National diversities of character--Diversities of language--
Provincialisms--A plantation and negroes--Natchez bar--A
youthful judge--Physicians--Clergymen--Merchants, &c. &c.--A
southern mania--"Washing"--Tobacco--Value of cotton planting
and statistics--An easy "way to wealth."
There are many causes, both moral and physical, which concur to render
the inhabitants of the south dissimilar to those of the north. Some of
these may be traced to climate, more to education and local relations,
and yet more to that peculiar state of things which necessarily prevails
in a planting country and all newly organized states. The difference is
clearly distinguishable through all its grades and ramifications, and so
strongly marked as to stamp the southern character with traits
sufficiently distinctive to be dignified with the term national.
A plantation well stocked with hands, is the _ne plus ultra_ of every
man's ambition who resides at the south. Young men who come to this
country, "to make money," soon catch the mania, and nothing less than a
broad plantation, waving with the snow white cotton bolls, can fill
their mental vision, as they anticipate by a few years in their dreams
of the future, the result of their plans and labours. Hence, the great
number of planters and the few professional men of long or eminent
standing in their several professions. In such a state of things no men
grow old or gray in their profession if at all successful. As soon as
the young lawyer acquires sufficient to purchase a few hundred acres of
the rich alluvial lands, and a few slaves, he quits his profession at
once, though perhaps just rising into eminence, and turns cotton
planter. The bar at Natchez is composed, with but few exceptions,
entirely of young men. Ten years hence, probably not four out of five of
these, if living, will remain in their profession. To the prevalence of
this custom of retiring so early from the bar, and not to want of
talent, is to be attributed its deficiency of distinguished names. There
is much talent now concentrated at this bar, and throughout the state.
But its possessors are young men; and this mania for planting will soon
deprive the state of any benefit from it in a professional point of
view. As the lawyers are young, the judges cannot of course be much
stricken in years. The northerner, naturally associates with the title
of "Judge," a venerable, dignified personage, with locks of snow, a suit
of sober black, and powdered queue, shoe-buckles, and black silk
stockings. Judge my surprise at hearing at the public table a few days
since, a young gentleman, apparently not more than four or five and
twenty, addressed as "judge!" I at first thought it applied as a mere
"_soubriquet_," till subsequently assured that he was really on the
bench.
Physicians make money much more rapidly than lawyers, and sooner retire
from practice and assume the planter. They, however, retain their
titles, so that medico-planters are now numerous, far out-numbering the
regular practitioners, who have not yet climbed high enough up the wall
to leap down into a cotton field on the other side. Ministers, who
constitute the third item of the diplomaed triad, are not free from the
universal mania, and as writing sermons is not coining money, the
plantations are like the vocative in Latin pronouns. They, however, by
observing the command in Gen. ix. 1, contrive ultimately to reach the
same goal. The merchant moves onward floundering through invoices,
ledgers, packages, and boxes. The gin-wright and overseer, also have an
eye upon this Ultima Thule, while the more wealthy mechanics begin to
form visions of cotton fields, and talk knowingly upon the "staple."
Even editors have an eye that way!
Cotton and negroes are the constant theme--the ever harped upon, never
worn out subject of conversation among all classes. But a small portion
of the broad rich lands of this thriving state is yet appropriated. Not
till every acre is purchased and cultivated--not till Mississippi
becomes one vast cotton field, will this mania, which has entered into
the very marrow, bone and sinew of a Mississippian's system, pass away.
And not then, till the lands become exhausted and wholly unfit for
farther cultivation. The rich loam which forms the upland soil of this
state is of a very slight depth--and after a few years is worn away by
constant culture and the action of the winds and rain. The fields are
then "thrown out" as useless. Every plough-furrow becomes the bed of a
rivulet after heavy rains--these uniting are increased into torrents,
before which the impalpable soil dissolves like ice under a summer's
sun. By degrees, acre after acre, of what was a few years previous
beautifully undulating ground, waving with the dark green, snow-crested
cotton, presents a wild scene of frightful precipices, and yawning
chasms, which are increased in depth and destructively enlarged after
every rain. There are many thousand acres within twenty miles of the
city of Natchez, being the earliest cultivated portions of the country,
which are now lying in this condition, presenting an appearance of wild
desolation, and not unfrequently, of sublimity. This peculiar feature of
the country intrudes itself into every rural prospect, painfully marring
the loveliest country that ever came from the hand of nature. Natchez
itself is nearly isolated by a deep ravine, which forms a natural moat
around the town. It has been formed by "washing," and though serpentine
and irregular in its depth, it is cut with the accuracy of a canal. It
is spanned by bridges along the several roads that issue from the town.
From the loose and friable nature of this soil, which renders it so
liable to "wash," as is the expressive technical term here, the
south-west portion of this state must within a century become waste,
barren, and wild, unless peradventure, some inventing Yankee, or other
patentee may devise a way of remedying the evil and making the
wilderness to "blossom like the rose." A thick bluish green grass,
termed Bermuda grass, is used with great success to check the progress
of a _wash_ when it has first commenced.[3] It is very tenacious of the
soil, takes firm and wide root, grows and spreads rapidly, and soon
forms a compact matted surface, which effectually checks any farther
increase of the ravines, or "bayous," as these deep chasms are usually
termed; though bayou in its original signification is applied to creeks,
and deep glens, with or without running water.
When this state was first settled, tobacco was exclusively cultivated as
the grand staple. But this plant was found to be a great exhauster of
the soil; cotton rapidly superseded its culture, and it was shortly
banished from the state, and found a home in Tennessee, where it is at
present extensively cultivated. It has not for many years been
cultivated here. Planters have no room for any thing but their cotton,
and corn, on their plantations, and scarcely are they willing to make
room even for the latter, as they buy a great part of their corn,
annually, from the Kentucky and Indiana flat boats at the "Landing."
Among northerners, southern planters are reputed wealthy. This idea is
not far from correct--as a class they are so; perhaps more so than any
other body of men in America. Like our Yankee farmers they are tillers
of the soil. "But why" you may ask, "do they who are engaged in the same
pursuits as the New-England farmer, so infinitely surpass him in the
reward of his labours?" The northern farmer cannot at the most make more
than three per cent. on his farm. He labours himself, or pays for
labour. He _must_ do the first or he cannot live. If he does the latter,
he can make nothing. If by hard labour and frugal economy, the common
independent Yankee farmer, such as the traveller meets with any where in
New-England, lays up annually from four to seven hundred dollars, he is
a thriving man and "getting rich." His daughters are attractive, and his
sons will have something "handsome" to begin the world with. But the
southern farmer can make from fifteen to thirty per cent. by his farm.
He works on his plantation a certain number of slaves, say thirty, which
are to him what the sinewy arms of the Yankee farmer are to himself.
Each slave ought to average from seven to eight bales of cotton during
the season, especially on the new lands. An acre will generally average
from one to two bales. Each bale averages four hundred pounds, at from
twelve to fifteen cents a pound. This may not be an exact estimate, but
it is not far from the true one. Deducting two thousand and five hundred
dollars for the expenses of the plantation, there will remain the net
income of eleven thousand dollars. Now suppose this plantation and
slaves to have been purchased on a credit, paying at the rate of six
hundred dollars apiece for his negroes, the planter would be able to pay
for nearly two-thirds of them the first year. The second year, he would
pay for the remainder, and purchase ten or twelve more; and the third
year, if he had obtained his plantation on a credit of that length of
time, he would pay for that also, and commence his fourth year with a
valuable plantation, and thirty-five or forty slaves, all his own
property, with an increased income for the ensuing year of some
thousands of dollars. Henceforward, if prudent, he will rank as an
opulent planter. Success is not however always in proportion to the
outlay or expectations of the aspirant for wealth. It is modified and
varied by the wear and tear, sickness and death, fluctuations of the
market, and many other ills to which all who adventure in the great
lottery of life are heirs. In the way above alluded to, numerous
plantations in this state have been commenced, and thus the wealth of a
great number of the opulent planters of this region has originated.
Incomes of twenty thousand dollars are common here. Several individuals
possess incomes of from forty to fifty thousand dollars, and live in a
style commensurate with their wealth. The amount is generally expressed
by the number of their negroes, and the number of "bales" they make at a
crop. To know the number of either is to know accurately their incomes.
And as this is easily ascertained, it is not difficult to form a prompt
estimate of individual wealth.
To sell cotton in order to buy negroes--to make more cotton to buy more
negroes, "ad infinitum," is the aim and direct tendency of all the
operations of the thorough-going cotton planter; his whole soul is
wrapped up in the pursuit. It is, apparently, the principle by which he
"lives, moves, and has his being." There are some who "work" three and
four hundred negroes, though the average number is from thirty to one
hundred. "This is all very fine," you say, "but the slaves!--there's the
rub." True; but without slaves there could be no planters, for whites
will not and cannot work cotton plantations, beneath a broiling southern
sun.--Without planters there could be no cotton; without cotton no
wealth. Without them Mississippi would be a wilderness, and revert to
the aboriginal possessors. Annihilate them to-morrow, and this state and
every southern state might be bought for a song. I am not advocating
this system; but destroy it--and the southern states become at once
comparative ciphers in the Union. Northerners, particularly Yankees, are
at first a little compunctious on the subject of holding slaves. They
soon, however, illustrate the truth contained in the following lines,
but slightly changed from their original application. With half-averted
eyes they at first view slavery as
"A monster of such horrid mien,
That to be hated needs but to be seen:
But seen too oft, familiar with her face,
They soon endure--and in the end embrace."
Many of the planters are northerners. When they have conquered their
prejudices, they become thorough, driving planters, generally giving
themselves up to the pursuit more devotedly than the regular-bred
planter. Their treatment of their slaves is also far more rigid.
Northerners are entirely unaccustomed to their habits, which are
perfectly understood and appreciated by southerners, who have been
familiar with Africans from childhood; whom they have had for their
nurses, play-fellows, and "bearers," and between whom and themselves a
reciprocal and very natural attachment exists, which, on the gentleman's
part, involuntarily extends to the whole dingy race, exhibited in a
kindly feeling and condescending familiarity, for which he receives
gratitude in return. On the part of the slave, this attachment is
manifested by an affection and faithfulness which only cease with life.
Of this state of feeling, which a southern life and education can only
give, the northerner knows nothing. Inexperience leads him to hold the
reins of government over his novel subjects with an unsparing severity,
which the native ruler of these domestic colonies finds wholly
unnecessary. The slave always prefers a southern master, because he
knows that he will be understood by him. His kindly feelings toward, and
sympathies with slaves, as such, are as honourable to his heart as
gratifying to the subjects of them. He treats with suitable allowance
those peculiarities of their race, which the unpractised northerner will
construe into idleness, obstinacy, laziness, revenge, or hatred. There
is another cause for their difference of treatment to their slaves. The
southerner, habituated to their presence, never fears them, and laughs
at the idea. It is the reverse with the northerner: he fears them, and
hopes to intimidate them by severity.
The system of credit in this country is peculiar. From new-year's to
new-year's is the customary extension of this accommodation, and the
first of January, as planters have then usually disposed of their crops,
is a season for a general settlement throughout every branch of
business. The planters have their commission merchants in New-Orleans
and Natchez, who receive and ship their cotton for them, and make
advances, if required, upon succeeding crops. Some planters export
direct to Liverpool and other ports, though generally they sell or
consign to the commission merchants in Natchez, who turn cotton into
gold so readily, that one verily would be inclined to think that the
philosopher's stone might be concealed within the bales. A planter
often commences with nothing, or merely an endorser--buys land and
negroes, and, in the strong phraseology of Crockett, "goes ahead." In a
few years he becomes opulent. Others, however, (as was the case with the
old settlers especially) and young men at the present time, with little
means, commence with a piece of wild land, and five or six, or perhaps
not more than two negroes--and go on strengthening and increasing,
adding acre to acre, negro to negro, bale to bale, till wealth crowns
their labours. Many of the oldest and wealthiest planters began in this
manner, when they had to dispute possession of the soil with the
Spaniard, the wild beast of the forest, or wilder Indian. They are now
reaping the rewards of their youthful toil, in the possession of sons
and daughters, lands and influence, and all the luxuries and enjoyments
which wealth commands. Their sons, more fortunate in their youth than
their sires, receive, from the paternal bounty, plantations and negroes,
and at once, without previous toil or care, assume the condition of the
refined and luxurious planter. So you perceive that a Yankee farmer and
a southern planter are birds of a very different feather.[4] Now in this
sad, idolatrous world, where Mammon is worshipped on millions of altars,
the swelling hills and noble forests of the south must certainly be
"where men ought to worship." If the satirical maxim, "man was made to
make money," is true, of which there can be no question--the mint of his
operations lies most temptingly between the "Father of waters" and the
arrowy Pearl. And men seem to feel the truth of it--or of the maxim of
Bacon, that "territory newly acquired and not settled, is a matter of
burthen rather than of strength;" for they are spreading over it like a
cloud, and occupying the vast tracts called "the Purchase," recently
obtained from the Indians, previous to their removal to the west. The
tide of emigration is rapidly setting to the north and east portions of
the state. Planters, who have exhausted their old lands in this
vicinity, are settling and removing to these new lands, which will soon
become the richest cotton growing part of Mississippi. Parents do not
now think of settling their children on plantations near Natchez, but
purchase for them in the upper part of the state. Small towns, with
"mighty names," plucked from the ruins of some long since mouldered city
of classic fame and memory, are springing up here and there, like
mushrooms, amidst the affrighted forests. Sixteen new counties have
lately been created in this portion of the state, where so recently the
Indian tracked his game and shrieked his war-whoop; and as an
agricultural state, the strength and sinew of Mississippi must be
hereafter concentrated in this fresher and younger portion of her
territory.