is mentioned, their
own particular State is meant, there has been
no comprehensive patriotism in any of the slave
States. I said to one, who was vehemently de
claiming about sovereign States, —
" But, my dear sir, are the United States a
myth ? Is there no central Government, to which
is intrusted a supervision over the whole? Did
7

82 PLANTEES AND PLANTATIONS.
we buy this State of yours simply because we had
an overplus of money which we did not know how
to invest? Or, on the other hand, did Louisiana
become a component part of the indivisible integer
known as the United States, to be governed in aU
local matters by her own citizens, and in all na
tional concerns by the will of a majority of the
whole people ? "
My ire was of no use. He had but one kind of
pride, — in his State. Material to the last degree,
he insisted on the final triumph of the Confederacy,
because cotton and sugar are necessary to the
world. Not a word about the right or wrong of
secession. These are arguments which pass for
just nothing in the Southern mind. It was all
arithmetic. England consumes so much cotton
annually. She has so many bales on hand. In so
many weeks, her miUs wiU stop running. Then
her people wiU begin to clamor for bread. As a
natural consequence, intervention will come. The
Confederacy will be acknowledged, the blockade
wiU be raised, and the thing is done.
Perhaps I
Never in my life have I felt so much pride in
New England as since I have been among the
planters of this State. Never before did I believe
she exercised such influence. She is hated with a
hatred deep and bitter, because of her public

PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS. 83
schools, and her most persistent notions of popu
lar education; for her free press, which, with a
galling independence, discusses the merits of all
questions of national policy ; for her pulpits,
whence come doctrines which keep the minds of
the people alive with quickening thought ; and for
her large-hearted and continent^embracing patri
otism, which denounces that selfish love of State
which forgets the whole country, and is absorbed
in the petty interests of the plantation. No won
der we are looked upon as the incendiaries of
America. But, if there were no hay-staCks nor
powder-magazines in the South, why should they
fear this open, free discussion ? They can talk of
us as they please, and we will not mob their speak
ers. They may criticise our institutions as bitterly
as they choose. We are not afraid when they
handle fire. They fear and hate us, only because
we are republican, and they are not. They hate
us for the same reason that aristocrats, or those
who would be such, hate true democrats the world
over, — because we are determined to enlarge the
boundaries of popular rights, and because our
pulpits and our press wiU thunder against
every thing which is anti-republican, wherever
it is found. Here is the chief source of trou
ble. The State flag is first; the national flag is
nowhere.

84 PLANTERS AND PLANTATIONS.
, Believe me, there is but one remedy. It is to
conquer these people by an irresistible force ; per
sist in the war at all hazards and costs, until the
victory is complete ; enforce all national measures
with a hand of iron ; decree that every man who
treads the soil shall be free, and that wealth and
position and fame are open to competition by all ;
and then leave half our army to settle in the
lands they have conquered. Then wUl the radical
change come.
Sure* am I, that not tiU then shall we have a
country that is worth our boasting ; and as sure
am I, that, when that day shall come, a new era
will be inaugurated, — a golden era, in which the
people from the Lakes to the Gulf will have, for
the first time, one purpose and one aim. We shall
be one people; and come out of the fiery furnace of
this great trial cleansed, and renewed in our man
hood.

LOUISUNIANS. 85

CHAPTER m.

LOUISIANIANS.

COULD an angel take his position above any of
our great Northern cities, what would he see
that would tell him that the people below were
engaged in a war mightier in its results than the
wars of Alexander and Csesar? Poising thus mid-
heaven, he would see only the swaying crowd ask
ing the price of stocks one minute ; and, the next,
turning to the list of killed and wounded ; and, the
next, inquiring again the price of stocks. Be his
eye never so clear, he would fail to detect the signs
of a great national struggle, either on the wharves
or in the busy marts. Only when, with a power
granted to angels alone, he should look into our
homes, would he discover the terrible shadow
which the god of war casts as he stalks . through
the world. Here, a young wife ; one who has
known the sacred glory and peace of wedded life
for a few short months only; who gave her all
without a murmur and without a foreboding ; sit
ting now by her lonely hearth, the fire gone out,

00- LOUISIANIANS.
and the fire in her heart gone out with it. She
sits weeping ; for she has a strange, vacant feel
ing in her soul, which nothing now on earth can
fill. She looks with eager eyes at something
which she thinks she must see ; but it is not there.
In sweet forgetfulness, she speaks aloud a loved
name ; but the sound of her own voice calls her
back to the reality : then she covers her face with
her hands, and weeps as only such as she can.
There, again, is one bent with years. She holds
in her trembling hand a letter ; and, as her eyes
are lifted to the great God who sees all his chil
dren, her lips murmur, " He was my only boy, and
now I am alone I " There, still again, in her own
room, apart from the family, sits a young girl.
She has known only the summer-time of life until
now ; and, as the hot tears fall thick and fast, the
angel who looks from his lofty poise sighs in sym
pathy, and whispers, in such sweet tones that the
echo falls upon the sad one's ear, " My child, the
good God doeth all things well."
And then the angel casts his eye from these
homes of sorrow to the distant fields of Virginia
or the West ; and there, lying under a tree, the
young husband is praying with his last breath for
her who is so soon to be a widow. And yonder,
lying on his back, cold and bloody, is the fair-haired
boy, whose last word was " Mother 1 " And yon-

LOUISIANIANS. 87
der, again, by that broken cannon, bleeds the brave
youth for whom the maiden weeps. He has taken
from his bosom a miniature ; and as he falls back,
giving his body to the earth, he presses the picture
to his lips. This is war, and all that we of the
North have ever known of it.
Not so in Louisiana. Every thing there reminds
you of its destructive power. Three years ago,
the river was alive with steamboats. By night,
as well as by day, the noise of their paddle-wheels
and the screaming of their whistles disturbed your
repose." The wharves and the levees groaned
with the burden of a great commerce. The streets
were filled with drays ; and the cursing crowd of
drivers gave evidence of plenty of business. Tl^
St. Charles was crowded with people from every
nation on the globe. But now you can hardly
recognize the place. A terrible and fatal palsy
has taken hold of the limbs of that giant city. You
can run your horse along the wharves and the
levee, and through the streets, without danger of
collision. It seems as though a plague had faUen
upon the doomed city, and aU the people had fled
in dismay.
The St. Charles is empty. Its vast drinking-
room, reminding you that the most important part
of a Southern hotel is the bar, echoes your steps
like a hall deserted. You may pass along the chief

88 LOUISIANIAJIS. ¦
business streets; and, on an average, not one store
in five will be open : and the few that are open
in the daytime close at dusk ; for the custom
will not warrant the necessary expenditure for
gas. I was, at first, strangely affected by this appear^
ance of universal stagnation. As I looked round
upon the desolation which everywhere prevailed,
I could not help crying out in pity, " Alas I Rome
is no longer Rome." It was a long time before I
could shake off this funereal gloom. I did get
bravely over it, however, by asking a few pertinent
questions. " Whos§ store is this ? "
^ " It was John Brugier's, sir."
" Why do you say was ? "
" Because he has packed up all his goods, and
gone beyond the lines."
The truth was, that every closed shutter was
the sign of a rebel ; and, as the closed shutters
were to the open windows as ten to one, I was
forcibly reminded that I was living in a city of
traitors, upon whose heels was just coming the
punishment of their great crime.
What is the meaning of these marks of fire on
the levees, and of those charred planks on the
river-bank? They are indications of the places
where thousands of cotton-bales were set on fire,

LOUISIANIANS. 89
a,nd steamboats and river-craft by the dozen, when
the Orleanists heard that Ben Butler was coming
up the river.
So the levees were empty, and there was no
trade on the river ; and, in consequence, the people
of the city were being put to great straits for a
living, because they all hated the old flag which
was coming proudly and victoriously up the
stream. I grew to be even glad of the deep gloom ; for it
seemed to me that the desolation was a richly mer
ited punishment. There was only one class that I
pitied, — the class that, left to act according to its
true instincts, will always be on the side of re
publicanism. The poorer people, those who are
termed weU-to-do,. and the laboring multitudes, —
these I greatly pitied. They wUl continue to suf
fer ; and large numbers must be supported by our
Government until that auspicious day when peace
restores to them the blessed privilege of earning
their daily bread.
It seems that the rebels were aware of the Union
proclivities of these people, and, even in the hurry
and bustle of defeat, did not fail to take their re
venge ; for, when the enemy's troops were about
to evacuate the place, there were many thousands
of hogsheads of sugar, and barrels of molasses, to
be destroyed. With large sledge-hammers, the men

90 LOUISIANIANS.
who were detailed for this duty drove the heads of
the barrels and hogshead^ in ; and, when the crowd
of poor came with their buckets to save a part of
the immense spoils, they were driven away at the
bayonet's point. This wanton destruction of pro
perty was simply a proof that the South were un
consciously committing suicide. They hate us, the
Yankees, not with an honorable, chivalrous hatred,
but with a petty spitefulness, which is the charac
teristic of a small nature engaged in an unworthy
cause. I saw no indications of that heavy gloom, that
sullen, lowering, portentous gloom, which fills
the heart of the patriot Pole when he feels the
tyranny of the Czar. I can conceive of a city
brooding in silence over real or fancied wrongs,
wrapped in affliction, and filling the atmosphere
of every street with most ominous murmurings ;
but you discover none of that massiye, frowning
earnestness in New Orleans. The dainty damsel
carefully gathers up her skirts as she goes by a
Union soldier, or wears a breastpin on which is
gaudily painted the rebel flag; the strong man,
standing at the corner of the street, mutters some
thing about the damned Yankees; the mob, at dead
of night, hurrah for Jeff Davis : that is all. Tiie
people of the city, once in a while, splutter a rebel
sentiment; but their secessionism is of the pouting.

LOUISIANIANS. 91
petulant sort, rather than earnest : it is mean and
poor-spirited, not grand or noble. It is chiefly
shown by the wealthiest in complaints that they
cannot run their plantations, and get their usual
harvest ; and by all others in deceiving the cus
toms, and smuggling goods beyond our lines,
whereby a mint of money is made.
My feeling is, that the poetry and romance of
secessionism are all gone. Instead of gloom, which
may conceal the most devoted patriotism, you find,
among the planters, only disappointment. I have
talked with hundreds of them ; and, after spending
five minutes in discussing the right of the matter,
they have invariably ended by hoping that affairs
will be so arranged that the " plantations " and the
" niggers " can be rendered profitable. It was
because the price of negroes was gradually getting
so high that the gain on the crop was materially
lessened, — dollars and cents, — that all, except the
crafty politicians, gave their support to the war.
Secessionism was little else than an immense finan
cial speculation, covered up by a vast cumulus of
nebulous rhetoric about Southern rights. The only
right they cared for was the right to turn human
blood into bullion. They chafed, not at any harsh
laws which we had imposed, but against the hu
mane sentiment of the age as represented by the
people of the Free States. They openly confess

92 LOUISIANIANS.
that the independence of the South would have
opened the African slave-trade. This would have
brought the negro's price down to eight hundred
dollars, instead of sixteen as it was two years ago ;
and then the profits of the crop would have been
greater. If you leave the city, and take the level road to
Baton Rouge, — a hundred and thirty miles up the
river, — the desolation becomes all the more
marked. There is not a single planter in the de
partment who has not personally suffered through
this war. Their crops of sugar-cane, yielding from
five hundred to a thousand hogsheads of sugar, are
still standing in February. ; and there is no hope of
saving them, for the frost has been at work on
them. I have ridden through miles of plantations,
from which only a few hogsheads of sugar had been
made. Cane is standing now in March ; thousands
and tens of thousands of acres of it. Thus the crop
of the past year is nothing ; and that of the coming
year will be the same. The planters' negroes have
all fied; their horses have aU been stolen, their mules
and teams have all been confiscated. They stand
in the midst of their great plantations, with the
interest on a heavy mortgage staring them in
the face, perfectly powerless. Can they get their
niggers back? Yes, if they choose to come, — not
otherwise ; and then they are apprentices, and no

LOUISIANIANS. 93
longer slaves. Can they recover their teams and
mules ? Not one. Fifty thousand Union soldiers
are somewhere within a hundred miles of them ;
and. their baggage must have transportation, and
their food be carried from camp to camp. Uncle
Sam, with more than his usual foresight and seve
rity, has pressed into the service of his soldiers
the whole mule-force of the department. What,
then, is left for the planters to do ? How can they
pay the demands of angry creditors against their
estate ?
These are questions a hundred gentlemen have
asked me. I have had only one answer, and that
was suggested by Dr. Johnson. One day, a wretched
vagabond, after exhausting all other arguments in
hopes of getting the longed-for charity, cried out
surlily, —
" But I must live, sir."
" I don't recognize any such necessity," replied
the gruff doctor, and marched on.
" I must carry on my plantation," said one of
these sufferers, who are well aware that they are
paying a heavy price for the luxury of rebellion.
" Why must you ? " I retorted.
" Why must I ? Because, if I don't, I can't pay
my debts."
" WeU, suppose you do not pay your debts : what
of it, sir?"

94 LOUISIANIANS.
" What of it ? " said my irate friend, —=- " what of
it, sir ? Why, I shall starve, and all my family will
be reduced to poverty. Three years ago, I was
worth a million ; now, not a picayune."
" Exactly," I replied ; " and what,, pr^, does the
United-States Government care, whether you, who
for two years have stood in opposition to it, are
worth a picayune or not ? If you are a beggar, put
it down as the legitimate result of rebelUon."
Dollars and cents.
That man voted for the act of secession, and
grew eloquent as he dilated on the glories of
Southern independence, and detailed the tyrannies
of the North. He gave five thousand doUars to the
cause, and publicly pledged his life. Now he is
willing to take a round hundi"ed oaths of aUegiance
for the sake of a few mules and teams.
The war is really a terrible burden to the South.
We are afflicted in our sympathies and our affec
tions : they have, superadded to this, a heavy afflic
tion in the pocket. Their whole country is running
wild : it is impossible to hope for any crops. So
the enemy "either sits down in despair, passive,
because powerless ; or, enraged, cuts the levee,
and floods and destroys the plantations for miles
around. It will require many, many years to re
store the country between New Orleans and Baton
Rouge to its ancient position of plenty and thrift.

LOUISIANIANS. 95
But, besides aU this, there is the work of the
cannon-ball to be reckoned. Not only is the trade
of the entire department checked, and not only are
its crops destroyed, but its towns, many of them,
have been more or less injured. Baton Rouge has
lost its magnificent State House : nothing but the
outer frame of brick-work remains. The splendid
statue of Washington (by Powers) was saved ; and
that is aU. The costly furniture and the elegant
library, said to have been one of the finest in the
country, were completely demolished. Its works
of art, collected at vast expense, — the result of
many years of labor, — all have disappeared.
Within those walls, in 1861, were heard words of
burning eloquence from some of the most gifted
sons of the State, inciting the people of Louisiana
to rebellion. Men who had been taught to revere
the past history of republicanism now dared to
point the finger of scorn at it. The old flag, which
had floated over every sea, protecting^ Southern
commerce ; that had been won by the mingled hfe-
blood of Northerner and Southerner, who forgot
partisan feeling, and fought for human liberty, —
the old flag was laughed to bitter scorn, and tossed
into the dirt. This was done in the State capitol,
which now lies in ruins. Yes ; it was done in the
presence of that statue, which Northern genius had
carved, of him who was not only a Virginian, but

96 LOUISIANIANS.
an American. Surely they must have known that
the sacrilege would be avenged.
In 1862, the old flag met the new flag face to
face. The battle was fought within the very
shadow of that senate-chamber. Williams bravely
led on his men, and fell. Nothing daunted, CahiU
and Dudley, who are every inch soldiers, gathered
their forces, and, making a determined onset while
the buUets were flying like hail-stones, drove the
new flag away, and planted the old flag — the only
flag of the American — in its accustomed place
over the State capitol. It must have waved proudly
there while the stars and bars crept behind the
horizon in the distance. But all was not over, even
then. The recreant building was fired ; and, while
the flames were spreading, the one thing that was
saved was the statue that had been a silent witness
of the treason which had been plotted for many
months. It seemed then as though justice was
satisfied. *The framework of the building stands
to-day, looking gloomily down on the river, — a
wreck of former grandeur, and a prophecy of the
end of the Rebellion.
The little town of Donaldsonville, too, is a suf
ferer. Our gunboats were frequently fired upon
by the gueriUas belonging to the place. Gen. But
ler bore the outrage until forbearance ceased to
be a virtue ; and then assured the people, that, if it

LODISIAJSIANS. 97
were again committed, he would shell the town.
It was again committed ; and, I need not add, the
gunboats did their duty. It afterwards became
necessary to get rid of a large number of brick
buildings which stood in the way of our artillery ;
and, consequently, they were destroyed. There ia
about half of the original town left. Many of the
inhabitants have fled ; and, were it not for the pre
sence of" our troops, the place would be lonely
• enough. All who had the power and th6 money
fled at once to the rebel lines. Those left were
mostly poor Creoles, Spanish, French, and German,
who were almost to a man Unionists. They have
been of great service to us as guides, and in giving
us valuable information.
This class of Louisianians, the Creoles, is made up
of people whose peculiarities demand a somewhat
extended notice. There is the poor and the rich
Creole. The rich one is, perhaps, the bitterest
enemy to the cause of the North that can be found.
He is virulent in his hatred, and will stop at no
bounds. He wiU utter his treason in spite of the
law. You may take his slaves, his teams, his crop,
his house, and leave him a beggar ; still he wiU not
flinch. He is the enemy of the flag, and glories in
it. He is the only man in the South, the politician
and demagogue excepted, who is really willing to
sacrifice every thing for the sake of the cause. He
8

98 LOUISIANIANS.
was born on the soil. He has hot blood in his
veins. He is full of ignorance and prejudice. 'The.
chances are, that he is not a person of any educa
tion. He has not the undisputed entrie into the
highest circles. He is regarded, socially, with sus
picion by his wealthy neighbors, and with some
thing like envy and hatred by the poor. He is,
generally, a hard, pinching master ; a sycophant in
the presence of those higher, a tyrant over those
below him. He knows nothing of the North ; for .
he reads little. He cannot" calmly discuss the is
sues of the hour ; for he has never thought of them.
He has given himself to the war, because of an
inherent hatred of abolitionists.
"When you talk to another of the institution, he
will blandly and plausibly argue concerning its
divinity, assert its missionary influence, and adduce
facts to prove that free labor will never succeed at
the South ; but, beneath it all, you see that the
man has twisted himself into such a belief. His
instincts are all the other way. His interest has
warped him. Change the direction of the interest,
and, presto 1 you have a good abolitionist.
Not so with the Creole. A love of slavery is in
the marrow of his bones. He says he has so many
" head of niggers," as he speaks of his cattle. He
never talks to you of slavery as a missionary soci
ety. That is the stronghold of one who does not

LOUISIANIANS. 99
believe what he asserts. He never offers any sta
tistics to prove that free labor is impracticable.
He stands on a platform beneath which are no such
subterfuges. He simply says, —
" The nigger, sir, was intended by Almighty
God to be the slave of the white man. He isn't a
man : he belongs to a lower order of being."
" But, sir," you commence to reply.
" There are no ' huts ' about it. I have lived
fiftj' years with them. I know them through and
through ; and nothing is more evident to a sane
man, than that the nigger is one grade only above
the ape."
This is refreshing. There is no chance for argu
ment. You are simply dealing with a fanatic of
the worst and most unreasonable kind. He is wor
shipping his ebony idol with all the blind devotion
of the East Indian. He is not a man of the nine
teenth century, but shows all the characteristics
of a semi-barbarous age. He resists the Govern
ment at every point.
Just beyond CarroUton is an immense and mag
nificent estate owned by one of these Creoles.
His annual yield of sugar is fifteen hundred hogs
heads. He might have taken the oath of allegiance,
and thus saved his property; but he would not.
The work of depredation 'commenced ; but he bore
it without a murmur. First we took his wagons.

100 LOUISIANIANS.
harnesses, and mules : he said nothing, but scowled
most awfully. Next we emptied his stables of
horses for the cavalry service ; he did not have
even a pony left, and was compelled to trudge
along on foot : still nothing was said. Next we
took his entire crop, ground it in his own sugar-
house, used his barrels for the molasses, and his
hogsheads for the sugar, and marked the head of
each " U. S. : " not a murmur. Then his negroes,
three hundred and more, house-servants and aU,
took it into their woolly heads to come within our
camp-lines. The Creole wds most completely
stripped : still he stood in the midst of the ruins,
damning Abe Lincoln, and wishing that he had
eight instead of four sons in the rebel army.
He is our only enemy in the South for whom I
have any respect. He is the only man who is ter
ribly in earnest. He has thrown every thing into
the dice-box, and is wiUing to meet the result.
While others are intriguing to get from the com-
manding general some new concession, he sits
under his gallery, moody, ugly, dangerous. In
degenerate times like these, an earnest friend is
the best thing to see ; but the next best thing
is an earnest enemy.
The poor Creoles, the only Union men of the
South, except the negroes', are an entirely different
kind of people. They are the social victims of the

LOUISIANIANS. 101
institution. They are looked down upon and trod
den upon by every other class in society.
" Why should I love the South ? " said one to me
in a moment of confidence ; " and why should I
uphold slavery ? . I am a poor man, and there is no
possibility of my ever becoming any thing else. I
am an overseer ; but Mr. B  will not let me go
into his parlor, nor wiU he allow me to sit at his
table. I am just as much a slave as though I were
black." " But suppose slavery were abolished ? "
" Why, then society would be different. Public
opinion would help me. It would not be simply
slaves and masters : it would be the wealthy, the
working-class, and the poor. There is no ladder
now up which I can climb : there would be one
then." He knew just where he stood, and the reason
why he stood there.
Again: when our forces were on the march
towards Opelousas, I rode over one of the magnifi
cent prairies to a small white house, which offered
a quiet retreat for the night. The proprietor was a
Creole, who owned a farm of some two hundred
acres, and fifty or sixty head of cattle. When, at
nightfaU, I seated myself on the gallery, I noticed
that he was walking back and forth in great trepi
dation.

102 LOUISIANIANS.
" Mr, Botin, what is the trouble ? "
" Oh, dear! oh, dear ! I was only damning Gov,
Mouton ! "
" That is good Christian work, certainly ; and I
hope you will find relief in it. But, prithee, why
do you damn that "good rebel ? "
" Because I voted for him, and he has ruined
me," he replied very dolefully. '
" Why did you vote for him ? "
" Oh ! we poor Creoles couldn't help it. He got
us all in a large hall, and told us he would get us
rid of the United States, and we should all be rich
men. I made objections against many of his mea
sures ; but his friends only said, ' Oh I he will fix
all that when he is Governor : ' so we voted for
him, and now we are ruined."
It is easy to see that- the State of Louisiana was
lost because there were no newspapers to regulate
public opinion, and no public education, which
teaches the poor man to think for himself.
" Oh ! the candidate will fix all that when he
is elected," would not satisfy the New-England
farmer. I have never been so surprised in my life as I
was at the discovery of the vast amount of igno
rance among the poorer classes. You may travel
twenty mUes from almost any central point, and
find neither schoolhouse nor church. You may

LOUISIANIANS. . 103
enter twenty houses of small farmers, and not find
a single book. The humble classes neither read,
write, nor think. Indeed, the impression one re
ceives in going among the peasantry of the South
is, that tJiey belong to a past age, or to one of the
older countries, and certainly not to this most bril
liant century, which boasts of nothing so much as
of its unlimited means of education.
Once in a while, society is called upon to pay the
score. Near Franklin, or within a circle of fifty
miles from that centre, are some three hundred
Arizonians, — a population that could exist only in
the South. They are owners of small farms, igno
rant, unprincipled, treacherous. Everybody lifts
his hand against them, and their hands strike at
¦everybody's face. Lately, they joined in solemn
league to befriend each other in case of difficulty,
to resist the conscript act, and to live on their
neighbors. They were a motley crew, all good
shots, and all determined not to enter the army.
One night, four fine horses were stolen from the
ample stables of George Barker. After great
trouble, they were traced to the humbler barn of
one John Solin. When the said John was asked
how he came by the horses, he quietly said that he
had owned them about five years ; and, to prove
his assertion, he brought them out, and exhi
bited his private mark on the shoulder of each.

104 LOUISIANIANS.
Of course, George Barker was thunder-struck.
He had supposed, that, when the property was
found, the poor devil of an Arizonian would go
down on his knees, beg off, and promise never to
do, or rather be found doing, the like again.
After some parley, the said John was marched
off to jaU ; and, the next day, four neighbors
solemnly swore that they recognized the horses
by well-known marks, and that they belonged to
George Barker. Judge of the surprise, not only
of George, but also of his four rich neighbors,
when the placid John brought into court twenty
Arizonians, each of whom most solemnly swore
that they, too, recognized the said horses, and that,
to their certain knowledge, John Solin had owned
them during the last five years I
The members of this society would have sworn
any thing, however preposterous. They did not
know the value of an oath, nor did they have the
slightest fear of perjury.
The court was reluctantly compelled to decide
that the visual organs of George and his four rich
neighbors were out of order, while placid John
carried his noble horses home in triumph.
These marauders rendered the country unsafe for
many miles around. At last, when the whole police
force of the district were set on their track, they
retired to an island of upland in the middle of a

LOUISIANIANS. 105
floating prairie. It was a perfect, natural strong
hold. This floating prairie consists of finely-knit
and knotted roots, about eighteen inches in thick
ness, which have entirely covered the surface of a
lake. Cut through this mat, and you come to war
ter, as in the North you cut through the ice with
the same result. It is dangerous to travel over
these prairies, unless you are well acquainted with
the path. As you walk along, the unsteady sod
gives beneath your feet ; and, if you should fall
through, there is no hope. No horse or carriage
can pass over them.
It was to such a place as this that the Arizonians
retired : and if, by chance, some luckless police
man fell into their hands, he was treated as a natu
ral enemy, and put to death ; or if one of the party
ventured home for a few days, and was caught, no
bribes nor threats could induce him to discover to
the officers of justice the firm paths over the float
ing prairie. He might, for a stipulated sum, pro
mise to do this, and would lead an armed band
hither and thither until night came, and the whole
party were worn out ; then quietly slip away on
some path known only to himself to laugh with his
comrades, while the duped officers were left to
enjoy their chagrin at defeat.
Vigilance-committees were organized to take the .
law into their own hands. But little has been
9

106 LOUISIANIANS.
accomplished thus far. The Arizonians still ply
their trade, and stand as faithfully by each other
as ever did Spanish bandits or Italian highway
men. - This account of the Arizonians is literally true ;
and I am willing to assert, that it is an anomaly
in American society, which is possible only in the
South. Nor is it possible there, because it is an
agricultural region ; and because, therefor&, the
means of education are limited. So is the West
agricultural ; and yet it is impossible to suppose
the existence of such a society in Northern Indi
ana or in Wisconsin. It could exist only among a
people who have failed to erect a standard of right,
and whose public opinion is not moral or high-
toned. There is a little colony of this same class of peo
ple at the Pass, at the mouth of the Mississippi.
They are among the most ignorant, debased, and
vile set of men to be found on the earth. The
other day, one of my friends, a Northern man,
whose vessel was detained for some time at the Pass
by stress of weather, conceived the benevolent de
sign of speaking to these people upon the subject
of religion. I should shock my readers, were I to
attempt to describe the perfect mental and spiritual
desolation which existed among these people. StUl,
one anecdote must not be lost. After my friend

LOUISIANIANS. 107
had talked with a number of stragglers, he entered
one of the low huts, and began to converse with
the ancient dame. Soon four sons came in, and
joined in the conversation ; then the old man, the
patriarch. He was the only one who made any
pretensions to know any thing of God or duty.
My friend spoke of the Lord. He told of his
sufferings, and at last exclaimed, —
" And it was he, the dear Son of God, you know,
who died that we all might live."
The family all stared. The patriarch alone
failed to be startled. Leaning forward, and put
ting his right hand behind his right ear to enable
him to catch every sound, he cried out, —
" Mister ! did you say it was the Son of God who
died?" " Yes, my friend ; and he died on the cross."
" You are sure it was* the Son? "
"Yes. Why?"
" Oh, nothin' I only I allers thought it was the
old man I"
This anecdote is sacrilegious ; but it bespeaks a
degree of moral depravity and of woful ignorance
such as can be found in only two places, — in the
South and in Central Africa.
All the Creoles in the State, who are worth less
than twenty thousand dollars, desire the success of
the Northern arms. They were carried into the

108 LOUISIANIANS.
war per force, and it has only ruined them. Their
sons have been conscripted, and are deserting
every day ; hoping for nothing so much as to get
back to the quietness of the farm. They will tell
you plainly, that the war is for the protection of
the rich planters, and that they are unwiUing to
risk their lives in any such cause. To prov.e this,
we have but to look at a few facts. It is beyond
question, that when the matter of secession was
discussed, and the people of Louisiana were ap
pealed to, to follow in the footsteps of her illustrious
sister. South Carolina, one hundred and fifty-eight
delegates were sent to the State Convention ; and,
of that number, a very large majority had pledged
themselves to-the. people to vote for a continuance
in the Union. They were sent for that special
purpose. This is sufficient to show how the body
of voters felt at that critical' moment. Again: when
the first vote was taken in the State Convention,
it resulted as the people desired it should, and
greatly to the chagrin of that nondescript biped
known as a " lobbyist." The bipeds were not,
however, discouraged. They knew with whom
they had to deal. One after another, the delegates
began to see the other side ; and the loyalists were
evidently losing ground. Money, promises, and
threats were doing their work ; and yet, when
the vote was taken, which was expected to be

LOUISIANIANS. 109
final, and when the New-Orleans editors were so
sure of the result that they announced the passjage
of the act of secession by an overwhelming majo
rity, and the people were in consternation, at that
very time the real vote stood three majority in
favor of the Union. It took the lobbyists some
three weeks to buy the requisite number of votes
to put the matter beyond reasonable question.
This is the way Louisiana went out of the Union.
It was only by a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull
altogether, on the part of the slave-owners and
their pimps, against the feelings, the sense of jus
tice, and the patriotism of the people.
After that, they held meetings in every village,
and succeeded by fables and lies in imbittering
the mind of the poorer classes against the North.
Had there been a middle estate, firm, independent,
thoughtful, " who knew their rights, and, knowing,
dared maintain," as there is in. the North, Louisi
ana would to-day be true and loyal ; but because
slavery allows no middle estate, and has precluded
the possibility of popular education, the credulous
people have been utterly ruined.
I will venture to say, that of the fifty-six hun
dred who answered to their names at roU-call at
Berwick's "Bay, when our forces chased the enemy
into Texas, more than one thousand fell behind
their column on the march to Opelousas for the

110 LOUISIANIANS.
sole purpose of being taken. They were mostly
conscripts, and joined the army with the intention
of deserting at the first opportunity, I had a long
chat with many a squad that had been sent to the
rear ; and they told me that they were sick and
tired of the army, and that they were glad to be
taken, because they could go back to their families
and farms.
" Yes ; but, boys, haven't you any patriotism ?
Aren't you willing to fight for the glorious South ? "
" We are not fighting for the South. We have
never been disturbed. We always got along weU
enough. The truth is, we are all fighting for the
rich planters, and not for ourselves."
" Yes,'.' said another, " we are fighting for
the niggers ; and their masters hire them to the
Government, to work on trenches, for eighteen dol
lars a month ; while we sleep out of doors, and get
nothing to eat, and clothe ourselves, for eleven
dollars." " They are terribly afraid a nigger will get
killed," said another; "and then they lose their
money. When there is prospect of a fight, they
take all the niggers off out of harm's way : but
they don't care for us ; we didn't cost any thing.
So, for one, I am going to care for myself. I only
hope the Yankees will kUl every planter in the
State. Then we shall have peace."

LOUISIANIANS. Ill
I never expected to hear one native-bom in
the South say that this RebeUion is simply due to
slaveholders and politicians.
Many of these men have taken up arms on our
side, and thus proved the truth of my criticism.
There are, I believe, four regiments made up of
those who have, in some way or other, been perse
cuted by the South. They consist of poor Creoles,
generally deserters, and Spanish, French, and Ger-
man citizens, many of whom took to the woods,
and lived there for weeks, in order to avoid the
conscription act. These form an important portion
of the troops in the department, and deserve par
ticular mention. They are the most savage-looking
set of men I ever laid eyes on. Their morale is, of
course, very low ; but, with strict discipline, they
will make splendid soldiers. They are just such
men as compose the regular army, — persons who
are desperate, and who have been urged by some
unusual fortune to this step. In the slight ser
vices which they have as yet been called upon to
perform, they have shown great promptness and
willingness. The First Louisiana particularly attracted my
attention. Twenty-seven different nationalities are
represented in it. Every spot on the globe, from
China to Peru, seems to have sent its quota to fill
up the ranks.

112 LOUISIANIANS,
Here is the poor Chinaman, with his half-moon
eyes, a contented body, into whose mind the idea
of preferment never comes. Here, again, is the
sharp Jew, who has travelled over the whole of
Europe, and will talk to you in any one of a dozen
languages ; or, if you prefer, he is ready to barter
with you for your uniform. There, standing against
the tree, is a tall, stalwart Hungarian. His bushy
beard covers his face ; but it is rumored that he has
been through a dozen battles already, and knows
enough of military science to command a regi
ment r still he is only a corporal. There, again, is
a rough Teuton, who, like Nelson, does not know
who Fear is. A dozen like him have been mounted ;
and, when there is any scouting to be done, they
are always ready. Yonder, again, pounding in the
mortar with his bfg pestle, is a tough, wiry little
fellow, with nothing about him that would attract
attention ; yet I am told that he carries " Euripi
des " in his pocket as a vade-mecum, and that he is
thoroughly posted in all the branches of medical
science. These men have been through strange
experiences ; and could you sit by the side of each
for an hour, when the right mood was on him,
he could tell you stories more like fiction than
reality. The regiment is. a queer conglomerate. There
are those who doubt their value as troops on the

LOUISIANIANS. 113
field ; but their officers place great trust in them.
It may be that few of them are fired with as warm
enthusiasm for the cause as Northern soldiers:
stUl they all meet on one platform, — implacable
hatred of the rebels. It is a feeling which arises
greatly from the fact, that they have suffered im
pressment ; which has been increased by the other
fact, of desertion. It resembles, in many respectSj
the old feeling between the Jacobins and the Loy
alists in France. They have been kept down by
the usages of society. They have chafed at 'it j
and now the chance is offered, not only of success
ful resistance, but also of revenge. My own feel
ing is, that they will fight like tigers ; that they
will commit any depredation, and every conceivable
one, on the foe.
On the whole, I was not much affected by that
awe with which we are told by many to approach
the gentleman of the South. I have spent months
upon the plantations of the State, and have met the
planters, very many of them, on friendly terms, in
the midst of their own households ; and I confess
to great disappointment. I am willing to aver as
the result of my experience, that there is no class
of society in the South which is equal in its cul
ture, its refinement of manner and of taste, and its
enjoyment of life, to the same- class in the North.
After the immense number of traditions which

114 LOUISIANIANS.
have been handed down to us, each lauding the
Southerner as a perfect Chesterfield in outward
demeanor, and a prodigal in his open-handed gene
rosity, I may seem somewhat rash in making this
statement. I can only say, that if you will ap
proach the idol, and examine closely, you wiU find
that the marble look is but varnish after aU, and that
the thing is made of common wood.
I wiU say further, that the planters of the South
are not equal as a body, from any point of view, to
the well-to-do merchants of the North. I know that
such a statement is rank heresy. From our child
hood, we have been taught to think differently. I
remember, that, years ago, this matter puzzled me.
I put in the one scale all the d priori arguments I
could collect, — that a society, in which the indivi
duals were each insulated, must, logically, degene
rate ; that it is not favorable to literature, religion,
or manliness ; and, in the other scale, I placed this
weighty public opinion. The former always kicked
the beam. But now I know that my logic was cor
rect, and that the world's rhetoric was false.
Indeed, why should this not be true ? There is
not the same rivalry in the Sputh that there is with
us. ¦ The influence of the whole life and of all the
surroundings of the planter is to dull him, to warp
his judgment, to make him selfish. He lives in and
on himself. On the other hand, the Northerner,

LOUISIANIANS. 115
coming in daily contact with men engaged in con
stant rivalries with him, becomes not simply self-
reliant and prejudiced, as the Southerner does, who
lives in necessary solitude, but self-reliant and
generous. He is well posted on aU matters. He
reads, thinks, and talks a great deal.
Here is another side of the Southern character,
which was exposed by my intimate relations with
the planters. I have always been led to suppose
that the Yankee is peculiar, in that he will sacrifice
more for a silver dollar thaft any other biped of the
genus homo. In strong contrast stands the open-
handed and large-hearted Southerner. " There is
nothing small south of Mason and Dixon's line,"
says the copperhead. So the shriveUed Yankee
stands opposite the chivalrous Southerner ; the one
giving a three-cent piece, the other a bright eagle,
to the poor beggar-girl.
I do not doubt that the Southerner spends an
eagle to every three-cent piece which the Yankee
expends in the cause of street-girls ; though the
gift is hardly one that would be sanctioned by
the Church. But, in real generosity, the South
erner is far behind the Northerner. The South has
acquired a reputation for a reckless carelessness of
money; hut it is all built on the fact, that the peo
ple never take any change for a picayune. There
is a certain devil-may-care way about them, which

116 LOUISIANIANS.
gives you the impression that they never saw any
thing so small as a one-dollar bill. They are always
turning criticism away from themselves by letting
their wit and sarcasm fly at honest Northerners.
Once a year, they gather together all their new
clothes and all their jewelry, and take some North
ern hotel by assault ; run up large bills for car
riages and wine ; throw down a quarter for a ten-
cent cigar ; and, when the counter-jumper offers
the change, turn up their noses, as though it was
a vulgar habit to take change for any thing. That
is the way they get their reputation. But look in
on them during the rest of the year. For nine
months, a planter is on his plantation. The nearest
neighbor is from two to five miles distant. He has
only the tame excitement which a farmer's life
allows. He has three hundred negroes. He gives
them, for a house, a hut, which no man can live in
two 3'ears, without becoming thproughly demoral
ized. He gives them, for food, so many ears of corn,
which they are to shell, and pound into meal, in a
mortar made of the trunk of a tree, hollowed out ;
and feo many poiinds of bacon, so hard that a re
spectable dog would refuse to eat it. These negroes
are owned — I use fhe word in its broadest sense,
as the proportion of mulattoes on every planta
tion abundantly proves — by the master, who can,
when the caprice moves him, or when he gets up

LOUISIANIANS. 117
of a morning out of temper through the last niglit'a
wine, give them fifty or a hundred lashes. They
work from early morning to late evening, and
hardly ever get any pay for service rendered. The
master makes the first outlay for his hands. After
that, their cost is merely nominal. I never j'et
have seen a field-hand who was not in rags, and I
have seen from twenty to thirty thousand : so the
cost of clothing cannot be much. Now, I would
like to know where the chivalry, high-mindedness,
and other qualities of mind and heart, which are
claimed for Southerners, are to be discovered. So
far as my experience goes, — and it is abundantly
corroborated by the testimony of the provost-mar
shals of every parish between Fort Jackson and
Baton Rouge, — a more shrewd and grasping po
pulation cannot be found anywhere. To be sure,
there are honorable exceptions. The South pro
duces many polished gentlemen ; but when it is
asserted, as it has been by Vice-President Stephens,
that the Southerners are a race of gentlemen, I
must confess, that, if it is so, the planters of Loui
siana and the prisoners which have been taken
have become greatly demoralized since 1861.
If they were really a generous, chivalrous, and
patriotic people, fighting only for the sacred cause
of liberty, instead of a fanatical people, completely
demoralized by their social institutions, would it be

118 LOUISIANIANS.
possible for them to adopt such measures as they
have adopted towards unoffending Union citizens?
I can conceive of a populace completely thriUed by
a single purpose, who should frown out of sight,
or at least into deep silence, all who opposed
their purpose ; I can conceive of the sweUing
tide of secessionism pouring through the streets,
and compelling every Union man to keep within
doors : but it is beyond belief, that any people,
not demoralized, should use means so barba
rous to rid themselves of obnoxious individuals.
Only in a community where the moral standard
indicates zero can such outrages be committed
as those which have been well authenticated.
Secessionism seems simply to have given license
to all the hitherto-restrained passions of society ;
to have crazed sober-minded men ; and to have
turned the community so completely upside-down,
that it has lost its balance : and its history is
being written by its rufflans, its wUd, untamed
hoosiers, rather than by its heroes and sages.
There are scenes, which are undoubted, so dis
graceful, that they stamp with infamy any commu
nity wherein they have occurred. I know, that, in
times of revolution, one ought not to expect the
same restraint which is the best blessing of peace.
I know, that, in the last century, there were scenes
enacted which will never reflect honor upon us.

LOUISIANIANS. '119
Ruffians were not wanting, who used the con
fusion of the times as a cover for their own evil
practices. But we all know the severity which
Burr in Westchester visited upon the^e scoun
drels ; and yet their crime consisted only in break
ing open private houses, and robbing the inmates.
It was robbery, whose incentive was simply a thirst
for gain.
In the present case,. the act is different, as is also
the motive. It is not the simple plunder of private
property which entails such disgrace on the South
ern cause : it is the brutal, yes, fiendish treatment
of old men, and even of women and children.
Scenes have been enacted in some of the Southern
States, which would .have called a blush to the
faces of the French populace in 1789. Is it thus,
I ask, that the chivalry show their love of inde
pendence ?• Are they not satisfied with the common
excitements of camp-life, that they must ferret out
like bloodhounds the old man who spent his youth
with the giants of the glorious past, and who dares
to speak his mind to the pygmies of the inglorious
present? Are there not Yankees enough to kill,
that they must satisfy their thirst for blood by tor
turing women and children ? Is it patriotism, is it
loyalty to any thing but the infernal institution,
which prompts them to such valorous deeds 'I
There is a spitefulness, a rancor, a thirst for ven-

120 ' LOUISUNIANS.
geance, in the Southern heart, which is very hard
to account for.
I had occasion, in January last, to visit some
hundred ^r more Texans, who had succeeded in
escaping to our lines. Most of them were from
Houston or Austin, owners of cattle and farms.
" Why did you not remain quietly at home ? " I
said to one of them.
" Because the rebels burned down our houses,
and threatened to hang us if we did not leave
within four and twenty hours."
" But they would not have hung you."
One of them, a bright youth, stepped up to me,
and said with quivering lips, —
" They did hang my old father ; and I was com
pelled to look on, and see it done."
I have never seen men more incensed. They
had lost every cent of their property, brought with
them only what they stood in, led their wives hun
dreds of miles through by-woods and swamps,
and only asked to be led back in force. Their
cheeks burned ; for each had his separate tale of
persecution. Their lips quivered ; and, as they
cursed the secessionists, their oaths seemed to
come up from the core of their hearts.
A dozen men in a village meet in a convenient
bar-room, and constitute themselves a vigilance-
committee. After having filled themselves with

LOUISUNIANS. "121
¦whiskey, they sally forth to the house of some un
fortunate victim. Him they find in the midst of
his family. They enter, and proceed on their un
hallowed mission. The father is, perhaps, brutally
shot in the presence of his wife and little ones.
His wife and daughters are polluted by the touch
of these fiends, and can never hold up their heads
in honor again. They are turned from their own
doors, and look back from the neighboring hiU
upon the fiery scene of desolation and the grave
of a husband and a father. What, I ask, will the
future historian say of such things? He cannot
blind himself to them. They are not scattered so
far apart that he can ignore them : they cluster
about the villages of every State, — lurid fiames of
crime. And what can we say of the people in
whose midst such things are tolerated ? Could
they happen in any one of the Free States ? Not
even the excess of ruffianism which swept through
Kansas could rouse the free part of that State to
such infamous deeds. The glory belongs to the
South alone. It is only the chivalry, when waging
war to defend an institution which has completely
demoralized and ruined them, who can quench all
pity, and all pure love of woman, and call that
patriotism which others call infamy.
One of those atrocities, which serve as thermo
meters to show that the moral mercury is far out
10

122 LOUISUNIANS,
of sight and below the freezing-point, was com
mitted almost in our very presence. Col. D wight
had been sent from Opelousas, where the main
body of the army had bivouacked, to Washington,
some six miles beyond. We had met with no
resistance. The inhabitants, quietly though sul
lenly, submitted to the Federal triumph. It
became necessary to send a messenger from head
quarters to communicate with the general. Capt.
Dwight, a young man of great promise, of quiet
dignity of character, and of sterling integrity, was
chosen for the task. It should have been a task
attended with no danger whatever. The country
through which he was to travel — and there was
but the high-road to ride in — would, under ordi
nary circumstances and among a civilized people,
be as safe as the turnpike from Boston to Brook-
line. So little did he apprehend danger, that he
took no weapon whatever. He had advanced
about half-way, when he struck some woods, and
was hurrying on, when three men appeared in the
middle of the road, and commanded a " halt."
Reining up his horse, he demanded their business. •
They gave some insolent reply ; when he saw the
predicament he was in, and, supposing that he had
fallen into an ambush, said quietly, —
"WeU, I have no means of defending myself,
and must yield as your prisoner ; " at the same
time, alighting from bis horse.

LOUISIANIANS. 123
" We don't take any prisoners. Kill the damned
Yankee 1 " was the reply.
At this, one of the ruffians drew a pistol, and
shot Dwight in. the leg ; then another fired, killing
him instantly. It was a brutal, ruffianly, unjustifia-'
ble murder. It was done in cold blood, and by
men who knew what they were about. It was an
act that is possible only in a community whence
manliness and all the chivalry have long since fled,
and only the most debased passions have supplied
their place ; and yet this is not an insulated in
stance of cruelty. They are scattered all along
the bloody track of this war. They are omnipo
tent witnesses against Southern society. They
teU us that the war has not come an hour too soon.
Reform is needed ; and the war is the besom
which is to sweep the filth from the Southern
house. Every thing that I have seen makes me sure
that the cause of the North will triumph. It is
4he cause of God and of mankind. There is inhe
rent in Southern society, and in the machinery in
motion to accomplish the desired result, the pro
phecy of failure. No people ever disturbed a
nation with so little cause. No people ever re
sorted to so many artifices to support their alleged
rights. I feel hopeful that the beginning of the
end is at hand. The Confederacy is pretty well

124 LOUISUNIANS.
worn out. It is now clearly enough proved that
the heart of the people is being gradually loosened
from the influence of the large land-owners and
the politicians, and wiU be ready in good time to
open itself to a holier reverence for the old flag,
outside whose benignant shadow it has never
known peace or joy.
Let but the North be still a unit, a magnificent
unit; let it be patient a little longer; let it keep
up its faith in the Providence that is leading us
through this struggle ; let it demand that all its
ministers of vengeance shall act with promptness
and energy, not seeking to conciliate, but deter
mined to conquer ; let it pour out its wealth a
little longer, and tell its sons to tarry yet a little
while on the bloody field ; let, in one word, the
•whole North act with decision, and a firm, unwar
vering belief in the ultimate triumph of republic
anism, — and the clouds will be sure to roll away ;
the good old flag, the flag of Washington and of
liberty, covered with powder and glory, will wave
proudly over a people who have been tried with
fire and the sword, and found faithful.

THE NEGRO. . 125

CHAPTER IV,
the negro.
AFTER a long day's hard riding over a road
made infinitely dusty by an intermina
ble wagon-train, I came upon a house which
seemed to promise a good night's rest for man
and beast. I was hungry as well as tired; and
though I indulged in the faint hope of fresh meat
and flour-bread, and a cup of real Mocha, instead
of that wretched counterfeit made out of burnt
sugar, in which the members of the Confederacy
so largely indulge since the blockade, I neverthe
less was morally certain that I should have to
make myself contented with a slice of hard ham,
and a square of the inevitable corn-cake which
has been the staff of life to the rebels ever since
the blockade. I (when I say " I," I mean we ;
for my friend Wheelock shared these luminous
experiences) knocked at the large front-door; and
was very soon confronted by the mistress, to whom
the frequent question was put, —
"Madam, may we trespass on your hospitaUty
for the night?"

126 THE NEGRO.
The "Yes, I suppose so," came out very reluc
tantly, and showed plainly enough the proclivities
of vthe landlady.
There was, however, no hesitancy on our part
to accept such coldly given succor ; for we knew,
that, only the week before, the same house had
been the favorite rendezvous for rebel officers ; and
felt that what had been given to the red, white,
and red, was due to the red, white, and blue. She
was alone, of course .j and, had I been three months
younger, I should have pitied her forlorn and seem
ingly widowed condition, and checked the exodus
of chickens, geese, and turkeys from her barnyard,
which threatened soon to leave her destitute of
these valuable domestic songsters. But the last
three months had added largely to my experience;
as well as something to my age ; and, knowing well
the occasion of her temporary widowhood, I could
find in my heart no spark of pity. Her husband,
a Northern recreant, had, a few days before,
gathered together his best hands (the young,
strong-limbed men), his finest horses, and all his
mules, and started for the prairie near Alexandria,
whose soil the foot of the Yankee, he thought^
would never desecrate.
We found in the TSche a large number of wi-
do'ws of this description. The husbands, sure that
they would find no security in the presence of the

the negro. 127
Union forces, left their wives and children to the
mercy of the invading army, while they themselves
sought a safe asylum, with whatever valuable porta
bles they could take with them, within the Con
federate lines.
We promised to keep the house of our unwilling
hostess free from stragglers during our stay, — for
which favor she seemed very thankful, as this gor
mandizing rear-guard of the army had spread
terror in every kitchen of any promise whatever, —
and then retired to our rooms for rest and
sleep. There is such a thing as a weariness too great
for sleep ; and, after tumbling over my bed rest
lessly for an hour, I got up, impelled by despera
tion, and began fumbling over the few books in
the room for something to read. I knew, that if I
could find something that would interest me, and
thus compel me to concentrate my thoughts, — for,
when one is overworn, he seems to lose all control
over his mind, which plays leap-frog with every
conceivable fancy, and wanders restlessly through
every zone of Fairy-land, — I should soon reach my
goal of sleep.
For a while, I was unsuccessful. Only some
remarkable piece of literature could effect the
object in view ; and, after hopelessly turning over
the commonplace pages of a dozen books, I took

128 the negro.
up a straggling but providential number of De
Bow's " Review," which lay dusty and dog-eared
under a pile of old secesh newspapers. The first
article attracted my notice ; and I inwardly cried,
" Eureka ! " The longed-for sedative was found at
last. It was so remarkable a paper, that I de
voured it with a mental greediness which surprised
even myself; and, when I got to the end, I felt
that it should not be allowed to die. I determined,
first of all, to sleep on my discovery, and so placed
the volume carefully under my pillow ; and, second,
to perform a labor of love towards the author, and
present it, at least in part, to my friends of the
North. It appears, from a note which is prefixed to the
paper, that certain gentlemen of Mississippi were
desirous of ascertaining the opinion of the Rev.
Samuel A. Cartwright of New Orleans on the
mooted question of the unity of the races. Flat
tered, no doubt, by their kind attentions, the
reverend gentleman, who was probably a slave
owner, or whose wealthiest parishioners were such,
retired to his study, and in due time emerged with
this very carefully prepared document, purporting
to settle this vexed ethnological question for the
planters of the South. Being a little timid by
nature, he seemed unwiUing to base his arguments
upon facts of character and anatomy, but dis
coursed thus : — "

THE NEGRO. 129
" Let us, therefore, abandon the slow, uncertain,
and tortuous paths of proud science, and seek to
know what God has revealed on the subject. If
we take the Hebrew Bible for a guide, and faith-
fuUy interpret it, there can be but one opinion on
the question. That book positively affirms that
there were at least two races of inteUectual crea
tures, with immortal souls, created at different
times. Thus in the twenty-fourth verse of the
first chapter of Genesis : ' The Lord said. Let
the earth bring forth intellectual ' creatures with
immortal souls after their kind, cattle and creeping
thing and beast of the earth after his kind ; and it
was so.' In our English version, instead of ' intel
lectual creatures with immortal souls,' we have only
the words ' living creatures,' as representing the
Hebrew words naphesh chayah. The last word
means ' living creature ; ' and the word naphesh,
which invests chayah, or living creature, with in
tellectuality and immortality, is not translated at
all, either in the Douay Bible or that of King James.
But there it stands, more durable than brass or
granite, inviting us to look at the negro and the
Indian, and then to look at that, and we will under
stand it.
" Neither the Catholic nor the Protestant trans
lators of the Bible seem to have had the negroes
in their mind's eye when they were looking at the
11

130 THE NEGRO.
words naphesh chayah ; or, if they had, they took
for granted that they were white men, whose skins
a tropical sun had blacked ; and hence omitted to
translate the words which embrace them. Missis
sippi and Louisiana are half full of negroes, and so
is the Hebrew Bible ; but our English version has
not got a negro in it.
" The translators surely thought there must be
some mistake in regard to the inteUectuoHity and
immortality of any earthly beings created before
Adam, and hence omitted to express the idea of
intellectuality and immortality which the original
attached to such beings. After the inferior races
or inferior naphesh chayah were created, God said,
' Let us make Adam (or a superior race of naphesh
chayah^ in our own image, and after our likeness,
and let him have dominion over all things on the
earth ; ' including the negroes, of course. Chapter
second, verse seventh, says that Adam ' became a
living soul,' — became a naphesh chayah. We un
derstand by living soul a creature with intelligence
and immortal mind. If the same words had been
translated in the same way in the twenty-fourth
verse of the first chapter, we should have recog
nized two creations of intellectual and immortal
beings at different times ; but these words, being
merely rendered living creatures in the twenty-
fourth verse, confounded the inferior naphesh

THE NEGRO. 131
chayah with the brutes mentioned in the same
verse. " Fifty years ago. Dr. Adam Clarke, the learned
commentator of the Bible, from deep reading in
the Hebrew, Arabic, and Coptic languages, was
forced to the conclusion, that the creature that be
guiled Eve was an animal formed like man, walked
erect, and had the gifts of speech and reason. He
believed it was an orang-outang, and not a serpent.
If he had lived in Louisiana, instead of England, he
would have recognized the negro gardener. Eve
was a new-comer, and had evidentlj' been ques
tioning, out of curiosity, the gardener, about the
tree with the forbidden fruit. The ophidian Bi-
mana begins his reply to her questions with an
exclamation of astonishment, rendered ' Ay ' in our
version ; equivalent to ' Is it possible ? ' ' Can it be
that Elohim has said you are not to eat of every
tree in the garden ? Ye shall not die ; but, in the
day you eat thereof, you will be as gods, knowing
good and evil.'
" We are told in the nineteenth verse of the sec
ond chapter, that all the creatures were brought
before Adam to receive names ; and that what he
called every living creature, that was the name
thereof. What these names were, appears after
ward. The names he gave, very often contained
an abridged history of the thing itself, shut up in

132 THE NEGRO.
the name, — a sealed book to those who did not
know the thing, and intended so to be, until, per
haps, thousands of years' experience had enabled
man to acquire the key of knowledge to unlock
and read the book.
"" The first one of these nsCmes, enclosing within
the name or history of the thing named, occurs in
the first verse of the third chapter of Genesis. It
is Nachash. That is the name of the creature
which beguiled Eve. The history of the creature
is enclosed in the name, under cover of a bundle
of ideas so incongruous and disconnected as not to
be understood, until, in the revolutions of ages,
sufficient knowledge of the thing named had been
acquired by experience to furnish the key to un
lock the book. We see around it the serpent, —
the charmed, the enchanted,- — watching closely,
prying into designs, muttering and babbling with
out meaning, — hissing, whistling, deceitful, artful,
— fetters, chains, — and a verb formed from the
name, which signifies to be, or to become, black.
Any good overseer would recognize the negro's pecu
liarities in the definition of Nachash, and the verbs
connected with it, if read to him from a Hebrew
lexicon. r
" The Bible tells certain facts about negroes,
which none but the best-informed planters and
overseers know at the present day. The most

THE NEGRO. 133
learned divines are ignorant of them, not because
they cannot read Hebrew, but because they cannot
read Hebrew re-writ in the negro. Planters and
overseers read it in the negroes ; but they don't
know that it is Hebrew, and that their evidence,
if they could read Hebrew, would prove in any
court of justice, to the satisfaction of any jury, that
the writer of Genesis knew more about negroes
than they did.
" The people of the United States followed Adam's
example without knowing it, and got their slaves
from the serpen1>worshippers. The Seventy-two
who translated the Bible into Greek rendered the
word Nachash by Ophiz, ' a serpent.' There were
so many meanings to the word, they were puzzled
to teU which to choose. Dr. Clarke thought that
' orang-outang' would have been a better choice than
' serpent ' for the name of a black creature, formed
like a man, with the gift of speech and reason, a
great deal of cunning, yet playful and good-natured,
walking erect, a sorcerer, and a slave to something
that charmed it. If the Seventy-two had lived in our
day, they would have rendered the word Nachash, as
the great Hebrew scholar of the East, but now of the
West, C. Blanchard Thompson, has rendered it, by
the word Negro.
" The negroes brought' from the Gold Coast into
America, and their descendants, I studied in the

134 THE NEGRO.
cotton and cane fields, in sickness and in health,
under good masters and bad, and at the dissecting-
table. What I thus learned in the book of Nature,
I found, to my great surprise, had been revealed
more than five thousand years previously in the
Hebrew Bible. I discovered that they have no
resentments for being flogged, as other people
have ; that liberty makes them miserable, instead
of happy ; that they submit themselves into sla
very ; are protected by a law of their nature, like
mules, against being over-worked ; that they were
slaves by mind, or slaves by nature.
" Happily, as foretold, the seed of the woman is
bruising the head of the serpent, and Christianity
is setting the poor negro free from slavery to that
evil , pirit which seizes upon him whenever he gets
beyond the hearing of the crack of the white man's
whip." When I had finished this remarkable article, —
and I was so absorbed in its numerous details, that
I quite forgot the cloud of mosquitos who spiked
me in every accessible part of my body, and en
joyed, I doubt not, a rare banquet, — I fell at once
under the conviction, that Samuel A. was a bit of a
wag, — a man who could not keep ihe wit from
bubbling up. I wanted to hear him preach: for'l
knew that he must be a terribly funny man ; one,
indeed, who would not dare to be as funny as he

THE NEGRO. 13-3
could, for fear of the most dreadful consequences,
since men have been known to die of excessive
laughter. He has done, I said, a very rich thing ;
for he has published, in a Review given to the
most ultra proslavery doctrines, a paper which
purports to be a balm for every tender conscience
south of Mason and Dixon's line, while it is really
a very neat piece of ridicule. Here is poison,
labelled " Magnesia," for every diseased Southern
stomach. The old gentleman is really swimming
in the deepest waters of satire ; and I fear, that, if
these planters discover under what a great gull's
wing they have taken shelter, Samuel A. will
surely swing for it. When the proprietors of
De Bow find out the joke, they will sprinkle
their journal weekly with holy water, until a new
volume sets in.
But, as I sat there wondering, — the mercUess
mosquitos, who had fed on me and were fuU,
singing at the top of their voices, and calling in
aU their neighbors, — I began to feel, that, after all,
it was not a joke. Samuel A. was really in ear
nest. His friends, perhaps, had been slightly trou
bled about the rights of slavery ; and, to appease
them, he had consented to take down his old He
brew lexicon, and, with intellectual spade and
pick, dig about the roots of Genesis a little. And
there is no denying that he has done immense

136 THE NEGRO.
*
service to the cause. The rich planter is satisfied,
that, the moment a man reads Hebrew, he is pos
sessed with a desire to own slaves ; and that all
our abolition brethren of the North want is a
sound lecture by some ripe. Hebrew scholar, who
shall read to them the first chapter of Genesis.
If they can resist that, they are incorrigible.
I take to myself great credit for exhuming this
document, which was dog-eared and dusty, and
likely to pass into utter oblivion. It settles some
questions of grave importance : —
First, The absolute necessity of having Hebrew
taught in our public schools.
Second, That the slave-owner is entirely right
when he counts his mules, niggers, and hogs, and
says he has so many " head " in the aggregate ;
and our outcry against its inhumanity arises simply
from the fact, that we are not acquainted with Holy
Writ. Had we the desired knowledge, we should
remember, that, in the twenty-fourth verse of the
first chapter of Genesis, " the Lord said, Let the
earth bring forth naphesh chayah (alias negroes),
cattle, and, creeping thing, and beast of the earth
after his kind ; and it was so." God puts negroes
and cattle in the same . catalogue ; and if, after
this, you are rash enough to reprove the slave-
driver, you will quickly have your flank turned,
and your centre thrown into disoi"der, by that

THE NEGRO. 137
sixty-four pounder, — the original Hebrew first
chapter of Genesis.
Third, We learn the important fact, that, eth-
nologicaUy, the negro precedes Adam. The said
negro is simply a sort of preliminary step to
wards a white man : he is " a living creature
with an immortal soul." After the earth had
brought him forth, God said, " Now let us make
something in our own image, and after our like
ness ; " and then Adam stepped into the garden of
Eden, while the negro sat quietly under the
branches of the tree in the centre of the garden,
waiting for Eve.
Now, how unfortunate it is that the Seventy
were so ignorant of Hebrew roots, or rather how
unfortunate that Samuel A. was born two centuries
too late I Had he been one of- the Seventy, and
that august body had hit upon the right word for
naphesh chayah, and translated it "negro," what
an infinite deal of trouble would have been saved 1
It would have been settled beyond all dispute,
that the negro is nothing but a serpent, — a hiss
ing, whistling, babbling, cunning creature ; and all
qualms about the slave-trade would have been ap
peased. England would have been saved a great deal
of excitement and harsh feeling about the " middle
passage ; " and her money-bags would' to-day be filled
with the millions of dollars which her abolitionists

138 THE NEGRO.
expended in freeing the black bondmen of the
West Indies. America would have had no war.
Instead of this feeling of chivalry and humaneness,
which is called abolitionism, the North and South
would be owners in the same slave-ships ; and
there would be a generous rivalry as to which sec
tion of our loved land should import the greatest
number of blacks and make the largest fortunes.
Alas 1 the Seventy were ignorant of the infinite
injury they were doing to posterity, when they
slipped so easily by "the real meaning of naphesh

Possibly they were absorbed in a friendly game
of euchre at the critical moment ; for I hear that
these old divines were given to some of the plea
sures of a carnal world : and, if so, sure am I that
knaves were prominent cards. There is, however,
but one thing to do : appoint the Rev. Samuel A.
a committee to repair to the nearest place where a
medium can call up the recreant spirits of the
Seventy, and belabor them with a Hebrew lexi
con. I need not add, that, after sufficiently wondering
at this paper, my mind was tranquillized ; and I
succeeded in my object, — which was to forget the
world, and dusty roads, and war, and my own wea
riness, in sleep. Only once was I disturbed in the
night. Just before dawn, my door opened, and an

THE NEGRO. 139
odd " living creature with an immortal soul " en
tered my room. It was about the height of a man ;
and I doubted not, that, if Adam Clarke had been
present, he would have at once pronounced it the
veritable orang-outang, whose perfidious wiles were
the destruction of Eve's innocence. I had just
summoned courage to question it, and had 'indeed
asked, " Who art thou that comest here ? " and it
had " babblingly, whistlingly " answered, " Ise de
Naphesh chayah, de ophidian Bimana, who " —
when the only remaining cock which the soldiers
had left on the plantation crowed, and the spiritual
Bimana beat a hasty retreat.
For four months my business brought me into
constant contact with the negroes. I have seen
them under nearly all circumstances : when they
were listening to the twang of the banjo, and enjoy
ing the luxury of a Saturday-afternoon dance ; and
when they have, glum, silent, sullen, just come
from the whipping-house with their backs well
scored. I have seen favorite house-servants, who
were proud of their ability to read and write ; and
the old field-hands, who, trembling with age, fum
bled their charms, and told me of the adventures
and exploits of Lafitte. I have tried impartially
to answer that question, which the North now
puts to every man who has travelled in the South,
" Are the blacks ready for freedom ? " It may

140 THE NEGRO.
be a question fraught with many a difficulty :
stiU I will say, that, for one, I am not afraid to
have the experiment tried. I am troubled about
no such results as are held up as bugbears in every
argument. The negroes are far more fit to be free
than many people who enjoy that inestimable pri
vilege : they are fitter to be free than to be
slaves. Of one thing I am sure : the slaves everywhere
have an intense longing to possess their own bodies,
and to govern their own fortunes. No one could
have accompanied our forces, through the T§che
without being deeply impressed with this fact.
They crowded to the highway to see us pass ; and
clapped their hands, and sang and prayed, as ban
ner after banner, beneath whose folds to-day there
are no slaves, went by. Their expressions are
quaint, but full of meaning. " Tank God I de day is
come at last ! " said one old man, as he reverently
raised both hands in benediction over our boys. I
could not help feeling that there was no harm in
bowing my head, as the white-haired man hoped
God would take good care " of de young master."
Still I could not see the use of freedom to one so
aged ; and said, —
" Uncle, freedom wiU do you no good ; for you
are just on the edge of the grave."
" I knows dat, master; I knows dat well enough:

THE NEGRO. 141
but I've got my boys ; and I bless you all, kase you
give 'em free."
I rode on, wondering where that old man, who
had been working in the field with a hoe or plough
for fifty years, had got that longing, — if not from
an instinct, which will hold the tiller when he is
emancipated, and guide him safely towards civili
zation. Such jubilee I never saw. The blacks took our
sick into their little huts, and nursed them with all
tenderness. Many a soldier will remember, how,
when he fell out of the ranks during one of those
severe marches, and the planter near by scowled
and glowered so that he would not enter the rich
man's door, some poor " aunty," black as the ace of
spades, helped him to her own cabin, placed him
on her own bed, made him tea and gruel, and
nursed him as tenderly as his own sister would
have done.
" Massa say dis bery mornin', ' De damn Yankees
nebber get up to here ! ' " shouted another as we
passed : " but I knowed better ; we all knowed bet
ter dan dat. We'se been prayin' too long to de
Lord to have him forgit us ; and now you'se come,
and we all free." On entering one plantation, a
crowd of blacks surrounded us ; and I wished that
the stolid logicians, who prove by slate and pencil
"that the black has no parental regard, had been-

142 THE NEGRO.
there. They pressed in crowds about us ; and the
first question was, " Young marster, now we'se
free, can we go up to Massa Smithes plantation,
and get our wives ? " These questions were asked
of us continually ; and, when I told them that they
might go, nothing could exceed their joy. One old
man, when I gave him the required permission,
turned away, saying, " Well, weU, dese is blessed
times shure I "
And so it was all along the road our army
marched. It did not seem to be the spectacle, the
display, they cared for : it was the one grand sub
ject, which throbbed in every black breast from
Brashear City to Alexandria. They stood at the
gate with tubs of cold water ; and they offered
their shoes, their money, to the soldiers ; and
when you asked where their masters had hidden
their horses, and whether there were any saddles,
or any thing that could be made available, in the
stable, they told at once, if they knew. Once I
said to a stalwart fellow, who looked as though he
might know many a hiding-place, —
" Tom, you are trying to cheat me : you do
know where I can get a horse ; but you won't
teU." " Marster, 'fore God, I teUs de truff. Ef I knowed,
I'd tell shure. You give me free, and do you
tink I wouldn't give you massa's horse, ef I

THE NEGRO. 143
knowed where he were ? " And the little crowd
all corroborated his testimony, and seemed hurt
that I distrusted them.
Many a man who has boasted that all his slaves
could be trusted, that he had often given his boy
Jim hundreds of dollars to carry to the bank, and
that not a hand on his plantation could be cajoled
away, had his eyes opened wide on those days of
our advance. Unwilling that either Confederate or
Federal should confiscate his most valuable horses,
he had very stealthily and carefully hidden them
in the thick underbrush of the woods, a mile or a
mile and a half away. Jim alone knew where they
were. The Confederates came rushing by, and Jim
stood with open mouth at the spectacle ; and, when
asked where his master's horses were, he, of course,
stared in profound ignorance. When the Federal
advance came along, a cavalry-man rode up on his
jaded beast, and inquired, —
" Boys, can you tell me where I can get a fresh
horse ? "
And Jim was not at all bashful. He at once
answered, —
" Yes, marster : I'll show you where de old man
hid his stallion ; " and forthwith trotted by the side
of the cavalry-man until he exchanged his worn-out
hack for a fine, sleek stallion worth a thousand dol
lars.

144 THE NEGRO.
These instances were innumerable. I wiU ven
ture to say, that nearly half our cavalry-horses
were changed in the TSche country ; and, in the
vast majority of cases, it was the favorite servants
who pointed out the hiding-place, and said, —
" You give us free, and we helps you aU we
can." A curious instance of this kind came under my
notice. Wheelock and I were riding along with
the skirmishers towards Opelousas, on two beasts
that were thoroughly jaded, when a black boy
rushed out from a cabin in the most excited man
ner, and would hardly let our horses go by, crying
out, —
" Master, if you wants me to, I will tell you
where there is two splendid horses belonging to de
ole man."
" How far off? " we asked.
" 'Bout half a mile, master ; and hid in de thick
cane-brake." " But why,* you young rascal, do you come here,
and discover to us your master's property ? You
ought to have more love for him than to do such a
thing." The idea of love seemed to strike the boy as
being very peculiar ; and he only answered, —
" When my master begins to lub me, den it'll be
time enough for me to lub him. What I wants is

THE NEGRO. 145
to get away. I want you to take me off from dis
plantation, where I can be free."
It was not a particularly pleasant though a
somewhat romantic thing to leave our columns,
and go half a mile into the woods. The gueriUas
abounded; and they had no scruples whatever
about drawing a bead on a stray Union sol
dier. StiU we needed horses, and made the attempt.
The beasts were not there. The black boy was
confounded,- but said he would call Jean.
Now, Jean was the only boy on the plantation
who knew where those horses were. He was a
favorite servant at the " big house ; " and, when
the owner discovered that the retreat of the horses
was known to some of the hands, he told Jean to
remove them secretly to some secure corner, where
neither the hands whom he knew he could not trust
nor the Federals could penetrate.
Jean was brought. He was forty-five years old,
had a family, lived as well as a slave can live in
the Tgche country (which is one of the most cruel
places in the State), and had received a great many
favors from the " big house : " still he longed to be
free. I said, —
" Jean, I hear you have hidden two good horses
in the cane-brake. WUl you show me where they

are :

?"

12

146 THE NEGRO.
He hesitated a moment, as though revolving the
subject in his mind, grew serious, and then said
slowly and calmly, —
" Yes, master, I vnll show you where dem horses
is. De ole fokes will kill me near-a-most, if dey
ever finds it out ; but you'se de people dat sets us
free, and we poor colored fokes ought to do what
little we can for you."
He led the way through fields half a mile, and
then came to a very dense cane-brake. It was a
ticklish place to be in ; but we were in such con
dition, that we were wiUing to run some risk.
Jean disappeared, and soon brought out a fine
gray American horse, as all horses foaled in the
North are called ; and then, disappearing a second
time, came back bringing another. We mounted
with all despatch, the black boy getting astride of
a very lean beast he had managed to pick up, and
hastened on for our advance.
Jean's is a sample of the kind of love the best
negroes bear their masters. The more a slave
knows, and the nearer he comes to being a self-
supporting man, the less willing is he to live in
servitude. With the first idea that enters a black
man's head comes the desire for freedom. Keep
him in the most brutal ignorance, and he expresses
no particular desire to be free ; but teach him how
to shoe a horsej let him learn the carpenter's trade.

THE NEGRO. 147
or allow him to attend you as your body-servant,
and to hear the conversation of white folks, and he
is ruined as a slave. You may aUow him all the
privileges which his position has a right to claim ;
you may give him presents, and try to endear him
to you in all manner of ways, — stiU, in the great
majority of cases, he chafes against the bars ; and
is not to be trusted for a moment, when it is possi
ble to attain his freedom. There are, of course,
exceptions to this rule. There are servants, ge
nerally female, who cannot be induced to leave the
old home. They are sufficiently happy and con
tented as they are. They experience none of the
horrors of slavery, and are attached to their mas
ter or mistress. Not so generally with the man.
Somehow his brain is at work on the problem all
the time. He may have every thing else, but still
he is restless until he owns his body. Now, Jean
was a good. servant; one who daily came in contact
with his owner. He visited other plantations, and
saw and heard what no field-hand ever saw or
heard. He was never whippe"d. But he had a
wife and three little children ; and he told nje that
he trembled lest some day he should go home, and
find one of his little ones gone or his wife sold.
" For," said he, " these be hard times, and nobody
knows whether they have much money at the big
house or not." •

148 THE NEGRO.
Nevertheless, he told me he should stay on the
plantation until he could get all his family away.
He bade my black boy an affectionate farewell,
gave him an extra shirt, and hoped that God would
bless him.
As we rode by the crowd at the gate, some cried
out, —
" Well, George, how is you ? "
" All right now for de fust time in my life," he
answered. And he slapped the ribs of his poor old horse by
bringing his bare legs against his side with prodi
gious force, and gaUoped off, singing, and in the'
merriest possible mood.
That boy I- brought to New Orleans with me.
He proved to be a fellow of pluck, and expressed
a desire to go into the army. I had him enlisted
as an engineer ; and, when I was at Port Hudson,
he found me out, and came rushing up to me to
tell me what he had been doing. He wUl make a
good soldier ; and I congratulate myself on having
taken a good hand from a secession ciane-field, and
placed .him in the army of the Union.
But this instinctive love of and longing for free
dom does not confine itself to words : it sometimes
shows itself in lofty and heroic sufferings, wiUingly
endured for its sake. We have been told so re
peatedly of the dull, Bluggish*nature of the black

THE NEGEO. 149
man, and of the vast difference between him and
the rude Saxon, that we have been led to believe
there is no spirit, nothing indeed but a tame, insipid
timidity, in the black's heart. A careful observer,
on going through this State, would learn, that
though, by the leaden weight of an irresistible and
merciless public opinion, the majority of the slaves
are kept in the most servile subjection, instances
iave constantly occurred of black men taking
their lives in their hands, and risking every thing
to be free. These instances of lofty heroism sel
dom get to the ears of the North. It would. not
be policy to have them rung out by the clarion
eloquence of Phillips from the rostrums of New
England. But go quietly to the hound-owner,
who has a pack of a dozen or more full-blooded
dogs, and ask him how much employment he has
had in past years, and how many negroes his dogs
have so torn that they died ; or when, you are rid
ing with tbe planter, and you are both in a con
fidential mood, get him to tell you how in the
floating prairie yonder, on a little mound of firm
land, to which there is but a single narrow path
over the tUting morass, a path known to very few,
there have been from time to time little communi
ties of negroes, six or a dozen or twenty, who
have lived there for months. And they were the
brightest hands on. the place too. One day the

150 THE NEGRO.
overseer was testy, and struck them ; and at once
they boiled over at the indignity, very nearly kill
ing the overseer, and then took to the swamps.
Sometimes they come out at night, and the hands
give them bacon and corn-meal. Again they come
and steal a sheep ; and somehow they manage to
live there, and the planters can't get at them. It
certainly required a brave and determined heart
on the part of the negro to resist the popular feel
ing of all the planters of the State, and to defy the
State laws, which winked at the overseer who shot
a runaway slave dead, and to endure the privations
of swamp-life, with a very dim prospect of ever
getting to a free State, for the sake of his personal
freedom. That negro certainly was something
better than an " ophidian Bimana," and had an
appreciation of the value of freedom that need not
have shamed any Saxon in the land.
But, since the war commenced, brilliant examples
of heroic endurance of suffering have tran'spired.
I have listened to the adventures of one of these
men, who was determined to be free at all hazards ;
and I have been thrilled with the interest of the
narrative, and kindled with indignation against a
white man who pretends to be a Christian, and
who, with honeyed language, will tell you how he
loves his hands, and how his people love him ; but
who, nevertheless, wiU set a dozen dogs on a black

THE NEGRO. 151
personification of a thousand doUars, if he chance
to indulge a desire to be. a man. It is at such
times that one sees the peculiar beauties of this
great missionary society, miscalled slavery ; and
it is at such times, too, that the chivalry of the
Southern gentleman is exhibited to advantage. It
is a picture, thank God, which stands in bold con
trast against our American civilization ; and is an
anomaly, which, I hope, can have no existence after
the war is over.
Immediately after Butler entered New Orleans,
the slave-owners were compelled to keep a stricter
vigilance over their hands. Fewer passes were
given to slaves, allowing them to visit neighboring
plantations; the lash was more freely used to in
timidate, and keep the blacks in subjection ; and
fears of a general exodus were to such an extent
entertained by the whites, that the civil police was
largely increased, and all sorts of measures resorted
to, to impress upon the negro's mind that he would
be roughly used if ever he fell into the hands of
the Yankees. This is the testimony of aU with
whom I have spoken. Indeed, the unanimity upon
this point is quite remarkable. The master instinc
tively felt that he possessed only the hatred of his
chattel, whose sympathy was given to the Union
army. He knew that the negro was to be trusted
only within good rifle-shot. Still, large numbers

152 THE NEGRO.
succeeded in escaping, and found refuge and free
dom within the lines of the Federal force. I have
talked with many who travelled from one to three
hundred miles, encountering dangers enough to
make a respectable noVel, and who were prompted
only by a desire to own their own bodies. The
story they tell is quaint, but ofteritimes thrilling.
One which I recall, related by a lusty fellow of
about four and twenty years, is so full of interest,
that I must repeat it.
October was a slave, on a large cotton plantation
in the southern part of Arkansas. When twenty
years of age, he had married a yellow girl on the
plantation, by whom he was blessed with one child.
He said he had always been a restless hand, and
entertained an instinctive hatred towards the
overseer. He could never understand why that
brutal man should stand over him with a whip,
and, whenever he felt a little out of sorts, have
the right to vent his spleen by a sharp cut over
his (October's) shoulders. To be sure, the over-
[ seer was white, and he had been told that white
people had received power from God " to do their
will with the blacks ; " that these blacks were not
regarded by God as good for much ; that some of
them had souls, — those who worked faithfuUy ; and
some were no better than the pigs that fed from
the master's bounty. This, he said, he could never

THE NEGRO. 153
comprehend. He lay awake many a night, think
ing of it. He talked the matter over with his wife ;
but neither of them could understand it. He only
knew one thing, — that he hated the whole white
race ; and that, above all things else, he hated and
cursed God. When he was well-nigh worn out by
these thoughts, an old gray-headed preacher from
the next plantation came into his cabin, and, being
a very sympathetic man, got his whole story out
of him. When he had told all, the old man hid his
face in his hands, and murmured, " How long, 0
good Lord 1 how long?" Then,' turning to October,
he put his hand on his shoulder, and said impres
sively, " Octo, de white man is de liar, and de
Lord tell de truff. We is a poor mis'able race ;
but God A'mighty love us just as much as he do
de rich white fokes." " From that moment," said
October, " I knowed what I wanted : it was to be
free." The next morning, with a lighter heart, he went
into the field ; and, when he came home at the ac
customed hour for dinner, his wife and child were
gone. There was the pork, aU cut up, and ready
to be fried ; and down on the hearth, in the pan,
was the corn-dough. No fire on the hearth ; and,
said he, " a fcelin' to de room dat made me sit down
in a chair, and cry like a baby."
Just then, the overseer appeared at the door.
13

154 THE NEGRO.
" Where be my wife and my baby ? " he cried
frantically. " What, October ? Do you mean Mary and the
pickaninny ? Why, the old man was dunned most
awfully this morning ; and, knowing that you and
your woman were a damned uneasy couple, he just
slipped the other two away."
The nearest thing at hand was the iron pan,
with the corn-dough in it. Quick as thought, Oc
tober shied it at the overseer's head. It just
missed him ; but he saw at once that he had com
mitted a crime which would be considered heinous
by any slave jury. He then started for the swamp,
while the enraged overseer went for his gun and
dogs. He had no food, except three slices of pork
which he had slipped into his pocket ; and no
clothing, except what he had on his back. He
had a fearful task before him ; but his agony fitted
him for it. With wonderful speed, he rushed
through the swamp till he came to a small bayou.
This was fortunate ; for the dogs would here lose
his track. He swam across, and kept on the full
run for half an hour ; when the baying of the head
hound proved that he was seen. On he went, and
on the dog came. He had no weapon save a dull
jack-knife, which he opened, and got ready for use.
The head dog was on him ; his sharp teeth were
in his thigh ; and the other dogs, four in all, were

THE NEGBO. 155
not far in the rear. With a great effort, he man
aged to get hold of the dog's throat with his left
hand, and, with his right, brought down the old
jack-knife blade just back of the skull of the hound.
It was a lucky hit ; for the dog let go his hold, and
fell dead. He then limped on as fast as he could ;
and, coming across a thick club, he grasped it, re
solving to die game. Two of the hounds were
near enough to see him. There was no use in
running : so he stopped to gather strength and get
breath for the contest. The hounds rushed on
fu-riously. One made his leap ; when thwack came
the'teypress club on his head, and stunned him.
The other dog fastened his teeth into the calf of
his leg, and hung to him most savagely. He had
lost his knife, and the club was of little use. He
beat the brute as lustily as he could ; but his blows
did not drive him off. At last, he grew desperate.
The overseer could not be far behind ; and, if he
came up, all was lost. He went down on his
knees, and managed to get the hound by the
throat. With both hands he clinched him, and at
last had the satisfaction of seeing that the brute
was choking. Still he held fast to his calf; and
when he was choked dead, or rather senseless, so
tenacious was the brute, that October was com
pelled to pull his jaws apart to get free. He then
started on, limping badly.

156 THE NEGEO.
StiU his trials were but just begun. He had got
rid of dogs ; but now he was to * encounter men
who were just as merciless. He had no food ; and
his feet, were sore, and badly cut. His clothes
were torn nearly off his back ; and as I think of the
poor boy, worn with a heavy grief, without a friend
in all the wide world, making his way through the
dense jungle, and yet wiUingly enduring these
things in the simple hope of being the possessor of
his own body, and of getting to some place where
no man would have the right to sell from his home
those whom God had given him, I feel that there
is something heroic and manly in' him. He has
proved his worthiness to enjoy that inalienable
right which should be the birthright of all.
For ten days he wandered through the woods,
travelling mostly by night ; and at last, on a beau
tiful, bright morning, he came out in the road, and
saw in the distance our flag floating in the breeze.
" Then," said he, " I "felt safe. I knew, dat, de mo
ment I got close to dat flag-pole, I was free." And
yet we have had generals in our army (God grant
we have none now !) who Avould have forbidden tbat
boy to come within our lines, and have delivered
him over to his master, had that master come with
his oily, lying lips, and stood upon his rights as a
Southern gentleman. We are not worthy of those
significant victories which follow on the heels of

THE NEGEO. 157
such a war as this ; a war which is like a boiling
caldron, in which right and wrong are simmering
together, each boiling, bubbling, seething, to deter
mine which shall become the precipitate, and which
shall give character to the water which is to quench
the thirst of the next generation ; a war upon
whose magnificent issues the old sages and heroes
of the past are gazing from their homos in the
great Hereafter with infinite solicitude, to assure
themselves that we are worthy the mighty heritage
of popular liberty which they bequeathed to us:
I say, we are not yet ready for the end and the
triumph, unless we forget the difi'erence. between
the black and the white skin, and worship heroism
and manliness wherever they may be found. Be
fore that great day, — the day when the Almighty
will give us back the old flag, torn, powder-stained,
but glorious ; the symbol of a people who are all
free, — we must slough off this unmanly antipathy
against those of darker hue ; this corroding pre
judice which holds us back from deeds of justice,
and forces us into wronging four millions of Ameri
can citizens, who will yet be found invaluable as
agriculturists and soldiers, but whom we have
delighted to sneer at as only niggers.
This story of October is not singular. I have
met many men, in my travels through the depart
ment, whose experiences have been equally thrill-

158 THE NEGEO.
ing. There are scores of officers, whose body-
servants have endured all manner of trials in the
attempt to secure their freedom. I have seen boys
with buckshot in their arms and in various parts
of their bodies, — the price they were willing to
pay to own themselves, and the last souvenir of
slavery. So much I say to prove the universal longing, in
the negro's heart, after freedom. I know there are
many in the North who believe that the black man
is in a kind of comatose state : he has worn the
chains so long, and has become so accustomed to
them, that he would feel at a loss without them.
Most planters will tell you that the slaves are the
most rollicking, and the least ambitious, people in
the world ; if freedom were offered to them, they
are too well contented with their present careless
life to accept it ; they can never be happy, except
as dependants of the whites. But it is not so.
With the exception of a few favorite house-servants,
and a small number of people too old to take care
of themselves, all are wide awake, terribly so, on
this subject. They have prayed about it, and met
in secret conclave to talk of it.
The planters little know how many times they
have been sleeping on a volcano. While thinking
themselves secure from all harm, and believing that
their hands were in their cabins, dreaming, they

THE NEGEO. 169
have been close to a bloody insurrection : the very
thought of which the planter scouts, when talking
to a Northerner ; but which he has been in mortal
dread of many and many a time. At midnight, the
blacks have stolen from their plantations, and met
in the cane-brake, or some other secure retreat, and
talked of the Yankees, and prayed for them and for
the flag of the free.
Again : the slaves of the South are not a happy
people. No one can travel from plantation to
plantation, from county to county, as I have done,
without being strangely impressed with the uni
versal gloom of the negro character. You may
talk of the light-hearted, merry slave as much as
you will : it is all rhetoric, and has no foundation
whatever in fact. They are a sombre race, — a
race who show that every effort has been made to
crush them, — a race whose hearts have a chain
and ball on them. Planters delight to tell you of
the Saturday-afternoon dances, of the frolics when
the day's work is over, and of the general hila
rity which is noticed on a plantation. I have
lived on plantations a week at a time ; I have
watched slaves under nearly all circumstances, —
on the Saturday afternoon, in the evening, and at
their balls : but I have been everywhere con
vinced that an unnatural gloom overspreads the
negro's life. It is very seldom that you hear a

160 THE NEGRO.
good round laugh from a black man. He is timid
and fearful, and seems like one walking in a danger
ous place in the dark. But say, " Uncle, would you
like to bo free ? " and notice the twinkle in his eye
as he looks at you searchingly, and, after conclud
ing that you are his friend, says, with an ominous
shake of the head, " Yes, master : all of us would
like to be free ; but we don't see de way yet."
StUl the serious question proposes itself here,
Are these people fit to be free ? Can they, as a race,
support themselves? The answer, in my mind, is
very clear. Why should they not be able, if there
is work for them to do, to procure their three-quar
ters of a pound of pork and their half-dozen ears
of corn per day ? Are tliey so foolish as to starve
to death? Look at this matter closely, and you
will find the source of these assertions of the
planter. He does not, for a moment, suppose that
the black has not sense enough to procure his own
subsistence. That is not his trouble. It is that
the work on a sugar-plantation is, at certain times of
the year, very trying ; and he fears that the blacks,
through what he calls their inevitable laziness, will
prefer to live on their little patch of ground, rather
than work for him, during the rolling season, for
unreasonable wages. The planter, is looking at his
own interest simply, when he argues this point;
and, when he talks of the slave's laziness and imbe-

THE NEGEO. 161
cility, he means, simply, that he wiU, through free
dom, get beyond his reach, — nothing more. The
Southerner, in his heart, has not the least doubt
that the slave population have the ability to be
come a self-supporting people. Look down the
catalogue, and see for yourself how this is. In the
first place, we notice the house-servants, who are
cooks, chambermaids, body-servants : these can al
ways find employment as well as white people of
the same class. Then come the hostlers, who are
generally very bright, and the gardeners, the black
smiths, carpenters, and other hands, whose money
Value is beyond the average. These, surely, can
find out the way to a subsistence ; for their trades
are always remunerative, and their services will
always be in demand. Next we come to the field-
hands ; and of these the brightest are generally the
ploughboys, some of them right smart and shrewd.
Then, lastly, we notice the clumsier sort, who, both
men and women, use the hoe and shovel. Who
of these are unable or unwilling to earn their five
pounds of pork (forty- cents) and their hundred
ears of corn (a dollar) per week ? Just throw off
the yoke, and give them a fair trial. You would
soon find that they would become shrewd and
thrifty. Your big plantations would undoubtedly
suffer, and hence the sneers and opposition. It
would cost more to raise a crop of sugar ; for the

162 THE NEGEO.
negro, no more wiUingly than the white man, will
work night and day, for three months in the year,
for poor clothing and wretched food. Louisiana,
instead of consisting, for the most part, of thirteen
hundred and fifty plantations, that cover from one
to three and five thousand acres each, would be
dotted all over with little homesteads of from two
to a dozen, and from that to fifty acres each ; while
the population, in point of moral worth and vigor,
would increase a thousand-fold, and the State at
last become truly democratic and republican.
Another and a more important change would
take place ; this time, not so much in division of
land, and extent of farming interest, as in the cha- •
racter of the citizens. There are geniuses among
the blq,cks, men wonderfully gifted by nature. The
race can give us minds whose thoughts we cannot
afford to lose. Music, art, and science will spring
into being with freedom. Four millions of people
surely have some among them who are nobly gifted,
and who only need to hear the chains drop to
spring into a grander life. Now we get from them
nothing but the play of their muscles ; but let Free
dom sing her song in the South, and these gifted
sons, brightened by public schools, tamed by an
outspoken, practical religion, and encouraged by
an enlightened public opinion, will rise to the sur
face of society, worthy the companionship of aristo
crat or litterateur.

THE NEGEO. 163
J V
I remember to have been called to CarroUton
some time in February to inspect the condition of
the negroes there. They had collected in very
large numbers, from an area of country with a ra
dius of forty miles, and formed themselves into
colonies with from one to five hundred in each ; and
were living on three-quarters Government rations,
and working in every way in which they could be
made available. As soon as they were well settled,
they built a rude church. The negro has a pecu
liarly emotional nature, and is very susceptible of
a certain amount of religious influence. His reli
gion is not always quite reasonable ; it is a kind of
nervous spasm, an uncontrollable ecstasy, with a
great many : still it is the legitimate product of
three generations of mental and physical depres
sion. I entered the low room devoted to church-pur
poses, bowing my head, not so much in reverence,
I fear, as from the fact that my first act; after
crawling through the door, was to add to my phre
nological organs numerically by very close and
sudden contact with the ceiling. It was a novel
picture which presented itself. A full hundred
blacks, of all shades, from the octoroon, generally
pretty and pert, to the unmistakable Congo, were
gathered together ; and, for a few moments, perfect
silence prevailed. No one seemed to dare to speak.

164 THE NEGEO.
At length, however, a single voice, coming from a
dark corner of the room, began a low, mournful
chant, in which the whole assemblage joined by
degrees. It was a strange song, with seemingly
very little rhythm, and was what is termed in music
a minor : it was not a psalm, nor a real Sioug, as we
understand these words ; for there was nothing
that approached the jubilant in it. It seemed more
like a Wail, a mournful, dirge-like expression of sor
row. At first, I was inclined to laugh, it was so far
from what I had been accustomed to call music ; then
I felt uncomfortable, as though I could not endure
it, and half rose to leave the room ; and at last, as
the weird chorus rose a little above, and then fell
a little below, the key-note, I was overcome by the
real sadness and depression of soul which it seemed
to symbolize.. When it was ended, — and like our
grandfathers, who indulged in unadulterated and
unabridged " Watts " to the extent of fifteen or
twenty verses, they sang for a full half-hour. — an
old man knelt down to pray. His voice was at first
low and indistinct : the prayer was purely an emo
tional effort. He seemed to gain impulse as he
went on, and pretty soon burst out with an " 0
good, dear Lord ! we pray for de cuUered people.
Thou knows well 'miff what we'se been through :
do, do, oh ! do, gib us free 1 " when the whole au
dience swayed back and forward in their seats, and

THE NEGEO. 165
uttered in perfect harmony a sound like that caused
by prolonging the letter "m" with the lips closed.
One or two began this wild, mournful chorus ; and
in an instant all joined in, and the sound sweUed
upwards and downwards like waves of the sea. It
was a sort of universal amen to the words of him
who prayed, and always commenced when the op
pressions of the race were alluded to (as they always
were in prayer), and when the preacher grew fer
vent (as he always did) while asking for all sorts
of quaint blessings for the Union army.
At length, we were treated to the sermons. The
first man who spoke was a downright, hard-thump
ing preacher. His object seemed to be to get him
self into an ecstasy ; and, in the course of ten
minutes, he accomplished his purpose. He lost all
self-control ; and, intoning his remarks, took flights
of rhetoric which would have made Whately dizzy,
and produced logic which brought tears — of laugh
ter — to my eyes. He was evidently a character,
and produced some effect.
When he sat down, and the storm was over, a
profound calm settled on the audience. For full
five minutes, not a word was uttered. Then, from
his quiet place in one corner, rose the man for
whose sake I have made this digression, and intro
duced you to this strange negro-meeting. The
moment I looked at him, I saw that he was no com-

166 THE NEGEO.
mon man. He had a full forehead, a tall, command
ing figure ; and, as I afterwards ascertained, was a
confidential servant on one of the largest planta
tions in the State. There was no cant about him.
He was simply a genius, — gifted far beyond most
men, and needing only education to enable him to
take position among those who make rather than
follow public opinion. In his opening remarks, he
referred to a difficulty among the negroes who had
been led to expect pay for their work. " I remember
his exact words. " My brethren," said he in the
most quiet and mellow tone, " I have been a slave
for six and thirty years ; and, though I labored faith
fully for my master, I never received at any one
time more than four bits ; and if, as a slave, I
could work for my owner for six and thirty years,
now that I am a freeman, surely I can work for
Uncle Sam a little while, — just a little while, —
until he can find a fitting place for me, for nothing."
To the reader, it may be a common sentence ; but
the effect was instantaneous. " Yes, yes," went
over the room : " if we're free, it's enough for
now." The question was settled with that au
dience, and better than I had done it with all my
arguments.' Again he produced a queer, thriUing,
oratorical effect upon his hearers. " Brethren, I do
not care if Jam a slave ; I have reached maturity,
and can endure it : but " (and here his voice feU

THE NEGEO. 167
almost to a whisper) " I have in yonder cabin a
child, a boy only five years of age, whom I love as
I do my life ; and I thank God, I thank God, that I
am a freeman, for his sake." Think of the kind of
people addressed, — unintelligent, rough, careless
field-hands ; and of him who, in that rudest of all
temples, spoke these lofty thoughts, — a man owned
by another, to whom Nature had given the genius
to see into and through the institution of slavery,
himself one of its victims, — and you will admit,
that the thought as well as the expression was
remarkable. I remember, too, some of his phrases : they were
very beautiful, and were epic in grandeur. He
spoke of " the rugged wood of the cross," whereto
the Saviour was nailed ; and, after describing that
scene with as much power as I have ever known
an orator to exhibit, he reached the climax, when
he pictured the earthquake which rent the veil of
the temple, with this extremely beautiful expres
sion: "And, my friends, the earth was unable to en
dure the tremendous sacrilege, and trembled." He
held his rude audience with most perfect control ;
subdued them, excited them, and, in fact, did what
he pleased with them. I recall one other expres
sion, which struck me as being very effective. He
was beseeching his people to walk in the paths of
virtue ; and, when referring to the awfnl penalties

168 THE NEGEO.
of disobedience, he said, "And, if you heed not the
lessons of this dear Saviour, you wUl inevitably go
to thai place which is filled voith the unmixed wrath
of Jehovah."
On coming out, I said, " This, of course, is a
speech which he has committed to memory." But
my friend assured me to the contrary. He said the
man could talk as brilliantly at any time, and on any
subject. Then my heart swelled against a system
which keeps such a man in degradation, and has a
well-regulated machinery which ruins the genius'
of a whole race. Commencing with the fatal pre
sumption, — and an abominable insult to the Al
mighty it is, — that, collectively and individually,
the blacks are imbeciles, these people have set to
work, and formed an organization as complete as
Masonry, within whose outer circle you and I can
no more enter, being abolitionists, than we who
are not masons can enter the door of a masonic
lodge. The chief aim of the members of this
organization being to make money ; to establish
an aristocracy and a wealthy landed gentry ; and
eventually, at some convenient time, to break the
bond of union with the republican North, and in
vite some cast-off European prince to come and
reign over them (for this latter purpose inheres in
the heart of the organization), — they hope to base
all this fine project upon the continued and sys-

THE NEGRO. 169
tematic subjection of four millions of men, who
are as bright mentally, and brighter morally, and
as valuable -by any measurement, as a large class
of poor whites, who, in the grand whirl of ihe vor
tex, are kept just enough under the water to be
helpless, craven, cowardly, and half-drowned. By
this subjection, based on the falsest philosophy and
the greatest inhumanity, they have kept this whole
population on a dead level, and that level as far
beneath the position of a free white man as is pos
sible. The clumsy, ungifted clod has been almost
equal to the bright and perhaps grandly gifted
genius. Slavery is the level ; and the mean ones
have only sunk down to utter laziness and stupidity,
the sign of which has been corded into their bare
backs by a rawhide lash, which cuts to the blood
at every stroke ; and the lofty ones, — those richly
endowed by nature, — who, like the same class of
persons in the white race, needed only mental
training and discipline to develop minds that could
coin thoughts far above yours or mine, have risen
above this level only to the position of the hostler
or the body-servant, and then, in their ascent, have
invariably come to the end of their tether. Not
only has there been no vent practically (though I
have often heard the delicate theory of planters on
this subject, through which they have been en
abled to rise by severing the tether, and reach
U

170 THE NEGEO.
the manhood of freedom), but any incipient aspira
tions after a position higher than that which has
been decreed their natural level by the fiat of
their solf-constiluted judges has been effectually
quenched, and driven back into the heart of the
victim, as we drive canker back into the blood by
alum, until, at last, it has well-nigh leavened the
life of every vein and artery, and compelled
the whole body to succumb to the mental and
moral death of hopeless servitude.
Carlyle says that a man has a divine right to any
position which he can possibly fill. If this is so,
the culpability of those who will persist in refusing
fair play in the general competition is beyond mea
sure. They are no part of the real American people,
cither in sympathy or worthiness. They have no
lot or part in the problem of political economy
which history has thrust upon us, but are its sworn
enemies. They are hostUe to democracy in their
politics, their social life and habits, and all their
institutions. For the last half-century this has
been ignored or denied, because the two sections
of country have been woven together by the mighty
web and woof of commercial interest ; but, when
the first gun was fired, the South took their proper
position, — the position of traitors, — and publicly
confessed that they had been plotting against the
North and liberty for a whole generation.

THE NEGRO. 171
StiU, America is the great arena in which free
government is to be tested. Not half of the con
tinent, but the whole of it, God gave us in 1776 ;
and as wc would repel any foreign invader of our
rights and our mission, so must we buckle on our
armor against the foe in our midst. The war may
last twenty years : still, if we yield, we fail, and
must hereafter hide our heads in shame. It is not
an optional matter with us. We cannot avoid
the tremendous responsibility. The avalanche has
started on its murderous path. If we have ma
chinery to stop it, well ; if not, we shall be crushed,
and America is no more.
I have always heard a great deal about the
patriarchal character of the planter. Indeed, in
conversing with gentlemen who owned large
estates, they have assured me in good faith, that
the relation between their slaves and themselves
was little short of parental. It is not only for the
interest of the planter, it is also his duty, they say,
to exercise a sort of providential vigilance over his
hands. These beings are dependent upon him ; and
he is bound, by all the obligations of a man of
honor and a Christian, to see that they are properly
cared for.
I was charmed with this picture of the institu
tion, and determined to look into the matter for my
self. I found the description all rhetoric, as I

172 THE NEGRO.
expected. Why, only the small planters, those who
own from ten to thirty hands, have any acquaint
ance whatever with their people. I never yet
have found a planter — and I have asked the ques
tion of two hundred — who could tell me the exact
number of blacks on his estate, without referring to.
his books. The master knows, by personal obser
vation, nothing of the way in which his slaves live.
Once a day, perhaps, he rides on his fine horse over
his grounds, and sees his hands at work in the dis
tance. The overseer comes up on his Creole pony,
and reports on the progress of the crop. This is
all the contact between the planter and the great
majority of his hands from one year to another. I
went into a negro cabin on one of the finest estates
on the river ; and the old uncle told me he had been
on the place twenty years, and his master had never
entered his door. So much for the parental inti
macy between the owner and the owned. The
truth is, the negro and the mule are reckoned
together. If both are tough and docile, it is well ;
if either is sick and dies, it is so much money out
of pocket. That is all the master cares for his
chattel. The negro repays this galling indifference and
this slavery by a quiet animosity against all white
men. He always hates his overseer, and considers
that he has done a good thing if he can disturb

THE NEGEO. • 173
him in any way. He dares not show it openly,
because the lash is the consequence; but once
lot him feel that he has the power, and he will
show the planter what he thinks this much-boasted
parental relation is worth. Already he begins to
exhibit his indifference ; and, in order to get the
same amount of work out of him, the overseer,
since the whip has been prohibited, is compelled to
offer all kinds of small inducements. The moment
he gets into a passion, and, forgetting that it is '63,
and not '61, strikes the black man, down go the
hoes and shovels of a dozen men, who stoutly
protest against such treatment ; while the victim
marches off, §pite of all entreaty, to the nearest
provost-marshal, to enter a complaint* If these
men are not ready to be freemen, they at least show
their unfitness to be slaves. It is plain enough that
they chafe, and long for something better.
Again : this love for their masters is shown by a
couple of little incidents, for the truth of which I
am able to vouch.
Mr. B  's slaves all skedaddled last autumn, '
and came up to the city. After some time, and by
a prudent expenditure among certain officers, most
of them were returned to his plantation. One boy,
however, was wanting. He was a valuable hand,
because he was a carpenter, and young and tough.
After searching all over the city for him in vain,

174 THE NEGEO.
he at last discovered that he had enlisted in one of
the colored regiments, and was then in quarters at
the Touro Buildings. He went there at once ; and
judge of his surprise, when, on entering the gate,
he saw Joe in a soldier's suit, with an Enfield rifle
in his hand, marching backwards and forwards,
doing duty as guard I Now, had it been a white
soldier, he would have politely lifted his hat, and
asked permission to pass. This,- of course, he could
not do to a boy he had paid two thousand dollars
for, and whom he had been accustomed to order
about as he chose. Besides, Joe seemed to take no
notice of him. Before this, if the boy met his mas
ter, he always lifted his hat ; but nojv he marched
back and forth as though unconscious that a South
ern gentleman was near him, his fine, stalwart form
shown off to great advantage by his soldier-clothes.
After a moment's hesitation, Mr. B  concluded
to run guard. It was, however, a signal failure.
The bayonet was in position in an instant, and in
dangerous proximity to his body.
" Why, damn it, Joe ! what are you doing?"
" Nobody can't pass, sir, widout a permit. Dose
my orders, sir."
" But don't you know me, Joe ? I have business
with j'^our colonel."
"Can't help it, sir, — must obey orders. FaU
back, sir I "

THE NEGRO. 175
Mr. B  then tried to send a. message to the
colonel ; but it was impossible. One negro would
pretend to take it, and come back, saying the colo
nel would be at leisure in a few moments. After
waiting a half-hour, another negro came down
stairs with the message, that the colonel was en
gaged, and could not see anybody. Poor Mr.
B  pocketed the insult, saw he could make
no headway, and went off cursing all negro regi
ments. Those negroes were all runaway slaves. They
had agreed that no white man should enter the gate,
unless he had on a uniform. When one came, they
did not "master" him: itwas"sir." Oh,yesI they
undoubtedly love their owners ; and, when in their
presence, will delive,r their muskets up at once,
knowing by the law of nature that they are the
superior race !
Another gentleman found a favorite slave in the
same regiment. In some way, he managed to elude
the guard, and got into the building to search for
his chattel. Pretty soon he heard a very sugges
tive whiz, and discovered to his surprise that a
respectable cobble-stone had been on an excursion.
Thinking nothing of it, he proceeded on his way ;
when another came whizzing by, this time alto
gether too close for comfort. He then discovered
that he was himself the target, and that, by some

176 THE NEGRO;
good luck, the target had been missed twice. Not
caring to test the accuracy of negro aim a third
time, he began a masterly retreat. Before he got
fairly out of the yard, however, he was the victim
of a pretty serious joke. Little and big stones-
dropped close to him ; all sorts of filth dropped on
him ; and he concluded that hunting up slaves who
have got on the United-States uniform is not what
some people may think it is. I could not help
drawing another conclusion when I heard the story,
for the victim told it to me himself; viz., that after
all the superfluous rhetoric about the patriarchal
institution, and the tender affection between owner
and owned, there was another side to the story, —
the side of fact, stern and inevitable, which shows
us the slave hating his master, and wanting only
the opportunity and the power to show it.
The question has been asked. Will the negroes
fight? Wiseacres, generally negrophobes, and
members of the copperhead order of politicians,
have shaken their heads, and deduced all sorts of
d priori arguments to prove that they are all cow
ards. Their confreres in the South have laughed
the scheme to scorn, and told us that the negro
does not know which end of the rifle is the but,
and which the muzzle ; and that he always trembles
when a gun .is fired. So weighty has been. the
logic used, that the people have kept very quiet on

THE NEGRO. 177
the subject ; feeling that it is like thin ice, a little
dangerous for a man who wants to keep his head
above water, and that it is best to leave it to take
care of itself. Only a few fanatics, who never
take a practical view of any subject, have sworn
that the blacks will fight, as well as white men;
but their voices have not been heeded. This coma
of the people, at last, or rather at first, found its
way into the "WTiite House ; and he, the honest
President, who always wants the dear people to
instruct him how to act, concluded that a kind
Providence would make the suggestion when it
was time to act, and so did nothing. A few black
soldiers were enlisted by Gen. Sherman, who re
ceived very vague orders to make such use of
negroes as he saw fit ; though he was given to
understand, that he was not to arm them gene-
raUy. These troops very soon learned which was
the but, and which the muzzle, of the rifle ; and
dressed into as straight a line, and went through
the manual as accurately, as their white brethren.
StiU no impression was made on the people. Then
Higginson, with his regiment, committed all sorts of
depredations on the rebels ; went out on daring re-
connoissances, had pitched battles with the enemy,
and did not show the white feather. He says,
" The blacks are brave, true, soldierly-, and uncon
ditionally loyal." 15

178 THE NEGEO.
Then there have been numberless instances of
personal daring and heroism which ought not to be
forgotten. I have a selrvant (Tom Taylor), black
and shiny as patent-leather, who was present at the
battle of Baton Rouge, and behaved splendidly.
He was the only man on the field with an ambu
lance. He caught a runaway horse and buggy,
and drove where the fight was thickest ; and, when
a soldier fell, he took him in his arms, placed him
in his buggy, and drove him to the hospital.
This he continued to do while the fight lasted.
Gen. Dudley spoke in the highest terms of his
bravery, and said he did good service on that
bloody day.
He came to me one morning in great heat, and
trembling violently.
"Why, Tom! what's the matter?"
" 0 lieutenant I my old master's down below, an'
I 'spec' he wants me. Now, I tell you what : if a
white man acts gallantly on de field, and gives eb-
bery ting he got for his country, de people aU
praise him ; but, if a black man does the same
ting, nobody cares a cent. Now, I did aU I could
at Baton Rouge ; and what I ought to have is my
freedom." " And that, Tom, you shaU have. If your mas
ter comes to .get you, I wUl most assuredly shoot
him,"

THE NEGEO. 179
He did not fear rebel bullets ; but at thought of
his master, and a return to slavery, his joints
gave way, and he muttered and stuttered so that I
could hardly understand him.
He was in high spirits the next day, as cheery
as a cricket, and made a characteristic speech:
" Lieutenant," he said, " de ole flag neber did wave
quite right. There was something wrong about
it, — there wasn't any star in it for the black man.
Perhaps there was in those you made in de North ;
but, when they got down here, the sun was so hot,
we couldn't see it. But, since the war, it's all right.
The black man has his star : it is the big one in the
middle." Tom is a rough boy ; but, unconsciously,
he once in a while stumbles upon a huge fact.
Gen. Butler told the truth when he said it was
because the negro was a fighter that he was cap
tured, and sold into slavery. Had he been a stick,
he would have skulked behind a tree at that par
ticular time, and would now be quietly eating his
tropical mush under the shade of a banana-tree in
the Guinea Coast.
It is not necessary to refer to historical instances
of the daring of the blacks ; to teU over again how
they fought under Toussaint L'Overture, until the
tried troops of Napoleon stood stiU in astonishment,
and then beat a hasty retreat : nor is it necessary
to speak of those forces which have always formed

180 THE NEGRO.
a part of every European corps d'armSe. These
facts are aU familiar, and even trite ; and they seem
to produce no influence whatever. Either our pre
judice or our ignorance is so mighty, that we have
predetermined not to give the negroes the benefit
of the doubt, and try them. " Give them guns, put
them into the field, and bring them up into line of
battle in front of those who have been in the habit
of commanding them, — the true Southern gentle
men, — and they will throw away their arms, and
flee in terror like so many monkeys." That is
what we are told ; and we more than half be
lieve it.
Mr. J. B. Jones has published what he thinks —
and he is entirely correct in his estimate — is a
remarkable book. It was written some years ago,
and pretends to. give a transcript of some of the
scenes which would occur if a civil war should
ever come upon us. Among other subjects, he, of
course, has something to say of the negro, — not in
his capacity as a field or a house servant, but as a
soldier enlisted by the fanatic North. I will give
his own words, sure that they will explain them
selves : —
" Every disposition had been made for a decisive
battle the following day ; and most of the officers
retired early to their couches in quest of repose.
Gen. Toler alone was wakeful, and strode to and

THE NEGEO. 181
fro in his tent. On turning once, he saw the
canvas slightly agitated. He paused, and gazed
steadily ; and, a moment after, the foUowing words
reached his ear : —
" Massa John I Massa John ! "
" Who's there ? " demanded the general,
" It's me, Massa John."
" And who the devil's me ? Let me see your
face." " Don't you know me, Massa John ? " asked a
very black negro, creeping under the canvas, and
rising in front of the astonished general.
" If it were riot for the red flannel on your collar,
and epaulet on your shoulder, with bright but
tons and sword, I should say you were my slave
Scipio." " Dat's it, dat's it, Massa John I " said the negro.
" I am so still, dough dey call me Capt. Scip. I
been belonging to de grand army under Gen. Fell."
" And now you have deserted to your master, '
Scip ? "
" Not dzactly. dat, Massa John : but d — n if I
fight, Massa John ; and dat's de way all de niggers
is thinking and talking too I "
" Ha ! is that so, Scipio ? " asked the general
quickly, at the same time advancing, and grasp
ing the hand of his faithful slave.
" It's just so, Massa John ! " replied Scipio, while

182 THE NEGRO.
great tears ran down his cheeks. " You know you
learnt me to read, Massa John ? Well, I got one of
de plocklamations of Gen. Ruffleton," — a supposed
rebel general, in whom the negro confides naturally,
— " which says we'se all to be slaves in de North
as well as in de South. I had it and kept it for
more dan a week, and read it every night by de
pine knots to the colored captains, till I got through
wid 'em all."
" You did, Scipio ? "
" Sartain, Massa John ! De niggers ain't 'lowed
to be higher dan captain. But all de captains is
been splanin de plocklamation to de men ; and now
we'se all ready."
" Ready for what, Scipio ? "
" To break up and go home, Massa John, and
'tend to our work among our wifes and children."
" Is that so, Scipio ? Why, it is understood FeU
intends to lead you into battle to-morrow."
" I know dat, Massa John ! We said he must let
us fight, or we'd desart. I put 'em all up to dat,
Massa John ; and now all's 'ranged. To-morrow, all
you'll have to do wiU be to jus gallop your white
horse right up to us, and order us to throw down
our arms, and go about our business. Dat's all ! "
" Scipio, I know you love me. We were boys
together, almost like brothers" (and, indeed, the
slave in the South is more like a member of his

THE NEGEO. 183
master's family than the free negro of the North is
like a freeman), " Scipio, I shall trust you. If you
deceive me, I shall perish, and my death will weigh
upon your conscience."
" Stop, Massa John ; you're breaking my heart 1"
exclaimed Scipio, prostrating himself, and embra
cing his master's knees. " But if Scipio's 'ceiving
Massa John, dat he loves so much, may he roast in
brimstone fires for eber and eber 1 "
" I wUl trust you, Scipio. You wiU know me
by my white horse, which you trained from a colt ;
and I am sure he would know you, if it were not
for your military trappings. When you see me
approach, contrive to be near the spot where I
shaU address the men."
" I'U be dar, Massa John, — never fear ! And
all de captains and all de men will know what's to
be done. I've been preparing 'em ! Dey all un
derstand. De white horse'U be looked for. Ride
right up to us. Nebber mind what the white
soldiers say: dey'U think you're desartin."
" Scipio, your hand 1 If this scheme of yours
succeeds " —
" Now, don't say so, Massa John ; don't say I
shall have my freedom. I want to be wid you all
your life ; and I won't be free, no how you can fix
it." " Then fareweU, Scipio, tiU to-morrow ! "

184 THE NEGRO.
"A moment after, Scipio disappeared; and the
general resumed his promenade, resolved to hazard
every thing on the fidelity of his slave.
" Early in the morning. Gen. Fell put his army
in motion, and Gen. Toler awaited his approach
behind the breastworks which had been constructed
the day before. Not a shot was fired, except at the
extreme left, where the white soldiers engaged; and
these formed but an inconsiderable portion of Fell's
army. On the black mass advanced, maintaining
an ominous silence. The white officers were in the
' rear, urging the slaves before them ; while FeU him
self looked on in amazement from a neighboring
hUl. No smoke arose from the plain ; no reports
of fire-arms were heard, save from the most distant
part of the field.
" It was then that Gen. Toler, in despite of remon-
stances, gaUoped towards the interminable array of
slaves ; nor did he pause until he was within a few
paces of the foremost ranks, and not a shot had
been fired at him.
" What are you doing here ? " he exclaimed in a
loud voice. '^ Why are you in 6,rms against your
masters ? I tell you, the Northern abolitionists
have deceived you. They are determined to be
your masters themselves ; and you all know what
hard masters the Yankees make. Throw down
your arms, and go home, and I will forgive you.
Go, I say 1 "

THE NEGEO. 185
" Then Scipio rushed out of the ranks, and gave
the preconcerted signal ; and the sky was rent with
cheers for Gen»Toler and the South.
" They threw down their arms ; but, a moment
after, snatched them up again, and demanded to be
led against Fell, who had deceived them."
This certainly is a remarkable piece of light lite
rature. Mr. Jones is a confrere of the Rev. Samuel
A., or rather his competitor ; for the struggle with
both is to teU a lie so huge, that it shall look like
the truth. This writer of light literature knew per
fectly well, that a Northerner — at least one who
was likely tp see disagreeable things — was effect
ually tabcoed aU tours of investigation or pleasure
south of Washington by the prospect of tar and
other unpleasant and odorous appliances, with
which the chivalry have been in the habit of treat
ing every honest man ; and, standing within the
, charmed circle himself (he is probably a Yankee,
who has married a plantation), he is desirous of
instructing the outside barbarians how they treat
the animals in the menagerie, and so tells us what
we are told by all other planters, — that the owner
makes every possible effort to be a father to all on
his estate ; and I am willing to take his own testi
mony, and admit, that his labor in this direction is
excessire, and that, to a greater or less extent, he
succeeds.

186 THE NEGRO.
" Who does the best his circumstance allows,
Does well, acts nobly: angels could no more."
I feel sure that the whole commiiuity of South
ern gentlemen were delighted with this publica
tion. They laughed in their sleeves as lie after lie
rolled up on each successive page, and wondered
if there was even a Northern man with Southern
feelings who would be deceived by it. Neverthe
less, they subscribed largely to " secretly circulate "
this " political and inflammatory document " among
the unenUghtened heathen of the North. Ah ! Mr.
Cartwright, you sold all your honesty and manhood
to a wealthy parish ; and poor, dear Mr. Jones, you
filled your pockets with silver. You have both
done very well in this world ; for your strategy has
been masterly. But I fear there is not a sensible
school-boy who is not able to give the exact lati
tude and longitude of your geographical position
in the hereafter : if you prefer Dante, it wUl be at
the pole ; and, if you have an affection for Milton, it
wUl be in the tropics.
I said to a huge negro the other day, —
" Tom, they tell me that you won't fight if you
do enlist ; and that you love your masters so much,
that, the moment you meet them on the battle-field,
you wiU throw down your own arms, and rush into
theirs. Is that so ? " «
He was leaning against a gate-post, with his

THE NEGRO. 187
arms folded ; but he straightened up at my ques
tion, and his dull eye flashed as he replied, —
" Lieutenant, I know dey says dese tings ; but
dey lies. Our masters may talk now all dey choose;
but one ting's sartin, — dey don't dare to try vs.
Jess put de guns into our bans, and you'll soon see
dat we not only knows how to shoot, but who to
shoot. My master wouldn't be wuff much ef I was
a soldier." This little speech of Tom's is the solid, homely
truth of the matter. It is impossible for me to use
such forcible or expressive language ; but it is
just what I have meant in the last dozen pages.
Now for the great fact of the matter, — the fact
of the war, which dashes aU theories of Southern
ers and copperheads with tears. The bubble has
been shivered into a thousand atoms, like a Prince
Rupert's glass, by the storming of Port Hudson.
The pluck of the negro as a soldier was fairly tried
there in one of the hottest charges of the war.
There were two regiments of Louisiana negroes in
the right wing of the attacking force. Nobody
trusted them. The West-Point generals shirked
the responsibiUty of having them in their brigades.
They were nothing but " nigger regiments," — the
exponents of a pet idea of certain crazy people in
the North. • The Southerners joined in the chorus
of croakers, and sneered, and intimated that things

188 THE NEGEO.
were come to a pretty pass when we put guns into
the hands of men who were as likely to shoot them
selves as any one else, and drew them up in line
against the chivalry of the South ; and so the whole
current of popular feeling was against them. StUl
they drilled well ; yes, they dressed into line mag
nificently, — a stalwart, heavy-chested set of fel
lows 1 They handled their muskets, too, in very
soldierly fashion ; but it was only by resolutely
stemming the tide, by the most independent per
sistence, that the regiments kept their position.
When first formed, they were laid on "the shelf.
They camped in the mud in Algiers or Baton
Rouge eighteen months, rubbing their gun-barrels.
At last came the siege of Port Hudson. Every
man was needed ; and, more and better. Banks had
no prejudice ag9,inst color. In spite of some oppo
sition, they were put into the field by the side of
white soldiers. They were quiet, remaining within
their camp-lines, holding their little meetings,
hardly ever riotous, seldom drunk, never trespass
ing- beyond their lines ; and their presence was
soon forgotten.
In good time, the morning came when the first
assault was made. The distance between the camp
of the assaulting party and the works of the enemy
was a half-mUe, more or less. The ground was
ragged a,nd broken, full of guUies, and strewn with

THE NEGRO, 189
timber placed there by the rebels to obstruct our
progress. When our forces got near enough to the
fortifications, they had to sustain, besides the direct
fire. upon their front, a severe enfilading fire from
some heavy guns. Altogether, it was an assault
that required men of the utmost daring and pluck.
The charge was ordered. The negro regiments
advanced, and very soon came into the grape of
the foe. They had never smelt powder before ; but
(their officers say) there was an eagerness, a wild,
uncontrollable enthusiasm, about them, which was
quite wonderful. They charged directly in the
face of the storm of bullets, square up to the ditch,
which is on this side the earth-works, and six feet
deep and twenty feet wide. They were most
horridly cut up ; yet they retired in good order,
and, when called again into line, answered at once.
A second time, on the double-quick, they rushed
up to the ditch, and again fell back. They were
dressed into line a third time, and advanced.
" When within a few rods of the enemy's works,"
said one of their officers, " they became perfectly
uncontrollable. We could not keep up with them.
Their eagerness never was matched. Instead of
cowardice, they seemed to have no conception of
fear. The ditch troubled them. The enemy,
their masters, whom they love so dearly, were
beyond; and they chafed beyond measure. Just

190 THE NEGRO.
then, the two regiments set up a yeU, They were
close to the foe. It was a sound unlike any thing
I ever heard, — a wUd, unearthly noise. It came
across me at the time, that it was the slavery of a
thousand years finding vent."
The vexed question is settled for ever, thank
God ! The commanding general, in his official re
port, speaks in the most complimentary way of
their behavior. They have fairly won a name, and
won it by undoubted bravery. If, after this, we
talk of negro regiments sneeringly, we are to be
pitied for our littleness, and despised for our ig
norance. The only difficulty to be found with
them is one not often complained of. It is, that
they are apt to go too far. They become passion
ate, fearfully excited, and their officers lose control
of them. In battle they are not merciful. So com
plete is their hatred of the rebels, that they want
to exterminate them. It would hardly do to put
a copperhead general over a brigade of negroes;
one, for instance, like that worthy of the Potomac
army, who disgraced a lieutenant the other day
for taking a chicken from a secessionist, and who
wants to fight in such way, that, if any blood is
spiUed, it shall be our boys who bleed, and not
the traitors. He would be most horridly shocked
to see the way in which the negroes go into
battle ; and would surely predict, alas 1 that the

THE NEGRO. 191
end of the war was close at hand. One thing is
certain: it wUl be a most unfortunate thing for
our " erring Southern brethren " when we con
clude to do what we ought to have had sense
enough to do a year and a half ago, — recruit all
the able-bodied blacks on the plantations, in every
Southern department, and then send our own boys
home to keep up the arts of peace, and do such a
thriving business that we shall not feel the weight
of the war-tax. That can be done ; and, when it
is done, we shaU have one of the most terrible
forces of fighting material the world ever saw. I
do not know that it would be terrible in Mexico or
Europe, or against any other foe. But I am "will
ing to aver, after a nine-months' intimate acquaint
ance with thousands of negroes, that, between them
and the whites of the South, there exists a most
deadly hostility. It is the natural result of years
of slavery. Let the planter talk as he pleases
about cowardice, ignorance, and love of the master.
Put a goed gun into his slave's hands, let him know
that he will be protected, and you may stake your
life that he will make a bee-line for his master's
house, with bayonet fixed ; and, when he comes
out of the door again, the same man does not own
him. One of the brightest boys now before Port Hud
son I brought from a plantation in the TSche, and

192 THE NEGRO.
put into the army. He is as tough as a pine-knot ;
has lived out of doors all his life ; is not afraid of
chills and fever ; has never been attacked with
that formidable climatic disease caUed debUitas,
for which there is no remedy, but which yet is
actuaUy so decimating our army, that, one day, two
regiments reported for duty, respectively, ninety
men and sixty men. He was sitting in my room
one day, talking of the army.
" Lieutenant, why don't the Union people MU
more? What for dey take any prisoners? Why
don't dey sweep 'em, like as with a broom ? then
we'll be all right, and can commence aU over
again." " Because, George, that would not be right."
" What ! not right to kill your enemies ? I tell
you what, — we black people won't be troubled
much in that way."
"Why, you would not kill, when there is no
need ; would you ? "
" But there is need. The Bible says, sweep 'emi
with a besom. Clear the country. There is no
good in any of them. You'se too merciful 1 "
" Not more merciful, George, than we ought to
be. I fear you hate all the Southerners."
" Of course I do 1 " And he turned round in his
chair, as though surprised that I thought he could
do any thing else. " Kill 'em aU ! that is my
motto."

THE NEGRO. 193
" George, you should hate nobody," I said, very
tamely indeed; for I knew the fellow was more
than half right.
" 0 lieutenant 1 it's very well for you to tal^ ;
you can afford to : you haven't got any thing partic-
'lar against them fokes. Your back ain't cut up as
mine is. You ain't heard screamin' wimmin, and
seen the blood run at every lick, just 'cause a woman
wouldn't leave her husband and sleep with the over
seer. They never done you such tilings ; but I could
kill 'em easy, — children, wimmin, and all."
This is a fair exhibition of the real feeUng be
tween the slave and the white man.
There is no reasonable doubt, that the negro can
be made to carry on this war. He is providentially
placed in our way for this very purpose. Matters
have so arranged themselves, that he can be the
means, after we have tardUy and half mistrustfully
told him he is free, of bringing out of the blood
and slaughter of these years the new Union ; when
the country shall be so equalized, that the New-
Englander can go to Charleston, and say what he
pleases with impunity; and when, instead of sneer
ing at our free schools, the Southerners will dot the
hillsides and plains of the South with the little red
ochre roofs, beneath which the history of true
republicanism must always be written. God grant
that we may not blunder in this thing ! We need
16

194 THE NEGRO.
our boys at home, and we can have them here as
well as not. We need the negro in the field ; and,
ever since the war broke out, he has been beseech
ing, as a privilege, that he might fight for his conn-
try. Down with all prejudice 1 it has kept us back
long enough. Do justice to others, and then we
shall begin to see the end, the glorious end, where
is victory, peace, prosperity, and a better Union
than we have ever had.

CHARACTERS. 195

CHAPTER V.
CHARACTERS.
I THINK it is very generally conceded that war
is not only a terrible evil, but also a terrible
necessity. To be sure, the race has reached such a
point of culture, that the love of mere mUitary fame
has weU-nigh departed from our history, and there
is not the same satisfaction which the heroes of the
olden time seemed to feel in a continuous career of
bloodshed, daring exploits, and narrow escapes.
We enter upon a war only as a last resort, and then
with the greatest reluctance. Still, in our own
short history, reaching back some two centuries,
we have had four wars, which were felt in the very
heart of ^the nation. Almost every generation
passes through an experience of this kind. When I
was younger, and eager that the millennium should
be reached at once, I felt that every century de
creased the number of wars ; but I now find that
the chief difference between the nineteenth century
and its predecessors lies in the patent fact, that our
contests are sharper, and more quickly over. This
is due to the murderous character of the machinery

196 CHAEACTEES.
used. Years ago, two armies might have a pitched
battle, and struggle from sunrise to sunset, leaving
on the field no more than we now leave after a hot
fight of a couple of hours.
Nor do I see so much likelihood that the time will
ever come, when human passions, and royal and pe
dagogical and popular caprice, shall be so subdued,
and human interests so directed, that the resort to
arms wiU not be thought of. Our progress in this
matter has been so slow, and war seems to occupy
so prominent and important a position in history,
that I find my time better employed in discovering
the uses of war, than in seeking evidence of its very
general decrease. These " offences " must come :
it is in the nature of things that they shall. Un
der the overruling Providence, the crushing, social
avalanche, leaving death and desolation in its track,
undoubtedly has its mission, and accomplishes some
great good. " But woe unto that man by whom
they come ! "
I know the terrible war-storm is horrible. Thou
sands of homes are in tears : mothers and fathers
are praying that their households may escape the
fiery death-shaft. The eyes ache as they look on
the vast ruin, and the heart aches as it recognizes
the necessity of such wild sorrow. Society is
roughly purged of its evils ; but when the storm
is over, and the thundering of artillery has ceased.

CHAEACTEES. 197
we find that our world is, after all, a better world.
It is terrible treatment ; but it cures us of aU our
Uls. See if it is not so.
First, Society, which was, through a long peace,
sluggish, careless, and duUed by long prosperity,
is roused, awakened, and completely thrown out of
its old Ufe into a new one. New powers are devel
oped, and a better knowledge of itself is gained.
It learns to estimate its blessings more justly, and
to recognize its duties more acutely.
Secondly, The men who controUed society, and
who had begun to be old, conservative, and rusty,
being unable to meet the great emergency, are aU
swept away ; and the tremendous convulsion gives
birth to a new set of men ; men with fresher minds
and impulses ; men eager, because they have young
blood in them, to grapple with the new difficulties
of the new life.
It is in this way that society has always been
remodeUed. In a long peace, men shrink up, and
become seffish. Every thing, even literature
and religion, grows stale and musty. Nobleness
narrows to meanness ; chivalry, to cowardice ;
and the greatest and best aims of Ufe are lost
in selfishness. Iron-handed war is our great phy
sician. I am particularly interested in some of the
scenes which occur while the convulsion is taking

•198 CHAEACTEES.
place. How beautifully human nature uncovers
itself, and displays all its fair proportions and all
its ugliness ! The inmost depths of the soul are
opened to view. Elements of character, which in
peace were latent, rise at once to the surface. In
a week, ay, in a day, men change their estimates
of themselves, and we change our valuation of
them. The old scales and the old rule are thrown
out of doors upon the heap of rubbish ; for the
mere feet and inches high of one's social position,
and the pounds and ounces of his fortune, no longer
make a man great or little in our estimation. For
the nonce, intrinsic worth alone brings honor
and the love of the people. The showy shams,
who have gilded themselves all over, and, by a
peculiar genius for wriggling, have worked their
way up so high that their folly is all the more con
spicuous, come tumbling down to the ground with
a crash ; while the modest youth, whose only care
has been not to attract attention, is pushed, by the
actual force of his own merit, into the admiration
of society. After a six -months' campaign, the
little ones, whether they have shoulder-straps or
not, are known and trusted for just what they are,
and not one iota more ; and the brave ones, pri
vates and officers, rise to the proper level in the
estimation pf the regiment, which is a community
whose public opinion is omnipotent.

CHARACTERS, 199
When the war first broke out, it was proposed
in town-meeting, that a jegiment be gathered
from the young men of the county, and their ser
vices tendered to the Government. Old Mr. Bagg,
whose blood runs sluggishly enough now, and-who,
of course, does not appreciate this generous out-
gush of enthusiasm, opposed the motion. He did
not believe in war ; first, because he was old,
was working his way along quietly towards the
grave, and did not want to be disturbed by torch
light processions, fiery speeches, and flaming
articles in the " County Gazette." He is not to
blame for all this. It is one of the legitimate
consequences of growing old. Forty years ago,
he would have applied at once for a commis
sion, and gone to the field with a wUdly beating,
eager heart ; but forty years have had their influ
ence, and now he believes in peace at any cost.
Second, he did not believe in war, — though he
does not state this in his speech, — because he is
doing a large business, which will be seriously
affected by the loss of the Southern trade. If you
should tell him that this was one reason why he
was a peace-man, he would probably feel insulted ;
for it may be that he is not aware of it himself, so
subtly do a man's interests influence his opinions.
At any rate, he uses strong language at the town-
meeting, is hissed by the young men, grows red

200 CHARACTERS,
and very indignant ; and, from the moment he sits
down, he firmly believes that the nation is insanely
running its head against the wall, and that the new
generation, who are taking matters into their own
hands, have sadly degenerated from the standard
of their fathers. He is supported in his position
by a dozen or a score of white-headed men, who
have not been able to keep up with the times ; and
by a dozen young men, whose conservatism indi
cates the presence of some physical disease, and
who should at once be confined to the hospital,
and dosed until their blood runs faster. These men
form a clique ; and, while the war lasts, they will
stand aloof, and grumble. Every defeat they
will chuckle over, and every victory they will
sneer at. They are a constant irritation, and a
perpetual nuisance : stiU, the best way is to let
them talk freely, and make no reply. Pray, don't
fall into error, and convene an indignation meet
ing, and vote to ride them on a rail. This will
never do. You are five hundred, and they are
fifty ; and I remember the impulsive generosity in
the great public heart. If you proceed to ex
tremes, you will only make them conspicuous, and
excite pity for them, and convert them into mar
tyrs ; in which case, the chances are that they
will run for one of the town-offices the next
year, and get into a place where they can do you

CHARACTERS. 201
harm. Let them alone, and they will die a natural
death. By an overwhelming majority, it is voted to
raise the regiment; and, in thirty days, the thing
is done. But matters do not run quite smoothly.
The colonel is just the man to command a large
body of soldiers. He has a splendid figure, looks
like a brigadier in his uniform, and made a thou
sand rousing speeches, that caused all the youths
to shout, and all the young girls to clap their little
gloved hands with delight. He will, undoubtedly,
do himself and the country great credit. The
lieutenant -colonel — Heaven only knows how he
got his commission — is quiet, modest Mr, Tagg,
who never went to parties, but was always moping
over his books, — the very last man who should
go into the field. A great many wise men shake
their heads, and feel that he is one of the unfortu
nate appointments. Then there is Capt. Blunt, who
has always had a reputation for courage, and
who has told large stories of his brave deeds in
the woods, among the wolves and panthers. When
he gets hold of the rebels, there wiU be warm
work. He will cpme home all covered with blood,
powder-stains, and glory. But there is Capt. Rack,
of whom little is expected. He was the vil
lage dandy. He always wore spotless linen and
gloves. His hair was never out of order, and his
17

202 CHARACTERS.
handkerchief was always redolent of some sweet
perfume. How the young ladies can spare him, no
one knows ; and how he can deprive himself of
their society, is an equal mystery. But there he
stands, fearfully tidy, in front of his company;
whUe the old men look at him with a kind of dis
gust, and bet that he will faU to the rear when the
first musket is fired.
And so, throughout the regiment, the officers
have aU been gained by the usual amount of wire-
puUing, and proper and prudent expenditure of
small and large sums of money. The villagers
have formed their opinion of each, and feel sure
that the said opinion is correct. A thousand un
tried men, who are to enter a new field, to walk
through a fiery furnace which will surely try the
inmost soul of each, stand there, dressed into line,
with bright buttons, muskets, and swords; while
maidens, mothers, fathers, and wives look on with
mingled pride and sadness.
At length, they are in the field. There are no
tents now, and only hard-tack and coffee for food.
They are to sleep under the trees or in the bushes ;
and, to-morrow, they are to charge the enemy's
works. Those works are on the other edge of the
plain, right ahead of them ; and, every once in a
whUe, a quart of grape comes whistling through
the woods, and more than once the sharpshooters

CHARACTERS. 203
have picked off a man. They have been in the
service six months ; but they have never smelt
powder before.
The next morning comes ; and, with three other
regiments, they are formed into line of battle, and
commence the approach. The fire in the furnace
is growing hot now. It is impossible to avoid the
ordeal. What is in the men's souls will certainly
be forced out. The enemy says nothing; for he
has no powder to lose. You will hear from him
soon. On they march, — tramp, tramp, tramp ; and
when within fifty rods, just as the order to double-
quick is given, whiz, whiz, come the leaden ounces,
and rut, rut, comes the grape by the half-bushel. A
dozen, twenty, fifty, ay, a hundred, fall. Now, then,
where's that colonel who looked so like a briga
dier ? You may look twice, and not find him. He
has been having symptoms of the colic for the last
three days, and this morning it came on with tre
mendous force. You will find him on his back,
under a tree, jUst out of range of the enemy's
guns ; and, until he sees you, he is very quiet.
But such is the nature of his disease, that, the
moment you approach, he applies both hands to the
stomachic regions, and utters such piteous groans,
that, unless you are an old soldier, you will proba
bly waste a half-hour sitting by his side and com
forting him. He groans out in intervals, " It's too

204

CHARACTERS.

bad — just as we were — going to have a fight ! If
I was only " — (here a double-headed groan) —
" well — I would like to make these feUows — feel
my sword."
WeU, where is modest Mr. Tagg ? He is not a
man of words ; but the boys all like him. He has
been kind, strict, and considerate, and has done
all he could for the command. You will find him
at the head of his regiment; and when the line
breaks, because the balls come like a shower, he
quietly walks along its whole length, saying a few
kind words, which thrill his men, and compel them
to foUow wherever he will lead. His quick ej'e
notes at once the absentees. Away back there,
he sees Capt. Blunt, who has fought so many
panthers, lying snugly on the ground, determined
not to be killed this time, and complaining of a
sun-stroke, though the sun has not been up an
hour. And that village dandy — how slovenly he
looks ! He is a dirty fellow, and white gloves
would look very badly on his hands now ; but he
is a plucky boy, and has got a blazing fire in his
eye and in his heart. His company will fight.
They laughed at first ; but that's all over, and now
they are ready to take their captain in their arms.
They trust him perfectly. He is in the right place
at last.
And so it is throughout the regiment. When

CHARACTERS. 205
the two hours of fighting are over, the courage,
the mettle, of each man is settled for ever; and
such a climbing-up of new idols, and puUing-down
of old ones, never was seen. Captains and colonels
are proved not to be fit for privates ; and corporals
and privates have shown themselves plucky, calm,
splendid soldiers. The regiment all know who is
big, and who little, after that ; and their estimate
is not quite like that of the villagers, as they stood
in line on the green in front of their homes. They
know why the colonel had the colic ; and tbat man
can never control them again. Tagg is their mas
ter ; and, when he nods, they obey. Capt. Blunt
don't tell any more panther stories ; or if, by an
unlucky chance, he begins one, some innuendo puts
a sudden stop to his nonsense. That two-hours'
fight was like a sieve into which a shovelful of
gravel had been thrown. The sieve was most ter
ribly shaken ; and, do what it would, the sand fell
through, and only the pebbles remained.
It is very curious to note the diseases with which
certain soldiers are afflicted when the news of an im
pending battle comes. While some who are in the
hospital insist upon joining their regiments, others,
seemingly healthy and robust, insist upon occupy
ing the bedsteads emptied. I think there must be
something deleterious in the air: for these most
alarming symptoms appear ; and the patient who

206 CHARACTERS.
yesterday was bullying the men of his squad has
put on the most lugubrious face, and looks as though
the smallest youth in the company might knock him
over with impunity. He has a terrible pain in his
right arm, and has dropped his musket three times
while on drill ; and then, again, he has a very queer
feeling in his legs, and sometimes his knees wiU
shake so that he can hardly stand up. Poor fellow !
If you judge of his sickness by the length of his
face and his piteous tones, you would order the
company-carpenter to make a pine box at once. If
the surgeon has just been enlisted, and is a little
verdant, he will probably dose the boy for the next
three days, and congratulate himself at the end of
that time, when the battle is over, on his skill in
reaching and removing disease. If he has been a
surgeon before, he wUl either report the man as
a shirk, and see that he is put in the front rank on
the morrow ; or else, in the kindness of his heart,
will recommend a few days of perfect quiet in the
hospital, his rations to be corn-meal gruel three
times a day, and a blue pill every night. But what
are three blue pills to an ounce of lead ? To be
sure, in the aggregate, blue pills have killed more
than the lead : but these particular three will do no
harm; for the cunning dog, who knows his own
disease, the moment the nurse's back is turned,
quietly disposes of the deadly ball by throwing it
out of the window.

CHARACTERS. 207
There is another class of men who go to the war,
though not to fight, who ought to be noticed.
When the column is formed, they are always in
their places ; but, when the grape comes, they are
to be found in the rear with a sprained ankle, or
terribly overcome by fatigue, or sitting behind a
thick stump, fixing some part of the gun, which got
out of order when the enemy fired the first shot,
and which will not get into order again until the
retreat is sounded, when its bearer will lead the ad
vance ; or, again, until the shout of victory rends
the air, when he wiU be found among his comrades,
perspiring freely, and telling of the way in which
he dropped one big rebel, who would certainly have
killed him if he had not — " Retreated behind a
stump," says a little noiseless fairy — drawn a bead
on him just as he did. There are always fifteen or
twenty such fellows in a regiment, whose rhetoric,
when they are at home, is of the most marveUous
order ; who make themselves the means of many a
wretch's death ; but who take precious care not to
get near enough to the enemy to do any damage,
or to be damaged. They are disciples of Butler,
believing that he was a logician and a philanthro
pist when he wrote, —
" Those that fly may fight again ;
Which he can never do that's slain:
Hence timely running's no mean part
Of conduct in the martial art."

208 CHAEACTEES.
If a man who talks of the war tells you large
stories, you may put it down as a mathematical cer
tainty, that he kept out of range of the enemy's
guns. There is something so terrible in a battle,
the shock to the nervous system is so great, that
he who has been in the thick fight seldom prates of
it, never jests at it.
" He jests at scars who never felt a wound."
There is another large class of persons who are
thrown to the surface by the war : I mean the
vampires. These make a numerous famUy, and are
of all possible sizes ; some sucking only a few drops
of blood, and others fiUing themselves to repletion.
They are an anomalous race, and have full swing
for their propensities, only when society is in confu
sion. They are to be dreaded, and to be hated ; for
they have souls so small, that the angel's micro
scope will hardly discover them; and so mean and
corrupt, that resurrection will be simply an act
of mercy. I have had occasion to watch this thrifty
family, — the direct descendants of the unrepent
ant thief, — and am surprised at the vast number
engaged, in and out of the army, in cheating. The
actual first cost of subsisting our army, and of the
war, is only about one-fifth of the amount stated as
the national debt. The remaining four-fifths, on
which rich and poor have to pay taxes, is found in

CHARACTERS. 209
the splendid equipages which fill Central Park, and
in the grand houses of those who were glad enough,
two years ago, to make both ends meet in a quiet
house in a side-street. The stricken country begged
for help, and appealed to the manhood of those
whom she had blessed. Then, out of every thou
sand who with true chivalry emptied their purses
into the treasury, and offered their lives, if they
were needed, there were ten so mean and dastard
ly, that, while they were counting their gold, they
slipped, at every opportunity, a handful into their
own pockets. I long for one wholesome hour of
absolute despotism. I pray for a man who shall
decree, that it is an unpardonable crime to make a
dollar out of a Government contract ; and who will
catch the first wrong-doer, and hang him high as
Haman. If we were Russians, and were conscious
of an antagonism between ourselves and the work
ing head, who was prosecuting a war for his own
benefit or glory, there might be some excuse for
speculation : but in a country where the Govern
ment is all the people can ask, — is, indeed, just
what the people themselves have made it ; whose
inhabitants are fighting for a continuance of those
blessings which have been invaded by an enemy
ruthless and anti-democratic, — it is an infinite
crime for A  to make a million dollars, and com
pel you and me to contribute our share towards its

210 CHARACTERS.
payment. He gives nothing, but sucks from the
treasury a million dollars. You give your son, and
I myself, to the war. We both make terrible
sacrifices, and run great risks ; and yet, when the
war is over, and your son is dead, and my health
gone, this Mr. A  quietly tells us, that, of the
aggregate of the national debt, he has in his own
plethoric purse a huge amount, and that you and
I must help support his blood-horses, and pay for
his rich carpets and furniture. These are the ter
rible inequalities of war. It is a constant struggle,
not merely between the two contending armies, but
also between those who are patriots, and who pray
for vigor and decision on the part of all officers, and
these fiends who would prolong the contest, caring
neither for life nor liberty, if only they can enrich
themselves. Nine months ago, I was young, and turned a deaf
ear to these croakings of corruption ; but now I am
older, and, were ours a common war, I should be
so filled with disgust, that I should stoutly assert
the total depravity of man. We are completely
honeycombed by money-makers. There is no mili
tary office whose salary represents the income of
the incumbent. By just nicking the conscience,
turning the head to one side, saying, "Poh, non
sense I " when a sensible man comes to complain of
a great outrage, the perquisites roll up in size to a

CHARACTERS. 211
fearful bulk ; and at every door, from the highest
office to the lowest, there stands a villain, who is
willing to pay for the favor granted any amount
from five to five thousand dollars, according to the
rank of the officer and the nature of the favor.
But, when I grow sick at heart as these things
come to my knowledge one by one, I turn with
mingled wonder and pride to the great, the glorious
American people. They have never once refused
Government any thing. They have never asked
the President to be economical. They have heaped
about him their gold, assuring him that they have
plenty more when that is all spent. They have
always had an infinite trust in Providence ; believ
ing, never doubting, that victory will crown our
efforts at last. They have, without a murmur,
borne eighteen months of successive defeats ;
and, with heroic patience, waited for the dawn of
better times. They have given their most talented
sons to stand side by side in the ranks with those
of poorer birth, knowing that, in the hour of dan
ger, we are all equal ; and though, through the
mismanagement and copperheadism of some of our
generals, many thousand homes have been filled
with weeping, no one has asked for peace, unless it
be a peace based upon the unconditional surrender
of every rebel flag. America, to-day, presents a
magnificent sight. AU her people read and think :

212 CHARACTERS.
they are aware of the importance of the contest,
and they are ready and willing to make every
sacrifice. They deserve the victory ; and in good
time it will surely come.
I have been so much interested in the proceed
ings of this family of vampires, that I have spent
a great deal of time in watching their skilful plans,
and admiring the genius they so brilliantly display.
Their strategy is peffect ; their patriotism is so
heavily plated, that most men are deceived thereby;
and their success is so complete, that the pockets
with which they commenced operations are now so
well lined, that the proprietor can buy the best pew
in the up-town church, and drive his dog-cart, with
a servant in livery to attend his slightest wish;
while a host of friends on the street smile as he
passes, though- they laugh when he has gone by.
The first of the family is Burly Vampire, Esq.,
who lives in a splendid chateau, just out of the
city. In the first year of the war, he offered to sell
his fine estate, and put the whole bushel of gold
into the public treasury. We all looked on in won
der. Vampire must have greatly changed to do
such a noble thing. His gray hairs have made him
patriotic. Government smiled upon the gift and
the donor ; and the next year, when an expedition
was to be fitted out, and a hundred vessels were
needed for transportation. Vampire, Esq., said at

CHARACTERS. 213
once, that they could be furnished, and without de
lay. It was a huge transaction ; and cost such a
vast sum of money, that an extra biU of a hundred
thousand dollars would not have caused any par
ticular alarm.
Now, as Vampire sold his estate, and gave the
proceeds to Government, thus showing disinterested
patriotism, it was to be supposed that he would
aid the Administration in this work, charging
only a reasonable sum for his services. The logic
is good. When you think of it) it seems very
reasonable. But look sharply, and I will show you a trick. It
is no easy work to find a hundred good vessels; yet,
on the fixed day, they were all floating in the harbor,
ready to receive our boys. How is it, though, that
so many of them were old worn-out hulks ? They
did not look as though they would float for twenty-
four hours, without constant work at the pumps.
Did our boys not deserve good accommodations on
their voyage to the field of peril and death? or were
there no stanch craft to be hired ? It seemed as
though all the ragged ends of the marine had been
gathered together. StUl, twenty-five thousand men
embarked, and put out to sea, hopeful and happy.
The land, however, was hardly lost sight of before
a dozen of these craft leaked Uke sieves. The
water oozed through the rotten plank ; and, every

214 CHARACTERS.
time a wave struck them, they trembled and shook
like a palsied old man when jostled by a full-blooded
youth. The soldiers were disheartened at once. The
moral depression of such an incident is incalcula
ble. Soldiers are not brutes: they are men. If
they are men, they have a right to expect that Gov
ernment wUl pay some regard to their safety. The
demoralization commenced then and there, which
lasted all through the campaign. One of the ves
sels put into port before she was thirty-six hours
out; and, when that vessel anchored, she never
summoned strength enough to put to sea again.
Our boys were sea^sick, huddled together like pigs,
and at last germinated an epidemic. They were
detained thirty days before they could get proper
transportation. Other craft in the fleet put in at
Fortress Monroe, and the troops were detained six
weeks doing nothing. Still others made for Port
Royal; and so on, all along the coast.
The quiet man, while sipping his coffee of a morn
ing, asks how Government, which pays the highest
price for every thing, could be gulled so fearfully.
I answer. Easily enough ; and, if you will just step
behind the curtain, I will show you the secret. Mr.
Vampire agreed to furnish, for purposes of trans
portation, a hundred vessels. Rich as he was, he
owned but a dozen ; and so was compelled to look

CHARACTERS; 215
about, and find others. Now, it so happened that
certain gentlemen, who were in possession of ves
sels which had fairly run their race, grown old and
leaky in the service, being desirous of turning an
honest penny, had their rotten craft overhauled,
the very worst timbers (those which yield to the
pressure of your finger, like a sponge) removed,
and others substituted. Then they furnished them
with a new coat of paint and new rigging, until, to
the eye, they looked quite young again. And so
they were in fresh water, or while riding at anchor ;
but when out at sea, bending to a strong north
easter, their old joints cracked and groaned, and
the chances were that the six hundred soldiers on
board would never see land again. Well, these
amiable proprietors of defunct craft varnished into
seeming life made an attack on the authorities at
Washington, offering to loan their vessels for the
very moderate sum of three hundred dollars per
day. With an acuteness which is not noticed in
every department, "the official besieged sent a com
mittee to examine the vessels. Before he went on
board, a large-sized and exceedingly tempting green
back was offered, as a token of friendly regard, to
the inspector. But he, being a rara avis (if Dio
genes had met him, he would have blown his light
out at once, and embraced him), had the audacity
to refuse the bribe, and, going on board, did his

216 CHARACTERS.
duty. The vessels were not accepted. They were
regarded as unseaworthy ; and the proprietors had
varnished their craft in vain.
When it was known, however, that Vampire,
Esq., had a contract to furnish a hundred vessels,
they made a second attempt. They besieged his
counting-room, where he sat in state ; they told him
that their craft were just seven years old next
spring: but he knew every vessel on the coast; and
knew their owners, and what they had been doing,
and that they had met with a rebuff at Washington.
It did not take the two parties long to come down
from • rhetoric to plain matters of fact. Govern
ment would pay him for their craft three hundred
dollars per day : but they could not loan the vessels
directly to Government ; and, unless he took them,
they would prove a dead loss. So, after a great
deal of sparring, it was finally agreed that he should
hire their vessels at a hundred and fifty dollars
each per day. He thus quietly pocketed a large
fortune every month, and could throw another
country-house into the public treasury.
The result was, that our boys were crowded on
these sponges, which just floated, and compelled
to remain in durance vile twenty-seven days in
making a Gulf passage, instead of ten; which
would be the case if Government would be sharp
and ecoiiomical enough to hire a stanch steamer
at a thousand dollars per day.

CHARACTERS. 217
That is one way in which Goverment is cheated.
Millions are roUed up in the course of a few years
by such contracts as this ; and Government, some
times compelled to put itself temporarily into the
power of certain large business-men, is thus
fouUy betrayed ; and the poor of the whole coun
try must pay a cent more for a loaf of bread, ^
that the rich man may drive four horses instead
of two.
If I were a member of the Ottoman Empire, and
the ruler was so haughty that he disdained to look
at me, — nay, if for his pleasure he put his foot on
my neck, and scorned me, — I think I could laugh
when he got into trouble; and, if he were so
humbled that he came to me for help, I should cer
tainly make him pay heavily, and get out of his
misery as large a heap of gold as I could, and then
think I had done no more than right. But when
that Government which has blessed me ever since
I crawled out of my cradle, which has shaped my
youth, and moulded my manhood, offering me every
blessing she was able to bestow, is attacked by
assassins, and falls at my feet, asking me to help
her in her strait, I am bound to do it by gratitude,
chivalry, and honor; and if, when I have done
what I could, I look into my coffers, and find an
extra penny, I am a base recreant, an unfilial son,
and little better than a traitor. 18

218 CHARACTERS,
There is another class of men who are hard at
work oh the national debt : I mean the quarter
masters of the army. I often wondered why there
was such an ambition to fill this post. It seemed
to me particularly arduous and harassing, with
not a large pay ; and yet it seemed to be an office
coveted by every one. The regiment, the post,
the division, the department, each has an officer of
this grade ; and, curiously enough, they all come
home richer than they went. The regimental
quarter-master has a rather narrow circle in which
to act, and so operates on a small scale. StiU, if
he is energetic and unscrupulous, he can do very
well for himself, and make the thousand men of the
regiment pay for it. Government allows so much
meat, flour, &c., to each man per day. Now, the
allowance is exceedingly liberal ; and no man can
eat a full ration. This food is, of course, received
in bulk, and dealt out as demanded by the various
companies. At the end of every month, several
barrels of pork and salt meat, and a good propor
tion of all other articles of food, are unconsumed.
This is greatly increased by the number of men on
the sick-list, for whom full rations are drawn,
though they consume nothing at all. This large
quantity of material should be disposed of, and
added to the regimental fund, to be expended in
little delicacies for the hospital, and in a library for

CHAEACTEES. 219
the convalescent. Government, you see, has a
kindly care for its boys. It does not want them to
suffer, and does all it can to supply every needed
article of diet. But, unless the officers of the regi
ment are well posted on these matters (and volun
teer officers seldom are), the patriotic individual
who left his home and his business, that he might
do the hardest work of the regiment for a hun
dred and eighteen dollars a month, has been
metamorphosed into a sucker, fastened on the body
of the people, and filling itself with their blood.
And this branch of the Vampire Family is very
large. Almost every regiment has a representa
tive ; and though, when starting from home, they
make to themselves fair promises to be honorable,
yet, in the confusion of camp-life, the temptations
come thick and fast, and, little by little, the officer's
honesty melts. I know one who quietly turned all
available material into ¦ greenbacks, for his own
private use ; while in the hospital were a score of
men languishing for the want of little delicacies,
and such nourishing food as his greenbacks would
easily buy. Tliere was no fund to buy such things
with. In most of our regiments, this matter is
most foully neglected ; and the regimental sick, all
over the country, will bear me out in saying, that
they have been most shamefully neglected in this
regard. The poor feUows who fell out of the line.

220 CHARACTERS.
and took to their beds, have many and many a
time been compelled to chew a junk of hard salt
meat, and to drink the black coffee without milk,
when, if the colonel had been sharp, and had
brought his quartermaster up with a round turn,
these same boys might have had a nice piece of
beefsteak and a cup of luscious tea. The worth,
moral as well as physical, pf a cup of fragrant
tea and a steak to a worn-out soldier, you at home
can never estimate. Quick as the poor feUow
sniffs it, he lifts himself up, though he may not
have been strong enough to do so for twenty-four
hours, and pours out his thanks. There is just this
difference in the two diets : Give him the salt meat
and the old tin cup of coffee, and he turns over in
disgust, and feels sicker than ever, — he needs
something to break the weary monotony of food :
offer him the tea and toast, or steak, and he eats,
relishes, brightens up, and is better physically for
the rest of the day. This is the reason : In nine
cases out of ten, a part of the patient's disease is
home-sickness : he at once feels the dreadful loss
of that care which would watch over him were he
at home. This loneliness depresses him, and in
creases the vigor of the disease. Now, do any
thing, no matter what, to keep his spirits up, —
change his food, give him delicacies, and thus show
him that he is cared for, -^ and you do much to help

CHARACTERS. 221
the surgeon. Patients always get weU sooner in
hospitals where women nurse the sick. They are
more like home. Now, then, what shall we say of
that man who refuses to do his honorable duty, and
pockets the money which belongs to these sick
boys? He is an assassin, and has blood on his
hands ; he is a traitor and a knave, and does not
deserve to be recognized by honest men: his
money is aU Judas-coin, and will, sooner or later,
bring him to grief.
The quartermasters of every grade are thus
pressed by temptation ; and, when you look so high
up as to see the official through whose hands the
entire subsistence for a force of fifty thousand men
passes, you see also various large sluice-ways,
leading directly from the public treasury to that
individual's private coffers. He occupies a posi
tion which is worth to him from fifty to a hun
dred thousand dollars a year. The vast quantity,
the Ossa on Pelion, of breadstuffs, meats, &c.,
which are to subsist the army, should be trans
ported at the lowest possible rates. It is this offi
cial's business to find that lowest rate, and thus to
save Uncle Sam from the hands of the Philistines.
But, alas ! too often the official is himself a Philis
tine, -who can trace his pedigree directly to the
faUen angels of pre- Adamite times. He learns the
highest rates of transportation (i.e,, the rates asked

222

CHARACTERS.

by merchants who have stanch, searworthy craft) ;
and that is the price affixed to the biU he sends to
Washington. He then finds out what he can get
transportation for from a set of pettifoggers, who
have craft like bowls, — sure to be three times the
usual number of days on the passage. The pecu
niary difference between the biU in Washington,
and that in somebody's breast-pocket, is, on this
huge pile of material, something suggestive of a
smaU fortune. But does the shrewd official, who
has saved his country forty thousand doUars, hurry
to headquarters, and give it in for the public good ?
Does he boast that he has reduced the national
debt just that amount ? Or does he found an or
phan asylum with it, a home for deceased soldiers'
children ? I have never heard of such a thing. It
is possible that it may have been done ; but I enter
tain, some very grave doubts. One reason why
I doubt it is this, — that, ten miles in the country,
a handsome residence has suddenly changed hands ;
that the granite store, at the coi-ner of one and
another street, has recently been sold ; and I am
convinced that a quartermaster's -position is a very
lucrative one.
Here is another way in which something is
added to my tax and yours. The horses of seve
ral cavalry regiments, and of all the officers of a
corps d'armSe, are in want of hay. Somebody is

CHARACTERS. 223
empowered to buy it. Great confidence is placed
in the officer thus selected, and he occupies a very
responsible position. He receives the money for
good, sweet hay, such as our army horses ought
to have. And yet, strange to -say, when the hay
reaches its destination, and my hostler opens my
bundle, it is found to be old, with all the life dried
out of it ; and so musty and dusty, that, when the
poor horse dives his nose into it, he makes a con
tinuous sneeze, which runs through the entire
length of his body. It is hardly fit for bedding.
The poor horses refuse it, are fed on oats, get
heated, and at last debUitated ; and the next day,-
in an engagement, are all jaded, when they should
be fresh ; and instead of spiritedly feeling the spur,
and pushing into the midst of the foe, they are
sullen and unmanageable, and the battle is lost.
Many and many a charge has been decided by the
condition of the horses. Sometimes the rider has
nothing to do but think of his sword ; for the
fresh animal enters into the spirit of the scene,
and, knowing the bugle-calls, obeys instinctively.
Again : the rider's whole time is taken. up with his
beast : both lose their temper, and nothing but a
retreat is accomplished. Who is responsible for
all this? — these lives lost, this disgrace to our
arms, and perhaps the loss of a standard ? Trace
it back far enough, and you will find it in that

224 CHARACTERS,
man who pretends to patriotism, but who bought
musty hay, instead of good, fresh, nourishing hay,
and made six dollars a ton by the operation ; and
who would be sorry if he thought the war would
end in the next six months. We ought to have a
bloody code ; and any man with shoulder-straps on,
who is caught robbing the country in this way,
should be shot in the presence of the whole army.
But nothing, as yet, has been done. We are too
kind, too lenient, too patient. We ought to be able
to check such villany: for these under-currents
are not streamlets, but deep rivers ; and they are
making this debt of ours an ocean, instead of a
pond. In speaking of our cavalry, I have noted another
fact, which has excited my indignation. When
this important arm of the service was being orga
nized, it was ordered that no horse above a given
age (eight years) should be accepted ; and an in
spector, or many inspectors, men who were thor
oughly versed in such matters, were well paid to
see to it that only sound, tough, and young horses
were paid for by the Government. Notwithstand
ing this, we have thousands of horses on our hands,
eating our fodder, who are either spavined, blind,
or antedUuvian. We say we pay a hundred and
twenty-five doUars apiece for all our horses: but, if
the truth were known, it would be seen that there

CHARACTERS. 225
is hardly a horse in the service, which is sound
and tough, that did not cost double that sum ; be
cause he is the only good one of two, each of which
cost a hundred and twenty-five dollars.
But how is this ? It is a trick of one of the
vampires. It is done so easily and so skilfully,
that you may look on while it is being performed.
and not detect the trick. The jockey inspector is
a very Herman ; and you must watch him closely,
or you will not discover the secret. He stands
here before us, while yonder are a drove of two
thousand horses. They are the scourings of the
West. Some are good, some bad, some very indif
ferent. One would think that the order was plain
enough, and that no shrewd trader would bring a
blind or otherwise disabled horse to such a market.
StiU, here they are ; and they are marched in one
by one to the inspector. A good, plain, honest-
looking man trots up six handsome, young, tough
fellows, who look as though they could stand a long
march without being fagged. The old trader is a
farmer, has a hundred or two acres in lUinois, and
has raised these horses himself. He knows them
to be finely put together, and expects Uncle Sam
wiU be glad to get them. He leads them up, and
the inspector looks them over one by one ; while the
old farmer's eyes twinkle with pride, and in his
heart he is inwardly praying that six brave boys
19

226 CHARACTERS.
may get astride of them. In a few minutes, he is
vastly surprised to find that they are appraised at
only a hundred dollars each ; for he knows them
to be fuUy worth the twenty-five more, which is the
maximum price. He, however, pockets his cha^
grin, and, together with you and myself, determines
to see what will be the valuation of some other
animals of the drove. Next comes a lank beast,
which has plainly been a cart-horse for some years,
and whose joints are not exactly like a pony's. At
a glance, we see that he is at least twelve years
old, and only wait to hear the inspector refuse him.
That official looks at his teeth, feels of his legs, and
then, to our chagrin and surprise, accepts him at
a hundred dollars. The old farmer's eyes roll
round wonderingly as he looks from this hack to
his sleek ponies, and goes off evidently bewUdered.
It is to be hoped that the good man does not see
through the trick to this day. You and I wiU
watch a while longer, and perhaps we may get a
little light.
Another drove of a dozen horses are soon brought
up ; and this time the owner seems to have a few
private words with the inspector. What they are
talking about, I cannot say. Their tones are not
loud ; and the gestures consist of the winking of
the eye, and a seemingly friendly grasp of the
hand.

CHARACTERS. 227
'Tis very proper thus to meet as brethren : but, a
minute after, I notice (for I have very quick eyes)
that the inspector puts the hand which returned
the jockey's friendly grasp into his pocket, — his
waistcoat-pocket ; and, if I am not greatly mistaken,
I saw a round yellow piece of metal, that would
answer weU for a twenty-dollar gold-piece. Of
course, I was mistaken ; but I will see what becomes
of the horses. The first is an unbroken, wild colt ;
certainly not fit for the cavalry service until he
has been tamed by curb and rein. Still he is
passed at once, and the highest price paid. The
four next ones are evidently hack-horses. Their
ribs can all be counted ; their eyes are dull, and one,
at least, is certainly blind. These, of course, wiU
be rejected. But no ; not one of the dozen is re
jected : and I am now sure of two things, — '¦ first,
that I did see gold ; and, second, that the poor fellow
who rides any one of these horses, will, in less than
a month, wish himself at home, inwardly swearing,
either that the horse is Unfit for the service, or
that he is unfit for a rider.
The man who owns the next drove is an honest-
looking fellow, but seems to have no particular
friendliness towards the inspector ; and, as a con
sequence, three of-his horses are rejected. Now, I
notice, and so do you, that all horses, good, bad, and
indifferent, whose owners have such a kindly feel-

228 CHAEACTEES.
ing for the inspector that they shake hands with
him, are passed without any trouble ; while those
owners who neglect this ceremony take home half
their animals.
It is a significant fact. Cross the villain's palm
with gold, and he will make the Government pay
a hundred, dollars for a beast which will have to
be stabled within three days for disabUity, and
which will cost the country more for fodder be
fore he dies than the original price paid for him.
Placed in a responsible position, not only by the
Administration, "but by the North, by Humanity,
by Liberty, to use his best knowledge, and choose
only those beasts which can endure the hardships
of a campaign, and bear our boys through the
rugged fortunes of war to victory, the jockey sells
himself to the DevU, and his country to defeat, for
the few paltry hundreds or thousands with which
he buys a farm, or lifts a mortgage on his old
place. He is a type of a large class of men who are
thrown to the surface by the war, and who are
made criminals by the times. This jockey, in his
own village, was a respectable man. He would
cheat you out of fifty doUars, if he could, in a horse
trade ; but that is nothing. Now, all the inner
depths and possibUities of evil in his nature have,
by the great convulsion, been brought to the sur-

CHAEACTEES. 229
face, and he has proved himself a traitor and a
viUain. " Power," says the Greek Chile, — " power
discovers the man." Many a man needs but the
opportunity, the temptation, to become a , fiend.
Such men the war has belched up from the depths
of society ; and they would disgust us with our
selves, and with humanity, were it not that bright
examples of highest heroism in the field, and of
noble self-sacrifice at home, loom up in the dusty
horizon, as stars sometimes break through the
clouds at night, and light oar pathway with their
hallowed rays.
Gold is the " Open sesame " to most men's hearts.
Unless one is strongly intrenched behind the solid
works of Christian truth, he runs great risks every
hour. Once in a while, we see a splendid instance
of heroism ; and, close upon its heels, an instance of
unfaithfulness, which makes us sad for our country.
While a company was placed on guard at an out
post beyond CarroUton, attempts were constantly
made to smuggle goods to the enemy through a
bayou that ran by their headquarters. One night,
the soldier on duty was startled, as lie walked his
quiet beat, by the rustling of some bushes near
him. He stopped, listened, heard nothing; and,
concluding that he had been mistaken, resumed his
walk. Soon he heard the same sound, and, in ad
dition, the crackling of a twig. " Who goes there ?"

230 CHARACTERS.
he cried ; and, receiving no answer, called the cor
poral of the guard, who at once sent out his men.
They soon returned, bringing with them a youth
dressed in citizen's clothes. He was taken before
the lieutenant in command; when it was discovered
that he was an officer in the Confederate army, who
had wealthy parents living in New Orleans, whom
he had not seen for more than a year. Feeling
extremely homesick, he determined to attempt to
pass our hues. He borro'wed or bought a suit of
citizen's clothes ; and, after secreting himself in the
woods a few days, found an opportunity to pass our
pickets. He had been with his parents thirty days,
and was now attempting to repass the pickets on
his return. Poor feUow ! He felt badly enough at
being caught ; for, according to the rules of war,
he would be regarded as a spy, and shot. Fearing
this penalty, he begged hard that his father might
be sent for. The lieutenant, at length, moved by his
entreaties, sent an orderly with a message to the
city. The father arrived in due time ;.and, in an
instant, saw the perU into which his son had faUen.
He tried all the arguments a fond father could
summon to persuade the lieutenant to allow his son
to go free. The faithful officer was deaf to all bis
entreaties : he seemed Uke stone, and the hot words
and eloquent entreaties seemed like spray dashing
against the granite cliff. At last, in perfect des-

CHARACTERS. 231
peration, the father took out his note-book, wrote a
check for ten thousand dollars, and presented it to
the officer with —
" Take this, sir, and the bank will give you the
money to-morrow. You have but to turn your
head, to leave the room for three minutes, and my
boy can escape in the darkness."
Then, with Roman virtue, his poverty unmoved
by the tempting bribe, — his widowed mother and
lovely sisters in their humble New-England home
seeming, but only seeming, to plead for the life
long comfort which could be bought by a moment's
inadvertence, — he turned sternly to the tempter
with —
" No, sir : I do my duty at all hazards."
I wish that this was the end of the incident.
" But the trail of the serpent is over them all."
There seems to be no bright picture of daring, of
self-sacrifice, but it has on its back the stern tra
cings of something mean and base. This lieutenant
was taken to the proper authorities in the city, and
delivered up. Imagine the surprise of the whole
picket-force, when, three days afterwards, he pre
sented himself before his captors, and showed a
pass, properly signed, giving him permission to go
at his pleasure beyond the Federal lines ! One
thing is sure : the ten thousand dollars did not find
the same unmoved virtue in the city, which marked

232 CHARACTERS.
the commander of the picket-guard. The persever
ing father had found a man who had left his home,
not for country, but for self; who did not care if
the rebel officer did lead his company against our
flag; and who was ready to fill his pocket-book
with the price of many a soldier's life.
So the pictures stand side by side, — the good
and heroic, the bad and cowardly. We find en
gaged in the same work the apostle of Liberty,
the young enthusiast, and the Judas, who clutch
es the money-bag, and cares nothing for the cause
of the Nazarene. These contrasts all exist in the
community in time of peace ; but they are down
below the surface, and only the initiated know of
them. In time of war, they are thrown sud
denly, and in glaring colors, upon the canvas of
our history, like the magnified pictures from a
camera. Another class of men, who have attracted my
^attention, is the Provost-marshals. They form a.
family of bipeds, distinct from all other human
beings. They occupy a very important position, —
having almost supreme control over many mUes of
territory ; and are able, if so inclined, to do much
harm. Capt. Vander, a restless, poor, and ambi
tious young man, who came to the war to make a
dollar, who will never be the means of causing
any one's death, and who wiU be very careful to

CHARACTERS. 233
keep out of danger himself, at last succeeded in
wriggling his way out of his regiment, and se
curing for himself the provost-marshalship of an
up-river parish. When I said he was poor, I
meant that he had been engaged in a small retail
business before the war ; that his expenses ex
ceeded his income ; and that he left home in debt.
He has enjoyed his new-found office just six months ;
and yet, on a captain's pay, he sports a thousand
dollars' worth of jewelry on his person, drives a
handsome span of horses, and has lent several
responsible individuals five hundred dollars each.
When I see his rich apparel, I become greatly
interested, and begin to think, that, in a provost-
marshalship, there is more machinery than I knew
of. So, with candle in hand, I determine to enter
the labyrinth, and find out its intricacies. A few
days suffice, and I see it all. The money is easily
made, if only one's conscience has been well tanned.
A man must put aside aU remembrance that his
comrades are dying, that his regiment is in the
thick of the fight, and that America expects every
man to do his duty, and all such flowers of rhetoric.
Like cobwebs, they must be swept away, as things
disagreeable to look upon. Patriotism is a luxury
not to be indulged. He must wear a pair of spec
tacles, which have half-dollars instead of glasses,
and then all will be weU.

234 CHARACTERS.
Capt. Vander finds no difficulty in doing this.
A man came to him, and a conversation something
like this ensued : —
" What do you want, sir ? "
" A pass to fish on the lake, sir."
" You can't have it. I'm busy: be off! "
Soon, on his desk, rings a twenty-dollar gold-
piece. This means business. It is not enough,
however ; and the captain shakes his head. So the
fisherman puts another and another, each more
reluctantly than the last, until there are five shin
ing pieces on the desk. The fellow stops short as
he drops the fifth, with a dogged air, as much as
to say, " No more." Vander looks through his half-
dollars, and, without saying a word, writes a pass
for the applicant to fish anywhere on the lake.
It is a little remarkable, but the fisherman passes
our hues late in the afternoon, instead of early in
the morning ; and, now that I am clairvoyant, I see,
in the lining of his lugger, a large quantity of
silks, cottons, fine goods of various kinds, which I
doubt not will be very acceptable to the rebels ;
while, to my surprise, I find not a single hook or
line anywhere in the boat. It is a very curious
circumstance. Again : the pickets bring in a man who is sus
pected of smuggling. He has sold his load, and is
trying to get home again ; but the sharp picket

CHARACTERS. 235
scents him out. All his effects are laid before
Vander. Here is a large roll of Confederate notes ;
and here, tightly sewed up, are a thousand dol
lars in gold. The poor smuggler stands trembling
before his inquisitor, and expects every moment
to be taken out and shot. He is an ignorant fel
low, a Creole ; and, if he gets off with a whole skin,
will think himself very fortunate. Vander returns
him the worthless notes, giving him permission
to keep his boat; but puts into his own pocket the
pile of gold, sternly rebuking the trader, and, in
the heat of pretended passion, swearing to hang
him if he is ever seen in the parish again.
Here is his last act ; and, thank justice, the last
one before being court-martialed. Though a young
man, he is without any of the enthusiasm or chiv
alry which belongs to youth; /and is, or professes
to be, so conservative, that he hates the negro, and
believes in the divine character of slavery. Thus
he is the ready tool of the planter, and by far the
most popular man on the coast. He enters deeply
into the feelings of the slave-owner, and secretly
connives at the corporal punishment of the black
man, which has been abolished by law. So month
after month passes, each new one finding him more
entangled with the planters ; until at last, feeling
secure in his position, and a little independent
because he has coined so much money out of his

236 CHARACTERS.
position, he fires the mine under him, and comes
down with a crash. A negro had been maltreated
by his owner, and ran away from the plantation,
determining to enlist as a soldier. He made for the
Provost's, and stated his grievance and wish. In
stead of receiving him as he should, Vander took
him by the collar, kicked him out of his office, and
bade him go back to his master. This was really
a chivalrous act. He could not have done better
had he been a real planter, instead of a planter's
lacke^^ The negro, persistent in his determination to
enter the army, staid in the woods for eight days,
living as best he could, and, every night, trying to
pass the pickets and get to the city. At the end
of that time, he was discovered, caught, and
brought before Vander, who at once recognized
him, and whose master — Vander's and the slave's
— had more than once urged that search be made
for the runaway. The only crime of the negro
was, that he would not allow the overseer to hold
the whip over his back. He had the spirit of a
freeman; had felt too long the chains of slavery;
and, now that the Yankees had come to protect
him, insisted upon being treated like a man. On
this condition, he was willing to work on the plan
tation ; otherwise, he claimed the right to enlist
in the army. He was judged, not by an exas-

CHARACTERS, 237
perated Southerner, who chafed at the Yankee
victories over the rebel flag, but by a thing, an
inquisitorial biped, whose soul was all shrivelled up
and withered by the wines and flattery of the chi
valry. He passed the following sentence, which
was carried into execution : " First, that the negro
receive twenty-four lashes on his bare back ; se
cond, that he be placed in the stocks for eighteen
hours ; third, that he receive twenty-five lashes
more ; and, fourth, that his shirt be stripped off, and
his hands tied to a tree, and that he remain in that
condition for three hours after nightfall, that the
mosquitos, which fiy in swarms, may bite him." I
can hardly believe what I am writing ; but I re
ceived these facts from Gen. Bowen, who had
preferred charges against Vander, and removed
him. Legree is no longer the exclusive property
of the South. A young man can be so managed,
after a few months' careful manipulation by the
planters, that he can be made to do an act which
renders his name a byword and a reproach every
where. In the eagerness to make money, one will
forget his God, his country, and even himself. But
such gold has no value. Behind every bag is a
spectre, the avenging shade of a faithful soldier,
who was dying for the flag while this man was dis
gracing it ; and he spends not a single dime, but he
is startled by the ghostly warning, — " Remember

238 CHARACTERS.
how that gold was bought ! it is the price of my
life, and of your own soul." I do not envy Vander
his thoughts. He must feel lonely at night ; and,
Uve long as he may, he knows he is a coward, and
dares not look an honest boy in the face. There is
a price fixed for every thing ; and the highest price
we ever pay is for gold dishonestly won. I will
live on in my poverty, and be happy. He may
sweep by me in his splendid carriage ; but I only
smile on him. Gilded panels and soft cushions are
not enough to give repose. These are all forgot
ten whenever the flag waves in the breeze, and
covers aU honest, men with its benediction. It fills
him with remorse, and he is miserable, while I
rejoice. I gave to my country all I could : he took
all he could from her.
There is still one other family of. bipeds in this
great menagerie, well worthy our attention and
study. They are marked by very peculiar cha
racteristics. They are the ones who are best
typified by a figure holding a huge ball of red
tape in one hand, while the other grasps a pair
of shears. The West-Pointer, when he under
stands the spirit of routine, and, in a gentlemanly
way, insists that it shall be complied with, is a
most invaluable personage ; for his clear head and
quick eye detect at once the coming snarl in events,
and his active fingers apply the remedy. But, on

CHAEACTEES. 239
the other hand, when, being a man of only mediocre
ability, he has never sought this spirit, and insists
on the strict letter of routine, cursing you, because,
carrying a message of life or death, you came to the
office on the fuU run, when you should have walked
in a dignified way, regardless of consequences, he
is a public and a private bore. In the war, this
family has a factitious value ; and to have gradu
ated at West Point is to be looked upon with a sort
of awe. There is many a man, who, when he
receives his diploma as a full-fledged A.B., cannot
pass the examination, and enter the freshman-class
again ; and, unless West Point is unlike all other
institutions of learning, it gives to the world, with
every class, some men who are good mathemati
cians, who can tell you all about fortifications, are
perfectly acquainted with all necessary branches
of military learning, but who have not, and never
will have, what is nascitur non fit, i.e. common
sense. What the Sadducees were to the Jews, these
West-Point men are to our army, — the exclusives,
the aristocracy ; those who look down on volun
teers as mere stuff, and who laugh at men who are
not posted in tactics, but who yet will often lead
where these men dare not foUow. The knowledge
how to do a thing, and the ability to do it, are not
always combined ; and scattered through our army

240 CHAEACTEES.
are numerous young men, whose only point of
superiority above ten thousand others is that they
have graduated at West Point. This is enough
to excuse their blunders, their insults, and their
unendurable superciliousness.
I know one such. When a colonel, whose sick
men had been four days without a physician, went
to ask that a surgeon might be sent to them, he
was turned off with, " Oh ! they are nothing but
nine-months' men. Go on, driver."
This may be according to the Army Regulations ;
but it is contrary to the dictates of humanity, and
an insult to every nine-months' man in the depart
ment. J. know another, who is so enamoured of the way
in which he always has proceeded, that he refuses to
sign a soldier's discharge until the pile of discharge-
papers has reached a fixed height. Now, it is often
of the utmost consequence that the discharged boy
be sent North at once. Twenty-four hours, forty-
eight hours, may make a serious difference in the
chances of his recovery. He never can get well
in the South; but send him to his home in the
North, and the fresh air, and loving presence and
attendance of friends, bring new life, and are better
than any medicine in the surgeon's chest. Yet this
man has been known to retain discharge-papers in
his possession so long, that many and many a time.

CHAEACTEES. 241
when the papers were at last signed, the poor boy
was safe from West Point, and in the ground. The
reason is, that the routine, once fixed upon, must
not be changed : it must yield neither to right nor
wrong, to God nor the Devil.
The youthful West-Pointer, when he is in fuU
feather, honestly beUeves that it was the Army
Regulations, and not the Decalogue, which came
from the mysterious cloud to the children of Israel.
The law written therein is harder than that of
Mede or Persian. The order, once issued, must not
be retracted. WhUe lying in New- York Harbor,
one of these gentlemen issued an order to the pilot
of the boat to start at three, P.M., precisely. The
captain, knowing that the vessel could not get off
before five, p.m., was ashore.
" We cannot start at that time, sir ; for the tide
does not serve."
" The order has been issued, and you will obey
it." The half-frightened pilot, never thinking that the
captain was ashore, gave the order at three pre
cisely, and the vessel began to move. The tide
was low ; but what of that ? Shall a West-Point
graduate retract an order simply because its execu
tion is impossible ? Nonsense ! The vessel swung
partly round ; when all at once she ran her stern
into a mud-bank, and was immovable.
20

242 CHAEACTEES.
Now, you may issue as many orders as you
choose : you must wait quietly until the tide
serves. In about half an hour, the captain went
on board, and swore, as only an old sea-dog can,
in a voice that might be heard aU over the harbor ;
cursing the pilot for his want of common sense, and
sending him off the vessel at once.
That is the side of West Point we do not want.
Mere dead, duU routine, when there is no spirit in
it, is the deadest and duUest thing in the world ;
and the Army Regulations, when followed out
according to the letter by one who has not brains
enough to understand their spirit and the exigen
cies which called them forth, are most insipid and
meaningless. Brains and West Point are very well ;
but West Point without brains is too much of a
burden for volunteers. The truth is, that we,
having on our hands a war of such appalling magni
tude, and knowing nothing of military, matters,
have placed undue confidence in any and all who
profess to know how to lead us aright. In this
way, many have worked themselves into high posi
tions, who are conspicuous only for their blunders.
We have been patient, and even enduring: but,
now that we have had two years' experience, we
are beginning to see into the darkness for our
selves ; and soon we may hope for guides who will
not sacrifice a victory to a point of etiquette, but
who will sacrifice every thing for success,

CHAEACTEES. 243
To know every thing is not enough: to do
something wiU soon be the only title to our re
spect. These are some of the men thrown to the sur
face by the war. They have taken advantage of
the general chaos to fill their own coffers, or to
work themselves into prominent positions. But a
small man in the midst of a large fortune is a piti
able object ; and a minute man, clothed in a gaudy
uniform, and strutting about in the place which
should be occupied only by the great head and
great heart, is certainly not to be envied. Poor
fools 1 they will checkmate themselves before they
have made many moves. And these are a few of
the ways in which the national debt is rolled up.
There are others, scores of them, which I know
nothing about. Indeed, there must be ; for the
patent cost of subsisting and paying our army
seems a smaU sum by the side of what we actually
expend every month. I was greatly interested in
this matter, and wondered — this was in the days
of my blissful ignorance and verdancy — how our
biUs amounted to something like a miUion a day.
One does not remain long in the army, however,
no matter how quiet the position he occupies,
without seeing exactly how this thing is achieved.
It is not done by the soldiers who have been
oftenest in the fight : if it were, we should be

244 CHARACTERS.
disinclined to criticise. They risk their Uves every
hour ; their strong arms are repelling the invader,
and establishing our homes on a safe foundation;
are giving security to our commercial interests,
and saving the national credit. If they all made a
competency, a complaint would come with an iU
grace from us. But it is not so. Those who do
their duty best get only the thirteen dollars a
month, and seldom bring home any other memento
of the war than a wound in the breast, or a wppden
leg. All honor to the volunteer rank and file I
The noblest patriotism in the country is to be
found there. They are the most disinterested men
we have, and should be held in the warmest regard.
The people have vindicated their right to repub
licanism. The thoughtful, honest, self-sacrificing
people are to-day showing the world in how high
estimation they hold our free schools and our free
government. They have rushed with irresistible
force against the monarchists of the South ; and, in
the shock of battle, are silencing the croaking
rhetoricians of Europe, who have predicted that
republicanism was in its death-struggle. So far
from the truth are they, that, on the other hand, our
victorious flag wiU yet give a new impulse to all
the liberty-loving men of Europe. It will say to
those beyond the great sea, " Struggle on, brave
Italians and noble Poles: your cause is God's

CHARACTERS. 245
cause and man's ; fight on, and you shall yet be
free." It is not necessary that I should tell you in
whose pockets this immense amount of money finds
a resting-place. They are men who have no other
than a financial interest in the war, — the most
unworthy and unpatriotic. I have given an im
perfect catalogue of some of them, and am glad
to reach the end of a very disagreeable subject.
Heaven help them ! I say ; for they have had no
mercy on themselves. In spite of them and their
ill-gotten gains, the cause treads with firm step,
and the end is approaching; and, when glorious
peace — a peace won by struggle and by blood —
shaU crown our borders once again, these men will
take their rightful place : they will form a clique
with no inward sense of satisfaction, but with, a
feeling of utter degradation; while those who
gave of their substance, and of the best fruit of
their lives, will walk proudly under the benedictive
red, white, and blue, and say, " It is ours, — our
own; for we paid the sacrifice, and won it."

246 ON THE MARCH.

CHAPTER VL

ON THE MARCH,

I CASUALLY heard, one day, that the army was
soon to march upon Port Hudson; and at once
went to the general, and asked and obtained permis
sion to postpone my work for a while, and accom
pany him. It was a bright, beautiful morning when
the command was given, " To horse, gentlemen 1 "
and the noble Farragut had passed Baton Rouge
in the "Hartford," cheered by the huzzas of ten
thousand hearts. He is really a hero ; and there is
a ring to his tones, which reminds one of a trumpet,
when he says, " Iron gunboats are all weU enough ;
but give me a crew of iron hearts." We very soon
caught up with the advancing column ; and I have
never witnessed a grander sight than that pre
sented by our forces. First a wagon-train, inter
minable in length, fiUing up the road for full two
miles, — the white canvas tops contrasting with the
rich green of the foliage, for the road was through
a dense wood ; the drivers hallooing to their mules ;
the negroes making the woods ring with their songs:
all made up a picture at once novel and interesting.

ON THE MARCH. 247
Next we came upon a solid coluinn of some twenty-
five thousand men. They were in the best of spirits ;
and as the whole body parted in the middle, and
filed to either side of the road, and gave expression
to their confidence in their leader by cheers which
ran along the entire length of the line, every one
was roused to an enthusiasm almost uncontrollable.
I felt that he who led such a body of men was the
most enviable being in the world ; and, when the
scene was rendered wilder by the crashing music
from a dozen brass bands, it seemed as if every
man was ready to risk his life in the dread en
counter. That night, our advance encamped within six
miles of the enemy's works. I accepted the kind
invitation of Col. BuUock, of the Thirtieth, to share
his tent ; and slept as comfortably on the dry grass
and dead leaves as though I had had a bed of down.
A hard ride of six or eight hours naturally inclined
me to hunger and sleep. I relished a pUe of crack
ers and cheese more than Vitellius ever did his
dainty dish of birds' tongues ; and was soon after
wards on my back, giving good evidence of my
condition. •
I slept soundly until about half-past ten ; when a
faint, booming sound awoke me. It occurred at
regular intervals of about a minute ; and, as soon as
I gathered my scattered senses, I knew that the gun-

248 ON THE MARCH.
boats were hard at work. I lay quietly for some
time, awed by the solemnity of the occasion ; for it
was then pitch dark, and the dull, heavy sound was
freighted with success or defeat ; and, on opening
my eyes again, I could distinctly trace the course
of the shell through the air by the light of the
fuses. I watched them until about two o'clock ;
when I ordered my horse, and set out for head
quarters. It was so dark that I could not keep the
road, and so trusted to the instincts of my noble
beast. It was, withal, a lonely ride, — five mUes
through dense woods, the silence only broken by
the gruff " Who goes there ? " of the guard, and the
ominous clicking of the hammer as he cocked his
gun. All the legends of the Hartz Mountains ran
through my mind; for the- night seemed just fitted
for a carnival of the Genii.
I had just reached headquarters when the wel
come news came, that a part of the fleet had suc
ceeded in getting by the fort. StiU there was
something ominous in a certain glare of light, which
ever and anon burst up from the tree-tops in the
distance. One of our vessels must have caught fire.
It could not be' a common gunboat, for the flames
had already lasted several hours. At last a courier
came, saying that the "Mississippi" had caught fire.
That noble vessel was part of the price we were to
pay for the victory hoped for.

ON THE MARCH. 249
I have never witnessed a scene so magnificent
as that which closed the Career of this war-ship.
On6 moment, the flames would die away, and then
the black darkness of "the night seemed heavier
than ever ; in another minute, the flames would
curl up again above the tree-tops, and tinge the
cloud-edges with a lurid light. At length came
the catastrophe. I thought the fire had gone, out ;
and was just turning away, when fold after fold of
cloudy flame, driven with terrific force, rose higher
and higher, until the entire heavens were illumi
nated, as though the sun itself had burst ; and
immediately after came a sound that shook the
earth, — a crash so awful, that it seemed as though
one could feel it ; which thundered along the entire
horizon, frightening the birds in their coverts and
the horses in their stalls; and then all was still
and dark. The " Mississippi " was no more. That
noble vessel, which had made for herself a history,
had at last fallen a victim to the chances of war.
She was a splendid ship ; and every American wiU
remember with regret the hour when she was
lost. That night, fortune did not favor rne. I had es
corted Col. Clarke, who had been wounded, beyond
our lines, on the Baton-Rouge road ; and, a second
time, accepted the hospitality of Col. BuUoek. I
was quietly and with great zest gnawing a beef-
21

250 ON THE MARCH.
bone, wondering at the novelty of a soldier's life,
when I was surprised out of my dream by the pat
ter of rain. I was fully prepared for fine weather ;
but rain I had not reckoned upon. The ground
was so low and marshy, that, in the course of the
first half-hour, there were at least three inches of
water on it. I perched myself on a bread-box,
however, crossing my legs d la Ture; feeling that
delightful indifference to all fortune, which is the
charm and ne??essity of a soldier's life. My bone
and my hunger were enough to occupy all my
thoughts. My inner man, astonished at the utter
neglect of the last eighteen hours, was determined
that I should concentrate my attention upon one
only thing. That luscious beef-bone, which, only a
few hours before, had been trotting about gayly
in those very woods, seemed to me the richest
luxury in the world. As I held it firmly in my left
hand, and ever and anon tore from it a delicious
morsel, you could not have bought it of me for a
whole township.
When I had satisfied my hunger, I began to re
cognize the fact, that the tent was pitched in four
inches of water, and that it was raining most lustily.
I splattered out, tied my horse under a large tree,
laughed heartily at the look of perfect surprise he
put on as I turned to leave him, and then hunted
until I came across a stretcher which would lift me

ON THE MARCH, 251
just six inches from the ground, and serve very
comfortably for a bed. Fortune did indeed favor
me. I was two inches above the water, and had
a covering above my head, which only once in a
while played the sieve, and showered me. I slept
soundly, as only the tired man can. In the morn
ing, my faithful horse waked me with his neighing ;
and, if he had had the power of speech, I 4o not
doubt he would have scolded me well for leaving
him all night in a pond.
I was surprised at the uniform cheerfulness of
the men under these trying circumstances. They
had no covering- except their rubber-blankets,
which they stretched out — a very poor roof —
upon four upright stakes. They were, most of
them, drenched to the skin. Yet around the camp-
fires were heard only mirth and wUdest hilarity.
Once in a while, I came across some poor unfortu
nate, who had dropped his blanket in the mud, and
down whose back the rain was trickling merciless
ly; and who seemed (I judged from the forcible
expletives used) to have arrived at the sage con
clusion, that a soldier's life is not always gay, as
generally represented, and that camp-life and camp-
meeting are two very different things. But even
he soon gathered his muddy vestments about him ;
and, crawling alongside the bright fire, got into a
better humor with himself and the fortunes of war.

252 ON THE MARCH.
When we returned to Baton Rouge (for it seems
our advance upon Fort Hudson was only a feint to
compel the enemy to withdraw their water-bat
teries, that Farragut might the more easily run the
gauntlet), my friend Gen. Dudley was ordered to
make a reconnoissance on the west side of the river,
and to get as nearly opposite Port Hudson as was
practicable. I received permission from Gen. Banks
to act on Dudley's staff jpro tern. We started late
in the afternoon, three steamboat-loads of us ; and,
as I wanted to reserve myself for the next day's
work, I went to bed soon after sundown, and slept
soundly until the next morning. We should have
reached our landing-place in about three hours : so
I may be excused, if, when I woke, I was surprised
to find it morning, and myself on board the steam
boat. I leapt out of my berth, and scrambled for
the deck to ascertain the solutions of the mystery.
On looking about me, my first feeling was one of
chagrin ; but, on second thoughts, I burst out into
a hearty laugh. It seems, that, during the night, a
heavy fog came up, and the pilots lost their way.
As luck would have it, we stopped our engines j.ust
at the mouth of a huge crevasse. The unfortunate
steamboats were drawn in by the force of the cur
rent ; and, at the precise moment when I took my
observation, the " Empire Parish " was at least a
hundred yards inside the levee, while the " Morn-

ON THE MARCH. 253
ing Light " was anchored in the very centre of a
plantation, and close to a huge sugar-house. After
a vast deal of cursing on the part of the pilots, and a
loss of some twenty-four hours, we managed to get
into the river again ; and, shortly afterwards, came
to a landing at Winter's Plantation. The enemy's
works were plainly visible. They were only about
five miles off; and, with the glass, we could dis
tinctly see the rebels hurrying to and fro.
I was very much interested that evening in
watching the soldiers, and seeing the way in
which they accommodated themselves to their sit^
nation. The moment the company lines were
marked out, a certain number made for the fields
where the cattle were grazing ; while another
party proceeded to demolish the fence about the
house ; first, to use it for a ^mattress on which
to sleep ; and, second, for fire-wood. In less than
thirty minutes from the time of landing, the fence
had entirely disappeared ; and to look on the men
at their fires, busily cooking, or washing tin plates,
or lying on the grass singing and reading, while
here and there was one who carried his fiddle, and
most perseveringly and pleasantly cajoled the hours
away, you would have thought that they had lived
on the place for weeks. They managed, in the
most marvellous way, to make themselves at home.
One is down by the water's edge : he has taken his

254' ON THE MARCH,
shirt off (for the day is vary warm), and is scrubbing
the thing in the most determined manner. Another
has brought a rocking-chair out of the house, and
sits at his ease, watching the progress of dinner.
Others have grouped together, making very re
spectable music. Others, again, are in the ring;
and, judging from the black eyes and bloody faces,
have got as far as the tenth round. Fifteen min
utes ago, if you had listened, you would have heard
a most ominous cackling from all quarters at once : .
now not a solitary cackle can be heard within a
mile. Thirty minutes since, the lowing herd were
winding very rapidly over the lea, evidently under
the impression that danger was imminent: now
four beef- hides hang gracefully from as many
stakes, drying for the New-Orleans market, and
anxious to be convprted into Yankee shoes.
At first, my heart revolted at such destruction
of life : but when, by chance, my attention was
called to a savory dish which my contraband was
lustily stirring ; and when, grinning from ear to
ear, Tom said, " Lieutenant, will you pick a chicken
bone?" — I must confess that I forgot all things
else, my revolted feelings, and my knife and fork,
and devoured, as only a hungry man can, the better
part of a chicken ; believing all the time that the
said biped had at last accomplished its intended
mission. So my contraband must have thought ;
for when I inq.uired, —

ON THE MARCH. 255
" Tom, by the way, how came you by that chick
en ? " he answered, —
" Why, master, he want doin' no good whare he
wer : so I tho't that I would put him whare he
would do good."
I have never since felt any repugnance about
taking whatever I wanted for subsistence from the
enemy. This sleeping out of doors, lying down in the
very lap of good Mother Earth, is a glorious habit.
We, who had always slept in the third-story back
of a brick house, with no prospect from the
window but four feet square of blue sky above, and,
below, a city grape-vine, trying to live in spite of
the three cart-loads of loam which were deposited
years ago, and have never been disturbed since,
though they are now as hard as sand-stone, — I say,
one who has spent the glorious nights in such a
room, and who hqs never aUowed the window to
be open more than three inches, can hardly con
ceive of the luxury of sleeping on the broad bed of
earth, which graciously sends its fragrance of hem
lock and mint to lull you to repose, and of haying
all the air there is to be breathed. I have often
felt that one of the heaviest prices we pay for civi
lization, and the privilege of living in the temper
ate zone, is the necessity of sleeping within-doors.
In the East, the best room* is that which has the

256 ON THE MARCH.
roof of the house for its floor, and the wide heavens
for a ceUing. The poor Indian, who knows neither
how to read nor write, gets closer to Nature than
you or I in our artificial life. He strikes out from
the beach, and swims for a mile, cutting the life-
giving water with his strong arms, and taking in
health and vigor at every pore ; and, when night
comes, he makes a bed of freshly-cut hemlock, un
der the protecting branches of some old tree, and
sleeps so sweetly and soundly, that, in the morning,
he is young again.
It is well known that our soldiers are never so
well as when on the march. The reason is obvi
ous. It is because they have healthy exercise,
generally good food and pure air, and have no time
to indulge in the bad, habits which characterize the
camp. I believe that sleeping in tents is one great
cause of Ulness ; for it frequently happens that the
miasma within the tent is worse than that without.
In a common Sibley tent, ten or more soldiers are
compelled to take up their quarters. At night,
they lie like the spokes of a wheel, the feet towards
the hub, which is the tent-pole. Generally very
improvident, they close every aperture before re
tiring ; and, in less than two hours, the air has all
been inhaled and exhaled. In the course of the
next six hours, it undergoes the same process three
times. With all creatiop to breathe in, the soldier

ON THE MARCH. 257
persists in occupying as smaU a space as possible
and in being strangely economical of air. Hence
it is that the lazy camp-Ufe is more injurious and
more demoralizing to troops than the march or the
battle-field. On the night of which I speak, the moon shone
through the green foliage, and lighted up our camp ;
while the fires which were built here and there,
the blue-coats hurrying to and fro on important
culinary business, and the groups of singers fiUing
the woods with the rousing tones of the "Star-
spangled Banner " or some other patriotic air,
served to render the scene at once picturesque and
romantic. The next morning we heard that the " Mononga-
hela " was going to try her new gun. I was very
desirous of seeing the effect of her shell : so some
half-dozen of us mounted our horses, rode up the
levee about four miles, then dismounted, and crept
up under the levee, until we were immediately
opposite the lower batteries of the enemy. The air
was so calm, that we could hear them shouting as
the gunboat came steaming up. We were within
range of their rifles ; and, under ordinary circum
stances, should have skedaddled most ingloriously.
But the attention of our well-wishers on the other
side of the river was too much occupied with the
frowning gunboat to take heed of us. We sat

258 ON THE MARCH.
quietly on the bank of the river, in a good position
for observation. The " Monongahela " was at first
full four miles off, and her shell flew without any
great degree of accuracy. When, however, she
steamed up to within two miles and a half, she did
good execution. The shell came whizzing through
the air, making us instinctively cringe ; and struck
within a circle two hundred feet in diameter. The
workmen at the fort, with becoming bravado, at
first kept on with their shovels and picks. - But
once a shell burst just over their heads, — not
twenty feet in the air ; and such a scrambling for
the house never was seen. Pell-mell, one over the
other, for fear a second shell should overtake them,
they hurried on. Whea safely lodged in the house,
they seemed out of danger. But, in a few minutes,
another weU- directed shell burst just over the
ridge-pole ; and, like a covey of frightened birds,-
they fluttered out of the house in most admirable
confusion, and made for the woods. The Yankee
gun had scared them weU ; for it was full two hours
before a man was again seen on the works.
Early the next day, we started on our reconnois
sance, — two regiments, and a section of artillery.
We went thus in force, because the reports con
cerning the number of rebels on that side of the
river were very contradictory. Capt. Youngblood,
of the signal- corps, had been takon the previous

ON THE MARCH. 259
evening, together with four of his men. They
were very much chagrined at their capture, and
evidently attempted to mislead us as much as
possible. We had not gone more than half a dozen
mUes, however, before we learned all we wanted
to know. The negroes were our informers. With
joy indescribable, they rushed out of their cabins
at our approach, expressing the fervor of their
feelings in every conceivable way. " God bress
you all ! " cried an ancient and sooty dame, hold
ing her hands up to give us her benediction.
While the whites on the plantation looked and
talked as impudently as they dared, teUing us aU
sorts of stories to confuse us, the darkies would
gather round, listening, and, every once in a Avhile,
give vent to their surprise at their master's men
dacity by the most ludicrous roUing-up of the
eyes, and by. clasping their hands, with the ejacu
lation, " 0 Lord 1 what is white fokes coming to ? "
After having interrogated the planter sufficient
ly, we often turned to question the negroes ; and
generally learned the exact truth. At least, it was
always evident that they desired not to mislead.
We could trust them implicitly on all common
points. They knew whether there were any rebels
in Siat parish ; and, if there were, where they were
stationed. But we never could trust their estimate
of distance or numbers. They do not seem to

260 ON THE MARCH.
know the difference between one mile and six,
and are as likely to say five hundred as fifty. This
defect is quite universal.
The negro, however, was, without a single ex
ception, the friend of our army. He would never
hesitate to give the required answer, whether it
pertained to the rebel force, or even the private
affairs of his owners. Many and many a time have
we gone up to the master with —
" Where are your horses, sir ? "
And he has ans,wered with infinite naiivetS, —
"My horses, sir, have all been taken, by the
Confederates. The last one was stolen yesterday
morning." And, when we got out to the gate, some sable
boy has quietly said, " De ole master say de bosses
all gone ; but I know where dey is. I find 'em for
you, if you come wid me,"
The result has been, that, in the course of half
an hour, from one to four valuable horses have
been taken from their covert in the woods, and
added to our force.
Every plantation is bounded on the back side by
heavy woods ; and here is a convenient hiding-
place for all property that ought not to meet the
public eye.
I was sent up to one house, at about eleven,
A.M., to say to the planter that twenty of our offi
cers would dine with him in two hours.

ON THE MARCH. 261
" WeU, sir, I suppose I must cook a dinner for
you," he said in very surly tones.
" Yes, sir," I repUed. "Must is the proper word,
under the circumstances."
" WeU, what shall I give you ? I have a lot of
salt meat in the house : wUl that do ? "
" Hardly," I answered. " We are not accustomed
to that kind of food ; and some of our officers are
very dainty, and inclined 'to dyspepsia. I see you
have fowls and turkeys in abundance. I think
they would serve our turn very well. Be sure, if
you roast them, to have them well browned, with a
great deal of dressing."
I knew my man, of course ; and so did the gene
ral when he sent me there. His house had been
the favorite rendezvous of the guerillas for a long
time, and we feared that they had fared sumptu
ously. Why should he not feed us as weU as he
did rebels ? So I turned ; and, when I got to the
gate, I caUed on old auntie, and said, " Auntie, in
two hours we want dinner. Don't forget that we
are friends." The old woman chuckled, and rolled
up her eyes as she replied, " Master, you better
b'leve none of us wiU forget dat." I was never in
my life more certain of having a good dinner.
We rode Jong and hard that day, swimming our
horses over the bayous, and getting ourselves into
a most delightfuUy drenched condition. At the

262 ON THE MAECB.
end of the two hours, we had learned what we
wanted to know, — that there were only a few
guerillaa on that side of the river ; and that the
crevasse caused by the cutting of the levee by the
rebels, when they learned of our landing, was im
passable. When we reached the aforementioned
house, we were greeted by a dinner such us a sol
dier has no right to see every day. Turkeys, ducks,
and chickens, roasted, boiled, and broiled, with a
most charming absence of salt meat, met our de
lighted vision. The old auntie had put on the
table the very best the house afforded. The best
dishes, forks, and spoons were all paraded ; and, in
their eagerness to serve us, at least a dozen of the
negroes insisted on waiting on the tea-table. They
fairly crowded the old master and mistress out of
the room ; for they soon, in high dudgeon, retired
to the gallery to meditate on the natural bashful-
ness of the Yankee character. ¦
The people in all this region were the worst kind
of secessionists : still, we never failed to give them
an opportunity to repent of their political sins be
fore applying the extreme rigor of the law. Lieut,
Puller, of Gen. Dudley's staff, was very efficient
and acute in the administration of military justice.
He would halt his squad of men just out of sight
of a rich planter's house, then ride up to the door,
and knock ; and this is the kind of conversation

ON THE MARCH. 263
which generally transpired. It is at once instruct
ive and amusing.
"Is Mr.  within?"
« He is."
" Tell him I would like to see him."
Mr.  soon made his appearance, looking very
red, and demanded the lieutenant's business in
haughty tones.
"I have come, sir, to inquire," the lieutenant
would say in his blandest manner, " if you would
like to come under the protection of the United
States laws, and take the oath of allegiance ? "
Mr.  generally turned redder than ever,
and said in a very insolent way, —
"No, sir: I desire to do no such thing."
"Perhaps, sir, you would Uke a little time to
consider the point," the lieutenant would rejoin,
unwilling to take any undue advantage.
" No, sir : my mind is made up already, and un
alterably." "Very well, sir, that is all I want to knpw.
Boys," calling to the squad, "you may take this
gentleman's mules and horses, and see that his
sugar "-— perhaps he has a couple of hundred
hogsheads — " is carted to the levee for .ship
ment." " But, lieutenant," would break in the astonished
and now thoroughly awakened secessionist.

264 ON THE MARCH.
" There is no ' but,' sir, about it. You have
openly .avowed unalterable enmity to the United
States ; and I shall take from your plantation every
thing which I can use for the Government, and
every thing which I can sell for it."
Th^> thing is handsomely done. Discomfited
secesh slams his door, cursing himself for a fool,
and the rest of mankind for knaves. The Yan
kees have got the better of him at last, and
he certainly wiU die of mortification. What seces
sionism failed to do for him, chagrin will accom
plish. Two things I like to see, ^- an official
thoroughly in earnest, and an avowed enemy
roughly handled.
This earnestness is a characteristic of Dudley.
He enters into the spirit of the soldier's life, and
attends to all its duties, con amore. He is a very
strict disciplinarian ; and no one can punish for a
military offence like " Old Dud," as the boys call
him. But of one thing they are all sure, — that,
when there is work to be done, he is not found
in the rear of his column.
He has one practice, however, which is altoge
ther more interesting as a novelty than as a habit.
He is accustomed to ride, late at night, through
the entire line of his pickets ; and woe be unto
that poor fellow who is found off duty ! At Baton
Rouge, our pickets are only three miles from those

ON THE MARCH. 265
of the enemy, with a dense wood between ; and
it is doubly important that they should be on the
alert. One night, at about half-past ten, he asked
me to go the rounds with him. It was quite dark ;
and, ergo, favorable to our purpose. After having
met with the usual fortune for an hour and a half,
he asked me to attempt to pass a certain out
post, whUe he remained in the background. So I
dodged about until I succeeded in attracting the
attention of the guard by my proximity ; when I
heard, in a gruff voice, the —
" Who goes there ? "
I was about to disregard this chaUenge ; when
the guard cried out again, — •
" If yees don't stand still just where ye be, I'U
see what effect a bullet will perjuce."
This threat was uttered in a tone of such deci
sion, that I judged it best to be discreet. The
picket marched me up untU my body touched his
bayonet-point, all the while berating me soundly
for trying to play some game on him.
" Now, thin, tell me who ye be, any way, and
what for ye're here."
I attempted to move to one side, being slightly
uneasy ; but he cried out, —
" Stand mighty stiU, now, tUl I caU the corporal
of the guard, or I'll see how far my bayonet wUl
go into ye with one shove ! "
22

266 ON THE MARCH.
I hope my courage wiU not be impugned if I
confess that I stood very still indeed.
" Now, my good fellow," I began, " I am a brother
soldier. I just want to go out for half an hour,
and promise to be back. Come, I'll give you ten
dollars to let me go."
. " To the Divil with your ten dollars I " replied
the honest son of Erin, growing very wroth."
" WeU, then, I wiU give you fifty. Only let me
pass ; for I must go."
" Now, thin, you thief of a rebel," — he was evi
dently very indignant, — " if ye budge an inch
till the corporal comes and sees who ye be, I'll
just let drive at you I "
He cocked his gun ; and I made no attempt to
escape, as you can easily guess.
One more trial, however. " Now, look here, com
rade : won't you let me pass on any conditions ? "
" Not if you were the Saviour of the wurruld ! —
Corporal of the guard ! Corporal of the guard ! "
I was taken, sandwiched between two soldiers,
and marched up to the guard-tent ; when the gene
ral gave orders for my release, and praised the
soldiers for their good conduct. It will be a long
time before they forget the kind words of " Old
Dud," and it will be a longer time before he gets
me to go the grand rounds with him again. There
is something decidedly unpleasant connected with

ON THE MARCH. 267
the bayonet exercise and the whiz of a bullet. I
know there is a vast deal of romance about them ;
but then there is some reaUty. I like the former,
but have a decided repugnance to the latter.
I hope that my earnestness in speaking kindly of
Gen. Dudley will not lead the reader to suppose
that I have an admiration for all the men who
occupy an equally high position of trust : on the
contrary, I am greatly chagrined at some of our
military Americanisms. I think, that in this war,
so far, every thing seems to run to a brigadier-
generalship. All diseases are pretty sure to end
there. To wear " the single star" on the shoulder
is alike the ambition of the civilian and the man of
war. If one has climbed a high mountain, and
recklessly exposed life and Umb, he is at once
rewarded with a white star on a black velvet
ground, with the privilege of having about his
person a staff of cousins and aunts, — for there are
a great many old aunts who wear pantaloons, —
and two hundred and twenty-five dollars a month,
and perquisites to keep up the dignity of his posi
tion with. If a captain, with a squad of men,
wades through fifty miles of marsh, when there's a
good hard road not forty rods off, and comes into
camp all splashed with mud, with eyes wide open,
and ready tongue to tell of narrow escapes from
tripping over logs secretly hidden in the swamp

268 ON THE MARCH.
by the rebels, he is at once promoted to the
command of a brigade, and sent into some obscure
corner of the Republic, where there is no possi
bility of doing any good, and very little possibility
of doing any harm. In Europe, it is considered a
great honor to be promoted from first lieutenant to
captain on account of good conduct in the field.
High offices are reached only by slow degrees, and
each successive step is won by a new proof of
valor. But here we put on our favorites the
seven-league boots of Jack the Giant-kiUer ; and,
at a single jump, they leap from a position where
their mediocrity is not discovered to a higher place,
from which they are sure to be seen to be what
they are, — good lieutenants, but very bad briga
dier-generals. I believe in rewarding valor: we
ought to have medals, and, indeed, a thousand
means of doing honor to those who have shown
great courage ; but surely it is not necessary to
dub everybody a brigadier who fights well, and
then wonder where we can send him so that he
wiU be out of haim's way.
My feeling is, that this epidemic, or madness,
has done much towards prolonging the war. The
country is, to-day, over-stocked with generals.
Our boys have many times been sacrificed by men
who would have handled a regiment very effec
tively, but who have floundered about in their

ON THE MABCH. 269
brigade Uke a boy who has suddenly stepped into
too deep water. As proof of this, you wiU find,
that, when a speaker is introduced to an audience
as a general, the people by no means consider,
that therefore he is a fine miUtary man. On the
contrary, we aU know, that, if there is a captain to
be found who has been taken prisoner by the
rebels, — no matter about asking why; who has
endured a reasonable amount of suffering at their
hands, and has a glib tongue to teU his story in
country villages, and excite the inhabitants thereof
to the recruiting-point, — we act very foolishly
about him. What do we do with him ? Use him
simply as a speaker? — a legitimate and necessary
part of our military machinery, — one of the fan
ners of the flame of public feeling ? Not at aU.
We disgrace ourselves, and the sacred cause in
which we are engaged, by setting him at work to
raise five thousand men, and then making him a
brigadier-general to command them. It is too long
a jump. It bespeaks foUy on our part, and it
recklessly imperils the lives of our noblest sons.
Another fatal consequence that foUows is the con
stant flutter in which the newly-fledged and over
sensitive monarchs keep themselves. Gen. Smith
is making a raid, and, forgetting the necessity for
an advance guard, — for the velvet on his shoul
ders is quite new, and he has not yet learned all the

270 ON THE MAECH.
ways of war, — has fallen into an ambuscade. He
does the only two things that are to be done, —
fights" a little, and then retreats. Being hotly pur
sued by the foe, he sends in terrible haste to Gen.
Brown, who has pitched his tent on a neighboring
hill, for re-enforcements. Does Gen. Brown at
once order his whole force into line, and march to
the relief of his compeer ? Not at all. He quietly
sends a messenger, asking Gen. Smith the date of
his commission. It happens to be Jan. 1, while
Gen. Brown's is Dec. 31 ; and so, instead of sending
relief, he gets into a towering passion, and curses
Gen. Smith for an unmilitary dog, who attempts to
give orders to his superior officers. This is all
very pretty; and, had we nothing else to do or
think of, we might deem such little quarrels very
good sport: but we have something else to do.
WhUe these two fools' are fighting about the differ
ence between Jan. 1 and Dec. 31, our boys are
being shot down, our flag endangered, our cause
injured, and our Northern homes filled with the
shadows of death.
One thing is certain : too much cannot be said of
our rank and file, and not enough has yet been told
of our officers. The latter, take the army through,
are greatly inferior to the former. We have in the
ranks men of high social position, of culture, of
wealth, who have been moved by the loftiest patri-

ON THE MAECH. 271
otism to give themselves to their country; we
have also pure-minded country-boys, farmers' sons,
by the thousand, who Avere fired by a holy thought
when they said good-by to father and mother,
¦ and the old house in which they were born ; and
we have large numbers of officers, who were mem
bers of military companies at a time when they
were in greatest disrepute, and who got their posi
tion only because they were acquainted with the
rudiments of military tactics, and presented them
selves at a time when we were glad to confide in
any one who told us that he knew something of the
art of war.
This, however, is graduaUy regulating itself.
Some time after this. Gen. Banks made his de
monstration against the rebels opposite Brashear
City. They were too few in number to offer any
great opposition ; and, being made up largely of
unwiUing conscripts, did little else than effect a
masterly retreat. At one or two places on the
road, they made a stand, but only for a short time.
I was down the river when the fight began, and
without any means of transportation. We — Chap
lain Wheelock and I — hurried by rail to Brashear
City. That evening, the booming of cannon in the
distance made us very uneasy. There were no
means of getting over the bay until the next after-

272 ON THE MARCH.
noon; and, by that time, the army, which made
splendid marches, was about fifty miles away.
When once we got on the other side of the bay,
however, we succeeded in gobbUng two tenth-rate
horses and saddles, and started. It was a long
chase. The first afternoon, we rode thirty miles,
and through a country swept clean of every thing
by two armies ; and the second day, after having
ridden fifty-five miles, we came up with the rear
division of our forces. Never did an army make
cleaner work than ours. The best horses had aU
been taken by the Texans of the enemy ; but, in
their haste, they left every thing that was not
easUy portable. Our boys drove to the rear every
pony and mule, every ox and cow and sheep. They
did not leave, on an average, two chickens to a
plantation. Wherever they encamped, the fences
served as beds and firewood. A more forlorn and
destitute set of people never were seen. Some
cried, some cursed, some whined ; and some, over
come with fear, hid themselves in the woods, leav
ing every thing to the tender mercies of the army.
I could not help contrasting these times and our
policy with the times and policy of two years ago
in Virginia. This was war, with all -its penalties
and all its horrors : that was a system of fighting
by which nobody was hurt, and nothing injured.
I remember well, how one of our colonels had

ON THE MAECH. 273
marched his men for twenty hours through mud and
rain J and, having bivouacked at night on a large
plantation, began to use the fences to warm and
dry his boys, and cook their food. He was ordered
by one of our brigadiers to stop ; and was actually
forced to detail a squad of men to guard the fence,
while his soldiers went to bed cold and wet and
hungry. That policy, thank God I is buried. In
this department, so far, war has been only war.
These very houses that wero ransacked, had, each
ef them, a representative in the army that we were
chasing ; and now they wero suffering the legiti
mate consequences of rebellion. It was my first
peep into rebeldom. I was in a province and
among a people recently conquered ; and my eyes
and ears were both busy, and my experiences were
exceedingly interesting. Nothing rejoiced me more
than tho fact, everywhere patent, that the poorer
classes — tho non-slaveholding classes — are, al
most without exception, on our side. The unity of
the South (as I have shown elsewhere) is simply a
bold figure of rhetoric. The poor are weary of tho
war : it has done and it promises to do them no
good whatever. If the South conquers, their so
cial position -is as it was. They have always been
the serfs of the rich planters, doing as they were
bidden, and voting as they wero advised, with no
privUeges, and no chance for social advanefement.
23

274 ON THE MAECH.
If the North is successful, they see clearly that the
old system of vassalage is broken up. The impassa
ble barriers of society between the rich and the
poor will be destroyed. The chances for compe
tition in business, and the opportunities for edu
cation (they speak of this with a great deal of
feeling), will be vastly increased. They are not
exuberant in expressing their hopes for our tri
umph ; indeed, how can they be ? for they have
each a son conscripted, and somewhere in the
Southern army : but still it is evident that they
understand the issues of the day as well as we.
Another thing which struck me with some surprise
was the general scarcity of food. The richest
planters could give us nothing better than corn-
bread and the coarsest Texan beef. They had no
coffee, and said that they had had none for more
than a year. One wea,lthy lady, whose husband, a
few days before, had run his best negroes and
mules back into the country, confessed (and her
eyes snapped as she did so) that she had enjoyed
but two meals a day for more than six months, and
~lhose of the humblest kind. There is but little
doubt that the breadstuffs of the Confederacy are
very low. England and France — those immacu
late champions of Liberty — have done all they
could to avert the inevitable starvation by filling
Texas fuU of edibles ; but, after all, it is quite evi-

ON THE MAECH. 275
dent that all interior towns have suffered im
mensely for every thing except corn -meal and
coarse meat.
There was very little excitement to be found in
the rear of the column : so, the next morning, hav
ing changed our jaded horses for two better beasts
with a kind-hearted rebel (who, however, did not
seem to relish the trade so much as we), we started
for the advance. We were most of the time with
Capt. Williamson's company of cavalry skirmishers.
This, certainly, is the most exciting arm of the
service. Fast riding, dashing onsets, scouring the
woods, all come in as a part of the skirmisher's
duty. From that time till we reached Opelousas,
we did not lose sight of the rear-guard of the re
treating column. Every hour or two, they would
make a stand, deliver a volley or two, and then
ride with all their might for another covert. These
Texans almost always dismount when they fire.
Hiding their bodies behind their horses, they rest
their guns in the saddles, and thus render our
return-fire useless until they are mounted. Once
we had a fine view of them. Some four or five-
hundred lingered by the edge of a thick wood,
hoping to get a few chance shots at us. One of
our Parrott guns was brought to bear on them ;
and, in a very few "minutes, they concluded that in
the woods was better than out of them. At another

276 ON THE MAECH.
time, we came suddenly upon a broad plain ; a,nd
on the farther side of it were some two thousand of
the foe, all mounted. We sat, and looked at tbem
for a little while ; but, as our cannon had been mired
about a mile in the rear, we were unable to make
an attack. Our cavalry were itching for a charge ;
but it Avas concluded best not to risk any thing :
so, after the interchange of some hundred or two
shots, they moved quietly away. Then the chase
began anew. Once only was the advance cavalry
taken by surprise. There is, close to the little
village of Opelousas, a dense wood. From infor
mation which we had gained, we felt sure thajt
there was no force in the thicket ; and so rode lei
surely on. When within about a hundred yards,
of a covert, whiz, whiz, came the bullets, singing
around our heads. Only two of our boys tumbled
from their saddles ; and these were killed instantly.
Of the two, one was a negro. He was acting as
guide ; but Avas well armed, like the rest of the
cavalry. He was a brave fellow ; and, when he
was struck, was in the van. I remained by his
side for some little time, anxious to see the. effect
produced on the soldiers by the sight of death. I
had been talking Avith Porte Crayon, just before,
on this question. He surprised me by teUing me
of the perfect indifference on such matters that
characterizes the soldier. He said, that, after the

ON THE MAECH. 277
battle of Antietam, the over-Avearied boys lay down
on the field, by the side of the killed, to sleep, and
sometimes even used their dead comrades for pil-
loAVS. One man he told me of, who brought his
fiddle, Avhich he had carried through the campaign,
and, sitting down on the nearest dead body, began
to play and sing. Indeed, there is no merrier time
in the soldier's life than just before and just after
a battle. When the wounded are brought into the
surgeon's room, they are met by the jokes of their
c6mrades, also wounded.
" Well, Jim, where did you get hit, old boy ? "
Jim grunts out, " The rascals took me in the hip ;
and now I shall have to hobble all the rest of my
days. Well, there's nothing like dying for one's
country ! "
I stdod by the dead soldier as our boys went bj',
and was struck by their cold indifference. Once
in a Avhile, I noticed a look of pity ; but, generally,
the impulse to gaze was only curiosity.
" Look, Tom ! there's one covey gone. Say,
they hit him right in, the chops, didn't they?"
It is not on the battle-field that soldiers recognize
the solemnity of death. Then they are under the
influence of excitement. But I have' seen them
affected to tears as they stood by the grave of a
comrade ; and while I spoke to them of those far
away, whose hearts would be stricken by the sad

278 ON THE MAECH.
news, and of that other home, the soldier's home,
where the good Father has a room in his great
mansion for every true soul, they have been sub
dued, and even bowed down. A soldier, like a
sailor, is a creature of impulse. His Ufe makes
him so. Every day is so full of uncertainty, that
at length he feels that the immediate present alone
is his ; and he lives in it and enjoys it as best he
can. Your days are like the links of a chain : this
one presumes the next, and so on indefinitely. His
days are all insulated. There is no necessary con
nection between to-day and to-morrow. He holds
this hour firmly in his grasp : the next he may not
be able to hold. So he grows reckless and care
less. After our column reached Opelousas, I left it,
intending to go on with my work in the laber sys
tem ; and I found but one thing, that, to my mind,
marred the glory of our march through the TSche.
That was the extensive system of plundering and
pUlaging which was carried on by the stragglers, —
a class of men sufficiently large to attract atten
tion. I afterwards found that their .practices had
been made known to the general, and that several
of the offenders had .been condemned to be shot.
I am not one of those who would have mercy on a
rebel ; but even war is not exactly barbarism : it
does not give a soldier license to do as he chooses

ON THE MAECH. 279
with what does not belong to him. He has no
right to enter a poor man's house, and, holding his
pistol to his head, frighten him out of tAvo hundred
dollars in gold and silver, — his all. The soldier is
hired to fight. If he is in the enemy's country, he
should feed off and live on him : more than this
he has no right to do. What is worst of all,
this system of plundering demoralizes a force, and,
in a short time, renders it ungovernable. Let
it be known that the soldiers may leave the ranks
at will, and in a short time you will have no men to
command. What made me more indignant was the fact, that
the men who were bearing the brunt of the battle
were not the ones who were enriching themselves.
They simply hewed a way, through which others,
less worthy, came at their leisure. The stragglers
numbered not more than five hundred in all. These
did all the mischief. One of these we found in the
Newtown jail, with a thousand doUars in gold and
silver on his person. If you should go up to any
cottage within fifty mUes of the rear, you would
probably find some five or six of these fellows sit
ting in the gallery, smoking, sleeping, er boasting
of their exploits. If you should take the trouble
to empty their pockets, you would find an assort
ment of articles sufficiently large for a Jew to
commence business with. They would show you

280 ON THE MAECH.
gold pencils, silver spoons, and large rolls of Con
federate bills, and offer to sell you relics enough to
fill a good-sized museum. There was an independ
ence or an audacity about these fellows which was
very striking. They Avould enter a house with the
air of one who owned the place, and order tho land
lord to prepare dinner for two or three, as the case
might be ; and, whUe the frightened Creole Avas
hurrying and bustling to do their bidding, they were
quietly opening aU his draAvers, looking under his
beds, unlocking his trunks, and making Avhatever
discoveries they could. Perhaps, by the time dinner
was announced, the Avhole party would have donned
a new suit of clothes ; and, not satisfied AVith eating
the best the poor man had, would proceed to fill their
pockets with his watches, his wife's jewelry, and all
the little articles of vertu which could be found. At
Franklin, Mr. Secesh and his family were quietly
seated at the breakfast-table. Upon congratulating
himself, that, so far, his property had remained in
tact, he saw half a dozen soldiers just entering his
gate. They came very leisurely into the room
Avhere he sat with his Avife and children, and politely
requested them to rise from tho table, and make
room for Uncle Sam's boys : then, after having
satisfied their hunger with Avhat the planter had
supplied for himself, they pocketed every silver fork
and spoon, and as leisurely took their departure. I

ON THE MAECH. 281
confess, that, in this particular instance, I heard
Mr. Secesh Avhine about his trouble, Avith a great
deal of inward chuckling. He Avas a bad man, a
Northern man, an adventurer, Avho had married
a large plantation, and out-Heroded Herod in his
virulence against tho Yankees.
But tho practice I most deeply deplore. Once
I came near getting into difficulty by trying to
check it. I remained all night with a man who
had suffered severely from these military thieves.
About five o'clock in the morning, I Avas roused by
a tremendous noise down stairs. Dressing myself
Avith aU due haste, I went to the Avindow, and,
looking down, saw one of the gang just emerging
from tho cellar Avindow below, his arms and pockets
full of plunder. Presenting my pistol to his caput,
I demanded what ho Avas doing. He turned sud
denly, caught sight of the ugly little revolver close
to his brains," and, with a rapidity only equaUed by
a turtle drawing in his head Avhen struck, he tum
bled back into the room, greatly surprised. I went
to the door to find the rest of the gang, when I
Avas met by the roundest and most complete curs
ing it has ever been my fortune to receive. Ex
pletives Avhich I had supposed Avero long since
obsolete, and all the most damnatory phrases in
our language, were used Avith refreshing license.
The men had screened themselves on the other

282 ON THE MABCH.
side of a bayou ; and, when I drew my weapon
on them, they dodged behind the levee, and
made good their escape. Just then, I recollected
that I was in my shirt-sleeves, and without any
insignia of rank, and started for the house to
get my coat. I had proceeded but a few steps,
however, when I found myself surrounded by five
of the gang, each with his musket. A- pretty fix
to be in, surely 1 The rascals might shoot me, and
then swear that I was a planter who had offered
them violence. Nothing but the most unadul
terated bravado would clear me. So, just as I
was pondering what it was best to do, the fellow
who had played the turtle so beautifully, quietly
cocked his musket, and said, —
" Throw down your pistol, or I will shoot 1 "
This, of course, was unendurable. My pistol
had on it the name of the friend who gave it to
me, and it was one of the last things to be given
up. He repeated his very praiseworthy determina
tion to shoot me ; when I rather took him by sur
prise by bellowing in my loudest tones, —
" Sirrah, I place you under arreSt ; and, if you
budge an inch, you shall become intimately ac
quainted with that " (displaying my pistol to the
best possible advantage). "Shoulder arms!" I
repeated, as loud as I could bawl.

ON THE MAECH, 283
The fellow was completely disconcerted, and ac
tually came to the shoulder arms ; when I put on
the coat I had sent for (having on shoulder-straps,
of course), and placed the feUow under arrest.
But I never preferred charges against him, and so
the matter ended as a joke.
But, as a simple example of the impudence and
daring of these stragglers, the anecdote serves its
purpose. There was one thing which aroused the just in
dignation of the army. It was the attempt of the
inhabitants to deceive us. In some conspicuous
place would be hung up the British flag, or the
red, white, and blue of the pretended French popu
lation. Not once between Brashear City and Ppe-
lousas was the French or English flag waving in
company with that of the United States. To my
mind, they had no right to claim exemption from
the ravages of war on the ground that they were
British or French subjects. They were citizens of
this country. Most of them had lived here from
ten to twenty-five years. They had made their
fortunes here, had married their wives here, and
lived in luxuriant ease on the property of their
wives, who were subject to the United-States Gov
ernment and laws. By some quibble of interna
tional law, such beings may have the military right
to claim protection ; but their moral right is ex-

284 On THE MARCH.
tremely doubtful. The property Avhich haS been
acquired under our Government ought not to be
held as secure and exempted from confiscation,
unless there are two flags, — the one proving alle
giance to the British sovereign, and the other
showing respect for, and temporary allegiance to,
the United States. Our soldiers caught this idea
at once. They regarded the exhibition of a foreign
flag as a direct insult, and the inmates of such
houses had very little mercy shoAvn them. I verily
believe, that, if a land-owner had hoisted the Ameri
can flag, not a soldier Avould have touched his
property. It would have been held sacred by the
rudest of our boys. But the foreign flag seemed
defiant ; and the men who raised it (in many cases,
they openly avoAved their sympathy Avith the
South) Avere no more free than their neighbors
from violence done to themselves and their prop
erty. Nearly all the foreigners whom I have met
have been insulting cowards. They have spoken
against the " invaders," until compelled to silence
by direct order ; and have, I am glad to say, suf
fered equal damage with those who were more
honest and more manly.
When I got back to the city, I heard the glori
ous rumor, that five hundred of our cavalry had
made their way through five hundred miles of
rebel territory, and were safely encamped just

ON THE MAECH. 285
beyond our pickets at Baton Rouge. There was
a certain sonorousness and resonance to the rumor,
tbat gave it the appearance of truth. It had not
about it that dimness, vagueness, and bashfulnesg
Avith which most of Madam Rumor's children make
their appearance. It came rattling down on the
ground in full armor, like a healthy, strong-limbed
man. I shut myself up in my room for full an
hour, wondering if it could be true ; then rushed
out to the St. Charles, looked on the book, and
saw the name of Col. Grierson in good round cha
racters. It was not a dream ; and so, with a heart
swelling with excitement, I cried out, '•' Eureka I "
and rushed hither and thither, until I found tho
hero, Avhom I gra,sped by the hand as though he
had been my brother. He had been through
every conceivable danger. The enemy had sought
to cut him off, first with five thousand men, and
again Avith three thousand ; but, with a rapidity
which argued skill and daring, he made long cir
cuits, and got free. He had as many as five
skirmishes in the course of twenty-four hours.
Several tim'es he charged on superior forces, and
scattered them. He confirmed, in the most as
sured manner, the opinions which I have already
expressed concerning the strength of the Con
federacy, and the feelings of certain classes of the
people. He said, " The Confederacy is an empty

286 ON THE MAECH.
shell. I was surprised at the appearance of things
inside the ring. The strength of the rebels has
been over-estimated. They have neither the ar
mies nor the resources we have given them credit
for. Passing through their country, I found thou
sands of good Union men, who are ready and
anxious to return to their aUegiance the moment
they can do so with safety to themselves and
familieis. They will raUy round the old flag by
scores, wherever our army advances. I could
have brought away a thousand with me who
were anxious to come, — men whom I found
fugitives from their home, hid in the swamps
and forests, where they were hunted like wild
beasts, by the conscripting - officers, with blood
hounds." At Brookhaven, the citizens begged for paroles.
At Louisville, every house was closed. The inhar
bitants had been told, that; if the Yankees should
ever come, they would ravish their daughters, but
cher their sons, and pillage their homes. When
they were disabused of this idea, — of course, they
were mostly poor-Creoles, — they were profuse in
their hospitalities, and in their expressions of a
hope that the Union would be restored.
This was the testimony of all the officers. It
proves what I have before asserted, — that this
RebeUion originated only in the hearts of the large

ON THE MAECH. 287
land-owners ; that the humbler classes were won
to acquiescence by bribes, threats, and vigilance
committees ; that to-day these same land-owners
have lost their influence with the people, 'who see
through the perfidy of their advisers, and are
ready to welcome the flag of Washington to their
hearts and homes.
The gaUant colonel gave valuable evidence upon
another subject. He has proved, beyond all doubt,
the exceeding value of cavalry as a military arm.
For some unaccountable reason, there has been a
strong prejudice against it ; and yet it has done
more than any thing else to give the rebels their
reputation for quick movements, surprises, and
raids. There is an opinion abroad, that our army
is naturally sluggish ; that its chief characteristics
are fortitude and patience ; while the rebels, lack
ing in these qualities, make up for them by a cer
tain genius for dash, which makes them a terrible
foe. Wherever Stuart rides, he carries terror
with him. His victories are . half won before he
strikes a blow. Our soldiers feel that he may
pounce on them at any minute, and that he is
resistless as a hawk in a fowl-yard. The rebels
have done more to win respect for themselves by
their cavalry raids than by all their infantry move
ments. Even in Europe, it is said that the South
is brilliant, quick, daring even to recklesemess ;

288 ON THE MARCH.
while the North is cautious, slow, but ponderous.
The criticism is a true one ; but there is no need
of its being so. We are not a slow people. We
have all the elements pf character necessary to
brUIiant movements largely developed. The little
cavalry we have abundantly proves this. The
rebels cannot shoAv horsemen more tractable, firm,
enduring, or skilful, than those of Magee or Barret,
Williamson or Perkins. I have ridden with these
men, and know how they handle themselves. They
are ready for any service, and are most delighted
when they have a chance to show their endurance.
I saw Perkins, at Franklin, get off his horse, lie
down on his back, have a buUet-Avound in his leg
dressed, mount his beast again, and dash into the
woods, followed by his men Avith a wild hurrah !
I have seen Williamson, Avhon he had his hand
badly wounded by a sabre, carry his company over
the plain to flank the enemy, and drive them from
their covert. I know it is said that Southerners
are riders by nature ; but there is a vast deal of
sophistry in the remark. Our boys will ride at
break-neck speed, feet out" of the stirrups, SAving-
ing their swords in great and little circles, over
ditches and through the woods, and into the midst
pf the enemy ; and that is as good riding as you
need for the cavalry service. Our cavalry horses,
too, are vastly superior to those of. the enemy

ON THE MARCH. 289
generally. Northern horses will weigh, on an
average, nine hundred pounds ; whUe those of the
Southerners, generally a cross between a Creole
pony and what is called an American horse, will
not average more than eight hundred pounds. In
a charge, that hundred pounds is worth every
thing. You have not merely impetuosity, but you
have weight, which is a very important item. Let
us get over this unfortunate prejudice ; let us
give the army its due proportion of cavalry, and
allow it to make raids on the enemy; and our
boys, I am sure, wiU carry terror wherever they go,
and find their way into the remotest corners of the
Confederacy, and take rough hcdd of its very heart.
Why, neither Morgan with all his boasted exploits,
nor Stuart, nor Wheeler, can teU a story that wUl
compare in heroism with that of Col. Grierson.
They never traversed five hundred miles of our
country, — a large stint for sixteen days, — doing
injury which cannot be repaired in three months.
What they have done is child's play by the side of
this. The moral effect of Grierson's exploit must be
tremendous ; yet it is only one of a long series of
exploits which our boys are all ready to achieve.
AU they ask is permission, and in a wonderfully
sho.rt time they will so harass and terrify the in
fantry of the enemy, — tearing up the railroads,
24

290 ON THE MAECH.
destroying their telegraphs, seizing their commis
sary-stores, — that they will fly to their homes
in dismay. It is in the Northern heart to do this.
Grierson has commenced : Magee and Perkins and
Williamson are ready to carry it on.
The army was afterwards, a second time, taken
to Port Hudson. It had been promised to the nine-
months' men, that they should return to their homes
in August vid the Mississippi River. All of us
hoped the promise might prove a prophecy; but
few had any faith in it. During the first few
months of sixty-three, we all (I mean the whole
North) lived on faith alone. We knew that we
were in the right ; that our cause claimed the help
of the Almighty ; and that, some time, — Heaven
alone knew when, — we should see light. It was
a dark, dreary time. The Potomac Army had
crossed the Rappahannock, and, under glorious Joe
Hooker, was going straight into Richmond ; when
the rebel force met it, threw it into confusion, and
added another to its numberless retreats. It seems
to be a doomed force. Its officers are as brave and
as skilful as those of any other corps d'armee ; its
men are the very flower of the land ; their courage
has never been impeached : still they have, in the
last two years, done little else than check the raids
of the enemy, and keep Washington from being
captured.

ON THE MARCH. 291
I should like to whisper into your ear, by way of
parenthesis, that, if some serious accident should
happen to the telegraph-Avire between Washington
and the headquarters of the Potomac Army (and
by this time it must be terribly tangled, if we
judge by the contradictory messages it has car
ried), the Eastern force would at once accomplish
some brilliant achievement. Interference is the
grand cause of failure. Shut up a few officials I
could name, and Richmond will be ours within
thirty days.
In the West, nothing had been done. Rosecrans,
Grant, Burnside, had been busy enough, but had
effected nothing. We were at a stand-still all over
the country. Thoughtful men began to ask, " How
long will the people bear this silence, which seems
so like defeat, and not murmur ? " And yet, be it
said to the praise of the people, there was no sign
of misgiving on the part of the North : it still gave
its treasure and its sons.
Those months were the dark hour before the
dawn. We knew it not then ; but so it proved.
When our boys invested Port Hudson, they had,
most of them, been in the TSche for a month ; and,
having started in light marching order, were with
out change of clothing. Yet they were uniformly
cheerful, enduring the fatigues and deprivations
of the campaign like veterans. They had no tents.

292 ON THE MAECH.
and, for a long while, no meat ; nothing but coffee
and hard-tack.
Our position was on the further edge of a heavUy
wooded lot ; and our line, shutting the rebel works
in, was about seven mUes long. On the river-side,
the enemy's position was so fortified by nature, that
no number of gunboats could hope to capture it.
On the land-sidcj it was protected by a high para
pet, in front of which was a ditch about twenty
feet wide and six feet deep. Between our posi
tion and theirs was what looked to be a plain,
three-quarters of a mile wide ; but, when examined
by the proper officers, it was found to be full of
deep ravines, at the bottom of which was broken
timber, and very tall, dense chaparral. Under
proper circumstances (i.e., with a good supply of
provisions and ammunition and twenty-five thou
sand men), it could resist any force we could bring
against it.
We made some assaults ; but they were soon
found to be of little use. We could not get near
enough to the enemy to make a dash over the
parapet. We had to grope our way through deep
ravines, or slowly find it under and over fallen
timber. A regiment could not march in line, on
account of the thick chaparral, brier-bushes, and
guUies. We then sat down quietly, to starve the
rebels out, and to harass them by our artillery

ON THE MAECH. 203
practice. We fenced them in with ourguns some
six weeks before they cried, " Enough I "
It was very interesting to go along our line, and
note the little events which history wUl think too
trivial to mention. I spent a few hours with the
Zouaves, who seem to be as wild and willing a set
of men as any in the army. Their sharpshooters
went out every night, carrying twenty-four-hours'
rations ; and, hiding behind some providential hil
lock,' would watch eagerly till some unfortunate
head was lifted above the parapet, when whiz
would go a bullet. Fortunate was the aforemen
tioned head, if it could open its eyes to the world
again. Some of our sharpshooters crawled up to
within a hundred, and even eighty, yards of
the parapet; and, all day, the constant crack pf
the rifle announced that some one unfortunate had
put himself in a dangerous place.
The rebels, too, were good shots. There was
one man who was a source of great annoyance to
us ; and many a poor fellow will testify to his exist
ence by showing a very peculiar and ugly wound
in leg or arm. He used a double-barreled shot-gun,
of English make, with a bore large enough to admit
a ball weighing an ounce and a half. The bullets
he used were double the size of those made for the
Enfield rifle. He covered himself with the long
moss which hung from the branches of every tree ;

294 ON THE MAECH.
and, cUmbing some forty feet up a sturdy cypress,
could get a fine view of many of the sharpshooters,
and even of the boys in the most advanced batte
ries. We never could tell in which tree he was,
though we were Constantly on the watch for him ;
and yet, if you chanced to show your head over
the cotton-bales, which were our fortifications, you
would be reminded of the necessity of prudence by
a distinct hum which is a very unpleasant sound to
hear. He disabled men standing more than three-
quarters of a mile off. I do not know that he actu
ally killed any one at that distance ; but he made
some very disagreeable wounds.
One of our men was captured by a very neat
- piece of strategy. About a hundred and fifty
yards in front of one of our regiments was a
spring of clear cold water. After having drunk
the vile fluid which oozes through a clay bank,
oftentimes impregnated with a very disagreeable
odor, and always having the appearance of mud
paste (being chiefly composed of that very neces
sary but not always palatable substance), the boys
were willing to run some little risk for the sake of
a draft of genuine water. One day, a sick man
asked his chum to fill his canteen. Without hesita^
tion, he promised to do so; and so, crawling up
with all due caution, he at last reached the spring.
It so happened, however, that a rebel sharpshooter

ON THE MAECH. 205
had seen him. He waited quietly till the can
teen was filled ; and then, drawing a bead on the
soldier, cried out, —
" I say, Yank 1 "
The startled Unionist at once saw his predica
ment, and began to think that his last minute had
come. He at last got voice enough to cry out, —
" Well, what do you want ? "
" Want you. Walk over this way, please."
" It was certainly a very courteous invitation,
and there seemed no way to avoid accepting it ; for
the rebel kept him covered with his rifle. He was
in an unpleasant predicament ; and, when the rebel
had enjoyed his embarrassment long enough, he
cried out, —
" I say, Yank, aren't you coming ? or shall I send
some lead after you ? "
This was a very pointed remark. Nothing was
left the poor Unionist but to obey ; and so, with
unwilling steps, he walked over to the jocose rebel,
and gave himself up.
I spent a couple of hours very pleasantly behind
a four-gun battery, which delivered its fire every
ten minutes throughout the day. Its business was
to dismount one of the enemy's pieces on the works
immediately opposite. The rebels Avorked their
gun very defiantly for a long while (for it is very
difficult to hit within a circle five feet in diameter.

296 ON THE MARCH.
a mile distant) ; but, at length, a well-directed ball
sent clouds of dust into the air, and scattered fte
gunners, who did not return during the day. Along
the entire line, such work as this Avas being done
every hour; We must have thrown many tons of
iron, which was expected to harass the enemy ra
ther than do him immediate harm. It was a long,
tedious, and dreary Avork to capture the place.
Disease at length got into the ranks, and made sad
havoc with the men. Evpry day' loads of sick
went to the hospital. Thither I followed, in my
turn, to study the character and test the skill of the
army-surgeon ; and, I must confess, I have not been
more disappointed in any body of officers. That
there are good surgeons, kind-hearted, considerate,
patriotic men, in our regiments, I will not doubt ;
I know some such : but that a large number (shall I
say a large majority?) are men who took to the army
because they could not make a living in the -coun
try town from which they came, or because, being
young, their blunders can be more easily hidden
there than anywhere else, I do most seriously aver.
"While lying on my blanket (our hospital was a
cotton-sbed, a roof only), I watched the M.D. as he
went the grand round among his. patients. His
attendant carried some quinine powders in one
hand, and a large box of blue pills in the other.
The first patient received a blue pill, the second a

ON THE MAECH. 297
quinine powder, the next a blue piU, and so on ;
the one medicine alternating with the other, until
the whple number had been prescribed fcr. The
next mprning, the first patient, whe had the day
before SAvaUowed a blue pill, received a quinine
powder ; and the next one, who had been regaled
with a quinine powder, received a blue pill ; and
so on, again, to the end of the row. As I turned
over, and groaned, wondering which of those two
diabolical medicines it would be my lot to gulp
down, I could not help wondering at the flexibility
of a surgeon's conscience ; while, at the same time,
my wonder at the mortality in the army ceased.
It was a grand day, — the glorious old Fourth of
July, — when a strange steamer came bowling
down the river, bringing the unexpected but glo
rious news of the faU of Vicksburg. When it was
announced, the whole line sent up its joy in many
a ringing hurrah and many a silent prayer. The
news reached Gen. Gardner's ears, and be at once
sent to Banks to know' if it was true. Our general
sent back a copy of the official despatch from Grant,
and that day Port Hudson changed hands. Gard
ner said, " If Vicksburg has fallen, it is of no use
for me to hold out longer." I have no doubt that
the rebel officers were dismayed ; but I have very
good authority for believing that the rank and Ble
were glad enough to end their Avar experiences
25

298 ON THE MAECH.
then and there. They were poorly clothed, having
on no uniform, — nothing but the rude, home-made
clothes of the South, — and had been for some time
on short rations. They had been deserting in large
numbers for many days, and were doubtless glad
to be freed from the conscription-act, and from
imperUling their lives for the sake of the slave
holders. On the 8th of July, the Mississippi was opened
from the Passes to Cairo, the Confederacy was cut
in two, and the rebel cause received a blow from
which it will never recover.
The dawn has come after patient waiting. When
wiU the " perfect day " come ?

THE END.

Printed "by John Wilson and Son, Boston.

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