There is a circular just issued by General Saxton, pointing out the plantations which are to be sold to the negroes, and advising them to stake out their claims and build cabins on them as preëmptors, which will not attract many of my people, I think. The McTureous places, T. B. Fripp's, Hamilton Fripp's, and others are to be so sold, as soon as the necessary surveys are made. I doubt the policy of this sort of thing until the time shall have passed for the redemption of the land by the old owners, though none may ever appear to redeem. I am afraid some rows may arise from the difficulty of fixing and recording boundaries among a lot of negro squatters, should there be many such.
These plantations, about to be sold at auction to negro preëmptors, were those which had been reserved for this purpose from the sale of March 9, 1863 (see p. [171]). The order of the President (dated September 16), from which General Saxton got authority for his circular just mentioned, also provided for the sale at auction of about twenty plantations in lots not to exceed three hundred and twenty acres. This latter provision, which might possibly result in preventing many negroes from owning any land at present,—since the plantations reserved for them alone were not large enough for all,—presently brought about infinite trouble, through disagreement among the authorities.
FROM H. W.
Nov. 15. The people are quite disturbed about General Saxton's new order, which Mr. French and Judge Smith have been trying to explain to them at church;—in vain, apparently,—for some of the most ignorant of our people thought they should be obliged to buy land, and came to C. in distress at leaving the plantation. Others we hear are selecting their lots, but now comes General Gillmore's order to stop all sales; I am afraid these poor people, who hate all change and "confusion," will have their brains hopelessly confused.
FROM E. S. P.
Nov. 18. General Saxton has given orders that all work on the plantations[148] in preparation for next year's crop shall be stopped, for he expects to give them up either to the purchasers or the tax-commissioners very soon. The tax men are here, as amicably disposed towards each other as cat and dog, and as they are not remarkable for their efficiency in matters of business, I do not think it very likely that they will accomplish much this winter. They have two parties of surveyors at work, but they don't seem to be doing much but chop vines and sail about the creeks in boats.
FROM W. C. G.
Pine Grove. [Sept. 23.] I think you would be quite astonished at the refinement and homelikeness of our parlor. Bright table-cloths, a most elegant couch lately developed,—a comfortable old sofa, pictures all around, a fancy bookcase almost full of books,—a glass-topped secretary with an ample supply of pigeon-holes and writing arrangements,—papers lying around loose,—and a wood fire burning in the big chimney-place,—won't that do for philanthropists? One door opens into a large dining-room,—the windows upon a portico, looking out upon the creek winding among the green marsh grass, with broad water and islands in the distance. For contrast now and then a pig squalls vigorously under the house,—for it is getting cold now and the pigs eagerly seek the shelter of the "big house." It is in vain to try to keep them out, though I've had a fence built round the house.
Nov. 14. I shall have to take to contraband pants, I'm afraid, as I did last winter. The negroes can hardly hold me to be of gentle kind, when they see me doing their own work in their own clothes. I wish you would come down to see me, if it is only, by the sight of a white cravat and shining beaver, to convince them that I am a "boss" born. You shall have your fill of clearing up and improving, too; I need just such energy to make respectable my own premises. At present they are the pigs' playground, except on Sundays, when a lot of the plantation urchins are allowed very quietly to peep in at the windows and learn manners from white folks. At present a young fellow, who has lately waked up from a slouch into a man, is patiently leaning against the sill, waiting, I suppose, for his lesson.