Neither he nor his family were responsible for the system of slavery. His ancestors found it established by law and flourishing, and had left him property, consisting of slaves, which was granted to him by the laws and constitution of the United States. Slaves were necessary for the actual cultivation of the soil in the South; Europeans and Yankees who settled there speedily became convinced of that; and if a Northern population were settled in Louisiana to-morrow, they would discover that they must till the land by the labour of the black race, and that the only mode of making the black race work, was to hold them in a condition of involuntary servitude. “Only the other day, Colonel Harvey Browne, at Pickens, over the way, carried off a number of negroes from Tortugas, and put them to work at Santa Rosa. Why? Because his white soldiers were not able for it. No. The North was bent on subjugating the South, and as long as he had a drop of blood in his body, he would resist such an infamous attempt.”
Before supper General Bragg opened his maps, and pointed out to me in detail the position of all his works, the line of fire of each gun, and the particular object to be expected from its effects. “I know every inch of Pickens,” he said, “for I happened to be stationed there as soon as I left Westpoint, and I don’t think there is a stone in it that I am not as well acquainted with as Harvey Browne.”
His staff, consisting of four intelligent young men, two of them lately belonging to the United States army, supped with us, and after a very agreeable evening, horses were ordered round to the door, and I returned to the navy yard attended by the General’s orderly, and provided with a pass and countersign. As a mark of complete confidence, General Bragg told me, for my private ear, that he had no present intention whatever of opening fire, and that his batteries were far from being in a state, either as regards armament or ammunition, which would justify him in meeting the fire of the forts and the ships.
And so we bade good-by. “To-morrow,” said the General, “I will send down one of my best horses and Mr. Ellis, my aide-de-camp, to take you over all the works and batteries.” As I rode home with my honest orderly beside instead of behind me, for he was of a conversational turn, I was much perplexed in my mind, endeavouring to determine which was right and which was wrong in this quarrel, and at last, as at Montgomery, I was forced to ask myself if right and wrong were geographical expressions depending for extension or limitation on certain conditions of climate and lines of latitude and longitude. Here was the General’s orderly beside me, an intelligent middle-aged man, who had come to do battle with as much sincerity—aye, and religious confidence—as ever actuated old John Brown or any New England puritan to make war against slavery. “I have left my old woman and the children to the care of the niggers; I have turned up all my cotton land and planted it with corn, and I don’t intend to go back alive till I’ve seen the back of the last Yankee in our Southern States.” “And are wife and children alone with the negroes?” “Yes, sir. There’s only one white man on the plantation, an overseer sort of chap.” “Are not you afraid of the slaves rising?” “They’re ignorant poor creatures, to be sure, but as yet they’re faithful. Any way, I put my trust in God, and I know He’ll watch over the house while I’m away fighting for this good cause!” This man came from Mississippi, and had twenty-five slaves, which represented a money value of at least £5000. He was beyond the age of enthusiasm, and was actuated, no doubt, by strong principles, to him unquestionable and sacred.
My pass and countersign, which were only once demanded, took me through the sentries, and I got on board the schooner shortly before midnight, and found nearly all the party on deck, enchanted with their reception. More than once we were awoke by the vigilant sentries, who would not let what Americans call “the balance” of our friends on board till they had seen my authority to receive them.
CHAPTER XXVIII. Bitters before breakfast
Bitters before breakfast—An old Crimean acquaintance—Earthworks and batteries—Estimate of cannons—Magazines—Hospitality—English and American introductions and leave-takings—Fort Pickens; its interior—Return towards Mobile—Pursued by a strange sail—Running the blockade—Landing at Mobile.
May 16th.—The réveillé of the Zouaves, note for note the same as that which, in the Crimea, so often woke up poor fellows who slept the long sleep ere nightfall, roused us this morning early, and then the clang of trumpets and the roll of drums beating French calls summoned the volunteers to early parade. As there was a heavy dew, and many winged things about last night, I turned in to my berth below, where four human beings were supposed to lie in layers, like mummies beneath a pyramid, and there, after contention with cockroaches, sank to rest. No wonder I was rather puzzled to know where I was now; for in addition to the music and the familiar sounds outside, I was somewhat perturbed in my mental calculations by bringing my head sharply in contact with a beam of the deck which had the best of it; but, at last, facts accomplished themselves and got into place, much aided by the appearance of the negro cook with a cup of coffee in his hand, who asked, “Mosieu! Capitaine vant to ax vedder you take some bitter, sar! Lisbon bitter, sar.” I saw the captain on deck busily engaged in the manufacture of a liquid which I was adjured by all the party on deck to take, if I wished to make a Redan or a Malakhoff of my stomach, and accordingly I swallowed a petit verre of a very strong, intensely bitter preparation of brandy and tonic roots, sweetened with sugar, for which Mobile is famous.
The noise of our arrival had gone abroad; haply the report of the good things with which the men of Mobile had laden the craft, for a few officers came aboard even at that early hour, and we asked two who were known to our friends to stay for breakfast. That meal, to which the negro cook applied his whole mind and all the galley, consisted of an ugly-looking but well-flavoured fish from the waters outside us, fried ham and onions, biscuit, coffee, iced water and Bordeaux, served with charming simplicity, and no way calculated to move the ire of Horace by a display of Persic apparatus.