Letters from the South
NO. IV.
THE “UNCONQUERED” CLASS.
[FROM A REGULAR CORRESPONDENT.]
OPINION IN SAVANNAH.
As the preparations for the restoration of the civil
power in the States lately in rebellion are going on,
it is necessary to inquire how far the sentiment which
may be called “returning loyalty” has developed
itself. Savannah was in secession times noted as one of
the hottest rebel places. It is asserted that a large
majority of the people of Georgia was at the breaking
out of the insurrectionary movement opposed to
succession. From what I hear, and from the evidence
of the current of popular sentiment we had at the
time, I am inclined to believe that it was so, although
large numbers of original Union men were afterwards
drawn into the vortex of the rebellion. But even
during the war there was a secret society organized in
the interior of the State, called the “United Americans,”
mostly composed of poor people. This society was
consistent throughout, even in the most trying times,
in its adherence to the old Union and its active
opposition to the rebel government. The sentiments of
its members manifested themselves in several localities
in a persistent and sometimes successful opposition
to the execution of the conscription laws, and
are said to have been on the point of breaking out
in open insurrection against the confederate rule
about the time when General Sherman's army passed
through Georgia. These people have remained faithful,
and are at the present moment, as I understand,
in good faith furthering the objects of the national
government. But they are in no hurry to see the
State government reconstructed and to see thereby
the party that ruled them in secession times restored
to influence and power. They would, on the contrary,
prefer a continuance of the military rule, until
the people generally have come to a better understanding
of their situation.
But the good things that may be said of the country people can readily be applied to the people of the city. Talking with the more intelligent members of the community, you will find them apparently quite practicable. Many of them acknowledge that the best they can do is to accommodate themselves to the existing state of things. They acknowledge it, I say, but they acknowledge it with a scowl; they cannot master themselves enough to abstain from giving vent to their sour feelings by occasional sarcasms, now will they omit to give you to understand that they mean to shape the existing state of things somewhat according to their taste when the civil management of their home affairs will again be in their hands. Still, they will learn, and, probably, they will learn rapidly. It is indeed not to be expected that they should wear a smile on their faces now. They have suffered much; their social standing is in a great measure broken up; most of them are in actual want; their personal property, their investments in confederate bonds or bank or railroad stocks are irretrievably gone; although owners of large tracts of land, they have, in many instances, not the wherewithal to buy a breakfast, and not possessing the elastic spirit characteristic of our Northern race, they are completely at sea as to what they shall do to get a new start in the race of life. But most of them, as they are pressed on by their necessities, will gradually learn how to make the best of actual circumstances, and as they become active again, will also become more or less reconciled to their situation. I have seen a good many planters here who mean to go to work, and although their minds are still warped by old prejudices, are commencing to think in the right direction. Thus they are started on the way to true loyalty.
THE UNCONQUERED.
But there is another class of people here, mostly
younger men, who are still in the swearing mood.
You can overhear their conversations as you pass
them on the streets, or even sitting near them on the
stoop of a hotel. They are “not conquered, but only
overpowered.” They are only smothered for a
time. They want to fight the war over again, and
they are sure in five years we are going to have a
war bigger than any we have seen yet. They are
impatient to get rid of “this d—d military despotism.”
They will show us what stuff Southern men
are made of. They will send their own men to Congress,
and show us that we cannot violate the Constitution
with impunity. They have a rope ready for
this or that Union man, when the Yankee bayonets
are gone. They will show the Northern interlopers,
that have settled down here to live on their substance,
the way home. They will deal largely in tar and
feathers. They have been in the country, and visited
this and that place, where a fine business is done
in the way of killing niggers. They will let the
nigger know what freedom is, only let the Yankee
soldiers be withdrawn. Such is their talk. You can hear
it every day if you have your ears open. You see
their sullen, frowning faces at every street corner.
Now, there may be much of the old Southern braggadocio
in this, and I do not believe that such men will
again resort to open insurrection. But they will
practice private vengeance whenever they can do it
with impunity, and I have heard sober-minded Union
people express their apprehension of it. This spirit
is certainly no evidence of true loyalty.
It was this spirit which was active in an occurrence which disgraced this city on the 4th of July. Perhaps you have heard of it. The colored firemen of this city desired to parade their engines on the anniversary of our independence. If nobody else would, they felt like celebrating that day, and nobody will deny that it was a legitimate desire. At first the engineer of the fire department, who is a citizen of this town, refused his permission. Finally, by the interposition of an officer of the Freedmen's Bureau, he was prevailed upon to give his consent, and the parade took place. In the principal street of the city the procession was attacked with clubs and stones by a mob composed of the element above described and of a crowd of boys, all swearing at the d—d niggers. The colored firemen were knocked down, some of them severely injured; their engine was taken away from them, and the peaceable procession dispersed. Down with the d—d nigger! was the cry. A Northern gentleman who loudly expressed his indignation at the proceeding was in danger of being mobbed, and had to seek safety in a house. You ask, where were the military? Alas! a number of Northern soldiers joined the ruffians in the attack. Northern soldiers, stationed in the South, do not always abstain from showing some of their old Five Points spirit, when the “nigger” is the victim. Witness the 165th New York, Duryea's Zouaves, who knocked down negroes in the streets of Charleston, and drove them out of the market house, merely for a pastime, and were then, by the praiseworthy energy of Generals Gillmore and Hatch, disarmed, deprived of their colors, and shut up in Fort Sumter, to spend their time in meditation until they shall be dishonorably mustered out.
To return to the “unconquered” in Savannah — the occurrence of the 4th of July shows what they are capable of doing even while the Yankee bayonets are still here. If, from this, we infer what they will be capable of doing when the Yankee bayonets are withdrawn, the prospect is not altogether pleasant, and Union people, white and black, in this city and neighborhood may well entertain serious apprehensions. How numerous this “unconquered” element is, I am not able to say; perhaps not numerous enough to organize rows on a grand scale, beyond the limits of a city or a neighborhood. But it is certainly strong enough to interrupt the peaceable development of things to render it dangerous for Union men to live here, to prevent immigration from the North, and to bring about serious conflicts between the whites and blacks.
THE VEIL QUESTION.
Unfortunately this spirit receives much encouragement
from the fair sex. We have heard so much of
the bitter resentment of the Southern ladies that the
tale becomes stale by frequent repetition. But when
inquiring into the feelings of the people, this element
must not be omitted. There are certainly a good
many sensible women in the South who have arrived
at a just appreciation of the circumstances with which
they are surrounded. But there is a large number of
Southern women who are as vindictive and defiant as
ever, and whose temper does not permit them to lay
their tongue under any restraint. You can see them
in every hotel, and they will treat you to the
most ridiculous exhibitions whenever an occasion
offers. A day or two ago a Union officer, yielding to
an impulse of politeness, handed a dish of pickles
to a Southern lady at the dinner table
of a hotel in this city. A look of unspeakable
scorn and indignation met him. “So you think,”
said the lady, “a Southern woman will take a dish of
pickles from a hand that is dripping with the blood
of her countrymen?” It is remarkable upon what
trifling material this female wrath is feeding and
growing fat. In a certain district in South Carolina
the ladies were some time ago, and perhaps are now,
dreadfully exercized about the veil question. You
may ask me what the veil question is. Formerly, —
under the old order of things, — negro women were not
permitted to wear veils. Now, under the new
order of things, a good many are wearing
veils. This is an outrage which cannot be submitted
to. The white ladies of that neighborhood
agree in being indignant beyond measure. Some
of them declare that whenever they meet a colored
woman wearing a veil, they will tear the veil from
her face. Others, mindful of the consequences which
such an act of violence might draw after it under this
same new order of things, declare their resolve never
to wear veils themselves as long as colored women
wear veils. That is the veil question, and this is the
way it stands at present.
Such things may seem trifling and ridiculous. But it is a well-known fact that a silly woman is sometimes able to exercise a powerful influence over a man not half as silly, and the class of “unconquered” above described is undoubtedly in a great measure composed of individuals that are apt to be influenced by silly women. It has frequently been said that, had it not been for the spirit of Southern women, the rebellion would have broken down long ago, and there is, no doubt, a grain of truth in it. The same spirit of the female part of the community, although undoubtedly at present much less powerful in a quantitative sense, is now contributing to keep those bitter feelings alive, which as long as kept under a sufficient control, may be harmless and gradually die away, but which, if prematurely relieved of that control, may lead to serious conflicts.
THE CURE FOR THE EVILS.
The picture I have drawn may seem very dark,
and the question will arise, “How shall we ever get
along with these people?” But I take by no means
a desponding view of the case. Although all I have
reported is strictly true, yet I wish it to be understood,
in the first place, that what I have said applies
only to Savannah and to the people congregating here.
It is quite possible and, indeed, probable, that in
other parts of this State, things are in a more favorable
condition. And, in the second place, even if the description
applied to a majority of the people, I have
no doubt, time and a judicious management of things
will enable us to overcome many of the difficulties
now surrounding the problem. Only we must not
indulge in the delusion that at the present time the
civil power in these States can already, with safety,
be reorganized on that basis, upon which its restoration
is proposed; nor in the other delusion, that all
is done when a sufficient number of people have taken
the oath of allegiance to elect delegates to a
convention or a legislature, and a governor and
senators and members of Congress. No judicious and
impartial observer will deny that, taking into consideration
only the safety of these people themselves, whites
and blacks, it would be dangerous under present
circumstances to remove military rule and to put civil
government in its place. It may be said that a
continuation of military rule will have an irritating
effect. That would be true were there not another
agency at work which must necessarily have a sobering
effect. It is the necessity to work or starve.
That necessity will soon come down upon the unruly
spirits of this region as a terrible reality. A great
many are still able to live somehow; there are some
hidden resources which are not quite exhausted. But
soon it will become clear to everybody that “something
must be done” without delay. And that
something will be work. I have no doubt, labor once
becoming the general occupation of society, — of
course, there will always be exceptions, — it will have
a wonderfully soothing effect, not immediate, perhaps,
for they will cast many a look behind them;
but sure, as they gradually cut loose from the past
and embark in good faith in the cause of useful
activity. But until they have thus cut loose from the
past, it will be a dangerous experiment to put
Southern society upon its own legs.
I will give you a sample of the grim humor with which the necessity to work is acknowledged. It is from the Augusta, Georgia, Constitutionalist. The interesting victim of circumstances dismounts from the high horse of chivalry and steps upon the prosy level of real life. One more grand flourish of trumpets, the old fanfare music so familiar to us, and then “work for a living.”
“The chivalry, says a snarling scrub-writer, must work for a living. The fellow is undoubtedly right, though he might have used a little more courtesy in expressing his opinion. Henceforth the impoverished youth of the South must look to labor for a livelihood, and the sooner the truth be realized the better. We are far from believing in the so-called nobility of labor, for if our memory serves us, labor is but the primal curse. In the days of our first innocency, we read of no such thing as eating one's bread in the sweat of one's brow, and it would take more than the tumid platitudes of rhetorical parsons to convince us that there is any dignity in toil. Still, while holding to the Scripture doctrine that labor is a curse, we can readily see that the highest manhood may be displayed in the cheerful, stout-hearted performance of any responsibility Providence may see fit to cast upon us. Death, too, is a curse, and we fancy it would be a dexterous sophist who could find any material for glorification in the existence of that stern incident to humanity — yet death may be met in such a way as to reflect the highest honor on the dauntless soul that smiles at all its horrors.
“But this is rather a digression, and the little patience one can have with the absurd trash of the day about the dignity of labor, must plead excuse for travelling from the record. We are speaking of the necessity incumbent on our young men to work, in order to rebuild their broken fortunes, or at least secure a decent and comfortable livelihood, and are gratified at knowing many have met that responsibility as promptly as they have ever encountered others.”