In an evening smoke, upon the settle, we learned that there were many Creoles about here, most of whom learned English, and had their children taught English at the schools. The Americans would not take the trouble to learn French. They often intermarried. A daughter of their own was the wife of an American neighbour. We asked if they knew of a distinct people here called Acadians. Oh yes, they knew many settled in the vicinity, descended from some nation that came here in the last century. They had now no peculiarities. There were but few free negroes just here, but at Opelousas and Niggerville there were many, some of whom were rich and owned slaves, though a part were unmixed black in colour. They kept pretty much by themselves, not attempting to enter white society.
As we went to look at our horses, two negroes followed us to the stable.
“Dat horse a Tennessee horse, mass’r,” said one.
“Yes, he was born in Tennessee.”
“Born in Tennessee and raised by a Dutchman,” said the other, sotto voce, I suppose, quoting a song.
“Why, were you born in Tennessee?” I asked.
“No, sar, I was born in dis State.”
“How comes it you speak English so much better than your master?”
“Ho, ho, my old mass’r, he don’ speak it at all; my missus she speak it better’n my mass’r do, but you see I war raised on de parara, to der eastward, whar thar’s heaps of ’Mericans; so I larned it good.”
He spoke it, with a slight accent, while the other, whom he called Uncle Tom, I observed did not. I asked Uncle Tom if he was born in the State.