_Feb. 3, 1866._ I am a _gentleman of leisure_ and, like most every one
else here, am living on the interest of what I have lost. I am no
longer a member of the noted firm of N., R., and W. We dissolved
January 1, and N. and W. continue the business at the old stand. I
decided that there was not salt enough for three certainly. There is
no money here to speak of, and what there is will go to Beaufort where
there is liquor sold or given away. I have also given up
cotton-planting; it is not a very lucrative business when it brings
only sixty-six cents.
I made arrangements with Mr. Pope to still occupy this half of the
house free of rent until August, if I wished, and was calculating on
having a rich time seeing a native plant cotton with these island
negroes, but alas, my hopes are all blighted, for every blessed soul
but one man and his wife has moved away and will not work for him; so
he has decided not to move here until after we are gone. He has sent
one man here who was an old servant and has been with him all the
time, and he is very industrious, works from morn until night; it is
quite refreshing to see him. Pope was the only one of the natives who
bid off places at auction[200] that came to time in paying up; so the
places were put up again and bought by Northern men.
The present planters are in a dubious frame of mind these days over
the prospect for another year, for it is very hard to bring wages
down, and one cannot get his money back at the present price of
cotton, so most of them will work on shares;[201] but that is a sure
way of running a place all out, for the people will not manure it
sufficiently to keep it up. Mr. Eustis is always good-natured, and is
about the only man here who is not utterly demoralized on the negro
question.