Chapter 15

LABORS ON SUGAR PLANTATIONS—THE MODE OF PLANTING CANE—OF HOEING CANE—CANE RICKS—CUTTING CANE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CANE KNIFE—WINROWING—PREPARING FOR SUCCEEDING CROPS—DESCRIPTION OF HAWKINS' SUGAR MILL ON BAYOU BŒUF—THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS—THE CARNIVAL SEASON OF THE CHILDREN OF BONDAGE—THE CHRISTMAS SUPPER—RED, THE FAVORITE COLOR—THE VIOLIN, AND THE CONSOLATION IT AFFORDED—THE CHRISTMAS DANCE—LIVELY, THE COQUETTE—SAM ROBERTS, AND HIS RIVALS—SLAVE SONGS—SOUTHERN LIFE AS IT IS—THREE DAYS IN THE YEAR—THE SYSTEM OF MARRIAGE—UNCLE ABRAM'S CONTEMPT OF MATRIMONY.

WORK ON SUGAR PLANTATIONS. HOW CANE IS PLANTED AND HOED. CANE RICKS. CUTTING CANE. DESCRIPTION OF THE CANE KNIFE. ARRANGING CANE IN ROWS. PREPARING FOR FUTURE CROPS. DESCRIPTION OF HAWKINS' SUGAR MILL ON BAYOU BŒUF. THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. THE CARNIVAL SEASON FOR THE CHILDREN OF BONDAGE. CHRISTMAS SUPPER. RED, THE FAVORITE COLOR. THE VIOLIN AND THE COMFORT IT BROUGHT. THE CHRISTMAS DANCE. LIVELY, THE COQUETTE. SAM ROBERTS AND HIS RIVALS. SLAVE SONGS. SOUTHERN LIFE AS IT IS. THREE DAYS IN THE YEAR. THE SYSTEM OF MARRIAGE. UNCLE ABRAM'S CONTEMPT FOR MARRIAGE.

In consequence of my inability in cotton-picking, Epps was in the habit of hiring me out on sugar plantations during the season of cane-cutting and sugar-making. He received for my services a dollar a day, with the money supplying my place on his cotton plantation. Cutting cane was an employment that suited me, and for three successive years I held the lead row at Hawkins', leading a gang of from fifty to an hundred hands.

Because I was not good at picking cotton, Epps often hired me out to sugar plantations during cane-cutting and sugar-making season. He received a dollar a day for my work and used the money to pay someone to take my place on his cotton plantation. Cutting cane suited me. For three years in a row, I worked the lead row at Hawkins', leading a crew of fifty to a hundred workers.

In a previous chapter the mode of cultivating cotton is described. This may be the proper place to speak of the manner of cultivating cane.

In a previous chapter, I described how cotton is grown. This may be a good place to explain how cane is grown.

The ground is prepared in beds, the same as it is prepared for the reception of the cotton seed, except it is ploughed deeper. Drills are made in the same manner. Planting commences in January, and continues until April. It is necessary to plant a sugar field only once in three years. Three crops are taken before the seed or plant is exhausted.

The ground is prepared in beds, just as it is for cotton seed, but it is plowed deeper. Furrows are made in the same way. Planting begins in January and continues until April. A sugar field needs to be planted only once every three years. Three crops are harvested before the seed or plant is exhausted.

Three gangs are employed in the operation. One draws the cane from the rick, or stack, cutting the top and flags from the stalk, leaving only that part which is sound and healthy. Each joint of the cane has an eye, like the eye of a potato, which sends forth a sprout when buried in the soil. Another gang lays the cane in the drill, placing two stalks side by side in such manner that joints will occur once in four or six inches. The third gang follows with hoes, drawing earth upon the stalks, and covering them to the depth, of three inches.

Three gangs do the work. One takes the cane from the stack and cuts the tops and leaves from the stalks. This leaves only the sound, healthy parts. Each joint of the cane has an eye, like the eye of a potato. The eye sends out a sprout when buried in the soil. Another gang lays the cane in the planting furrow. They place two stalks side by side so that a joint occurs every four to six inches. The third gang follows with hoes, pulling soil over the stalks to cover them three inches deep.

In four weeks, at the farthest, the sprouts appear above the ground, and from this time forward grow with great rapidity. A sugar field is hoed three times, the same as cotton, save that a greater quantity of earth is drawn to the roots. By the first of August hoeing is usually over. About the middle of September, whatever is required for seed is cut and stacked in ricks, as they are termed. In October it is ready for the mill or sugar-house, and then the general cutting begins. The blade of a cane-knife is fifteen inches long, three inches wide in the middle, and tapering towards the point and handle. The blade is thin, and in order to be at all serviceable must be kept very sharp. Every third hand takes the lead of two others, one of whom is on each side of him. The lead hand, in the first place, with a blow of his knife shears the flags from the stalk. He next cuts off the top down as far as it is green. He must be careful to sever all the green from the ripe part, inasmuch as the juice of the former sours the molasses, and renders it unsalable. Then he severs the stalk at the root, and lays it directly behind him. His right and left hand companions lay their stalks, when cut in the same manner, upon his. To every three hands there is a cart, which follows, and the stalks are thrown into it by the younger slaves, when it is drawn to the sugar-house and ground.

Within four weeks at most, the sprouts appear above the ground. From then on, they grow very quickly. A sugar field is hoed three times, just like a cotton field, except that more soil is drawn around the roots. Hoeing is usually finished by the first of August. Around the middle of September, the cane needed for seed is cut and stacked in piles called ricks. In October, the cane is ready for the mill or sugar-house, and the general cutting begins. A cane-knife has a blade fifteen inches long and three inches wide in the middle. It narrows toward the point and the handle. The blade is thin and must be kept very sharp to be of any use. The workers cut in groups of three, with one leading and the others on either side. First, the lead worker cuts the leaves from the stalk with a blow of his knife. Next, he cuts off the top, removing all the green part. He must be careful to separate all the green cane from the ripe part. The juice from the green cane sours the molasses and makes it impossible to sell. Then he cuts the stalk at the root and lays it directly behind him. His companions on either side cut their stalks in the same way and lay them on his. A cart follows each group of three workers. The younger slaves throw the stalks into it, and the cart is drawn to the sugar-house, where the cane is ground.

If the planter apprehends a frost, the cane is winrowed. Winrowing is the cutting the stalks at an early period and throwing them lengthwise in the water furrow in such a manner that the tops will cover the butts of the stalks. They will remain in this condition three weeks or a month without souring, and secure from frost. When the proper time arrives, they are taken up, trimmed and carted to the sugar-house.

If the planter expects a frost, the cane is winrowed. Winrowing means cutting the stalks early and laying them lengthwise in the water furrow. The tops are laid over the cut ends of the stalks. The cane can remain this way for three weeks or a month without souring, protected from frost. When the time comes, the stalks are picked up, trimmed, and carted to the sugar-house.

In the month of January the slaves enter the field again to prepare for another crop. The ground is now strewn with the tops, and flags cut from the past year's cane. On a dry day fire is set to this combustible refuse, which sweeps over the field, leaving it bare and clean, and ready for the hoes. The earth is loosened about the roots of the old stubble, and in process of time another crop springs up from the last year's seed. It is the same the year following; but the third year the seed has exhausted its strength, and the field must be ploughed and planted again. The second year the cane is sweeter and yields more than the first, and the third year more than the second.

In January, the slaves return to the fields to prepare for another crop. The ground is covered with tops and leaves cut from the previous year’s cane. On a dry day, this dry waste is set on fire. The fire sweeps across the field, leaving it bare, clean, and ready for the hoes. The soil is loosened around the roots of the old stubble. In time, another crop grows from the previous year’s seed. The same thing happens the following year. But by the third year, the seed has lost its strength, and the field must be plowed and planted again. In the second year, the cane is sweeter and yields more than in the first. In the third year, it is sweeter and yields more than in the second.

During the three seasons I labored on Hawkins' plantation, I was employed a considerable portion of the time in the sugar-house. He is celebrated as the producer of the finest variety of white sugar. The following is a general description of his sugar-house and the process of manufacture:

During the three seasons I worked on Hawkins' plantation, I spent much of my time in the sugar house. Hawkins is famous for producing the finest variety of white sugar. Here is a general description of his sugar house and how the sugar is made:

The mill is an immense brick building, standing on the shore of the bayou. Running out from the building is an open shed, at least an hundred feet in length and forty or fifty feet in width. The boiler in which the steam is generated is situated outside the main building; the machinery and engine rest on a brick pier, fifteen feet above the floor, within the body of the building. The machinery turns two great iron rollers, between two and three feet in diameter and six or eight feet in length. They are elevated above the brick pier, and roll in towards each other. An endless carrier, made of chain and wood, like leathern belts used in small mills, extends from the iron rollers out of the main building and through the entire length of the open shed. The carts in which the cane is brought from the field as fast as it is cut, are unloaded at the sides of the shed. All along the endless carrier are ranged slave children, whose business it is to place the cane upon it, when it is conveyed through the shed into the main building, where it falls between the rollers, is crushed, and drops upon another carrier that conveys it out of the main building in an opposite direction, depositing it in the top of a chimney upon a fire beneath, which consumes it. It is necessary to burn it in this manner, because otherwise it would soon fill the building, and more especially because it would soon sour and engender disease. The juice of the cane falls into a conductor underneath the iron rollers, and is carried into a reservoir. Pipes convey it from thence into five filterers, holding several hogsheads each. These filterers are filled with bone-black, a substance resembling pulverized charcoal. It is made of bones calcinated in close vessels, and is used for the purpose of decolorizing, by filtration, the cane juice before boiling. Through these five filterers it passes in succession, and then runs into a large reservoir underneath the ground floor, from whence it is carried up, by means of a steam pump, into a clarifier made of sheet iron, where it is heated by steam until it boils. From the first clarifier it is carried in pipes to a second and a third, and thence into close iron pans, through which tubes pass, filled with steam. While in a boiling state it flows through three pans in succession, and is then carried in other pipes down to the coolers on the ground floor. Coolers are wooden boxes with sieve bottoms made of the finest wire. As soon as the syrup passes into the coolers, and is met by the air, it grains, and the molasses at once escapes through the sieves into a cistern below. It is then white or loaf sugar of the finest kind—clear, clean, and as white as snow. When cool, it is taken out, packed in hogsheads, and is ready for market. The molasses is then carried from the cistern into the upper story again, and by another process converted into brown sugar.

The mill is an immense brick building on the shore of the bayou. An open shed extends from the building. It is at least a hundred feet long and forty or fifty feet wide. The boiler that produces the steam is outside the main building. Inside, the machinery and engine rest on a brick pier fifteen feet above the floor. The machinery turns two great iron rollers, each between two and three feet in diameter and six or eight feet long. They are raised above the brick pier and roll inward toward each other. An endless conveyor made of chain and wood extends from the rollers, out of the main building and through the entire shed. It is like the leather belts used in small mills. Carts bring the cane from the field as fast as it is cut, and workers unload them along the sides of the shed. Slave children stand along the conveyor, placing the cane on it. The conveyor carries the cane through the shed and into the main building. There, the cane falls between the rollers, is crushed, and drops onto another conveyor. This conveyor carries it out of the building in the opposite direction. It deposits the crushed cane through the top of a chimney onto a fire below, where it burns. It must be burned this way because it would otherwise soon fill the building. More importantly, it would soon sour and breed disease. The cane juice falls into a channel beneath the rollers and flows into a reservoir. Pipes carry it from there into five filters, each holding several hogsheads. These filters are filled with bone-black, a substance resembling powdered charcoal. It is made by heating bones in closed containers and is used to remove color from the cane juice before boiling. The juice passes through all five filters in succession. It then runs into a large reservoir beneath the ground floor. A steam pump carries it up to a sheet-iron clarifier, where steam heats it to boiling. Pipes carry the juice from the first clarifier to a second and then a third. From there, it flows into closed iron pans fitted with tubes full of steam. Still boiling, it passes through three pans in succession. Other pipes then carry it down to the coolers on the ground floor. The coolers are wooden boxes with sieve bottoms made of the finest wire. As soon as the syrup enters the coolers and meets the air, it forms grains. The molasses immediately drains through the sieves into a cistern below. What remains is the finest white or loaf sugar, clear, clean, and as white as snow. Once cool, it is removed, packed in hogsheads, and ready for market. The molasses is then carried back to the upper story and converted into brown sugar by another process.

There are larger mills, and those constructed differently from the one thus imperfectly described, but none, perhaps, more celebrated than this anywhere on Bayou Bœuf. Lambert, of New-Orleans, is a partner of Hawkins. He is a man of vast wealth, holding, as I have been told, an interest in over forty different sugar plantations in Louisiana.

There are larger mills, and some are built differently from the one I have described imperfectly here. But perhaps none is more famous anywhere on Bayou Bœuf. Lambert, of New-Orleans, is Hawkins’s partner. He is very wealthy. I have been told he has an interest in more than forty sugar plantations in Louisiana.

The only respite from constant labor the slave has through the whole year, is during the Christmas holidays. Epps allowed us three—others allow four, five and six days, according to the measure of their generosity. It is the only time to which they look forward with any interest or pleasure. They are glad when night comes, not only because it brings them a few hours repose, but because it brings them one day nearer Christmas. It is hailed with equal delight by the old and the young; even Uncle Abram ceases to glorify Andrew Jackson, and Patsey forgets her many sorrows, amid the general hilarity of the holidays. It is the time of feasting, and frolicking, and fiddling—the carnival season with the children of bondage. They are the only days when they are allowed a little restricted liberty, and heartily indeed do they enjoy it.

The only break a slave gets from constant labor all year is during the Christmas holidays. Epps gave us three days. Others allow four, five, or six days, depending on how generous they are. Christmas is the only time slaves look forward to with any interest or pleasure. They are glad when night comes, not only because it brings them a few hours of rest. It also brings them one day closer to Christmas. Old and young alike welcome the holiday with delight. Even Uncle Abram stops praising Andrew Jackson, and Patsey forgets her many sorrows amid the general holiday merriment. It is a time of feasting, playing, and fiddle music, the carnival season for the children of bondage. These are the only days when slaves are allowed a little restricted freedom, and they enjoy it wholeheartedly.

It is the custom for one planter to give a "Christmas supper," inviting the slaves from neighboring plantations to join his own on the occasion; for instance, one year it is given by Epps, the next by Marshall, the next by Hawkins, and so on. Usually from three to five hundred are assembled, coming together on foot, in carts, on horseback, on mules, riding double and triple, sometimes a boy and girl, at others a girl and two boys, and at others again a boy, a girl and an old woman. Uncle Abram astride a mule, with Aunt Phebe and Patsey behind him, trotting towards a Christmas supper, would be no uncommon sight on Bayou Bœuf.

It is customary for one planter to give a "Christmas supper," inviting slaves from neighboring plantations to join his own slaves. For example, Epps might give it one year, Marshall the next, Hawkins the next, and so on. Usually, three to five hundred people gather. They come on foot, in carts, on horseback, and on mules. They ride two or three to an animal. Sometimes a boy and girl ride together, sometimes a girl and two boys, and sometimes a boy, a girl, and an old woman. On Bayou Bœuf, it would not be unusual to see Uncle Abram riding a mule with Aunt Phebe and Patsey behind him, trotting toward a Christmas supper.

Then, too, "of all days i' the year," they array themselves in their best attire. The cotton coat has been washed clean, the stump of a tallow candle has been applied to the shoes, and if so fortunate as to possess a rimless or a crownless hat, it is placed jauntily on the head. They are welcomed with equal cordiality, however, if they come bare-headed and barefooted to the feast. As a general thing, the women wear handkerchiefs tied about their heads, but if chance has thrown in their way a fiery red ribbon, or a cast-off bonnet of their mistress' grandmother, it is sure to be worn on such occasions. Red—the deep blood red—is decidedly the favorite color among the enslaved damsels of my acquaintance. If a red ribbon does not encircle the neck, you will be certain to find all the hair of their woolly heads tied up with red strings of one sort or another.

Then, too, "of all the days in the year," they dress in their best clothes. The cotton coat has been washed clean, and the shoes have been polished with a stub of tallow candle. If someone is lucky enough to have a hat without a brim or a crown, it is worn jauntily. Even so, they are welcomed just as warmly if they come to the feast bareheaded and barefoot. The women generally wear handkerchiefs tied around their heads. But if a woman happens to find a bright red ribbon or her mistress' grandmother's discarded bonnet, she will surely wear it on such occasions. Deep blood red is definitely the favorite color among the enslaved young women I know. If a red ribbon is not tied around their necks, you will certainly find their woolly hair tied up with red strings of one kind or another.

The table is spread in the open air, and loaded with varieties of meat and piles of vegetables. Bacon and corn meal at such times are dispensed with. Sometimes the cooking is performed in the kitchen on the plantation, at others in the shade of wide branching trees. In the latter case, a ditch is dug in the ground, and wood laid in and burned until it is filled with glowing coals, over which chickens, ducks, turkeys, pigs, and not unfrequently the entire body of a wild ox, are roasted. They are furnished also with flour, of which biscuits are made, and often with peach and other preserves, with tarts, and every manner and description of pies, except the mince, that being an article of pastry as yet unknown among them. Only the slave who has lived all the years on his scanty allowance of meal and bacon, can appreciate such suppers. White people in great numbers assemble to witness the gastronomical enjoyments.

The table is set outdoors and piled with different kinds of meat and vegetables. On these occasions, the usual bacon and cornmeal are set aside. Sometimes the food is cooked in the plantation kitchen. At other times, it is cooked in the shade of wide-branching trees. When the cooking is done outdoors, a ditch is dug in the ground. Wood is placed in the ditch and burned until it is full of glowing coals. Chickens, ducks, turkeys, pigs, and often a whole wild ox are roasted over the coals. They are also given flour to make biscuits. They often have peach and other preserves, tarts, and every kind of pie except mince pie. That pastry is still unknown among them. Only a slave who has lived for years on a scanty allowance of meal and bacon can appreciate such suppers. Large numbers of white people gather to watch them enjoy the feast.

They seat themselves at the rustic table—the males on one side, the females on the other. The two between whom there may have been an exchange of tenderness, invariably manage to sit opposite; for the omnipresent Cupid disdains not to hurl his arrows into the simple hearts of slaves. Unalloyed and exulting happiness lights up the dark faces of them all. The ivory teeth, contrasting with their black complexions, exhibit two long, white streaks the whole extent of the table. All round the bountiful board a multitude of eyes roll in ecstacy. Giggling and laughter and the clattering of cutlery and crockery succeed. Cuffee's elbow hunches his neighbor's side, impelled by an involuntary impulse of delight; Nelly shakes her finger at Sambo and laughs, she knows not why, and so the fun and merriment flows on.

They sit at the rustic table, the males on one side and the females on the other. Any two who may have exchanged tender feelings always manage to sit opposite each other. For Cupid is everywhere, and he does not disdain to shoot his arrows into the simple hearts of slaves. Pure, joyful happiness lights up all their dark faces. Their ivory teeth contrast with their black complexions, forming two long white streaks along the whole table. All around the generously laden table, countless eyes roll in ecstasy. Then come giggles, laughter, and the clatter of cutlery and dishes. Overcome with delight, Cuffee gives his neighbor an involuntary nudge in the side. Nelly shakes her finger at Sambo and laughs without knowing why. And so the fun and merriment go on.

When the viands have disappeared, and the hungry maws of the children of toil are satisfied, then, next in the order of amusement, is the Christmas dance. My business on these gala days always was to play on the violin. The African race is a music-loving one, proverbially; and many there were among my fellow-bondsmen whose organs of tune were strikingly developed, and who could thumb the banjo with dexterity; but at the expense of appearing egotistical, I must, nevertheless, declare, that I was considered the Ole Bull of Bayou Bœuf. My master often received letters, sometimes from a distance of ten miles, requesting him to send me to play at a ball or festival of the whites. He received his compensation, and usually I also returned with many picayunes jingling in my pockets—the extra contributions of those to whose delight I had administered. In this manner I became more acquainted than I otherwise would, up and down the bayou. The young men and maidens of Holmesville always knew there was to be a jollification somewhere, whenever Platt Epps was seen passing through the town with his fiddle in his hand. "Where are you going now, Platt?" and "What is coming off to-night, Platt?" would be interrogatories issuing from every door and window, and many a time when there was no special hurry, yielding to pressing importunities, Platt would draw his bow, and sitting astride his mule, perhaps, discourse musically to a crowd of delighted children, gathered around him in the street.

When the food was gone and the hungry workers had eaten their fill, the Christmas dance came next. My job on these festive days was always to play the violin. The African race is famously fond of music. Many of my fellow slaves had a remarkable ear for music and could play the banjo skillfully. But even at the risk of sounding conceited, I must say that I was considered the Ole Bull of Bayou Bœuf. My master often received letters asking him to send me to play at a ball or festival for white people. Some came from as far as ten miles away. He was paid for my services. I also usually returned with many picayunes jingling in my pockets, extra gifts from those I had entertained. In this way, I became better acquainted with people up and down the bayou than I otherwise would have been. Whenever Platt Epps passed through Holmesville carrying his fiddle, the young men and women knew a celebration was coming. "Where are you going now, Platt?" and "What is coming off tonight, Platt?" were questions called out from every door and window. Often, when I was in no particular hurry, I gave in to their eager requests. Perhaps sitting astride my mule, I would draw my bow across the fiddle and play for them. A crowd of delighted children would gather around me in the street.

Alas! had it not been for my beloved violin, I scarcely can conceive how I could have endured the long years of bondage. It introduced me to great houses—relieved me of many days' labor in the field—supplied me with conveniences for my cabin—with pipes and tobacco, and extra pairs of shoes, and oftentimes led me away from the presence of a hard master, to witness scenes of jollity and mirth. It was my companion—the friend of my bosom—triumphing loudly when I was joyful, and uttering its soft, melodious consolations when I was sad. Often, at midnight, when sleep had fled affrighted from the cabin, and my soul was disturbed and troubled with the contemplation of my fate, it would sing me a song of peace. On holy Sabbath days, when an hour or two of leisure was allowed, it would accompany me to some quiet place on the bayou bank, and, lifting up its voice, discourse kindly and pleasantly indeed. It heralded my name round the country—made me friends, who, otherwise would not have noticed me—gave me an honored seat at the yearly feasts, and secured the loudest and heartiest welcome of them all at the Christmas dance. The Christmas dance! Oh, ye pleasure-seeking sons and daughters of idleness, who move with measured step, listless and snail-like, through the slow-winding cotillon, if ye wish to look upon the celerity, if not the "poetry of motion"—upon genuine happiness, rampant and unrestrained—go down to Louisiana, and see the slaves dancing in the starlight of a Christmas night.

Alas, without my beloved violin, I can hardly imagine how I could have endured those long years of bondage. It took me into grand houses and spared me many days of field labor. It provided comforts for my cabin, pipes and tobacco, and extra pairs of shoes. Often, it took me away from a hard master and let me witness scenes of joy and laughter. It was my companion, my closest friend. It sang out triumphantly when I was happy and offered soft, melodious comfort when I was sad. Often at midnight, sleep had fled from the cabin in fear. As I lay troubled and disturbed by thoughts of my fate, my violin would sing me a song of peace. On holy Sundays, when I was allowed an hour or two of leisure, it accompanied me to a quiet place by the bayou. There it raised its voice and spoke kindly and pleasantly to me. It spread my name around the country and made me friends who otherwise would not have noticed me. It gave me an honored seat at the yearly feasts and the loudest, warmest welcome of all at the Christmas dance. The Christmas dance! Oh, you pleasure-seeking sons and daughters of idleness, you move through the slow, winding cotillion with measured steps, listless and slow as snails. If you wish to see speed, if not the "poetry of motion", and genuine happiness, wild and unrestrained, go down to Louisiana. There, see the slaves dancing in the starlight on Christmas night.

On that particular Christmas I have now in my mind, a description whereof will serve as a description of the day generally, Miss Lively and Mr. Sam, the first belonging to Stewart, the latter to Roberts, started the ball. It was well known that Sam cherished an ardent passion for Lively, as also did one of Marshall's and another of Carey's boys; for Lively was lively indeed, and a heart-breaking coquette withal. It was a victory for Sam Roberts, when, rising from the repast, she gave him her hand for the first "figure" in preference to either of his rivals. They were somewhat crest-fallen, and, shaking their heads angrily, rather intimated they would like to pitch into Mr. Sam and hurt him badly. But not an emotion of wrath ruffled the placid bosom of Samuel, as his legs flew like drum-sticks down the outside and up the middle, by the side of his bewitching partner. The whole company cheered them vociferously, and, excited with the applause, they continued "tearing down" after all the others had become exhausted and halted a moment to recover breath. But Sam's superhuman exertions overcame him finally, leaving Lively alone, yet whirling like a top. Thereupon one of Sam's rivals, Pete Marshall, dashed in, and, with might and main, leaped and shuffled and threw himself into every conceivable shape, as if determined to show Miss Lively and all the world that Sam Roberts was of no account.

I remember one particular Christmas that will serve as a description of the day in general. Miss Lively and Mr. Sam started the ball. Lively belonged to Stewart, and Sam belonged to Roberts. Everyone knew that Sam was passionately in love with Lively. So were one of Marshall's boys and another of Carey's. For Lively was lively indeed, and a heart-breaking flirt as well. When they got up from the meal, she gave Sam her hand for the first "figure," choosing him over both rivals. It was a victory for Sam Roberts. His rivals were rather downcast. They shook their heads angrily, hinting that they wanted to attack Mr. Sam and hurt him badly. But Samuel remained perfectly calm. Beside his enchanting partner, his legs flew like drumsticks down the outside and up the middle. The whole company cheered them loudly. Encouraged by the applause, the pair kept "tearing down" after everyone else had stopped to catch their breath. At last, Sam's superhuman efforts exhausted him. Lively was left alone, still whirling like a top. Then one of Sam's rivals, Pete Marshall, dashed in. With all his might, he leaped, shuffled, and twisted himself into every imaginable shape. He seemed determined to show Miss Lively and all the world that Sam Roberts was of no account.

Pete's affection, however, was greater than his discretion. Such violent exercise took the breath out of him directly, and he dropped like an empty bag. Then was the time for Harry Carey to try his hand; but Lively also soon out-winded him, amidst hurrahs and shouts, fully sustaining her well-earned reputation of being the "fastest gal" on the bayou.

Pete's affection, however, was greater than his judgment. The strenuous exercise quickly left him out of breath, and he dropped like an empty bag. Then Harry Carey took his turn. But Lively soon outlasted him too, amid cheers and shouts. She fully upheld her well-earned reputation as the "fastest gal" on the bayou.

One "set" off, another takes its place, he or she remaining longest on the floor receiving the most uproarious commendation, and so the dancing continues until broad daylight. It does not cease with the sound of the fiddle, but in that case they set up a music peculiar to themselves. This is called "patting," accompanied with one of those unmeaning songs, composed rather for its adaptation to a certain tune or measure, than for the purpose of expressing any distinct idea. The patting is performed by striking the hands on the knees, then striking the hands together, then striking the right shoulder with one hand, the left with the other—all the while keeping time with the feet, and singing, perhaps, this song:

When one "set" leaves the floor, another takes its place. Whoever stays on the floor longest receives the loudest cheers. And so the dancing continues until broad daylight. It does not stop when the fiddle falls silent. Instead, the dancers make a kind of music of their own. This is called "patting." They accompany it with one of their songs that has no particular meaning. Such songs are made to fit a tune or rhythm rather than to express a clear idea. To perform the patting, they strike their knees with their hands, then clap their hands together. Then they strike the right shoulder with one hand and the left shoulder with the other. All the while, they keep time with their feet and sing, perhaps, this song:

Or, if these words are not adapted to the tune called for, it may be that "Old Hog Eye" is—a rather solemn and startling specimen of versification, not, however, to be appreciated unless heard at the South. It runneth as follows:

Or, if these words do not fit the requested tune, perhaps "Old Hog Eye" does. It is a rather solemn and startling piece of verse, though it cannot be appreciated unless heard in the South. It goes as follows:

Or, may be the following, perhaps, equally nonsensical, but full of melody, nevertheless, as it flows from the negro's mouth:

Or perhaps the following, though equally nonsensical, is full of melody as it flows from the negro's mouth:

During the remaining holidays succeeding Christmas, they are provided with passes, and permitted to go where they please within a limited distance, or they may remain and labor on the plantation, in which case they are paid for it. It is very rarely, however, that the latter alternative is accepted. They may be seen at these times hurrying in all directions, as happy looking mortals as can be found on the face of the earth. They are different beings from what they are in the field; the temporary relaxation, the brief deliverance from fear, and from the lash, producing an entire metamorphosis in their appearance and demeanor. In visiting, riding, renewing old friendships, or, perchance, reviving some old attachment, or pursuing whatever pleasure may suggest itself, the time is occupied. Such is "southern life as it is," three days in the year, as I found it—the other three hundred and sixty-two being days of weariness, and fear, and suffering, and unremitting labor.

During the remaining holidays after Christmas, they receive passes and may go wherever they please within a limited distance. They may also stay and work on the plantation, in which case they are paid. Very rarely, however, do they choose to stay and work. At these times, they can be seen hurrying in all directions, looking as happy as anyone on earth. They seem like different people from those in the fields. The temporary rest and brief escape from fear and the lash completely transform their appearance and behavior. They spend the time visiting, riding, renewing old friendships, or perhaps rekindling an old attachment. They pursue whatever pleasures occur to them. Such is "southern life as it is," three days of the year, as I found it. The other three hundred and sixty-two are days of weariness, fear, suffering, and endless labor.

Marriage is frequently contracted during the holidays, if such an institution may be said to exist among them. The only ceremony required before entering into that "holy estate," is to obtain the consent of the respective owners. It is usually encouraged by the masters of female slaves. Either party can have as many husbands or wives as the owner will permit, and either is at liberty to discard the other at pleasure. The law in relation to divorce, or to bigamy, and so forth, is not applicable to property, of course. If the wife does not belong on the same plantation with the husband, the latter is permitted to visit her on Saturday nights, if the distance is not too far. Uncle Abram's wife lived seven miles from Epps', on Bayou Huff Power. He had permission to visit her once a fortnight, but he was growing old, as has been said, and truth to say, had latterly well nigh forgotten her. Uncle Abram had no time to spare from his meditations on General Jackson—connubial dalliance being well enough for the young and thoughtless, but unbecoming a grave and solemn philosopher like himself.

Marriages often take place during the holidays, if marriage can be said to exist among them. The only ceremony required before entering that "holy estate" is to get the consent of both owners. The masters of female slaves usually encourage marriage. Either party can have as many husbands or wives as the owner allows, and either can discard the other at will. Laws about divorce, bigamy, and such matters do not apply to property, of course. If the wife belongs to a different plantation from her husband, he may visit her on Saturday nights, if she does not live too far away. Uncle Abram's wife lived seven miles from Epps', on Bayou Huff Power. He had permission to visit her once every two weeks. But he was growing old, as I have said, and, truthfully, he had lately almost forgotten her. Uncle Abram had no time to spare from his thoughts about General Jackson. Marital affection was well enough for the young and thoughtless, but it did not suit a serious and solemn philosopher like himself.