xt718911nz5r https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt718911nz5r/data/mets.xml Gilmore, James R. (James Roberts), 1822-1903. 1862  books b96-8-34456937 English J.R. Gilmore, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Confederate States of America Social life and customs. United States History Civil War, 1861-1865 Fiction. Among the pines, or, South in secession-time  / by Edmund Kirke [pseud.] text Among the pines, or, South in secession-time  / by Edmund Kirke [pseud.] 1862 2002 true xt718911nz5r section xt718911nz5r 



        A NEW WORK,

 Descriptive of Southern Social Life,

            BY TME AUTHOR OF


        Is now in course of publication in


             PUBLISHED BY

          J. R. GILMORE,

   532 Broadway,-      NEW YORK.








       NEW YORK:



       Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1862,

                       BY J. P. GILMORE,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the
                  Southern District of New York.










           SY THED


 This page in the original text is blank.



CHAPTER L-ON THE RoAD.-Arrival at Georgetown.-The
  Village Inn.-Nocturnal Adventures.-My African Driver.-
  His Strange History-Genuine Negro Songs.-Arrival at
  Bucksville . ............................................  10
  -A Well Ordered Plantation.-A Thunder-storm.-A New
  Guest.-The Hidden Springs of Secession Exposed.-On the
  Way Again.-Intelligence of the Negro.-Renconter with a
  Secessionist ........................................... 30
CHAPTER III.-CROSSING THE Ruxe. - The Black Declines
  His Freedomn-His Reasons for so Doing.-A "native " Abo-
  litionist.-Swimming the Run.-Black Spirits and White.-
  Shelter ...............................................566
CHAPTER IV.-PooR WHiTEs.-The Mills House-South Car-
  olina Clay-Eaters.-Political Discussion.-President Lincoln a
  Negro.-" Three in a Bed and one in the Middle."-250 re-
  ward.-A Secret League .................................. 69
CHAPTER V.-ON THE PLANTATION.-The Planter's Dwelling.
  -His House-Keeper.-The Process of Turpentine Making.
  -Loss to Carolina by Secession.-The Dying Boy.-The Story
  of Jim.-A Northern Man with Southern Principles.-Sam
  Murdered.-Pursuit of the Overseer ...................... 94
Her Story.-A White Slave-Woman's Opinion of Slavery.-
The Stables.-The Negro-Quarters.-Sunday Exercises.-The
Taking of Moye ......................................... 127
CHAPTER VII-PLANTATION Discup'rsE.-The " Ole Cabin."
-The Mode of Negro Punishment.-The " Thumb-Screw."-
A Ministering AngeL-A Negro TriaL-A Rebellion.-A Tur-
pentine Dealer-A Boston Dray on its Travels ............. 150
Political Discussion.-Startling Statistics.-A Freed Negro... 169




  The "Corn-Cracker."-The News.-Strange Disclosure ..... 180
  A Negro Sermon.-The Appearance of Juley.-The Colonel's
  Heartiessness.-The Octoroon's Explanation of it.-The Es.
  cape of Moye .......................................... 196
CHAPTER XI.-THE PURSUIT.-The Start.-" Carolina Race-
  Horses."-A Race.-We Lose the Trail. -A Tornado.-A
  Narrow Escape .. ...................................... 207
  AppareL-" Kissing Goes by Favor."-Schools at the South... 222
  Drunken Yankee.-A Narrow Escape. - Andy Jones.-A
  Light-Wood Fire.-The Colonel's Departure ................ 227
CHAPTER XIV.-Taz BARBACUE.-The Camp-Ground.-The
  Stump-Speaker.-A Stump Speech.-Almost a Fight.-The
  Manner of Roasting the Ox .........  ..................... 239
CHAPTER XV.-THE RruxRN.-Arrival at the Plantation.-
  Disappearance of Juley and her child.-The Old Preacher's
  Story.-Scene Between the Master and the Slave ........... 253
  Whipping of Jim. - Appearance of the " Corn-Cracker."-
  " Drowned.-Drowned."................................ 260
Wife. - His Negroes. - A Juvenile Darky. - Lazarus in
  " Ab'ram's Buzzum."-White and Black Labor Compared.-
  The Mysteries of "Rosum" manufacture .................. 277
Wind to the Shorn Lamb."-The Funeral ................... 295
CHAPTER XIX. - Hom   wARD BouND. - Colonel A       -
Again.-Parting with Scipio.-Why this Book was Written. 298
CHAPTER XX-COxCLUSION.-The Author's Explanations.-
Last News from Moye and Scipio.-Affecting Letter from
Andy Jones.-The End ............ ..................... 303



                  CHAPTER     I.

                  ON THE ROAD.

  SoME winters ago I passed several weeks at Tallahas-
see, Florida, and while there made the acquaintance of
Colonel J , a South Carolina planter. Accident,
some little time later, threw us together again at Charles-
ton, when I was gratified to learn that he would be my
compagnon du voyage as far north as New York.
  He was accompanied by his body-servant, " Jim," a
fine specimen of the genus darky, about thirty years of
age, and born and reared in his master's family. As
far as possible we made the journey by day, stopping
at some convenient resting-place by night; on which
occasions the Colonel, Jim, and myself would occupy
the same or adjoining apartments, "we white folks"
sleeping on four posts, while the more democratic negro
spread his blanket on the floor. Thrown together thus


intimately, it was but natural that we should learn much
of each other.
  The " Colonel" was a highly cultivated and intelligent
gentleman, and during this journey a friendship sprung
up between us-afterward kept alive by a regular cor-
respondence which led him, with his wife and daugh-
ter, and the man Jim, to my house on his next visit at
the North, one year later.  I then promised-if I
should ever again travel in South Carolina-to visit
him on his plantation in the extreme north-eastern part
of the state.
  In December last, about the time of the passage of
the ordinance of secession, I had occasion to visit
Charleston, and, previous to setting out, dispatched a
letter to the Colonel with the information that I was
ready to be led of him "into the wilderness." On ar-
riving at the head-quarters of secession, I found a
missive awaiting me, in which my friend cordially re-
newed his previous tender of hospitality, gave me par-
ticular directions how to proceed, and stated that his
" man Jim" would meet me with a carriage at George-
town, and convey me thence, seventy miles, to " the
  Having performed the business which led me to
Charleston, I set out for the rendezvous five days be-
fore the date fixed for the meeting, intending to occupy
the intervening time in an exploration of the ancient
town and its surroundings.
  The little steamer Nina (a cross between a full-




grown nautilus and a half-grown tub), which a few
weeks later was enrolled as the first man-of-war of the
Confederate navy, then performed the carrying trade
between the two principal cities of South Carolina.
On her, together with sundry boxes and bales, and
certain human merchandise, I embarked at Charleston,
and on a delicious morning, late in December, landed
at Georgetown.
  As the embryo war-steamer rounded up to the long,
low, rickety dock, lumbered breast-high with cotton,
turpentine, and rosin, not a white face was to be seen.
A few half-clad, shiftless-looking negroes, lounging idly
about, were the only portion of the population in wait-
ing to witness our landing.
  "Are all the people dead" I inquired of one of
them, thinking it strange that an event so important
as the arrival of the Charleston packet should excite
no greater interest in so quiet a town. "Not dead,
massa," replied the black, with a knowing chuckle,
"but dcy'm gettin' ready for a fun'ral." "What fu-
neral " I asked. " Why, dey'm gwine to shoot all de
boblition darkies at de Norf, and hab a brack burying;
he! he !" and the sable gentleman expanded the open-
ing in his countenance to an enormous extent, doubt-
less at the brilliancy of his wit.
  I asked him to take my portmanteau, and conduct
me to the best hotel. He readily assented, " Yas, yas,
tuassa, I show you whar de big-buys stop ;" but at
once turning to another darky standing near, he ac-




costed him with, " Here, Jim, you lazy nigga, tote de
gemman's tings."
  "'Why don't you take them yourself" I asked;
"you will then get all the pay."  "No, no, massa;
dat nigga and me in partenship; he do de work, andl
I keeps de change," was the grinning reply, and it ad-
mirably illustrates a peculiarity I have observed to be
universal with the negro. When left to his own di-
rection, he invariably " goes into partenship" with some
one poorer than himself, and no matter how trivial the
task, shirks all the labor he can.
  The silent darky and my portmanteau in the van,
and the garrulous old negro guarding my flank, I
wended my way through the principal street to the
hotel. On the route I resumed the conversation:
  "So, uncle, you say the people here are getting
ready for a black burying "
  "Yas, massa, gwine to bury all dem mis'able free
niggas at de Norf."
  "Why What will you do that for "
  " Why for, massa! you ax why for !" he exclaimed
in surprise.
  " I don't know," I rejoined; " I'm a stranger here."
  " Well, you see, massa, dem boblition niggas up dar
hab gone and 'lected a ole darky, dey call Uncle Abe;
and Old Abe he'se gwine to come down Souf, and cut
de decent niggas' troats. He'll hab a good time-he
will I My young massa's captin ob de sogers, and he'll
eotch de ole coon, and string him up so high de crows




won't scent him; yas, he will ;" and again the old
darky's face opened till it looked like the entrance to
the Mammoth Cave.    He, evidently, had read the
Southern papers.
  Depositing my luggage at the hotel, which I found
on a side street-a dilapidated, unpainted wooden build-
ing, with a female landlord-I started out to explore
the town, till the hour for dinner. Retracing my steps
in the direction of the steamboat landing, I found the
streets nearly deserted, although it was the hour when
the business of the day is usually transacted. Soon I
discovered the cause. The militia of the place were
out on parade. Preceded by a colored band, playing
national airs-in doleful keeping with the occasion-
and followed by a motley collection of negroes of all
sexes and ages, the company was entering the principal
thoroughfare. As it passed me, I could judge of the
prowess of the redoubtable captain, who, according to
Pompey, will hang the President " so high de crows
won't scent him." iHe was a harmless-looking young
man, with long, spindle legs, admirably adapted to run-
ning. Though not formidable in other respects, there was
a certain martial air about an enormous sabre which hung
at his side, and occasionally got entangled in his nether
integuments, and a fiery, warlike look to the heavy tuft
of reddish hair which sprouted in bristling defiance
from his upper lip.
  The company numbered about seventy, some with
uniforms and some without, and bearing all sorts of




arms, from the old flint-lock musket to the modern re-
volving rifle. They were, however, sturdy fellows, and
looked as if they might do service at " the imminent
deadly breach." Their full ranks taken from a popula-
tion of less than five hundred whites, told unmistakably
the intense war feeling of the community.
  Georgetown is one of the oldest towns in South Car-
olina, and it has a decidedly finished appearance. Not
a single building, I was informed, had been erected
there in five years. Turpentine is one of the chief pro-
ductions of the district; yet the cost of white lead and
chrome yellow has made paint a scarce commodity, and
the houses, consequently, all wear a dingy, decayed
look. Though situated on a magnificent bay, a little
below the confluence of three noble rivers, which drain
a country of surpassing richness, and though the centre
of the finest rice-growing district in the world, the
town is dead. Every thing about it wears an air of
dilapidation. The few white men you meet in its
streets, or see lounging lazily around its stores and
warehouses, appear to lack all purpose and energy.
Long contact with the negro seems to have given them
his shiftless, aimless character.
  The ordinance of secession passed the legislature
shortly prior to my arrival, and, as might be ex-
pected, the political situation was the all-engrossing
topic of thought and conversation. In the estimation
of the whites a glorious future was about to open on
the little state. -Whether she stood alone, or sup-




ported by the other slave states, she would assume
a high rank among the nations of the earth; her cot-
ton and rice would draw trade and wealth from every
land, and when she spoke, creation would tremble. Such
overweening state pride in sueGc  a people-shiftless,
indolent, and enervated as they are-strikes a stranger
as in the last degree ludicrous; but when they tell you,
in the presence of the black, whose strong brawny arim
and sinewy frame show that in him lies the real strength
of the state, that this great empire is to be built on the
shoulders of the slave, your smile of incredulity gives
way to an expression of pity, and you are tempted to
ask if those sinewy machines may not THINK, and some
day rise, and topple down the mighty fabric which is to
be reared on their backs !
  Among the " peculiar institutions" of the South are
its inns. I do not refer to the pinchbeck, imitation St.
Nicholas establishments, -which flourish in the larger
cities, but to those home-made affairs, noted for hog and
hominy, corn-cake and awaffles, which crop out here and
there in the smaller towns, the natural growth of South-
ern life and institutions. A model of this class is the
one at Georgetown. Hog, hominy, and corn-cake for
breakfast; waffles, hog, and hominy for dinner; and
hog, hominy, and corn-cake for supper-and such corn-
cake, baked in the ashes of the hearth, a plentiful sup-
ply of the grayish condiment still clinging to it !-is
its never-varying bill of fare. I endured this fare for
a day, how, has ever since been a mystery to ine, but




when night came my experiences were indescribable.
Retiring early, to get the rest needed to fit me for a
long ride on the morrow, I soon realized that "there
is no rest for the wicked," none, at least, for sinners
at the South. Scarcely had my head touched the pil-
low when I was besieged by an army of red-coated
secessionists, who set upon me without mercy. I with-
stood the assault manfully, till " bleeding at every pore,"
and then slowly and sorrowfully beat a retreat. Ten
thousand to one is greater odds than the gallant Ander-
son encountered at Sumter. Yet I determined not to
fully abandon the field. Placing three chairs in a row,
I mounted upon them, and in that seemingly impregna-
ble position hurled defiance at the enemy, in the words
of Scott (slightly altered to suit the occasion)

         "Come one, come all, these chairs shall fly
         From their firm base as soon as L"

My exultation, however, was of short duration. The
persistent foe, scaling my intrenchments, soon re-
turned to the assault with redoubled vigor, and in
utter despair I finally fled. Groping my way through
the hall, and out of the street-door, I departed. The
Sable Brother-alias the Son of Ham-alias the Image
of GOD carved in Ebony-alias the Oppressed Type-
alias the Contraband-alias the Irrepressible Nigger-
alias the Chattel-alias the Darky-alias the Cullud
Pusson-had informed me that I should find the Big
Buis at that hotel. I had found them.




  Staying longer in such a place was out of the ques-
tion, and I determined to make my way to the up-
country without longer waiting for Jim. With the
first streak of day I sallied out to find the means of
  The ancient town boasts no public conveyance, ex-
cept a one-horse gig that carries the mail in tri-weekly
trips to Charleston. That vehicle, originally used by
some New England doctor, in the early part of the
past century, had but one seat, and besides, was not
going the way I intended to take, so I was forced to
seek a conveyance at a livery-stable.  At the only
livery establishment in the place, kept by a "cullud
pusson," who, though a slave, owns a stud of horses
that inight, among a people more movingly inclined,
yield a respectable income, I found what I wanted-a
ligeht Newark buggy, and a spanking gray. Provided
with these, and a darly driver, who was to accompany
me to my destination, and return alone, I started. A
trip of seventy miles is something of an undertaking in
that region, and quite a crowd gathered around to wit-
ness our departure, not a soul of whom, I will wager,
will ever hear the rumble of a stage-coach, or the whis-
tle of a steam-car, in those sandy, deserted streets.
  We soon left the village, and struck a broad avenue,
lined on either side by fine old trees, and extending ill an
air-line for several miles. The road is skirted by broad
rice-fields, and these are dotted here and there by large
antiquated houses, and little collections of negro huts.




It was Christmas week; no hands were busy in the
fields, and every thing wore the aspect of Sunday. We
had ridden a few miles when suddenly the road sunk
into a deep, broad stream, called, as the driver told me,
the Black River. No appliance for crossing being at
hand, or in sight, I was about concluding that some
modern Moses accommodated travellers by passing them
over its bed dry-shod, when a flat-boat shot out from
the jungle on the opposite bank, and pulled toward us.
It was built of two-inch plank, and manned by two in-
firm darkies, with frosted wool, who seemed to need all
their strength to sit upright. In that leaky craft, kept
afloat by incessant baling, we succeeded, at the end o1
an hour, in crossing the river. And this, be it under
stood, is travelling in one of the richest districts of Soutb
  We soon left the region of the rice-fields, and plunged
into dense forests of the long-leafed pine, where for miles
not a house, or any other evidence of human occupa-
tion, is to be seen. Nothing could well be more dreary
than a ride through such a region, and to while away
the tedium of the journey I opened a conversation with
the driver, who up to that time had maintained a re-
spectful silence.
  He was a genuine native African, and a most original
and interesting specimen of his race. His thin, close-
cut lips, straight nose and European features contrasted
strangely with a skin of ebon blackness, and the quiet,
simple dignity of his manner betokened superior intel-




liigence. His story was a strange one. When a boy,
i e -w'as with his mother, kidnapped by a hostile tribe,
and sold to the traders at Cape Lopez, on the western
coast of Africa. There, in the slave-pen, the mother
died, and he, a child of seven years, was sent in the
slave-ship to Cuba. At Havana, when sixteen, he at-
tracted the notice of a gentleman residing in Charleston,
who bought him and took him to " the States." He
lived as house-servant in the family of this gentleman
till 1855, when his master died, leaving him a legacy to
a daughter. This lady, a kind, indulgent mistress, had
since allowed him to " hire his time," and he then car-
ried on an " independent business," as porter, and doer
of all work around the wharves and streets of George-
town. He thus gained a comfortable living, besides
paying to his mistress one hundred and fifty dollars
yearly for the privilege of earning his own support.
In every way he was a remarkable negro, and my three
days' acquaintance with him banished from wy mind all
doubt as to the capacity of the black for freedom, and
all question as to the disposition of the slave to strike
off his chains when the favorable moment arrives. From
him I learned that the blacks, though pretending ignor-
ance, are fully acquainted with the questions at issue in
the pending contest. He expressed the opinion, that
war would come in consequence of the stand South Car-
olina had taken; and when I said to him: "But if it
comes you will be no better off. It will end in a corn-
promise. and leave you where you are." Ile answered -




"No, mass;, 't wont do dat. De Souf will fight hard,
and de Norf will get de blood up, and come down har,
and do 'way wid de cause ob all de trubble and dat
am de nigga."
  "But," I said, "perhaps the South will drive the
North back; as you say, they will fight hard."
  "Dat dey will, massa, dey'm de fightin' sort, but
dey can't whip de Norf, 'cause you see dey'll fight wid
only one hand. When dey fight de Norf wid de right
hand, dey'll hev to hold de nigga wid de leff."
  "But," I replied, "the blacks wont rise; most of
you have kind masters and fare well."
  "Dat's true, massa, but dat an't freedom, and de
black lub freedom as much as de white. De same
blessed LORD made dem both, and HIE made dem all
'like, 'cep de skin. De blacks hab strong hands, and
when de day come you'll see dey hab heads, too !"
  Much other conversation, showing him possessed of a
high degree of intelligence,passed between us. In answer
to my question if he had a family, he said: " No, sar.
My blood shall neber be slaves! Ole massa flog me and
threaten to kill me 'cause I wouldn't take to de wim-
min; but I tole him to kill, dat 't would be more his
loss dan mine."
  I asked if the negroes generally felt as he did, and he
told me that many did; that nearly all would fight for
their freedom if they had the opportunity, though some
preferred slavery because they were sure of being cared
for when old and infirm, not considering that if' their




labor, while they were strong, made their masters rich,
the same labor would afford them provision against old
age. He told me that there are in the district of George-
town twenty thousand blacks, and not more than two
thousand whites, and " Suppose," he added, " dat one-
quarter ob dese niggas rise de rest keep still-whar
den would de white folks be "
  " Of course," I replied, " they would be taken at a
disadvantage; but it would not be long before aid came
from Charleston, and you would be overpowered."
  " No, massa, de chivarly, as you call dem, would be
'way in Virginny, and 'fore dey hard of it Massa Seward
would hab troops 'nough in Georgetown to chaw up do
hull state in less dan no time."
  " But you have no leaders," I said, " no one to direct
the movement. Your race is not a match for the white
in generalship, and without generals, whatever your
numbers, you would fare hardly."
  To this he replied, an elevated enthusiasm lighting up
his face, "De LORD, massa, made generals ob Gideon
and David, and de track man know as much 'bout war
ats dey did; p'raps," he added, with a quiet humor,
de brack aint equal to de white. I knows most ob de
great men, like Washington and John and James and
Paul, and dem ole fellers war white, but dar war Two
Sand (Tousaint L'Overture), de Brack Douglass, and
de Nigga Demus (N'icodemus), dey war brack."
  The argument was unanswerable, and I said nothincg.
If the day which sees the rising of the Southern blacks




comes to this generation, that negro will be among the
leaders. He sang to me several of the songs current
among the negroes of the district, and though of little
poetic value, they interested me, as indicating the feel-
ings of the slaves. The blacks are a musical race, and
the readiness with which many of them improvise words
and melody is wonderful; but I had met none who pos-
sessed the readiness of my new acquaintance. Several
of the tunes he repeated several times, and each time
with a new accompaniment of words. I will try to
render the sentiment of a few of these songs into as
good negro dialect as I am master of, but I cannot hope
to repeat the precise words, or to convey the indescriba-
ble humor and pathos which my darky friend threw in-
to them, and which made our long, solitary ride through
those dreary pine-barrens pass rapidly and pleasantly
away. The first referred to an old darky who was
transplanted from the cotton-fields of "ole Virginny"
to the rice-swamps of Carolina, and who did not like
the change, but found consolation in the fact that rice is
not grown on " the other side of Jordan."

       Come listen, all you darkies, come listen to my soii,
       It am about ole Massa, who use me bery wronD.
       In de cole, frosty mornin', it an't so bery nice,
       Wid de water to de middle to hoe among do rice;
              When I neber hab forgotten
              How I used to hoe de cotton,
              How I used to hoe de cotton,
                  On de ole Virginny shore;




         But I'll neber hoe de cotton,
         Oh neber hoe de cotton
              Any more.
"If I feel de drefful hunger, he tink it am a vice,
And be gib me for my dinner a little broken rice,
A little broken rice and a bery little fat-
And he grumble like de debil if I eat too much of dat;
              When I neber hab forgotten, eta

"He tore me from my DINAH; I tought my heart would burst-
He made me lub anoder when my lub was wid de first,
He sole my picanninnies becase he got dar price,
And shut me in de marsh-field to hoe among de rice;
              When I neber had forgotten, etc.

"And all de day I hoe dar, in all de heat and rain,
And as I hoe away dar, my heart go back again,
Back to do little cabin dat stood among de corn,
And to de ole plantation where she and I war born!
              Oh! I wish I had forgotten, etc.

"Den DINAH am beside me, de chil'ren on my knee,
And dough I am a slave dar, it 'pears to me I'm free,
Till I wake up from my dreaming, and wife and chil'ren goue,
I hoe away and weep dar, and weep dar all alone I
              Oh i I wish I had forgotten, etc.

'But soon a day am comin, a day I long to see,
'When dis darky in de cole ground, foreber will be free,
When wife and chil'ren wid me, I'll sing in Paradise,
How HE, de blessed JEsus, hab bought me wid a price,
              How de LORD hab not forgotten
              How well I hoed de cotton,
              How well I hoed de cotton
                   On de ole Virginny shore;




               Dar I'll neber hoe de cotton,
               Oh I neber hoe de cotton
                   Any more."

  The politics of the following are not exactly those of
the rulers at Washington, but we all may come to this
complexion at last:

          " Hark I darkies, hark I it am do drum
          Dat calls ole Massa 'way from hum,
          Wid powder-pouch and loaded gun,
          To drive ole ABE from Washington;
               Oh! Massa's gwine to Washington,
               So olar de way to Washington-
               Oh I wont dis darky hab sum fun
               When Massa's gwine to Washington!

          " Dis darky know what Massa do;
          He take him long to brack him shoe,
          To brack him shoe and tote him gun,
          When he am 'way to Washington.
               Oh I Massa's gwine to Washington,
               So clar de way to Washington,
               Oh! long afore de mornin' sun
               Ole Massa's gwine to Washington I

          "Ole Massa say ole ABE will eat
          De niggas all excep' de feet-
            De feet, may be, will cut and run,
            When Massa gets to Washington,
               When Massa gets to Washington;
               So clar de way to Washington-
               Oh I wont dis darky cut and run
               When Massa gets to Washington I




        "Dis nigga know ole ABE will save
          His brudder man, de darky slave,
          And dat he'll let him cut and run
          When Massa gets to Washingtou,
              When Massa gets to Washington;
              So clar de way to Washington,
              Ole ABE will let the darkies run
              When Massa gets to Washington."

The next is in a similar vein:

          "A storm am brewin' in de Souf,
              A storm am brewin' now,
            Oh I hearken den and shut your mouf,
              And I will tell you how:
            And I will tell you how, ole boy,
              De storm of fire will pour,
            And make de darkies dance for joy,
              As dey neber danced afore:
            So shut your mouf as close as deafh,
            And all you niggas hole your breafh,
              And I will tell you how.

          "De darkies at de Norf am ris,
              And dey am comin' down-
            Am comin' down, I know dey is,
              To do de white folks brown!
            Dey'll turn ole Massa out to grass,
              And set de niggas free,
            And when dat day am come to pass
              We'll all he dar to see I
           So shut your motif as close as death,
           And all you niggas hole your breafh,
              And do de white folks browin I




            " Den all de week will be as gay
               As am de Chris'mas time;
             We'll dance all night and all de day,
               And make de banjo chime
             And make de banjo chime, I tink,
               And pass de time away,
               Wid 'nuf to eat and 'nuf to drink,
               And not a bit to pay I
             So shut your mouf as close as deafh,
             And all you niggas hole your breal
               And make de banjo chime.

            " Oh! make de banjo chime, you nigs,
                And sound de tamborin,
              And shuffle now de merry jigs,
              For Massa's 'gwine in'-
              For Massa's ' gwine in,' I know,
                And won't he hab de shakes,
             When Yankee darkies show him how
               Dey cotch de rattle-snakes l
             So shut your mouf as close as deafh,
             And all you niggas hole your breaf,
               For Massa's ' gwine in'-
             For Massa's 'gwine in,' I know,
               And won't he hab de shakes
             When Yankee darkies show him how
               Dey cotch de rattle-snakes 1"

  The reader must not conclude that my darky acquaint-
ance is an average specimen of his class. Far from it.
Such instances of intelligence are very rare, and are

 The emblem of South Carolina.




never found except in the cities. There, constant inter-
course with the white renders the black shrewd and in-
telligent, but on the plantations, the case is different.
And besides, my musical friend, as I have said, is a
native African. Fifteen years of observation have con-
vinced me that the imported negro, after being brought
in contact with the white, is far more intelligent than
the ordinary Southern-born black. Slavery cramps the
intellect and dwarfs the nature of a man, and where
the dwarfing process has gone on, in father and son,
for two centuries, it must surely be the case as surely
as that the qualities of the parent are transmitted to the
child-that the later generations are below the first.
This deterioration in the better nature of the slave is
the saddest result of slavery. His moral and intel-
lectual degradation, which is essential to its very