Mr. Gorsüch and other gentlemen who had been connected with the Rebel “Bureau of Niter and Mining,” were busy with a great speculation by which they all felt sure of retrieving their fortunes. They had organized a monster oil company—on paper—and had already leased over a quarter million acres of lands, in Central and Northern Alabama, and adjacent parts of the neighboring States. Some Northern geologists, who had been exploring this region, were inclined to laugh at them, but they were full of dreams about spouting wells and flowing fortunes.
Some of them seemed, however, to imagine that the gold regions west of the Coosa River, were likely to prove more profitable. Hitherto they had paid but little; but there was much talk about what scientific work would do for them.
Some very worthy people of Montgomery were much disposed to plume themselves on their Southern blood. A Baptist preacher, who kept a book-store, (and had once been known as editor of a series of school books,) was a specimen. “I’ve got my pardon,” he began, warmed into confidence by a trifling purchase, “and am all right for the future. I’ve done well, too, by the war, and my profits were mainly invested North. But I’m tired of this crowd of Yankees that is pouring down here. The more I see of them, the more I am convinced that they are a totally different class of people, and can never assimilate with us Southerners. What a miserable picayune way of doing things by retail they have, to be sure!” The worthy gentleman was asked where he was born. “Well,” he admitted with a wry face, “I was born in New Jersey, but then I’ve been in the South from childhood, and am completely identified with her!” Precisely similar was the reluctant confession of a planter here, who had been exalting the virtues of pure Southern blood, and complaining of Yankee meanness. He was born in northern New York!
There was no indication whatever of the slightest disposition to foment another war. “I’ve had enough of fighting to last me my lifetime,” said a young man who was hoping to resume work on his plantation. “We’re all glad it’s over,” said a business man. “Still we think we were right in the outset. We believe in the right of secession as much as we ever did; but what difference does that make? What’s the use of your right to do a thing, if you know you’ll get soundly whipped if you attempt it?”
[54]. About this time the New Orleans True Delta, (quite recently the organ of General Banks,) spoke of “the gloating of the cold-blooded, viperous, vindictive editor of the Chicago Republican, over the hanging of Henry Wirz,” and “his atrocious wickedness and unparalleled fiendish malignity, in endeavoring, to connect Jefferson Davis’ and General Lee’s names with the alleged crimes of Wirz.” At the same time the Epoque of the same city protested against the execution of Wirz, and against brutal military commissions, complained that a Confederate Major-General and Captain Petit were both held for similar sacrifice; hoped that President Johnson would stay such merciless and exciting proceedings, and asked, supposing them guilty of all alleged against them, and such guilt was to be punished, why Butler still lives?
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Selma—Government Armories—Talks among the Negroes.
From Montgomery I went down the River to Selma, Alabama.
Colonel McGee, of Illinois, commanding the post there, had cut down a small oak which interfered with his hanging out the large garrison flag in front of his headquarters. The inhabitants complained bitterly about the sacrifice of the oak. “I tell you, gentlemen,” responded the Colonel, “not only trees but many brave men have been cut down that that flag may float!” Silenced, but not convinced, they took their revenge in mutterings; and the fair ladies of the place walked out into the sandy street to avoid passing under the Yankee colors. The public journals and the politicians thought it a great outrage that their representatives should not be immediately admitted to Congress, on the presentation of their certificates!