“From Massachusetts.”
“Oh!”—with a shudder,—“they’re bad Yankees!”
“Bad enough, Heaven knows,” I pleasantly replied; “though, in truth, Madam, I have seen almost as bad people in other parts of the world.”
The lady’s husband changed the conversation by offering me a piece of venison which he had killed the day before. Deer were plenty in that region. As in Tennessee and Alabama, game of all kinds—deer, foxes, wild turkeys, wolves,—had increased greatly in Mississippi during the war; the inhabitants having had something more formidable to hunt, or been hunted themselves.
Mr. M—— owned two abandoned plantations: this was his town residence. He left it just before the battle of Shiloh, and it was occupied either by the Rebels or Yankees till the end of the war. He was originally opposed to the secession-leaders, but he afterwards went into the war, and lost everything, while they kept out of it and made money.
The bullet-holes in the house were made by the Rebels firing at the Federals when they attacked the town.
The family consisted of three persons,—Mr. M——, his wife, and their little boy. Notwithstanding their poverty, they kept four black servants to wait upon them. They were paying a man fifteen dollars a month, a cook-woman the same, another woman six, and a girl six: total, forty-two dollars. It was mainly to obtain money to pay and feed these people that they had been compelled to take in lodgers. The possibility of getting along with fewer servants seemed never to have occurred to them. Before the war they used to keep seven or eight. It was the old wasteful habit of slavery: masters were accustomed to have many servants about them, and each servant must have two or three to help him.
The freedmen, I was told, were behaving very well. But the citizens were bitterly hostile to the negro garrison which then occupied Corinth. A respectable white man had recently been killed by a colored soldier, and the excitement occasioned by the circumstance was intense. It was called “a cold-blooded murder.” Visiting head-quarters, I took pains to ascertain the facts in the case. They are in brief as follows:—
The said respectable citizen was drunk. Going down the street, he staggered against a colored orderly. Cursing him, he said, “Why don’t you get out of the way when you see a white man coming?” The orderly replied, “There’s room for you to pass.” The respectable citizen then drew his revolver, threatening to “shoot his damned black heart out.” This occasioned an order for his arrest. He drew his revolver, with a similar threat, upon another soldier sent to take him, and was promptly shot down by him. Exit respectable citizen.
Corinth is a bruised and battered village surrounded by stumpy fields, forts, earthworks, and graves. The stumpy fields are the sites of woods and groves cut away by the great armies. The graves are those of soldiers slain upon these hills. Beautiful woody boundaries sweep round all.