VISITED BY GUERRILLAS.
News of the Raid.--Returning to the Plantation.--Examples of Negro
Cunning.--A Sudden Departure and a Fortunate Escape.--A Second
Visit.--"Going Through," in Guerrilla Parlance.--How it is
Accomplished.--Courtesy to Guests.--A Holiday Costume.--Lessees
Abandoning their Plantations.--Official Promises.
As soon as satisfied we were not followed we took a leisurely pace,
and in due time reached Natchez. Four hours later we received the
first bulletin from the plantation. About thirty guerrillas had been
there, mainly for the purpose of despoiling the plantation next above
ours. This they had accomplished by driving off all the mules. They
had not stolen _our_ mules, simply because they found as much cloth
and other desirable property as they wished to take on that occasion.
Besides, our neighbor's mules made as large a drove as they could
manage. They promised to come again, and we believed they would keep
their word. We ascertained that my strategy with the whisky saved us
from pursuit.
On the next day a messenger arrived, saying all was quiet at the
plantation. On the second day, as every thing continued undisturbed,
I concluded to return. Colburn had gone to Vicksburg, and left me
to look after our affairs as I thought best. We had discussed the
propriety of hiring a white overseer to stay on the plantation during
our absence. The prospect of visits from guerrillas convinced us
that _we_ should not spend much of our time within their reach. We
preferred paying some one to risk his life rather than to risk our
own lives. The prospect of getting through the season without serious
interruption had become very poor, but we desired to cling to the
experiment a little longer. Once having undertaken it, we were
determined not to give it up hastily.
I engaged a white man as overseer, and took him with me to the
plantation. The negroes had been temporarily alarmed at the visit
of the guerrillas, but, as they were not personally disturbed, their
excitement was soon allayed. I found them anxiously waiting my return,
and ready to recommence labor on the following day.
The ravages of the guerrillas on that occasion were not extensive.
They carried off a few bolts of cloth and some smaller articles, after
drinking the whisky I had set out for their entertainment. The negroes
had carefully concealed the balance of the goods in places where a
white man would have much trouble in finding them. In the garden there
was a row of bee-hives, whose occupants manifested much dislike for
all white men, irrespective of their political sentiments. Two unused
hives were filled with the most valuable articles on our invoice, and
placed at the ends of this row. In a clump of weeds under the bench on
which the hives stood, the negroes secreted several rolls of cloth
and a quantity of shoes. More shoes and more cloth were concealed in
a hen-house, under a series of nests where several innocent hens were
"sitting." Crockery was placed among the rose-bushes and tomato-vines
in the garden; barrels of sugar were piled with empty barrels of
great age; and two barrels of molasses had been neatly buried in a
freshly-ploughed potato-field. Obscure corners in stables and sheds
were turned into hiding-places, and the cunning of the negro was well
evinced by the successful concealment of many bulky articles.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when I arrived at the
plantation. I immediately recommenced the issue of goods, which was
suspended so hastily three days before. From two o'clock until dark
the overseer and myself were busily engaged, and distributed about
two-thirds of our remaining stock. Night came. We suspended the
distribution and indulged in supper. After giving the overseer
directions for the morrow, I recollected an invitation to spend the
night at the house of a friend, three miles away, on the road to
Natchez.
I ordered my horse, and in a few moments the animal was ready, at the
door. I told the overseer where I was going, and bade him good-night.
"Where are you going, Mr. K----?" said the negro who had brought out
the horse, as he delivered the bridle into my hands.
"If any one calls to see me," said I, "you can say I have gone to
Natchez."
With that I touched a spur to my horse and darted off rapidly toward
my friend's house. A half-dozen negroes had gathered to assist in
saddling and holding the horse. As I sprang into the saddle I heard
one of them say:
"I don't see why Mr. K---- starts off to Natchez at this time of
night."
Another negro explained the matter, but I did not hear the
explanation. If he gave a satisfactory reason, I think he did better
than I could have done.
Immediately after my departure the overseer went to bed. He had been
in bed about fifteen minutes when he heard a trampling of horses' feet
around the house. A moment later there was a loud call for the door to
be opened. Before the overseer could comply with the request, the door
was broken in. A dozen men crowded into the house, demanding that a
light be struck instantly. As the match gave its first flash of light,
one of the visitors said:
"Well, K----, we've got you this time."
"That," said another, "is no K----; that is Walter Owen, who used to
be overseer on Stewart's plantation."
"What are you doing here?" demanded another.
Mr. Owen, trembling in his night-clothes, replied that he had been
engaged to stay there as overseer.
"Where is K----, and where is Colburn?"
"Mr. Colburn hasn't been here since last Monday. Mr. K---- has gone to
Natchez."
"That's a ---- lie," said one of the guerrillas. "We know he came here
at two o'clock this afternoon, and was here at dark. He is somewhere
around this house."
In vain did Owen protest I was not there. Every room and every
closet in the house was searched. A pile of bagging in a garret was
overhauled, in the expectation that I was concealed within it. Even
the chimneys were not neglected, though I doubt if the smallest of
professional sweeps could pass through them. One of the guerrillas
opened a piano, to see if I had not taken refuge under its cover. They
looked into all possible and impossible nooks and corners, in the
hope of finding me somewhere. At last they gave up the search, and
contented themselves with promising to catch both Colburn and myself
before long.
"We want to go through those d--d Abolitionists, and we will do it,
too. They may dodge us for a while, but we will have them by-and-by."
Not being privileged to "go through" me as they had anticipated, the
gentlemanly guerrillas went through the overseer. They took his money,
his hat, his pantaloons, and his saddle. His horse was standing in
the stable, and they took that also. They found four of our mules, and
appropriated them to their own use. They frightened one of the negroes
into telling where certain articles were concealed, and were thus
enabled to carry off a goodly amount of plunder. They threatened Mr.
Owen with the severest punishment, if he remained any longer on the
plantation. They possessed themselves of a "protection" paper which
Mrs. B. had received from the commander at Natchez several months
before, and were half inclined to burn her buildings as a punishment
for having sought the favor of the Yankees. Their stay was of only an
hour's duration.
From our plantation the robbers went to the one next above, where they
were more fortunate in finding the lessees at home. They surrounded
the house in the same manner they had surrounded ours, and then burst
open the doors. The lessees were plundered of every thing in the shape
of money, watches, and knives, and were forced to exchange hats
and coats with their captors. One of the guerrillas observed an
ivory-headed pencil, which he appropriated to his own use, with the
remark:
"They don't make these things back here in the woods. When they do, I
will send this one back."
These lessees were entertaining some friends on that evening, and
begged the guerrillas to show them some distinction.
"D--n your friends," said the guerrilla leader; "I suppose they are
Yankees?"
"Yes, they are; we should claim friendship with nobody else."
"Then we want to see what they have, and go through them if it is
worth the while."
The strangers were unceremoniously searched. Their united
contributions to the guerrilla treasury were two watches, two
revolvers, three hundred dollars in money, and their hats and
overcoats. Their horses and saddles were also taken. In consideration
of their being guests of the house, these gentlemen were allowed to
retain their coats. They were presented with five dollars each, to pay
their expenses to Natchez. No such courtesy was shown to the lessees
of the plantation.
On the following morning, I was awakened at an early hour by the
arrival of a negro from our plantation, with news of the raid. A
little later, Mr. Owen made his appearance, wearing pantaloons and hat
that belonged to one of the negroes. The pantaloons were too small and
the hat too large; both had long before seen their best days. He was
riding a mule, on which was tied an old saddle, whose cohesive powers
were very doubtful. I listened to the story of the raid, and was
convinced another visit would be made very soon. I gave directions
for the overseer to gather all the remaining mules and take them to
Natchez for safety.
I stopped with my friend until nearly noon, and then accompanied
him to Natchez. On the next morning, I learned that the guerrillas
returned to our plantation while I was at my friend's house. They
carried away what they were unable to take on the previous night They
needed a wagon for purposes of transportation, and took one of ours,
and with it all the mules they could find. Our house was stripped of
every thing of any value, and I hoped the guerrillas would have no
occasion to make subsequent visits. Several of our mules were saved by
running them into the woods adjoining the plantation. These were taken
to Natchez, and, for a time, all work on the prospective cotton crop
came to an end.
For nearly three weeks, the guerrillas had full and free range in the
vicinity of the leased plantations. One after another of the lessees
were driven to seek refuge at Natchez, and their work was entirely
suspended. The only plantations undisturbed were those within a
mile or two of Vidalia. As the son of Adjutant-General Thomas was
interested in one of these plantations, and intimate friends of that
official were concerned in others, it was proper that they should
be well protected. The troops at Vidalia were kept constantly on the
look-out to prevent raids on these favored localities.
Nearly every day I heard of a fresh raid in our neighborhood,
though, after the first half-dozen visits, I could not learn that the
guerrillas carried away any thing, for the simple reason there was
nothing left to steal. Some of the negroes remained at home, while
others fled to the military posts for protection. The robbers showed
no disposition to maltreat the negroes, and repeatedly assured
them they should not be disturbed as long as they remained on the
plantations and planted nothing but corn. It was declared that cotton
should not be cultivated under any circumstances, and the negroes were
threatened with the severest punishment if they assisted in planting
that article.