Virtuous, modest, sensitive, retiring, her only ambition to merit the love of her husband, her only pride to point to her children and say, "these are my jewels ;" worshipped in her sphere, her gentle sway undisputed, the white woman in the slave-holding States needs no conventions to give her, her rights. Whether she be the mistress of a mansion, or the humble tenant of a cabin, to her the seat of honour is ever accorded at home or abroad, every son of the south deems himself her champion. . . .

... Where negro slavery exists, money is not necessary to make the freeman; the white man takes rank by his colour; it is his patent of nobility, and until forfeited for dishonour, entitles him and commands for him all the privileges of his class.

Not so can it be, where "all the exterior of servitude" attaches to the nominal freeman: there of necessity money must distinguish the classes mark the master, separate him from the servant. There colour gives no privilege, but the white man and the white woman driven to "service," are excluded from the presence of their masters, dare not claim to be their equals. Where money gives honour, poverty is looked upon as disgrace. To those who envy the negro his position, we urge no argument; but to those who would see their race respected, fit to be free, we confidently appeal to reflect upon the difference which is thus effected in the condition of the white race. With all the pride and haughtiness attributed by the abolitionist to the slave-holder, we challenge a comparison of the rank in society held by the poor white man in the slave-holding, and non-slave-holding States. The northern mechanic, who has once put foot within the limits of a slave-holding State, has felt this vast difference, and can bear witness to it. The humble seamstress, the despised chambermaid, whose fortune has led her to the home of the slave-holder, has had cause to remember his courtesy to woman. Slave holders are proud of their colour, they can

not but respect it.

But the influence of negro-slavery on the future destiny of our Republic, is even more potent than its effects upon the character of those who compose the government. We have said that the preservation of our Republic in its purity, depends on the institution of slavery. . . .

Politically the pauper, and the man of wealth are equal: labour has thus the power of numbers; while on the other hand wealth has the power of money, the command of talent. The contest has ever proved unequal; the brute force of numbers may prevail for a time, it effects a

mere convulsion: Agrarian laws may be called for, a distribution of property demanded; in the end talent and wealth will conquer; and then, to protect itself, to guard against a like convulsion, strong laws will be enacted, a government of force be established. The scenes of the French revolution but illustrate the issue of this contest: Anarchy under the cry of "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," rules for a day, to be followed on the morrow by an Empire! . . .

Let the influx of foreign labourers continue, daily reducing the rate of wages; let, as is threatened, the prisons and poorhouses of Europe be emptied on us; let thus labour be consumed by its own strength, capital be thus still further monopolised by the few, until the thousand famished victims of excessive population cry out for bread, rise in the power of numbers and demand their "equal rights," their "equal share;" what then shall save the Republic from wreck? . . .

Upon the South, as upon the strong arm of a brother, so long as negro slavery exists, the North can rely; it will furnish materials to its workshops, a market for its manufactures; wealth to its capitalist, wages to the labourer. In the South no struggle between labour and capital can arise. Where slavery exists, capital and labour are one, for labour is capital. There the capitalist, instead of exhausting his labourer, must strengthen, protect and preserve him, for he is his money. The interest of the labourer and the capitalist, the slave and his master, are identical; they cannot conflict. The prosperity of the master is the happiness of the slave, for his condition is improved as his master prospers; the master prospers, as his slave is healthy, vigorous and happy.

To negro slavery is the South indebted for its unrivalled prosperity, its exemption from the fearful struggle of wealth and poverty; the happy equality in the condition of its people; its practical enjoyment of the full blessings of republican government.

Let abolitionists succeed, let slavery be abolished, the negroes turned loose the whites, driven from their homes, will seek a refuge among the crowded population of the North; or else the whites victorous in the conflict which would follow, the miserable negroes would fly to their professed friends; the northern labourer would find a ruinous competitor; the northern capitalist a fearful addition to the strength of his enemy. In either event the struggle would be hastened to an issue. The fall of the South would bring ruin on the North; the Republic would give place to Anarchy, to be followed by the rich man's rule, a despotism. B. F. Stringfellow, Negro-Slavery, no Evil (St. Louis, 1854), 9–35 passim.

27. A Good-Natured Slaveholder's View of Slavery

(1858)

BY EDWARD ALBERT POLLARD

Pollard is best known as a sprightly, prejudiced, and unscientific writer on the Civil War from the southern point of view. He was a journalist by profession and an extreme pro-slavery advocate. This extract is from letters originally addressed to David M. Clarkson, of New York. — Bibliography as in No. 23 above.

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ND here, dear C., let me meet an objection which has been eloquently urged against the proposition to import into this country slaves from Africa. It is said that our slave population has attained a wonderful stage of civilization; that they have greatly progressed in refinement and knowledge, and that it would be a great pity to introduce among them, from the wilds of Africa, a barbarous element which would have the effect of throwing back our Southern negroes into a more uncivilized and abject condition.

What is pleaded here as an objection I adopt as an argument on my side of the question—that is, in favor of the African commerce. What we want especially in the South, is that the negro shall be brought down from those false steps which he has been allowed to take in civilization, and reduced to his proper condition as a slave. I have mentioned to you, dear C., what an outrage upon the feelings of poor white men, and what a nuisance generally, the slave gentry of the South is. It is time that all these gentlemen of color should be reduced to the uniform level of the slave; and doubtless they would soon disappear in the contact and admixture of the rude African stock.

Most seriously do I say, dear C., that numbers of the negro slaves of the South display a refinement and an ease which do not suit their condition, and which contrast most repulsively with the hard necessities of many of the whites. I have often wished that the abolitionists, instead of hunting out among the swamps and in the raggedest parts of the South, some poor, exceptional victim to the brutality of a master, and parading such a case as an example of slavery, would occasionally show, as a picture of the institution, some of the slave gentry, who are to be found anywhere in the cities, towns, and on the large farms of the South, leading careless, lazy, and impudent lives, treating white freemen with superciliousness if they happen to be poor, and disporting themselves with airs of superiority or indifference before everybody who does not

happen to be their particular master. Pictures drawn as equally from this large class of our slave population, as from the more abject, would, I am sure, soon convert some of your Northern notions of the institution of slavery.

.. My blood boils when I recall how often I have seen some poor "cracker," dressed in striped cotton, and going through the streets of some of our Southern towns, gazing at the shop windows with scared curiosity, made sport of by the sleek, dandified negroes who lounge on the streets, never unmindful, however, to touch their hats to the "gem'men" who are "stiff in their heels," (i.e. have money); or to the counter-hoppers and fast young gents with red vests and illimitable jewelry, for whom they pimp. And consider that this poor, uncouth fellow, thus laughed at, scorned and degraded in the estimate of the slave, is a freeman, beneath whose humble garb is a heart richer than gold the heart of a mute hero, of one who wears the proud, though pauper, title of the patriot defender of the South.

I love the simple and unadulterated slave, with his geniality, his mirth, his swagger, and his nonsense; I love to look upon his countenance, shining with content and grease; I love to study his affectionate heart; I love to mark that peculiarity in him, which beneath all his buffoonery exhibits him as a creature of the tenderest sensibilities, mingling his joys and his sorrows with those of his master's home. . . . But the "genteel" slave, who is inoculated with white notions, affects superiority, and exchanges his simple and humble ignorance for insolent airs, is altogether another creature, and my especial abomination.

I have no horror, dear C., of imported savage slaves from Africa. I have no doubt that they would prove tractable, and that we would find in them, or would soon develop, the saine traits of courage, humor, and tenderness, which distinguish the character of the pure negro everywhere.

When I was last through the country here, I made the acquaintance of a very old "Guinea negro," Pompey by name, who had been imported at an early age from the African coast; and a livelier, betterdispositioned and happier old boy I have never met with. . . .

Pompey had married a "genteel" slavewoman, a maid to an old lady of one of the first families of Carolina, and lived very unhappily with his fine mate, because she could not understand "black folks' ways." It appears that Pompey frequently had recourse to the black art to inspire his wife with more affection for him; and having in his hearing

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dropped the remark, jokingly, one day, that a good whipping made a mistress love her lord the more, I was surprised to hear Pompey speak up suddenly, and with solemn emphasis, "Mass'r Ed'rd, I bleve dar is sumthin' in dat. When de 'ooman get ambitious" - he means highnotioned and passionate - "de debble is sot up against you, and no use to honey dat chile; you jest got to beat him out, and he bound to come out 'fore the breath come out, anyhow." I am inclined to recommend Pompey's treatment for all "ambitious" negroes, male or female. . . . with Pompey, as to what constitutes a useful and respectagree able negro, and tell him that we shall soon have some such from the country from which he came, at which prospect he is greatly pleased. "Ah, Mass'r," says he, "dat is de nigger dat can do your work; he de chile dat can follow arter the beast, like dis here," tugging away and gee-hawing while he speaks, at the hard mouth of a stupid mule, with which he is plowing in the garden. "But I tells you what, Mass'r Ed'rd," continues Pompey, impressively, "no matter how de dam proud black folks hold der head up, and don't love de mule, and don't love de work, and don't love nothing but de ownselves, I tells you what, I ain't but nigger nohow; and I tells you, and I tells 'em all, de nigger and de mule am de axle-tree of de world."

The truth is, my dear friend, we want more such slaves in the South as Pompey, who while they can speak such honest and brilliant sentiments, will also be as humble in their hearts and as faithful to their work as he, and who will sustain the car of progress over all obstacles in the path of Southern destiny. . . .

After a round of visits to others of "the kin," I at last find myself the guest of that most excellent and beloved old lady, Miss R.

...

I find the old, familiar, black faces about the house. Uncle Jeames, the dining-room servant, is an old, decayed family negro, wearing a roundabout, and remarkable for an unctuous bald head, unadorned by hat or cap. Miss R., who has known him since he was a boy, still addresses him by the name of "Jimboo." Uncle Jimboo has a good deal of slave-pride, and is anxious to appear to visitors as one of great dignity and consequence in household affairs. He is especially proud of his position as general conservator of the order and security of the household, and any interruption of his stilted dignity is very painful to him. Devoted to his mistress, he assumes the office of her protector. Having in one of his winter patrols, according to his account, been chased by some forgotten number of "black bars," and having valiantly