: JEFF.DAVISJNOT WITHOUT A^OUN
Vlfls — • TRY NOW.
The Southern Chieftetn now with Lee
and Jackson Again.
Contented from Frees Repeats.
• Something there wee to touch: the
hearts of all men even the brief tel
XT egrapbic announcement, a few hours
since, that at 10,45 a. m. on the 6th
insi, Jeffbbson Davis, ex-Presi
dent of the< Southern Confederacy,
had been taken away from the rev
/; erent homage and warm ejections
Of a whole people, dying in the arms
of “life-long friends,”
The Southern press needs bnt
* scant biography for its tribute to so
Illustrious a life and character—for
, the history of this man was the bis
V < tory of his country for more than
H half a century, fraught with events
. which shaped the destines of a na
tion, and arrested the attention of
■ the Whole one lightened Worlld
When aidant passed across the stage.
A cursory mention will suffiue
tor his birth in Christian county,
Ky., bis removal at an early age to
Mississippi (then a territory), his
graduation from the. West Point
Academy at the age of twenty years
with R. E, Lee, Joseph E. and Al
hert Sydney Johnston, John B.
Magrnd?r and other subsequently
distinguished Confederate leaders fts
class-mates, and his service in the
Black Hawk and other Indian wars
of that period. His early man hood
was not wanting in the qualities
which rendered him conspieious as a
■ military leader in after years, and in
; vested his name with a lmlo of re
- nown from the field of battle as
“ splendid'as were his triumphs in
/ . . jthe forum and the councilhalls of
■. the nation. The captive and un
chained savage, Black Hawk, saw
and recognized with all the warmth
' of his barbaric nature, something of
the winning grace and power to
command in the gallant young lieu
tenant whieh afterwards gave, easy
.leadership' among men to the ■ patri
ot, statement and-sage.
Resigning his commission in the
, army, Mr, Davis devoted the priod
from 1835 to the care and manage
of his estates near Vicksburg, Miss.;
' and, as if with presceince of the
consecration of his life to his coun
■, try, and of the greatness to be
thrust upon him, his clear mind, ex
t ~ traordinary abilities and varied ac
qnereinents reigned throughout those
eight years in the kingdom of books
and grand thoughts, that at the
■world's summons he might come
forth master of that theory, and
those principles of free constitution
al government of which he was the
most powerful and consistent ex
ij ’ ponent of his time—standing in \fie
• arena of State and Notional politics
at the early age of 85 years, a gladi
ator full-armed and panoplied, even
V os Minerva, radiant in helmet and
shield, burst from the brow of Jove.
There were no intellectual pig
, mies on the stage of that day from
'tirhom the great Southern’s ambi
" lion was to wrest laurels, but the
majesty of his presence captured
popular admiration, while the vig
or of his intellect and the forco of
his character fitted him for an exal
sHr ted place in a party not then too
stong to disdain accessions; and al
most at a bound he became the peer
of Prentiss, Foote, Thompson,
«. Brown and others whose name be
came sedpnd only to his in the matu
rity of their distinguished careers.
Jefferson Daris entered political
life at a time when the demands
\ made upon public men rendered po
litical life no sinecure. The Presi
dential contest of 1844, while per
haps not so thoroughly infused with
** an all* pervading sentiment as the
•v , ‘‘Log Cabin” campaign of 1840, was
f fight to the death between the
two great partios dividing popular
suffrage at that lime. As elector
- on the national Democratic ticket
v' ; 'his servicer were inestimable and
•/h-r' his ability conspicuous; and, while
ns indifierent as any mau living of
the cheap effects to be gaiuert from
epeeoli-tn.ikmg ami rhetorioal dut
playrhis-eloquence—grand in its
simplicity, all convincing in the
vigor and tearseness of its language
and style, irresistible, in its depth
and fervor of feeling—moved and
thrilled as never before a people not
unused to a display of wonderful
gifts of oratory.
The limits of a newspaper article
render it impossible to (race the
illustrious'career, do justice to 'the
distinguished services and deliniate
the matchless character of Jefferson
Davis. Gladstone—“The Grand Old
Man,” a friend of cohstiutional lib
erty as devoted, as self-sacrificing,
as eloquent, as was the great Con
federate chieftain whose mortal re
mains now lie in state amidst a sor
rowing people—has said of him that
“he created a nation;” the comrades
who followed his flashing sword,
whose pulses lept at the thrilling
tones of his clarion voice, tell of his
saying an army by the valor of a
PrinceJtupert and the genius of
Marleborhuglr—when, laying aside
the toga of a legislator, he put
himself at the head of his immortal
band of Mississippi Rifiles, and over
the blood-bought fields of ; Leneria,
Diabola and Monterey, he - pressed
on 10 neuna v ista ana tne. acmeve
ment of a victory, surpassing which
history offers nothing in the records
of Spartan courage, the mighty val
or Borne in its pristine glory, the
long Anglo, Saxon triumphs, the
brilliant campaign of the French
Republic and First Empire—nay,
nothing from Manaaaes to Appo
mattox, clothing, as that four years’
of struggle did, the army of Nor
thern Virginia with inseparable
glory. With the invincible brave
ry ofa Paladin, of which his Mis
sissippi Riflles caught the generous
enthusiasm, and became, eaeh indi
vidual soldier, a hfero, he threw his
command against the flower of the
Mexican army, and by and by hn
by an exhibition of military genius
not unworthy of Frederick the
Great, Turenne, Napoleon or Lee,
routed and dispersed the most gal
lant and best appointed forces of
Santa Anna. Beuna Vista is Mis
sissippi's monument, enduring an
perennial brass—every block of her
historic shaft cemented with the
blood of her sons. , v
ne was appointed oy me gover
nor of Mississippi to fill a vacancy
in the Uwived States Senate in Au
gust 1847, and in January 1848, the
Legislature unanimously elected
him Senator, and re-elected him in
1850 for a full term. He was made
chairman of the Senate Committee
on Military Affairs, and here, as in
the House, was active in the discus
sions on the various phases of the
slavery question and the important
work of the sessions, including the
fugitive slave law and other com
promise measures of 1850. Mr.
Davis proposed the extension of the
Missouri compromise line to the
Pacific, and continued a zealous ad
vocate of States’ rights. He was
the unsuccessful States-rights or
’’resistance” candidate for the Gov
ernor of his State in 1851, though
by his personal popularity he redu
ced the Union majority from 7,500
to 000. He had resigned his seat in
the' Senate to take part in the can
vass, and after a year of retirement
actively supported Franklin Pierce
in the ^Presidential contest of 1852.
Mr; Davis left the Cabinet at the
e.iqse of President Pierce’p term in
1857 imd in the same year entered
the Senate again. He opposed the
French spoliation bill, advocated the
Southern route for for the Pacific
Railroad, and opposed the doctrine
of ‘popular sovereignty’ often en
countering Stephen A. Douglass in
debate on this question. After the
settlement of the Knnsas contest by
the passage of the Kansas confer
ence bill, in which he had taken a
chief part, he wrote to the people-of
his State that it was “the triumph
for which we contended." Mr, Da
vis was a recognized Democratic
leader in the 80th Congress. He
made a tour of the Eastern States
in 1858, making speeches at Boston,
Portland, Me., Hew York, and oth
er places, and in 1850 in a reply to
an invitation to attend the Web
ster birthday ' festival fn Boston
wrote a letter denouncing “partisans
who avow the purpose of oblitera
ting the land marks of our fathers,”
and containing strong Union senti
ments. He bad been frequently
mentioned as Democratic candidate
[for the. Presidency, and received
i .• V.' .**>< -• • f * > •
many votes in the convention oi
1800, though his friends announced
that he did not desire the nomina
tion. Before Congress met in the
autumn of 1800 Mr. Davis was sum
moned to Washington by members
of President Buchanan’s Cabinet tc
suggest some modification of the
forthcoming message to Congress.
The suggestions were maoe and
were adopted.
Mississippi seceded on January
9th, and on January 24th, having
been officially informed of the fact,
Mr, Davis withdrew from the Sen
ate and went to his ’ home, having
taken leave of his associates in
a speech in which he defended the
cause of the South, and f begged
pardon of all whom he had ’offend
ed. -
Before he reached home he had
been appointed by the convention
commander-in chief of the army of
Mississippi, with the rank of major
feneral; bat on February 18, 1861,
e exchanged his office tor that of
President of the Confederate States,
to which the Provisional Congress
at Montgomery had eldbted him on
the 9th of February.' He selected
for his Cabinet Robert Toombs, of
Georgia, as, Secretary of State; Leroy
P. Walker, of Alabama, Secretary
! of War; Charles G. Memminger, of
South Carolina, Secretary of the
; Treasury ; Stephen R. Mallory, of
Florida, Secretary of the Navy; Ju
dah P. Benjamin, of Lonsiana, .At
torney-General, and John H. Bom,
of Texas, Postmaster-General. The
last three continued in the Cabinet
as long as the Confederate Govern
ment maintained its existence.
Toombs, Walker and Memminger
were succeeded by others.”
xu uo w»c icub ycuts ui ueuerson
Davis are the greatest of his long
and honored life. History often
fashions heroes out of very common
mould and the' adulation, of the
chronicler, the plaudits of the world
and the most generous needs to
human greatness are frequently be
stowed upon him who comes- laden
with the trophies of success. " As a
lawmaker and statesman', he has
left to his people some of the ablest
papers on the great questions of
constitutional law and government
to be found in the literature of hk
country.' On the floor of the Sen
ate he measured swords with the in
tellectual Titans of his day, and
maintained his. supremacy; Bear
ing the banner of a> Southern Crass,
he was the “creator of a nation,”
the story of whose exploits will fill
men’s hears as long as time itself.
THE SHAME OF AMERICA,
When Mr. Davit was Shackled at Fort
ress Monroe.
The scene is thus described by Dr,
J. J. Craven, the Federal Burgeon
of the Post, in his “Prison’' Life of
Jefferson Davis,” published at the
time. The account is probably true
in its chief outline:
“On the morning of the 22d of
May a yet bitterer, triaf was in store
for the proud spirit—a trial severer,
probably, than has ever in modern
times been inflicted upon any one
who has ever .enjoyed such emi
nence; This morning Jefferson
Davis was shackeled.
It was while all the swarming
camps of the army of the Potomac,
the Tennessee and Georgia—over
200,000 bronzed and laurelod veter
ans—were preparing £or the grand
review Of next morning, in which
passing in endless succession, before
the mansion of the President. the
conquering military power of the
nation was to lay down its arms at
the feet of the civil authority, that
the following scene was enacted at
Fort Monroe:
Captain Jerome E. Titlow, of the
Third Pennsylvania artillery, enter
ed the prisoner’s cell, followed by
the blacksmith of the fort and his
assistant, the latter carrying in his
hand some heavy and harshly rat
tling shackles. As they entered Mr.
Davis was reclining on on his bed,
feverish and weary after a sleepless
night, the food placed near to him
the preceding day still lying un
touched in its tin plate near, his
‘Well?’said Mr. Davis,' as they
entered, slightly raising his head,
‘I have an unpleasant duty to per
form, sir,’ said Captain Titlow; and
as he spoke the senior blacksmith
took the sliackks from his assistant,
Davis leaped instantly tc his
recumbent attitude, a flush passing
over his fuce for a moment, toic
thbh his countenance growing livid
and rigid as death, -* ——
•.£' ."V:. • r'-'
He grasped for breath, clutching
his throat with the thib fingers of
his right hand, and then recovering
himself -slowly, while his wasted
figure towered up to its fall height
—now appearing to swell with in
dignation and then to shrink with
terror as he glanced from the Cap
tain's face to the shackles—he said
slowly and with a laboring chest:
‘Mv God! Yon cannot hare been
sent nere to. iron me?”
‘Such are my orders, sir,’ replied
the officer,* beckoning the black
smith to approach, who stepped for
ward, unlocking the padlock and
preparing the fetters to do their of
fice. These fetters were of heavy
iron, probably five-eights of an ineh
in thickness, and connected togeth
er by a chain of like’weight. I be
lieve they are now in the possession
of Major-General Miles, and will
form an interesting relic.' * /.
‘This is too monstrous,* groaned
the prisoner; glancing .hurriedly
round the room, as if for some wea
pon or means of self destruction. ‘I
demand, captain, that yoii let me
see the commanding officer. Can
he pretendthat such shackles are
required to secure the safe custody
of a.weak old man so guarded ana
in a fort as this?’
‘It Could serve no purpose,’ replied
Captain Tittow; ‘his orders are from
Washington, as mine are from him.’
‘But he can telegraph,’ interposed
Mr. Davis,: eagerly; ‘there must be
some mistake. No such outrage as
you threaten me with is on record
m the history of nations. Beg him
to telegraph, and delay anti! he an
swers.’ ’ .. ~':tt
JM.J orders are peremptory, said
the officer, ‘and admit of no delay.
For your own sake, let me advise
yon to submit with patience. As a
soldier* Mr, Davis, you know I must
obey orders.’
. ’These are not orders for a sol
dier,1' shouted the prisoner losing all
control of himself, ‘They ere or
ders forJa jailor—for a hangman,
which no, soldier wearing a sword
should’accept! I tell yon the world
will nng with this disgrace. The
war is over; the South is conquered.
I have no longer any country but
America, and it is for the honor of
America, as for my own honor and
life, that I plead against this degra
dation. Kill me, kill me’ he pried
passionately, throwing his arms
wide open and exposing his breast*
rather than inflict on me, and on
my people, through me, this insult,
worse than death.
‘Do your duty, Blacksmith,’ said
the office!-, walking toward the em
breasure as if not caring to witness
the performance, ‘It only gives in
creased pain on all of us to protract
this interview,’
At these Winds the blacksmith
advanced with the shackles, and
seeing that the prisoner had one
foot upon the chair near his bedside,
his right hand resting on the back
of it, the brawny incjnanic made an
effort jo slip one of the shackles
over the anxle so raised, but as if
with vehemence and strengh which
frenzy can impart even the weakest
invalid, Mr. Davis suddenly seized
liis assailant and hurled him half
way across the room.
un tuis captain litiow turned
and seeing that Davis had backed
against the wall for further resis
tance, began to remonstrate, point
ini’ out in brief, clear language, that
this course was madness, and orders
must be enforced at any cost. ‘Why
compel me,’ he said, ‘to add the fur
indignation of persrnal violence to
the necessity or your being ironed.’
‘I am a prisoner of war, fiercely
retorted Davis; ‘I have been a sol
dier in the armies of America, and
know how to die. Only kill me and
my latest breath shall be a blessing
an your head. But while I have
life and strength to resist for myself
and my people, this thing shall not
be done.
Hereupon Capt. Titlow called in
a sergeant and file of soldiers from
the next room, and the sergeant ad
vanced to seize the prisoner. Imme
diately Mr. Davis flew on him, seiz
ed his musket and attempted to
wrench it from his grasp.
Of course such a scene could have
but one issue. There was a short
passionate scuffile. In a moment
Mr. Davis was flung upon his bed,
and before his four powerful assial
lants removed their hands from him,
the blacksmith and his assistant had
done their work—one securing the
rivet on the right anjcls, while the
other turned the key in the lock on
the left.
This done, Mr. Davis lav for a
moment as if in stupor. Then slow
raising himself and turning round,
be droped his shackled feet to the
floor. The harsh clank of thestrik
ing chain seemed first to have recalls
ed him to his situation, * * and
he,muttered at brief intervals: ‘Ob,
d>he shame, the shame? r
MR. DAVIS'S REMINISCENSjfS. t
He was in the Senate with Webster,
Claiy and Calhoun.—His Estimate
of tee, Jackson and Johnston.
_ “I had peculiarly intimate rela
tions with Clay, Calhoun and Web
ster. I went to school in Lexing
ton, Ky., Mr. Clay’s town. His
favorite son, who was named Henry,
was killed while with mein Mexico,
and he always associated me. with
that boy, Mr. Calhoun gave me
my first warrant to West Point,
and, by a singular concidenee, when
I went to the Senate my seat was
by his side, and he always seemed to
taken fatherly supervision over me.
While in the House I had been upon
a committee charged with investi
fating the State Department nnder
[r. Webster's administration. He
had been charged with misappro
priating some of the Secret Service
funds, but the investigation showed
that he had simply used it.to prevent
the introduction of the Ashburton
Treaty into the politics of Vue State
of Maine. • I drew and chapioned
the report which exonerated him.
Mr. Webster never forgot that act.
He was the most grateful man for
| any act of kindness or interest in
him that I ever knew. He was a
great orator, but not in the sense in
which Mr. Clay was. Mr. Clay pos
sessed the grace of oratory tp a great
er extent than any man .that evfer
lived in this country. His gestures,
his manners and his speech were per
fect. Mr, Calhoun hod none of the
graces of oratory, but did I have a
laf liucm. ana nis
pronunciation was wretched. Bat
no orator pf the present day could
influence the people or have the po
sition that these men had in those
days. The newspapers have taken
the place ot the speaker, and,a great
er engine than the newspapers has
superseded the orator—that is, the
telegraph. People want hews and
information, and want it in para
graphs. They will hardly stand
much more Ursula paragraph of ed
itorial, and rebel at any thing like an
essay.
Speaking of the men andl measures
just before the war, he said:
“Mr. Buchanan was an able man,
but a very timid one. If he had
had the nerve to deal with the situ,
ation as its'gravity demanded, 1
doubt exceedingly whether any other
State South would have followed
South Carolina into secession. Had
he withdrawn the troops from Sum
ter, it would have been such a con
spicuous smt of conciliation that the
other States would not, I believe,
have calledconventions to consider
the question.of secession, or if they
had the ordinances would not have
been passed. I was not one of those
who believed that there could ever
be a peaceful separation of the
States, but could not convince our
people of it. I had years before be
come convinced by my association
with public men, and specially with
Mr. Webster, that the North would
never consent to it.' I knew that
: secession meant war, and, therefore
did my utmost to prevent it. When
the war came, however, it had to be
I met with spirit. The. chance fora
peaeeful separation of the States
was lost years before the war. It
could have succeeded • when the
North Wanted to go, and again
whhn Texas was annexed, hut not
after.’"
• • sit n . - v a •
ui uto ucuciuia, 11c »uiu.
“Albert Sidney Johnston was the
most perfect man I ever knew. He
hud divided his life between milita
ry and civil pursuits,' and shown
wonderfuLifiupacity in both. He
had such a grand character, such i
perfect self poise, such an analytical
mind, such ready conception of men
marvellous quicknes of perceptions
and ability to deal with events. 1
never before, saw a single individual
having so many sterling qualities.
I had Known him intimately many
years. General Lee apd myself
were cadets at West Point together
but Albert Sidney Johnston and I
hod been much together in active
life, iu the field, in bivouac, anttin
private intercourse. Early in our
association I was struck with his
marvelous quickness of perception
and perfect command of himself._
AT THB 80BBKNDJSB OF MOHTKBEY.
“We were together, in Mexico one
morning when both ’thought our
lives not worth a fig. I was the of
ficer selected to arrange the terms for
the surrender of Monterey, and had
spent several hours with General
Ampndia, the Mexican Comman
ding General arranging the terpis.
It was getting quite late and there
was suspicious delay in signing the
papers. I said to General Arupti
dia, ‘Have the articles signed and I
will call for them in the morning.’
I arose early the next day, had my
horse saddled, took a cup of coffee
and started for the Headquarters of
the Mexican General, in the city of
Monterey. As I passed the Head
quarters of general TayIor} who al
ways got up . with the chickens, he
he stuck Ins head out of the tent to
see who Was passing and seeing me
said;-. ■ .' ■
“‘Hallo, Davis! Where are ytro.
going?
“‘I am going to General Ampudia
to receive the terms of surrender,
which he was to have signed and
ready for me this morning.’
. “ ‘Not by yourself.’
“ ‘One man is as good as twenty.
If. they mean foul.play, they would
destroy twenty as well as one, and
if there is danger nothing but an ar
my will do.’
• “ ‘Get down and have a cup of
coffee, and wait a few moments.'
“I alighted and went in, and while
we were talking Colonel Albert Sid
ney Johnston, whOjWas then acting
Inspector General, came along. He
asked me where I was .going, and 1
gave him the s-’me reply that I
gave General Taylor.
“‘Let me go with yon?. *
—“‘Cerlaiulyp I shall be glad to
have yon.’ .. . ... .
“After our coffee Johnston and I
started. When we reached the streets
We found them stockaded, and only
room for one horse to pass between
the stockade and the buildings.
Artillery was guarding the entrance
and the men stood at their guns
With port-fires open. The tops of
the houses, which- were flat, were
also covered with infantrymen stan
ding at their guns. The whole
keens had an oiEiiiuus look, and as
we approached Johnston called my
attention to it, and said:
'Have you' a
chief? If so, too
it’
white handker
hqd better show
, “I- pulled one out and rode up to
the stockade, and, summoning the
officer in the command, said:
‘“I am here by appointed with
Ampudia. Please to notify him of
my presence.’
“The offiecer turned his back to ns
and gave some orders, which I did not
understand, and we waited some
time,and things began to look still
more suspicious. I then called the
officer’s attention again to the im
portance of our mission, and anoth
er man was sent, and then another
delay, and a third was dispatched.
While waiting we saw Ampudia’s
Adjutant-General coming down the
street. We knew that he spoke
English. Johnston, in a very low
tone of voice, said:
“ ‘This man cannot affect not to
understand us.’
“As he came up we saluted, and
explained to him that I was there in
obedience to an understanding with
his commanding officer, and there
appeared some delay, and I express
ed a wish that he would have us
conducted' to General Ampudia’s
presence. ;
“ ‘Oh, certainly,’ said he, and he
calling an orderly to show us tha
way. Johnston in an undertone
said:
“He had better do the conduct
in at.” _ ■
“ ‘I would be obliged if you would
accompany us to the General's pres
ence yourself,’ said I.
“*0h, with pleasure, with pleas
ure,’ he replied, and lead the'way.
“As we turned and passed through
the stockade, Johnston took one
side of the Adjutant-General, and I
the other, and we were soon with
the Mexican general, and had the
papers relating to the captulation in
our hands. .
“On our return, in jumping the
ditch the flab to my holster flew up
and I informed that my pistol had
been stolen by his orderly while I
was with the Mexican General. It
was a very valuable one, although a
very plain one. It had been given to
me. by Colonel Johnston, my com
panion during the Black Hawk war
and I prized it highly.
COMPLIMKimirO KX-OONPEDRRATB OP?
PICER8. .
“Albert Sidney Johnston was
doubtless the most perfect soldier
of the War on either side. The battle
of Shiloh is the only battle of whioh
I have any knowledge that was
fought just as it was planned. He
sent me a dispatch, which has been
lost or destroyed, giving the plan of
his battle, and if it bad not been for
a delay in some of his troops coming
up, every incident of his plan would
hnve been carried out and each mov
ment would have fitted in like clock?
works."
“Stonewall Jackson was the
greatest evocative officer of tho Con
federacy. General Lee uttered a
great truth, and from his heart,
when he said, upon hearing of Jack
son’s death: *1 have lost my right
arm.’ Lee was a great, soldier
and a great man. Most people
mistake hiuL character. He had the
reputation of being a slow, careful
cautious manj bat he wye one of the
most combative men I ever. kuew.
He was always willing to fight. At
times he was even impetuous, espec
ially in the lace of disater. He
would often rush into places, and
dangers where he did not belong, ,
and many times showed his dispo
sition to be an executive leader, rath-v ‘
er. than the controlling mind of a
great army.'' He ' wag one of the
purest men 1 ever knewa man in
capable of subterfuge, evasion, da- ■
ceit or indirection. He won ana held
deservedly a high place as a man
and a soldier at home and abroad.
When Jackson lived, he was Lee’s ;
dependence. He recognized Jackson’s
ability as an executive offioer, antj
trusted him implicitly when he gavg
him hia plans. Jackson never wait
ed for orders a second time, nor sent
back for instructions. After the
battle of Gettysburg Lee wrote to me A
that he had met with a reverse, and
abler man to take his place. I re
plied that if I could find a‘younger
and abler nian’ I might desire to
make the change, but as I had sa
much'more confidence in him than - .
in any other man I knew, I would :
not consider it. We had many oth
er strong Generals, but these were
our great leaders.” ■
THE CONDITION OP THE SOUTH.
Mr. Davis once talked "to me long
and earnestly on the condition of ;
the South. Among "'many other
things, he said: r : " ’ ,
asked me to find some
ii me do util can establish ft
system of tenantry or get iinmign^' !
toon to occupy and-tili its lands there
is no question but that it has a great ■
future. Whether the colored people
will ever reach that point is a ques
tibn yet to be settled. Man is nqw
in a struggle with nature upon there
problems. There is no question but
that the whites are better off for
the abolition of slavery. It is an
equally patent fact that the colored
people are not. It is an arithmeti
cal proposition easily determined i
that it is more profitable to proceed t„ i
with free labor; where only the hand
employed is to be paid, than where
the whole family ia to be supported
to get the labor of those, competent
to work. Then there is also a ear
ing in capital. Before the War, ‘ j
when a colored man died, the owner
lost from $1,000 to $1,500. Now he
loses nothing, except, perhaps, the '
cost of burial. If the colored peo
ple shall develop a proper degree of
thrift, and get a degree of education ~
to keep pace with any advancement
they may make, they may become a : >
tenantry which will enable the South
to rebuild the waste places and be- .
come immensely wealthy; : ’
“Negroes become greatly attached
to localities, and most of them lore
to remain where they were raised.
Almost all of our old servants are t
yet on the old plantation near
Vicksburg* The colored people have
many good traits, and many of them
are religious. Indeed, the 4,000,000 S
in the South when the War began
were Chistianized from barbarism, i;
In that respect the South has been .
a greater practical m issionary than ,
all,the society missionaries in the
world. T had an old man, who, for
the colored people in our section,
was as complete a ruler as was ever
born. He was as free from guile
and as truthful a man as I ever
anew, a no reuerai iorces treated —v
the old man with great indignity.
He was a very superior servant, and
his quarters where he lived were fit
ted up with taste, some people might >'
say with luxury. He had everything
about him for his comfort, ana
when the so}diers came and looked
into his neat and well-furnished
cabin they asked him who those
things belonged to. *To me,’ he $
answered. They denounced him as
untruthful, and' said that he had
taken those things to keep for his
master, and tools them away from ■'<%
him. . / ’’
“Nothing that was ever done to
me,” said Mr. Davis, “made me so
indignant as the treatment of this
;«W. colored man.”
“War was not necessary to the
abolition of slavery,” continued Mr,
Davis. “Years before the agitation
began at the North and the mena
cing acts to the institution there was
a growing fueliug all over the South
fpr its abolitiou. But the aboli
tionists of the North, both in publi
cations und in speech, cemented
the South and crushed the feeling in
.favor of emancipation. Slavery
could have been blotted out without
the sacrifice of brave men and with
out the strain whieh revolution al* ‘
ways makes upon established forms _
of government. I see it stated that
I uttered the sentiment, or indorsed .
it, that,‘Slavery is the cornerstone *
of the Confederacy.” That is not .,
my utterance. :
His day is done, and his dlsscus
sum of the mighty problems of this -r.
Republic are over. Hi* estimate of ”
men is interesting, as it fixe* hi* ve- H'
lotions with those who played in the—-*i
same mighty game with him. v