THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
negroes were doing when they had that sort of a meeting. All the doctor could say was that they were talking together, sometimes in whispers, sometimes aloud, having their conspiracies, as he supposed. And then they would even sing and dance and make a noise. The General mildly suggested that this was for the negroes a year of jubilee and that they must be expected to celebrate their freedom in some way. What harm could there be in their singing and dancing? At the North, laboring people sang and danced whenever they pleased, and instead of seeing any harm in it, we rather enjoyed it with them. But the doctor would not be comforted. He repeated again and again that, while this was well enough at the North, his laborers were negroes, who ought to be subordinate, and that, when he told them to retire to their quarters, and they did not do it, he could not possibly tolerate such insolence.
“By the way, doctor,” said the General, “have you made contracts with the negroes on your plantation?”
“Yes.”
“Do they work well?”
“Pretty well so far. My crops are in pretty good condition.”
“Do they steal much?”
“They steal some, but not much.”
“Well, then, doctor, what have you to complain about?”
“Oh, General,” replied the doctor dolefully, “you do not appreciate the dangers of our situation.”
“Now, doctor,” said the General with some impatience, “to cut the matter short, has a single act of violence been perpetrated in your neighborhood by a negro against a white man?”
“Yes, sir!” exclaimed the doctor, apparently confident of
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