They have not yet got any diseased appetite for alcoholic stimulants,
and are happy in their comparative ignorance of such things.
They are a simple, childlike people, almost ignorant of malice,
patient and easily influenced by an appeal to their feelings. There is
far less family feeling and attachment to each other than among the
ignorant Irish, apparently, though I don't know how much allowance to
make for their being so much less demonstrative in their emotions, and
more inured to suffering. They are most eminently a religious people,
according to their light, and always refer their sufferings to Divine
Providence, though without the stoical or fatalist ideas of their
Mohammedan brethren, whom I got to know pretty well in Nubia and
Egypt.
We find it very difficult to reach any motive that will promote
cleanliness as a habit. It requires more authority than our position
gives us as employers to make any police regulations very effectual in
their quarters. This plantation is the neatest one I have seen
anywhere in respect to their houses and yards, but there is room for
great improvement here. They have the same dread of fresh air in
sickness which is common to poor people at home, but there is very
little sickness among them. Only one death has occurred since we came
here, among a population of 420, and that was an infant. They place
great trust in our doctors and keep them pretty busy jogging about.
The next letter, the first from H. W., records her arrival
with Mrs. Philbrick.
_Beaufort, April 15._ The sail up was very beautiful, the green beyond
description brilliant, and now and then the deeper shade of palmetto
or live-oak. Some of the plantations were very picturesque. Roses and
azaleas were plainly visible. An hour and a half, very quickly passed,
brought us to the wharf, where Mr. Pierce and Mr. Hooper met us with
the information that we were to go to Mr. Forbes's, whither we walked
a long half-mile, a sentry at the street-corners, darkies bowing in
every direction, birds and the scent of flowers filling the air,
everything like a June day after a shower. Mr. Philbrick hopes to be
ready for us on Saturday. A cotton-agent in his house prevents us from
going just yet to the Coffin house, but we shall be established for
the present on one of the smaller plantations adjoining.
The letter that follows, written at Pine Grove several days
later, narrates the events of these days, beginning with
April 16, in Beaufort.