A Woman's Life-Work — Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland

by Laura S. Haviland

I bade him good morning, and left his office, fully determined to bring him an order, although I knew he must have seen one. My purpose was to take the first boat to Vicksburg, as General Thomas was then in that city, to see whether his order was to be honored. Passing Colonel Young's office, I called to see if he could grant the favor, and found that he could give the transportation desired, consequently I left the general without troubling him further. On my return I called at the other mission store, and met brother Burlingame and Isaac Thorne, who also wished to go below, but were doubtful whether General Tuttle would give them transportation They said they were waiting to learn of my success, and were surprised to find that Colonel Young had the power to grant it.

We took the steamer "J. H. Russell" for Baton Rouge. On March 27th Sunday morning, we passed the mouth of Red River, where was a gun boat, from which a few prisoners were taken aboard of our boat. A woman named Crosly was also taken on board, to go to New Orleans for the purpose of exposing those who had run through our lines contraband goods. There was a woman of property and standing on the boat, who still held her household servants, and made her boast that no one could even hire her slaves to leave her.

"I'd like to see any one offer my niggers a book," she declared. "I reckon they'd take it as an insult. They'd tell you mighty quick they'd no use for books or schools. The niggers never will be as happy as they have been. They'll soon die out. It's fearful to see them die off as they do in these camps. They know nothing of taking care of themselves. They are cared for by us as tenderly as our own children. I tell you, they are the happiest people that live in this country. If they are sick the doctor is sent for, and they are cared for in every way, they know nothing of care."

"If they are such a happy class of people, how was it that you had such a time of punishing and hanging them within the last two years?" I asked.

"O, that had to be done to save our lives, because they were about to rise in an awful insurrection."

"But what would induce them to rise in insurrection, when they are so happy and contented as you have described?"

"O, there is always somebody ready to put the devil in their heads," was her ready reply.

But Mrs. Crosly's report was of a very different character. She said, "There has never been the half told of this hell upon earth—the awful wickedness on these Red River plantations, where I have lived ever since I was fifteen years old. If you knew what I have passed through, you would not wonder that there is nothing but a wreck left of me. I married a plantation blacksmith when a young girl of fifteen, and left my people in Indiana, as my husband was hired by a rich slave-holder, Mr. Samuel Lay, who lived on Red River. We lived on his plantation many years, though he used to do a great deal in ironing negroes for neighboring planters."

I told her of the slave-irons I had found on a deserted plantation, to take to my Michigan home.

"Don't let the people here know it," she said, "or they will take them from you and drop them in the river; for they bury them, or throw them in the river or creek, to put them out of sight of Yankees. When the city was taken they sent painters all over the city, with brushes and paint-buckets, to paint over all advertising signs of slaves for sale, and hid all slave-irons they could lay hands on."