for the true interests of nations must banish hostilities from the
world, is afforded by the coarse of France and England toward this
country since the beginning of the secession war. Both those countries
have great interest not only in the preservation of peace _with_ the
United States, but in the preservation of peace _in_ the United States;
and yet they have done all that it lies in their power to do to
encourage our rebels, and have been on the verge of war with us: and war
with them, and with Spain, is exported by many Americans, who judge of
the future by the present and the past. England had a vast trade with
the American Union, buying at the South, and selling to the North, and
hence any disturbances here were sure to operate adversely to her
interests; but no sooner had it become apparent that our troubles were
to be of a serious character, than her weight was thrown on to the side
of the rebels, who never would have been able to do much but for the
encouragement they have received from abroad. The trade of France was
not so great with America as that of England; yet it was valuable, and
the French have suffered much from its suspension, perhaps we should say
its loss. The North has purchased but little from Europe for a year, and
the South has sold less to Europe in that time. There has been a trade
in food between the North and some European countries, in which grain
has been exchanged for gold, though it would have been better for both
parties could anything else than gold have been brought to America, true
commerce consisting in the interchange of commodities. For all the
sufferings that have been experienced by Englishmen and Frenchmen, they
have none but themselves and their governments to censure. That peace
has not been preserved is not our fault; and the war that has been blown
into so fierce a flame has been fed from Europe; it has been fanned by
breezes from France and England. When it was first seen that there was
danger of civil war, the governments of those countries, if they had
really had any regard for the true interests of their countries, would
have discouraged the rebels in the most public and pointed manner
imaginable, not because they cared for us, but for the simple reason
that they were bound so to act as should best promote the welfare of
their own peoples. War in America meant suffering to the artisans and
laborers of Europe, who, thus far, have suffered more from the war than
have any portion of the American people, except the residents of
Southern cities. Napoleon III. and Lord Palmerston should have said to
the agents of the Confederacy, and have taken care to publish their
words, 'We can afford you neither aid in deeds nor encouragement in
words. Our relations with both sections of the American nation are such,
that our respective countries must suffer immensely from the course
which you are about to pursue, not because you have been oppressed, or
fear oppression, but because you have been beaten in an election, and
power, for the time, has been taken from your hands. You ask us to act
hostilely against the established government of the United States, that
government having given us no cause of offense,--to become the patrons
of a revolution that has no cause, but the consequences of which may be
boundless. To revolutions we are averse; and one of our governments
exists in virtue of opposition to the party of disorder in Europe. You
ask us to do that which would lessen the means of livelihood to millions
of our people; for, granting that you should succeed, still there would
necessarily be so great a change produced by your action, and by our
intervention in American affairs, that for years America would not be
the good customer to France and England that she has been for a
generation. With the merits of your cause we can have nothing to do, our
true interests pointing to the maintenance of the strictest neutrality
in the contest between you and the federal government; and the dictates
of interest are fortified by the suggestions of principle. Your movement
is essentially disorderly in its character, and it is undertaken
avowedly in the interest of slavery; and not only are we the supporters
of the existing order of things the world over, but we are hostile to
slavery, having abolished it in all parts of our dominions. Our advice
to you is, to submit to the federal government, and to seek for the
redress of your grievances, if such you have, by means recognized in the
constitution and laws of your country. From us you can receive no aid,
and you should dismiss all expectation of it from your minds at once and
forever. We are indifferent to the form of the American government, and
its internal policy can not concern us; but the interests of our peoples
require that we should live in peace with the people of America, whether
they be of the South or of the North, slave-holders or abolitionists;
and we shall not quarrel with any portion of them for the sake of
facilitating the erection of a republic to be founded on the basis of
the divine nature of slavery, the first time that so preposterous a
pretension was ever put forward by the audacity or the impudence of
men.' Had something like this been said to the agents of the rebels, and
had the English press supported the same views, the rebellion would have
been at an end ere this, and the commercial relations of America and
Europe would have experienced no sensible interruption. English
interests, in an especial sense, demanded that the rebels should be
discouraged, and discouragement from London would have rendered
rebellion hopeless, and have promoted peace in Savannah and New Orleans.
But it was not in England's nature to pursue a course that would have
been as much in harmony with her material interests as with that high
moral character which she claims as being peculiarly her own. There
appeared to have presented itself an opportunity to effect the
destruction of the American Republic, and England could not resist the
temptation to strike us hard: and, for almost a year, she has been to
the Union a more deadly foe than we have found in the South. We do not
allude to the _Trent_ question, for in that we were clearly in the
wrong, and Mason and Slidell should have been released on the 16th of
November, and not have been detained in captivity six weeks. Secretary
Seward has placed the point so emphatically beyond all doubt, that we
must all be of one mind thereon, whether in England or America. England
might have been moderate in her action, in view of her repeated outrages
on the rights of neutrals, but no intelligent American can condemn her
position. It is to other things that we must look for evidence of her
determination to effect our extinction as a nation. She has, while
dripping with Hindoo blood, and while yet men's ears are filled with
accounts of the blowing of sepoys from the muzzles of cannon by her
military executioners, absolutely demanded of us an acknowledgment of
the Southern Confederacy's independence, on the ground that it is
inhuman to wage war for the maintenance of our national life. She has
compared our mild and forbearing government with the savage proconsulate
of Alva in the Netherlands! She has charged us with waging war against
civilization, because we have employed stone fleets to close entrances
to the harbor of Charleston, though her own history is full of instances
of their employment for similar purposes! She has encouraged her traders
and seamen to furnish the rebels with arms of all kinds, and stores of
every description! She has excluded our ships-of-war from her ports,
refusing to allow them to coal at places at which she had granted us the
privilege, in time of peace, of establishing stations for fuel! She has
given shelter and protection to the privateers of the rebels, vessels
that had violated her own laws almost within sight of her own shores,
and certainly within the narrow seas! She has acknowledged the
belligerent character of the South, which is virtually an acknowledgment
of its independence, for none but nations can lawfully wage war. She
has, through her Minister for Foreign Affairs, declared that our war
with the secessionists is of the same character as the war which the
Spaniards carried on with their American colonists, and that there is no
difference between it and the attempt of the Turks to subdue the Greeks!
Monstrous perversions of history for even Earl Russell to be guilty of!
Her leading periodicals and journals, with few exceptions, have
denounced our country, our course, and our government in the bitterest
language, and to the manifest encouragement of the rebels, who see in
their language the rapid growth and prompt exhibition of a sentiment of
hostility to this country, and which must, sooner or later, end in war;
and war between England and America would be sure to lead to the success
of the Confederates, even if we should come out of it victoriously.
Thus we see that the attempt to establish peace on the basis of the true
interests of nations has not only failed, but that it has failed
signally and deplorably. The solid Doric Temple of Mammon has no more
been able to stand against the storms of war than has the Crystal Palace
of Sentiment. The fair fabric which was the type of materialism has
fallen, and it would be most unwise to seek its reconstruction. That
which was to have stood as long and as firmly as the Pyramids has fallen
before the first moss could gather upon it. Nor is the reason of this
fall far to seek, as it lies upon the surface, and ought to have been
anticipated--would have been, only that men are so ready to believe in
what they wish to believe. England, as a nation, has two interests to
consult, and which do not always accord. She has her commercial interest
and her imperial interest; and, when the two conflict, the last is sure
to become first. Her position as a nation was threatened only by the
United States and Russia. The dynastic disputes of France, which are far
from being at an end, and the generally unsettled character of French
politics, must long prevent that country from becoming the permanent
rival of England. France is great to-day, and England acts wisely in
preparing to meet her in war; but to-morrow France may become weak, and
her voice be feeble and her weight light in Europe and the world. Three
houses claim her throne, and the Republicans may start up into active
life again, as we saw they did in 1848. Neither Austria nor Prussia can
ever furnish England cause of alarm. With Russia the case is very
different, as her government is solidly established; her resources are
vast, and in the course of steady development, and her desire to
establish her supremacy in the East is a fixed idea with both rulers and
ruled. Unchecked, she would have thrown England into the background, and
supposing that she had resolved not to allow that country a share of the
spoil of Turkey. The hard character and harsh policy of Nicholas ended
in furnishing to England an opportunity to throw Russia herself into the
background for the time, and that opportunity she made use of, but not
to the extent that she had determined upon, owing to her dependence upon
France, which became the shield of Russia after having been the sword of
England. The United States were a formidable rival of England; and, but
for the breaking out of our troubles, we should have been far ahead of
her by 1870, and perhaps have stripped her of all her American
possessions. When those troubles began, she proceeded to take the same
advantage of them that she had taken of the Czar's blunder. To sever the
American nation in twain is her object, as some of her public men have
frankly avowed; and she believes that the disintegrating process, once
commenced, would not stop with the division of the country into the
Northern Union and the Southern Confederacy. She expects, should the
South succeed, to see half a dozen republics here established, and is
not without hope that not even two States would remain together; and for
this hope she has very good foundation. The American nation destroyed,
England would become as great in the West as she is in the East, and
would hold, with far greater means at her command, the same position
that was hers in the last days of George II., when the French had been
expelled from America and India. She would have no commercial rival, and
there would no longer be an American navy susceptible of gigantic
increase. She would be truly the sea's sovereign; and whoso rules the
sea has power to dictate to the land. 'Whosoever commands the sea,' says
Sir Walter Raleigh, 'commands the trade of the world; whosoever commands
the trade of the world, commands the riches of the world, and
consequently the world itself.' England never would have gone to war
with the _United States_ to prevent their growth; but, now that they
have instituted civil war, it is certain that she will do all that lies
in her power to prevent the reconstruction of the Union. The war of
words has been begun, and it is but preliminary to the war of swords.
The savage music of the British press is the overture to the opera. The
morality of England may be neither higher nor lower than that of all
other countries,--may be no worse than our own,--but there is so much
that is offensive in her modes of exhibiting her destitution of
principle, that she is more hated than all other powerful countries that
ever have existed. She not only sins as badly as other nations, but
manages to make herself as odious for her manner of sinning as for the
sins themselves. There is no crime that she is not capable of, if its
perpetration be necessary to promote her own power. When Sir William
Reid was governor of Malta, he said to Mr. Lushington, 'I would let them
(_i.e._ the heathen) set up Juggernaut in St. George's Square (in
Edinburgh), if it were conducive to England's holding Malta.' And as
this time-blue Presbyterian was ready to allow the solemnization of the
bloodiest rites of paganism in the most public place of the Christian
city of Edinburgh, if that kind of tolerance would be conducive to
England's retention of Malta,--of which she holds possession, by the
way, in consequence of one of the grossest breaches of faith mentioned
even in her history,--so do we find the Christian people, peers, and
priests of England ready to become the allies of slave-holders and the
supporters of slavery, if thereby the American Republic can be
destroyed, as they believe that its existence may become the source of
danger to the ascendency of their country.
The last intelligence from England allows us to believe that that
country has adopted a more liberal policy, and that her government will
do nothing to aid the rebels. Some of the language of Ministers is
friendly, and altogether the change is one of a character that can not
be otherwise than agreeable to us. France, too, has declared her
neutrality as strongly as England. These declarations were made before
intelligence of our military and naval successes had reached Europe,
which renders them all the more weighty. Peace between America and
Europe may, therefore, be counted upon, unless some very great reverses
should befall our arms.
* * * * *
AMONG THE PINES.
The 'Ole Cabin' to which Jim had alluded as the scene of Sam's
punishment by the Overseer, was a one-story shanty in the vicinity of
the stables. Though fast falling to decay, it had more the appearance of
a decent habitation than the other huts on the plantation. Its thick
plank door was ornamented with a mouldy brass knocker, and its four
windows contained sashes, to which here and there clung a broken pane,
the surviving relic of its better days. It was built of large unhewn
logs, notched at the ends and laid one upon the other, with the bark
still on. The thick, rough coat which yet adhered in patches to the
timber had opened in the sun, and let the rain and the worm burrow in
its sides, till some parts had crumbled entirely away. At one corner the
process of decay had gone on till roof, superstructure, and foundation
had rotted down and left an opening large enough to admit a coach and
four horses. The huge chimneys which had graced the gable-ends of the
building were fallen in, leaving only a mass of sticks and clay to tell
of their existence, and two wide openings to show how great a figure
they had once made in the world. A small space in front of the cabin
would have been a lawn, had the grass been willing to grow upon it; and
a few acres of cleared land in its rear might have passed for a garden,
had it not been entirely overgrown with young pines and stubble. This
primitive structure was once the 'mansion' of that broad plantation,
and, before the production of turpentine came into fashion in that
region, its rude owner drew his support from its few surrounding acres,
more truly independent than the present aristocratic proprietor, who,
raising only one article, and buying all his provisions, was forced to
draw his support from the Yankee or the Englishman.
Only one room, about forty feet square, occupied the interior of the
cabin. It once contained several apartments, vestiges of which still
remained, but the partitions had been torn away to fit it for its
present uses. What those uses were, a moment's observation showed me.
In the middle of the floor, which was mostly rotted away, a space about
fifteen feet square was covered with thick pine planking, strongly
nailed to the beams. In the centre of this planking an oaken block was
firmly bolted, and to it was fastened a strong iron staple that held a
log-chain, to which was attached a pair of shackles. Above this, was a
queer frame-work of oak, somewhat resembling the contrivance for drying
fruit I have seen in Yankee farm-houses. Attached to the rafters by
stout pieces of timber, were two hickory poles, placed horizontally, and
about four feet apart, the lower one rather more than eight feet from
the floor. This was the whipping-rack, and hanging to it were several
stout whips with short hickory handles, and long triple lashes. I took
one down for closer inspection, and found burned into the wood, in large
letters, the words 'Moral Suasion.' I questioned the appropriateness of
the label, but the Colonel insisted with great gravity that the whip is
the only 'moral suasion' a darky is capable of understanding.
When punishment is inflicted on one of the Colonel's negroes, his feet
are confined in the shackles, his arms tied above his head, and drawn by
a stout cord up to one of the horizontal poles; then, his back bared to
the waist, and standing on tip-toe, with every muscle stretched to its
utmost tension, he takes 'de lashes.'
A more severe but more unusual punishment is the 'thumb-screw.' In this
a noose is passed around the negro's thumb and fore-finger, while the
cord is thrown over the upper cross-pole, and the culprit is drawn up
till his toes barely touch the ground. In this position the whole
weight of the body rests on the thumb and fore-finger. The torture is
excruciating, and strong, able-bodied men can endure it but a few
moments. The Colonel naively told me that he had discontinued its
practice, as several of his _women_ had nearly lost the use of their
hands, and been incapacited for field labor, by its too frequent
repetition. 'My ---- drivers,'[L] he added, 'have no discretion, and no
humanity; if they have a pique against a nigger, they show him no
mercy.'
The old shanty I have described was now the place of the Overseer's
confinement. Open as it was at top, bottom, and sides, it seemed an
unsafe prison-house; but Jim had rendered its present occupant secure by
placing 'de padlocks on him.'
'Where did you catch him?' asked the Colonel of Jim, as, followed by
every darky on the plantation, we took our way to the old building.
'In de swamp, massa. We got Sandy and de dogs arter him--dey treed him,
but he fit like de debil.'
'Any one hurt?'
'Yas, Cunnel; he knifed Yaller Jake, and ef I hadn't a gibin him a
wiper, you'd a had anudder nigger short dis mornin'--shore.'
'How was it? tell me,' said his master, while we paused, and the darkies
gathered around.
'Wal, yer see, massa, we got de ole debil's hat dat he drapped wen you
had him down; den we went to Sandy's fur de dogs--dey scented him to
onst, and off dey put for de swamp. 'Bout twenty on us follored 'em.
He'd a right smart start on us, and run like a deer, but de hounds
kotched up wid him 'bout whar he shot pore Sam. He fit 'em and cut up de
Lady awful, but ole Caesar got a hole ob him, and sliced a breakfuss out
ob his legs. Somehow, dough, he got away from de ole dog, and clum a
tree. 'T was more'n an hour afore we kotched up; but dar he war, and de
houns baying 'way as ef dey know'd wat an ole debil he am. I'd tuk one
ob de guns--you warn't in de hous, massa, so I cudn't ax you.'
'Never mind that; go on,' said the Colonel.
'Wal, I up wid de gun, and tole him ef he didn't cum down I'd gib him
suffin' dat 'ud sot hard on de stummuk. It tuk him a long w'ile, but--he
_cum down_.' Here the darky showed a row of ivory that would have been a
fair capital for a metropolitan dentist.
'Wen he war down,' he resumed, 'Jake war gwine to tie him, but de ole
'gator, quicker dan a flash, put a knife enter him.'
'Is Jake much hurt?' interrupted the Colonel.
'Not bad, massa; de knife went fru his arm, and enter his ribs, but de
ma'am hab fix him up, and she say he'll be 'round bery sudden.'
'Well, what then?' inquired the Colonel.
'Wen de ole debil seed he hadn't finished Jake, he war gwine to gib him
anoder dig, but jus den I drap de gun on his cocoa-nut, and he neber
trubble us no more. 'Twar mons'rous hard work to git him out ob de
swamp, 'cause he war jes like a dead man, and we had to tote him de hull
way; but he'm dar now, massa (pointing to the old cabin), and de
bracelets am on him.'
'Where is Jake?' asked the Colonel.
'Dunno, massa, but reckon he'm to hum.'
'One of you boys go and bring him to the cabin,' said the Colonel.
A negro-man went off on the errand, while we and the darkies resumed our
way to the Overseer's quarters. Arrived there, I witnessed a scene that
words can not picture.
Stretched at full length on the floor, his clothes torn to shreds, his
coarse carroty hair matted with blood, and his thin, ugly visage pale as
death, lay the Overseer. Bending over him, wiping away the blood from
his face, and swathing a ghastly wound on his forehead, was the negress
Sue; while at his shackled feet, binding up his still bleeding legs,
knelt the octoroon woman.
'Is _she_ here?' I said, involuntarily, as I caught sight of the group.
'It's her nature,' said the Colonel, with a pleasant smile; 'if Moye
were the devil himself, she'd do him good if she could; another such
woman never lived.'
And yet this woman, with all the instincts that make her sex
angel-ministers to man, lived in daily violation of the most sacred of
all laws,--because she was a slave. Will Mr. Caleb Cushing or Charles
O'Conner please tell us why the Almighty invented a system which forces
his creatures to break the laws of His own making?
'Don't waste your time on him, Alice,' said the Colonel, kindly; 'he
isn't worth the rope that'll hang him.'
'He was bleeding to death; he must have care or he'll die,' said the
octoroon woman.
'Then let him die, d---- him,' replied the Colonel, advancing to where
the Overseer lay, and bending down to satisfy himself of his condition.
Meanwhile more than two hundred dusky forms crowded around and filled
every opening of the old building. Every conceivable emotion, except
pity, was depicted on their dark faces. The same individuals whose
cloudy visages a half-hour before I had seen distended with a wild mirth
and careless jollity, that made me think them really the docile,
good-natured animals they are said to be, now glared on the prostrate
Overseer with the infuriated rage of aroused beasts when springing on
their prey.
'You can't come the possum here. Get up, you ---- hound,' said the
Colonel, rising and striking the bleeding man with his foot.
The fellow raised himself on one elbow and gazed around with a stupid,
vacant look. His eye wandered unsteadily for a moment from the Colonel
to the throng of cloudy faces in the doorway; then, his recent
experience flashing upon him, he shrieked out, clinging wildly to the
skirts of the octoroon woman, who was standing near, 'Keep off them
cursed hounds,--keep them off, I say--they'll kill me!--they'll kill
me!'
One glance satisfied me that his mind was wandering. The blow on the
head had shattered his reason, and made the strong man less than a
child.