 | XXXII. The South-west |  |
32. XXXII.
National diversities of character—Diversities of language—Provincialisms—A
plantation and negroes—Natchez bar—A youthful
judge—Physicians—Clergymen—Merchants, &c. &c.—A southern
mania—“Washing”—Tobacco—Value of cotton planting and statistics—An
easy “way to wealth.”
There are many causes, both moral and physical,
which concur to render the inhabitants of the
south dissimilar to those of the north. Some of
these may be traced to climate, more to education
and local relations, and yet more to that peculiar
state of things which necessarily prevails in a planting
country and all newly organized states. The
difference is clearly distinguishable through all its
grades and ramifications, and so strongly marked as
to stamp the southern character with traits sufficiently
distinctive to be dignified with the term national.
A plantation well stocked with hands, is the ne
plus ultra of every man's ambition who resides at
the south. Young men who come to this country,
“to make money,” soon catch the mania, and nothing
less than a broad plantation, waving with the
snow white cotton bolls, can fill their mental vision,
as they anticipate by a few years in their dreams of
the future, the result of their plans and labours.
professional men of long or eminent standing in
their several professions. In such a state of things
no men grow old or gray in their profession if at
all successful. As soon as the young lawyer acquires
sufficient to purchase a few hundred acres of
the rich alluvial lands, and a few slaves, he quits
his profession at once, though perhaps just rising
into eminence, and turns cotton planter. The bar
at Natchez is composed, with but few exceptions,
entirely of young men. Ten years hence, probably
not four out of five of these, if living, will remain in
their profession. To the prevalence of this custom
of retiring so early from the bar, and not to want of
talent, is to be attributed its deficiency of distinguished
names. There is much talent now concentrated
at this bar, and throughout the state. But
its possessors are young men; and this mania for
planting will soon deprive the state of any benefit
from it in a professional point of view. As the lawyers
are young, the judges cannot of course be
much stricken in years. The northerner, naturally
associates with the title of “Judge,” a venerable,
dignified personage, with locks of snow, a suit of
sober black, and powdered queue, shoe-buckles, and
black silk stockings. Judge my surprise at hearing
at the public table a few days since, a young gentleman,
apparently not more than four or five and
twenty, addressed as “judge!” I at first thought it
applied as a mere “soubriquet,” till subsequently
assured that he was really on the bench.
Physicians make money much more rapidly than
the planter. They, however, retain their
titles, so that medico-planters are now numerous,
far out-numbering the regular practitioners, who
have not yet climbed high enough up the wall to
leap down into a cotton field on the other side.
Ministers, who constitute the third item of the diploma'd
triad, are not free from the universal mania,
and as writing sermons is not coining money,
the plantations are like the vocative in Latin pronouns.
They, however, by observing the command
in Gen. ix. 1, contrive ultimately to reach the same
goal. The merchant moves onward floundering
through invoices, ledgers, packages, and boxes.
The gin-wright and overseer, also have an eye upon
this Ultima Thule, while the more wealthy mechanics
begin to form visions of cotton fields, and talk
knowingly upon the “staple.” Even editors have
an eye that way!
Cotton and negroes are the constant theme—the
ever harped upon, never worn out subject of conversation
among all classes. But a small portion of
the broad rich lands of this thriving state is yet appropriated.
Not till every acre is purchased and
cultivated—not till Mississippi becomes one vast
cotton field, will this mania, which has entered into
the very marrow, bone and sinew of a Mississippian's
system, pass away. And not then, till the
lands become exhausted and wholly unfit for farther
cultivation. The rich loam which forms the upland
soil of this state is of a very slight depth—and
after a few years is worn away by constant culture
are then “thrown out” as useless. Every plough-furrow
becomes the bed of a rivulet after heavy
rains—these uniting are increased into torrents, before
which the impalpable soil dissolves like ice
under a summer's sun. By degrees, acre after
acre, of what was a few years previous beautifully
undulating ground, waving with the dark green,
snow-crested cotton, presents a wild scene of frightful
precipices, and yawning chasms, which are increased
in depth and destructively enlarged after
every rain. There are many thousand acres within
twenty miles of the city of Natchez, being the earliest
cultivated portions of the country, which are
now lying in this condition, presenting an appearance
of wild desolation, and not unfrequently, of
sublimity. This peculiar feature of the country
intrudes itself into every rural prospect, painfully
marring the loveliest country that ever came from
the hand of nature. Natchez itself is nearly isolated
by a deep ravine, which forms a natural moat
around the town. It has been formed by “washing,”
and though serpentine and irregular in its
depth, it is cut with the accuracy of a canal. It is
spanned by bridges along the several roads that
issue from the town.
From the loose and friable nature of this soil,
which renders it so liable to “wash,” as is the expressive
technical term here, the south-west portion
of this state must within a century become
waste, barren, and wild, unless peradventure, some
inventing Yankee, or other patentee may devise a
to “blossom like the rose.” A thick bluish
green grass, termed Bermuda grass, is used with
great success to check the progress of a wash when
it has first commenced.[3] It is very tenacious of the
soil, takes firm and wide root, grows and spreads
rapidly, and soon forms a compact matted surface,
which effectually checks any farther increase of the
ravines, or “bayous,” as these deep chasms are
usually termed; though bayou in its original signification
is applied to creeks, and deep glens,
with or without running water.
When this state was first settled, tobacco was
exclusively cultivated as the grand staple. But this
plant was found to be a great exhauster of the soil;
cotton rapidly superseded its culture, and it was
shortly banished from the state, and found a home
in Tennessee, where it is at present extensively
cultivated. It has not for many years been cultivated
here. Planters have no room for any thing
but their cotton, and corn, on their plantations, and
scarcely are they willing to make room even for the
latter, as they buy a great part of their corn, annually,
from the Kentucky and Indiana flat boats at
the “Landing.”
Among northerners, southern planters are reputed
wealthy. This idea is not far from correct
—as a class they are so; perhaps more so than any
other body of men in America. Like our Yankee
farmers they are tillers of the soil. “But why”
you may ask, “do they who are engaged in the same
pursuits as the New-England farmer, so infinitely
surpass him in the reward of his labours?” The
northern farmer cannot at the most make more than
three per cent. on his farm. He labours himself, or
pays for labour. He must do the first or he cannot
live. If he does the latter, he can make nothing.
If by hard labour and frugal economy, the common
independent Yankee farmer, such as the traveller
meets with any where in New-England, lays up
annually from four to seven hundred dollars, he is a
thriving man and “getting rich.” His daughters
are attractive, and his sons will have something
“handsome” to begin the world with. But the
per cent. by his farm. He works on his plantation
a certain number of slaves, say thirty, which are to
him what the sinewy arms of the Yankee farmer are
to himself. Each slave ought to average from
seven to eight bales of cotton during the season,
especially on the new lands. An acre will generally
average from one to two bales. Each bale
averages four hundred pounds, at from twelve to
fifteen cents a pound. This may not be an exact
estimate, but it is not far from the true one. Deducting
two thousand and five hundred dollars for
the expenses of the plantation, there will remain the
net income of eleven thousand dollars. Now suppose
this plantation and slaves to have been purchased
on a credit, paying at the rate of six hundred
dollars apiece for his negroes, the planter
would be able to pay for nearly two-thirds of them
the first year. The second year, he would pay for
the remainder, and purchase ten or twelve more;
and the third year, if he had obtained his plantation
on a credit of that length of time, he would pay for
that also, and commence his fourth year with a
valuable plantation, and thirty-five or forty slaves,
all his own property, with an increased income for
the ensuing year of some thousands of dollars.
Henceforward, if prudent, he will rank as an opulent
planter. Success is not however always in proportion
to the outlay or expectations of the aspirant for
wealth. It is modified and varied by the wear and
tear, sickness and death, fluctuations of the market,
and many other ills to which all who adventure in
alluded to, numerous plantations in this state have
been commenced, and thus the wealth of a great
number of the opulent planters of this region has
originated. Incomes of twenty thousand dollars are
common here. Several individuals possess incomes
of from forty to fifty thousand dollars, and live in a
style commensurate with their wealth. The amount
is generally expressed by the number of their negroes,
and the number of “bales” they make at a
crop. To know the number of either is to know
accurately their incomes. And as this is easily ascertained,
it is not difficult to form a prompt estimate
of individual wealth.
To sell cotton in order to buy negroes—to make
more cotton to buy more negroes, “ad infinitum,”
is the aim and direct tendency of all the operations
of the thorough-going cotton planter; his whole
soul is wrapped up in the pursuit. It is, apparently,
the principle by which he “lives, moves, and has
his being.” There are some who “work” three
and four hundred negroes, though the average number
is from thirty to one hundred. “This is all
very fine,” you say, “but the slaves!—there's the
rub.” True; but without slaves there could be no
planters, for whites will not and cannot work cotton
plantations, beneath a broiling southern sun.—
Without planters there could be no cotton; without
cotton no wealth. Without them Mississippi would
be a wilderness, and revert to the aboriginal possessors.
Annihilate them to-morrow, and this state
and every southern state might be bought for a song.
and the southern states become at once comparative
ciphers in the Union. Northerners, particularly
Yankees, are at first a little compunctious on the
subject of holding slaves. They soon, however, illustrate
the truth contained in the following lines,
but slightly changed from their original application.
With half-averted eyes they at first view slavery as
That to be hated needs but to be seen:
But seen too oft, familiar with her face,
They soon endure—and in the end embrace.”
Many of the planters are northerners. When
they have conquered their prejudices, they become
thorough, driving planters, generally giving themselves
up to the pursuit more devotedly than the
regular-bred planter. Their treatment of their slaves
is also far more rigid. Northerners are entirely unaccustomed
to their habits, which are perfectly understood
and appreciated by southerners, who have
been familiar with Africans from childhood; whom
they have had for their nurses, play-fellows, and
“bearers,” and between whom and themselves a
reciprocal and very natural attachment exists, which,
on the gentleman's part, involuntarily extends to
the whole dingy race, exhibited in a kindly feeling
and condescending familiarity, for which he receives
gratitude in return. On the part of the slave, this
attachment is manifested by an affection and faithfulness
which only cease with life. Of this state
of feeling, which a southern life and education can
only give, the northerner knows nothing. Inexperience
over his novel subjects with an unsparing severity,
which the native ruler of these domestic colonies
finds wholly unnecessary. The slave always prefers
a southern master, because he knows that he will
be understood by him. His kindly feelings toward,
and sympathies with slaves, as such, are as honourable
to his heart as gratifying to the subjects of
them. He treats with suitable allowance those
peculiarities of their race, which the unpractised
northerner will construe into idleness, obstinacy,
laziness, revenge, or hatred. There is another
cause for their difference of treatment to their slaves.
The southerner, habituated to their presence, never
fears them, and laughs at the idea. It is the reverse
with the northerner: he fears them, and hopes
to intimidate them by severity.
The system of credit in this country is peculiar.
From new-year's to new-year's is the customary
extension of this accommodation, and the first of
January, as planters have then usually disposed of
their crops, is a season for a general settlement
throughout every branch of business. The planters
have their commission merchants in New-Orleans
and Natchez, who receive and ship their cotton for
them, and make advances, if required, upon succeeding
crops. Some planters export direct to Liverpool
and other ports, though generally they sell
or consign to the commission merchants in Natchez,
who turn cotton into gold so readily, that one verily
would be inclined to think that the philosopher's
stone might be concealed within the bales. A
an endorser—buys land and negroes, and, in the
strong phraseology of Crockett, “goes ahead.” In
a few years he becomes opulent. Others, however,
(as was the case with the old settlers especially)
and young men at the present time, with
little means, commence with a piece of wild land,
and five or six, or perhaps not more than two negroes—and
go on strengthening and increasing, adding
acre to acre, negro to negro, bale to bale, till
wealth crowns their labours. Many of the oldest
and wealthiest planters began in this manner, when
they had to dispute possession of the soil with the
Spaniard, the wild beast of the forest, or wilder Indian.
They are now reaping the rewards of their
youthful toil, in the possession of sons and daughters,
lands and influence, and all the luxuries and
enjoyments which wealth commands. Their sons,
more fortunate in their youth than their sires, receive,
from the paternal bounty, plantations and
negroes, and at once, without previous toil or care,
assume the condition of the refined and luxurious
planter. So you perceive that a Yankee farmer
and a southern planter are birds of a very different
feather.[4] Now in this sad, idolatrous world, where
Mammon is worshipped on millions of altars, the
certainly be “where men ought to worship.” If
the satirical maxim, “man was made to make money,”
is true, of which there can be no question—
the mint of his operations lies most temptingly between
the “Father of waters” and the arrowy
Pearl. And men seem to feel the truth of it—or of
the maxim of Bacon, that “territory newly acquired
and not settled, is a matter of burthen rather than
of strength;” for they are spreading over it like a
cloud, and occupying the vast tracts called “the
Purchase,” recently obtained from the Indians, previous
to their removal to the west. The tide of
emigration is rapidly setting to the north and east
portions of the state. Planters, who have exhausted
their old lands in this vicinity, are settling and
removing to these new lands, which will soon become
the richest cotton growing part of Mississippi.
Parents do not now think of settling their children
on plantations near Natchez, but purchase for them
in the upper part of the state. Small towns, with
“mighty names,” plucked from the ruins of some
long since mouldered city of classic fame and memory,
are springing up here and there, like mushrooms,
amidst the affrighted forests. Sixteen new
counties have lately been created in this portion of
the state, where so recently the Indian tracked his
game and shrieked his war-whoop; and as an agricultural
state, the strength and sinew of Mississippi
must be hereafter concentrated in this fresher and
younger portion of her territory.
The necessary properties of grasses suited to this climate differ
from those required in higher latitudes. They should have deep
running roots if erect, to withstand the scorching heat of the sun,
or their stems should lie prostrate and cover the ground. This is
the peculiarity of grasses in the West Indies and Egypt. The
grass peculiar to the last, and well adapted to this country—the
cynosurus ægyptus—grows in South Carolina and Georgia, and
is highly esteemed. Among the small variety of grasses cultivated
here, is the Washita winter grass, perennial, and the Natchez winter
grass, an annual. The latter is a phalaris, not known at the north.
It is a rich grass and very succulent. There is a variety of this
grass termed striped grass, cultivated in yards at the north, which is
unknown here, and which from its peculiar properties is excellent to
bind banks, and would be of great service on plantations where
there are bayous. The Bermuda grass has large succulent leaves
and runners, and is better adapted to this climate than any other.
Lucerne and esparcette have the same properties, but have never
been tried. The white clover of Kentucky, known by the name of
Buffalo clover, is also admirably adapted, upon the above principles,
to this soil and climate. Hay as an article of culture is unknown
here. White clover is abundant upon the commons. There are
several grasses peculiar to this country unknown at the north; but
they are never transplanted from the fields and woods, and are
scarcely known and never cultivated. There is properly but one
plant in the south, if planters are to draw up the botanical catalogue,
and that is the cotton plant!
I have lying before me a letter, bearing date July 1, 1806, from
a distinguished German botanist; in which, at the close of an article
upon the plants of this country, he inquires of Wm. Dunbar,
Esq. to whom the letter is addressed, “if the cotton plant has ever
been tried in Mississippi? It seems to promise much!” Mississippi
planters of the present day will certainly coincide with this gentleman
in his opinion.
| XXXII. The South-west | |