The telegram which informed me of this event, said: 'He is desperately wounded, but may survive.' He is now at home, slowly recovering. What he saw and did while serving in Kentucky and Tennessee, I may at some future time narrate to the reader.
In relating actual events, a writer cannot in all cases visit artistic justice on each one of his characters; for, in real life, retribution does not always appear to follow crime. But, whatever appearances may be, who is there that does not feel that virtue is ever its own reward, and vice its own punishment? and what one of my readers would exchange 'a quiet conscience, void of offence toward God and toward man,' for the princely fortune of John Hallet—who is still the great merchant, the 'exemplary citizen,' the 'honest man'?
LAST WORDS.
Whoever comes before the American people in a time of great deeds like this, with mere words, should have no idle story to tell. He should have something to say; some fact to relate, or truth to communicate, which may awaken his countrymen to a true estimate of their interests, or a true sense of their duties.
The writer of these articles has something to say; some facts to relate which have not been told; some truths to communicate about Southern life and society, which the public ought to know. Some of these facts, gathered during sixteen years of intimate business and social intercourse with the planters and merchants of the South, he has endeavored to embody in this volume.
He has woven them into a story, but they are nevertheless facts, and all, excepting one, occurred under his own observation. That one—the death of old Jack—was communicated to him as a fact, by his friend, Dr. W. H. Holcombe, of Waterproof, La., now an officer in the confederate army.
The author does not mean to say that his story is true as a connected whole. It is not. In it, persons are brought into intimate relations who never had any connection in life; events are grouped together which happened at widely different times; and incidents are described as occurring in the vicinity of Newbern—the slave auction, for instance—parts of which occurred in Alabama, parts in Georgia, and parts in Louisiana. But all of the characters he has described have lived, and all of the events he has related have transpired. He would, however, not have the reader believe that all he says of himself is true. Some of it is; some of it is not. The story needed some one to revolve around; and, as he began by using the personal pronoun, he continued its use, even in parts—like the scenes with Hallet, wherein the I stands for entirely another individual.
The real name of the character whom he has called Selma (he can state this without wounding the feelings of any one, as none of her relatives are now living), was Selma Winchester. She was educated at Cambridge, Mass., was a slave, and died of a broken heart shortly after being put at menial labor in her mother-in-law's kitchen. Her character and appearance, even the costume she wore on the occasion of her visit to the opera—a scene which many residents of Boston and vicinity will remember—are attempted to be described literally. She was not the daughter of Preston; her father was a very different sort of man. Nor was she sold at auction. The young woman who was engaged to 'Frank Mandell,' and bought at the sale by her brother, was equally as accomplished, though not so beautiful as Selma. She committed suicide, as herein related. The author has blended the two characters into one, but in no particular has he departed from the truth.
The gentleman called Preston in the story was for many years one of the writer's correspondents. He had two wives, such as are described, and was the father of Joe and Rosey, whose connection was as is related. He was not the owner of 'Boss Joe.' The original of that character belonged (and the writer trusts still belongs) to a cotton planter in Alabama. He managed two hundred hands, and in no respect is he overdrawn in the story. His sermon is repeated from memory, and is far inferior to the original. He was a Swedenborgian, and one of the finest natural orators the writer ever listened to. Old Deborah was his mother, and died comfortably in her bed. The old woman who fell dead on the auction block, was the nurse of the young woman who was engaged to Frank. The excitement of the scene, and her anxiety for her 'young missus,' killed her.
Larkin's real name is Jacob Larkin. He was at one time connected with the person called Hallet. He was well known in many parts of the South, and relinquished Negro trading under circumstances similar to those related in the story. He is now—though a rebel in arms against his country—an honest man.