Part 30 (1/2)

”Whisky, isn't it?”

”Oh, no, I don't mean that. He does drink some, I know, but what I mean is this: His father died about five years ago. He left his son nothing but fourteen or fifteen n.i.g.g.e.rs. They were all smart, young hands, and he has been able to hire them out, so as to bring a yearly income of two thousand dollars. This has supported him very comfortably. This income stopped a year ago. The n.i.g.g.e.rs have all run away, and that young man is now penniless, and without any means of support. It is one of the results of your infernal Abolition war.”

I a.s.sented that it was a very hard case, and ought to be brought before Congress at the earliest moment. That a promising young man should be deprived of the means of support in consequence of this Abolition war, is unfortunate--for the man.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

OUR FREE-LABOR ENTERPRISE IN PROGRESS.

The Negroes at Work.--Difficulties in the Way.--A Public Meeting.--A Speech.--A Negro's Idea of Freedom.--A Difficult Question to Determine.--Influence of Northern and Southern Men Contrasted.--An Increase of Numbers.--”Ginning” Cotton.--In the Lint-Room.--Mills and Machinery of a Plantation.--A Profitable Enterprise.

On each of the plantations the negroes were at work in the cotton-field. I rode from one to the other, as circ.u.mstances made it necessary, and observed the progress that was made. I could easily perceive they had been accustomed to performing their labor under fear of the lash. Some of them took advantage of the opportunity for carelessness and loitering under the new arrangement. I could not be in the field at all times, to give them my personal supervision. Even if I were constantly present, there was now no lash to be feared.

I saw that an explanation of the new state of affairs would be an advantage to all concerned. On the first Sunday of my stay on the plantation, I called all the negroes together, in order to give them an understanding of their position.

I made a speech that I adapted as nearly as possible to the comprehension of my hearers. My audience was attentive throughout.

I made no allusions to Homer, Dante, or Milton; I did not quote from Gibbon or Macaulay, and I neglected to call their attention to the spectacle they were presenting to the crowned heads of Europe. I explained to them the change the war had made in their condition, and the way in which it had been effected. I told them that all cruel modes of punishment had been abolished. The negroes were free, but they must understand that freedom did not imply idleness. I read to them the regulations established by the commissioners, and explained each point as clearly as I was able. After I had concluded, I offered to answer any questions they might ask.

There were many who could not understand why, if they were free, they should be restricted from going where they pleased at all times. I explained that it was necessary, for the successful management of the plantation, that I should always be able to rely upon them. I asked them to imagine my predicament if they should lose half their time, or go away altogether, in the busiest part of the season. They ”saw the point” at once, and readily acknowledged the necessity of subordination.

I found no one who imagined that his freedom conferred the right of idleness and vagrancy. All expected to labor in their new condition, but they expected compensation for their labor, and did not look for punishment. They expected, further, that their families would not be separated, and that they could be allowed to acquire property for themselves. I know there were many negroes in the South who expected they would neither toil nor spin after being set free, but the belief was by no means universal. The story of the negro at Vicksburg, who expected his race to a.s.semble in New York after the war, ”and have white men for n.i.g.g.e.rs,” is doubtless true, but it would find little credence with the great majority of the freedmen of the South.

The schedule of wages, as established by the commissioners, was read and explained. The negroes were to be furnished with house-rent, rations, fuel, and medical attendance, free of charge. Able-bodied males were to receive eight dollars a month. Other cla.s.ses of laborers would be paid according to the proportionate value of their services.

We were required to keep on hand a supply of clothing, shoes, and other needed articles, which would be issued as required and charged on account. All balances would be paid as soon as the first installment of the cotton crop was sent to market.

This was generally satisfactory, though some of the negroes desired weekly or monthly payments. One of them thought it would be better if they could be paid at the end of each day, and suggested that silver would be preferable to greenbacks or Confederate money. Most of them thought the wages good enough, but this belief was not universal. One man, seventy years old, who acted as a.s.sistant to the ”hog-minder,”

thought he deserved twenty-five dollars per month, in addition to his clothing and rations. Another, of the same age, who carried the breakfast and dinner to the field, was of similar opinion. These were almost the only exceptions. Those whose services were really valuable acquiesced in the arrangement.

On our plantation there was an old negress named ”Rose,” who attended the women during confinement. She was somewhat celebrated in her profession, and received occasional calls to visit white ladies in the neighborhood. After I had dismissed the negroes and sent them to their quarters, I was called upon by Rose, to ascertain the rate at which she would be paid. As she was regularly employed as one of the house-servants, I allowed her the same wages that the other women received. This was satisfactory, so far, but it was not entirely so.

She wished to understand the matter of perquisites.

”When I used to go out to 'tend upon white ladies,” said Rose, ”they gave me ten dollars. Mistress always took half and let me keep the other half.”

”Well, hereafter, you may keep the ten dollars yourself.”

”Thank you.”

After a pause, she spoke again:

”Didn't you say the black people are free?”

”Yes.”

”White people are free, too, ain't they?”

”Yes.”

”Then why shouldn't you pay me ten dollars every time I 'tend upon the black folks on the plantation?”