Diary of Laura M. Towne: Sunday, June 9, 1862

This afternoon the cotton agent, or rather the sutler, Mr. Whiting, and his little wife, left the place. We are so glad to have their half of the house. Mr. Pierce left with me an injunction that they should take away none of the furniture, and they left most of it. Mr. Elmendorff gave into my charge some things which he should claim should he come again, but he has only the right of prior seizure to them.

To-night we all went to Rina's house where the people had a "shout," which Mr. McKim was inclined to think was a remnant of African worship.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 66-7

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Sunday, June 8, 1862

Before church we all, superintendents and the few ladies, stood under the oaks and talked of our dangers, and then Mr. Horton led us in to service. After service we talked long again, till the coming rain made our party from the Oaks hasten home, Park and others going to the Episcopal church to try the organ. Mr. Pierce had gone to Hilton Head, as a steamer was expected. I had reached home before the rain and was lying down, when Rina rushed into my room with a haste and noise so strange to her, calling out, “Miss Murray has come!” I got up suddenly, but felt so faint that I had to lie down again. Jerry and his boat's crew had arrived with her trunk, but she did not come for an hour. The men had told Mr. Pierce that they would row up sooner than he could ride up to tell the news, but he did not believe them, and galloped all the way from Land's End to be the first to make the announcement to me. He came in about a quarter of an hour after they did, and as I was then upstairs, heard from Nelly the arrival of the men. When I came down he greeted me with “So you fainted at the news?” “No,” I said, “not at the news, but I have not been well for a week and was startled by Rina, and getting up so suddenly made me faint.” He was determined to see a scene if possible, but when Ellen came and I stood on the porch as she came up the steps from the carriage, we shook hands very quietly and walked into the parlor in the ordinary manner of acquaintances. It was not till we were upstairs that we cut any capers of joy. She had been detained by the rain, the whole party stopping in the Episcopal church where they played on the organ and sang, Mr. McKim and Lucy being highly delighted at the ride, the romantic church, and the meeting with some of the superintendents.

In the evening we went to a praise meeting, and Mr. McKim spoke to the people. We heard a very fine address from old Marcus. Afterwards we sat up late — Mr. Pierce and Mr. McKim having a long talk over the affairs of our little colony and we listening. Ellen and I are to sleep on the floor, Lucy McKim and Nelly Winsor in the beds in the same room. Ellen and I talked all night nearly.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 65-6

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Saturday, June 7, 1862

An exciting day. This morning Mr. Eustis came over and told Mr. Hooper that we ought to be ready to go at a moment's notice. For two weeks we have been quite unprotected, and last night an attempt was made to pass the pickets at Port Royal Ferry. A flat was seen coming. Our pickets challenged it, and the negroes exclaimed, “Don't shoot, massa!” Then fifty men rose up in the boat and fired into the guard, killing four of them. The others fled to Port Royal, I believe, carrying dismay, and this morning all the ladies, cotton agents, and civilians, except our men, embarked on the Ottawa and went down to Hilton Head, Miss Walker among them. Our men, of the Commission, have been bold enough. Little Taylor has shouldered his gun and he this morning went to within four miles of the enemies’ lines. Ashly acted as guide to the scouts and others have gone readily to the aid of the soldiery. Yet Mr. Pierce says the soldiers are swearing at the “nigger lovers,” who have all gone — run away at the first danger. Not a man has gone — not one.

There is quite a panic in Beaufort and several gunboats have gone up to it, apparently to take away the commissary stores. It will then be evacuated, and what will become of the poor negroes if the masters return! It seems to me that this is a causeless panic.

We packed our trunks to-day according to Mr. Hooper's orders, and we can run at any time, but leaving much behind us. I cannot bear the thought of going while these poor people must stay — Aunt Bess, whose leg is so bad; and some of the babies are ill now — they will suffer so in the woods and marshes if they have to fly. While we were packing this morning, Susannah, then Rina, came and asked anxiously about our going. I told them all we knew — that we might have to go off, but would not if we could help it; that our soldiers had all gone off to take Charleston and that Secesh might come down to attack us, and then the gentlemen would insist upon our going. Mr. Pierce came home about eleven, and he thinks we may remain. So we have composed ourselves as best we can. The gentlemen are going to patrol to-night, but I am more afraid of the exposure than of Secesh for them, and us too.

Mr. Pierce has gone to Beaufort again. Several gentlemen were here to-day, Mr. Horton among them, who wanted to know if we were “going to trust the Lord and keep our powder dry.” I want to have Mr. Pierce secure half a dozen guns for each plantation, and then if Secesh come, call upon the negroes to help us and stay. I am sure we shall be safe. I am entirely opposed to our flying. If Mr. Pierce were not going North, this would be the case, I am pretty sure, but he is determined to have us safe while he is gone. We have a boat in readiness to set out by water, and the horses are kept fresh to take us by land. One of them died to-day of poison plants, or colic, — one of the handsome bays.

I have been in other excitement lately and feel almost ill from it. But first about the alarm at Beaufort. It was so great that the arsenal was open, and anybody wishing it could go in and get a gun. It appears that the Pennsylvania regiment, or a guard of fifty, were stationed at Port Royal Ferry, and on this alarm they ran, after firing, and burned the bridge between themselves and the enemy. Their panic alarmed Beaufort. The ladies fled to the gunboats and to Hilton Head. They will return to-morrow probably. All Beaufort was in confusion. To-night all is safety and quiet there. We have had quite a cosy evening here — Mr. Pierce, Mr. Hooper, Miss Winsor, and I.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 63-5

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Tuesday, June 3, 1862

It is a day of doubt and wearying uncertainty. Mr. Pierce is going home — perhaps not to return, and who can take his place here with the negroes? They trust so implicitly to his word and believe so entirely in his love for them. They come to him with all complaints of wrongs done them and are satisfied with his decisions even when against themselves. Last Sunday after the sermon he spoke to them about going away, of the benefits they were receiving, and of his successor. He said, “Lincoln always did think a great deal about you and was always your friend; now he is thinking more than ever and he is going to send you a protector. He is going to send a much more powerful man than I am, a big general to care for you — a man who has always been your friend. You must love him and obey him.” There was something so self-forgetting and humble in these words, and the manner of speaking, that it made my heart swell, and when he thanked them and said good-bye, a good many were much affected.

After he sat down, Mr. Horton said that all who were sorry to have him go had better express it by rising. All stood up and most of them held up both hands. Some began to bless and pray for him aloud, to say they “thanked massa for his goodness to we,” etc. It quite overcame him for a minute. He covered his eyes with his hands and sat down in the pew. Soon these people began to crowd around him and he had to shake hands with them. I saw then that his face was streaming with tears, as he passed pretty quickly out of church under the old oaks and the people crowded about him. I stood still in the pew watching it all, but soon I had to go on down the aisle, and I saw an old blind man waiting and looking anxious. Dr. Browne said to me, “He is quite blind.” “My friend” (to the blind man), “don't you want to shake hands with Mr. Pierce?” “Yes, massa, but I can't get to him — I'se blin' an' dey crowd so.” “I will shake hands for you,” I said, and gave him my hand. "Thank you, missus — thank you,” he said. I gave Mr. Pierce this handshake and he treasured it, I think.

It is storming most furiously, and I fear Ellen is out in it. It worries me and yet I feel faith that she will come to me. It seems impossible, though; all coming seems stopped. The new war, excitement at the North, the calling-out the militia, the battles, etc., have made it almost impossible that this place can command much notice. The Oriental is wrecked; the Atlantic up for repairs, and communication difficult. That wretch, T., who refused Mr. McKim and Ellen a passage on their permit from Barney and pass from Mr. Pierce, has it in his power to do such mischief and cause such delay and vexation as will make it almost impossible for Ellen to come. She has already had one expensive journey to New York for nothing. Poor Ellen! her trials are far harder than mine — she has borne much more.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 61-3

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Monday, May 23, 1862

Ellen is coming at last. I felt sure no one could stop her. Mr. McKim is also to come as Philadelphia agent, and I am free.

We have been for three days going to various plantations, once to Mr. Zacha's at Paris Island, once to Mrs. Mary Jenkins', Mr. Wells' and to Edgar Fripp's, or to Frogmore, Mr. Saulis'; also to Edding's Point and one other place. At the three places of Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Fripp, and Edding, the wretched hovels with their wooden chimneys and the general squalor showed the former misery. One woman said the differences in the times were as great as if God had sent another Moses and a great deliverance — that it was heaven upon earth and earth in heaven now. They all seemed to love Mr. Wells. We saw there one woman whose two children had been whipped to death, and Mr. Wells said there was not one who was not marked up with welts. He had the old whip which had a ball at the end, and he had seen the healed marks of this ball on their flesh — the square welts showed where it had taken the flesh clean out. Loretta of this place showed me her back and arms to-day. In many places there were ridges as high and long as my little finger, and she said she had had four babies killed within her by whipping, one of which had its eye cut out, another its arm broken, and the others with marks of the lash. She says it was because even while "heaviest" she was required to do as much as usual for a field hand, and not being able, and being also rather apt to resist, and rather smart in speaking her mind, poor thing, she has suffered; and no wonder Grace, her child, is of the lowest type; no wonder she is more indifferent about her clothes and house than any one here. She says this was the cruelest place she was ever in.

The happiest family I know here is old Aunt Bess's Minda and Jerry and herself. They are always joking and jolly but very gentle. When I go there at night to dress Bess's foot I find her lying upon her heap of rags with the roaches running all over her and little Leah or some small child asleep beside her.' Jerry got me some of the pine sticks they use for candles. They hold one for me while I dress the foot.

It is- very interesting to observe how the negroes watch us for fear we shall go away. They are in constant dread of it and we cannot be absent a single day without anxiety on their part. It is very touching to hear their entreaties to us to stay, and their anxious questions. They have a horrible dread of their masters' return, especially here where Massa Dan'l's name is a terror.

They appreciate the cheapness of our goods and especially of the sugar at the Overseer house, and are beginning to distrust the cotton agents who have charged them so wickedly.

The scenes in the cotton-house used to be very funny. Miss W. would say to some discontented purchaser who was demurring at the price of some article, “Well, now, I don't want to sell this. I believe I won't sell it to-day. But if you want to take it very much at a dollar and a half, you may have it. Oh, you don't? Well, then, I can't sell you anything. No, you can't have anything. We are doing the best we can for you and you are not satisfied; you won't be contented. Just go — go now, please. We want all the room and air we can get. You don't want to buy and why do you stay? No, I shall not let you have anything but that. I don't want to sell it, but you may have it for a dollar and a half,” etc., etc. This is one of many real scenes. The people are eager, crazy to buy, for they are afraid of their money, it being paper, and besides, they need clothes and see finer things than ever in their lives before. Except when they are excited they are very polite, always saying "Missus" to us, and "Sir" to one another. The children say, "Good-mornin', ma'am," whenever they see us first in the day, and once I overheard two girls talking just after they had greeted me. One said, "I say good-mornin' to my young missus [Miss Pope] and she say, ‘I slap your mouth for your impudence, you nigger.’” I have heard other stories that tell tales.

The white folks used to have no cooking-utensils of their own here. They came and required certain things. The cooks hunted among the huts and borrowed what they needed till the family went away, of course straining every nerve to get such cooking as should please. "I would do anything for my massa," Susannah says, "if he wouldn't whip me."

On May 7, as Mr. Pierce stepped off the boat at Hilton Head and walked up the pier, a Mr. Nobles, chief of the cotton agents here, came forward saying that he had a letter for him. Then he struck him upon the head, felled him, and beat him, saying that Mr. P. had reported him to the Secretary of the Treasury and had got a saddle and bridle of his. Mr. Pierce got up with difficulty and took only a defensive part. Some soldiers took Mr. Nobles off. Mr. Pierce had really mentioned this man and his agents, which was his duty as guardian of these people, for they were imposing upon the negroes shamefully. They, of course, hate this whole Society of Superintendents, etc., who will not see the negroes wronged. So Mr. P. has had his touch of martyrdom.

The Philadelphia consignment of goods — in all $2000 worth — would have done immense good if it had come in season. The people of these islands, whom Government does not ration (because there is corn here) had nothing but hominy to eat, were naked, were put to work at cotton, which they hated, as being nothing in their own pockets and all profit to the superintendent, who they could not be sure were not only another set of cotton agents or cotton planters; and so discontent and trouble arose. Mr. Pierce said to them that they should be fed, clothed, and paid, but they waited and waited in vain, trusting at first to promises and then beginning to distrust such men as were least friendly to them.

The first rations of pork — "splendid bacon," everybody says — was dealt out the other day and there has been great joy ever since, or great content. If this had only come when first ordered there would have been this goodwill and trust from the first. They even allow the removal of the corn from one plantation to another now without murmuring, and that they were very much opposed to before.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 57-61

Laura M. Towne: May 13, 1862

St. Helena's, May 13, 1862.

Yesterday was a gloomy day on this island. I have been interrupted by a wedding. Tom and Lucy have just been united in this parlor by Mr. Pierce as magistrate, and we presented the bride with a second-hand calico dress, a ruffled night-gown and a night-cap. She came in giggling and was soon sobered by Mr. Pierce's quiet, serious tones.

To go back to the beginning of my letter. This is a sad time here. On Sunday afternoon Captain Stevens, son of General Stevens,¹ who commands here, and is the husband of the Mrs. Stevens we knew at Newport, came here with a peremptory order from General Hunter for every able-bodied negro man of age for a soldier to be sent at once to Hilton Head. This piece of tyranny carried dismay into this household, and we were in great indignation to think of the alarm and grief this would cause among the poor negroes on this place. We have got to calling them our people and loving them really — not so much individually as the collective whole — the people and our people.

We had been talking of going to Hilton Head in Mr. Forbes' yacht, and at tea-time we discussed the whole affair and said we should not go sailing under the circumstances. Miss Walker left the tea-table crying, and we all were sad and troubled. My old Rina and little Lucy were waiting on table and they kept very quiet. After tea Rina came hanging around my room, and asking questions in an offhand but rather coaxing way. She wanted to know why we were going to Hilton Head, and when I said we would not go, she wanted to know what we would do then. I said, “Spend the day in the cotton-house unpacking clothes as usual.” She looked uneasy but did not say much.

Old Robert, the dairyman, went to Miss Winsor and asked the same questions and also what Captain Stevens was here for. She had to say that she did not know, for she did not then.

That night at about eight we saw a company of soldiers of the Seventy-ninth New York Highlanders coming up the road. They marched into the yard and made themselves at home, but very soon were ordered to march again. Meanwhile Captain Stevens was finding out from Mr. Pierce, how to go to the different plantations, and was, moreover, saying that he would resign his commission before he would undertake such work again. That night the whole island was marched over by the soldiers in squads, about six or ten going to each plantation. They were unused to the duty, had to march through deep sand, and some all night, to get to their destination, and without dinner or supper, and so they were grumbling at having to do this kind of thing at all. Besides, the soldiers have always been friendly to the negroes, have given them good advice and gentle treatment and thus are honored and loved all over these islands. So I have no doubt the duty was really repugnant to them.

That night about twelve, after all the soldiers had gone, I thought how alarmed the negroes must be. We were charged not to tell them anything, for fear of their taking to the woods, and so they could only guess at what was going on, and I saw that they believed we were going to fly to Hilton Head and leave them to the “Secests,” as they call their masters. They have a terrible fear of this, and would naturally believe there was danger of the enemy, since the soldiers were about. They could not suppose for a moment the real errand was of the kind it proved to be. I was not undressed and so I went out to the “yard” and to Rina's house, which is in the collection of houses of house-servants which surrounds the “yard.” (This is not the negro quarters.) Every house was shut and I knocked at two doors without getting any answer, so I went home. I concluded that they were not at home at all, and I think they were not, for this morning Rina told me that they kept watch along the creek all night, and the two old women of the place both said they were up and awake all night trembling with fear. Poor “Aunt Bess,” the lame one, told me when I was dressing her leg that she was worst off of all, for she hadn't a foot to stand on, and when the “Secests” came and her folks all took to the woods, she should not have the power to go. “Oh, you be quick and cure me, missus, — dey kill me, — dey kill me sure, — lick me to death if dey comes back. Do get my foot well so I can run away.” She was really in great terror.

After I was undressed and in bed we heard a horse gallop up and a man's step on the porch. I got softly out of our window and looked over the piazza railing. It was Captain Stevens' orderly come back. A bed had been made for Mr. Hooper on the parlor floor, but he had gone with the soldiers to reassure the negroes, who all love him and trust him. He went to let them know that General Hunter did not mean to send them to Cuba or do anything unfriendly. He, a young, slight fellow, marched on foot through the sand six miles or more — indeed, he was up all night. Mr. Pierce had gone over to Beaufort to remonstrate with General Stevens, and the next day he went to General Hunter at Hilton Head to see what he could do to protect the men, forced from their homes in this summary manner. But we did not mind being left alone at all, and felt perfectly safe without a man in the house and with the back door only latched. However, the orderly tied his horse in the yard and slept in the parlor. A horse to fly with was surely a likely thing to be stolen, but it was untouched.

The next day soon after breakfast Captain Stevens and two soldiers came up to the house and we sent for the men whose names he had got from Miss Walker, she being overseer of this plantation. There were twelve of them. Some stood on the porch, some below. Captain S. ordered them all below, and he said to them that General Hunter had sent for them to go to him at Hilton Head, and they must go. The soldiers then began to load their guns. The negroes looked sad, one or two uneasy, and one or two sulky, but listened silently and unresisting. Captain S. said none of them should be made a soldier against his will, but that General Hunter wished to see them all. Miss Walker asked leave to speak to them, and told them that we knew no more than they did what this meant, but that General H. was their friend, that they must go obediently, as we should if we were ordered, and should be trustful and hopeful. I said, “Perhaps you will come back in a few days with free papers.” One or two of the men then made a decided move towards their homes, saying that they were going for their jackets. “Only two at a time,” Captain S. said, and two went, while the others sent boys for jackets and hats, for they were called from their field work and were quite unprepared. The women began to assemble around their houses, about a square off, and look towards the men, but they did not dare to come forward, and probably did not guess what was going on. A soldier followed the two men into the negro street and Captain S. rode down there impatiently to hurry them. They soon came up, were ordered to “Fall in,” and marched down the road without a word of good-bye. I gave each a half-dollar and Miss W. each a piece of tobacco. They appeared grateful and comforted when Miss W. and I spoke to them and they said a respectful, almost cheerful good-bye to us. It was very hard for Miss W., for she knew these men well, and I only a little. Besides, she had set her heart upon the success of the crops, so as to show what free labor could do, and behold, all her strong, steady, cheerful workers carried off by force just in hoeing-corn time. Her ploughman had to go, but fortunately not her foreman — or “driver,” as he used to be called.

After they were gone, and we had cooled down a little, I made old Bess's leg my excuse for going to the negro street and through the knot of women who stood there. They moved off as I came, but I called to them and told them it was better to have their husbands go to Hilton Head and learn the use of arms so as to keep off “Secests;” that they could come back if they wanted to, in a few days, etc. Some of them were crying so that I could not stand it — not aloud or ostentatiously, but perfectly quietly, really swallowing their tears. At Miss Winsor's school the children saw the soldiers coming, and when they saw their fathers marching along before them, they began to cry so that there was no quieting them, and they had to be dismissed. They were terrified as well as grieved. On some of the plantations a few of the men fled to the woods and were hunted out by the soldiers; on others, the women clung to them, screaming, and threw themselves down on the ground with grief. This was when the soldiers appeared before breakfast and while the men were at home. I am glad we had no such scenes here. All the negroes trust Mr. Pierce and us, so that if we told them to go, I think they would believe it the best thing to do; but it is not so with all the superintendents, — some are not trusted.

All day yesterday and to-day one after another of the poor young superintendents have been coming in, saying it was the worst day of their lives and the hardest. I never saw more unhappy, wretched men. They had all got really attached to their hands, and were eager, too, to prove what crops free labor could raise. Mr. Pierce had done what he could to induce the negroes to enlist the other day when the man General Hunter sent came here, but none of the gentlemen approved of this violence. They were afraid the negroes might resist, and they thought it a shame to use force with these men who were beginning to trust to our law and justice. I think General Hunter had an idea, which he got from one of the gentlemen of this Association who went to see him, that the persons in charge of the plantations were so eager for the cotton crop that they prevented the negroes from enlisting, or induced them not to. So he was determined to require the presence of the men and see if they were cowards, or why they did not eagerly take the chance of becoming self-defenders.

Five hundred men were sent from this island to Beaufort yesterday and went to Hilton Head, to-day, I suppose. But not all of the men went who were required. Two from this place have appeared to-day whose names were down as having to go. One had been to Mr. Pierce a few nights ago to say that he wanted to marry our Moll and come here to live. “When?” Mr. Pierce asked. “Oh,” he said, “to-night.” Mr. Pierce said no, he must have a wedding and a good time, and invite folks to see him married — not do things in that style. So Tuesday was appointed, and the man said he would wait. Then on Sunday came this seizure and we all lamented poor Tom's separation from his Moll. To-day he appeared and was married to-night, as I said before. I saw the other man, Titus, in the yard, and said to him, “Why, I thought you went with the soldiers.” “No, ma'am, not me, ma'am. Me at Jenkins',² ma'am. Ef dey had come dere and axed for me, dey'd had me. But I not here.” He had run, and I was glad of it!

This whole thing looks atrocious and is certainly a most injudicious and high-handed measure, but somehow I trust General Hunter will bring good out of it and meant well. The negroes have such a horror of “Hilty-Head” that nothing would have taken them there but force, I think. It is the shipping-off point, and they have great fears of Cuba. One of the wives who was crying so bitterly the first day, said to me to-day that she was “sick”; she wanted her husband back again “too bad.” They say “too” for “very.” They are all still sad and uneasy and are hanging about all the time in a questioning, waiting attitude.

It is late and I have time for no other letter by this mail. Send this around and keep it afterwards; I have no time to write a journal.

One more thing I want to mention was the touching way in which two of the men came to MissW.and begged her to take care of their wives.

I am getting on famously with my unpacking and repacking, and am selling and taking money that it hurts me to take. One woman bought a great bundle of clothes, and I said, “Don't spend all your money.” “All for my chiluns,” she said. “I haven't bought a thing for myself. I had rather have my money in clothes  — my chiluns naked, quite naked — in rags.” The molasses and pork have not yet reached distributing-points, and when they do the people will have no money to buy.

_______________

¹ Brigadier-General Isaac I. Stevens.

² Plantation.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 47-54

Diary Laura M. Towne: May 12, 1862

Monday, May 12, 1862.

The black day.

Yesterday afternoon, Captain Hazard Stevens and orderly came here with an order from General Hunter, commanding Mr. Pierce to send every able-bodied negro down to Hilton Head to-day. Mr. Pierce was alarmed and indignant and instantly went to Beaufort to see General Stevens, who told him that he knew nothing of this but the order, and that he considered it very ill-advised. Mr. Pierce went to Hilton Head to-day and saw General Hunter. Meanwhile, last evening we were anxious and depressed at tea-time and talked in a low tone about this extraordinary proceeding. It had been agreed with Mr. Forbes that we should go to Hilton Head in his yacht to-day and we spoke of not going. When Miss Walker came in we told her all about it, still in a low tone. She was astonished at first and then said, “Sister French's time is come.” “What time?” “She said she wanted to weep and pray with the people, and the time has come to do it.” Miss Walker left the table crying herself. Rina and Lucy were in the room, of course. After tea Rina came to my room and stood hanging coaxingly about. “What are you going to do, missus, to-morrow?” she asked. “Spend it in the cotton-house,” I said. “You not going to Hilton Head?” “No, I guess not.” One question followed another, and I saw she was uneasy, but did not know exactly what for. By the moonlight soon after when I looked out of the window, I saw a company of soldiers marching up to the house. They stood for some time about the yard and then marched off to go to the different plantations in squads. Before they arrived, we all three, Miss W., Miss Nellie, and I, had had a quiet time in the Praise House. Miss W. came to me and said she wanted to go to-night, and so I went, too, and heard good old Marcus exhort, Dagus pray, Miss Nelly read, and then all sing. Marcus said he had often told the negroes “dat dey must be jus’ like de birds when a gunner was about, expectin' a crack ebery minute;” that they never knew what would befall them, and poor black folks could only wait and have faith; they couldn't do anything for themselves. But though his massa had laughed and asked him once whether he thought Christ was going to take d----d black niggers into heaven, he felt sure of one thing, that they would be where Christ was, and even if that was in hell, it would be a heaven, for it did not matter what place they were in if they were only with Christ.

They thanked us for going to pray with them, so feelingly; and I shook hands nearly all round when I came away, all showing gentle gratitude to us. I could not help crying when Marcus was speaking to think how soon the darkness was to close around them. It was after this that the soldiers marched silently up and then away. The whole matter was unexplained to the negroes, as by command we were not to speak of it to-night, lest the negroes should take to the woods. Robert, however, asked Nelly why we were going to Hilton Head, and other questions. Mr. Hooper and Mr. Pierce both having gone away, I determined to go and tell Rina that their masters were not coming back, for this I saw was their fear. So I went out to the yard and along to Rina's house. I knocked, but she did not answer, and then I went to Susannah's. There was no answer there either and so I came home. But the poor people, though all looked quiet in the little street, were really watching and trembling. They set a guard or watch all along the Bay here, and poor old Phyllis told me she shook all night with fear. I suppose there was little sleep. Old Bess, when I went to dress her leg, said, “Oh, I had such a night, so ’fraid. Dey all run and I not a foot to stan' on. Dey must leave me. Oh, missus, do cure my leg. What shall poor Bess do when dey all take to de woods, and I can't go — must stay here to be killed. Dey kill me sure.” I told her they would not kill the women, but she was sure they would shoot them or “lick” them to death. We were astir early and up very late, for after twelve o'clock we heard a horse gallop up and a man's step on the porch. I got out of the window and peeped over. It was Stevens' orderly with his horse. I went down, let him have Mr. Hooper's bed on the parlor floor, and tie his horse in the yard. After breakfast I went but to the cotton house and was getting old Phyllis some clothes, when Nelly sent for me. When I got in I saw two or three of the men standing on the porch talking together and Captain S. saying it was dirty work and that he would resign his commission before he would do it again. It appears that he had been up all night riding over the island, and the poor soldiers had to march all that time through the deep sand, those who had the farthest to go, and they were ill-supplied with food. When the men came in from the stables and field, Captain S. told them to stand below the steps while he spoke to them. So they gathered around, distrust or dismay or else quiet watching on their faces. “General Hunter has sent for you to go to Hilton Head and you must go.” Here the two soldiers who came with him began loading their guns noisily. Captain S. went on to say that General H. did not mean to make soldiers of them against their will, that they should return if they wished to; but that they had better go quietly. Miss W. then asked leave to speak, told them we knew nothing of this, but that we knew General H. to be a friend to the black men, and they must trust, as we did, that all was right and go willingly. “Oh, yes, missus,” they all said, and some looked willing; others less so, but they all seemed to submit passively and patiently if not trustfully. I said, “I hope you will all be back again in a few days with your free papers, but if you are needed, I hope you will stay and help to keep off the rebels.” Some mentioned their wives, and begged in a low tone that Miss W. would care for them; two set out to bid good-bye and a soldier followed them. Others sent for their caps and shoes, and without a farewell to their wives were marched unprepared from the field to their uncertain fate. It made my blood boil to see such arbitrary proceedings, and I ached to think of the wives, who began to collect in the little street, and stood looking towards their husbands and sons going away so suddenly and without a word or look to them. I gave each negro man a half-dollar and Miss W. each a piece of tobacco, and then they marched off. Sometime after I saw the women still standing, and I went, on the excuse of dressing Bess's leg, down to them. Some were crying bitterly, some looked angry and revengeful, but there was more grief than anything else. I reassured them a little, I think, and told them we would not leave them in danger and fly without letting them know. How they could see their able-bodied men carried away so by force when they were all last night in the terror of their masters’ return, I do not see, for they must see that with these men gone, they are like lambs left without dogs when there are wolves about. How rash of General Hunter to risk the danger of resistance on their part, and how entirely unprotected he leaves us! Besides, he takes the laborers from the field and leaves the growing crop to waste, for the women alone cannot manage all these cotton and corn fields now that the foreman and ploughman have gone. This Mr. Pierce stated forcibly to General Hunter, and he admitted he had not thought of that. At least he might have thought of the limits of his authority, for such forced levies are surely not at the discretion of any general. It was so headlong!

At Nelly's school the children saw the soldiers coming with their fathers and brothers. They began to cry and sob, and could not be comforted, for Nelly could say nothing but that she knew no more than they did what it all meant. But she soon dismissed school and came home to this sad house. We have been indignant and very sad, but I have had too much to do to feel deeply or think at all. I have had everybody at the plantation up to the cotton-room and have given each some garments. This, with selling, took my entire day.

It is heart-rending to hear of the scenes to-day — of how in some places the women and children clung and cried — in others, how the men took to the woods and were hunted out by the soldiers — of how patiently they submitted, or trusted in others. Just at dusk a great number with a guard were marched to this place. Mr. Pierce would not let them stay. He made a little speech to the negroes. Told them General Hunter said they should not be made soldiers against their will, and that he hoped they would get their free papers by going. Told them to be cheerful, though it was not pleasant being marched away from home and wives. They said, “Yes, sah,” generally with cheerfulness. We then said good-bye to them; Miss W. and I having gone to them and Said a few words of encouragement. The soldiers were grumbling at the work, and at having had to march day and night on four biscuit — dinnerless and supperless, and through sand, on a repulsive duty; it is pretty hard. They were the Seventy-ninth New York (Highlanders), Company D.

About four hundred men, or perhaps not so many, were taken to Beaufort to-night and are to go to Hilton Head to-morrow. The population is here about 3000 to St. Helena's, and 1500 to Ladies' Island. It is too late to retrace this step, but the injustice need be carried no further. Mr. P. wants to write full accounts to the War Department, but I will not do as he wishes — give my observation of to-day's scenes, till I know that General H. is not trying for freedom.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 41-7

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, August 8, 1854

Washington, Aug. 8, 1854.

Dear Pierce, I do not know whether you have a copy of the Appeal of the Independent Democrats. I regard that as the most valuable of my works. I expect to be in Concord, N. H., on Saturday night — after two or three days there my course is uncertain.

Yours faithfully,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

P. S. I find but one and that so blotted that I fear you can hardly make out the first page.

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 263

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, May 21, 1854

Washington, May 21,1854.

My Dear Mr. Pierce: I enclose a copy of an Address to the People of Ohio with the signatures already obtained. I will telegraph you on Monday or Tuesday the names of other signers and the despatch will reach you I suppose as soon if not sooner than this note.

Please call at once on Col. Schouler¹ and have the Address put in type with all the signatures affixed as telegraphed; and have slips furnished to the other papers. If the Gazette folks demur at all to publication — which I do not at all expect, call on some other paper — the Times or the Columbian.

A Public Meeting should be held to denounce the rascality without delay.

Yours truly,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

_______________

¹ William Schouler, the father of the historian James Schouler, was at this time one of the editors of the Cincinnati Gazette.

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 261

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, May 16, 1854

Washington, May 16, 1854.

My Dear Pierce: I enclose to you a brief which has no merit except simplicity and directness.

Many thanks to you for the pamphlet you sent me. I have not yet had time to read it, but shall certainly do so. I read your article in support of Mrs. Peters design with great pleasure, and am gratified you find time for such good work.

Sumner showed me your letter about E. S. I rejoiced greatly to hear of his success. That he should have failed of a good and appreciative audience in Circuit would have been a personal mortification to me.

The Nebraska scheme is on its legs again. Its passage into law is uncertain; it will be determined by superior tactics. Nous verroux, as Father Ritchie used to say, when disposed to seem sagacious and to make a parade of all the French the Revolution of '98 ever permitted him to acquire.

Have you seen Derby about publishing that book? I am sometimes spoken to on the subject, and would try to furnish you the material if Derby thinks fit to undertake the publication.

Yours truly.

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 260-1

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, March 12, 1854

Washington, Mar. 12, 1854.

My Dear Mr. Pierce. Your letter is very cheering and consolatory. Here “where Satan's net is”, the nearest sounds are those of denunciation and abuse. With these harsh tones it is very agreeable to hear intermingled the voices of friendship and sympathy.

Sumner was much pleased with your last letter to him, which he showed me. You did not compliment him too strongly on his speech. It was a splendid effort in clearness of historical statement; in beauty of style; and in force of expression unsurpassed by any previous utterance of his; though I must say as I told him that it did not equal, as an argument, his speech against the Fugitive Slave Law.

It gave me real pleasure to read Reemelin's remarks. He is a man of genius, force and knowledge. If he and Molitor side with the Independent Democracy we may hope for great things. If in addition to this [illegible] Day would Start a paper!

Thanks for your kind opinion of my speech. It was delivered from notes, written the morning I spoke — though I had given all the time I could command for two or three days to reading up and writing down. My preparation was very inadequate and I was surprised to get off so well as I did in the actual delivery. Perhaps I was indebted, in fact, for my success to the audience which was very brilliant. For the only time this session the ladies were admitted on the floor. It was corrected from the Reporter's notes on the jump on the Evening after the delivery and the next morning; for I had to dine at the French Minister's that next day and I wanted to have it out Monday. This will account for some defects of style which you must have noticed.

It is rather pleasant to feel that I have done some service in the battle; and to know that the service is appreciated. It is rather strange to me, however, to receive much commendation, having, almost my whole life, been laboring for an unpopular though just cause — unpopular perhaps because misunderstood.

I shall place Mr. Mann's name on my list and send him as well as yourself a copy of a new edition.

We Senators have no copies of the Census Report. I will endeavor to procure you one however.

I regret, very much, to have you say that you are not contented in the office. I hope your discontent is not with the office and that your longings for distant fields will be abated by time. Having acquired you, we must not lose you.

I think of coming to Cincinnati before long.

Faithfully your friend,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 258-60

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, February 23, 1854

Washington, Feb. 23,1854.

My Dear Pierce:— Your article had already attracted my attention and I had cut it out for Bailey to print if he could find room, before receiving the Columbian with your autograph which revealed to me the author. It is a capital article well conceived and admirably expressed. It makes me regret that you propose to devote yourself to the law rather than to the wider and widening field of journalism. If you would devote yourself to the establishment of a paper in Cincinnati, such as the N. York Times in New York, you would in ten or fifteen years have a fortune in it besides wielding an almost uncomputable influence.

Sumner acquitted himself nobly — grandly. His speech satisfied every expectation.¹

We hope to kill the monster; but we want the voice of a great meeting at Cincinnati.

Yours truly,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

_______________

¹ Sumner’s speech of February 21, 1854.

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 258

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, January 17, 1854

Washington, Jan’y 17, 1854.

My Dear Sir: I thank you for little note and for your kind appreciation of my wishes rather than my successes in serving you. I am glad you are in Cincinnati, for you are almost the only man in Ohio to whom I confidently look for a real appreciation and sympathy with my views and plans for the advancement of our great and noble cause. The notions of so many are contracted — their aspirations so low — their sympathies so phlegmatic — and what might else be in them noble and generous so turned awry, dwarfed and cramped by the incessant claims of mere business, or the debasing influences of party that I sometimes feel as if I hardly knew where to look for a genuine, whole man on whom I can confidently lean. May I not hope to find such a one in you?

And now with this preface I shall ask you, at once, for a little service. I want you to become acquainted with the conductors of the Times and the Columbian; ascertain their tendencies, and see whether they are not willing to render me some justice.

About everything I have done for Ohio and the West has been positively ignored. I, first, introduced a successful motion for Custom Houses including apartments for Post Office, Courts, etc. etc. The precedent which I established in the cases of Cincinnati & St. Louis has been followed at other points and now the West begins to receive some share of the Public Expenditures in these respects. I, first, introduced and carried through the Senate a proposition to cede to Ohio the Public Lands within her limits. It failed in the House, no Ohio member taking enough interest in it to secure for it even a fair hearing. Again I introduced the bill in a modified form last session. But the session being short and business crowded & the Committee reluctant, I did not get it through the Senate. I have again introduced the same measure this Session and shall I think get it through. I have a favorable report made yesterday. It now includes all the Lands in the Va. Mil. District, which, under an amendment which I had inserted in a Bill relating to Va. Mil. Scrip, were relieved from the trust in favor of Virginia. Again I introduced and carried through the propositions which have initiated the Pacific Railroad. I might go on; but I won't weary you. Who, in Ohio, knows what I have done? Never, it seems to me, has a man who was earnestly laboring to accomplish practical good, been more poorly sustained.

I confess it galls me to read such a paragraph as the following from the Chillicothe Advertiser of the 13th inst. [newspaper clipping] “We hope the Legislature of Ohio will elect a Democrat Senator who will give character and importance to the State in the United States Senate. It is undoubtedly useless to express such a hope, for we believe the men of that body to be men who will so act, without reference to personal feelings or outside appliances, as will, in their judgments, conduce, in the largest degree, to the honor of the State and the glory of the Democratic party.”

The implication that Ohio has not had a Democratic Senator, who gives character to the State, is in keeping with the course such persons have uniformly pursued towards me.

You know enough of my course and can inform yourself sufficiently in respect to it by examining the Columns of the Globe to form a correct opinion of such an estimate. I desire no comparisons with my predecessors; but I shrink from none.

Now if you can write a few articles and have place further in the Times and Columbian, they will be copied into friendly papers, and do something at least towards changing this current.

If you see Miss Chalfant, I pray you to assure her of my warm regard and kindest remembrances. Has her sister, Mrs. Marshall, returned from California? I hear so; but can hardly believe it.

Yours cordially,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 252-4

Senator Salmon P. Chase to Edward L. Pierce, July 4, 1853

Chicago, July 4, 1853.

My Dear Sir: I have just returned from Missouri. Your letter reached me I think at St. Louis. I regret not seeing your brother, or yourself. You have seen that I did not speak at St. Louis and why it was best that I could not; I believe the correspondence will do more than a speech would have done.

Chicago is a flourishing place but the total ensemble did not please me. I should prefer Cincinnati or St. Louis to live in.

What would you think of the life editorial and taking charge of a paper here" or at Chicago? [sic] 1 am pretty certain you could succeed, and win reputation and fortune as well as at the bar.

Yours truly,

[SALMON P. CHASE.]

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 251-2

Diary of Laura M. Towne: April 17, 1862

Beaufort, S.C., April 17, 1862.

At Mrs. John Forbes',¹ formerly Mr. Tripp's house,— a modern built new building with expensive sea wall and other improvements. The wind blows freshly nearly all day and the tide rises over sandy, grassy flats on three sides of the house. These sands are full of fiddler-crab holes, and are at low tide the resort of negro children with tubs on their heads, crabbing. Soldiers, fishermen, and stragglers also come there, and we see not a little life. Boats frequently pass by, the negro rowers singing their refrains. One very pretty one this morning Moses told me was: —

“De bells done rang

An' we goin' home —

The bells in heaven are ringing.”

Every now and then they shout and change the monotony by several very quick notes, or three or four long-drawn-out ones. One man sings a few words and the chorus breaks in, sometimes with a shout or interjecttional notes. Another song was, “We're bound to go” — to heaven, I suppose. Another had a chorus of “Oh yes, ma'am,” at every five or six bars.

Yesterday Caroline² took us to her mother's house. They were expecting us and were neatly dressed, and elegantly furnished indeed was their room. It had straw matting and a mahogany bureau, besides other things that said plainly “massa's” house had contributed to the splendor, probably after the hasty retreat of “massa's” family. The two women there were both of the colored aristocracy, had lived in the best families, never did any work to speak of, longed for the young ladies and young “mas'rs” back again, because April was the month they used to come to Beaufort and have such gay times. But if their masters were to come back they wanted to go North with us. They begged us to stay, for “seemed like they couldn't be happy widout white ladies ‘roun’.” They hoped it would be healthy so that we could stay, but they thought it would not be so, because the city is not cleaned as it used to be. They would have gone with their masters, both of them, but they had relations whom they did not want to be parted from, “except by death,” who were not going. One of them had gone at first, but ran away and found her way back here, “by de direction of de Lord.” They were both nice women. In the quarters we afterward went to, we saw a dirty family and two horribly ugly old women. They had got a lesson from some one and said, “We got to keep clean or we'll all be sick.” They were not putting their lesson to use.

The little cook-house belonging to this fine mansion is dark and dirty, but nearly empty. Cut-glass tumbler and flower glass on the mantelpiece spoke of the spoliation. Caroline, who escorted us, walked a little distance behind, without bonnet or any outdoor garment. She, however, wore a silver thimble very ostentatiously and carried a little bit of embroidered curtain for a pocket handkerchief, holding it at the middle with her hand put daintily at her waist. We passed a soldier — they are at every corner — and he said something rather jeering. Caroline stepped up, grinning with delight, and told us he said, “There goes the Southern aristocracy with their nigger behind them.” She seemed to be prouder than ever after this. She is rather pretty, very intelligent and respectful, but not very industrious, I fancy.

The walk through the town was so painful, not only from the desertion and desolation, but more than that from the crowd of soldiery lounging, idling, growing desperate for amusement and occupation, till they resort to brutality for excitement. I saw a soldier beating a horse so that I think it possible he killed him. Others galloped past us in a most reckless, unconscionable manner; others stared and looked unfriendly; others gave us a civil military salute and a look as if they saw something from home gladly. There are two Pennsylvania regiments here now, I think. The artillery is encamped near here.

Besides soldiers the streets are full of the oddest negro children — dirty and ragged, but about the same as so many Irish in intelligence, I think, though their mode of speaking is not very intelligible.

The streets are lovely in all that nature does for them. The shade trees are fine, the wild flowers luxuriant, and the mocking-birds perfectly enchanting. They are so numerous and noisy that it is almost like being in a canary bird fancier's.

This morning we went — Mrs. Forbes, Mr. Philbrick,³ and I — to two of the schools. There are not many pupils now, as the General is sending all the negro women and children to the plantations to keep them away from the soldiers. They say that at Hilton Head the negroes are getting unmanageable from mixing with the soldiers, and this is to be prevented here. Women and children, some with babies, some with little toddling things hanging about them, were seated and busily at work. We saw in the school Mrs. Nicholson, Miss White, and Mr. Nichols, who was teaching the little darkies gymnastics and what various things were for, eyes, etc. He asked what ears were made for, and when they said, “To yer with,” he could not understand them at all. The women were given the clothes they make up for their children. I saw some very low-looking women who answered very intelligently, contrary to my expectations, and who were doing pretty good sewing.

There are several very light children at these schools, two with red hair, and one boy who has straight black hair and a head like Andrew Jackson, tall and not wide, but with the front remarkably developed so as to give it an overhanging look. Some, indeed most of them, were the real bullet-headed negroes.

In Miss White's school all of them knew their letters, and she was hearing a class spell words of one syllable.

I have seen little, but have had two talks with both Mr. Pierce⁴ and Mr. French,⁵ and have heard from Mrs. Forbes much of what has been going on as she sees it. Mr. Hooper⁶ also enlightens me a little, and Mr. Philbrick. They all say that the cotton agents have been a great trouble and promise still to be, but Mr. French says we have gained the victory there. There seems to me to be a great want of system, and most incongruous elements here. Some of the women are uneducated and coarse in their looks, but I should think some of them at least are earnest and hard workers. Perhaps they are better fitted for this work than people with more refinement, for it certainly takes great nerve to walk here among the soldiers and negroes and not be disgusted or shocked or pained so much as to give it all up.

The Boston and Washington ladies have all gone to the plantations on the islands near here, where I am also going, and that leaves Mr. French and the New York party for the mainland, or I mean for Beaufort and this island. . . .

I have felt all along that nothing could excuse me for leaving home, and work undone there, but doing more and better work here. Nothing can make amends to my friends for all the anxiety I shall cause them, for the publicity of a not pleasant kind I shall bring upon them, but really doing here what no one else could do as well. So I have set myself a hard task. I shall want Ellen's⁷ help. We shall be strong together — I shall be weak apart.

I think a rather too cautious spirit prevails — antislavery is to be kept in the background for fear of exciting the animosity of the army, and we are only here by military sufferance. But we have the odium of out-and-out abolitionists, why not take the credit? Why not be so confident and freely daring as to secure respect! It will never be done by an apologetic, insinuating way of going to work.

I wish they would all say out loud quietly, respectfully, firmly, “We have come to do anti-slavery work, and we think it noble work and we mean to do it earnestly.”

Instead of this, they do not even tell the slaves that they are free, and they lead them to suppose that if they do not do so and so, they may be returned to their masters. They keep in the background with the army the benevolence of their plans or the justice of them, and merely insist upon the immediate expediency, which I must say is not very apparent. If they do not take the  higher ground, their cause and reputation are lost. But the work will go on. May I help it!

_______________

¹ Mrs. John M. Forbes. Mr. Forbes had rented a house in Beaufort for a short time.

² A negro servant.

³ Edward S. Philbrick, of Brookline, Massachusetts, who had volunteered for service in the Sea Islands, and been given charge of three plantations.

⁴ Edward L. Pierce, the government agent.

⁵ Rev. Mansfield French.

⁶ Edward W. Hooper, later Treasurer of Harvard College.

⁷ Miss Ellen Murray.

Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 3-9