y as if it were one of the greatest blessings of
mankind. 'It's not,' said a hard, bad-looking fellow to me the other
day, 'it's not the interest of a man to use his slaves ill. It's damned
nonsense that you hear in England.'--I told him quietly that it was not
a man's interest to get drunk, or to steal, or to game, or to indulge in
any other vice, but he _did_ indulge in it for all that; that cruelty,
and the abuse of irresponsible power, were two of the bad passions of
human nature, with the gratification of which, considerations of
interest or of ruin, had nothing whatever to do; and that, while every
candid man must admit that even a slave might be happy enough with a
good master, all human beings knew that bad masters, cruel masters, and
masters who disgraced the form they bore, were matters of experience and
history, whose existence was as undisputed as that of slaves themselves.
He was a little taken aback by this, and asked me if I believed in the
Bible. Yes, I said, but if any man could prove to me that it sanctioned
slavery, I would place no further credence in it. 'Well then,' he said,
'by God, sir, the niggers must be kept down, and the whites have put
down the colored people wherever they have found them.' 'That's the
whole question,' said I. 'Yes, and by God,' says he, 'the British had
better not stand out on that point when Lord Ashburton comes over, for I
never felt so warlike as I do now,--and that's a fact.' I was obliged to
accept a public supper in this Richmond, and I saw plainly enough there
that the hatred which these Southern States bear to us as a nation has
been fanned up and revived again by this Creole business, and can
scarcely be exaggerated.
. . . . "We were desperately tired at Richmond, as we went to a great many
places and received a very great number of visitors. We appoint usually
two hours in every day for this latter purpose, and have our room so
full at that period that it is difficult to move or breathe. Before we
left Richmond, a gentleman told me, when I really was so exhausted that
I could hardly stand, that 'three people of great fashion' were much
offended by having been told, when they called last evening, that I was
tired and not visible, then, but would be 'at home' from twelve to two
next day! Another gentleman (no doubt of great fashion also) sent a
letter to me two hours after I had gone to bed, preparatory to rising at
four next morning, with instructions to the slave
|