_July 3._ We were all standing at the back door when a small crowd
became visible at the first gate. We watched to discover what it
meant, as it was an unmistakable "gang" drawing nearer. 'Siah's boy
had come over from the Point to tell C. that some white soldiers were
there from the village stealing corn, etc., after the manner of the
soldiers in this region, but so far our plantations have been very
free from such depredations C. had just told Tony that he did not feel
well enough to go over, and that the men would be gone before he could
get there--and turning to Mr. Soule he said that those Point men were
just the men to catch white soldiers, if they could do it, and he
should not be surprised if they did. The words were hardly out of his
mouth before the "gang" appeared, so you may imagine we watched it
with great curiosity as it drew near. On they came, a compact body of
people, among whom we tried to discover some white faces. Presently
the gleaming of muskets was distinctly visible, and as one of the men
stepped forward and threw the gate wide open for the company to pass
through, three white soldiers appeared in the front ranks. They were
all perfectly quiet, not a word was said; and as C. ran down the steps
to receive them and they came to a halt, the men brought the muskets
to the ground and the women emptied their aprons of corn-shucks at his
feet, waiting quietly for him to do what he thought right. I did not
hear one loud or angry tone while I stood listening as C. heard their
story and then questioned the soldiers. They were perfectly quiet,
too,--young fellows from the One Hundred and Fourth Pennsylvania
Volunteers, a new regiment,--and they evidently thought that C. was a
person of authority or the blacks would not have marched them three
miles to him. He took from them their dirks and pistols, and the
musket which one of them had, and they made no resistance--nor did
they say a word when he called to me for "three pair of hand-cuffs"
(all he brought down), and asked the three men from the Point who had
guns, if they would stay and guard them all night. It was rather a
troublesome elephant and he did not quite know what to do with it now
it was in his possession. It was a good chance to do something if he
would be sustained, but General Saxton has not conferred any
magisterial powers[138] on the superintendents yet, and if he
undertook too much and was not sustained, it would be worse than
nothing. At any rate, he would have to take them to the village in the
morning, so he decided to do so that night, and went off with his
prisoners and their guard, driving his light sulky, and carrying the
light arms, one of the men taking the musket again. He did not use the
hand-cuffs.
It was strange to see how very quiet and apparently unexcited the
people were. After the first few minutes they came up to me to buy,
and then all went off when C. did, as quickly as possible.
_July 5._ When two buckra were reported as approaching while we were
at breakfast it turned out to be two men from the village picket with
a note from the Lieutenant to C. I did not find out the sequel to the
story the other night, but it seems that C. and William crossed the
creek with the soldiers, only taking two men to row. The blacks
certainly behaved extremely well, and Moll told the men they might
have the corn, which of course they refused to take. And as they went
into the boat a boy put in the watermelon they had taken, saying,
"B'longs to you, sah," but the man sent it ashore. The coals were
rather hot, I guess, and the men were heartily ashamed of themselves
and thoroughly penitent. C. went with them to the mess-room and saw
the sergeant, who expressed great regret and said it was the first
time any of their men had been guilty of such acts. The Lieutenant was
away, and as C. drew paper towards him to report the case in writing,
they looked very blank and begged him not to report. After some
consideration he concluded not to report them, as he could not see the
Lieutenant and they had behaved so well about it, and told them he
would not unless some further acts of the kind were perpetrated by
their men. They were very grateful, but C. did not feel sure that the
Lieutenant would not hear of it. And so he did, in some way;
investigated the affair and sent the men to Beaufort to be punished by
the Commander of the post, who is now not General Saxton but, as it
happens, is their own Colonel,[139] who is not likely to be lenient
towards them. The Lieutenant sent a note to this effect to C. this
morning, and also wished to know what would repay the negroes for the
damage done. (The soldiers had already promised to make it good to
them, and were to have been paid off yesterday, but their pay was
stopped in consequence of this very occurrence.) So the whole affair
has ended very satisfactorily. I am sorry for the poor fellows, for
they will probably suffer not so much for what they actually did
themselves, but to serve as an example to all other offenders.
_July 7._ Mr. Wells was to come at nine o'clock to the wharf to take
Mr. Soule[140] to Morgan Island, one of his plantations. Mr. Wells
appeared at the door to say that he had a large sail-boat--it was only
a half-hour's sail to the island, and would not I go too. So I put up
a little lunch and C. had his horse saddled and down to the wharf we
went, and were soon at our destination. The only white-house on the
island now occupied is on quite a bluff looking directly out to sea,
pleasantly shaded, with a fresh breeze all the time up the Sound, and
is a very healthy situation. But the house is of the roughest
description, without paint inside or out, very much like a New
Hampshire farmhouse in the back-woods a quarter of a century ago, but
not so large, clean, or thrifty-looking, by any means. Here we stopped
to see an old man who was brought from Africa when he was over twenty,
and remembers his life in his own country, from which he was sold by
his brother to pay a debt. Mr. Soule said he was bright and talkative
when he last saw him, but now he is very much broken; and after
sitting a few minutes we went on to the driver's house, a great
contrast in neatness, and the gentleman left me in a rocking-chair
under the shade of the large Asia-berry tree in front of the house,
while they went off with Bacchus, the foreman, to see the
cotton-fields. Here I stayed for a couple of hours, I should think,
talking with Elsie, Bacchus' wife, who was not in the field because
she had a headache, and very neat and nice she looked in her calico
gown. She has no children, but made up for the want as far as she
could by the number of chickens and ducks she had round. By and bye
she got up, and picking up a piece of brick, pounded it up with an
axe, and began to clean a large knife, which I knew meant watermelon.
And when the gentlemen came back, Bacchus brought out a small table
and put a melon on it which was almost large enough for a tablecloth;
then he produced plates, and Mr. Wells carved the huge monster, which
we nearly devoured. The air and grace with which one of the men, who
came up to clear off the table for Mr. Wells to pay the people,
touched his hat with a bow and a scrape would not have misbecome a
Commencement Dinner or Wedding Party.
The keen interest which these Northern interlopers took in
everything that concerned the people into whose shoes they
had stepped, and their constant sense of the strangeness and
romance of their situation appear in the extracts that
follow. Again the chronology of the letters has been
somewhat disregarded.