University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XII.

Monday, April 15.—Up at dawn. Crossed by ferry to
Portsmouth, and arrived at railway station, which was at no
place in particular, in a street down which the rails were laid.
Mr. Robinson, the superintendent, gave me permission to take
a seat in the engine car, to which I mounted accordingly, was
duly introduced to, and shook hands with the engineer and
the stoker, and took my seat next the boiler. Can any solid
reason be given why we should not have those engine sheds
or cars in England? They consist of a light frame placed on
"the connection of the engine with the tender, and projecting
so as to include the end of the boiler and the stoke-hole.
They protect the engineer from rain, storm, sun, or dust.
Windows at each side afford a clear view in all directions,
and the engineer can step out on the engine itself by the
doors on the front part of the shed. There is just room for
four persons to sit uncomfortably, the persons next the boiler
being continually in dread of roasting their legs at the furnace,
and those next the tender being in danger of getting
logs of wood from it shaken down on their feet. Nevertheless
I rarely enjoyed anything more than that trip. It is true
one's enjoyment was marred by want of breakfast, for I could
not manage the cake of dough and the cup of bitter, sour,
greasy nastiness, called coffee, which were presented to me in
lieu of that meal this morning.

But the novelty of the scene through which I passed atoned
for the small privation. I do not speak of the ragged streets
and lines of sheds through which the train passed, with the
great bell of the engine tolling as if it were threatening death
to the early pigs, cocks, hens, and negroes and dogs which

walked between the rails—the latter, by the by, were always
the first to leave—the negroes generally divided with the
pigs the honor of making the nearest stand to the train—nor
do I speak of the miserable suburbs of wooden shanties, nor
of the expanse of inundated lands outside the town. Passing
all these, we settled down at last to our work: the stoker fired
up, the engine rattled along over the rugged lane between the
trees which now began to sweep around us from the horizon,
where they rose like the bank of a river or the shores of a
sea, and presently we plunged into the gloom of the primeval
forest, struggling as it were, with the last wave of the deluge.

The railroad, leaving the land, boldly leaped into the air,
and was carried on frailest cobweb-seeming tracery of wood
far above black waters, from which rose a thick growth and
upshooting of black stems of dead trees, mingled with the
trunks and branches of others still living, throwing out a most
luxuriant vegetation. The trestle-work over which the train
was borne, judged by the eye, was of the slightest possible
construction. Sometimes one series of trestles was placed
above another, so that the cars ran on a level with the tops
of the trees; and, looking down, we could see before the train
passed the inky surface of the waters, broken into rings and
agitated, round the beams of wood. The trees were draped
with long creepers and shrouds of Spanish moss, which fell
from branch to branch, smothering the leaves in their clammy
embrace, or waving in pendulous folds in the air. Cypress,
live-oak, the dogwood, and pine struggled for life with the
water, and about their stems floated balks of timber, waifs and
strays carried from the rafts by flood, or the forgotten spoils of
the lumberer. On these lay tortoises, turtles, and enormous
frogs, which lifted their heads with a lazy curiosity when the
train rushed by, or flopped into the water as if the sight and
noise were too much for their nerves. Once a dark body of
greater size plashed into the current which marked the course
of a river. "There's many allygaitors come up here at times,"
said the engineer, in reply to my question; "but I don't take
much account of them."

When the trestle-work ceased, the line was continued
through the same description of scenery, generally in the
midst of water, on high embankments which were continually
cut by black rapid streams, crossed by bridges on trestles of
great span. The strange tract we are passing through is the
"Dismal Swamp," a name which must have but imperfectly

expressed its horrors before the railway had traversed its outskirts,
and the canal, which is constructed in its midst, left
traces of the presence of man in that remnant of the world's
exit from the flood. In the centre of this vast desolation there
is a large loch, called "Lake Drummond," in the jungle and
brakes around which the runaway slaves of the plantations
long harbored, and once or twice assembled bands of depredators,
which were hunted down, broken up, and destroyed like
wild beasts.

Mr. Robinson, a young man some twenty-seven years of
age, was an excellent representative of the young American
—full of intelligence, well-read, a little romantic in spite of
his practical habits and dealing with matters of fact, much attached
to the literature, if not to the people, of the old country;
and so far satisfied that English engineers knew something
of their business, as to be anxious to show that American
engineers were not behind them. He asked me about Washington
politics with as much interest as if he had never read a
newspaper. I made a remark to that effect. "Oh, sir, we
can't believe," exclaimed he, "a word we read in our papers.
They tell a story one day, to contradict it the next. We never
know when to trust them, and that's one reason, I believe,
you find us all so anxious to ask questions and get information
from gentlemen we meet travelling." Of the future he
spoke with apprehension; "but," said he, "I am here representing
the interests of a large number of Northern shareholders,
and I will do my best for them. If it comes to blows
after this, they will lose all, and I must stand by my own
friends down South, though I don't belong to it."

So we rattle on, till the scene, at first so attractive, becomes
dreary and monotonous, and I tire of looking out for larger
turtles or more alligators. The silence of these woods is oppressive.
There is no sign of life where the train passes
through the water, except among the amphibious creatures.
After a time, however, when we draw out of the swamp and
get into a dry patch, wild, ragged-looking cattle may be seen
staring at us through the trees, or tearing across the rail, and
herds of porkers, nearly in the wild-boar stage, scuttle over
the open. Then the engineer opens the valve; the sonorous
roar of the engine echoes though the woods, and now and then
there is a little excitement caused by a race between a pig
and the engine, and piggy is occasionally whipped off his legs
by the cow-lifter, and hoisted volatile into the ditch at one

side. When a herd of cattle, however, get on the line and
show fight, the matter is serious. The steam horn is sounded,
the bell rung, and steam is eased off, and every means used to
escape collision; for the railway company is obliged to pay
the owner for whatever animals the trains kill, and a cow's
body on one of these poor rails is an impediment sufficient to
throw the engine off, and "send us to immortal smash."

It was long before we saw any workmen or guards on the
line; but at one place I got out to look at a shanty of one of
the road watchmen. It was a building of logs, some twenty feet
long by twelve feet broad, made in the rudest manner, with an
earthen roof, and mud stuffed and plastered between the logs
to keep out the rain. Although the day was exceedingly hot,
there were two logs blazing on the hearth, over which was
suspended a pot of potatoes. The air inside was stifling, and
the black beams of the roof glistened with a clammy sweat
from smoke and unwholesome vapors. There was not an article
of furniture, except a big deal chest and a small stool, in
the place; a mug and a teacup stood on a rude shelf nailed to
the wall. The owner of this establishment, a stout negro, was
busily engaged with others in "wooding up" the engine from
the pile of cut timber by the roadside. The necessity of stopping
caused by the rapid consumption is one of the désagrémens
of wood fuel. The wood is cut down and stacked on platforms,
at certain intervals along the line; and the quantity
used is checked off against the company at the rate of so much
per cord. The negro was one of many slaves let out to the
company. White men would not do the work, or were too
expensive; but the overseers and gangsmen were whites.
"How can they bear that fire in the hut?" "Well. If you
went into it in the very hottest day in summer, you would find
the niggers sitting close up to blazing pine-logs; and they sleep
at night, or by day when they've fed to the full, in the same
way." My friend, nevertheless, did not seem to understand
that any country could get on without negro laborers.

By degrees we got beyond the swamps, and came upon
patches of cleared land—that is, the forest had been cut
down, and the only traces left of it were the stumps, some four
or five feet high, "snagging" up above the ground; or the
trees had been girdled round, so as to kill them, and the black
trunks and stiff arms gave an air of meagre melancholy and
desertion to the place, which was quite opposite to its real
condition. Here it was that the normal forest and swamp had

been subjugated by man. Presently we came in sight of a
flag fluttering from a lofty pine, which had been stripped of
its branches, throwing broad bars of red and white to the air,
with a blue square in the upper quarter containing seven stars.
"That's our flag,"—said the engineer, who was a quiet man,
much given to turning steam-cocks, examining gauges, wiping
his hands in fluffy impromptu handkerchiefs, and smoking
tobacco—"That's our flag! And long may it wave—o'er
the land of the free and the home of the ber-rave!" As we
passed, a small crowd of men, women, and children, of all
colors, in front of a group of poor broken-down shanties or
log-huts, cheered—to speak more correctly—whooped and
yelled vehemently. The cry was returned by the passengers
in the train. "We're all the right sort hereabouts," said the
engineer. "Hurrah for Jeff Davis! "The right sort were
not particularly flourishing in outward aspect, at all events.
The women, pale-faced, were tawdry and ragged; the men,
yellow, seedy looking. For the first time in the States, I
noticed barefooted people.

Now began another phase of scenery—an interminable
pine-forest, far as the eye could reach, shutting out the light
on each side by a wooden wall. From this forest came the
strongest odor of turpentine; presently black streaks of
smoke floated out of the wood, and here and there we passed
cleared spaces, where in rude-loodiog furnaces and factories
people more squalid and miserable looking than before were
preparing pitch, tar, turpentine, rosin, and other naval stores,
for which this part of North Carolina is famous. The stems
of the trees around are marked by white scars, where the tappings
for the turpentine take place, and many dead trunks
testified how the process ended.

Again, over another log village, a Confederate flag floated
in the air; and the people ran out, negroes and all, and cheered
as before. The new flag is not so glaring and gaudy as
the Stars and Stripes; but, at a distance, when the folds hang
together, there is a considerable resemblance in the general
effect of the two. If ever there is a real sentiment du drapeau got up in the South, it will be difficult indeed for the North
to restore the Union. These pieces of colored bunting seem
to twine themselves through heart and brain.

The stations along the roadside now gradually grew in proportion,
and instead of a small sentry-box beside a wood pile,
there were three or four wooden houses, a platform, a booking

office, an "exchange" or drinking room, and general stores,
like the shops of assorted articles in an Irish town. Around
these still grew the eternal forest, or patches of cleared land
dotted with black stumps. These stations have very grand
names, and the stores are dignified by high-sounding titles;
nor are "billiard saloons" and "restaurants" wanting. We
generally found a group of people waiting at each; and it
really was most astonishing to see well-dressed, respectable-looking
men and women emerge out of the "dismal swamp,"
and out of the depths of the forest, with silk parasols and
crinoline, bandboxes and portmanteaux, in the most civilized
style. There were always some negroes, male and female, in
attendance on the voyagers, handling the baggage or the babies,
and looking comfortable enough, but not happy. The
only evidence of the good spirits and happiness of these people
which I saw was on the part of a number of men who
were going off from a plantation for the fishing on the coast.
They and their wives and sisters, arrayed in their best—which
means their brightest, colors—were grinning from ear to
ear as they bade good-by. The negro likes the mild excitement
of sea fishing, and in pursuit of it he feels for the moment
free.

At Goldsborough, which is the first place of importance on
the line, the wave of the Secession tide struck us in full career.
The station, the hotels, the street through which the rail ran
was filled with an excited mob, all carrying arms, with signs
here and there of a desire to get up some kind of uniform—
flushed faces, wild eyes, screaming mouths, hurrahing for
"Jeff Davis" and "the Southern Confederacy," so that the
yells overpowered the discordant bands which were busy with
"Dixie's Land." Here was the true revolutionary furor in
fall sway. The men hectored, swore, cheered, and slapped
each other on the backs; the women, in their best, waved
handkerchiefs and flung down garlands from the windows.
All was noise, dust, and patriotism.

It was a strange sight and a wonderful event at which we
were assisting. These men were a levy of the people of
North Carolina called out by the Governor of the State for
the purpose of seizing upon forts Caswell and Macon, belonging
to the Federal Government, and left unprotected and undefended.
The enthusiasm of the "citizens" was unbounded,
nor was it quite free from a taint of alcohol. Many of the
volunteers had flint firelocks, only a few had rifles. All

kinds of head-dress were visible, and caps, belts, and pouches
of infinite variety. A man in a large wide-awake, with a
cock's feather in it, a blue frock-coat, with a red sash and a
pair of cotton trousers thrust into his boots, came out of
Griswold's Hotel with a sword under his arm, and an article
which might have been a napkin of long service, in one hand.
He waved the article enthusiastically, swaying to and fro on
his legs, and ejaculating "H'ra for Jeff Dav's—H'ra for
S'thern E'r'rights!" and tottered over to the carriage through
the crowd amid the violent vibration of all the ladies' handkerchiefs
in the balcony. Just as he got into the train, a man
in uniform dashed after him, and caught him by the elbow,
exclaiming, "Them's not the cars, General! The cars this
way, General! "The military dignitary, however, felt that if
he permitted such liberties in the hour of victory he was degraded
forever, so, screwing up his lips and looking grave
and grand, he proceeded as follows: "Sergeant, you go be
—. I say these are my cars! They're all my cars! I'll
send them where I please—to—if I like, sir. They
shall go where I please—to New York, sir, or New Orleans,
sir! And—sir, I'll arrest you." This famous idea distracted
the General's attention from his project of entering the
train, and muttering, "I'll arrest you," he tacked backwards
and forwards to the hotel again.

As the train started on its journey, there was renewed
yelling, which split the ear—a savage cry many notes higher
than the most ringing cheer. At the wayside inn, where we
dined—pièce de résistance being pig—the attendants, comely,
well-dressed, clean negresses were slaves—"worth a thousand
dollars each." I am not favorably impressed by either the
food or the mode of living, or the manners of the company.
One man made very coarse jokes about "Abe Lincoln" and
"negro wenches," which nothing but extreme party passion
and bad taste could tolerate. Several of the passengers had
been clerks in Government offices at Washington, and had
been dismissed because they would not take the oath of allegiance.
They were hurrying off full of zeal and patriotism
to tender their services to the Montgomery Government.

  *  *  *  *  *  *  

I had been the object of many attentions and civilities from
gentlemen in the train during my journey. One of them, who
told me he was a municipal dignitary of Weldon, having exhausted
all the inducements that he could think of to induce

me to spend some time there, at last, in desperation, said he
would be happy to show me "the antiquities of the place."
Weldon is a recent uprising in wood and log-houses from the
swamps, and it would puzzle the archæologists of the world
to find anything antique about it.

At nightfall the train stopped at Wilmington, and I was
shot out on a platform under a shed, to do the best I could.
In a long, lofty, and comfortless room, like a barn, which
abutted on the platform, there was a table covered with a
dirty cloth, on which lay little dishes of pickles, fish, meat, and
potatoes, at which were seated some of our fellow-passengers.
The equality of all men is painfully illustrated when your
neighbor at table eats with his knife, dips the end of it into
the salt, and disregards the object and end of napkins. But
it is carried to a more disagreeable extent when it is held to
mean that any man who comes to an inn has a right to share
your bed. I asked for a room, but I was told that there were
so many people moving about just now that it was not possible
to give me one to myself; but at last I made a bargain
for exclusive possession. When the next train came in, however,
the woman very coolly inquired whether I had any
objection to allow a passenger to divide my bed, and seemed
very much displeased at my refusal; and I perceived three
big-bearded men snoring asleep in one bed in the next room
to me as I passed through the passage to the dining-room.

The "artist" Moses, who had gone with my letter to the
post, returned, after a long absence, pale and agitated. He
said he had been pounced upon by the Vigilance Committee,
who were rather drunk, and very inquisitive. They were
haunting the precincts of the post-office and the railway station,
to detect Lincolnites and Abolitionists, and were obliged
to keep themselves wide awake by frequent visits to the
adjacent bars, and he had with difficulty dissuaded them from
paying me a visit. They cross-examined him respecting my
opinion of Secession, and desired to have an audience with me
in order to give me any information which might be required.
I cannot say what reply was given to their questioning; but
I certainly refused to have any interview with the Vigilance
Committee of Wilmington, and was glad they did not disturb
me. Rest, however, there was little or none. I might have
as well slept on the platform of the railway station outside.
Trains coming in and going out shook the room and the bed
on which I lay, and engines snorted, puffed, roared, whistled,
and rang bells close to my key-hole.