SEVEN YEARS 
 
 tje Freednp. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. REVISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 M. WATERBURYc 
 
 \ \ 
 
 
 T.B. ARNOLD, 
 
 CHICAGO, ILL.t 
 1891. 
 

 w.5 
 
 1211 
 
 DEDICATION, 
 
 To rny 
 
 Associate Teachers 
 in Heaven and on Earth, 
 
 to the 
 Sunday Schools 
 
 that have 
 
 Helped me in my Work 
 /\mong the Freedmen, 
 
 and to the 
 
 Y, M- C. A. of Scotland, 
 which supplied me 
 
 with Books 
 
 this volume is dedicated 
 by the author. 
 
 M. WATERBUflY. 
 
 Copyright, 1890, by Maria Waterbtttf . 
 
ONE OF THE THREE TEACHERS. 
 
^9 
 
 Above is a picture of a teacher, a graduate of one of the colleges 
 of Michigan. She used to say the f reedmen work was her hus 
 band and children. She has just passed to her reward in heaven. 
 The following lines are affectionately inscribed to her by the au 
 thor of this book, her associate teacher for two years: 
 
 Gone to Canaan, entered in, 
 Freed from every snare and sin; 
 We on this side Jordan's shore 
 See thy friendly face no more. 
 
 No more talks about our Lord 
 No more searchings of his word, 
 No more longings for his grace, 
 She hath seen him face to face. 
 
 Finished all the teaching years, 
 Finished all the prayers and tears, 
 Sword, and shield, and helmet on, 
 Gone to Canaan, for the crown. 
 
 All her toils on earth are done, 
 Through the cross the victory won. 
 She the golden streets hath trod, 
 Gone to Canaan, gone to God. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 JOURNEYING. 
 
 "In perils by mine own countrymen." 2 Cor. xi. 26. 
 
 The instructions of the missionary society, are, 
 "go south about eight hundred miles, until you find 
 the plantation school waiting for you." The last 
 week of November two of us start from near 
 Chicago. Our Saratoga trunks are heavy with 
 books. Our friends in the northern churches, have 
 sent us with many prayers and blessings, and our 
 gray-haired pastor has given us letters of introduc 
 tion to churches at the South, wherever we may find 
 a home. We are to teach our first Freedmen's 
 school, on a plantation, twenty-five miles from a rail 
 road. From Cairo, Illinois, we go down the Mis 
 sissippi, and across to Paducah, Kentucky. The 
 marks of the bomb-shelling the town received in wat 
 time, are still visible. The houses are unpainted, 
 gloomy-looking habitations, some of them with ball 
 holes in them. 
 
 IVJ29768 
 
10 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 From the large steamer we have crossed the 
 river in, we ascend the bluffs, and take the cars on 
 the M. & O. railroad. All day we have been trav 
 eling with a party of southern ladies, who have been 
 north to attend a wedding; one of them walks with 
 crutches. We have been through the train in Illi 
 nois, distributing tracts, and the sweet-faced lady on 
 crutches, says to us: 
 
 "Oh! you have tracts. Yes, I'll take some 
 tracts, and Pll join your company too. I'm a 
 preacher's wife, and I do that kind of work some 
 times." 
 
 "Indeed! Do you work among black and white 
 both?" 
 
 "Yes; I tell 'em they're all bound for the same 
 place. The grave'll soon hold us all." 
 
 Directly one of the southern ladies, two or three 
 seats distant, says in a loud voice, "You'll soon see 
 some nigger teachers. My husband say* they all 
 wear spectacles, and read newspapers." 
 
 We laugh in our sleeves to think the high-toned 
 southrons sought our society, and don't dream they 
 are traveling with hated nigger teachers; but we 
 say nothing. 
 
 Arriving at Jackson, Tennessee, the lame lady, 
 and all but one of the others, change cars for New 
 Orleans. 
 
 The lady now left alone, draws a little nearer to 
 us, and we adjust ourselves to continue our journey. 
 
 "Tickets! tickets!" says the conductor, and takes 
 our government passes, which show we are traveling 
 under protection of the government. lie looks at 
 
JOURNEYING. . II 
 
 them, and at us, and with an "all right," passes on. 
 As a thunder cloud quickly gathers blackness some 
 times, so the face of our southern traveling compan 
 ion grows darker and more gloomy, until with a 
 sudden jerk, she bounds tcrher feet, and handing her 
 small baggage to a brakeman near, says, "Show me 
 out of this car," and we lose our company. 
 
 Nearing Corinth, a southern woman, who has 
 seen the performances of the day, comes down the 
 aisle of the car, and with a scornful look, points out 
 of the window towards the soldiers' cemetery, ex 
 claiming, "Yon's where the Yanks is buried, about 
 ten thousand of 'em. Yon's the flag a flyin' over 
 'em, an' yon was the battle of Shiloh, about twelve 
 miles away. Yon's the road they made to bring 'em 
 on, when they buried 'em." 
 
 Seating herself for a few minutes, she waits 
 until the train stops, and many of the passengers go 
 out to lunch, then begins walking up and down the 
 aisle of the car, and in a tragic manner says, half 
 crying, "My son was killed! I can't stand it yet, 
 when I think of it. Oh! if I only had* em Pd make 
 a finish of 'em /" Seeing one of the teachers in tears, 
 she says, "May be you uns lost some too?" 
 
 "Yes," is the reply; "starved to death!" 
 
 "My God!" says the woman; "that's worse than 
 mine." After that, we have one sympathizer on the. 
 train. 
 
 We reach the end of our railroad ride at mid 
 night, and find at the shed-like depot only a white 
 man with a lantern, and a dozen half-grown colored 
 boys dressed in cotton sacks and cast-off clothes of 
 
12 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 union soldiers. The man with the lantern repre 
 sents the only hotel in the place, and we follow him 
 on foot, less than half a mile, to the hotel kept by 
 two women, both widows. They give us the best 
 room, and light a fire in the fire-place for us, which 
 smokes and goes out. The night air has chilled us 
 through, and the hostess kindly comes in to see if 
 she can improve things. She puffs away at the 
 pipe she has in her mouth, but the fire does nothing 
 but smoke. The hotel is full of boarders, and 
 among them, the livery stable keeper, who is to 
 send us twenty-five miles into the country. He re 
 quires pay in advance, and we give him twelve dol 
 lars and a half, and retire; but not to sleep much as 
 the bed is preoccupied by vermin. Breakfast con 
 sists of corn bread, bacon, and sweet potatoes, and 
 ere long we are loading up for our ride. For a driv 
 er we have a one-legge/1 ex-confederate soldier, of 
 the poor white class.j/Otir conveyance is a cart with 
 two wheels. A pair of mules and two splint-bot 
 tomed chairs complete our outfit. Wedged in, so 
 that every inch of room is occupied with our chairs 
 and trunks, we wonder where the driver will sit; 
 but he swings tip on a trunk, and hangs his one leg 
 down, very near the mules' tails. With all the 
 boarders in the house standing on the veranda, and 
 the two widows smoking their pipes, with their 
 heads out of the windows, we start. 
 
 Did ever mules snail like those? It was fully 
 twelve o'clock, ere we had gone six miles, then our 
 driver stopped his team, and demanded of us how 
 much we paid the stable keeper for "totin' us, over 
 
JOURNEYING. 13 
 
 thar"; drawling- out, "I'll be darned, if ye all don' 
 tell me, I'll go plumb V.ack this minute." Of course 
 we tell him, twelve dollars. 
 
 "Wall now ef he ain't took twelve dollar from 
 ye, an here he don't guv me mor'n five. I'm gwine 
 back"; and he turned his mules toward our place of 
 starting in the morning, all the while darning every 
 thing and everybody. 
 
 At length after many persuasions on our part, 
 and promise of more pay, he turned again, and be 
 gan the journey. To divert his mind from his bar 
 gain, we inquired the cause of his having but one 
 leg. 
 
 "Lost it in the war, ma'arm; an' wuz took a 
 prizener tu, an' carried outer a gun-boat! Been all 
 up thar, tu de norf ; seen all dat country, an' loikes 
 it tu; been tu Chicagur, an' couldn't a' been treated 
 better by my own brudder; had fresh bread every 
 day, an' a good bed, an' preachin in camp o' Sun 
 days, an' dem people used us like we had allers bin 
 thar neighburs." 
 
 In the midst of a muddy ravine just here, down 
 went the cart, and the trunks being too heavy for it, 
 the bottom fell out; trunks, chairs, and all began to 
 sink, down, down, until we were fast in the mud, 
 and for once the driver forgot to grumble. One of 
 the wagon wheels was broken, and all the one leg 
 ged driver could do was to hold fast to the mules 
 Soon one of the teachers said to the other, 
 
 "I feel sure help is coming! Don't you believe 
 it?" "I believe you say so," said the other teacher. 
 She had hardly uttered the words, when a stout col- 
 
14 M-;VEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 ored man made his appearance, but was going past 
 us without stopping. "Help us now ver," said the 
 driver; and the Boston teacher began pulling blight 
 covered books out of her traveling bag, saying, "You 
 
 shall have a book if you help us out with the trunks." 
 All of us lifting together, we, with some diilicultv, 
 placed the trunks on the ground. Was it a special 
 providence that at that moment sent a man with a 
 stout pair of mules and a big wagon towards us, just 
 as our one-legged driver with his broken cart was 
 driving off to leave us in the pine woods alone, and 
 night coming on? 
 
 This time we rode in what at the West is called 
 a prairie-schooner. The driver was a poor white, 
 who earned his living bv u doin' haulin'," us he called 
 it. He could onlv tote us a few miles he said, but 
 knew of a Mr. Ma\ bee, a man who kept entertain 
 ment for man and beast, and after much grumbling 
 about having to go plumb out of the way he meant 
 to go, and after promise of large pay, he took us 
 three miles farther on our journcv, we talking of the 
 countrv, of the war, of the crops, and of the great 
 question, "What muM I do to be saved;"" "-Did vou 
 never think vou owed anv service to God?" said one 
 of the teachers to him, by way of beginning the con 
 versation. 
 
 u \Vall, noma'arm. Xeowef leverd tho't I owed 
 God anything Fd be darned, I'd pay it," was the 
 reply. 
 
 The depth of this man's ignorance was dreadful ! 
 No Bible, no idea of his Maker, not much more than 
 pne of his mules. There are many thousands of these 
 
JOURNEYING. 15 
 
 poor whites, at the South. In a white school of our 
 acquaintance, one of them undertook to send a child 
 to the school, but the child never had any notice ta 
 ken of it by the teacher, who was employed to teach 
 upper-ten whites. The white people of the country 
 never associate with poor whites any more than with 
 colored people. 
 
 Snailing along in the rain, we arrive at Mr. 
 Maybee's, but his wife is sick, his house is being re 
 built, and he can't keep us, but refers us to the Arm 
 strong sisters, a mile away, where we can surely 
 find a place for the night; and he helps us persuade 
 the driver to take us there. The ladies are relatives 
 of the planter who has sent for us to teach his 
 ex-slaves. They have heard of the proposed 
 school, and proceed to ventilate their opinions of it 
 and us, freely. 
 
 "You are ladies, and before I'd teach a nigger 
 school, I'd beg my bread from door to door. No 
 you can't come into our house, and Mr. Maybee is a 
 black-hearted wretch to send you here! Nigger 
 teachers, indeed! As though we would disgrace 
 ourselves having them in our house!" 
 
 These ladies were not uneducated, or low, but 
 were of the highest class in the South. We respect 
 ed their prejudices, but were amazed at their hatred. 
 After some more conversation, leveled at us from 
 the windows, out of which they stuck their heads 
 to talk, they consented to let the driver set our trunks 
 inside their yard, and informed us Colonel Jedson lived 
 a mile farther on, and he would doubtless keep us all 
 night. Once more we started, this time on foot, to 
 
1 6 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREE DM hi \. 
 
 complete our day's journey, in the rain, anil very 
 near night-fall. Soon we were joined by a young 
 colored woman who lived on the Jedson plantation, 
 and we felt in good company, and "happy on the 
 way.' 1 
 
 At the colonel's gate the colored woman gave 
 a loud call, as is the custom South, as some one 
 must ward off the dogs, before it is safe to enter any 
 yard. Very soon the gentleman of the house makes 
 his appearance, coming out to the gate to meet us; 
 and it seems, after our weary day, we are to see what 
 southern hospitality is. 
 
 "Walk in ladies and deposit your bundles," says 
 the ex-rebel colonel, "and I will see that you are 
 cared for." 
 
 We are shown into the best room of the house, 
 the first plastered wall we have seen in the state, as 
 many of the houses are ceiled in the style of a hun 
 dred years ago. Exit Colonel Jedson, and a colored 
 girl comes in, bearing two glasses of water on a 
 server. We had heard of this beautiful custom at 
 the South, of receiving strangers, and we drink and 
 begin to rest. The colonel's little son and two serv 
 ants, bring each a log of wood for the fire, on their 
 shoulders, lay them down in the fire-place, and 
 march out with a military step, all in line. Next 
 comes a colored woman, bringing fire, and "fat-pine" 
 kindlings, and soon the colonel comes in to see that 
 fire started. In half an hour, the lady, Mrs. Jedson, 
 comes in with a long gossamer veil floating from 
 the back of her head, reaching nearly to her knees, 
 and spends half an hour entertaining us. After her 
 
JOURNEYING. 1 7 
 
 exit, comes the grown daughter of the family to sit 
 with her embroidery, and, by small talk, make it 
 pleasant for the strangers. The fragrant fat pine 
 from the fire, the blaze of which flickers out upon 
 the whitewashed wall, the restful-looking great 
 couch in the corner, the white sanded floor, 
 and easy splint-bottomed chairs, and the whole fam 
 ily vying with each other to entertain us, we begin 
 to think after all, the South is a part of our grand 
 country, and we are near of kin to these Christian 
 .people. 
 
 A few weeks afterwards, we met the daughter, 
 who treated us so handsomely at home, in church, 
 and at the close of service, we attempt to speak to 
 her, and inquire after her father's family, and she in 
 stantly and abruptly turns her back upon us, ignoring 
 our presence. Wanted. A new dictionary to ex 
 plain southern prejudice. 
 
 "It's Gog and Magog, yet ma'am, for quite a 
 while I reckon," says a northern person, who has 
 spent several years South. 
 
 Morning, and breakfast over, the colonel would 
 take us the remaining six miles of our journey; but 
 this plantation, where once lived two hundred slaves, 
 and much stock, now has only one mule and one or 
 two cows. 
 
 "Only one mule, ma'am," says the colonel, "and 
 we are using that in the cotton-gin, every day." 
 
 A walk of a mile back to the Armstrong sisters, to 
 know what has become of our trunks, and see if we 
 can find another mule. Half way on our walk stands 
 a mule with a saddle on it, tied to a gate. We accost 
 
I <S SKVHN YKAKS A.MO.\(. Mil. !' K I . K I>.M K .N . 
 
 the stranger who owns it, tell him our situation, aiul 
 ask if the mule can be hired for the drive. He is a 
 neighbor of the colonel's, and consents to ride up to 
 his house, and soon we are off for the place of our 
 year's work. The colonel has a Yankee market- 
 wagon. He drives for us, and Mrs. Jedson accom 
 panies us part of the way, to visit her brother who is 
 very ill. 
 
 Arriving at the plantation, we find a store, a 
 shop or two, a white school, and an immense build 
 ing, used in slave times for a white boys' school. 
 We are to have living rooms in the upper story of the 
 large building, and school rooms in the lower. A col 
 ored woman is employed as cook for us; and at our 
 first Sunday-school, the next morning, over a hun 
 dred black people, men and women, join in singing 
 so grandly, that it brings tears to our eyes to hear 
 the wonderful pathos of their music. The white 
 planter believes the school will please the blacks, 
 and be a means of helping him keep the better class 
 of them to do his work. At the first Sunday-school, 
 he brings his newspaper, and sits in the chapel near 
 us to hear our instruction. They tell us he is a class- 
 leader, anil we ask him to open the school with 
 prayer. He peers at us over his spectacles and says, 
 "That's your business, ma'am," and we two teachers 
 go on with the school, giving oral instruction, as not 
 ten of the hundred before us can read. 
 
 In the afternoon we go to the first colored meet 
 ing we have ever attended. Five ministers are in 
 the pulpit. The church building is far inferior to 
 the barns at home. A young preacher, very black, 
 
JOURNEYING. 19 
 
 reads from Revelation vi., of "an angel with a pair 
 of banisters in his hand." The ignorant sermon is 
 done, and the praying! oh! that is enough to pay us 
 for our journey of eight hundred miles, mule rides, 
 poor whites, and all. We are lifted on those prayers 
 heavenward, and the songs reach to the depths of 
 our souls. As the benediction is prqnounced, the 
 only white man in the large audience, wearing lem 
 on-colored kid gloves, rises and says he has heard of 
 a school to be opened for the people, that he has 
 thought of teaching a school himself, and will begin 
 in the morning. 
 
 The young preacher of the day, says, "We has 
 got our teachers here, from de norf, with much 
 trouble, an' de good book says, ef we put our hand 
 to de plow, an' look back, we aint fit fur de king 
 dom. An' we is goin' tu stick tu our teachers." 
 
 But the war against us has begun, and we are 
 threatened with many things. "The building will 
 be burnt I fear," says the planter. "You all can 
 come to my house for awhile." 
 
 In the upper story of the plantation house, we 
 are guarded by fr.eedmen, not daring to begin our 
 school. Here we pass the Christmas holidays, cared 
 for by the planter's family, and guarded at night by 
 colored people, who built great bonfires, and we 
 hear them in their night watches, talking, and some 
 times singing. They are paying dear for their first 
 attempt at starting a school. On Christmas morning 
 before breakfast, a colored woman, bearing two 
 glasses of egg-nog, comes up stairs, saying, "Mrs. 
 S. sends her compliments, and wishes you a merry 
 
20 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMEN. 
 
 Christmas." We thank her and say, "Tell the lady 
 we never drink anything of the kind." 
 
 The astonished girl goes down, and again re 
 turns, saying, "The missus wants to know if you 
 will take some wine." We tell her we never drank 
 a glass in our lives, and ask her to excuse us, saying, 
 "Our church at home has the temperance pledge, as 
 a part of the creed." 
 
 We pass the day writing, and towards evening, 
 go down to chat a little with the family. The 
 planter rises and begins telling us we needn't fear, 
 as he has his gun loaded, and dogs ready, and if there 
 is any fuss, he can soon stop it. We notice his gun 
 standing in the corner of the room, and soon he be 
 gins to stagger towards it, so drunk he nearly falls 
 down. Alas! this is our protection! We hope it is 
 better with the freedmen, but find many of them too, 
 have been drinking. The planter has a wine cellar, 
 and to cheer them up in their trouble, has taken one 
 or two favorite ex-slaves into it, and dealt out liquors 
 to them, and they have given to others, until many 
 on the place are drunk. 
 
 We retire to our room, realizing that our "weap 
 ons are not carnal." Before the holidays are over, 
 we see children drunk, for the first time in our lives. 
 In a week we begin school, and immediately start a 
 temperance society. Before the five months of 
 school are closed, there are over a hundred members 
 to our Band of Hope, and over thirty are hopefully 
 converted. 
 
 "Peter was of doubting mind, 
 About the work he came to do. 
 
JOURNEYING. 21 
 
 Simon Peter, go your way, 
 
 And never mind what the world'll say. 
 
 Hold out, your troubles will be over. 
 
 Hold out, your troubles will be over. 
 
 Hold out, your troubles will be over. 
 Hope I'll jine the band." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 KU-KL.UX AND PKAYKK. 
 
 A large brick house with a lovely garden in the 
 rear, walks bordered with box, fig trees with green 
 and ripe figs on them, tall pines down the walk, 
 lovely roses, and climbing vines one of the homes 
 of aristocracy in slave times. The planter who lived 
 here owned several hundred slaves. Now a family 
 from the North reside here, and we two "nigger 
 teachers" board with them. The family have been 
 visiting twenty miles away for a day or two, and we 
 teachers are keeping house for them, with a colored 
 family of six persons living in the kitchens, three 
 rods in the rear of the house, and doing all the work 
 for us. We are in charge of two colored schools a 
 mile away. We have .heard of the Ku-Klux being 
 on their night raids of late, and this morning as the 
 clock struck two, we heard a low whistle outside the 
 
 gate, and Miss C and the writer woke the same 
 
 moment, each saying to the other, "Did you hear 
 
 22 
 
KU-KLUX AND PRAYER. 2g 
 
 that?" We struck a light, pulled down the shades 
 of the windows, and hastily dressed, but not before 
 we heard the tramp of heavy feet on the porch out 
 side. Our room opened into another room kept for 
 storage purposes, where was a large box of shelled 
 corn. 'Twas the work of a moment for us to slip a 
 package containing a large sum of mone\-, that had 
 been left by an officer under government, in care of 
 the lady of the house, into the box of corn, and drag 
 our Saratoga trunks against the door. The money 
 was left in our care in the absence of the family, and 
 for a moment we supposed the night riders had found 
 it out; but afterwards learned they knew nothing 
 of it, but were trying to impress upon the teachers, 
 and northern family, the fact that "this is a white 
 man's government." 
 
 Tramp, tramp went the feet, first on the north 
 porch, then on the south, and ever and anon a whistle, 
 and we expected them to enter, but God heard our 
 prayers for safety. We sat, one on each side of our 
 little table, with our lamp lighted, and our Bibles in 
 our hands, and read aloud the promises of our God, 
 so mighty to save. 
 
 u As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, 
 so the Lord is round about his people from hence 
 forth even forever." Psa. cxxv. 2. 
 
 "If two of you shall agree on earth, as touching 
 anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for 
 them of my Father which is in heaven." Matt, 
 xviii. 19. 
 
 We said, "Lord, we do agree, and we ask that 
 the intruders may not eter this room." 
 
24 SEVEN YEARS AMONG TTIE FRKEDMEN. 
 
 Together we repeated the same prayer, over and 
 over, and soon one of us said, "I have the assurance 
 that they 'will not enter." Tramp, tramp went the 
 feet on the porch, and we heard them try the locks 
 of the doors, and whistle to each other, and thus for 
 over two hours we watched and waited, and only 
 until the morning began to dawn, did they go to 
 their carriages and ride away. 
 
 In the morning we saw the tracks of horses, and 
 of many people. The next night a guard from the 
 town, a mile away, came and staid on the plantation. 
 
 We afterwards heard there were two wagon 
 loads of Ku-Klux, but they dared not enter to molest 
 us, as they feared we were armed, and so we were, 
 and guarded, too, for "the angel of the Lord encamp- 
 eth round about them that fear him, and delivered! 
 them." We had only proved God's faithfulness. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 DOGS. 
 
 "This way, ma'am, if you please. You'll need 
 to get acquainted with the dogs, or it won't be safe 
 for ye to stay on the place." 
 
 At this juncture the old planter went through 
 with the ceremony of introducing the dogs to us, as 
 he called it. A number of savage-looking hounds 
 were told to put their noses on our dresses, which 
 they did; then told they must guard us, but mustn't 
 hurt us; and we were told to throw them some 
 crumbs of food, and after a pat or two from the 
 planter, they seemed to consider us as belonging to 
 the place. 
 
 "There's nine of 'em on the plantation, and it 
 takes more to feed 'em than to bread my family," 
 said he. "When you come into the yard, throw 
 'em a few crumbs, and they'll guard ye!" 
 
 The nine dogs were only a small portion of the 
 dog family we saw, for every family seemed to pride 
 
 2 5 
 
26 
 
DOGS. 27 
 
 themselves more on the number of dogs they owned, 
 than on the appearance of the plantation. One of 
 the teachers gave names to the dogs that called daily 
 to get the crumbs from the school yard, and some 
 times she told us that the lame dog had made its ap 
 pearance, or the very large dog, or the long-tailed 
 dog, or the spotted hound had come; or the sneaking 
 dog or the fox-tailed dog had left, and the yellow 
 dog and the leanest dog were just coming. 
 
 Having occasion to visit a dressmaker once, we 
 were beset by a monstrous bull-dog, and as we 
 thought, but just-escaped being devoured, when the 
 mistress made her appearance and ordered the dog to 
 "git," and he went under the house with a bound, 
 and remained there until called out to be introduced 
 to us. 
 
 "That dog," said the seamstress, "went through 
 the war with me, and when General Grierson and 
 his staff rode up to the door, I said, 'Gentlemen, if 
 you want a decent meal of victuals in my house, you 
 can have it; but if you've come to ransack as some of 
 the soldiers do, you can't do it, for my dog'll tear at 
 least one of ye in pieces the minute I say the word. t 
 The soldiers talked together a little, then rode away. 
 They didn't know I had nigh onto ten thousand dol 
 lars worth of silver plate hid in my chamber, that 
 my neighbors had trusted me with, or more'n three 
 thousand dollars in confederate money on my person. 
 My neighbors knew my grit, an' they knew that 
 dog'd protect me, an' they felt safer'n though they 
 kept their silver themselves. But I don't want no 
 more war. 
 
.is M-.VEN YEARS AMONG THE FRKKDMKN. 
 
 "My father and mother was from Germany, 
 and I never had no stuck-up notions about work, so 
 I worked with my needle, and six months before the 
 war broke out, I bought Jane for twelve hundred 
 dollars in gold, I had earned at the end o' the needle, 
 but now she's free, an' I aint a carin' for that, but 
 thar's my hard work gone. I don't take no stock in 
 slavery now. Jane's the only one I ever owned, and 
 since the surrender, I've been to New York every 
 year to get goods, an' I see the difference 'tween free 
 labor an' slave labor. An' I tell you, slavery's what's 
 been the curse of this country, and we didn't get to 
 know it, 'til we'd been beat nearly as fine as 
 powder. 
 
 "I maae a rebel flag once, that cost a hundred 
 dollars, all of silk, and the Yanks fought and took it, 
 and I aint carin' fur that. I see now the leaders in 
 that war was all wrong. They thought we could 
 split off from the north. I tell you, they might as 
 well think of doing without one eye; an' I think it's 
 like provoking Providence to go on hating the North, 
 when nearly everything we wear on our backs, 
 comes from there. 
 
 "An* jest let me tell you, when I went into a 
 Yankee kitchen, an' see the things they used there, 
 it was like a new world to me. I didn't know the 
 names of half the traps they had to cook with; two 
 story kettles to cook things by steam, and ranges to 
 burn hard coal in, and here we mostly have our fire 
 places, and a few pot hooks and cranes, such as their 
 great-grandmothers used a hundred years ago. I 
 tell ye slavery's dun it! An' that aint oil it's dun, 
 
DOGS. 29 
 
 neither. 
 
 "Here's our young men, all they're brought up 
 to's to pitch quoits, an' hunt foxes, an' ride around 
 fur the nigs tu wait on, an' they haint been fetched 
 up tu think they ought tu work; and the gals aint 
 a bit better afraid tu wash and iron fur fear o' low- 
 erin' their dignity. I tell ye, when God put Adam 
 and Eve in the garden, an' told 'em to dress it, they 
 had tu work for a limn*, and didn't have nobody to 
 order around neither; and the good book says, 'if any 
 would not work, neither should he eat,' and the 
 sooner we git at it the better. 
 
 "Here's swarms of our girls, good, and kind, 
 and all o' that, but they scarcely know how to git 
 into their close, without some Chloe, or Aunt Lu- 
 cinda to help 'em ; an' there up North the women are 
 book-keepers, and telegraphers, and saleswomen, and 
 teachers. Why it jest beats all my 'rithmetic, to see 
 how they get around, and they drive horses for 
 themselves too. Think o' that! I bet nobody south 
 o' Mason an' Dixon's line'd think o' ridin' if they 
 couldn't have a coachman. That's what's the mat 
 ter. 
 
 "I was born in Georgia, an' I aint ashamed o' 
 my state nuther; but I tell you, afore I went North 
 an' seen 'em work, I didn't know much more about 
 it 'an a last year's crow's nest; an' wen I went onto 
 them western farms, an' see 'em histin' nigh onto a 
 ton o' hay into a great barn that looked like one o' 
 our meetin 1 houses, and two men a duin 1 with 
 the new-fangled machinery, more'n ten niggers 
 would du here, I sez that's workin\ An' books an 1 
 
3 SKVKN Y11AKS AMOMJ TJIli FKEKDMKN. 
 
 larnin' helps 'em tu; book Larnin 1 don't make men 
 
 set up above theyselves by no means; it jcs lanis 'cm 
 how tu du things. 
 
 "Well, thinks I, wen I get back, I'll give 
 all a piece o 1 my mind about work. Jes tu see 
 how contented like them hired men was; an' wen 
 they come into the house, the minute they sot down 
 tu rest, they had a book or a paper, an' wen we sot 
 down tu the table every one on 'em sot down an' eat 
 with the family. An' tu hear 'em talk so kind o' 
 learned like, I jest declar 1 tu you now, I tho't some 
 on 'em wuz preachers, they had so much larnin'. 
 An' there they wux a teachin school in winter, an' a 
 workin' on farms in summer, 'n no one tho't any the 
 less on 'em. An' now / say let them northerners 
 come on yer, an' let 'em live among us, the more the 
 better; 'n ef they can't find no other place to roost, 
 they may mash my bread a rf meat all winter" 
 
 The dog had stealthily made his appearance 
 again, and was behind his mistress' chair, his hair 
 rising like a porcupine airing his quills, and evident 
 ly going for the school ma'am. 
 
 "Thar! take that," said the mistress, giving him 
 a slap with her press board, as she drew it from the 
 sleeve of a dress she was pressing, u an' now come 
 yer, an' be introduced to the lady." 
 
 The dog that had whined away with his tail 
 drooping, turned instantly and obeyed his mistress, 
 putting his nose on our clothing when told to, and 
 wagging his tail, showing signs of pleasure, and 
 said his mistress, "Ye must guard 'em, an' mustn't 
 bite 'em. D'ye hear? An' now git" at which he 
 
DOGS. 3 1 
 
 went under the house with a bound, and we were 
 told to 'tote a biscuit' for him, when we came into 
 the yard. 
 
 By this time, Jane, the former slave, and a_Jme_ 
 loojking woman she was too, had risen to go. 
 
 "There, take that," said the former mistress, 
 giving her a piece of money. 
 
 "Thankee, ma'am," said Jane. "Good evenin', 
 miss. Good evenin', ma'am. I's mightily obleeged 
 tu ye." 
 
 "That gal," continued the woman, "is a better 
 Christian 'an I am. Ef I get sick, 'long comes Jane 
 tu see me. I never struck her a lick in my life, 
 though she wuz mighty peart sometimes. No worse 
 'n I'd be, ef I'd been sold an' bo't an' toted round, 
 her ole man in one place an' she in another. 
 
 "Laws! let the by-gones go; but I never did see 
 no religion in goin' back on the Lord 'cause he made 
 more'n half the people some other color'n white! 
 'Taint half o' this world that's white, now is it? 
 'Pears like it's ahead o' my 'rithmetic. There's the 
 Chinese, they aint white, an' there's heaps o' others, 
 they tell me, sides the Injuns,'that's red, or yaller, or 
 sunthin'; an' I jes don't see no use o' fallin' out with 
 God, cause he didn't ax us what color he should 
 make people. 
 
 "Actions is what duz the bizziness; all else aint 
 wo'th a stuffed 'possum skin. 'Taint all our people, 
 you min', as is quarrelin' cause folks aint so white as 
 they is; but there is a set of 'em, women an' gals, an' 
 men tu, 'taint no wise 'spectin' tu du much but loll 
 round in good close, an' read Scott's novels an' sich. 
 
32 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMEN, 
 
 An' I'm sick o' the hull bizziness." 
 
 With a "good evening," we left the industrious 
 southern woman pounding her flat-iron on her press- 
 board, vigorously, her niece running her Boston sew 
 ing machine with a will, and her monstrous cat 
 asleeep near her, in a basket of cotton seed. 
 
POOB WHITE, CHEWING A DIP-STICK. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DIP-STICKS. 
 
 "How d'ye, ma'am," says a bright little girl of 
 eight, with a woolly head, and coal-black skin, and a 
 stick three inches long protruding from her mouth. 
 "I cum by de gum tree dis mornin', to bring you 
 some dip-sticks tooth brushes," says the little Af 
 rican, handing me a bundle of small sticks. 
 
 "What did you say they were, and what are 
 you doing with the one in your mouth, child?" 
 
 "Dis yer one, ma'am? Jes chewin' some snuff, 
 dey giv me up to de big house. Miss Sallie an' 
 all de white 'uns dips, an' Massar Jim dun giv me a 
 clime tu buy snuff wid, an' I dun bought a heap fur 
 Chloe an' me; hev shore! Don' dey dip up at de 
 Norf, ma'am?" said the little snuff chewer, aston 
 ished at the marks of disgust, which by this time 
 amounted to loathing, in the countenance of her 
 northern friend. 
 
 A teacher sitting near by, said, "The child is 
 
 34 
 
DIP-STICKS. 35 
 
 correct. Miss Sallie and the white ones do chew 
 snuff QVL the end of such sticks, and so do most of the 
 white southern ladies. I never -saw more than two 
 or three who would speak against it. Yesterday I 
 saw Miss Armstrong, who wore an elegant silk dress, 
 made in the height of style, with just such a stick in 
 her mouth, and saw her take out her stick, and snuff 
 box, and dip the stick into the snuff, and chew, and 
 dip again; and I saw Miss Sallie taking an afternoon 
 nap, with her dip-stick in her mouth." 
 
 One end of the stick is chewed until it resem 
 bles a small brush, then dipped into the snuff, and 
 chewed and dipped with evident satisfaction; and in 
 parlor and in kitchen, in street and in church, I have 
 seen the practice prevail. In. fact, like the bow-wow 
 meat of China, it's the custom of the country. The 
 old geographies used to say the productions of 
 North Carolina were tar, pitch, turpentine, and lum 
 ber, but if asked what are the productions of the 
 country now, we should say tobacco and whisky, in 
 this part of the country. 
 
 Miss Armstrong, a member of a Christian 
 church, and a lady high in society, invited us, when 
 we called there, to take a whisky toddy to keep the 
 chills off; and when for the twentieth time we re 
 fused, and told her the church at home would turn 
 her members out for drinking toddies, and rather 
 than drink toddies we would shake until all our teeth 
 flew out. She was amazed at such radical teetotalism, 
 and still clinging to her ideas of good breeding, 
 says: 
 
 "Well, you know where the jug. is; it's there by 
 
36 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMKN. 
 
 the side of the molasses jug; help yourself." 
 Oh! how we wished for some Samson to carry 
 off these barriers of worse than heathenish customs, 
 and deluge this land with temperance; and we make 
 bold to say : 
 
 "Madam, you are on the crater of a volcano that 
 threatens to engulf you and all your dear ones, with 
 these fumes of toddies. The dip-sticks and all are 
 conjured up from the bottomless pit to ruin you, 
 and" 
 
 "Who pays you for lecturing," says my south 
 ern lady friend. "Have a dip-stick?" 
 
CHAPTER V . 
 
 "OLE MISS." 
 
 "If you 'uns'll get a driver, you can httvxj my 
 carriage and a pair o' mules, to go and visit ole "ivliss 
 Sumpert. She's sent word to me, to have you all 
 come and see her. She takes mightily to the north- 
 err, people. You'll see the trees with the union 
 soldiers' names cut on 'em, as you go through the 
 pines. 'Twas Grierson's raid, ma'am, that wen 
 through these parts, and before I'd see another war 
 they might take niggers an' white trash, cotton 
 mules, an' all, ma'am. Them's my sentiments about 
 war! The Yanks wa'nt a bit worse than our men 
 It was all war. If they wanted victuals, they had to 
 have 'em, whether we had anything left or not; and 
 war in a country, means starvation generally, I 
 reckon. 
 
 "You all don't need to talk to me, about free la 
 bor bein' the best, though. You ought to been down 
 to the cotton-gin to-day, an' seen 'em work. Dennis, 
 
 37 
 
38 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 and Saul, and Arthur and a few more of 'em, turned 
 off more work to-day, of paid labor, than a whole 
 gang of 'em did, at the end o' the lash a few years 
 ago." 
 
 , 'Twas the old planter talking, with his broad- 
 brimmed hat, and homespun clothes on. He had 
 been overseeing the work of paid laborers, who, in 
 stead of a peck of corn meal a week, and two suits of 
 clothes a year, as in slave times, expected to have 
 their pay at the end of the week ; and although not 
 working much himst If, was around among his men, 
 and really pleased, to think paid help was better than 
 slave labor. 
 
 "Fool! as I have been, and all the rest of us, 
 down here! WeVe been feeding a gang of slaves, 
 an' had 'em to take care of, and doctor when they's 
 sick, and no end to the expense o' runnin' 'em, and 
 here paid labor is more profitable than all of it. 
 They work better, and I feel better about it, that's a 
 fact; an' I'd lie if I didn't say so. 
 
 "But here comes Parson. He'll drive over to 
 the old lady's. It's nine miles as the crow flies. May 
 be you'll find some o' the streams a little rough to 
 cross; but you all'll have a good time, an' ye can 
 take one o' the hounds along to protect ye. That's 
 our custom. A dog's a useful animal down yer." 
 
 A corduroy road nearly half the way, built of 
 round logs, lying so close as to touch each other, 
 built by the soldiers in war time. We went bump 
 ing over it, our mules, and black driver, a young 
 Methodist Episcopal preacher, all in style, though 
 we declined taking the dog. Oh, the road! When 
 
4 *OLE MISS." 39 
 
 we left the corduroy, we found ourselves so deep in 
 mud, we wished we were bumping on it again; and 
 when we were on it, we thought the mud prefer 
 able. 
 
 Soon we saw the names of soldiers, hundreds of 
 them, cut in the bark of trees, five years ago: 
 Company I. New York Volunteers, E. S., Company 
 E. Illinois Cavalry. Some of them had been de 
 faced, but most of them were cut high up on the 
 trees, and would doubtless stand many years to come. 
 
 "Dem's de people as fought for we 'uns," was 
 the interpretation of the black driver. "Dem's Mas- 
 ser Lincum's men." 
 
 Arriving at the old lady's, as most of her neigh 
 bors called her, we found a widow, of about' seventy 
 years, living alone, with only her former slaves 
 around her. She too, had found paid labor the best', 
 and so kind was she to her help, that none of them 
 could be hired to leave her. They were so attentive 
 to her, that her wish was their law. Some of them 
 were paid, and still lived in their cabins, as in slave 
 times; others worked a part of her land on shares; 
 all seeming to value "Ole Miss," and defer to her 
 wishes, as to a mother. 
 
 Her large plantation house, with its white 
 washed walls, and wide fire-place, filled with fra 
 grant pine boughs, was not furnished in great style; 
 but the old-fashioned splint bottomed chairs were 
 comfortable, and we rested. At table we had the 
 usual dish to please northerners, viz. fried chicken, 
 with its accompaniment of sweet potatoes and corn 
 bread; behind our chairs, as is the invariable custom 
 
40 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 South, a waiter standing, ready to pass our glasses of 
 milk, or help us to anything on the table. 
 
 "I tell my people," said our hostess, "now 
 they're free, and they can go if they want to, and 
 work for themselves; but every one of them 'stick 
 .by,' and it 'pears like they can't spare me, and /can't 
 spare them" 
 
 Ah! here was the secret of holding them by 
 love. "Ole Miss" was to every one of them as a 
 mother, and the outcropping of this too scarce arti- 
 -cle, in this world, didn't stop with me and mine. 
 
 After we had dined, and were sitting on the 
 veranda, she continued: 
 
 "There is the smoke-house I hid a sick Yankee 
 soldier in, for six months, until he got well enough 
 to go up North after the surrender, and I took care 
 o' the southern soldiers, too." 
 
 Noble woman! The prince of peace had found 
 too deep a lodging place in that soul, to be affected 
 by war; and wherever she saw a fellow creature, she 
 saw some one to bless and benefit. 
 
 "Every wise woman buildeth her house," said 
 one of the teachers on our homeward ride. "Yes; 
 but do you think these former slave-holders would 
 succeed as well in governing by love as she? They 
 might try it; perhaps it wouldn't fill their coffers so 
 fast, but the woman has the 'true riches,' with her 
 soul full of love to every-body. She's rich anyway." 
 
 "Dat's jes so," chimed in the young colored 
 preacher . 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AUNT PEGGY. 
 
 "How d'ye, ma'am! I cum tree mile dls morn- 
 in', tu tell ye de Lawd stood by me last night, an' he 
 tell me you all is safe! He aint gwine tu let ye 
 get 'sturbed by de white 'uns, honey. You jes go 
 on teechin' de skule, an' de good Massa tote you in 
 his bosom. 
 
 "I got shoutin' happy last night, an'my ole man 
 says, 'Peggy, what ails ye?' I says, 'Ole man, wake 
 up! de Lawd is yer! He done jes filled me, an' he 
 aint gwine tu let dat are skule be broke up.' Hon 
 ey, de Lawd jes showed me how he shet de lions' 
 mouths, an' he got ye all in de holler ob his hand; 
 dey can't touch a hair o' you heads. Hallelujah! 
 Massar Jesus got sumthin' tu du wid dis skule. You 
 jes go on teechin', honey. De Lawd dun sent de 
 angels, tu stan' by ye. He cover ye wid his 
 feathers." 
 
 A prayer-meeting fifty black people some 
 4 1 
 
COPY OF A KU-KLUX LETTER. 
 
 Scipio. 
 
 Miss W 
 
 We send you a picture of the way we treated 
 a Yankee school ma'am in this county last year. 
 Beware lest you shear the same fate. 
 
 Regnlaters. 
 42 
 
AUNT PEGGY. 43 
 
 gray-headed, who were stolen from Africa when 
 they were infants; some whose mothers had been 
 sold and run off to the sugar plantations, before they 
 were a year old. Ah! how such had learned to pray 
 Now the school had been threatened by Ku Klux. 
 A letter had been written to a teacher, with the pict 
 ure of a white girl tied to a tree, and a man standing 
 on each side, with an overseer's whip, laying strokes 
 on her back. "On the side of their oppressors there 
 was power." Under the picture was written, 
 "This is the way we serve northern ^nigger teach 
 ers? Beware! lest vou shere the same fate." This 
 
 j 
 
 is not a fancy picture, reader, but an actual fact. 
 
 Old Aunt Emeline begins the prayer-meeting 
 by singing in the old slavery wail, trotting her foot 
 to keep time, and all join in singing, swaying their 
 bodies from side to side, as if overwhelmed with 
 grief. 
 
 "'Rastlin' Jacob! an' I will not let thee go! 
 'Rastlin' Jacob! an' I will not let thee go!" 
 
 Still wailing out the song, they fall upon their 
 knees, and with sobs and prayers, tell Jesus about 
 "dem people who's tryin' tu brake up de skule." 
 
 "Masser Jesus, put dy hand ober our teachers. 
 Jesus, aint you de same God as took Jonah out ob de 
 belly ob de whale? Shine in our hearts, Masser 
 Jesus, and help us tu lub our enemies. Ain't you de 
 same God as 'livered Dan'l from de den ob lions? 
 'Liver us, good Lawd, an' tote us in yo' bosom, an' 
 hedge us 'bout, an' plant us out anew fur de king- 
 dum. Masser Jesus, set down de right foot ob dy 
 power hea* ! an' keep dis skule in de holler ob you' 
 
44 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE PREEDMEN. 
 
 hand. Cum dis way, Masser, an' bind us all in de 
 bundle ob life." 
 
 A brickbat or two thrown into the school-yard 
 just here, but the singing and praying go on. A 
 young preacher who began to lead the meeting, falls 
 over, and lies like a dead man until long past mid 
 night. Two or three others fall under the power 
 of God, and loud shouts of glory rend the night air. 
 The aged gray-haired preacher calls on the teacher 
 to read from the good book, and a little hush is made 
 while she reads: 
 
 "For the oppression of the poor, for the sigh 
 ing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Lord; I 
 will set him in safety from him that puffeth at him." 
 Ps. xii. 5. "All my bones shall say, Lord, who is 
 like unto thce, which deliverest the poor from him 
 that is too strong for him, yea, the poor and the 
 needy from him that spoileth him?" Ps. xxxv. 10. 
 "The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trou 
 ble; and he knoweth them that trust in him." Na- 
 hum i. 7. "For, behold, the day cometh, that shall 
 burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that 
 do wickedly, shall be as stubble." Malachi iv. I. 
 "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, * * * pray 
 for them which despitefully use and persecute you." 
 
 "Dat's it," says old Uncle Harvey. "Read dat 
 again. Dat's what I's a doin'. I done tote young 
 masser in my bosom now dese forty years, an' he 
 mighty peart tu me; but i lubs him, an' I's tellin' 
 Jesus 'bout him. I aint gwine tu guv up, till I hear 
 him callin' on Jesus tu save his soul. I's wantin 
 him tu turn tu de stronghold, '.fore de day ob tribu- 
 
AUNT PEGGY. 
 
 45 
 
 lation cum. Lawd, turn de sinner man, an' give him 
 a hang-down head, an' a heavy heart, 'til he find 
 Jesus. Let de waters ob salvation tru his soul, an 
 wash away all de devil's lies; drive ole Satan out ob 
 dis country, an' chain him down in de pit of 'struc- 
 tion where he 'longs, an' save de poo' sinner man 
 for Jesus' sake." 
 
 Soon the fallen ones begin to wake up, shouting 
 "glory!" and all shake hands vigorously. Surely, 
 the dove of peace sits on the dusky faces of these 
 who have taken the kingdom of heaven by violence. 
 
 Aunt Peggy was right, and the school went on 
 until the end of the year, and closed with an exhi 
 bition, at which some of the ex-slaveholders sat, 
 listening to scholars who had learned to read well in 
 one short year. Here we taught a young woman, 
 who walked twenty-five miles to find a school, and 
 learned the alphabet perfectly in three days. Here 
 were taught young colored preachers, who had been 
 preaching some time, but couldn't read a word, and 
 their conferences had now voted they should learn to 
 read. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 Our first year of school is over. We have 
 taught over two hunched colored people, only two 
 lady teachers, af all ages, sizes, and colors, from jet- 
 black to pure white-looking, and many of the class 
 called by the jet-black ones "yaller ones." We have 
 lived in an old school building, used for a white 
 school in slave times, now a harbor for rats by day, 
 and dogs by night. We have cooked much of our 
 food, because we couldn't eat food cooked the way 
 our cook prepared it. We have either cooked by a 
 fire-place, such as was used a hundred years ago in 
 the northern states, or done worse, paid an enormous 
 rent for an old shell of a smoky stove, almost always 
 using green pine wood. No one seems to think it 
 worth while to keep wood seasoned and cut, ready 
 for use; and we have never seen a wood-house in the 
 South. Now the school is done, and the people 
 have come to say good-by's. We are to start at 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND- 47 
 
 four o'clock in the morning, for another twenty-five 
 mile ride, this time in a large carriage the planter 
 has never had out of his carriage-house since the 
 surrender. A closed carriage, with a seat on the top 
 for a driver. 
 
 "Dennis'll drive for ye, ma'am," says the plant 
 er. "I'll trust him with the team before I would 
 myself. Be ready at four o'clock in the morning; 
 reckon you all will want your time to drive y before 
 the heat o' the day comes on." 
 
 Next in order is a prayer-meeting, to pray for 
 our safe journey home. They pray for everything 
 we shall ever need, if we live a thousand years. 
 They remind Masser Jesus of all his promises. 
 
 "Lawd, don' ye say you'll stan' by dem as trusts 
 in ye? Cum right down yer now, Masser Jesus, an' 
 take a walk troo dis country, an' see what de debbil's 
 duin' in de kingdom. " 
 
 "Lawd, place blessings by de wayside fur our 
 teachers." 
 
 "Tote 'em safe down de stream o' time, Masser 
 Jesus, an' let de ole ship o' Zion Ian' 'em high up in 
 heaven, an' crown 'em dine." 
 
 "Lawd, plant 'em out anew fur de kingdom, an' 
 w'en dey can't do no mo', give 'em a happy hour tu 
 die, an' seat 'em at dy right hand in de jedgment;" 
 varying the exercises with songs, such as, 
 
 "Sinner, you'd better watch an' pray, 
 
 An' keep yo' garments clean, 
 Ef you don' mind you'll fall in hell, 
 
 An' judgment'll roll between." 
 
 A minister gives a short exhortation, wants all 
 
REV. K. D, 8. 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 4.9 
 
 to keep ready to meet the teachers in heaven, reads 
 the parable of the foolish virgins, says the virgins 
 must have had their lamps once lighted, or they 
 never could have gone out ! Says also, that back 
 sliders have got into the ignorant part of God's 
 glory! All are solemn and tearful; but the good- 
 by's can't be described. 
 
 Here is a boy we once saw drunk, lying in the 
 road, and his mother came and carried him away; 
 now he is a member of our temperance society. 
 Here are over a hundred, large and small, who have 
 joined the temperance society during the year, and 
 many give evidence that they have oassed from 
 death unto life. 
 
 "The carriage is ready, ma'am." The children 
 are giving us great bouquets, and some give us cakes 
 and candy, and the blacks almost push each other, 
 for the privilege of stowing our luggage. The 
 good-by's come between so'os and tears. Some reach 
 up to touch our hands, after we arc seated in the 
 carriage, and one calls out, "My God, is they gone!" 
 
 As we drive off, some one starts in the old 
 slavery wail, 
 
 "Zion's ship is on the ocean, 
 Zion's ship is on the ocean, 
 Zion's ship is on the ocean, 
 
 Bound for Canaan's happy shore." 
 
 Two things we have asked to be kept from dur 
 ing the year, are snakes and dogs. We see the first 
 snake just as we begin to see the sunrise; a large 
 black snake, near the road. It gets away speedily. 
 
 Three miles on our journey, and a halloo an- 
 
50 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMKN. 
 
 nounces to us that we are followed by one of our 
 young men scholars Robert, a young Methodist 
 Episcopal preacher, has determined to go North 
 with us to get an education. Some of the white peo 
 ple have found it out, and all night he has been hunted 
 by those who have threatened to kill him. He rides 
 a mule, has lost his hat, and left all his books and 
 most of his clothing behind. One of the teachers 
 pays his fare, and he comes on with us. 
 
 Jackson, Tennessee the end of our first day's 
 railroad travel. No trains have passed out of this 
 place for three days. There is a strike on the road. 
 Many passengers and trains are waiting. The 
 workmen claim they haven't had their pay for two 
 years, and as our train nears the depot, a committee 
 of three or four men loosen the engine, and run it 
 into an engine house near by. Two or three hun 
 dred of excited people are on the platform, and all is 
 confusion. 
 
 We go to the nearest hotel, and to another, and 
 another, but everywhere are refused a night's lodg 
 ing, or a meal of victuals. We go back to the train. 
 Evening: Lamps lighted in the cars. Passengers, 
 all but us, seem to have found some place for the 
 night. Soon we hear the familiar title, "nigger 
 teachers!" hissed out near us. The conductor tells 
 us there are soldiers on board the train, who have 
 come to guard the engines. He brings the head 
 officer of the staff to us; we show him the commis 
 sions of the American Missionary Association recom 
 mending us to the protection of the government, and 
 immediately we are under guard. Enter the post- 
 
HOME WARD BOUND. 51 
 
 master on the train a northern gentleman, lie tells 
 us the people of this place say they have never sur 
 rendered. Instantly he comprehends the situation. 
 Some outside are calling out our names. Pounding 
 on the cars, some one calls out, 
 
 "Miss W , Miss T , you'd better come 
 
 out. There's goin' to be a nigger killed!" 
 
 The soldiers raise the window, and threaten to 
 shoot the next man who moves his tongue- against us. 
 The postmaster, with his arms full of velvet cush 
 ions off the seats, followed by one or two colored 
 helpers, proceeds to fit up the postal car, and soon 
 orders our trunks into it, and we follow him out of 
 doors, and around to the end of the car. The mob 
 by this time has increased; but one soldier is behind 
 us, another near by, and the brave postmaster is fully 
 armed. He makes a way through the crowd, and 
 we are locked into our quarters among the mail 
 bags, and could sleep if we knew what had become 
 of Robert, and if the mercury was not up to 0,0, 
 and \\\ejleas 'would keep still. As it is, we hear the 
 mocking-birds and whip-poor-wills sing all night, 
 and the soldier's "who goes ?" if any one passes. Our 
 food is cooked at a cabin near by, and brought to us 
 by a colored girl. 
 
 Just at dark, the fifth day of our imprisonment, 
 a lady comes on board the train, guarded by a soldier. 
 She has heard of our situation, and comes to invite us 
 to spend the night with her, out in a house, half fall 
 en clown, where she lives alone. She is a teacher of 
 freedmen; has a pass from Governor Brownlow, to 
 go where she pleases, and pleases to stay in this 
 
52 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE KKEEDMEN. 
 
 place, because her only son, all she has left since the 
 war, is a soldier, and quartered here. 
 
 We thought we had seen poverty before, but 
 here is abject poverty no comforts in her room, no 
 Bible. Her education is so poor she can hardly talk 
 correctly. She tells us she has never studied gram 
 mar; wants us to spend the night with her, and help 
 net teach the school on the morrow. The woman, 
 in her endeavors to have us enjoy our prison life, 
 fairly outdoes herself; gives us her small couch, suit 
 able only for one person, finds a blanket or two 
 among the freedmen, brings in a lamp and a few 
 sticks, lights a fire, and asks us to read our Bibles 
 and have family worship. Together we read, and 
 draw water from the wells of salvation. God seems 
 so near we don't either fear or feel lonely. The 
 new-found friend rolls herself up in a blanket, 
 lays her loaded revolver by her pillow, and lies 
 on the floor at night, saying, "I've often done it 
 since that war," and gives us two teachers her bed. 
 Morning: Our food is provided by some of the freed 
 men a few biscuits, coffee, and milk. We eat in 
 singleness of heart, and are thankful. We have at 
 least found Christian companionship, and we go into 
 the school and teach for an hour or two; but soon a 
 colored man comes to inform us we are being fol 
 lowed and are unsafe, and we go back to our car 
 and remain another day under guard. 
 
 In the evening, a lady closely veiled, and guard 
 ed by a soldier, comes on the train to see us a 
 northern woman, bound for New York a sympa 
 thizer with us. She proposes a walk around the 
 fortifications. The next day, we three ladies, with a 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 53 
 
 soldier following not far from us, go out to view the 
 earth- works and rifle-pits; not as much to see the 
 lions, as to get fresh air. We are returning to our 
 train, but on the way, stop at the hotel where the 
 lady boards, and, for a few moments, rest in her 
 room. The proprietor of the hotel, very soon 
 knocks at the door, calls the lady into the hall, and 
 tells her he will not have us in his house; and if she 
 associates with nigger teachers, she must also leave 
 his house. He says we ought to marry niggers, and 
 quite a little more of that kind of talk. 
 
 We are now three ladies on the train, under 
 guard. For nine successive days and nights we 
 have endured the tropical heat, but our courage holds 
 out. Many have been on the train to see us, much 
 as we have seen animals exhibited in a menagerie. 
 Men and women have come in and passed through 
 the cars, looking at us, as if we were there for show. 
 To all who would accept them, we have given tracts, 
 and most of them go away reading. 
 
 Sunday morning: Everybody going to church 
 we think. A Methodist minister makes his appear 
 ance, bowing, and telling us who he is; points to his 
 house, not far away, and asks us if we will go home 
 with him and rest; or, if we would like to go to 
 church with his family, we are at liberty to do so. 
 He sits on the steps of the car, and talks of schools 
 for the people, both colored and white; wants to 
 know if we could send him teachers, and wants to 
 know how northern schools are taught, and many 
 other things we gladly tell him. Here, at last, is a 
 person who has the best sense of all, common 
 sense. 
 
54 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 He says, "The time is soon coming, madam, 
 when the North and South must forgive each other, 
 and we must have free schools and paid labor. The 
 white people South need to be emancipated from 
 wrong ideas about many things, on this school question 
 and work. Brotherly love and good-will ought to 
 be in all our borders, and he who won't be governed 
 by these principles, ought to be made to submit to 
 good laws, be they black or white. Slavery has 
 been like the deadly upas, in all our country, madam. 
 No man can domineer over his fellow, without it's 
 being an injury to himself. Free schools are to help 
 us out of this mixed question. We must have them. 
 Ladies, I am really sorry for your discomfort so 
 long in this close car; and if you will go to my 
 house, you shall be entirely safe and quite welcome." 
 
 We thank him, and decline his hospitality, pre 
 ferring not to run further risks. 
 
 As all things come to an end in time, on the 
 tenth day the strike is over. The train is about to 
 pull out, when our colored young preacher makes 
 his appearance. Some of the people have offered 
 him twenty-five dollars to leave the teachers and 
 stay with them ; but he prefers to continue his jour 
 ney northward, and is allowed to ride in the smoking- 
 car. Several hundred people are on the platform; 
 as th train is to move on, some attempt to open the 
 door, and find it locked. The soldiers are on duty, 
 and safely we leave the Jackson friends, to meet 
 them, perhaps, in another world. Who shall say 
 where? "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
 the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FROM CAIRO TO NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 We came by steam-boat from Cairo, Illinois, to 
 this southern city, ft distance of twelve hundred 
 miles by steamer; not so far by railroad. The 
 Mississippi river is so low, we heard a man say it 
 didn't look larger than a mill-race, and the pilot's 
 messenger, who measured the water very often, to 
 see if it was deep enough for the boat to pass, called 
 out, "Seven feet scant," one evening. Our boat was 
 a large one, with three decks. The lower deck was 
 like a floating barn, for there was a large quantity 
 of hay in it; also, about a hundred horses and mules, 
 and nearly fifty Germans or Swedes, apparently of 
 the very poor class. As they could understand 
 English, we had the pleasure of "going below," as 
 the captain said, who seemed astonished when we 
 asked him for the privilege. 
 
 "Four hundred barrels of lime are stowed down 
 there," said the captain, who politely helped us 
 
 55 
 
56 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 down, remarking, he "didn't see why we wanted to 
 git among them mules and their drivers." 
 
 We told him we were hunting jewels, and as he 
 saw our bundle of the American Tract Society am 
 munition^ he lifted his hat and said, "My mother 
 was a Christian." 
 
 After that we had the freedom of the boat, and 
 as we went to and fro, speaking to one and another 
 on the great question, "What must I do to be saved?" 
 we heard him saying to the mate of the boat: 
 
 "I don't know, but I think they're nigger 
 teachers, for every nigger on board lifts his hat to 
 'em." 
 
 Our big bundle of tracts diminished as the eager 
 hands reached out for them, and many a "God bless 
 you!" came from the people in the hold, who took 
 special care not to let the mules molest us. There 
 we saw mothers from Germany, going to their sens 
 in New Orleans, who had come to our free country 
 years ago, and out of their scanty earnings had paid 
 the fare of their parents to get them to America. 
 How scantily they were clothed, and how glad to 
 take tracts printed in the German language. There 
 were sisters going to the South to find brothers, who 
 thought their lives would be easier in a free country 
 than where a king ruled. 
 
 "The work is more plenty, ma'am, and pay bet 
 ter than in our country," said one. 
 
 As we came up on deck, two southern ladies 
 were talking to each other, and with r look of su 
 preme scorn, one picked up the trail of her dress and 
 shook it at us, the other spat towards us, but with 
 
FROM CAIRO TO NEW ORLEANS. 57 
 
 the joy of the Master almost bubbling into hallelu 
 jahs, we looked up and saw the American flag 
 waving at the forward end of the boat, and we knew 
 we were in a free country. 
 
 "Down here a lookin' after our niggers" said 
 the woman who had shaken her trail at us,(the trail 
 was of calico,)as we passed up. Soon one of us took 
 her seat at the piano, and we heard the mate say, "If 
 I had their edication I ivouldrft mind that" 
 
 When we arrived at Memphis it was Sabbath 
 evening, and we went on shore, and to church. In 
 the vestibule of the church was a running fountain 
 of pure cold water. A little girl was drinking as we 
 went in, and offered us glasses of water. We 
 thought it a lovely way to receive strangers. After 
 church, we went to our boat, and to our little state 
 rooms, opening out of the beautiful cabin, at one end 
 of which sat a number of men playing cards, with a 
 big black bottle, and two or three glasses on the ta 
 ble. We thought we could see "Beware!" printed 
 on the bottle, as we heard an oath from one of the 
 men. 
 
 While we were asleep, our boat started down 
 the river, and in the morning we saw only poplar 
 trees, with once in a while a lonely looking cabin, 
 with a few black children playing near it. 
 
 The children on the boat thought nine days a 
 long time to stay off the land, but soon had a half 
 day's recreation, for the wind blew such a gale, there 
 was danger of the waters blowing on the lower deck 
 and slaking the lime; so the captain stopped, and a 
 large party of men, women and children, went on 
 
58 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 shore to see a sugar plantation. Before we got to 
 the "fields where the sugar-cane grew," we saw 
 large trees full of pecans, the small brown nuts we 
 buy at the groceries at home. The planter who 
 came out to meet us told the children they could have 
 all they were a mind to pick up, and they filled pock 
 ets, and some of them hatfuls. The sugar house 
 was a long, low building, whitewashed inside and 
 outside, containing many deep vats in which to store 
 the juice of the sugar-cane; all very clean looking. 
 A little colored boy and girl were there, with hands 
 full of sugar-cane, cut in pieces as long as your fin 
 ger, out of which they sucked the juice, and also sup 
 plied us. Teddie declared it was as good as candy. 
 
 We went into the house of the planter, after he 
 had told his two big dogs to lie down, which they 
 did, and a tall black woman, with a reel handker 
 chief on her head, brought us glasses of milk on a 
 waiter. As we went back to the boat we passed 
 near the negro quarters, a long row of whitewashed 
 rough buildings. Many of the colored people stood 
 outside their doors, and some made bows to us, and 
 said, "How d'ye," the usual salutation for "How do 
 you do?" in the South. 
 
 When we got back to the boat, the polite plant 
 er had sent a box of pecans on board, for the chil 
 dren to crack at their leisure, and the little ones had a 
 fine time eating their sugar-cane, and cracking 
 pecans. 
 
 "How strange it is!" said a northern man; 
 "these southern people use such splendid manners, 
 and are so hospitable, but here it is six years after the 
 
FROM CAIRO TO NEW ORLEANS. 59 
 
 close of that horrid war, and if you attempt to teach 
 a colored person, they'll have nothing to do with 
 you, and wonder what you're down here interfering 
 with 'our niggers' for." 
 
 New Orleans: In the war of 1812 General Jack 
 son saved this city by piling cotton bales in a wall of 
 breastworks along the harbor, which were impervi 
 ous to British guns. 
 
 Our grandfather used to tell us when a big cot 
 ton merchant grumbled about their taking his cotton, 
 the general handed him a gun, and told him to go 
 and defend his cotton. ' 
 
 We judge from the cotton bales along the shore> 
 there is nothing doing in any other business. Each 
 cotton merchant has a small flag flying from his own 
 bales of cotton. All the flags are of a different color* 
 so the appearance is as of a hundred Fourth of July's. 
 
 Ships of all nations are lying in the harbor. 
 Colored people seem to be doing most of the work; 
 they are everywhere, trundling wheelbarrows, car 
 rying loads of things large enough for a mule, on 
 their heads. Here comes a tall woman, as black 
 as night, with a monstrous basket of ironed clothes, 
 balancing it on her head, and walking as straight as 
 a pine tree; colored women for nurses and for wash 
 women, for cooks and chamber-maids, for dress 
 makers and maids of all work. 
 
 This is a city of 168,000 people, we are told, and 
 by the number of sisters of charity we see in the 
 street, we wonder if they are all Catholics. The 
 nice little streams of water running each side of the 
 streets, are the work of a general in the war just 
 
60 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE F R T D ftl I K. 
 
 closed. Many thousands of inhabitants were glad 
 to get government employment, and they made these 
 sewers; so the general's works praise him, if the 
 people don't. 
 
 Orange trees are growing in the yards, laden 
 with fruit, and blossoms are on them too. We see 
 colored boys carrying trayfuls of brown-looking 
 fruit on their heads, and crying, "Here's your sweet 
 Jamaica oranges!" 
 
 The health officer tells us we can't go on to 
 Texas, as we expected, for the boats are in quaran 
 tine, because of yellow fever. 
 
 "Come home with me," says a kind-faced wom 
 an, whose acquaintance we have formed on the boat; 
 "my family have all had the fever, and I know how 
 to treat it. We have seen the time," she continued, 
 "when there were not well ones enough to take care 
 of the sick, and once when my nephew, husband, 
 and two children were sick, I went to the front gate 
 to see if I could find a watcher. The only person I 
 saw was an old colored man. 'How much will you 
 charge to watch to night, Uncle?' 'Five dollars, 
 ma'am.' It was the only chance I had for help. I 
 gave the directions about the medicines, and left him 
 with Harry. In the night I heard a tremendous 
 noise, and ran in. Harry had thrown a boot-jack at 
 his nurse to waken him. But the best of it was, we 
 all got well." 
 
 I forgot to mention that at Natchez there were 
 five persons sick with yellow fever, near the landing, 
 and seven had died the day before. At Vicksburg 
 the streets were strewed with lime, and fifty guns 
 
FROM CAIRO TO NEW ORLEANS. 6l 
 
 were fired every morning as sanitary measures. 
 
 A colored woman showed us a yellow fly which 
 always makes its appearance before the yellow fever 
 comes. 
 
 The sisters of charity have hospitals and nurses 
 trained to treat yellow fever patients, and we are 
 told their charges are often a hundred dollars per 
 week, but that they often raise their patients. 
 
UNCLE HABVBY. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THANKSGIVING AMONG THE BLACKS. 
 
 A large, barn-like church, whitewashed on the 
 outside, benches of rough boards, windows without 
 glass, and rough board shutters to admit the light; 
 colored people of all shades of complexion, from jet- 
 black, to flaxen-haired, rosy-cheeked little girls, with 
 blue eyes; but all pass for colored people. The 
 church is well filled, men sitting on one side, women 
 on the other, all singing with enthusiasm: 
 
 "I'm going down Jorden. 
 Going down Jorden, 
 Going down Jorden, 
 To never return again." 
 
 After the singing, a gray- haired black man, 
 born in Africa more than seventy years ago, begins 
 the sermon thus: 
 
 "Friends and fellow sinners! the powers dat be, 
 has invited us to jine in thanksgivin', an' we is mighty 
 glad to be able to respond ; for ef dere is a people 
 which has a right to be thankful, it is we poor, low- 
 
 63 
 
64 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FIlBlxMKN. 
 
 down 'uns, which aint neber had noffin' in dis world. 
 Bein' poor down here in dese low grounds ob sorrow, 
 don't cut me out ob a house and lot in heaben; an* 
 my house thar is made ob all manner ob jewelry dat 
 heaben can afford. De blessed Master, he was poor, 
 too, though he look his hand an' throwed out de 
 curtain ob de universe, he didn't hab whar to lay his 
 head. Let's all pack up an' go to glory! 
 
 "Bredren, I aint much time to tarry here. I's a 
 runnin' for de prize! When we git to dat heabenly 
 atmosphere, we'll sing de doxology for eber. Now 
 let ebery one of you all stop stealin', an' live as dis 
 free people ought to. How hard some of you work 
 to get land, an' property. Let me offer you a piece 
 ob land in glory! Is it a healthy country? Yes; 
 nobody ever dies thar. Bime-by, de great Master'll 
 say, *Gabriel! blow shrill and easy, an' wake up all 
 my people fust.' Den he'll say, 'Michael! tell my 
 people to step out on de right hand.' Den you'll 
 know which side you is on ; an' ef you is on de right 
 hand side, you'll play de golden harp ob de New Je 
 rusalem for eber. 
 
 "Bredren, less be thankful for what we has, an* 
 more 'specially for our freedom, an' live with 'specta- 
 tions ob de glorious home; an' lets tote our burdens 
 here a little longer, an' bime-by we'll set down wid 
 Paul, for he went to glory in de chariot ob salva 
 tion, de fore wheels a rollin' in de grace ob God, an' 
 de hind wheels a rollin' in love. 
 
 "De audience please rise an' sing, an' take de 
 partin' hand, an' be dismissed. 
 
 "Bredren, de text is 4 Be thankful.' Set your 
 
THANKSGIVING AMONG THE BLACKS. 65 
 
 minds on it, an' remember clis is an inquisition into 
 citizenship! 
 
 "De audience rise an' sing an' be dismissed: 
 
 " 'Roll, Jorden, roll; roll, Jorden, roll. 
 You'd better be sittin' in de kingdom, 
 To hear ole Jorden roll.' " 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 AUNT FANNY. 
 
 A woman field- hand used to getting up before 
 daylight, at the sound of the overseer's horn, cook 
 ing her breakfast of hoe-cake and bacon, the hoe- 
 cake made of corn meal and water, baked on a hoe, 
 taking the remnants of her breakfast into the field 
 for dinner, and with the heavy plantation hoe, falling 
 into line with the gang, one chained to another, leav 
 ing the baby with twenty other babies at a cabin, for 
 one woman to care for them, and marching off to the 
 field to hoe cotton or corn. 
 
 Now the field hand, at six dollars per month, 
 and her board, cooks for the northern teachers. Her 
 home is in a cabin in the rear of the school-mam's 
 home. Northern teachers are obliged to keep house 
 at the South mostly, as no one cares to board them. 
 
 The only thing Fanny can cook well, is corn 
 bread, but she learns to cook light bread, 
 cookies, and gems, and her former missus at the 
 big house gets a taste of her cookies, and 
 wants the receipt for them, also sends for the 
 
 66 
 
AUNT FANNY. 67 
 
 sack patterns the teachers wear, and wants 
 to know who made our hats. We gladly send her 
 the desired pattern, and tell Fanny to inform her old 
 missus we made our own hats. 
 
 Fanny reports, "de missus tanks ye all fur de 
 cookies, an' w'en I tell her ye made ye own hats 
 you'selves, she jes' cried, tu see dem ^-nigger teach 
 ers' gwine ahead o' she; an' she says people as 
 works is jes' as good as dem dat laze. An' Miss 
 Sallie wants tu know whar ye all get sich a heap o 7 
 larnin'?" 
 
 We inform Miss Sallie, through Fanny, that 
 our learning was mostly obtained at the free schools 
 at the North; that we had nothing to pay for it. 
 
 Again Fanny reports: 
 
 "Ye jes' ought tu see how she took on 'bout it; 
 dun said de free schools mout a been down yer tu, ef 
 it hadn't a been fur de leaders in dat war! Dey all 
 wrong, spite o' Stunwall Jackson's prayin' an' all de 
 rest on 'em. Free schools don' hurt white nur black, 
 an' she jes' 'gun tu see it. 'Spec's Miss Sallie's 
 wantin' tu cum tu de school herself, am shore." 
 
 Fanny learned to cook "right smart," as she 
 termed it, but spoiled all our morning naps, for, 
 "just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined," and 
 long before daylight, she would be up smoking her 
 cob pipe, and singing: 
 
 "Go down Moses, 
 
 Way down, to Pharioh's Ian', 
 
 Tell ole Pharioh, 
 
 'Let my people go,' " 
 
 or some plantation song. In vain did we try to 
 teach her that we must have our rest in the morning, 
 
68 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 as we taught night school, and we were unused to 
 rising before daylight. She would be hacking kind 
 lings under the house, which stood up five feet from 
 the ground, on sections of timber, or pounding 
 around at break of day. But Fanny was a diamond 
 in the rough; for after we had been home on a va 
 cation, and returned, she hastened to tell us she didn't 
 have no peace, "'til she found Masser Jesus, an' she 
 dun took him for her king, foreber." 
 
 Tally one for Jesus. Lord, polish this black 
 gem, until she shall shine in thy diadem forever. 
 "And they shall come from the east, and from the 
 west, and from the north, and from the south, and 
 shall sit down in the kingdom of God." -Luke xiii. 
 29. 
 
 RESURRECTION SONG. 
 "I hear my Jesus say, 
 'Father, these are mine 
 Coming up through great tribulation 
 
 From every grave-yard.' 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 
 From every grave-yard." 
 "In that judgment day, 
 I'll hear my Jesus say, 
 'Go down and wake my nations, 
 
 From every grave-yard.' 
 Oh, rise, every nation! 
 Oh, rise, every nation! 
 
 From every grave-yard. 
 "I'll see my mother there, 
 Who used to jine in prayer, 
 Coming up through great tribulation, 
 
 From every grave-yard. 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 
 From every grave-yard. 
 
AUNT FANNY. 69 
 
 "Put on your long white robe, 
 
 And wear the starry crown, 
 
 Walk up and down dem golden streets, 
 
 From every gra\e-yard. 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 Oh, just to behold that number! 
 
 From every grave-yard. 
 
 "Put on your silver slippers, 
 And wear the starry crown, 
 Come slippin' an' a elidin' dem golden streets, 
 Prom every grave-yard." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 TWO PICTURES. 
 
 "Ef you please, ma'am, de colonel done sent de 
 carriage fur ye, an' says come over to Sister Lucy's; 
 she'sjnighty bad off; done dropped a big lamp, and 
 burned herself most to def." 
 
 Black Sam stood, hat in hand, while a pair of 
 mules and a carriage were near by. A short ride 
 brought us to the hut of the poor woman, who was 
 moaning pitifully, while many colored women were 
 standing around, and a beautiful white woman was 
 fanning the sufferer, and intent on carrying out the 
 doctor's orders, who had just gone. Summoning a 
 colored girl to the next room, we asked, "Who is 
 this white lady, and why don't she read to Lucy ?" 
 
 "She's her ole missus, ma'am, lives in de big 
 white house over yon'; but she can't read." 
 
 With the sufferer groaning out prayers for 
 mercy, and the white missus plying her fan, and 
 giving the sympathy of her kind heart, and the room 
 
 70 
 
TWO PICTURES. 71 
 
 lined with colored women, who stood around the 
 wall like statues, we read as requested, "Let not 
 your heart be troubled," and wondered at the depth 
 of ignorance that could keep so good a missus from 
 learning to read. 
 
 Day after day we called to read at the bedside, 
 until death came to .the relief of the sufferer. 
 ********* 
 
 "Please, ma'am, come in and see Miss Annie, 
 and ask her tu let me go to your school ; come right 
 in; de dogs aint gwine tu touch ye." 
 
 She held the gate open, and drove back two or 
 three great hounds, that were barking at a deafen 
 ing rate. 
 
 On our way up the lane she explained to me, 
 "Missus clone keep me in slave times totin' milk, an' 
 pickin' cotton, an' now de black 'uns is free, an' 
 gwine tu de skule 'cept us 'uns, an' 'pears like we 
 hev tu tote all de milk, an' pick de cotton, an' work 
 jes' de same. Don' see no difference 'tween slave 
 times an' freedom; but honey, you jes' ax her tu let 
 we 'uns go tu cle Sunday-school, an' I reckun dere'll 
 be right smart chance o' us gettin' dere 'fore long." 
 
 Poor Chloe! we spoke a good word for her, 
 and obtained half a promise from the missus, who 
 kept her colored people, now that they worked for 
 wages, as strictly as when in slavery, that the eager 
 girl should go to school. But, alas! for human prom 
 ises. We never saw her except when she was 
 "totin' " milk to the customers of her mistress. 
 
 After vacation, on our return to the school, one 
 
73 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 said to us, "Chloe's dun gone home, an' she made 
 'em bury de nice Bible you gave her in de coffin wid 
 her, an' said you should meet her in heaven. Miss 
 Annie's mighty sorry she didn't let her go tu de 
 skule, an' she's mighty feared she'd see Chloe's 
 ghost, ef she didn't min' ebery word she said, an' 
 she hadde Bible buried wid her. Afore Chloe died 
 she sung, 
 
 " 'Swing low, sweet chariot, 
 Fs goin' to leave you now.' 
 
 "An' den she done went tu sleep, an' I reckon 
 Miss Annie's mighty sorry she didn't let her go tu 
 de Sunday-school, nohow." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LETTER WRITING. 
 
 "Ef you please, ma'am, yere's Aunt Cassie's 
 Tom wants tu git ye tu write a letter fur him tu his 
 sweetheart; he's feared tu ax ye, an' I jes' cum tu 
 tell ye 'bout it, so's he'll git tu hear from her; he 
 aint had no word from her sence de surrender, an' 
 he's feared she's gone hack on him for shore." 
 
 Tom, a field hand, "with his slouch hat in hand, 
 bowing, and scraping his right foot, until one would 
 think it was a queen, instead of Yankee school 
 ma'ams he is being introduced to, sits in the nearest 
 chair, in a scared kind of manner, and begins: 
 
 "A love letter, ma'am, an' I don't know jes' 
 how tu git at it; but 'pears like ye can't git it any tu 
 luvin'. You jes' write while I'm tellin' it off: 
 
 '"My Dear Tabitha Jane: I aint heered nothin' 
 frum ye in so long, I's feared ye is dead, an' I can't 
 keep my min' so's to eat my vittals, 'cos you didn't 
 send me no letter dis long time no ways. My dear 
 
 73 
 
74 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 sweet sugar-plum, I luvs ye better'n a magnolia, so 
 I duz. Ye know, honey, I luvs ye better'n corn- 
 pones.' 
 
 "An' well now, teacher, you jes' tell off de rest 
 on't, fur I 'druther hoe cotton, or tote brush 'n tu 
 write letters, bein' I aint nowise used tu de bizziness; 
 but be sure an' git it as luvin' as ye can. Aint no 
 danger o' gittin' it tu luviri 1 . 
 
 "Teecher, duz ye 'specs dis chile kin rite like 
 dat are ye's a doin'? An' what'll becum o' dese yer 
 people, wot nebber let us 1'arn nothin'? Dey done 
 kep' us a workin' day an' night, an' neber guv us a 
 chance tu larn nothin'!" 
 
 Here the young lover broke down, and actually 
 cried like a baby, to think he couldn't write, and 
 must needs get some one to write to Tabitha Jane, 
 away in another state, and must get some one to 
 read her letters to him. 
 
 In due time the letter was finished, though we 
 found this rather new business for teachers, and won 
 dered if the missionary society who sent us to work 
 for the freedmen, would approve of our writing love 
 letters. 
 
 Tom, with the promise of being taught how to 
 read and write, went away, and we heard him going 
 down the lane, singing: 
 
 "Way down upon de Swanee riber, 
 
 Far, far away, 
 Der's where my heart am turning eber, 
 
 Der's whar de ole folks stay." 
 
 It is Saturday, and no end to letter writing. 
 Here comes a real old slave mother, with marks of 
 sorrow so inwrought on her face, that instinctively 
 
LETTER WRITING. 
 
 75 
 
 we rise and give her a chair in the corner by the fire. 
 
 "Never min', ma'am," she says; "Aunt Suke 
 aint carin' where she sets, ef she gits ye tu write dis 
 lettah!" 
 
 She brings a sheet of dirty foolscap, and a big 
 yellow envelope. 
 
 "What's the address, ma'am?" 
 
 "Ellen Cummins; least dat ivas her name, w'en 
 dey dun toted her off to Florida." 
 
 "How long ago? And where shall I direct to, 
 Auntie?" 
 
 "Jes' Ellen, tu Florida, ma'am; dat's all I 
 knows. An' she was fo' yea's ole, w'en dey dun 
 took her from me. Twenty yea's ago, dey say it is, 
 ma'am. An' honey, duz ye t'ink I eber heered de 
 wind a blowin', an' de rain a fallin', w'en I didn't 
 wonder ef my chile wuz housed, an' whar she wuz?" 
 
 "Didn't you ever hear from her, Auntie? I fear 
 my letter won't reach her, if you don't know what 
 town and county to direct to." 
 
 "Dat's what dey all say; an' I don't git no satis 
 faction uv any o' de teachers, ivritin* tu her" \ and 
 the sorrowful woman began rocking herself from 
 side to side, and crying as if her heart would break. 
 
 This was too much for one of the teachers, who 
 rose from her seat at L the writing table, and left the 
 room. At length, after many kind words and sug 
 gestions, the letter was written, and directed to Flor 
 ida, with the half guessed address, and request that 
 the postmaster should forward it; and the auntie left* 
 after taking a cup of tea and lunch, with perhaps a 
 shade less of sorrow than when she came, but with 
 
76 SEVEN YEARS AMONG M11K I- K I : K DM I : N . 
 
 the longing look in her eyes, which for twenty years 
 had been looking for Ellen. 
 
 "Another letter?" 
 
 "Yes'm, ef you please. Dis yer's tu my brud- 
 der in ole Virginny. I's got de direction, shoo, an' 
 he aint heered from me sen' de surrender. Recken 
 he'll stan' a chance tu see me sum time, ef de good 
 Lawd spares my life. You please begin, ma'am 
 
 '"Dear Jack: I is well, an' duin' well, an' hope 
 dese few lines fin's you enjoy in' de same gre't blessin'. I's 
 mighty well pleased wid freedom, an' I find it means 
 freedom tu work a heap tu, an' I aint gwine back on 
 work by no means, an' I aint turned into one o' dem 
 triflin' no count niggers, as can't aim dere salt, an' 
 aint wuth a coon skin. I's mighty well pleased tu 
 git my eatin' by de 'sweat o' my face,' like de good 
 book sez, Genesis iii. 19; an' all I ax o' ole masser's 
 tu jes' keep he hands off o' de Lawd Almighty's 
 property, fur dafs me; an' I's gwine tu buy a lot, 
 an' build me a hut on it; an' den, Jack, you is 
 wanted down yere, tu see you' ole brudder. Fur de 
 last time he seed you, he wuz standin' on de auction 
 block, an' Mass'r Bill was a turnin' he round, like a 
 'possum on de spit, so's de driber'd see me fa'r an' 
 squar'. Neber min', Jack. I's try in' tu let by-gones 
 go, an' jes' look out fur number one; an' I's power 
 ful glad I's a free man now, for shore. Come a 
 Christmas, ef ye kin, Jack. Your free brudder, 
 
 Manuel.'" 
 
 For the satisfaction of the reader, we add, this 
 letter found Jack in Old Virginia, and he traveled 
 over eight hundred miles to spend Christmas with 
 
LETTER WRITING. 
 
 the brother from whom he parted at the auction 
 block, nearly twenty years before. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A BARBECUE. 
 
 Uncle Seth's going to roast an ox whole! He's 
 got a deep pit dug, and has just what grandmother 
 used to say when we put in too much wood, "fire 
 enough to roast an ox"; and he's got red pepper, and 
 black pepper, and vinegar, and stuff enough for a 
 small grocery. The colonel was a northern man 
 well educated, and a real Christian gentleman, in the 
 revenue employ for the goverment. He lived in a 
 fine brick mansion, where once lived a man who 
 owned four hundred slaves. Here northern teachers 
 found a home of comfort. Here for two years, we 
 rode to school in a northern market wagon, with 
 black Sam as driver of a pair of fine mules. Eman 
 cipation day was to be celebrated, and the colonel had 
 permitted the colored people to do the barbecue 
 work on his plantation, which was near the city. 
 
 Uncle Seth, an old colored man, had charge of 
 the barbecue, and sat up all night to keep the fire 
 
 7 s 
 
A BARBECUE. 79 
 
 burning. He built an arcn of stones over the pit, 
 and by means of much fire underneath the arch, 
 made the stones very hot, laid the meat on in quarters, 
 and cooked it,until those who were judges,pronounced 
 it u done to a turn." Swarms of colored children were 
 on hand to see the ox barbecued, and ever and anon, 
 Uncle Seth would order them off to the cabins, tell- 
 them he "hadn't no use for 'em." 
 
 After we had slept several hours, we rose to look 
 out of the window, and see the old man with his big 
 fire, and monstrous fork, attending to his cooking. 
 The meat was as black as ink, and had a flavor of 
 no other we ever tasted. 
 
 When the celebration came off, at the big town- 
 hall, Uncle Seth presided at the table, where the 
 meat was carved, with evident pride and satisfaction. 
 Here we saw many specimens of fine cake, and other 
 southern cookery, and altogether the patriotic songs 
 and speeches made it seem very like a Fourth of 
 July celebration at the North ; and what with banners 
 waving, and people marching, etc., it was a real red- 
 letter day to the colored race. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 UNCLE BILLY. 
 
 Four years after the close of the war, a Sun 
 day-school of a hundred and twenty colored people 
 in the state of Mississippi. We are singing "In the 
 Christian's home in glory," just as Uncle Billy, a 
 venerable-looking colored man, with his hat in hand, 
 stands bowing to us, and smiling at the scholars, who 
 all seem to know him. 
 
 "You're a little late," says one of the teachers to 
 him, "and didn't get in to hear the verses recited." 
 
 "Yes'm;but ye see, honey, I's dat 'shamed, tu 
 see all dese youngsters gittin' on so mighty fine in 
 der books, I's feared tu cum tu de skule much. If 
 ye please, ma'am, jest guv me one o' dem little pict- 
 ur papers, ye guv to de chillen, an' I'll git my boy 
 John tu read it tu me; an' I'll jes' larn right smart 
 from dat 'are; will shore. Ye see, ma'am, I's mor'n 
 fifty years old; an' dat's mor'n half a hundred, aint 
 it? An' it du seem as if it aint no sort o' use, fur me 
 
 80 
 
UNCLE BILLY. 8l 
 
 tu larn tu pick out dem letters, da all look alike tu me; 
 but ef I du say it, I can shoe a boss, as well as de heft 
 o' blacksmiths, but when it cums tu larnin' a book, I 
 aint no whar. 
 
 "Ef ye only knowed how we is sufferin' tu larn, 
 reckun ye all wouldn't get homesick tu go back tu 
 de Norf , till ye'd teached us a heap for shore. 
 
 "Ole missus used tu read de good book tu us, 
 black 'uns, on Sunday evenin's, but she mostly read 
 dem places whar it says, "Sarvints obey your masters," 
 an' didn't stop tu splane it like de teachers; an' now 
 we is free, dar's heaps o' tings in dat ole book, we is 
 jes' sufferin' tu larn. Ma'am, ye reckon larnin's 
 gwine tu make us onsatisfied an' onruly? Tell ye 
 dafs alia mistake, larnin' puts idees in people's heads, 
 an' makes 'em kinder satisfied 'bout what da is doin'; 
 an' ef dis ole sole kin in any way, jes' larn de readin' 
 lessons enough tu spell out de name ob good Massar 
 Jesus, den I's satisfied wid dis lower world, shore, an' 
 nobody don hear no more grumblin' from Uncle 
 Billy, 'til he gits home tu glory." 
 
 We gave the desired paper, and after the day's 
 toil went home with lighter hearts, as we thought of 
 the privilege of teaching those whose thirst for a 
 knowledge of the way of life, was so all-absorbing; 
 and ever and anon for days, we thought of the pleas 
 ure we should have of teaching Uncle Billy to read. 
 But alas! the time never came; for not long after his 
 visit to our Sunday-school, the Ku-Klux made a 
 raid into the town, and among a number who were 
 killed, Uncle Billy was the first one, and we left the 
 school and the place until the reign of terror was over; 
 
82 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 and as we came away, some one in speaking of the 
 death of many of our pupils, whose only crime was 
 that they were learning fast, and could vote intelli-. 
 gently, *aid, The martyrs are not all dead yet, are 
 they?" 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LAME JOE. 
 
 On Sabbath morning, we were sitting on the 
 piazza, sorting Sunday-school papers for the school 
 which was to begin that day, when Joe made his ap 
 pearance from the kitchen, coming along the porch 
 with a limping, shuffling gait; his only garments 
 were a shirt much too large for him, and minus one 
 sleeve, and a pair of pants so dirty one could scarcely 
 tell the material they were made of. He was a boy 
 of twelve, probably, and his pants were the cast-off 
 ones of his brother, a man in size, and hung in great 
 slouchy folds, and turned up at the bottom. 
 
 "Can you read, Joe?" said the teacher, passing a 
 paper to him. 
 
 "Not yit, ma'am; but Brother Ben can read 
 right smart, an' he's gwine tu teach me a heap o' 
 1'arnin', an' I reckon I's gwine tu 1'arn tu read dis 
 yer' sum time, shore." 
 
 Joe took his first lesson in learning by means of 
 
 83 
 
84 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 the word method, and limped off spelling the word 
 "so," and picking out all the so's in his paper. In a 
 few days we interviewed his mother, and broached 
 the subject of his going to school; but found the 
 chances were against him, for being the youngest of 
 ten children, there were so many to feed and clothe, 
 she never got to Joe, and he had to "tote wood an 1 
 water for her, when she cooked at de big house." 
 
 After repeated attempts at getting Joe started 
 in his education, one of the teachers set about clothing 
 the boy, but was soon put to her wits' end to find a 
 pattern for boy's pants, and as tailoring was not her 
 forte, there were obstacles to be overcome. Hap 
 pily a plan was hit upon, and Joe pulled off his di 
 lapidated pants and went to bed, while his new 
 clothes were cut by the use of the old ones for a pat 
 tern, and very soon the happy boy was a daily at 
 tendant at school. 
 
 A week or two of study passed, when the gen 
 tleman who had provided Joe with hat and book, ac 
 costed him with, "How do you get on, Joe?' 
 
 "Mighty well, thankee; done got past the pict 
 ure o' de ox; have, shore, done got past him.' 
 
 No pupil was more constant in attendance than 
 our protege, and with rapid strides he passed the 
 boys of his age, learning well whatever he studied ; 
 and in four years from the time he learned his word 
 on the piazza, we left him doing examples in higher 
 arithmetic, before a large audience of parents and 
 friends of education. 
 
 His mother, who could never get to Joe, was de 
 lighted. She said Joe had a stroke of paralysis when 
 
LAME JOE. 85 
 
 a baby, and he could never be a farmer, couldn't 
 walk well enough to hoe, or plow and his education 
 would make him independent. 
 
 Many of our pupils in that school came to the 
 Good Shepherd, and told of their joy in the Saviour; 
 but Joe was so engrossed with study, nothing seemed 
 to move him, and we left him a little saddened that 
 he was, as he expressed it, "in the outstanding 
 army." 
 
 This summer while the yellow fever prevailed 
 came a letter from Joe, saying he had found Jesus 
 and taken him for the Captain of his salvation; and 
 now he loved everybody, and his teachers better than 
 ever, and amidst all the fever he wasn't afraid. 
 
 Later: The last we heard of Joe he was teach 
 ing a school at forty dollars per month, and in a fair 
 way to be one of the prominent educators of his 
 race. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 INCIDENTS. WRITTEN IN KLOOF). 
 
 "Right this way ; take a good look at that man 
 passing; there isn't another just like him in in these 
 parts, ma'am," said the colonel. 
 
 Just after the close of the war, he wrote a pledge 
 for his only daughter, a girl of sixteen, pledging her 
 never to marry a Yankee, and opened a vein on her 
 arm, and persuaded her to sign it with her own 
 blood. 
 
 * * * * * . * 
 
 "The fathers have eaten sour ^rapi-s, and llm children's 
 
 trrth are sot on edge." Eze. xviii. 2. 
 
 SHOUTING AUNT CHLOE. 
 
 A colored woman past seventy always at the 
 prayer meetings always shouting happy rras but 
 one eye, because at a prayer meeting, when she was 
 jumping and clapping her hands, she came down on 
 a chair post, and put one eye out. No one would 
 
 S6 
 
SHOUTING .AUNT CHLOE. 87 
 
 think Aunt Chloe ever missed her eye, or anything 
 else. Clad in poor homespun goods, with an old 
 green sun-bonnet on her head, she is always shouting, 
 or jumping, or praising Massar Jesus. Her life is 
 always tuned to hallelujah meter. She gives us her 
 version of the surrender, as most of the blacks call 
 emancipation. 
 
 "Honey, whar ye s'pose I wus when Sherman's 
 army dun cum troodese parts? S'pose I'se skeered? 
 No, sir! we all heered dey's cumnin' weeks 'afo' dey 
 dun cum, an' de overseer he kept slappin' roun' an' 
 crackin' de lash. S'pose Is'e af eared o' he? He tell 
 'em, go on pickin' de cotton. I jes' picked a little, 
 an' den I got down under the bush, an' kep' a pray- 
 in' 'Massar Jesus, send de Liricum army down yer! 
 Send 'em down yer, good Lawd!' An' wen cley all 
 cum, tie balance o'de white 'uns, wot hadn't took tu 
 de swamps, dey jes' pint fer de woods; an' de black 
 'uns da brake fur de quarters; but Is'e on top o' a 
 pine stub, ten feet high, an' Is'e jes' shoutin' 4 Glory 
 tu God! take me wid ye! Glory to God! Glory 
 Glory !' 
 
 An' now my chillens dun growed up, an' dey 
 aims a bite fur de ole mammy, so's I aint spectin' tu 
 starve, an' Is'e satisfide wid freedum; don' have no 
 trouble in dis world, only 'caus sinners don' turn tu 
 Jesus. 
 
 I totes mo'ners in my bosom ebery day! An' 
 praise de good Lawd, Is'e gittin' on right smart inde 
 Sunday-skule ; am shore." 
 
 Aunt Chloe went on to her cabin singing, 
 
88 SKVKN YEARS AMONG THE 1 Ri:i D\il \. 
 
 "We'll walk an' talk with Jesus, 
 
 We'll walk an' talk with Jesus, 
 
 So early in the morning. 
 
 Hope I'll jine the band." 
 
 PRAYED THROUGH AT LAST. 
 
 John was picked up by a teacher, near a battle 
 field, and brought to one of the first Freedmen schools 
 in the city. From exposure, and being half starved, 
 he had contracted pneumonia. He was cared for by 
 the teacher till he recovered, and subsequently was 
 employed as a chore-man for some years, at Emerson 
 Institute, Mobile. 
 
 One day he came to one of the teachers, saying 
 he wanted to be taught a prayer; all the scholars had 
 a prayer to say, and he wanted one. John was past mid 
 dle life, and was never endowed with much sense, in 
 fact was almost an idiot. The teacher began with the 
 Lord's Prayer, teaching a sentence at a time, slowly, 
 and explaining as the lesson progressed. "Thy king 
 dom come," was learned, and when she gave out the 
 sentence, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our 
 debtors." 
 
 "What 'dat mean?" said the pupil. 
 
 "That you must forgive everybody, or God will 
 not forgive you." 
 
 "Stop teacher, can't do dat," said John, and 
 went his way. 
 
 After vacation our pupil made his appearance, 
 saying, "Now, go on wid de prayer. I dun forgive 
 him. Ole massar dun give me five hundred lashes, 
 an' den hit me wid a crow bar, an' trow me out fur 
 
PRAYED THROUGH AT LAST. 89 
 
 dead, an' I met him on de street, an' wouldn't speak 
 at him; but to-day I met him, an' I said 'How d' ye'! 
 Now go on wid dat prayer." 
 
 THE UNIFORM OF THE KU-KLUX. 
 
 The soldiers who are guarding this town have 
 had a squabble with a Ku-Klux-Klan, and captured 
 some of their uniform ; went with several teachers 
 to see the uniform this evening a sack of black, 
 the yoke striped with white; pants of black muslin 
 with a stripe of white down the side; the mask of 
 white for the head, of the same material as the sack ; 
 holes for the eyes and mouth trimmed with black. 
 The disguise for the horse was of the same material 
 as the man's, with a large white star in the forehead. 
 
 THE SLAVE PEN. 
 
 It was a long, low building, a mile and a half 
 from the city, built of heavy plank and containing 
 no windows. Two colored families were living in 
 it. A white-haired colored man said, he shouldn't 
 live in it if he could get anywhere else to live. On 
 the outside of the building hung the year's crop of 
 tobacco, in the process of drying. Large green 
 worms, the size of one's finger were crawling over 
 it, which the colored man said were the tobacco 
 worm. It was a forbidding-looking place, and with 
 in sight of it, were three whisky saloons. 
 
 "Thus saith the Lord; * * * deliver him th** is 
 spoiled out of the hand of the oppressor, lest my fury 
 go out like fire, and burn that none can quench it, 
 because of the evil of your doings." Jer. xxi. 12. 
 
pO SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 A PUPIL DRUNK. 
 
 Teacher on the platform, a large class in reading 
 standing before her, each one reading as his turn 
 comers. Hiram, a large boy of fifteen, begins to read, 
 hesitates, drops his book, begins to stagger, and but 
 for the help of a school-mate, would fall before he 
 gets to his seat. The boy's father has given him 
 cherry brandy, and he is drunk. 
 
 A COSTLY BURIAL. 
 
 A log cabin with a stick chimney, sticks laid up 
 in mud; cabin so old and open a dog might come 
 through the broken places; a colored woman and 
 three children living in it. The owner of the hut 
 has given the woman notice to leave the next day, 
 because she cannot pay the rent. Her sister's dead 
 body lies in one corner of the room, awaiting burial. 
 A white sheet is thrown over the corpse, and sprigs 
 of evergreen are pinned on it. She shows us the 
 face of her sister, looking peaceful in her last long 
 sleep. The hands of the sleeper have costly white 
 gloves on them, the cost of which might pay the 
 house rent for some time, but the afflicted sister has 
 imitated the white people, and followed the custom. 
 of putting gloves on the dead, we have seen so often 
 in the South. 
 
 ONE ELECTION DAY. 
 
 The colored voters met at their church, and 
 went to the polls preceded by a band of music. The 
 
ONE ELECTION DAY. 9! 
 
 colored women formed a line of one hundred or more, 
 and ran up and down near the line of voters, saying, 
 
 "Now, Sandy, ef you don'vote de radical ticket 
 I won't live wid ye." 
 
 "Now, Jack, ef you don' vote for Lincum's men 
 I'll leave ye." 
 
 As the blacks came near the place for voting, 
 the democrats came out with their tickets, and 
 bought the votes of several. One man sold his vote 
 for a suit of clothes; one sold his for a gallon of 
 whisky. The democrats declared they would have 
 gained the day, if it hadn't been for the women. 
 
 The noise and the unfairness in voting seemed 
 more like an Indian pow-wow, than like intelligent 
 American citizens making laws; and some one said, 
 rather than have such a farce going on, it would be 
 wiser for the government to keep a standing army, 
 as they do on the continent. 
 
 At this election the republicans gained the vic 
 tory, and in a few days the colored school was told 
 that General Grant was elected president. The whole 
 school rose and sang the doxology. 
 
 THE DISGUSTED CHURCH MEMBER. 
 
 A large Presbyterian church South, in a town 
 of twelve thousand inhabitants, doctor of divinity in 
 the pulpit, gold-headed cane, black kid gloves, white 
 neck-tie, dignity and gentlemanly bearing in the 
 doctor's make-up. The session of the church are at 
 the front, also two northern teachers, who have just 
 handed in their letters to the church, given them by 
 a northern Presbyterian church, recommending them 
 
92 SKVKN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 to the fellowship of any sister church South. The 
 minister has read the letters, and the session, also in 
 black kids, and well dressed, have given to the 
 teachers the right hand of fellowship. 
 
 The teachers are in one end of a front pew, and 
 a white lady sits in the opposite end of the pew. 
 There is a little flurry in the seat, as the white sister 
 in the pew rises in great haste, gathers her skirts 
 close in her hands for fear of touching the teachers, 
 flings herself out into the aisle, and takes a seat alone. 
 The doctor stops the talk he is giving them, but di 
 rectly goes on, telling his flock he has just returned 
 from an extensive tour among the northern cities, 
 and that the Presbyterian friends at the North have 
 promised him help to re-build their church, which 
 has been somewhat defaced during the war, and 
 reads the hymn for morning service. The choir 
 immediately begin singing. The chorus of the hymn 
 is, 
 
 "Hallelujah to Jesus! 
 
 Who purchased our pardon, 
 We'll praise him again, 
 
 When we pass over Jordan." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 METHODIST FLEAS, BAPTIST RATS. 
 
 "There's a clinch on the play -ground, ma'am, 
 an' ef you don' cum quick, dey'll tear dare eyes out," 
 says a little colored girl in breathless haste, running 
 to a teacher. 
 
 Straightway the Michigan teacher collars a 
 large boy of her department, and marches him into 
 the school-room, and the Illinois teacher marches her 
 pupils off the play-ground, and in a moment the 
 school-bell rings, and all fall into line and are seated 
 in the chapel. 
 
 An Irishman is driving a pair of oxen in the 
 road, near by; he stops his team, and with his great 
 whip in his hand, stands waiting to see the tussle. 
 
 Over a hundred scholars are on the ground, 
 many of them large ones, but they wait the teachers' 
 orders. It is the public school, taught in a large 
 building, with upper and lower departments. The 
 fight has been so severe, and so many are engaged 
 
 93 
 
9} SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKKKDMKN. 
 
 in it, the whole school is called together. The five 
 teachers are on the platform, one playing the organ, 
 and the scholars sing with a will. When the song 
 is done, the scholars repeat in concert after the 
 teacher, 
 
 "Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 
 
 For God hath made them so. 
 Let bears and lions growl and fight, 
 
 For 'tis their nature, too. 
 
 "But, children, you should never let 
 
 Your angry passions rise: 
 Your little hands were never made 
 
 To tear each other's eyes." 
 
 After quiet is restored, the scholars are allowed 
 to give their testimony about the fighting. One 
 says, 
 
 "Ye see, ma'am, we wuz hangin' Jeff, an' we 
 had jes' got troo de song, 
 
 " 'We'll hang Jeff Davis tu de sour apple tree, 
 As we go marchin' 'long,' 
 
 an' we dun had de rope on Jeff, an' had him mos' 
 hung, an' dat yaller gal cum 'long an' guv him a h'ist, 
 an' den de wah was in, an' I couldn't stan' bein' 
 called a rat." 
 
 Explanation: There were two churches, both 
 containing many members, and sectarianism was so 
 rampant, the common terms they called each other, 
 were "Methodist fleas, Baptist rats"; this among the 
 parents, and what wonder the children were tinct 
 ured with a sectarian spirit. 
 
 We shamed them thoroughly; and after there 
 had been quite a revival among the people, old Uncle 
 Manuel one day said, 
 
 "I see you teachers, five or six of ye, b'longs tu 
 
METHODIST FLEAS. BAPTIST RATS. 95 
 
 different 'nominations, an' I don' see ye fall out 'bout 
 it either, an' sum on ye I don' jes' know what church 
 ye duz belong tu, an* I's 1'arned a lesson. I reckon 
 it'll all be de same church in heaven." After that, 
 we heard no more of "Methodist fleas, and Baptist 
 rats." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 DECORATION DA* IN MOBILE. 
 
 Thousands of people throng the cemetery. The 
 graves of the union soldiers are just in sight of those 
 of the southern army. The long rows of dead are 
 buried, and each grave is marked with a whiteboard, 
 in imitation of a marble slab. The names are in 
 black letters. Most of them have name, company, 
 and regiment. Some are marked unknown. Near 
 the center of the union cemetery, is a large mound, 
 surmounted by a flag-staff. Near by the mound is 
 a small house, for the keeper of the grounds, whose 
 business it is to show visitors through the grounds, 
 and to keep the American flag always on the flag 
 staff. 
 
 We allow scholars who wish to go to see 
 the decoration. The next day, we ask a little colored 
 girl about it, she says: 
 
 "Yes; I went to tote flowers; a white lady dun 
 guv me a heap o' flowers to put on de graves, but I 
 dun put 'em on de Tank's graves ! 
 
DECORATION DAY IN MOBILE. 97 
 
 'Twas Decoration Day; 
 
 Fax on a southern plain, 
 I walked amid the graves, 
 
 Of many thousand slain. 
 
 Bare trailing vines, and flowers, 
 
 Decked all the Rebel dead; 
 ' Songs filled the balmy air, 
 
 And sorrowing tears were shed. 
 
 Close by my side, a child, 
 
 Of Africa's sable race, 
 With arms brimful of flowers, 
 
 And childhood's happy face. 
 
 Humming a loyal song, 
 
 Among the ranks of dead, 
 Stopped near five hundred graves, 
 
 "Dese Norveners," she said. 
 
 I watched the dusky child, 
 
 Humming the John Brown song, 
 
 While hundreds strewed their flowers, 
 Amid the silent throng. 
 
 What brings her here? I mused; 
 
 Her choicest flowers she saves, 
 "Why, ma'am, I strow dese flowers, 
 
 Upon dem Yankees* graves." 
 
 DECORATION DAY AGAIN. 
 
 Long lines of ladies, accompanied by colored 
 servants, pass near the school-house to a cemetery a 
 hundred yards away. Their arms are full of garlands, 
 and baskets of flowers. The colored school is eut 
 at recess. One of the teachers puts her head out of 
 a recitation room, and says, "The scholars are sing 
 ing? 
 
 " 'John Brown's body lies moldering in the grave, 
 But his soul is marching on.' " 
 
 Instantly the school-bell is rung, and the pupils, 
 
98 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMBN. 
 
 over a hundred of them, march relunctantly into the 
 house, and totheirseats. A lecture from the teacher, 
 who tells them we must respect the feelings of peo 
 ple, when they go to the graves of friends; that this 
 school is trying to work by the golden rule, and she 
 hopes after this they will remember to do as they 
 would be done by, and begins singing a temperance 
 song, in which the school join with a will, all but a 
 few boys of ten or twelve; they are putting some 
 thing under their desks. They have stones picked 
 up, they were just ready to throw at the decorating 
 procession, and one of them growls out "Rebs" We 
 have just escaped a small rebellion, and are thankful. 
 
FRIENDS WHO STOOD BY US. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 INCIDENTS. 
 
 Of the many aged ones, who came, some of 
 them many miles, to hear us read and explain the 
 Scriptures, we mention one a very stout, and very 
 old colored woman; her hair white with age. She is 
 carried up the stairs by two of her sons, stout men. 
 We suppose she has come for clothing, as we have 
 many garments, sent by northern friends to give 
 away. One woman says she rode a mule twenty- 
 one miles, all for a pair of spectacles. But this aged 
 one comes for a different purpose. She begins her 
 story thus: 
 
 "Honey, I's dun had a vision las' night, an' I 
 aint a wantin' nothin', only tu hear de good book 
 read. I's seen de ribber, an' de long golden street, 
 an' I seed Jesus, an' he tell me it's in a book, an' I's 
 hungry to hear it. Read quick, now, honey." 
 
 "And he shewed me a pure river of water of 
 100 
 
INCIDENTS. 101 
 
 life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of 
 God and of the Lamb." 
 
 "Yes; dat's it! I's seen #, an' dat's whar it tells 
 ob it, in de good Book: I's got it in hea'," putting 
 her hand on her breast; "go on, oh ! go on." 
 
 "In the midst of the streets of it, and on either 
 side of the river, was there the tree of life, which 
 bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit 
 every month : and the leaves of the tree were for the 
 healing of the nations." 
 
 "Yes; I seed de tree dar ; what dat 'mean, honey ? 
 You 'splane dat". 
 
 "Some think it means the fruits of the Spirit 
 love, joy, peace, holiness, truth, salvation; and aunty, 
 some think it means the books, and tracts, and hymns, 
 we all have, What do you think it means? 
 
 "Oh ! I aint a saying, honey. I see*d the tree, an' 
 de ribber, an' Jesus done turned de hull ribber down 
 troo my ole soul, an' den I jes' shouted, till I woke 
 'em all up; but dey's got so used to my shoutin', dey 
 don' pester me, I jes' shouts, mostly like de springs 
 o' water, natiral like, an* cant help it. Go on. I'se 
 so hungry fu* dat readin', I ain't wantin' tings tu 
 war, or tu eat; I jes' wantin' tu hear de good Book." 
 
 "And there shall be no more curse: but the 
 throne of God, and of the Lamb shall be in it; and 
 his servants shall serve him: and they shall see his 
 face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And 
 there shall be no night there; and they need no can 
 dle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth 
 them light, and they shall reign for ever and ever." 
 
K>J SEVEN YKAKS AMONG THE FREEDMBN. 
 
 "Yes, that's it again. It's gwine tu be furcver. 
 Is'e gwine tu be dar! In tint kiugdum, houev, dee 
 hcnps o' tings Is'e gwine tu tell Masser Jesus. An' 
 you all is one on 'em, in cle kingtlum. I sees it in yo' 
 face, honey. I sees it arter tlcy poo' bodies is all still 
 an' cold, an' I kin jes' tell by tie 'spressions ob de 
 countenance, ef dey has de kingdom in dere souls; 
 don' you all b'leve dnt?" 
 
 "Yes; but you can't alwnys tell a Christian by 
 the joy-look in his face. 'Ye must be born again,' 
 said Jesus, 'or ye cannot see the kingdom of God.' 
 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' The actions 
 are the fruits. If you steal and lie, get drunk, and 
 commit adultery, you are not a Christian, if you do 
 shout." 
 
 "Yes, honey, I know, dat's so shore, but de well ; 
 aint it in de book? 'Bout de well in us? Read it. 
 Is'e so hungry to hear it out o' de good Book. John 
 iv. 14: "But whosoever drinketh of *.he water that I 
 shall give him, shall never thirst; but the water that 
 I shall give him shall be in him a well of water spring 
 ing up into everlasting life." 
 
 "Yes; a well! An 1 7V got it ! An' itVlike a 
 sheep wid a tail so long dar aint no end tu it; /.*> 
 got if I De ribber, an' de well, an' all! Good-bv, 
 honey! Boys, tote me down the steps. IsY euinin 
 in tu yo' preachin' agin, honey! Bress de good 
 Lawd!" 
 
AMOR Cj, A PROMISING PUPIL. 
 
 JO" 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A FREEDMEN SCHOOL CALLING THE ROLL. 
 
 George Washington? Here. 
 
 John Adams? Present. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln? Present. 
 
 James Madison? Present. 
 
 Jefferson Davis? Here. 
 
 Daniel Webster? Here. 
 
 Samuel Lee? Present. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin? Here. 
 
 Henry Clay? Present. 
 
 Noah Hatch? Here. 
 
 James Jackson? Here. 
 
 Margaret Mitchell? Present. 
 
 Martha Washington. Here. 
 
 Virginia Lee? Here. 
 
 Two hundred and fifty scholars, of all shades of 
 complexion, and of all ages, from five to seventy- 
 five, the roll-call goes on until representatives of the 
 names of many of the presidents and eminent 
 
 104 
 
A FREEDMEN SCHOOL. IO5 
 
 statesmen, are found to be studying in the "nigger 
 school" and with arms folded, and in order in their 
 school desks, that have been sent from the North, 
 for the school, they answer "present!" at the call of 
 their names. A building one hundred and fifty feet 
 long, built twenty years ago for a boy's school in 
 Mississippi this is a high school. Yonder is a flax 
 en-haired mulatto girl studying out of the same book 
 with a middle-aged woman, as black as midnight; 
 here is a gray-haired man who has been the slave of 
 an ex-general, trying to master the alphabet. We 
 accost him with the usual salutation in the South 
 "How d'ye, Uncle? Is this your first chance at 
 school, and how do you get on?" 
 
 "Mighty well, thankee, ma'am. Yes'm; dis yer's 
 de bery fust 'pertunity I's had fur book Parnin', an' 
 I's jammed nigh onter a hundred years." 
 
 There sits a father and his little five year old 
 child, studying out of the same book. 
 
 Recess and the two hundred and fifty scholars 
 file out into the yard, each carrying his lunch, con 
 sisting of corn bread, sweet potatoes, and a bottle of 
 molasses, or one of buttermilk, one of the universal 
 drinks at the South, and very good for the health in 
 that climate. Here is the hoe-cake, made of corn 
 meal, water, and a little salt, and baked the size of a 
 large dinner plate in a skillet, and there is a bit of 
 a corn loaf with rice in it. The best cooks in the 
 land have made this bread, and baked it by fire 
 places, as did our great-grandmothers over a hundred 
 years ago. The bread is fit for a king, but the use 
 of so much bacon, and so much swine's grease in 
 nearly all the cookery,, spoils it for us. 
 
IO6 SEVEN YEARS AMONC TIIK FREEDMEN. 
 
 The corn meal of the South is as fine as flour, 
 and of a much nicer quality than we have seen man 
 ufactured at the North, and this hoc-cake, which 
 takes its name from the haste in which the slaves 
 used to bake it upon their hoes, is a favorite bread 
 for breakfast on the tables of both rich and poor. 
 
 The five teachers are on the platform, and 
 scholars singing a temperance song, when visitor? 
 are announced a poor white woman and her little 
 girl. The mother, and child of ten years, are both 
 dressed in coarse cotton cloth, made by the poorest 
 of the people, and colored with the bark of trees. 
 Neither of them have any covering for head or feet. 
 They cannot read a word, and don't know what 
 county they live in. The woman has a bag with 
 some mustard leaves in, she wishes to sell to the 
 teachers for greens. Her words are so drawled out, 
 we can only understand her by giving the closest at 
 tention. She represents a class of many thousands 
 at the South, ranking far below the negro in point of 
 thrift or intelligence. Some of them eat clay, and 
 are called clay-eaters. They appear to be descend 
 ants of the Spanish race, and never mingle with the 
 negro: are a class distinct, both from whites and 
 blacks. They invariably use tobacco; men, women 
 and children chew it, or dip. 
 
 The woman accosts us thus: "M-o-r-n-i-n', 
 m-a-r-m. Du ye bile a pot? Have a snack o' greens? 
 Take tea fur 'em, or any notion ye hev; haint seen 
 no tea in a dorg's age. Ye needn't pay de sponju- 
 leps," meaning money. 
 
 "Ye's got a right smart skule yere, a mighty 
 
A FREEDMEN SCHOOL. 
 
 1O7 
 
 sight o' niggers! Drefful pert, tu; orter be teeched. 
 'Tante no sin tu teech 'em tu reed, but dey's niggers, 
 an' ye must keep 'em under; min* an 1 keep ''em 
 under" 
 
 "Can you read, madam, and will you take a 
 Testament?" says a teacher to her. 
 
 "A Terstament? What is it?" 
 
 "A part of the Bible ma'am. Shall I write 
 your name in it?" 
 
 "Yas. De Bible? I know what 'tis; my father 
 had one onct! Write its name in it," meaning the 
 child. "She don 1 go tu no skule. You all cum 
 down yer' an' leech dese black 'tins, but who'll teech 
 my chillen? Dey needs tu Farn tu reedtu" 
 
 "Can't your little girl come to Sunday- 
 school?" 
 
 "Wai, no marm; she could if 'twa'n't fur her 
 he'd an' feet; haint no hat an' no shuse. Reckon 
 'taint no use fur we 'tins tu 1'arn. Dat book tells de 
 wurld's gwine tu be burnt up, an' tells 'bout de 
 jedgement day, don' it? Du ye reckun we'll be in 
 de same he'ven wid you all as can rede? an' what'll 
 be dun tu dese yer rich 'uns, as keep de 'nolege away 
 from us 'uns? Reckun de jedgement day'll set that 
 all right?" 
 
 The woman and child both had dip-sticks in 
 their mouths, and the tobacco juice was running 
 down at the corners of their mouths, and altogether 
 the squalor and filth of their appearance was in 
 describable. "Poo' white trash," whispered a young 
 black boy, with a look of contempt, who came to 
 show them up to the platform. 
 
loS SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE J KK K DM K.N ;. 
 
 The greens exchanged for tea, the woman began 
 a series of rising on her toes, and coming down on 
 her heels, called in olden times courtesying, which 
 lasted until she reached the door, but came back to 
 tell us, 
 
 "Yer's is a mighty fine skule, an' 'taint no sin tu 
 teech 'em; dey orfcr be tccchcd : but dey's niggers 
 an' ye must min' an' keep 'em under, ma 'am ; 
 an* keep ''em under /" 
 
A FREEDMEN SCHOOL. 
 
 109 
 
 The writing scholars were allowed to write little 
 letters to the teachers, all sealed and ready to post, to 
 teach them how to write. The little girl whose pict 
 ure appears above, wrote: 
 
 "Dear Teacher, I love the school and to study and learn, 
 and I have learned to love my Saviour since this school began. 
 Yes, poor little Joyce has learned to love you and Jesus." 
 Affectionately, your pupil, 
 
 Joyce Turner." 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 C'AKI'KT 
 
 A northern man living south, with :in 
 under the United States goverment. 
 
 "The doctor thinks Mrs. W. can't live until 
 morning,*' said the colonel; will you go to her? She 
 has lived all summer in the pi. ice, and been visited by 
 none of her neighbors; members of the same church 
 to which she belongs have staid as much a\vav from 
 her, as though she were a mad dog." 
 
 A ride of a mile, and we are at the bedside of 
 the sufferer, who moans in her delirium, and calls for 
 her mother. On opening her eves she thinks the 
 northern teacher is her mother, and smiles, saying, 
 "I thought you'd come." 
 
 For two days and nights, we watch the sick one, 
 helping the patient doctor fight rnalari.il fever. 
 
 At the end of the second clay, as we look into 
 the doctor's face for hope, he shakes his head, and 
 says, "She will die to-night!" The doctor seemed a 
 
 IIO 
 
CARPET BAGGERS. Ill 
 
 gentleman and a Christian. The tears stood in his 
 eyes, as he heard the sufferer call for her mother. 
 
 Before morning, gleams of intelligence dawned 
 :n the mind of the sick one, and she said, "I thought 
 you were mother; you're the teacher. Will I get 
 well? and why don't mother come?" 
 
 "If she don't come, what shall I tell her," said 
 the watcher, "and will it be all right if you don't get 
 well?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! Jesus is with me, and tell mother I 
 thought of her, and loved her just as well as ever." 
 
 Again the languid eyes closed, and when she 
 awoke from the next sleep, the fever and delirium 
 were on her again, and soon, as the doctor had pre 
 dicted, she went into an unconscious state, and ere 
 sunrise was sleeping the sleep that knows no wak 
 ing, until the morning of the resurrection. 
 
 "On India's plains, by Lapland's snows, 
 Believers find the same repose." 
 
 There were present at the death bed, the 
 husband, the colonel, the doctor, Aunt Caroline, an 
 old colored woman, and the teacher; also by this time 
 the white neighbors, who lived many of them very 
 near, began to come in, and sit around the outside of 
 the room, until the room was nearly full of them. 
 
 One said to another, "We'd have come in before, 
 if we'd have known it." 
 
 As the sufferer breathed her last sigh, the 
 colonel fell on his knees, and said, "Let us pray," and 
 poured out a prayer for the afflicted husband, and the 
 stricken mother, so far away. 
 
 The southern women helped lay the cold form 
 
112 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 in the casket, after putting on the best dress they 
 could find in the woman's wardrobe, and all the 
 Jewelry she had, putting her rings over her white 
 gloves, and placing the infant child, which like a 
 morning dew-drop had opened its eyes in this world, 
 and been exhaled to heaven, by the side of its mother. 
 The colonel accompanied the sorrowing husband 
 with his dead treasures to the northern home of the 
 mother. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A NIGHT ON THE GULF. 
 
 United States mail steamer, the last trip she 
 makes this season, sa'ls at six o'clock, and reaches 
 Mobile in the morning "Right this way, madam,' 
 and we follow the noisy waiter, who carries our 
 small baggage on board of one of the largest Amer 
 ican vessels, and steam away from New Orleans, sing 
 ing, "We are out on the ocean sailing." 
 
 A sunset on the ocean is better seen than de 
 scribed. The waves on the gulf are much shorter 
 than in mid-ocean, which causes a greater shaking 
 about of all kinds of craft, and more sea-sickness. 
 
 The spy-glasses are leveled at the receding 
 shores, the band of music does its best, the passengers 
 
 are all enjoying the scene. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Midnight and all are gone to their rooms, except 
 the faithful sailors. The night-watch paces the deck, 
 the giant engine labors against the rolling waves, 
 
 "3 
 
114 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 carrying us nearer our destination at every revolution 
 of its ponderous wheel. Hark! a deafening crash, a 
 roar of thunder, a tremendous shake of the vessel, 
 that awakens every one on board; a thunder storm at 
 sea, and that isn't the worse of it. Our craft h;.s 
 drifted out of the way and is fast on the oyster reefs. 
 
 About seventy or more miles from Mobile is a 
 long, deep channel in the midst of the bay, called 
 Grant's Pass, which was dredged in the last war at 
 great expense to make a way for the war vessels to 
 pass through the oyster reefs, and woe unto the ships 
 that get out of this channel. 
 
 A friendly light-house is near by, and we cast 
 anchor and wait for daylight. The falling rain 
 drenches the deck, and finds its way into our state 
 room, and patience is the only quality we need. 
 
 Grand! sublime! are the only words that begin 
 to describe the war of the elements. Morning dawns 
 and the captain sends hot coffee to all who wish it, 
 but no one cares for anything but to be rid of the 
 dreadful sea-sickness. 
 
 At this moment a feeling as of something awful 
 aboutto happen, came over the writer, who was sit 
 ting in the cabin as were many ladies, with their feet 
 up on chairs to keep them from the water now roll 
 ing over the deck. No one had mentioned anything 
 to be afraid of, yet the sense of horror was so borne 
 in upon the soul, the writer arose and staggering into 
 her state-room, fell on the floor in agony of prayer, 
 crying aloud, "O God, spare his life! O God, spare 
 his life!" Soon the sense of terror left, and a mighty 
 peace known only to the one who holds communion 
 
ANIGHT ON Tl-Itt GUI-F. 115 
 
 w ; fh God, was felt, and on going out on deck where 
 many of the passengers were peering over the side of 
 the vessel, we saw a small boat containing one person, 
 and the young man teacher of our company, asked, 
 "Did you hear the man swear? he nearly went under 
 the boat." In a moment it was plain what was the 
 cause of the intense soul anguish, that had just passed 
 over the writer. To God be the glory! She had 
 been burdened for the profane man so near death. 
 
 After four hours of tugging with ropes the wind 
 changed, and the waters seemed to almost blow to 
 us, the ship veered around, and we were loose. 
 
 We make the harbor of Mobile forty-eight hours 
 late. This city is put down as having 48,000 inhab 
 itants, half of them black, and we think, as we near 
 the shore, most of them are out to greet us. Many 
 have friends on board, and are half wild to know if 
 they are safe. The storm has been so severe they 
 say the waves have washed alligators on shore, and 
 men and boys are chasing them with sticks. 
 
 The city is in the midst of an exciting political 
 election, and revolvers are the order of the day. Our 
 friends are among the post office officials, one of 
 them is postmaster, and they are in the warfare. 
 They tell us only one colored man was killed last 
 night, and to-day one brave man has cleared the of 
 fice of an excited mob. 
 
 The street cars of this city have an iron lattice 
 work, on one side of which the whites can ride, on 
 the other side the colored people. A lady has taken 
 her waiting- maid into the wrong end of the car, and 
 
Il6 M-:\ I. N YI.AKs AMONG TIIK FKKEDMEJSi. 
 
 the coiultictor stops the car, and gets her into her 
 place. 
 
 "Things are a little mixed here," says a half- 
 drunken man, who is allowed to ride with the elite, 
 u but guess they they'll get unmixed." 
 
 We hope so and wonder if when women are 
 allowed to vote, they'll have to carry revolvers, and 
 see so many drunken men, as we have seen in our 
 ride of six blocks. 
 
 The car has stopped in front of the college, now 
 used as a Freedmen's school, and we enter the yard 
 full of live oaks and orange trees, and are thankful to 
 see nearby the barracks of our country's soldiers, with 
 the stars and stripes thrown to the breeze, and we 
 rest. 
 
 Here we taught several hundred colored people 
 during the year, and saw what we never did in any 
 other place in America, viz., a principal of a white 
 school where we visited, smoking a cigar in school 
 hours in the midst of his school, he walking up and 
 down the aisles of the school-room, with a book in 
 his hand prompting his pupils. At the risk of his 
 displeasure, we told him he couldn't do that, and keep 
 his place in a northern school. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 JOURNAL 1872. 
 
 Was present at the baptism of twenty-four 
 colored people, last Sabbath baptized by immersion 
 in the Tombigbee river. The waters were so muddy, 
 when the candidates came out of the water, they were 
 covered with mud. The women wore white dresses, 
 and all inarched two by two in procession, out of the 
 woods. We were told they had all drank whisky, to 
 keep them from getting chilly. Some of them 
 shouted, and threw the water, clapping their hands 
 wildly. A thousand people, a third of them whites, 
 stood on the high bluffs to witness the baptism. The 
 hymn of praise from so many voices sounded grandly: 
 
 "From all that dwell below the skies, 
 
 Let the Creator's praise arise, 
 
 Let the Redeemer's name be sung, 
 
 Through every land, by every tongue." 
 Before the baptisms, went to the large African 
 church, to hear the experiences of the candidates. 
 
 An old man said, "I started traveling an' went 
 117 
 
Il8 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 on, an' on, 'til I cum tu ole hell, an' I see cle devil, an 
 asked him ef I might plow dar. He said I might, 
 an' I plowed tu furrows on de firey mane o' hell. 
 Den I seed an ole woman wid her hair all burnt off. 
 Den I seed a pair o' balances, an' was weighed in 'em 
 an' was light as a feather. Ef I'de a knowed God 
 wus sich a sweet God, I'de a prayed my knees tu de 
 bone." 
 
 Another said, "I started travelin', an' went on, 
 an' went on, 'til I cum to hebben, an' Peter opened 
 de door an' let me in, an' he an' John guv me sliced 
 water-melon, on a golden server, an' I had on golden 
 slippers, an' went a slippin' an' a slidin' up an' down 
 de golden streets." 
 
 Another said, "I was walkin' 'long, smokin' my 
 pipe, an' pretty soon my pipe spoke tu me, an' it 
 said, 'Unworthy! unworthy! unworthy!' Then I was 
 lying on the floor, and the dogs came and licked the 
 meal off my face." 
 
 A woman holding an infant child said, "I 'gun 
 to pray, den I stopped. One day my ole hen got 
 sick, an' when I seed her a scringin' an* a flutterin' 
 in death, I said,'Lawd, of a poo' brute scringes so in 
 death, what '11 become o' poo' me.' Den I 'gun tu 
 play wid my baby, an' I heered a voice say, 'No 
 time, no time, no time fur dat, better pray.' Den 
 pears like I 'gun travelin', an' I got tu hell, an' I seed 
 a little ole man, a stirrin' in a pot o' soap, dat was 
 bilin', an' he stirred up little babies, an' I axed him 
 what dey is, an' he dun said, 'Dey is ole souls dat 
 had been biled down, an' I prayed La\vd hah mercv 
 on poo' me, an' my head flew up, an' I felt light as a 
 
JOURNAL 1872. 119 
 
 feather, an' pears like I loved everybody; an' de 
 tings I once hated, now I lub, an' I lub sinners tu, 
 but I lub Christians de best, an* I lub Masser Jesus 
 
 best ob all." 
 
 An old man said, "I started travelin', an' pears 
 like I had weights hung tu my feet, an' I had tu tote 
 'em, an' I grew so tired totin' 'em, I sweat great 
 drops o' blood; den I prayed, an' fell into a slumber, 
 an' I hung over hell by a slender cotton thread; an' 
 den I prayed as I nebber prayed afore. Den I was 
 in bed, an' I see a light cum down troo' de roof, an' 
 I heard a voice, 'Your sins is all forgiven;' an' I 
 knew dat voice 'longed tu Jesus, an' I aked him ef 
 'twant, an' he sed, 4 Yes.' Deri he showed me his 
 feet wid de print ob de nails in fur me, an' I kissed 
 dem feet, an' he tole me to tote dis ole body a leetle 
 longer, den he'll cum fur me, an' bring me tu live in. 
 a manshum wid he. An' den Jesus sed, 4 de work 
 dat you do fur me in de world, will make a wrinkle 
 in yo' crown in glory.'" 
 
 One poor man, only said, he came to Jesus, and 
 he took all his sins away; he could now pray for his 
 enemies and believed the Lord saved his soul. This 
 candidate was about, to be rejected, because he had 
 no wonders to tell, but a white friend came to the 
 rescue, and said to the colored preacher who was tak 
 ing the members into the church. "You'll have to 
 let him in, for he says he trusts in Jesus to the saving 
 of his soul; What better can any one do?" 
 
 "Well," said the gray-haired African preacher, 
 "we'll vote on his case," and he barely passed, but 
 received a reprimand from the preacher, which ran 
 
120 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 thus: "You have been a believer for six months, and 
 you ought by this time, to have delivered yourself of 
 an experience" 
 
 Here the session of two hours came to an end, 
 by the pastor's pronouncing the benediction, and all 
 went to the river to attend the baptisms. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Elmira Water-cure, N. Y.: "Your throat is bud, 
 madam. You ought to have been here six weeks 
 ago; I don't know as I can prevent it from going to 
 your lungs. What you been doing?" 
 
 "Teaching." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "In Mobile, Alabama." 
 
 "I thought so. We have the most trouble with 
 teachers of any class of patients. They are worn out. 
 They wear out faster than any other class of people. 
 Orders: Hot baths; high diet beefsteak, eggs, milk, 
 fruit, oysters, everything the health cure has on the 
 table; ride for exercise; sleep late in the morning; 
 never mind the breakfast bell. You can have your 
 breakfast sent up when you waken. We'll see if 
 you can be toned up, for some more teaching. 
 Lizzie, show the lady to her room," says the old 
 doctor. 
 
 A lovely room, with all needful modern im 
 provements, couches, that are so tasteful they look 
 like resting; lovely views of the Allegheny mount 
 ains from the windows; three room-mates all of 
 them high-toned southern ladies, from West 
 Virginia; stiff silk dresses, but very plain, one of them 
 a young woman, but wears a white cap. Can it be? 
 Yes; they are Quakers. 
 
JOURNAL. 1872. 121 
 
 Query: \Vonder if I am to be haunted with 
 southerners the rest of my life? Now if I wasn't a 
 "nigger teacher", and had worlds of money, I could 
 have a room alone. 
 
 The young pretty lady, with the plain white 
 cap, rises with difficulty, and says, "Is thce going 
 down to the prayer-meeting, and would thee mind 
 letting thy lame sister lean on thee down the stairs?" 
 
 "Certainly. Do they have a prayer-meeting 
 here?" 
 
 "Every Friday afternoon." 
 
 They are carrying the sick to the couches, and 
 rolling the chairs for those who can't walk. This 
 way through the great hall, into a lovely parlor. A 
 smile from a lady as we enter, who hands a Bible to 
 the teacher and says, "Will you lead the meeting 
 to-day." 
 
 Prayers from sick ones, for those who are worse 
 off than themselves; prayers for the strangers arriv 
 ing; prayers for the doctors; songs from some of the 
 sweet singers in Israel, all ladies who have come to 
 the health resort. 
 
 The meeting over, we slowly take our way 
 back to the room of our temporary health home. 
 
 The duty of one of us is plainer and plainer. 
 These sweet Quaker women must know their associ 
 ate is a "nigger teacher", and the teacher must tell 
 them. Wonder if they'll bounce down the stairs, or 
 pitch her out of the window. 
 
 "Ha! ha! Thee needn't vex thyself with our 
 displeasure, f or thy calling is from heaven" says the 
 old mother Quaker lady. 
 
122 SEVEN YEATtS A MO\C THE 
 
 After years of boiled clown scorn, we have 
 swallowed at the South, this tonic of the God-fearing 
 Quaker family, is almost too much. The tears are 
 about to fall, as the sweet mother Quaker goes on. 
 
 "Dry thy tears now, and rest! Thee hath a warm 
 place in the souls of those who see things in their 
 true condition. All our God's creatures ought to be 
 loyal to their country, and true to one another. Go 
 on in your duties, and God is going to help raise the 
 lowly, and bring down the high. We have had 
 many experiences among the blacks, not long ago, 
 but we say to those who gave up their slaves 
 relunctantly, ^-Friend, thy prey hath escaped thce! 
 
 And thee will be the better for it in due time.' " 
 ****** 
 
 Cairo,* Illinois: A young man teacher from 
 Chicago, making his way home from the South 
 under difficulties. A gun-shot wound in his right 
 arm. 
 
 He says, "They shot me, and turned me out of 
 my school, and burnt my school-house." 
 
 Pale, and with his arm in a sling, he looks thin 
 enough to have passed through a siege, which, in 
 reality he has; says they took his money and watch, 
 and he gladly got away with his life. A teacher 
 pays bis fare to Chicago, and he thankfully goes 
 North, while we go South to continue the combat. 
 
 The old doctor has been successful, for the 
 throat seems well again; the friends at home have 
 said the relunctant good-by's, and we are far on our 
 way to the sunny South. 
 
 Department of a large public free-school for 
 colored people, in the state of Mississippi. Teacher 
 sitting at her desk, scholars singing, 
 
JOURNAL. 1872 123 
 
 "Dare to be right, dare to be true, 
 You have a work that no other can do; 
 Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well, 
 Angels will hasten, the story to tell. 
 
 Dare to be right, dare to be true, 
 God who created you, cares for you too; 
 Treasures the tears, that his striving ones shed, 
 Counts and protects every hair of your head." 
 
 "There's a white man at the door, ma'am," says 
 some one. Enter a tall well-dressed gentleman, with 
 two beautiful little white children, finely dressed, 
 bringing slates and dinner pails. 
 
 "Good morning, madam ; I may as well intro 
 duce myself. I am Dr. K , one of the school 
 
 board of this school. I have lived over twenty years 
 in this place; I bring you two scholars, one my own 
 child, and one my housekeeper's daughter's child. 
 They both live at my house; anything they need, in 
 the way of books, will be cheerfully furnished." 
 
 We are about to tell the gentleman, we are 
 teaching a colored school, when, all uninvited bv us, 
 he goes on to explain the situation. 
 
 "As one of the school board, madam, I am 
 highly in favor of free schools, for both white and 
 colored. I have said when the school started, I 
 should avail myself of it, and have promised my 
 housekeeper, than whom a better woman never 
 lived, I would educate these children. My wife 
 died long years ago, and but for the interference 
 of the southern prejudice, that child's mother would 
 long ago have stood with me at the marriage 
 altar. In our souls we are one, and true to each 
 other; I say this before God, and I am a member of 
 
DK. K'S. TWO PUPILS. 
 
 124 
 
JOURNAL. 1872. 125 
 
 a Christian church, and hope for heaven. Although 
 the mother of this little girl is as white as most white 
 people, yet her ancestors are known to be of African 
 extraction. I don't deny it. I hold the only honor 
 able way to treat our children is to educate them. 
 Education hurts no one; it is the lack of it that makes 
 half the turmoil among us, madam. The human 
 mind was formed for light. Darkness has covered 
 the earth here, and gross darkness the people, and 
 darkness breeds envy and a whole troop of vices. I 
 have said to my neighbors, you can ostracize me if you 
 will, my course is forward. I will be true to my fam 
 ily. The prejudices of the South are unaccountable, 
 madam. I bid you good morning. Anything lean 
 do for you, as one of the school board of these free 
 schools, so reluctantly inaugurated, I shall gladly do 
 and you are most welcome to my house." 
 
 AVe taught the scholars, and found them quite 
 intelligent, but they did ostracize the doctor, and 
 sometimes we didn't know who suffered the most 
 from the mixed-up prejudices, of the mixed-up social 
 condition of things, the doctor's family, or the teach 
 ers. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 KXI'KK 1KNCE. 
 
 A large room witli two beds in it; a great fire 
 place extends nearly accross one end of the room; 
 trunks, chairs, white bare floor, two teachers are talk 
 ing. 
 
 One says, "Your throat is so bad again, you can 
 not go on teaching; you'll have to give up your de 
 partment. Shall I take some of your scholars?" 
 
 The fire in the great fire-place roars and crack 
 les, the teacher thinks of home and friends, of the 
 old health cure, and wonders where she shall turn 
 for help. The throat has been swollen all day, and 
 with difficulty she has taught a large department. 
 Falling on her knees she turns to the great physician. 
 In less time than it takes to tell it, a power from 
 above falls on her throat, the feeling is as of an elec 
 trie shock, and the swelling is gone from her throat. 
 She is instantly healed, and goes on in lu r school 
 126 
 
EXPERIENCE. 127 
 
 duties until the end of the year. * * * 
 
 Together we four teachers have taught in a large 
 school all winter. The county school board have 
 given us school warrants, the county's promises of 
 payment but no money. One after another the 
 teachers have been to the county treasury, but ob 
 tained no money. Northern friends have sent us 
 money, and we have lent stamps to each other. The 
 rent of our cottage is as high as it would be in New 
 York city, and the expenses of a family of four must 
 be kept up. 
 
 Again we turn to our stronghold, and betake 
 ourselves to the weapon "all prayer." At the fam 
 ily altar we remind our prayer-hearing God of our 
 needs. Presently a teacher comes out of her closet 
 with a fifty dollar warrant in her hand, saying she 
 has had an answer to prayer, that the warrant is to be 
 cashed in greenbacks. 
 
 They were at that time paying us in state mon 
 ey that sometimes brought seventy cts. on the dollar 
 and sometimes less. A chorus of laughter runs 
 around the little circle of teachers, as they tell of the 
 number of times they have each been to that treasury 
 for money, all to no avail; but, says one, "I'll go with 
 you; we'll take this basket to bring the money in." 
 
 "Together the Illinois and Boston teachers take 
 the walk of a mile to the court house, and find the 
 county treasurer, who sits near the great iron safe, 
 while a negro sentinel, with a loaded musket paces 
 in front of it. The school officer stops his writing, 
 takes the warrant presented by the teacher, says, 
 
12$ SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 "Have you had no pay this term?" "No, sir; and the 
 money is past due," is the answer. 
 
 "I'll cash that warrant," says the treasurer, and 
 counts out the greenbacks, United States money. 
 
 On our return we have money to lend, and two 
 other teachers say, "Go with me, and get mine cashed, 
 will you?" 
 
 We go and present their warrants, but fail to get 
 them cashed. 
 
 We had received a special answer to prayer, for 
 our special time of need. To God be the glory! 
 
 "Thou art coming to a king, 
 Large petitions with thee bring, 
 For his grace and power are such, 
 None can ever ask too much. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 JOURNAL 1877. 
 
 KU-KI.UX OUTRAGES. 
 
 A well-educated man from South Carolina, who 
 had taught all the white school in the place for four 
 teen years; his wife not able to read a word; five 
 children, three of whom are women in size. The 
 mother, though not book learned, teaches her 
 daughters to do all kinds of work. In a small cook 
 house, in the rear of the dwelling, each of the 
 daughters take turns in cooking. Here we saw rice 
 used as a vegetable, eaten with meat, as in Carolina, 
 where it grows so abundantly. The bread and cof 
 fee were excellent, and the kindness of this family 
 drew every one to them. 
 
 Here, for want of a county poor-house, were 
 boarded the poor, who were a county charge, and 
 here the northern teachers found a boarding place. 
 
 The family is, large, and Mr. Sandsby, the 
 father, having returned from the town, twenty-five 
 
 129 
 
130 SEVKN YEARS AMONG T 1 1 K FKEEDMEN. 
 
 miles away, is standing with his hack to the great 
 fire-place, telling the home circle of the doings in 
 the county . 
 
 "The Ku-Klux have whipped the colonel, mad 
 am," addressing the teacher, "and have sent me word 
 they will call on you. Of course I will defend you 
 and my family, with my gun and dogs, us well as I 
 can," said the tall South Carolina gentleman; "but 
 they'll burn the house immediately, and what now is 
 our wisest course, that's the question! There are 
 many colored people here, and very much attached 
 to the school they are; but it isn't safe to trust them 
 in an emergency. They are not well armed, and 
 they haven't dogs at their command; and the Ku- 
 Klux have both arms and dogs, and they know if 
 they are half of them killed, there is no jury in this 
 state that will give them justice. 
 
 "It's never thought much of a sin to kill a col 
 ored man in a southern state, and one of the proverbs 
 of the secret society known as the Ku-Klux, is, that 
 'Dead men tell no talcs? The other proverb, that 
 mostly governs them, is, ^TJiis is a ivhitc nicufs gov 
 ernment* ; and so, with some whisky on board, they 
 manage to intimidate the blacks, and make them vote 
 mostly their own way. 
 
 "There's an election close at hand, and this raid 
 is to scare them to vote the ticket they give them 
 So much for freedom in old Mississippi, madam; and 
 you'll find, too, they arebentonso scaring the blacks, 
 that the children will be afraid to attend the school. 
 
 "They've killed the colored man who ferried 
 them over the Tombigbee, and now, what's best to 
 
KU-KLUX OUTRAGES. I$I 
 
 be done? We must act promptly; they'll be here 
 by to-morrow night." 
 
 All night the blacks had a prayer-meeting, and 
 at sunrise, sent Uncle Billy to see the teacher, and 
 try to persuade her to stay. 
 
 Morning exercises in the school-room; Scripture 
 lesson: "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe 
 in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house 
 are many mansions: I go to prepare a place for 
 you." "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but 
 be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." 
 "The angel of the Lord encampeth round about 
 them that fear him, and delivereth them." 
 
 Singing, prayer, and calling the roll. The 
 teacher tells the scholars she is going to take a vaca 
 tion, and will send them word when the school is to 
 begin again; gives each pupil a beautiful Scotch Bi 
 ble, donated by the Y. M. C. A. of Scotland, which 
 she has been saving to give at the end of the term. 
 
 Never, in all their lives, have the colored school 
 seen Bibles like these; much less, did they ever think 
 of possessing such books. Most of the school can 
 read them. 
 
 The school-house was an old dwelling, hired by 
 the county school commissioner, a northern Christian 
 man, who had just been whipped a hundred lashes 
 by the same band of Ku-Klux, who were bent on 
 breaking up every school in the county. 
 
 "Good-by ! Good-by, ma'am," said the scholars, 
 as they stepped into the aisle, and passed out, each 
 carrying the chair they had brought with them 
 at the beginning of the term, and each hugging the 
 dear Scotch Bible. 
 
132 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 A ride of a mile and a half on the little pony, 
 through two streams of water, impossible to cross on 
 foot, and the teacher soon found her pleasant board 
 ing place, and with the help of the Sandsby daugh 
 ters, finished packing. By this time the poor-house 
 boarders had come for their good-by's. 
 
 Uncle Jimmy was a white man, whose daughter 
 was the wife of a planter in the neighborhood, the 
 planter preferring not to be troubled with his old 
 father-in-law, who was blind, and very aged. He 
 came led by a child, and leaning on his staff, wiped 
 his sightless eyes, and began his good-by speech: 
 
 "Ma'am, I's lived mor'n forty years in these 
 parts. I cum here when the Injuns had their trail 
 all up and down the red water and the blue water. 
 I've hunted buck with 'em many a da)', an' / declare 
 to you, I never see such work. It's 'worse than In 
 juns, to drive you off from this school work. Why 
 them rainy days, when you all couldn't go to the 
 school-house, an' had your Sunday-school here, I jes 1 
 thought, ef I'd a had some one to have teached me 
 like that, I shouldn't a been where I am now. I'm 
 almost through, ma'am ; an' I'm goin' tu meet you 
 in the city that has foundations, as you all was a tell- 
 in' a*bout in the lesson; but I declare, ma'am, I's 
 feared dese people as hounds ye all off from dis 
 work'll never get thare." 
 
 Here was a fourteen-year-old white boy, who 
 had never known the story of Jesus' death. In vain 
 we said, "You must have heard of Jesus, the God- 
 man who died to help us gam heaven." 
 
 Invariably the answer was, "Who was lie? And 
 where was it? An' did they kill him?" 
 
KU-KLUX OUTRAGES. 133 
 
 He had never once heard of Jesus. These with 
 a dozen others of the family, had formed the little 
 Sunday-school, when the Sundays were too rainy to 
 get to the large school. 
 
 Only five weeks of the term had passed, but 
 the night riders had vetoed the attempts at school 
 teaching, and amid the clinging good-by's of the 
 negro scholars, and the tears of the Sandsbys, we 
 got ready to take twenty-five miles of horseback rid 
 ing, through the pine woods, with only a colored 
 boy on a mule to show us the way, Uncle Jimmy de 
 claring, "The good Lord sent ye here, if the devil 
 drives ye away." 
 
 We had slept but little all night, as the blacks 
 had an all-night prayer-meeting, and we could hear 
 their shouts, songs, and prayers, sounding on the still 
 night air; but we made the journey without much 
 inconvenience, save that we crossed over a dozen 
 streams, some of them so swollen we had to jump up 
 on the saddle, and let the horse nearly swim through. 
 A colored boy rode a mule, and went with the teach 
 er, to show the way. 
 
 Arriving at the town, which was the county 
 seat of a large county, we found the colonel, super 
 intendent of schools, also government officer, had 
 been badly whipped by a hundred masked men. 
 They detailed ten of their number to do the whip 
 ping, which was done with a leather strap. The 
 colonel had gone a dozen miles from town, taking 
 with him two northern teachers; had located them 
 in their school, and stopped at a house three miles on 
 his homeward journey, to stay all night. The house 
 
134 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMDN. 
 
 was surrounded by a hundred masked men on horse 
 back. A few of these brave ones entered the house, 
 took the colonel, tied him to a tree, and mercilessly 
 whipped him, he telling them if they killed him, it 
 would bring more war to their homes, as he was a 
 government officer, and the government was bound 
 to punish the offense. The colonel, more dead than 
 alive, was left at the house, while the riders returned 
 to their homes. A driver was found to drive for the 
 school officer, and ere morning he reached home, and 
 soon his neighbors filled the house with their calls, 
 proffering their sympathy, and loud in denouncing 
 such work in their state. Here were members of 
 the same church the colonel had joined, on going 
 South to live; here was the grocery man who sup 
 plied the colonel's family with eatables; here were 
 many living close around the dwelling of this man, 
 who, though a government officer, was devoting his 
 hours, when not on duty for the government, to ben 
 efiting both white and colored, in the capacity of 
 head officer of the free-school system they were try 
 ing to establish in this state; all these, and some 
 others, who had come to proffer their condolence, 
 were found to be the very Ku-Klux who whipped 
 their neighbor. 
 
 The case was brought before the civil courts, 
 but the lawyers adjourned it from time to time for 
 three years, then a southern jury acquitted the Ku- 
 Klux, and when they returned from the trial, a com 
 pany of ladies met them at the depot, with a flag, 
 and band of music. 
 
 Soon the colonel went to Washington, and re- 
 
KU-KLUX OUTRAGES. 135 
 
 turned with soldiers, who were quartered for three 
 years on the country, and we taught other schools in 
 large towns, but never returned to our plantation 
 school. We think yet w r e hear the echo of the sad 
 song the scholars sang just as we left: 
 
 "Ami when I know that wo must part, 
 You draw like cords around my heart." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 ANOTHER RAID. 
 
 Miss Ada was a devoted Christian girl, the 
 daughter of a first-class lawyer in Illinois. The mis 
 sionary spirit had fired her soul, and filled with de 
 sires to benefit the ex-slaves, she left a home of lux 
 ury to come South and be a despised teacher of the 
 colored race. She lived in one room of an old house. 
 Aunt Melinda, a colored woman occupied a part of 
 the house, cooked the food of the teacher, and carried 
 it to her room. The school taught by the lady was 
 a short distance away, in an uncomfortable shed-like 
 building. The scholars were learning fast, and 
 greatly attached to the teacher. A night school for 
 adults was taught, and good progress was being 
 made by all the pupils. 
 
 The school had gone on not jet two months, 
 when at two o'clock in the morning, the sound of 
 
ANOTHER RAID. 137 
 
 many horsemen was heard, and soon a rap at the door 
 announced the presence of the Ku-Klux. They or 
 dered the door opened immediately, speaking in a 
 guttural tone, behind a mask, saying they were in 
 haste, as they had a long ways to go. 
 
 "Yes, yes;" said Miss Ada, who had sprung 
 from her bed at the first rap, and thrown on a wrap 
 per, "as soon as I light a lamp," taking the precaution 
 to secrete her gold watch and chain, which lay on 
 the table. 
 
 "Open the door or we'll break it open," came 
 from the hasty night riders, and with a prayer for 
 help, the teacher opened the door, to be greeted by a 
 dozen masked and armed men. Masks of white, 
 trimmed with black, and their pistols at half cock, 
 they entered the room. The lady invited them to sit 
 down, and said she felt such a sense of the presence 
 of God with her, that a thought of fear never entered 
 her mind. With pistol in hand the captain of the 
 band gave his orders for her. to leave in three days 
 saying, "This is a white man's government," also 
 inquiring if she had a home, and why she should 
 leave it lo engage in so mean a calling. 
 
 "We will not have white people mixed up with 
 niggers," said the Captain, and after inquiring the 
 time of her, thinking to get sight of her watch, said 
 they must go. As they went out, one said to another, 
 "She waVt scared a bit." 
 
 Miss Ada in relating it, said, "I shed tears when 
 they were gone, to think I was worthy to feel the 
 mighty presence of God so much." "The angel of 
 
138 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE 1 RKKDMKX. 
 
 the Lord encumpeth round about them them that fear 
 him, and delivereth them." 
 
 STATE SENATOH. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE STATE SENATOR. 
 
 "Good morning, madam ! The session at the 
 capital have let me off for a few weeks, and I've 
 come to attend your school to learn arithmetic." 
 
 The speaker was the Rev. I. A , a colored 
 
 representative of his district, in the state legislature. 
 His time was 'divided between the sittings of the 
 state legislature, and the sittings of the negro school. 
 When he preached for the people, as he often did, he 
 could read from the Bihle, rather poorly, and man 
 aged to get through the hymns fairly. His cabin was 
 very near the school-house, and was not of the poor 
 est as to furniture. A bit of a civilized carpet cov 
 ered the floor, and his children wore shoes, while 
 many did not. The ability of the man was good, 
 but he had an idea that using large words, was the 
 way to seem learned, and he almost used up the dic 
 tionary in his vocabulary. 
 
 "Ye see, ma'am," began the statesman, "our 
 
 '39 
 
140 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 race has to creep afore we can walk, and it takes a 
 mighty sight of speculation to raise the ideas of our 
 minds to the citizenship of the comprehension of the 
 situation of ignorance. A little learning makes us 
 hanker after the dish. 
 
 "Now, ma'am, these white people wants you 
 away from here. They's more afraid o' you five 
 or six wimmen, than a whole company o' soldiers. 
 They 'spects you'll teach these risin' generation to 
 vote, an' to rise above themselves." 
 
 We inform the senator that their fears are 
 groundless; that we differ with President Lincoln 
 about voting; we think no man, North or South, 
 should be allowed to vote, who cannot read his 
 ballot. 
 
 "Oh! ah! yes'm; but the understanding of the 
 comprehension of our relation to the necessary con 
 ditions of the freedom of a government, don't make 
 no sort o' difference with the compulsion of the 
 former conditions of servitude to the present ideas of 
 the citizens of this republic, ma'am. 
 
 "Ye see, ma'am, I wants to learn 'rithmetic. I 
 aint gwine to steal or murder, and I'm a citizen of 
 this republic gettin' knowledge under difficulties. I'm 
 a blacksmith by trade, an' I aint a carin' ef I don't 
 hev only half enough to eat, ef I can learn 'rithmetic. 
 The Lord willin', I'll preach the Sunday follerin', 
 an' will you jest 'splain de text? It's in Genesis ii. J: 
 'And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the 
 ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of 
 life; and man became a living soul.' 
 
 "They tell me names has a meanin'; what's the 
 
THE STATE SENATOR. 141 
 
 meanin' of Adam, ma'am? The dictionary says 
 'earth-man; red earth.' Does you s'pose Adam was 
 a red man? So it says; read it for yourself. Yes'm ; 
 well, then, ef all sprung from Adam, an' he was a 
 red man, what's all this fuss about color fur, among 
 the white 'uns? Don' they know they's got ances 
 try's wa'n't so white as some on 'em? Tell ye what, 
 dere is some good southern folks, an' dere is dem as 
 wants de Lord Almighty tu ax dere pardon ftir 
 makin* us black ''uns, an' tu step down an' let dem 
 rule; an' I's 'feared dey'll fetch up where 'taint alto 
 gether a 'white man's government,' 'cause dere idees 
 is 'noxious tu cle Lord, an' de heft o' de angels. 
 
 "Now, ma'am, is dere any government as is 
 gwine tu help dis union have deyselves, an' let us 
 have, de chance to breathe God's air, an' not ax dere 
 pardon fur it? Whar's it dey used tu run tu a foller- 
 in' de Norf star, an' find pertection?" 
 
 "England, in the queen's dominion; to Canada." 
 
 "Yes'm ; is that North o' Mason and Dixon's 
 liner Whar duz the queen hold her state, an' who 
 is she?" 
 
 "The queen is a woman, governor of England 
 and Canada, and much more. She has freed the 
 last slave in her dominions, not many years ago. An 
 African prince has lately been brought over to see 
 her, and when he saw her in the midst of her happy 
 subjects, he asked her the cause of all her peace, and 
 she brought out a Bible and gave him, and told him 
 that book contained it all. It is the boast of En 
 gland that 
 
 " 'Slaves cannot live in England, 
 They touch her shores, and their shackles fall.' " 
 
 "'Stonishin', ma'am! Was she related to the 
 Queen o' Sheba, as de good book tells about? When 
 you go North, ef you meet up with her, give her 
 my best respects, ma'am." Exit state senator; 
 school bell rings. 
 
C H A 1* T i: R X X Y [ I I a 
 
 JOURNAL. 
 
 A year ago we taught arithmetic to a state sena 
 tor of Mississippi, the Rev. I. A - -. Sometimes 
 he studied with his little girl, the two using the same 
 books, because he was too poor to get books for 
 both. The school of one hundred and twenty pupils 
 had been taught three years in that place. There 
 was good improvement, and we hoped for the best. 
 Marion was a young man of twentv-two years. He 
 walked three miles every morning to school. He 
 bui.lt the fires for the school, and helped take care of 
 the large school building that had been elected, just 
 as the war closed, by the Freed men's Bureau. 
 ********** 
 
 Election day! The blacks voted all right in the 
 morning. Ere noon, a raid on the polls was an 
 nounced. Suddenly the street is full of armed men, 
 yelling, "Hang the niggers! Shoot 'em!" Frank 
 was the first one shot; was killed in the street. He 
 
 142 
 
JOURNAL. 143 
 
 was peaceably distributing tickets, not far from the 
 place for voting. Uncle Billy is shot, pitched clown 
 stairs, and his ears cut off. Wesley, a young man, 
 one of our scholars, and in the employ of the Ameri 
 can Missionary Association, is poisoned, but recovers 
 and flees for his life. One voter runs home from 
 the polls, jumps into his cabin, and into bed, and 
 pulls a blanket over him. The "election regulators" 
 follow him, and shoot him in his bed. Our state 
 senator runs away, his house is burnt down, so is the 
 school-house, he runs on, hiding day times, and run 
 ning nights, until he reaches the state capital, a dis 
 tance of one hundred and fifty miles, and begs of his 
 associate representatives, protection and help. 
 
 "History repeats itself in the South," said a 
 speaker, lately, on the floor of Congress at Washing 
 ton, "and if half the scenes going on in some parts of 
 our United States were to-day written up, they 
 would hardly be believed." 
 
 Yes; but the authorities must remember that 
 these scenes can be proved. Every incident written 
 in this book can be proved, and most of them by 
 many witnesses. 
 
 And now, patient reader, ere we part, a word 
 or two to you. Some of you who see the need of 
 teachers at the South, where for so long they have 
 measurably been deprived of the free-school system 
 the North has been blest with, will doubtless be 
 teachers; and you may one day be welcomed, as we 
 hope, in the sunny South, and pursue your "heaven- 
 born calling," as the sweet Quaker lady called it, un- 
 mplested. If so, we bid you Godspeed. 
 
144 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 Many have said to the writer, "/$ // true that 
 there are Ku-Klux at the South, and did you ever 
 see any of their work?" To such we say, we have 
 given you only a part of what we know, of their 
 shameful actions against the laws of this govern 
 ment; but doubtless one day you may know even 
 more of their depredations, for in Ecclesiastes xii. 14, 
 we read, "For God shall bring every work into 
 judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be 
 good, or whether it be evil." "When the general 
 roll is called you'll be there." 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 VISITING THE SICK. 
 
 A walk of three miles, after the close of day 
 school; an old log cabin with a stick chimney, the 
 cabin almost destitute of furniture; a very old woman 
 sick, her daughter, and several grandchildren taking 
 care of her. The bed of the sick woman is an old tick, 
 filled with grass, and half an old shawl; nothing 
 more. A few boards keep the tick from the ground, 
 as the cabin has no floor. 
 
 "How d'ye!" says the aged woman; "I sent fur 
 ye, ma'am, tu read masser Jesus' words tu me. I 
 ain't havin* no hard times at all. I calls Jesus my 
 love, an' he talks tu me, an' he an' I has mighty good 
 times. I jes' wants ye tu read my Lawd's words; 
 dents what Ps livin' on. Jesus keeps de light a 
 burnin' in my soul; he don' leave me long 'nuff fu' 
 me tu git lonesome." 
 
 H5 
 
146 M.\ i;\ YEARS AMONG Til.-; F K K 1 . 1) M K \. 
 
 "I heard a great voice out of heaven saving, 
 Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he 
 will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, 
 and God himself shall be with them, and be their 
 God." Rev. xxi. 3. 
 
 The bed of rags gave place to a civilized bed, 
 sent by a friend of Jesus, from a northern state and 
 the sufferer recovered. 
 
 The next time we visited the convalescent 
 woman, her daughter showed us her twin babies, 
 three weeks old. They were as black as their father, 
 a poor colored man, who worked in a mill near by. 
 The mother's bed was of pine boughs. She wished 
 us to name the children, and said she had never made 
 them any dresses; as she was too poor to buy them 
 any, they must wear aprons. The little black 
 children, each one sucking its chubby thumb, were 
 snugly nestled in a large basket, and looked cunning 
 indeed. 
 
 "Two more little soldiers mustered in," said a 
 teacher who peeped into the basket, to see the little 
 creatures. 
 
 "I's jes' waitin' fu you all tu name 'em," said 
 the mother; and she laughed when we called one of 
 them after the president. 
 
 On inquiring after our proteges, after our return 
 from vacation, we learned they were both dead. "Of 
 such is the kingdom of heaven." Remark: The 
 South swarms with colored children named Abraham 
 Lincoln. 
 
148 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 "Marching along, we are marching along, 
 Rising as a people, while we're marching along; 
 The conflict is raging, 'tween the right and the wrong, 
 We'll trust in the Lord, while we're marching along." 
 
 In the next cabin visited, lies an old colored 
 preacher, over eighty years of age. His hair is snow 
 white. His cabin is in the rear of the big house, 
 where his former mistress lives. We first call on her, 
 to get permission to visit old Uncle Charley. 
 
 She says, "I'm poor enough, for the war took 
 all I had, but old Charley's welcome to his cabin 
 while he lives. I aint going to turn him out, and 
 you all can go and read the good book to him as 
 much as you please; he aint long for this world. I 
 wish we was all as sure of heaven, ma'am." 
 
 The cabin had a fire burning in the fire-place, 
 for the December air was chilly ; the two inmates 
 were the old preacher, and his aged wife. 
 
 "I's sufferin' tu git at de good book, ma'am ; 
 my ole woman can't read. I's so unworthy, ma'am ; 
 duz ye reckon I'll git in? Heaven's a high place; 
 an' I's mighty unworthy! I's been a poo' sinner 
 man, an' I's mos' dun wid de journey. I reckon I's 
 on de rock; but in de night, wen day's all still, an' 
 de pain cums on, ole' Satan he's a rarin' roun', an' 
 he sez', *ole' Charley, ye dun a heap o' poo' preachin, 
 shore' ; but you read now. 
 
 "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, 
 and they follow me; and I give unto them eternal 
 life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any 
 pluman ck them out of my hand. My father which 
 
VISITING THE SICK. 149 
 
 gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is 
 able to pluck them out of my Father's hand." 
 John x. 27-29. 
 
 "Yes, chile; I's one on 'em; must be Ps on de 
 rock! I ain't study in' 'bout dat; but is I ready to 
 go in "*mong clem as wars de white robes, on dem 
 golden streets? Heaven's a high place; an' de light 
 I sees, jes' shows me, dar is a wedclin' garment 
 wanted fur dem as gits in tu de supper o' de Lamb. 
 I's tryin' mighty hard tu git fixed up, fur dat 'casion; 
 an' taint noffin' but warfare, ma'am. Jesus is de 
 way ; an' I's cum along de journey, an' he's helped 
 me a heap, an' now I's got mos' tu tie end; an' duz 
 ye reckon it's ole Satan a gittin' me tu hang back, 
 dis yer way? 'Pears like I's wantin' tu foller Jesus, 
 but aint ready, 'til he dun fixed me u^ in my soul. 
 I's groanin' fu mo' an' mo'." 
 
 "I will ransom them from the grave; I will 
 redeem them from death: O death, I will be thy 
 plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction." 
 Hosea xiii. 14. 
 
 "Yes, honey; I ain't afeard tu go intude grave; 
 Jesus dun gone troo it ; but I's longin' fur de light 
 tu be brighter; an' I's groanin' fur de fullness. I's 
 had a taste; an' I's longin' \.\\ git hold ob de hull dish ! 
 I's wantin' tu be clean inside. Read whar it v tells 
 'bout it." 
 
 "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and 
 ye shall be clean: from all your filthine-ss, and from 
 ali your idols, will I cleanse you." 
 
150 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 "Dat's it, honey; read on." 
 
 "A new heart will I give you, and I will 
 
 take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and 
 
 I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to 
 walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, 
 and do them. And ye shall dwell in the land that I 
 gave to your fathers; and ye shall be my people, and 
 I will be your God. I will also save you from all 
 your uncleannesses." Eze. xxxvi. 25-29. 
 
 "Dat's it, ma'am. I's wantin' de cleansin', an' de 
 preparation tu git in. Ps on de rock, an' aint a 
 mindin' ole Satan's lofrin' at me, 'bout de poo' 
 preachin' much mo'; but I'se wantin' de clean wed- 
 din' garment, right hea\ ma'am. Duz yo reckon its 
 HE A' -we git //?" 
 
 "Yes, by Jaith, not of works, lest any man 
 should boast. It's a free gift; bought with the 
 blood of the Son of God.' 
 
 "Dat's so, ma'am ; but I wuz raised by an old 
 Presbyterian preacher, an' he wuz allers a tellin' 
 'bout workin' out de salvation, an' goin' higher and 
 higher up de ladder ob santification. Now I's dun 
 got mos' tu de end ob de rase, an' I's hungerin' fin- 
 it yet, ma'am. 'Pears like I's jes' a waitin' fur Jesus 
 i\\ fix me up inside". 
 
 "Jesus will give the clean heart. All you have 
 to do is to give all to him and take it; after you get 
 it, will be time enough to -work out. You couldn't 
 work it out by preaching. Believe his word when 
 he says, C I will cleanse vou.' 'The blood of Jesus 
 gleanseth us from all sin.' 
 
VISITING THE SICK. 151 
 
 "Dat's so; an' ole Charley's dun guv up all de 
 badness; dun guv up my pipe, an' aint a spendin' de 
 Lawd's money, smokin' it up no mo'; an' dun furgive 
 de man dat sold me from my ole mammy, when I 
 wuz a' infant chile. Dat's de hardest, ma'am, to for 
 give; an' now I luvs everybody. An' ef I knowed I 
 wuz clean, an' would git in, 'twould be mighty sat 
 isfactory; for I aint nuffin' but dust an' ashes, nohow, 
 an' I's mighty unworthy" 
 
 The old soldier of the cross, lived three weeks, 
 after his Bible reading, and before he went, said, 
 "Tell the teacher it's all right. I's satisfide, an' I's 
 gwine in!" 
 
 "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord: 
 Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their 
 labours, and their works do follow them." Rev. 
 xiv. 13. 
 
 There's a city that hath foundations, 
 Whose builder and maker is God; 
 Its walls are all finished, and garnished, 
 Its streets by the faithful are trod. 
 
 Its gates are not shut in the daytime, 
 And there is no darkness or night; 
 The glory of God is its brightness, 
 And the Lamb once slain is its light. 
 
 In that wonderful city there dwelleth, 
 No manner of sin, or strife, 
 But they who keep his commandments. 
 Have a right to the tree of life. 
 
 The Spirit and bride say come, 
 That city is waiting for thee, 
 Its pilgrims are journeying home, 
 Yes, there's room in that city for me. 
 
152 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 On the way home from Uncle Charley's cabin, 
 we call on Mrs. Dillam, whose milliner's shop appears 
 on page 26 of this book. She is the only white 
 southern woman in a town of live thousand people, 
 who ventures to call us friends. She is very sick, 
 and is receiving a call from a doctor of divinity, 
 her pastor, who is standing, having just lain 
 aside his gold-headed cane, black kid gloves, and 
 stove-pipe hat. The niece of our friend is in attend 
 ance, and bids us be seated: but ere we sit, Mrs. 
 D. in a strong voice introduces us to the Rev. Dr. B. 
 We have met him on the street many times, but he 
 always turned his head away from our side of the 
 street, apparently afraid we should think he noticed 
 us. Once we heard of his calling us respectable- 
 looking females, but wished we had a better calling; 
 now by the sick-bed, we have a civil introduction to 
 him. 
 
 \Ve are about to bow towards him, but lie holds 
 his head a-> stiff as his white cravat, and bv no sign, 
 or move, does he show that he recognizes the '-nig 
 ger teachers." \Ve brieilv inquire after the health 
 of our friend, and walk towards the door. Mrs. D. 
 who would be a peace- maker if she could, calls out, 
 "Don't go\ ivc*rc goit? to pray!" 
 
 Exit teachers, leaving the doctor of divinity to 
 do his own praying that time, and we make our way 
 to the colonel's, where we are boarding, and report, 
 for the colonel and wife are members of the same 
 church as Mrs. Dillam. 
 
VISITING THE SI ,K. 153 
 
 "Cast-iron prejudice, ma'am," says the colonel, 
 wno has lived South a decade. "When do you think 
 the blacks of our country, will get even-handed jus 
 tice, and be permitted unmolested to go on their 
 way towards civilization, with as good educational 
 advantages, as the whites? About how long is this 
 state of things to continue?" 
 
 "Until Gabriel blows his trumpet," says a guest 
 who has heard the account of the day's doings. 
 
 "If the preachers frown upon those who help 
 the lowly, what right have they to represent him 
 who came meek and lowly, not having where to lav 
 his head? I'd rather have one prayer of old Uncle 
 Charley's, who feels so humble, he's afraid he won't 
 "git in", than to have the pious prayers of the likes 
 of him, until he comes to judgment," says the inde 
 pendent-minded colonel. 
 
 "And the publican, standing afar off, would not 
 lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote 
 upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a 
 sinner. For every one that exalteth himself shall 
 be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be 
 exalted." Luke xviii. 13, 14. 
 
 "They are slaves who fear to speak, 
 For the fallen and the weak; 
 They are slaves who dare not be, 
 In the right with two or three." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 AN INCIDENT. 
 
 "Ann's come through!" said a colored girl to the 
 ,eacher, "an' she's shouted for three days, an' she 
 can't hold her baby she's dat full o' glory, she don' 
 eat a bite. An' ef yo please, ma'am, will you jes' 
 cum out on de gallery, fur she's cum tu see ye." 
 
 "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the 
 leopard his spots? then may ye also do good, that 
 are accustomed to do evil." 
 
 "Nay," said a by-stander, "the Ethiopian can't 
 change his skin, but he who made the skin can, for 
 Ann's nearly white." 
 
 The teacher passed out on the porch, and down 
 the steps to meet Ann, who was saying, "Glory, 
 glory," in a hoarse whisper, her voice all used up 
 with her three days of shouting, and the glory shin 
 ing through the black face, so that it was lighted up 
 from within, like a cloud with a silver lining; the 
 glory from the throne shone through, 
 
 '54 
 
AN INCIDENT. 15^ 
 
 "Ann, have you found Jesus?" asked the teach 
 er. No answer, only the words, "Glory, glory !" and 
 the look of heavenly peace, so different from any 
 thing on earth, that the black face looked whiter 
 than ever it used to. She put out her arms, as the 
 teacher went down the steps to meet her, and though 
 the teacher was a taller and heavier woman than 
 herself, she lifted her bodily from the ground, still 
 continuing her hoarse whisper of "Glory, glory." 
 
 Said a by-stander, "Now, I know how they 
 looked on the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spir 
 it was poured on the people." 
 
 Two or three colored people near by wiped the 
 tears from their eyes, to see Ann so different, and 
 from the quarters not far from the big house, came 
 a shout of "Hallelujah! Ann's cum through!" Ann 
 had to be led by the hand away to her cabin, so filled 
 she could scarcely walk, but apparently not excited 
 and still saying "Glory, glory !" 
 
 "And also upon the servants and upon the hand 
 maids, in those days, will I pour out my spirit;" Joel 
 ii. 29. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AT HOME. 
 
 A teacher's home in the state of Mississippi 
 three lady teachers writing. The room has a large 
 lire-place in it; sides and top of the room ceiled with 
 unpainted pine boards. The furniture consists of 
 four splint-bottomed chairs, a white pine table, such 
 as many housekeepers use in their kitchens at the 
 North, a looking-glass, and a few shelves filled with 
 books. The floor has been scoured to whiteness by 
 Lu, the fifteen hundred dollar cook, that is what she 
 sold for in slave times, who is cmploved by the 
 American Missionary Association to take care of the 
 teachers who are in charge of a school of two hun 
 dred colored scholars of all shades of complexion, 
 and whose ages range from six to fifty years. Some 
 are in day school, some in evening, and all in Sun 
 day-school. 
 
 Enter Lu with her head turbaned in a red ban- 
 
 156 
 
AT HOME. 157 
 
 dana handkerchief, and dressed in cloth of the coarse 
 material manufactured at the South for the women 
 field hands. Her shining black face speaks volumes 
 as she says, "Ders a white lady at de do', ma'am ; 
 shall I bring her in ?" 
 
 "Certainly, Lu", says a teacher; "why do you 
 keep the lady waiting ?" "Dunno, ma'am, spec's she 
 aint no 'count, don' any white 'uns come tu see de 
 teachers much; de's mostly feared o' da dignity, 
 'pears like." 
 
 Enter Mrs. Dillam and niece with arms full of 
 millinery goods; they have been shopping, and stop 
 to rest and chat. These are the only two white 
 ladies in a place of five thousand inhabitants, who 
 ever call on northern teachers. After introductions 
 the subject of work is the conversation. 
 
 "Always at it", says Mrs. Dillam to one of the 
 teachere, who had lain down her pen and taken up 
 her knitting; "ther's the knitting, and her's the 
 patchwork for the bed quilt. I should knowyouuns 
 wuz from the north, by the way you git at bizziness- 
 I thought I knowed a heap 'bout work, but sen' the 
 surrender, I've been a goin' to New York, mostly 
 once a year, tu keep my millinery a flyin', an' I've 
 kep' my eyes and ears open, an' I've larned a heap 
 'bout duin' things. When I got married and found 
 I had a poor man tu git a livin' fur me, I sez I'm 
 gwine tu help him; an' I jes' worked at pickin' cot 
 ton, an' hoin' in the field, an' totin' brush, till I had 
 great whelks on my hands; an' that wan't the worst 
 on it, nuther. I hadn't been married but three 
 
l$ SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 weeks afore I found out I'd married a drunkard, 
 though I didn't know it 'til my man had been in a 
 fight and cum home with only the neck band, and 
 one wristband left of his shirt, and all covered with 
 blood; and jes' as he got into the kitchen over he 
 went, and lay thare in a dead drunk; an' what do 
 you spose I did. I got water and washed his face, 
 and I pulled off his boots, an' got him on the bed, 
 an' then I sot down and had a good cry; we'd 
 only been married three weeks, remember. Bimeby 
 I sez tu myself: 'Mary', sez I, you'r equal tu this 
 situation by the help o' the Lord!' And when he 
 cum out o'that drunk, I got him the best meal o' 
 vittals I knew how; an' after that when he got 
 drunk, I'd wait 'til he got partly over it, and I'd git 
 him a good meal every time. I'd fetch on every 
 thing I knew he liked, an' I set my common sense tu 
 work, tu win him back from whisky; and* after 
 three years I fetched him. 
 
 "One day when he'd been on a drunk, an' got 
 over his spree, he looked up to me, an' he sez, Mary, 
 what makes you better tu me when I'm drunk than 
 when I'm sober?' 
 
 "An' I says 4 Seth, I want you tu have all the 
 good things ye kin in this world, fur you aint a livr.i' 
 fur no other; ther's a better world 'an this, an' I'm 
 bound fur it, but you'rgwine away frtim it, an' gwine 
 tu hev all your comfort in this world, an' I'm gwine 
 tu help ye, fur ye aint much time tu enjoy 'em, that 
 pizen liquor'll soon fetch ye.' 
 
 "What said the Bear?" joined in the Boston 
 lady. 
 
AT HOME. 
 
 '59 
 
 "Why, ma'am, he jes' burst into tears, an' sez 
 he, 'Mary, I'll never tech another drap!' An' sure 
 enuff he didn't; an' I kep' on a pray in' right smart 
 fur him, an' when the next covenant day cum round, 
 he wuz ready tu jine the meetin' ; an' he's been dead tu 
 year now." 
 
 "Praise the Lord!" chimed in the Methodist 
 teacher. 
 
 "But laws", continued the milliner, "I aint no 
 whar' long side o' these Yankee wimmen; they most 
 ly knows how tu du everything, and aint afeared o' 
 lowerin' their dignity, nuther. 
 
 "Here went ole Uncle Manuel past my house 
 one day last week, with his sled and oxen, a totin' a 
 quarter o' beef, gwine tu bring it tu the colonel; an' 
 I sez, the colonel's dun gone tu Shelby, acid leftthe 
 school-ma'ams an' the black'uns tu keep house fur 
 thenext five days. An' Manuel he's afeard the meat 
 'ud spile, afore the colonel cum back, and he made a 
 big time amongtheblack'tins tu know what tu du with 
 that meat. Aunt Cassie she called Ben, an' Ben call 
 ed Joe, an' Joe called Sam, an' next cum Lilly, an' 
 thar' wuz seven o' them black'uns, an' nary one on 
 'em knowed what tu du to keep that meat frum 
 spilin' over Sunday. Lilly she said, "Hang it down 
 in de well!" An' Joe said, "Salt it"; an' bimeby 
 Uncle Manuel said he'd ax dem school-ma'ams 'bout 
 it: an' one on 'em laid down the pen she's a writin' 
 with, an' took up a little red-covered book, writ full 
 o' receipts, an' read 'bout puttin' saltpeter, an' sugar, 
 tin' salt together, an' makin' a brine tu civer it, an' 
 
l6o SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDM EN . 
 
 called it cornin' it; an' she said 'Leave the beef tu 
 Cassie an' me', ami sent the black'uns tu their work ; 
 an' she showed Aunt Cassie how tu cut the beef; an' 
 Cas. says she knowed every muscle in the critter, an' 
 told the name of it. 
 
 "When the colonel an' his lady got back, that 
 beef wuz all right, and they said they never seen 
 better; and Uncle Manuel wuz powerful glad, an' 
 sed, that little Yankee school-ma'am helped him a 
 heap; an' he seed books an' larnin' don't spile people 
 as has sense; an' he didn't know afore that larnin VI 
 help a poor man like that. An' the teacher didn't 
 act as ef it hurt her dignity a mite, by no 
 means; an' wen they got hum, she wuz a settin' out 
 on de gallery, an' ole Uncle Isaiah wuz thare a get- 
 tin' her tp write his will; an' she took hold an' writ 
 that will, just as ef she'd allers been a lawyer, an' 
 used tu the bizziness. Tell ye I never had no 
 patience with them kind o' people as is forever run- 
 nin' round after their influence. There's a heap on 
 'em in these parts, an' cum to simmer it down, thev 
 lu-tuft no mo re influence than a yallcr dog /" 
 
 "Well," chimed in the Michigan teacher, "tcvV/ 
 the shiftless blacks ever get at work, and do any 
 thing for themselves? They've been free now 
 nearly eleven years, and many of them are fearfully 
 in debt, and debt always takes the courage out of 
 people. You know the Bible says, 'Owe no man 
 any thing'." 
 
 "Wai, now, you hit the nail on the head every 
 time," says Mrs. Dillam; "but ivhat made the blacks 
 
AT HOME. l6l 
 
 so shiftless? Aitit it about a hundred years or more 
 o' slavery dun the bizziness? Don't the heft o' peo 
 ple work poorly ef they'r driv tu it? An' when 
 they's sot free they thought they must imitate the 
 whites; an' all the wimmen went tu wearin' hoops 
 and calico, instead o' the coarse cotton cloth they 
 used tu in slave times; an' they had great families 
 an' mostly worked ole masser's land on shares, ar* 
 he'd bring 'em out in debt at the end of the year, an' 
 they couldn't figger tu tell whether he wuz right or 
 wrong. But they'v larned a heap, sen they started 
 in tu skule; an' sum on 'em aint a stealin' so much 
 as they wuz, nuther. Tell ye poverty an' slavery'd 
 make "white ^uns steal; an' ye can't spect more o' the 
 niggers, kin ye? Ther's a mighty sight on 'em, 
 mor'n five millions, they say, 'sides the thousands o' 
 poo' white trash; an' I tell ye its ahead o' my 'rith- 
 metic, how they's gwine tu git teached, when these 
 yereold slave-holders, as owns all the land, aint wil- 
 lin' tu see the niggers larn, fur fear they'll git above 
 them; when ef we only knowed it, larnin'd du all 
 on us good. 
 
 "All the time I ever took to larn tu write in 
 wuz four clays, an' I didn't have no teacher, nuther; 
 but I kin make crow's tracks that people kin read, 
 an' I kin read my Bible, an' it helps a heap; an' I 
 wouldn't give what little larnin' I hev away, not fur 
 a pretty It helps tu know sutthin' ef it aint abring- 
 ri ? in dollars an' cents oilers. We aint a gwine tu 
 carry nun o' this world's goods tu the next; an' 
 'pears like sum on us is gittin' thar mighty fast. 
 
1 62 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREBPMEX. 
 
 What is it the good boo* sez aoout the time a llyin' 
 like a weaver? School-ma'am, may be you'll tell 
 us?" 
 
 "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle." 
 Job vii. 6. 
 
 "Yes, poor ole Job, he knew suthiii' about it; 
 but ef he'd a lived in slave times, an' been sot free, 
 with not so much giv' him, as rags tu dress his biles 
 with, ye reckon he wouldn't a had need of a heap 
 more o' patience 'an he did hev? I'm mighty tired 
 a seein' people fall out, an' bite an' devour one an 
 other like the Kilkenny cats 'til one eats tother up; 
 'taint no wise 'cordin' tu Scripture tu see civilized 
 nations a duin' it. The nigs is free an' we oter help 
 'em tu. They aint tu blame fur bein' black: an' 
 sum on 'em feels mighty bad about it tu. Thar's 
 that nice-lookin' Mary Tims, that's larned tu play the 
 pianner, an' a heapo' things, said not long sen, she'd 
 be willin' tu be skinned all over, ef she could only 
 be white. Tell ye that made me feel as ef we 
 ortenter be a teazin' people 'cause they's black; they 
 can't help it, an' I've jes' spiked my gun an that 
 question sum time ago. 
 
 Speakin' o' workin', an' larnin', ma'am, ye can't 
 compare the North an' South in them things. 
 They's different, but one can't git along without 
 tother. Down yer we raise the cotton, an' up thar 
 they spin and weave it, an' 'bout the's workin' ques 
 tion up North they begin at the picaninnies when 
 they'r mighty young, an' they teach 'em laziness is 
 a sin! Didn't I see 'em givin' the little 'uns their 
 
AT HOME. 163 
 
 chores tu du ; one little chap 'bout four years old, 
 brung in the kindlin's, an' one fetched wood, an' an 
 other toted water; and one littler'n all on 'em sot the 
 chairs by the table, an' thar wuz two servants in the 
 family, and a heap o' hired men, an' they wont allow 
 ed tu help them youngsters, each had his own work, 
 an' dun it, an' it wuz good fur 'em tu: but, Mat, you 
 an' me'd better be a travel in' or night'll be here afore 
 we git our supper a bilin'. Good evenin', ladies; 
 good evenin' all. Cum round an' see where we stay, 
 when ye git tired o' hum," Exit Mrs. D. and niece. 
 
C H A P 1 E R X X X 1 1. 
 
 RECREATION. 
 
 Saturday, the teachers' holiday, and we are 
 seven of us bound for a ride on the s>hcll road that, 
 for eight or ten miles, winds along the shore of 
 Mobile Bay. The road has been built of oyster 
 shells, pounded in so tight, the labor must have been 
 immense. The shells have whitened by wind and 
 tide, until the road looks like the milky way on land, 
 and at a distance seems like a line of li^ht alom>- the 
 
 f> o 
 
 shore of the bay. There are many line carriages 
 from the city, four miles away. The people are 
 riding for health, or pleasure. The view of the 
 harbor, with its fishing vessels and shipping in the 
 distance, is enchanting. We pass many long em 
 bankments of earth-works the people of Mobile made 
 in war time, when they forgot that the city could 
 be approached by gun-boats, and they could be 
 shelled behind the embankments. The earth- works 
 
RECREATION. 165 
 
 are quite high, leaving the ground at their base very 
 like a ditch, and the stagnant water standing in the 
 ditches, makes the country anything but pleasant. 
 
 We are on our way to visit a colored man a 
 hundred years old, who says he was a servant of 
 General Washington. He lives in a log cabin, with 
 two rooms; the one in which we find him contains a 
 bed coarsely attired, a fire-place, a chair or two, and a 
 gun standing in the corner of the room, he says 
 Washington gave him. He is coarsely dressed, and 
 his woolly hair is as white as snow. He walks with 
 difficulty with the aid of two canes; says he has many 
 visitors, who always leave him a piece or two of money, 
 and his old woman raises chickens and garden truck, 
 and so they manage to keep soul and body together. 
 His woman is absent, but will be back soon, he in 
 forms us, and asks us to sit down. We begin to 
 wonder why our country don't take better care of 
 Washington's body-servants, or if he is a fraud. 
 He talks of battles, and mentions La Fayette, but 
 never says a word about the heavenly country, as do 
 so many aged ones of his race. We wonder if he 
 knows the language of Canaan, and one of our party 
 asks him. if he is ready to meet the Prince of peace, 
 who has promised to bring his people where there 
 shall be no more war. Alas, we find him in mid 
 night darkness for over and again he declares, he 
 "aint never dun nothin' tu be sorry for; he aint dun 
 nothin' bad, and reckons God won't lay nothin' tu 
 him." We hear none of the high praises of Jesus, 
 nor any song of Zion from him, and after we have 
 
l66 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMKN. 
 
 sung for him, and spoken to him of the great 
 Shepherd who says "all souls are mine," we leave 
 him, regretting that he has not in his hundred years, 
 found the pearl of great price, and wondering if he 
 will fail of the great object of life, viz., the salvation 
 of his soul. One remarks, "Well, it is true, that God 
 has put a difference between him, who serveth him, 
 and him who serveth him not;" and we remember it 
 is written, "The sinner being an hundred years old 
 shall be accursed." Isaiah Ixv. 20. 
 
 On our homeward ride, we stop at the travelers' 
 rest, which is a monstrous live oak tree, on the shore 
 of the bay. A platform ten feet high has been built 
 up among the branches of the tree, and a protected 
 staircase leads up to it. Here are tables built in 
 a circular form around the tree, and seats where 
 travelers may sit and spread their lunch, and look off 
 upon the bay, covered by the branches of the grand 
 old tree, that looks old enough to have been growing 
 there when Columbus played a boy in the streets of 
 Genoa. Many hundreds of travelers have at dif 
 ferent times rested under the covering branches of 
 this mammoth tree. Our cook has anticipated our 
 appetites, after our dozen miles of riding, and our 
 bread and butter and bananas disappear like a school 
 boy's lunch, as we chat and rest. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 UNCLE HARVEY 
 
 On page 62 of this book is his picture. He 
 was a Baptist minister, and a very godly man. His 
 church had a basement story, where the writer 
 taught a colored school for a year. He wanted so 
 much to build a baptistery, where his people could 
 be baptized, instead of going a mile to the river, 
 that he worked all summer to accomplish his object. 
 He dug a deep hole in the ground, working faith 
 fully through sunshine and storm, always saying he 
 was going to make a pool. Day after day he worked) 
 until his pool presented the appearance of a 
 plunge bath at a water cure establishment. Like 
 the cradle of Moses, he had to line it with boards, 
 and pitch it within and without with pitch, to pre 
 vent its leaking; also he made steps to go to the 
 bottom of it; but when it was done he didn't know 
 where to get the water to fill it with. It was large 
 167 
 
l6S SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 enough to hold thirty barrels of water, and the 
 labor of drawing it was more than his people could 
 do; so he set about digging a well, and week after 
 week he toiled at it, until he was rewarded h\ seeing 
 plenty of water in it. 
 
 Many who had laughed at the perseverance of 
 the good old man, r.ow began to wonder if he'd ever 
 have any converts to baptize in his pool. Not .nanv 
 weeks passed, before twenty converts were ready for 
 baptism, and the good man seemed too happy for 
 this world. Sometimes he would ask the teachers 
 to explain what "One Lord, one faith, one baptism." 
 Eph. iv. 5, mea-nt; and when told it meant 
 the baptism of the Holy Spirit, he would say, "That 
 may be, ma'am," but Methodist and IJaptists both 
 immerse in this country, and ef a person goes under 
 water, then he knows he's buried with Christ in 
 baptism. 
 
 When free schools first started in Mississippi 
 for white and black people, Uncle Ilarvev was one 
 of the first scholars who presented himself. Karlv 
 on Monday morning he came, leaning on his staff, 
 declaring he had been manv years praving to%ee this 
 day, and when the superintendent told him none 
 over twenty-one years could attend school, his dis 
 appointment was great; and as lie passed out of the 
 school room, where a hundred children were singing 
 at their morning exercises, "We are rising as a 
 people," the tears rolled from his cheeks. For a few 
 minutes he stopped in the hall, to ask a teacher if 
 there would be night school for such as he, and soon 
 
I7O SEVEN YDARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 passed on down the stairs, saying he had met with 
 the greatest disappointment of his life. 
 
 He could read the Bible poorly, but some of his 
 sermons were simply grand. Sometimes he would 
 say, "Church! ef you has had anything to do wid 
 grace you'll stop tattlin' an' stealin;' an' you all jes' 
 call tu mind dat de Lord sees ye, an' he aint gwine 
 tu be fooled. He knows whether you's a hypocrite 
 or a backslider, an' he aint oilers gwine tu wait. 
 You chillens her's a verse fur you all: "The eye 
 that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his 
 mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, 
 and the young eagles shall eat it." Prov. xxx. 17- 
 You'uns better be a cummin' tu de ark, fur safety! 
 Sinner man! turn squar 'round, an' blow de trumpet 
 o'de New Jerusalem towards heaven! Sinner man! 
 God saw you when yo dun stole dat pig! Church! 
 ef you 'uns '11 pray three times a day, morning, noon, 
 an' night, we'll hear frum heaven soon. 
 
 Uncle Harvey didn't live long after the close of 
 school, and on his death-bed called his friends around 
 him, and as is the custon in places South, drank from 
 a glass of water, and the glass was passed from one 
 to another, each drinking while the dying pastor 
 exhorted them to drink with him of the Holy Spirit^ 
 and to meet him in heaven. At the funeral of this man 
 of God, the whole community followed him to the 
 grave, for his deep piety impressed all, and they 
 seemed to love him as a father. 
 
 "Them that honour me I will honour, and they 
 that despise me shall be lightly esteemed." I Sam. 
 ii. 30. 
 
CHAPTER XXXlVo 
 
 FRIENDS WHO STOOD BY US. 
 
 Step lightly, we tread on historical ground, 
 Here American babies, once sold by the pound. 
 
 The picture on page 99 of this book represents 
 friends who stood by us during our arduous la- 
 bors among the freedmen of the' South. They 
 were not of the poorest. The dress the woman 
 wears in the picture is of silk material. Before the 
 war they had bought their freedom, and had saved 
 $500 in silver money. Once during the war, when 
 a regiment of soldiers were coming from Mobile to 
 Meridian, they rode on the train with -them. Mrs. 
 F. said, "I had our silver in a basket under my feet, 
 using it as a footstool, and there came an alarm, and 
 the soldiers filed out, and left the car empty, and I 
 run out too, and never thought of my basket. The 
 alarm proved to be little or nothing, and when the 
 soldiers filed into the car again, I cum a runnin' in, 
 
 171 
 
172 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 makin' a big fuss, a cry in' out, Whar's im basket?' 
 I thought I'd dun lost it sure; an' a soldier in de seat 
 whare it wuz, called out, 'Her's your basket, auntie ! ( 
 He didn't know I had de silver in it, dat Tom an' 
 me bought our barber shop with. But Iv'e had war 
 'miff? When de blue coats cum long, da dun took 
 all my flour and taters, and in a few days de rebs 
 cum long, an' da took my butter an' de pig I had 
 hid away, an I jes' begged 'em tu spare me a little; 
 an' duz ye spose da did? By no means. Da sez 
 stan' back; an' dey dun took de hull! 
 
 "Duz ye see yon big hotel? A Presbyterian 
 elder keeps it, an' in de wah time he dun had de 
 secesh flag a hangin' out, an' all de rebs officers in 
 dese parts used tu make de headquarters thar; an' 
 when he knowed Sherman's army wuz a gittin' 
 mighty near, an' all de rebs left him, he dun hung 
 out de ole stars an' stripes; an' whende gineral's staff 
 cum in sight, he dun got all his wimmen folks, an' 
 all de black 'uns on de place, an' put 'em in two rows, 
 as straight as two rows o' corn, each side o' dat walk 
 a leadin' up tu de do, an' he dun stood on one side, 
 an' his lady she stood on one side, an' as de gineral 
 rode up he lifted his hat mighty mannerly, an' said, 
 "Gineral, me an' my people's at yo service tu 
 git ye de best meal o' vittalsde house contains." An' 
 de gineral said, 'Stan' aside!' An' he guv orders tu 
 tech de torch tu de big house mighty quick; an' 
 yon's de only house in de town da didn't burn.' Sum 
 wun tole de gineral dar wuz a mighty sick man in 
 
FRIENDS WHO STOOD BY US. 173 
 
 dat, an 9 he tole 'em tu pass on ! an da didn't burn dat 
 house, 
 
 "Ma'am, da say de good book sez, dar wuz wah 
 in heaven onc't, but I aint spectin' dar ever will be 
 again; is you all? 'Cause I's jes' hopin' tu go whar 
 war aint; an' I's mighty glad de dove o'peace is a 
 roostin' in dese parts now fur shore." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 WEIGHING THE COTTON. 
 
 We are teaching in one of the finest cotton 
 growing portions of Mississippi. The colored people 
 work the land or shares; after the cotton is picked 
 and baled, it has to be weighed by the town weigher. 
 There are three cotton pickings, the second one 
 affording more cotton than either of the others. A 
 day is fixed upon by the town weigher, and the 
 cotton from a certain distance in the country round 
 about, must be brought to him on that day. All da v 
 long we have seen teams passing, drawing cotton to 
 town. Some have ponderous wagons, with a pair of 
 oxen and a pair of mules in front, and three bales of 
 cotton, the year's crop, is being hauled to the scales. 
 Here is a man drawing a bale on a miserable dray, 
 with an ox and a mule harnessed together, in front 
 of his dray. Men, women, and children go to town 
 to trade on weighing dav. The merchants of the 
 "174 
 
WEIGHING THE COTTON. 175 
 
 town have been allowing the blacks to trade out their 
 crop for some time past, and a good share of the 
 year's crop is already spent. "And the merchants 
 will take the rest of it", says some one acquainted 
 with their ways. The blacks buy like so many 
 children ; accustomed to depending on "ole masser" for 
 everything, it will take a generation, and more too, 
 for them to learn economy; and many haven't self- 
 denial enough to wish to learn it. "As a nation they 
 lack forethought", says some one, who has lived 
 among them. Here is one man who needs all kinds 
 of things for his family, and he has bought eight 
 pounds of candy, to treat his children with on the 
 coming Christmas days. Swarms of people go past, 
 dressed in every way. Yonder is a man with a 
 patchwork bed-quilt, he is wearing as a shawl. The 
 children need school books, and warm clothing, but 
 here comes a large boy, with a new drum his father 
 has bought for him. We try to get them to stop 
 these extravagant ways, but one says, "We wants 
 things like we sees de white 'uns have, fur de chil- 
 len's." A teacher says, "It's the old story, of get 
 ting things because I like to, and there's no economy 
 among them : one is reminded of the boy who told 
 his father he could go barefoot all summer, and 
 could wear his old slouch hat another year, but was 
 suffering for a <-buzzum piif; all the boys had one, 
 and he must have a buzzum pin too" 
 
 But the cotton is weighed, and the tobacco ( one 
 man has bought twelve pounds, and a few dimes of 
 change are due him; and when asked by the 
 
176 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEX. 
 
 merchant, what he'll take for it, says, "I'll take 
 the balance in tobacco ; ifs bad to be out"), and candy, 
 are bought for the Christmas near at hand; and long 
 after night-fall, we hear the people and teams go 
 past on their homeward way; some of them so full 
 of songs and noise, we fear that many have used a 
 part of the year's cotton crop for strong drink, and 
 we wonder when the temperance reform will reach 
 this part of our country. 
 
 "Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wis 
 dom: and with all thy getting get understanding". 
 Prov. iv. 7. 
 
 "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with 
 thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor 
 knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou 
 goest." Eccl. ix. 10. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A NEGRO POLITICAL MEETING. 
 
 A southern city a hundred and fifty colored 
 men ; half a dozen white ones supposed to be favor 
 able to the blacks. The meeting is called to order, 
 in the evening, in the large chapel, where a high 
 school for colored people convenes in the day time. 
 The room is fully lighted by means of side lamps; a 
 white man is moderator of the meeting; he sits on a 
 chair on a platform at the end of the room, holding 
 a gavel in his hand, which he often brings down on 
 the table in front of him, saying, "Order here!" 
 
 Different colored men make five-minute speeches, 
 each saying, "We wants men in office, who will see 
 dat our chillen's has schools, an' we has our rights, 
 like de white 'uns." 
 
 Somebody has brought a suspicious-looking 
 jug, and placed it in the corner of the room, and 
 many of the politicians are attracted towards the jug. 
 177 
 
I7S SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMEN. 
 
 One calls out, "Pass that tin cup this way", and 
 something in a tin cup is passed until many have 
 drunk freely; then half a dozen are on their feet at 
 once, and try to nominate officers to be elected. One 
 says, "We'd git on a heap better, ef de white men'd 
 keep de whisky out." 
 
 Presently a dozen are on their feet at once. The 
 moderator pounds the table with his gavel, and ci ies 
 "Order", all to no purpose. Mr. T., who is a peace 
 maker, a stout colored man, subject to hemorrhages 
 of the lungs, mounts a bench and cries "Peace, 
 Brothers! let us have peace!" They are his last 
 words, for the blood begins to pour from his mouth 
 and nostrils, and he is carried like a dead man to his 
 room, in the rear of the college. His wife, a fine 
 looking colored woman, has been cook at the school 
 ever since it started. 
 
 A reign of terror has begun, and the blacks 
 who fear they'll be blamed for the trouble, and who 
 are frightened at the blood, run this way and that, 
 towards their homes, until not enough can be found 
 to do the errands, now needful for the apparently 
 dying man. Mr. P., an officer under the American 
 Missionary Association, is asleep in his room in the 
 building, and is summoned to the scene. The faith 
 ful servant John, who was taught the prayer 
 mentioned on page 88 of this book, pounds at the 
 door of the teacher's room at midnight, saying, "Mr. 
 T. is dying. Teacher, won't you come quick ?" 
 
 "A physician is needed, but the colored physician 
 is miles away, and it's doubtful if you can get the 
 
I So SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FKEEDMEN. 
 
 white one," says Mr. P., who is master of the situa 
 tion, and the only person with much presence of 
 mind. The blood oozes from the mouth and nostrils 
 of the politician, and something must be done soon, 
 or his life will go. They won't get the doctor if ten 
 of the colored ones go for him, they are so scared 
 they can't do anything. 
 
 "Can yo' go for the doctor,'' says Mr. P. " 1 
 can't leave to go, and I fear the man will die." 
 
 With a colored girl for company, in the middle 
 of the night, the teacher goes for the doctor, seven 
 blocks distant. Reaching the elegant mansion of the 
 learned doctor, who practices among the rich, she 
 rings the bell once or twice, and at length succeeds 
 in rousing the family watchman, a stout colored 
 man, who demands from the inside, "Who's thare?" 
 The messenger tells him hastily of the case, and the 
 urgent need of the doctor's help, and in a few min 
 utes brings us word that the doctor will see us, and 
 hids us enter, after he has commanded a monstrous 
 biood-hotind to lie down, that stands near the 
 encrance to the waiting room. The gentlemanly 
 and learned doctor makes his appearance, clad in a 
 beautiful dressing-gown and slippers, and after hear 
 ing our statement of the case, shakes his head, ask 
 ing "Who's your physician?" We tell him Dr. B., 
 a colored man, educated North, and a fine physician. 
 As the doctor stands under the gas-light, we look 
 expectantly for help, but over his face comes a doubt 
 ful expression, as he says, "I don't practice with 
 Dr. B." 
 
A NEGRO POLITICAL MEETING. l8l 
 
 "But Dr. B. is miles away," says the teacher: 
 "we fear the man will die. Will you come under 
 these circumstances?" 
 
 "No," says the doctor; "if it was a white man I 
 could." 
 
 We ask him for his opinion, and what to do for 
 the sufferer. He gives advice: mustard for the feet, 
 sips of warm salted water, if the patient is conscious 
 on our return. 
 
 We hastily take our way back to the school 
 building, and to the sick chamber, where the few 
 colored people, who are not frightened away, and 
 the faithful officer of the A. M. A. are trying to re 
 store the suffering politician, and begin our fight 
 with death. The mustard is found and applied to 
 the feet, the warm water and other helps, but in vain, 
 for just as the morning sun breaks in upon the 
 scene, the unfortunate, and quite popular colored 
 man, called the peace-maker, closes his eyes and is 
 done with the scenes of earth. 
 
 The cook, his wife, who has all the time been 
 groaning, in almost an hysterical manner, begins 
 shrieking, "My God, he's died in his sins! He's died 
 in his sins!" In vain do we try to comfort her, and 
 for two days, she moans most of the time, but rouses 
 herself to go to the head teacher, and ask for two 
 pounds of coffee, saying, it is the custom for the peo 
 ple to have an all-night prayer-meeting, around the 
 dead, and they drink coffee. 
 
 The coffee is placed on a table, and whoever 
 will, help themselves. In an hour or two the body 
 
l82 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE 1 lUiEDMEN. 
 
 of the dead man is laid out on a board, and covered 
 with a white sheet, on which is pinned sprigs of 
 evergreen, and at night, what one of the teachers 
 calls a wake (an all-night prayer- meeting ),ia inaugm - 
 ated. They don't pray for the dead, but for them 
 selves. 
 
 We leave them to their strange custom, and 
 wish for better civilization. A friend accustomed to 
 their ways, says, "It's well they only wanted coffee 
 to drink, for they often drink something stronger, on 
 such occasions. The second day after the death of the 
 man, he is buried by a society whose business it is to 
 bury the dead. Any one can be a member of the 
 society, by payment of twenty-five cents; and if the 
 member be a householder, no charge is made for 
 funeral expenses of himself, or family. 
 
 The society came into existence soon after the 
 close of the war, and is of real benefit to the very 
 poor. It is called the Love and Charity Society; 
 they march with banners, and the pall-bearers wear 
 white cotton gloves. The funeral is held in the 
 room where the political meeting convened. The 
 ignorant sermon of an hour's length is by a colored 
 preacher, which would be hard to endure, only that 
 the grand solemn songs, and the sympathetic prayers 
 are better than cordials, and refresh soul and body. 
 Carnages have been hired for the long funeral train, 
 and one is sent for the use of. the teachers, who join 
 in the procession, and follow the poor man to his last 
 resting place in the city of the dead. 
 
 Unwittingly, this time, we have won the admi- 
 
A NEGRO POLITICAL MEETING. 183 
 
 ration of the elite, who live on College Street, in 
 sight of the day's performances, and one of the ex- 
 slave holding ladies, sends us word, "Tell the teacher 
 ladies, I think a heap more of 'em than I did. I 
 didn't think they'd follow a dead colored man 
 to the grave; but sure enough when we git to the 
 grave, guess we'll be about alike;" and still further 
 she says to a favorite old servant, "Tim, that's just 
 the way I'm going to help bury you." The lady 
 owns a beautiful greenhouse, and after awhile, sends 
 us the choicest flowers in blossom. 
 
 "It's hard to be black, ma'am," says the old cook, 
 as we try to give her words of comfort. "If my 
 man had been white, he'd have had a doctor in his 
 last hours. Duz you think the good book is true 
 where it says of one blood are all nations of men? 
 Don't it say so?" 
 
 "Yes; Acts xvii. 26." 
 
 "Duz ye reckon God luvesde black 'uns, so well 
 as de white?" 
 
 "He sent his son to die for them, and he says, he 
 'is no respecter of persons: * * * but in every 
 nation, he that feareth him, and ivorkcth righteous 
 ness, is accepted with him." 1 
 
 "Duz it say that," says the sorrowing woman. 
 "Ef I work righteousness, is I accepted of God?" 
 
 "So God says." 
 
 "Ef he says it, I's satisfide, an' I can wait; my 
 time '11 come:" and the mournful countenance of the 
 widowed cook seemed to light up with hope once 
 more. 
 
.$4 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 She was a Catholic, and always carried her 
 prayer-book with her. She could read but little, 
 and sometimes would pull her little black covered 
 prayer-book out of her pocket, and bring it to the 
 teacher to get her to read a verse for hen 
 "Jesus is a rock in a weary land, 
 A shelter in a time of storm." 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 SERMONIZING. 
 
 "Will you help Uncle Isaiah get his sermon 
 ready for to-morrow," says the colonel, with whom 
 we are boarding, to a teacher; can you sit out on the 
 veranda and explain his text to him?" 
 
 "Ef you please, ma'am", says the colored preach 
 er, who comes up the steps of the porch, with his 
 stove-pipe hat and cane in his hand, wearing some 
 white person's cast-off suit of seedy black broadcloth, 
 the coat swallow-tailed, which, with his clean white 
 vest, gives him quite a ministerial look. 
 
 He is seated on the broad piazza, on one side of 
 a small table filled with books. The teacher has be 
 sides the Bible, a Concordance, Bible Dictionary, 
 and several other helps to study, and with the col 
 onel's wife and her colored servants, flitting out and 
 into the big plantation house, preparing the food for 
 to-morrow, for it is Saturday, the teacher and preach- 
 185 
 
1 86 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FRKF.DMEN. 
 
 er begin the study of the sermon for the Sabbath. 
 Uncle Isaiah, a middle-aged preacher, as black as a 
 coal, is expected to preach before several hundreds 
 of colored people. 
 
 "Where is the text," says the teacher? "Here 
 in the book of Revelation, ma'am. I never can find 
 out much about the things in this book, ma'am; ain't 
 they put here for us to read an' profit by," says the 
 Ethiopian, scratching his head. "I wants tu know 
 'bout whar it tells of de seals, an' de horses, Rev. vi. 
 2. 'Pears like it's all sealed tu me, an' will you jcs' 
 'splaindis?" 
 
 "And I saw, and behold a white horse; and he 
 that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given 
 unto him; and he went forth conquering and to con 
 quer. And when he had opened the second seal," 
 the horse was red. 
 
 "Won't you please tell me what dat all mean? 
 John he wuz on de Island o' Patmos; wuz dat any- 
 whars nigh dis country ? An' when he wu/ 'lowed 
 tu take a look intti heaven, an' seed what wux gwine 
 on dar, duz you specs de tings is gwine tu take place 
 as he tells 'bout in de book?" 
 
 "'Yes, the dead, small and great, are to stand be 
 fore God, and the sea is to give up the dead, and all 
 are to come to judgment, and those whose names are 
 not written in the book of life, are to be cast into 
 the lake of fire.' Don't it say so? Rev. xx. 12, 13- 
 
 5-" 
 
 "'Yes, an' I's blevin' everything in de book, hut 
 can't git at de meanin* o' de heft of it." 
 
SERMONIZING. 187 
 
 "Neither do many learned people, uncle; but the 
 red horse, mentioned in your text, undoubtedly means 
 war, for don't it say, 'Power was given to him. . . . 
 to take peace from the earth, and that they should 
 kill one another: and there was given unto him a 
 great sword'? Rev. vi. 4." 
 
 "Is dat it? Den I's had 'nuff o' dat horse, fur 
 he dun trampled all troo dese parts, ma'am, an' we 
 all wuz mighty glad wen de surrendur cum, shoo; 
 don' want no mo' o' dat horse nowise. An' de pale, 
 horse, we all is findin' out fast 'nuff 'bout him: de 
 name o' him az sat on de horse wuz death, an' hell 
 followed with him it says. We ain't all gwine tu 
 hell as dies. You jes' please 'splane dat, ma'am." 
 
 "There are two places called hell in the Script 
 ures; one means the grave, and one means the place 
 for the departed spirits of those who die in their sins." 
 
 "Oh! Ah! I seez; it's all plain. De grave, dat 
 ain't a pleasant place noways, an' dey calls it hell; go 
 on, ma'am. I's wantin' tu larn 'bout dem other 
 horses; what de black horse mean?" 
 
 "Some think it means famine. They were 
 weighing out the wheat, and barley: but, uncle, why 
 do you go to Revelation for your sermon? Why 
 not go to the Gospels where it is not so hard to 
 understand. Take the text: 'Blessed are the pure 
 in heart, for they shall see God'; and apply it to all 
 the people, and get them to be pure in heart, if you 
 can, help them to see what God requires of all his 
 disciples, viz., to live godly lives, and to repent of 
 their sins." 
 
I 88 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am ; I's preached a heap from Jesus' 
 Sermon on de Mount, but I's jes' studyin' 'bout de 
 sealed things; an' 'pears like I's wantin, tu git at 
 'em, an' git de right meanin' out on 'em; an' I don' 
 git any furder dan de pale horse an' his rider, an' 
 dem as is in tribulation. Dat means trouble, don' it?" 
 
 "The word tribulation means threshing. Don't 
 you thresh wheat and barley, to separate them from 
 the chaff? So God uses tribulation, of one kind or 
 another, to help his people turn fully to him for the 
 heavenly things he wants to give them in their 
 souls. When people are in tronble' don't they turn 
 more fully to the heavenly father for help and com 
 fort?" 
 
 "'Zactly so, ma'am ; jes' as dat vine yonder sticks 
 tu de live oak de tighter, wen de wind blows; an' 
 wen de storms is dun, de blowin' only makes de root 
 run a leetle deeper, an' take a Icetle better hold, an' 
 grows a leetle faster. I seez how dat is, ma'am ; an' 
 I reckon de good Masser wants his chillens tu have a 
 heap o' patience, an' looks like, tribulation cums long 
 a slappin' 'em, fust one way, den toder, 'til dey gits 
 ready tu hear wot he got tu say tu da souls: an' tribu 
 lation 's jes' as good fur people's souls, as cle strength- 
 nin' plaster is fer de backs; it's jes' dun out o' love tu 
 'em, tu make 'em stronger: an' wen da listens tu 
 Jesus, he dun fix it up all right, fur de poo' troubled 
 soul nowise. Jesus mighty good physician; he can 
 do it, ma'am; but don' he say, ^-search de Scripture S\ 
 an' I's tryin' tu du dat, ma'am. I's jes' wishin' tu 
 love God wid all my heart, an' my neighbor as my- 
 
SERMONIZING. 189 
 
 self, dat's jes de startin' pint; den I's wantin' tu 
 ramble all through de Scriptures, an' see wot it 
 means, w'en it tells o' de seven thunders, an' de river, 
 an' de horses, an' de lightnings, an' whar de angels 
 sounded, an' 'bout de angel as guv de little book tu 
 John, an' he eat it up, an' 'bout de beasts, an' de 
 horns, an' de altars; but, ma'am, I knows him as sits 
 on de cloud, de son of man it says; dat means Jesus! 
 1 ain't speculating ^bout dat 'cause it says they over 
 came by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of 
 their testimony'; an', ma'am, I's one of ''em; fur de 
 blessed Lamb's dun washed me clean hea'*" putting 
 his hand on his breast, "an' now my testimony is 
 every whar of him: but I's powerful ignorant, ma'am, 
 an' a hungerin' fur mo' of Jesus." 
 
 "Not so ignorant as might be," says the colonel, 
 who has just come from his place of business, and 
 passes into the house for his noon-day meal ; for we 
 have sat out the morning hours, trying to ramble 
 through the book of Revelation, and perhaps have 
 failed, but the preacher has the cream of the whole 
 book in his soul, viz.: 
 
 "They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, 
 and by the word of their testimony." 
 
 "It is written.. . .they shall be all taught of 
 God," says the colonel's wife, as we take seats at the 
 dinner table. 
 
 "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst 
 after righteousness: for they shall be rilled." Matt, 
 v. 6. 
 
CHAPTER XXX VI II. 
 
 EXODUS. 
 
 Room for Chloc in the grave-yard, 
 
 But no roorn for her on earth; 
 Room for Milly in heaven, 
 
 But no room beside the hearth. 
 
 Three hundred black families are on their way 
 from Georgia and South Carolina to Texas, to see if 
 they can find rest, for they claim they are so dis 
 turbed and impoverished in the Atlantic states, that 
 they must needs go somewhere. " What have the 
 dark race done" says one, "that they must be so 
 kept under; they have so few rights, they hardly 
 know they're free. In danger of their lives if they 
 vote, hated because they will learn to read; the wish 
 of many seems to be, let 'em shirk for themselves, 
 but we won't have 'em in office; this is a white man's 
 government." 
 
 "I wonder what they're on this side the Atlantic, 
 for" says an ex-slave-holder. 
 
 190 
 
EXODUS. 191 
 
 "Now we's free, we has to be mighty humble," 
 says an old colored woman ; "we has tu bear every 
 thing." 
 
 A number of teachers go into the exodus camp, 
 to give out Sunday-school papers. They have one 
 old man they call the leader, who gives orders when 
 the people are to go forward, and where to stop. 
 The corn for their mules is in common stock, and 
 one old woman seems to be quarreling with the man 
 who is dealing out corn; says she had six bags when 
 she started, and can only find four: the leader says if 
 she had six bags she must have 'em, and he'll see 
 to it. The horses and mules they have, look thin 
 enough to have come through Pharaoh's famine of 
 seven years, and each family seems to have at least a 
 dog for each person. The mules bray, and the dogs 
 fight, and the confusion is chaotic. The leader 
 mounts into a wagon, and gives out the appointments 
 for the morrow, which is the Sabbath. The mothers 
 try to hush the crying children, and listen. 
 
 "Prayer-meeting at sunrise, and preachin'in the 
 mornin' and evenin' " (the blacks call afternoon even 
 ing, and they seldom have any meetings after night 
 fall), ' c at which all are expected to be present, except 
 the police, who are to guard the camp." 
 
 Corn-bread, coffee, and sweet-potatoes, seem 
 to be the bill of fare; each family eats sitting on the 
 ground, in a little circle by themselves, with the dogs 
 just behind them, and the camp wagon and mules 
 close by. 
 
 Sunday morning: The camp has a new appear- 
 
192 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 ance, for from some corner of their scanty stores, 
 many of the people have found a Sunday apron, or 
 dress, and clean clothes, and what few ornaments 
 they have are put on, and the campers observe the 
 Sabbath. 
 
 The leader says to the boys and young men, 
 "Now, don' let God see any o' you a fishin' " ( they are 
 camped near the Tombigbee), "or a huntin,'or swear- 
 in' roun'; but yo' all 'member dis is Sunday. Yo' 
 all know what God 'specs o' us, who is free now; we 
 is free tu serve our Maker to-day." 
 
 The sunrise prayer-meeting is largely attended ; 
 the wagons are wheeled into a circle to furnish seats 
 for the worshipers, and are filled with the waiting 
 congregation, while the ministers have one wagon 
 as a pulpit. The singing, and praying, and preach 
 ing go on, until the woods ring with the noise, and 
 their shouts may be heard far away. In the morn 
 ing they are up before day-break, and are moving 
 on with their long line of clumsy vehicles, filled 
 with living freight, towards the great state of Texas, 
 to see if they can find rest and live unmolested. 
 ********** 
 
 NOTES FROM A SUNDAY SERMON. 
 
 One of the preachers says, "We find Paul ; at 
 first he was a persecutor, but soon's he met Jesus, an' 
 dun got trowed down from the big fine horse he wuz 
 a ridin', an' said, Lawd, what mus' I du,' den he 
 turned squar' round, and we find him a writin' seri 
 ous letters, 'interestiri* letters, tu the Romans, an' 
 
EXODUS. 193 
 
 Hebrews, an' sich. My beloved bredren, it's evi 
 dential he wuz a different Paul after he's converted, 
 an' dis is a memorandum for him." 
 
 "Surely," says one, "that's the *Rev. J. A.," and 
 it is too: he has found his way to the camp, and is 
 preaching for the people. He proceeds to take a 
 vote of the people as to how they will dispose of the 
 collection, and says, "Friends may signify their 
 elevation by rising, and may then retire without the 
 least result in the world. " 
 
 There is a petition to be signed, and sent to 
 Washington, and our friend J. A. is absent, but on 
 his return says to a teacher, "The next time I'm 
 gone, an' it's evidential yo' all hev anything good tu 
 sign, don't stop tu sympathize wid me, put my 
 name right dovon, 'thout any neglection." They 
 sing: 
 
 "He took my feet out the miry clay, 
 He took my feet out the miry clay, 
 
 A waggin' up Zion's hill." 
 and, 
 
 "I want to drink the drink of Zion's children, 
 I want to drink the drink of Zion's children, 
 Religion's so sweet." 
 
 INCIDENT; 
 
 Went home from the camp, expecting the cook 
 to have our dinner ready, but were obliged to get it 
 ourselves. Four hours later, Lu, the cook, arrives, 
 says she went out of an errand, and on her way 
 home stopped at the house of a friend and went to 
 bed, as she had a chill. A lady acquainted with the 
 * Rev. J. A's. picture is on page 138 of this book. 
 
ly} SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE 1 K I. KD.M 1. N . 
 
 climate in this part of Mississippi says, "The people 
 here come into the world in a chill, go through it 
 chilling, and go out of it in a chill;" and the princi 
 pal doctor of the place, shows us on the point of his 
 pen-knife, how much quinine he takes twice a week, 
 to keep chills off. 
 
 Some one remarks, "The South is run by qui 
 nine, coffee, and bacon." 
 
 "Is not this the fast that I have chosen ? to loose 
 the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, 
 and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break 
 every yoke? Is it not to deal thy bread to the 
 hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast 
 out to thy house? When thou seest the naked that 
 thou cover him. * * * Then shalt thou call, and 
 the Lord shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall 
 say, Here I am." Isa. Iviii. 6, 7, 9. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 THE HEAVENLY DANCE. 
 
 It usually began when the preaching was 
 nearly done. Aunt Chloe, or Dinah, would 
 get blest and seemed to be unable to contain the 
 blessing, and would spring to her feet, and begin 
 shaking hands with the nearest one to her, and in a 
 moment the example would be contagious, and two- 
 thirds of the congregation would rise to their feet, 
 each shaking hands with some other, the men on one 
 side of the church, women on the other ;and soon all 
 would swing into the center of the church, in front 
 of* the pulpit, and shouts of some would rend the 
 air, while those who could sing would sing as 
 though their life depended on their making a noise, 
 all the time swaying their bodies up and down and 
 circling among each other, shaking hands, and mov 
 ing feet as if keeping time to the music. The 
 preachers would come down out of the pulpit, and 
 
196 SEVEN YEARS AMONG THE FREBDMEN. 
 
 stand ready for the hand shaking. All would seem 
 either solemn, or joyous, and perhaps after twenty 
 minutes of such exercise, the pastor would lift his 
 hand, when instantly the noise would cease, while he 
 pronounced the benediction, and the worshipers 
 would pass out of the church. 
 
 When the teachers first saw it, they were dumb 
 with amazement. One of the larger scholars, who 
 had participated in the dance, passed near them, and 
 said "That's what is called the Heavenly Dance." 
 The songs usual on the occasion were 
 
 "I wonder Lord will I ever get to heaven 
 
 To walk them golden streets." 
 or, 
 
 "I'm just at the fountain, Lord, 
 That never runs dry." 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 JOURNAL DECEMBER, 1890. 
 
 "So you really passed through the scenes men 
 tioned in your book?" 
 
 "Yes, and more too." 
 
 "And you hope to benefit the cause of the 
 the Freedmen by telling of them?" 
 
 The sp'eaker was a W. C. T. U. sister, and a 
 delegate to the convention lately held at Atlanta, 
 Georgia ; and she went on to say, "The hospitality of 
 the South is unparalleled, and the people there do say, 
 if the North would stop writing and talking about 
 the colored people, and give the southerners a chance 
 to set things right; in short, .if the North would 
 keep still about the South, it would be much better 
 for all ; and don't you really think so, too, deep down 
 in the bottom of your soul ?" 
 
 AFTERNOON OP THE SAME DAY. 
 
 A missionary meeting is going on in one of the 
 
10,8 SKVKN YEARS AMONG THE FKEK!>.MK\. 
 
 busy cities of the state of Illinois. The large room 
 is full of ladies, in the midst of missionary work, 
 when a letter comes from a well-known, and much- 
 beloved teacher of Freedmen, who is pursuing her 
 "heaven-born calling" at the state capital, of one of 
 our southern states. The letter contains a request 
 from the teacher, which reads thus: "Pray for me; 
 for my life is threatened if I don't leave the place, 
 and stop the work." 
 
 This time the opposition is from the "poor 
 whites", of whom there are several thousands in the 
 state. They say they won't have thw niggers going 
 ahead of them. In view of this state of things in 
 one of the Gulf states, will the South please give the 
 North, a chance to keep still, by giving free schools 
 to all its people! 
 
 At the close of the war, it was said there were 
 five millions of colored Americans, South; now it is 
 said there are eight millions, and they are increasing 
 at the rate of five hundred, daily. Reader, have you 
 done your duty by them? 
 
 "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the 
 law of Christ." Gal. vi. 2. 
 
YB 45549 
 
 . 
 
 ALCOLM 
 AC NEIL 
 B O O K^