Visit to Mr. M‘Call’s plantation--Irish, and Spaniards--The
planter--A Southern sporting man--The creoles--Leave
Houmas--Donaldsonville--Description of the City--Baton
Rouge--Steamer to Natchez--Southern feeling; faith in Jefferson
Davis--Rise and progress of prosperity for the planters--Ultimate
issue of the war to both North and South.
_June 8th._--According to promise, the inmates of Mr. Burnside’s
house proceeded to pay a visit to-day to the plantation of Mr.
M‘Call, who lives at the other side of the river some ten or
twelve miles away. Still the same noiseless plantations, the same
oppressive stillness, broken only by the tolling of the bell which
summons the slaves to labour, or marks the brief periods of its
respite! Whilst waiting for the ferry-boat, we visited Dr. Cotmann,
who lives in a snug house near the levée, for, hurried as we were,
’twould nevertheless have been a gross breach of etiquette to have
passed his doors; and I was not sorry for the opportunity of making
the acquaintance of a lady so amiable as his wife, and of seeing a
face with tender, pensive eyes, serene brow, and lovely contour,
such as Guido or Greuse would have immortalised, and which Miss
Cotmann, in the seclusion of that little villa on the banks of the
Mississippi, scarcely seemed to know, would have made her a beauty
in any capital in Europe.
The Doctor is allowed to rave on about his Union propensities
and political power, as Mr. Petigru is permitted to indulge in
similar vagaries in Charleston, simply because he is supposed
to be helpless. There is, however, at the bottom of the
Doctor’s opposition to the prevailing political opinion of the
neighbourhood, a jealousy of acres and slaves, and a sentiment of
animosity to the great seigneurs and slave-owners, which actuate
him without his being aware of their influence. After a halt of
an hour in his house, we crossed in the ferry to Donaldsonville,
where, whilst we were waiting for the carriages, we heard a
dialogue between some drunken Irishmen and some still more
inebriated Spaniards in front of the public-house at hand. The
Irishmen were going off to the wars, and were endeavouring in vain
to arouse the foreign gentlemen to similar enthusiasm; but, as the
latter were resolutely sitting in the gutter, it became necessary
to exert eloquence and force to get them on their legs to march to
the head-quarters of the Donaldsonville Chasseurs. “For the love
of the Virgin and your own sowl’s sake, Fernandey, get up and cum
along wid us to fight the Yankees.” “Josey, are you going to let us
be murdered by a set of damned Protestins and rascally niggers?”
“Gomey, my darling, get up; it’s eleven dollars a month, and food
and everything found. The boys will mind the fishing for you, and
we’ll come back as rich as Jews.”
What success attended their appeals I cannot tell, for the
carriages came round, and, having crossed a great bayou which runs
down into an arm of the Mississippi near the sea, we proceeded on
our way to Mr. M‘Call’s plantation, which we reached just as the
sun was sinking into the clouds of another thunderstorm.
The more one sees of a planter’s life the greater is the conviction
that its charms come from a particular turn of mind, which is
separated by a wide interval from modern ideas in Europe. The
planter is a de-nomadised Arab;--he has fixed himself with
horses and slaves in a fertile spot, where he guards his women
with Oriental care, exercises patriarchal sway, and is at once
fierce, tender, and hospitable. The inner life of his household is
exceedingly charming, because one is astonished to find the graces
and accomplishments of womanhood displayed in a scene which has a
certain sort of savage rudeness about it after all, and where all
kinds of incongruous accidents are visible in the service of the
table, in the furniture of the house, in its decorations, menials,
and surrounding scenery.
It was late in the evening when the party returned to
Donaldsonville; and when we arrived at the other side of the bayou
there were no carriages, so that we had to walk on foot to the
wharf where Mr. Burnside’s boats were supposed to be waiting--the
negro ferryman having long since retired to rest. Under any
circumstances a march on foot through an unknown track covered
with blocks of timber and other impedimenta which represented the
road to the ferry, could not be agreeable; but the recent rains
had converted the ground into a sea of mud filled with holes,
with islands of planks and beams of timber, lighted only by the
stars--and then this in dress trousers and light boots!
We plunged, struggled, and splashed till we reached the levée,
where boats there were none; and so Mr. Burnside shouted up
and down the river, so did Mr. Lee, and so did Mr. Ward and
all the others, whilst I sat on a log affecting philosophy and
indifference, in spite of tortures from mosquitoes innumerable, and
severe bites from insects unknown.
The city and river were buried in darkness; the rush of the stream,
which is sixty feet deep near the banks, was all that struck upon
the ear in the intervals of the cries, “Boat ahoy!” “Ho! Batelier!”
and sundry ejaculations of a less regular and decent form. At
length a boat did glide out of the darkness, and the man who rowed
it stated he had been waiting all the time up the bayou, till by
mere accident he came down to the jetty, having given us up for the
night. In about half an hour we were across the river, and had per
force another interview with Dr. Cotmann, who regaled us with his
best in story and in wine till the carriages were ready, and we
drove back to Mr. Burnside’s, only meeting on the way two mounted
horsemen with jingling arms, who were, we were told, the night
patrol;--of their duties I could, however, obtain no very definite
account.
_June 9th._--A thunderstorm, which lasted all the morning and
afternoon till three o’clock. When it cleared I drove, in company
with Mr. Burnside and his friends, to dinner with Mr. Duncan
Kenner, who lives some ten or twelve miles above Houmas. He is one
of the sporting men of the South, well known on the Charleston
race-course, and keeps a large stable of racehorses and brood
mares, under the management of an Englishman. The jocks were
negro lads; and when we arrived, about half-a-dozen of them were
giving the colts a run in the paddock. The calveless legs and
hollow thighs of the negro adapts him admirably for the pigskin;
and these little fellows sat their horses so well, one might have
thought, till the turn in the course displayed their black faces
and grinning mouths, he was looking at a set of John Scott’s young
gentlemen out training.
The Carolinians are true sportsmen, and in the South the Charleston
races create almost as much sensation as our Derby at home. One
of the guests at Mr. Kenner’s knew all about the winners of Epsom
Oaks, and Ascot, and took delight in showing his knowledge of the
“Racing Calendar.”
It is observable, however, that the creoles do not exhibit any
great enthusiasm for horse-racing, but that they apply themselves
rather to cultivate their plantations and to domestic duties; and
it is even remarkable that they do not stand prominently forward in
the State Legislature, or aspire to high political influence and
position, although their numbers and wealth would fairly entitle
them to both. The population of small settlers, scarcely removed
from pauperism, along the river banks, is courted by men who obtain
larger political influence than the great landowners, as the latter
consider it beneath them to have recourse to the arts of the
demagogue.
_June 10th._--At last _venit summa dies et ineluctabile tempus_.
I had seen as much as might be of the best phase of the great
institution--less than I could desire of a most exemplary,
kind-hearted, clear-headed, honest man. In the calm of a glorious
summer evening we crossed the Father of Waters, waving an adieu to
the good friend who stood on the shore, and turning our backs to
the home we had left behind us. It was dark when the boat reached
Donaldsonville on the opposite “coast.”
I should not be surprised to hear that the founder of this
remarkable city, which once contained the archives of the State,
now transferred to Baton Rouge, was a North Briton. There is a
simplicity and economy in the plan of the place not unfavourable
to that view, but the motives which induced Donaldson to found
his Rome on the west of Bayou La Fourche from the Mississippi
must be a secret to all time. Much must the worthy Scot have been
perplexed by his neighbours, a long-reaching colony of Spanish
creoles, who toil not and spin nothing but fishing-nets, and who
live better than Solomon, and are probably as well dressed, _minus_
the barbaric pearl and gold of the Hebrew potentate. Take the
odd, little, retiring, modest houses which grow in the hollows of
Scarborough, add to them the least imposing mansions in the town
of Folkstone, cast these broadsown over the surface of the Essex
marshes, plant a few trees in front of them, then open a few _cafés
billard_ of the camp sort along the main street, and you have done
a very good Donaldsonville.
A policeman welcomes us on the landing, and does the honours of
the market, which has a beggarly account of empty benches, a Texan
bull done into beef, and a coffee-shop. The policeman is a tall,
lean, west countryman; his story is simple, and he has it to tell.
He was one of Dan Rice’s company--a travelling Astley. He came
to Donaldsonville, saw, and was conquered by one of the Spanish
beauties, married her, become tavern-keeper, failed, learned
French, and is now constable of the parish. There was, however, a
weight on his mind. He had studied the matter profoundly, but he
was not near the bottom. How did the friends, relatives, and tribe
of his wife live? No one could say. They reared chickens, and they
caught fish; when there was a pressure on the planters, they turned
out to work for 6_s._ 6_d._ a-day, but those were rare occasions.
The policeman had become quite grey with excogitating the matter,
and he had “nary notion how they did it.”
Donaldsonville has done one fine thing. It has furnished two
companies of soldiers--all Irishmen--to the wars, and the third is
in the course of formation. Not much hedging, ditching, or hard
work these times for Paddy! The blacksmith, a huge tower of muscle,
claims exemption on the ground that “the divil a bit of him comes
from Oireland; he nivir hird af it, barrin’ from the buks he rid,”
and is doing his best to remain behind, but popular opinion is
against him.
As the steamer could not be up from New Orleans till dawn, it was
a relief to saunter through Donaldsonville to see society, which
consisted of several gentlemen and various Jews playing games
unknown to Hoyle, in oaken bar-rooms flanked by billiard tables.
Doctor Cotmann, who had crossed the river to see patients suffering
from an attack of euchre, took us round to a little club, where
I was introduced to a number of gentlemen, who expressed great
pleasure at seeing me, shook hands violently, and walked away; and,
finally, melted off into a cloud of mosquitoes by the river bank,
into a box prepared for them, which was called a bed-room.
These rooms were built of timber on the stage close by the river.
“Why can’t I have one of those rooms?” asked I, pointing to a
larger mosquito box. “It is engaged by ladies.” “How do you know?”
“_Parceque elles out envoyé leur butin._” It was delicious to
meet the French “plunder” for baggage--the old phrase, so nicely
rendered--in the mouth of the Mississippi boatman.
Having passed a night of discomfiture with the winged demons of my
box, I was aroused by the booming of the steam drum of the boat,
dipped my head in water among drowned mosquitoes, and went forth
upon the landing. The policeman had just arrived. His eagle eye
lighted upon a large flat moored alongside, on the stern of which
was inscribed in chalk, “Pork, corn, butter, beef,” &c. Several
“spry” citizens were also on the platform. After salutations
and compliments, policeman speaks--“When did _she_ come in?”
(meaning flat.) First citizen--“In the night, I guess.” Second
citizen--“There’s a lot of whisky aboord, too.” Policeman (with
pleased surprise)--“Yeu never mean it?” First citizen--“Yes,
sir; one hundred and twenty gallons!” Policeman (inspired by
patriotism)--“It’s a west-country boat; why _don’t_ the citizens
seize it? And whisky rising from 17c. to 35c. a gallon!” Citizens
murmur approval, and I feel the whisky part of the cargo is not
safe. “Yes, sir,” says citizen three, “they seize all our property
at Cairey (Cairo), and I’m making an example of this cargo.”
Further reasons for the seizure were adduced, and it is probable
they were as strong as the whisky, which has, no doubt, been
drunk long ago on the very purest principles. In course of
conversation with the committee of taste which had assembled, it
was revealed to me that there was a strict watch kept over those
boats which are freighted with whisky forbidden to the slaves,
and with principles, when they come from the west-country, equally
objectionable. “Did you hear, sir, of the chap over at Duncan
Kenner’s, as was caught the other day?” “No, sir, what was it?”
“Well, sir, he was a man that came here and went over among the
niggers at Kenner’s to buy their chickens from them. He was took
up, and they found he’d a lot of money about him.” “Well, of
course, he had money to buy the chickens.” “Yes, sir, but it looked
suspeec-ious. He was a west-country fellow, tew, and he might have
been tamperin’ with ’em. Lucky for him he was not taken in the
arternoon.” “Why so?” “Because, if the citizens had been drunk,
they’d have hung him on the spot.”
The Acadia was now alongside, and in the early morning
Donaldsonville receded rapidly into trees and clouds. To bed,
and make amends for mosquito visits, and after a long sleep look
out again on the scene. It is difficult to believe that we have
been going eleven miles an hour against the turbid river, which
is of the same appearance as it was below--the same banks, bends,
drift-wood, and trees. Large timber rafts, navigated by a couple
of men, who stood in the shade of a few upright boards, were
encountered at long intervals. White egrets and blue herons rose
from the marshes. At every landing the whites who came down were
in some sort of uniform. There were two blacks placed on board at
one of the landings in irons--captured runaways--and very miserable
they looked at the thought of being restored to the bosom of the
patriarchal family from which they had, no doubt, so prodigally
eloped. I fear the fatted calfskin would be applied to their backs.
_June 11th._--Before noon the steamer hauled alongside a stationary
hulk at Baton Rouge, which once “walked the waters” by the aid
of machinery, but which was now used as a floating hotel, depôt,
and storehouse--315 feet long, and fully thirty feet on the upper
deck above the level of the river. The Acadia stopped, and I
disembarked. Here were my quarters till the boat for Natchez should
arrive. The proprietor of the floating hotel was somewhat excited
because one of his servants was away. The man presently came in
sight. “Where have you been, you ----?” “Away to buy de newspaper,
Massa.” “For who, you ----?” “Me buy ’em for no one, Massa; me sell
’um agin, Massa.” “See, now, you ----, if ever you goes aboard them
steamers to meddle with newspapers, I’m ---- but I’ll kill you,
mind that!”
Baton Rouge is the capital of the State of Louisiana, and the State
House thereof is a very quaint and very new example of bad taste.
The Deaf and Dumb Asylum near it is in a much better style. It was
my intention to have visited the State Prison and Penitentiary, but
the day was too hot, and the distance too great, and so I dined at
the oddest little creole restaurant, with the funniest old hostess,
and the strangest company in the world.
On returning to the boat hotel, Mr. Conrad, one of the citizens of
the place, and Mr. W. Avery, a judge of the district court, were
good enough to call and to invite me to remain some time, but I
was obliged to decline. These gentlemen were members of the home
guard, and drilled assiduously every evening. Of the 1300 voters
at Baton Rouge, more than 750 are already off to the wars, and
another company is being formed to follow them. Mr. Conrad has
three sons in the field, and another is anxious to follow, and he
and his friend, Mr. Avery, are quite ready to die for the disunion.
The waiter who served out drinks in the bar wore a uniform, and
his musket lay in the corner among the brandy bottles. At night a
patriotic meeting of citizen soldiery took place in the bow, with
which song and whisky had much to do, so that sleep was difficult.
Precisely at seven o’clock on Wednesday morning the Mary T. came
alongside, and soon afterward bore me on to Natchez, through
scenery which became wilder and less cultivated as she got
upwards. Of the 1500 steamers on the river, not a tithe are now in
employment, and the owners of these profitable flotillas are “in a
bad way.” It was late at night when the steamer arrived at Natchez,
and next morning early I took shelter in another engineless steamer
beside the bank of the river at Natchez-under-the-hill, which was
thought to be a hotel by its owners.
In the morning I asked for breakfast. “There is nothing for
breakfast; go to Curry’s on shore.” Walk up hill to Curry’s--a
bar-room occupied by a waiter and flies. “Can I have any
breakfast?” “No, sir-ree; it’s over half-an-hour ago.” “Nothing
to eat at all?” “No, sir.” “Can I get some anywhere else?” “I
guess not.” It had been my belief that a man with money in his
pocket could not starve in any country _soi-disant_ civilized. I
chewed the cud of fancy _faute de mieux_, and became the centre of
attraction to citizens, from whose conversation I learned that this
was “Jeff. Davis’ fast day.” Observed one, “It quite puts me in
mind of Sunday; all the stores closed.” Said another, “We’ll soon
have Sunday every day, then, for I ’spect it won’t be worth while
for most shops to keep open any longer.” Natchez, a place of much
trade and cotton export in the season, is now as dull--let us say,
as Harwich without a regatta. But it is ultra-secessionist, _nil
obstante_.
My hunger was assuaged by Mr. Marshall, who drove me to his
comfortable mansion through a country like the wooded parts
of Sussex, abounding in fine trees, and in the only lawns and
park-like fields I have yet seen in America.
After dinner, my host took me out to visit a wealthy planter,
who has raised and armed a cavalry corps at his own expense. We
were obliged to get out of the carriage at a narrow lane and walk
toward the encampment on foot in the dark; a sentry stopped us,
and we observed that there was a semblance of military method in
the camp. The captain was walking up and down in the verandah
of the poor hut, for which he had abandoned his home. A book of
tactics--Hardee’s--lay on the table of his little room. Our friend
was full of fight, and said he would give all he had in the world
to the cause. But the day before, and a party of horse, composed
of sixty gentlemen in the district, worth from £20,000 to £50,000
each, had started for the war in Virginia. Everything to be seen
or heard testifies to the great zeal and resolution with which the
South have entered upon the quarrel. But they hold the power of the
United States and the loyalty of the North to the Union at far too
cheap a rate.
Next day was passed in a delightful drive through cotton fields,
Indian corn, and undulating woodlands, amid which were some
charming residences. I crossed the river at Natchez, and saw
one fine plantation, in which the corn, however, was by no means
so good as the crops I have seen on the coast. The cotton looks
well, and some had already burst into flower--bloom, as it is
called--which has turned to a flagrant pink, and seems saucily
conscious that its boll will play an important part in the world.
The inhabitants of the tracts on the banks of the Mississippi, and
on the inland regions hereabout, ought to be, in the natural order
of things, a people almost nomadic, living by the chase, and by a
sparse agriculture, in the freedom which tempted their ancestors to
leave Europe. But the Old World has been working for them. All its
trials have been theirs; the fruits of its experience, its labours,
its research, its discoveries, are theirs. Steam has enabled them
to turn their rivers into highways, to open primeval forests to the
light of day and to man. All these, however, would have availed
them little had not the demands of manufacture abroad, and the
increasing luxury and population of the North and West at home,
enabled them to find in these swamps and uplands sources of wealth
richer and more certain than all the gold mines of the world.
There must be gnomes to work those mines. Slavery was an
institution ready to their hands. In its development there lay
every material means for securing the prosperity which Manchester
opened to them, and in supplying their own countrymen with sugar.
The small, struggling, deeply-mortgaged proprietors of swamp and
forest set their negroes to work to raise levées, to cut down
trees, to plant and sow. Cotton at ten cents a pound gave a nugget
in every boll. Land could be had for a few dollars an acre. Negroes
were cheap in proportion. Men who made a few thousand dollars
invested them in more negroes, and more land, and borrowed as much
again for the same purpose. They waxed fat and rich--there seemed
no bounds to their fortune.
But threatening voices came from the North--the echoes of the
sentiments of the civilised world repenting of its evil pierced
their ears, and they found their feet were of clay, and that they
were nodding to their fall in the midst of their power. Ruin
inevitable awaited them if they did not shut out these sounds and
stop the fatal utterances.
The issue is to them one of life and death. Whoever raises it
hereafter, if it be not decided now, must expect to meet the deadly
animosity which is now displayed towards the North. The success
of the South--if they can succeed--must lead to complications and
results in other parts of the world, for which neither they nor
Europe are prepared. Of one thing there can be no doubt--a slave
state cannot long exist without a slave trade. The poor whites who
have won the fight will demand their share of the spoils. The land
for tilth is abundant, and all that is wanted to give them fortunes
is a supply of slaves. They will have that in spite of their
masters, unless a stronger power than the Slave States prevents the
accomplishment of their wishes.
The gentleman in whose house I was stopping was not insensible
to the dangers of the future, and would, I think, like many
others, not at all regret to find himself and property safe in
England. His father, the very day of our arrival, had proceeded to
Canada with his daughters, but the Confederate authorities are
now determined to confiscate all property belonging to persons
who endeavour to evade the responsibilities of patriotism. In
such matters the pressure of the majority is irresistible, and
a sort of mob law supplants any remissness on the part of the
authorities. In the South, where the deeds of the land of cypress
and myrtle are exaggerated by passion, this power will be exercised
very rigorously. The very language of the people is full of the
excesses generally accepted as types of Americanism. Turning over
a newspaper this morning, I came upon a “card” as it is called,
signed by one “Mr. Bonner,” relating to a dispute between himself
and an Assistant-Quartermaster-General, about the carriage of
some wood at Mobile, which concludes with the sentence that I
transcribe, as an evidence of the style which is tolerated, if not
admired, down South:--
“If such a Shylock-hearted, caitiff scoundrel does exist, give me
the evidence, and I will drag him before the bar of public opinion,
and consign him to an infamy so deep and damnable that the hand of
the Resurrection will never reach him.”
END OF VOL I.
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Since borrowed, it is supposed, by Mr. Seward, and handed over
by him to Mr. Stanton. Lafayette gave it to Washington, he also
gave his name to the Fort which has played so conspicuous a part in
the war for liberty--“La liberté des deux mondes,” might well sigh
if he could see his work, and what it has led to.
[2] Since killed in a duel by Mr. Rhelt.
[3] Now Confederate General.
[4] Since killed in action.
[5] Since killed.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.
Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.
Many words with hyphens, or without them, have been silently
adjusted to be more consistent. For example, instances of
‘ferry boat’ ‘ferry-boat’ and ‘ferryboat’ have all been made
‘ferry-boat’; ‘bare-footed’ has been changed to ‘barefooted’.
For consistency, instances of a.m. or p.m. have been
made upper case A.M. or P.M.
Pg xi: page number ‘59’ replaced by ‘60’.
Pg 21: ‘savans’ replaced by ‘savants’.
Pg 26: ‘and Welchmen’ replaced by ‘and Welshmen’.
Pg 33: ‘every accessary to’ replaced by ‘every accessory to’.
Pg 37: ‘obdurate offendors’ replaced by ‘obdurate offenders’.
Pg 48: ‘borders of Minniesota’ replaced by ‘borders of Minnesota’.
Pg 62: ‘but peole who’ replaced by ‘but people who’.
Pg 73: ‘the hairdresssers and’ replaced by ‘the hairdressers and’.
Pg 79: ‘preposterous capitol’ replaced by ‘preposterous capital’.
Pg 85: ‘Vernon Assocation’ replaced by ‘Vernon Association’.
Pg 100: ‘in the Brocklyn’ replaced by ‘in the Brooklyn’.
Pg 112: ‘force at Charlestown’ replaced by ‘force at Charleston’.
Pg 114: ‘there was was a’ replaced by ‘there was a’.
Pg 116: ‘to the the city’ replaced by ‘to the city’.
Pg 125: ‘Seabord and Roanoke’ replaced by ‘Seaboard and Roanoke’.
Pg 131: ‘désagrémens’ replaced by ‘désagréments’.
Pg 131: ‘forest hap been’ replaced by ‘forest had been’.
Pg 171: ‘about Pedee, or’ replaced by ‘about Peedee, or’.
Pg 182: ‘white curaçoa’ replaced by ‘white curaçao’ (twice).
Pg 184: ‘Maccamaw River’ replaced by ‘Waccamaw River’.
Pg 195: ‘Macamaw River’ replaced by ‘Waccamaw River’.
Pg 224: ‘the once renowed’ replaced by ‘the once renowned’.
Pg 229: ‘sourse of argument’ replaced by ‘source of argument’.
Pg 229: ‘Wo betide’ replaced by ‘Woe betide’.
Pg 237: ‘racoons, frogs’ replaced by ‘raccoons, frogs’.
Pg 238: ‘many fillibusters’ replaced by ‘many filibusters’.
Pg 243: ‘Southener at last’ replaced by ‘Southerner at last’.
Pg 244: ‘in junks, and each junk’ replaced by ‘in chunks, and each
chunk’.
Pg 269: ‘creek and scream’ replaced by ‘creak and scream’.
Pg 308: ‘The magatines’ replaced by ‘The magazines’.
Pg 318: ‘the Powhattan being’ replaced by ‘the Powhatan being’.
Pg 366: ‘Visit to M. Ronan’ replaced by ‘Visit to M. Roman’.
Pg 368: ‘and Mr. Forstal’ replaced by ‘and Mr. Forstall’.
Pg 394: ‘two hogheads’ replaced by ‘two hogsheads’.