C—— did not seem inclined to pursue the subject, but commenced talking in a very candid, sensible manner, of the old Southern methods.
“If the war only breaks them up, it will have done some good. Our large planters generally gave no attention to business. The men were fast and reckless; the women, helpless and luxurious. We gave so much attention to cotton and niggers we couldn’t stop to think of the comforts of life. And after all we were just working to enrich Northern capitalists. There are no millionaires amongst us. Three hundred thousand dollars is a rare and large fortune in Georgia.”
Arriving in Augusta that night, I went the next morning to call on General Tillson. In our conversation, I took early occasion to speak to him of my yesterday’s acquaintance, Mr. C——, of Oglethorpe County. “He will be here soon, and explain to you why it is that planters in Northern Georgia cannot afford to pay the twelve dollars a month you insist upon.”
“He will not be the first who has come to me on that business,” replied the clear-headed general. “I shall give him a patient hearing, and if he convinces me that I am wrong, he will do more than any have done yet. When it was white man against white man, these planters paid one hundred and fifty and two hundred dollars a year for first-class field-hands. Now they are not willing to pay the negro for his labor one half what they formerly paid his owner. When I took charge of the Bureau’s affairs in this State, last September, I found the ordinary wages to be from two to seven dollars a month,—sometimes as low as twelve bushels of corn for a year’s labor. And the planters complained that the freedman wouldn’t work for those prices. Now all I ask is that they should pay what his labor is worth in the open market. Men from Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, say it is worth fifteen dollars, and stand ready to give it. Since that is the case, to permit him to make contracts for very much less, is to permit him to be swindled. A little while ago many of these men were wishing the negroes all driven out of the State; and now they are in a great panic, because I am allowing them to go. They come to me to remonstrate against sending off any more laborers. ‘Gentlemen,’ I say, ‘if you cannot afford to pay the freedman what his services are worth, it is not his fault, but your misfortune.’
“But they can afford it. Here is a careful statement of facts relating to free labor in Wilkes County, which adjoins Oglethorpe. ‘One field-hand will cultivate nine acres of cotton, on which he will raise three and a half bales, worth—say three hundred and seventy-five dollars. The same hand will also cultivate nine acres of corn, raising one hundred and eight bushels, worth one hundred and eight dollars. Total, four hundred and eighty-three dollars.
“’Expenses:—Board, fifty-two dollars. Rent of cabin, six. Fuel, six. Wages, one hundred forty-four. Total, two hundred and eight dollars.’ Deducting two hundred and eight from four hundred and eighty-three, you have a clear profit of two hundred and seventy-five dollars on each man; that, too, at the rate of wages I prescribe.
“These, understand, are the planters’ own estimates. In South-western Georgia, where the land is much richer than in this section, the most extravagant charges against the plantation show a nett income of three hundred and twenty-five dollars from the labor of a full field freedman. This estimate is from data furnished by several of the most popular and extensive planters in that region.
“Now,” added the Commissioner, “when your friend, Mr. C——, of Oglethorpe, comes to make his complaint, if he is the honest man you represent him to be, I will show him, by his own figuring, that so far from being impoverished by paying his men twelve dollars a month, he will make a handsome profit from them.”
As I went out, I found Mr. C——, of Oglethorpe, in the ante-room, waiting to see the General. He regarded me with a curious, uneasy expression, fearing no doubt lest I had reported to the Commissioner his indiscreet remarks of yesterday concerning the Yankees and the Bureau. I introduced him to General Tillson, however, in a manner that seemed to reassure him, and left them closeted together.
That evening, by appointment, I saw the General at his residence. “Well,” I asked, “how did you and my friend C—— get along?” and received from him the following statement, which he had kindly had copied for me.