Up the Mississippi--Free negroes and English policy--Monotony
of the river scenery--Visit to M. Roman--Slave quarters--A
slave-dance--Slave-children--Negro hospital--General
opinion--Confidence in Jefferson Davis.
_June 2nd._--My good friend the Consul was up early to see me off;
and we drove together to the steamer J. L. Cotten. The people were
going to mass as we passed through the streets; and it was pitiable
to see the children dressed out as Zouaves, with tin swords and all
sorts of pseudo-military tomfoolery; streets crowded with military
companies; bands playing on all sides.
Before we left the door a poor black sailor came up to entreat Mr.
Mure’s interference. He had been sent by Mr. Magee, the Consul at
Mobile, by land to New Orleans, in the hope that Mr. Mure would be
able to procure him a free passage to some British port. He had
served in the Royal Navy, and had received a wound in the Russian
war. The moment he arrived in New Orleans he had been seized by the
police. On his stating that he was a free-born British subject,
the authorities ordered him to be taken to Mr. Mure; he could not
be allowed to go at liberty on account of his colour; the laws of
the State forbad such dangerous experiments on the feelings of the
slave population; and if the Consul did not provide for him, he
would be arrested and kept in prison, if no worse fate befell him.
He was suffering from the effect of his wound, and was evidently in
ill health. Mr. Mure gave him a letter to the Sailors’ Hospital,
and some relief out of his own pocket. The police came as far as
the door with him, and remained outside to arrest him if the Consul
did not afford him protection and provide for him, so that he
should not be seen at large in the streets of the city. The other
day a New Orleans privateer captured three northern brigs, on board
which were ten free negroes. The captain handed them over to the
Recorder, who applied to the Confederate States’ Marshal to take
charge of them. The Marshal refused to receive them, whereupon the
Recorder, as a magistrate and a good citizen, decided on keeping
them in jail, as it would be a bad and dangerous policy to let them
loose upon the community.
I cannot help feeling that the position taken by England in
reference to the question of her coloured subjects is humiliating
and degrading. People who live in London may esteem this question
a light matter; but it has not only been inconsistent with the
national honour; it has so degraded us in the opinion of Americans
themselves, that they are encouraged to indulge in an insolent tone
and in violent acts towards us, which will some day leave Great
Britain no alternative but an appeal to arms. Free coloured persons
are liable to seizure by the police, and to imprisonment, and may
be sold into servitude under certain circumstances.
On arriving at the steamer I found a considerable party of
citizens assembled to see off their friends. Governor Roman’s son
apologised to me for his inability to accompany me up the river,
as he was going to the drill of his company of volunteers. Several
other gentlemen were in uniform; and when we had passed the houses
of the city, I observed companies and troops of horse exercising
on both sides of the banks. On board were Mr. Burnside, a very
extensive proprietor, and Mr. Forstall, agent to Messrs. Baring,
who claims descent from an Irish family near Rochestown, though
he speaks our vernacular with difficulty, and is much more French
than British. He is considered one of the ablest financiers and
economists in the United States, and is certainly very ingenious,
and well crammed with facts and figures.
The aspect of New Orleans from the river is marred by the very
poor houses lining the quays on the levee. Wide streets open on
long vistas bordered by the most paltry little domiciles; and the
great conceptions of those who planned them, notwithstanding the
prosperity of the city, have not been realised.
As we were now floating nine feet higher than the level of the
streets, we could look down upon a sea of flat roofs and low
wooden houses, painted white, pierced by the domes and spires of
churches and public buildings. Grass was growing in many of these
streets. At the other side of the river there is a smaller city of
shingle-roofed houses, with a background of low timber.
The steamer stopped continually at various points along the levee,
discharging commissariat stores, parcels, and passengers; and after
a time glided up into the open country, which spread beneath us
for several miles at each side of the banks, with a continuous
background of forest. All this part of the river is called the
Coast, and the country adjacent is remarkable for its fertility.
The sugar plantations are bounded by lines drawn at right angles
to the banks of the river, and extending through the forest. The
villas of the proprietors are thickly planted in the midst of the
green fields, with the usual porticoes, pillars, verandahs, and
green blinds; and in the vicinity of each are rows of whitewashed
huts, which are the slave quarters. These fields, level as a
billiard-table, are of the brightest green with crops of maize and
sugar.
But few persons were visible; not a boat was to be seen; and in the
course of sixty-two miles we met only two steamers. No shelving
banks, no pebbly shoals, no rocky margins mark the course or
diversify the outline of the Mississippi. The dead, uniform line of
the levee compresses it at each side, and the turbid waters flow
without let in a current of uniform breadth between the monotonous
banks. The gables and summit of one house resemble those of
another; and but for the enormous scale of river and banks, and the
black faces of the few negroes visible, a passenger might think he
was on board a Dutch “treckshuyt.” In fact, the Mississippi is a
huge trench-like canal draining a continent.
At half-past three P.M. the steamer ran alongside the levee at
the right bank, and discharged me at “Cahabanooze,” in the Indian
tongue, or “The ducks’ sleeping place,” together with an English
merchant of New Orleans, M. La Ville Beaufevre, son-in-law of
Governor Roman, and his wife. The Governor was waiting to receive
us in the levee, and led the way through a gate in the paling
which separated his ground from the roadside, towards the house,
a substantial, square, two-storied mansion, with a verandah
all round it, embosomed amid venerable trees, and surrounded by
magnolias. By way of explaining the proximity of his house to the
river, M. Roman told me that a considerable portion of the garden
in front had a short time ago been carried off by the Mississippi;
nor is he at all sure the house itself will not share the same
fate; I hope sincerely it may not. My quarters were in a detached
house, complete in itself, containing four bedrooms, library, and
sitting-room, close to the mansion, and surrounded, like it, by
fine trees.
After we had sat for some time in the shade of the finest group, M.
Roman, or, as he is called, the Governor--once a captain always a
captain--asked me whether I would like to visit the slave quarters.
I assented, and the Governor led the way to a high paling at
the back of the house, inside which the scraping of fiddles was
audible. As we passed the back of the mansion some young women
flitted past in snow white dresses, crinolines, pink sashes, and
gaudily coloured handkerchiefs on their heads, who were, the
Governor told me, the domestic servants going off to a dance at the
sugar-house; he lets his slaves dance every Sunday. The American
planters who are not Catholics, although they do not make the
slaves work on Sunday except there is something to do, rarely grant
them the indulgence of a dance, but a few permit them some hours of
relaxation on each Saturday afternoon.
We entered, by a wicket gate, a square enclosure, lined with negro
huts, built of wood, something like those which came from Malta
to the Crimea in the early part of the campaign. They are not
furnished with windows--a wooden slide or grating admits all the
air a negro desires. There is a partition dividing the hut into
two departments, one of which is used as the sleeping-room, and
contains a truckle bedstead and a mattrass stuffed with cotton
wool, or the hair-like fibres of dried Spanish moss. The wardrobes
of the inmates hang from nails or pegs driven into the wall. The
other room is furnished with a dresser, on which are arranged a
few articles of crockery and kitchen utensils. Sometimes there
is a table in addition to the plain wooden chairs, more or less
dilapidated, constituting the furniture--a hearth, in connection
with a brick chimney outside the cottage, in which, hot as the day
may be, some embers are sure to be found burning. The ground round
the huts was covered with litter and dust, heaps of old shoes,
fragments of clothing and feathers, amidst which pigs and poultry
were recreating. Curs of low degree scampered in and out of the
shade, or around two huge dogs, _chiens de garde_, which are let
loose at night to guard the precincts; belly deep, in a pool of
stagnant water, thirty or forty mules were swinking in the sun and
enjoying their day of rest.
The huts of the negroes engaged in the house are separated from
those of the slaves devoted to field labour out of doors by a
wooden paling. I looked into several of the houses, but somehow
or other felt a repugnance, I dare say unjustifiable, to examine
the penetralia, although invited--indeed, urged, to do so by
the Governor. It was not that I expected to come upon anything
dreadful, but I could not divest myself of some regard for the
feelings of the poor creatures, slaves though they were, who stood
by, shy, curtseying, and silent, as I broke in upon their family
circle, felt their beds, and turned over their clothing. What
right had I to do so?
Swarms of flies, tin cooking utensils attracting them by remnants
of molasses, crockery, broken and old, on the dressers, more or
less old clothes on the wall, these varied over and over again,
were found in all the huts; not a sign of ornament or decoration
was visible; not the most tawdry print, image of Virgin or Saviour;
not a prayerbook or printed volume. The slaves are not encouraged,
or indeed permitted to read, and some communities of slave-owners
punish heavily those attempting to instruct them.
All the slaves seemed respectful to their master; dressed in their
best, they curtseyed, and came up to shake hands with him and with
me. Among them were some very old men and women, the canker-worms
of the estate, who were dozing away into eternity, mindful only
of hominy, and pig, and molasses. Two negro fiddlers were working
their bows with energy in front of one of the huts, and a crowd
of little children were listening to the music, together with a
few grown-up persons of colour, some of them from the adjoining
plantations. The children are generally dressed in a little sack of
coarse calico, which answers all reasonable purposes, even if it be
not very clean.
It might be an interesting subject of inquiry to the natural
philosophers who follow crinology to determine why it is that the
hair of the infant negro, or child, up to six or seven years of
age, is generally a fine red russet, or even gamboge colour, and
gradually darkens into dull ebon. These little bodies were mostly
large-stomached, well fed, and not less happy than free-born
children, although much more valuable--for if once they get over
juvenile dangers, and advance toward nine or ten years of age, they
rise in value to £100 or more, even in times when the market is low
and money is scarce.
The women were not very well-favoured; one yellow girl, with fair
hair and light eyes, whose child was quite white, excepted; the
men were disguised in such strangely cut clothes, their hats, and
shoes, and coats so wonderfully made, that one could not tell what
their figures were like. On all faces there was a gravity which
must be the index to serene contentment and perfect comfort, for
those, who ought to know best, declare they are the happiest race
in the world.
It struck me more and more, however, as I examined the expression
of the faces of the slaves, that deep dejection is the prevailing,
if not universal, characteristic of the race. Here there were
abundant evidences that they were well treated; they had good
clothing of its kind, food, and a master who wittingly could do
them no injustice, as he is, I am sure, incapable of it. Still,
they all looked sad, and even the old woman who boasted that she
had held her old owner in her arms when he was an infant, did not
smile cheerfully, as the nurse at home would have done, at the
sight of her ancient charge.
The negroes rear domestic birds of all kinds, and sell eggs and
poultry to their masters. The money is spent in purchasing tobacco,
molasses, clothes, and flour; whisky, their great delight, they
must not have. Some seventy or eighty hands were quartered in this
part of the estate.
Before leaving the enclosure I was taken to the hospital, which was
in charge of an old negress. The naked rooms contained several
flock beds on rough stands, and five patients, three of whom were
women. They sat listlessly on the beds, looking out into space;
no books to amuse them, no conversation--nothing but their own
dull thoughts, if they had any. They were suffering from pneumonia
and swellings of the glands of the neck; one man had fever. Their
medical attendant visits them regularly, and each plantation has a
practitioner, who is engaged by the term for his services. If the
growth of sugar-cane, cotton, and corn, be the great end of man’s
mission on earth, and if all masters were like Governor Roman,
slavery might be defended as a natural and innocuous institution.
Sugar and cotton are, assuredly, two great agencies in this latter
world. The older one got on well enough without them.
The scraping of the fiddles attracted us to the sugar-house,
where the juice of the cane is expressed, boiled, granulated,
and prepared for the refinery, a large brick building, with a
factory-looking chimney. In a space of the floor unoccupied by
machinery some fifteen women and as many men were assembled, and
four couples were dancing a kind of Irish jig to the music of the
negro musicians--a double shuffle in a thumping ecstasy, with loose
elbows, pendulous paws, angulated knees, heads thrown back, and
backs arched inwards--a glazed eye, intense solemnity of mien.
At this time of year there is no work done in the sugar-house, but
when the crushing and boiling are going on the labour is intensely
trying, and the hands work in gangs night and day; and, if the heat
of the fires be superadded to the temperature in September, it may
be conceded that nothing but “involuntary servitude” could go
through the toil and suffering required to produce sugar.
In the afternoon the Governor’s son came in from the company
which he commands: his men are of the best families in the
country--planters and the like. We sauntered about the gardens,
diminished, as I have said, by a freak of the river. The French
creoles love gardens; the Anglo-Saxons hereabout do not much affect
them, and cultivate their crops up to the very doorway.
It was curious to observe so far away from France so many traces of
the life of the old seigneur--the early meals, in which supper took
the place of dinner--frugal simplicity--and yet a refinement of
manner, kindliness and courtesy not to be exceeded.
In the evening several officers of M. Alfred Roman’s company and
neighbouring planters dropped in, and we sat out in the twilight,
under the trees in the verandah, illuminated by the flashing
fire-flies, and talking politics. I was struck by the profound
silence which reigned all around us, except a low rushing sound,
like that made by the wind blowing over corn-fields, which came from
the mighty river before us. Nothing else was audible but the sound
of our own voices and the distant bark of a dog. After the steamer
which bore us had passed on, I do not believe a single boat floated
up or down the stream, and but one solitary planter, in his gig or
buggy, traversed the road, which lay between the garden palings and
the bank of the great river.
Our friends were all creoles--that is, natives of Louisiana--of
French or Spanish descent. They are kinder and better masters,
according to universal repute, than native Americans or Scotch;
but the New England Yankee is reputed to be the severest of
all slave-owners. All these gentlemen to a man are resolute
that England must get their cotton or perish. She will take it,
therefore, by force; but as the South is determined never to let a
Yankee vessel carry any of its produce, a question has been raised
by Monsieur Baroche, who is at present looking around him in New
Orleans, which causes some difficulty to the astute and statistical
Mr. Forstall. The French economist has calculated that if the
Yankee vessels be excluded from the carrying trade, the commercial
marine of France and England together will be quite inadequate to
carry Southern produce to Europe.
But Southern faith is indomitable. With their faithful negroes to
raise their corn, sugar, and cotton, whilst their young men are at
the wars; with France and England to pour gold into their lap with
which to purchase all they need in the contest, they believe they
can beat all the powers of the Northern world in arms. Illimitable
fields, tilled by multitudinous negroes, open on their sight, and
they behold the empires of Europe, with their manufactures, their
industry, and their wealth, prostrate at the base of their throne,
crying out, “Cotton! More cotton! That is all we ask!”
Mr. Forstall maintains the South can raise an enormous revenue by
a small direct taxation; whilst the North, deprived of Southern
resources, will refuse to pay taxes at all, and will accumulate
enormous debts, inevitably leading to its financial ruin. He,
like every Southern man I have as yet met, expresses unbounded
confidence in Mr. Jefferson Davis. I am asked invariably, as the
second question from a stranger, “Have you seen our President,
sir? don’t you think him a very able man?” This unanimity in the
estimate of his character, and universal confidence in the head of
the State, will prove of incalculable value in a civil war.