From the draining-wheel we proceeded to visit the forest, where negroes were engaged in clearing the trees, turning up the soil between the stumps, which marked where the mighty sycamore, live oak, gum-trees, and pines had lately shaded the rich earth. In some places the Indian corn was already waving its head and tassels above the black gnarled roots; in other spots the trees, girdled by the axe, but not yet down, rose up from thick crops of maize; and still deeper in the wood negroes were guiding the ploughs, dragged with pain and difficulty by mules, three abreast, through the tangled roots and rigid earth, which will next year be fit for sowing. There were one hundred and twenty negroes at work; and these, with an adequate number of mules, will clear four hundred and fifty acres of land this year. “But it’s death on niggers and mules,” said Mr. Bateman. “We generally do it with Irish, as well as the hedging and ditching; but we can’t get them now, as they are all off to the wars.”
Although the profits of sugar are large, the cost of erecting the machinery, the consumption of wood in the boiler, and the scientific apparatus demand a far larger capital than is required by the cotton planter, who, when he has got land, may procure negroes on credit, and only requires food and clothing till he can realise the proceeds of their labour, and make a certain fortune. Cotton will keep where sugar spoils. The prices are far more variable in the latter, although it has a protective tariff of 20 per cent.
The whole of the half million of hogsheads of the sugar grown in the South is consumed in the United States, whereas most of the cotton is sent abroad; but in the event of a blockade the South can use its sugar ad nauseam, whilst the cotton is all but useless in consequence of the want of manufacturers in the South.
When I got back, Mr. Burnside was seated in his verandah, gazing with anxiety, but not with apprehension, on the marching columns of black clouds, which were lighted up from time to time by heavy flashes, and shaken by rolls of thunder. Day after day the planters have been looking for rain, tapping glasses, scrutinising aneroids, consulting negro weather prophets, and now and then their expectations were excited by clouds moving down the river, only to be disappointed by their departure into space, or, worse than all, their favouring more distant plantations with a shower that brought gold to many a coffer. “Did you ever see such luck? Kenner has got it again! That’s the third shower Bringier has had in the last two days.”
But it was now the turn of all our friends to envy us a tremendous thunderstorm, with a heavy, even downfall of rain, which was sucked up by the thirsty earth almost as fast as it fell, and filled the lusty young corn with growing pains, imparting such vigour to the cane that we literally saw it sprouting up, and could mark the increase in height of the stems from hour to hour.
My good host is rather uneasy about his prospects this year, owing to the war; and no wonder. He reckoned on an income of £100,000 for his sugar alone; but if he cannot send it North it is impossible to estimate the diminution of his profits. I fancy, indeed, he more and more regrets that he embarked his capital in these great sugar-swamps, and that he would gladly now invest it at a loss in the old country, of which he is yet a subject; for he has never been naturalised in the United States. Nevertheless, he rejoices in the finest clarets, and in wines of fabulous price, which are tended by an old white-headed negro, who takes as much care of the fluid as if he was accustomed to drink it every day.
CHAPTER XXXVI. Visit to Mr. M‘Call’s plantation
Visit to Mr. M‘Call’s plantation—Irish, and Spaniards—The planter—A Southern sporting man—The creoles—Leave Houmas—Donaldsonville—Description of the City—Baton Rouge—Steamer to Natchez—Southern feeling; faith in Jefferson Davis—Rise and progress of prosperity for the planters—Ultimate issue of the war to both North and South.
June 8th.—According to promise, the inmates of Mr. Burnside’s house proceeded to pay a visit to-day to the plantation of Mr. M‘Call, who lives at the other side of the river some ten or twelve miles away. Still the same noiseless plantations, the same oppressive stillness, broken only by the tolling of the bell which summons the slaves to labour, or marks the brief periods of its respite! Whilst waiting for the ferry-boat, we visited Dr. Cotmann, who lives in a snug house near the levée, for, hurried as we were, ’twould nevertheless have been a gross breach of etiquette to have passed his doors; and I was not sorry for the opportunity of making the acquaintance of a lady so amiable as his wife, and of seeing a face with tender, pensive eyes, serene brow, and lovely contour, such as Guido or Greuse would have immortalised, and which Miss Cotmann, in the seclusion of that little villa on the banks of the Mississippi, scarcely seemed to know, would have made her a beauty in any capital in Europe.