Blue Gray Review

Peaceful-looking Charleston

I’m not sure how factual this letter is, but I thought it was an interesting read, especially the two insurrectionist slaves burned to death and the southern unionist who was locked up for his beliefs and basically neglected to death. His wife also seems a heroic person.

From The New-York Times December 1, 1861:

AFFAIRS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.; PRIVATE LETTERS FROM CHARLESTON.

From the Philadelphia Inquirer.

We are permitted to copy the following letter, written to a lady in this city, from a relative in South Carolina. The statements made therein may be relied upon as an accurate description of affairs in that city at the present time:

CHARLESTON, S.C. Nov. 22, 1861.

Are women prophets? I almost believe their great love sometimes gives them the power to penetrate futurity; else how could you have so plainly predicted my present unhappy position, when you so earnestly entreated me to sacrifice my property here, and stay North, when a year ago, I thought it necessary to return? True, there were strong indications of the approaching contest between this fretful State, who will quarrel with her sister States and the Federal Government; but I had too much faith in the good sense of the South to believe she would be guilty of so suicidal an act as armed rebellion. You know too well how my faith in her was misplaced. Sumter fell and the South sank into the horrors of a war inaugurated by the headstrong folly of my own dear Carolina.

How earnestly you begged to accompany me, and share my dangers; but though I did not believe that avowed secession would be carried to downright rebellion, I knew how great was the excitement here, and how your strong Union views and Anti-Slavery opinions would endanger your safety. Now, I will not attempt to reason these matters with you. I am as strongly attached to the Union as you are, but I believe in Southern rights under the Constitution –rights which you do not fully perceive — and, as to the matter of Slavery, I need not waste time on that subject, for I know how firmly fixed your opinions are on that point.

Disguise the truth as we may, all thinking men here feel their position peculiarly unsafe; and those who are surrounded by female relatives, have their anxiety increased a thousand fold. We do not fear for the clash of contending armies, though that is sufficiently terrible to excite much apprehension; but even amid the carnage of war, the veriest boor within the armies would respect women; though traitors try to teach us that the Northern war cry is “Beauty and Booty;” but we do dread lest at midnight the fearful sound of servile insurrection shall salute our ears. You know the negroes are far superior in numbers to the whites, and now that so many are absent in the army their majority is greatly increased. If they rise we are in their power. Do you know what that means? Remember the history of all servile insurrections, and recall the horrors enacted by the race whom oppression has helped to brutalize. Of course the masters would fight desperately; but how could the small number of male whites defend their helpless wives and daughters against a tenfold force of maddened slaves, whose strength and ferocity are well known.

Much as I miss your society, and as keenly as I feel our long separation, I had rather know you shared the humblest cottage in the North in safety, than see you mistress of a palace with such danger threatening you.

Do not think our apprehension is expressed. When the difficulties began we looked daily for some uprising among the slaves. No general insurrection has taken place, though several revolts have been attempted; two quite recently, and in these cases whole families were murdered before the slaves were subdued. Then came retaliation of the most fearful character. At any time where servants assail or murder white persons, speedy and severe punishment is administered; but now they do not wait for the action of the law; Lynch law prevails. In these revolts, which occurred in the interior of the State, most of the servants who participated were either shot in the conflict or as soon as captured, and two of them were burned to death.

To say they were burned to death seems a simple sentence, devoid of any special horror; but the scene, as described to me by a witness, was too dreadful for mortal eyes. Imagine the poor wretches, red with the blood of their masters, cowering in the hands of those from whom they need not look for pity; not even for time to repent of deeds which exclude them from hope hereafter. They are dogged and defiant towards their captors, until their doom is pronounced — a fate of which they have a special horror. Dragged to the place of execution, within sight of their own houses, surrounded by their fellow-servants, who are compelled to witness the sight, they are bound to strong trees, with great heaps of pine knots piled close around their persons. Directly the torch is applied, and the inflammable pine bursts into a vivid flame. When the blaze reaches the bodies, and the sensitive flesh peels and crackles, their cries are too fearful to be heard by human ears. Nor is the torment soon over. The flames scorch the upper part of the bodies, producing exquisite agony, but slowly burn into the vitals, until the wretched sufferers go to judgment, with all their crimes upon their heads.

Do you wonder I am shocked? Suppose it had been NELLY, or ANDREW, or HIRAM, to whom we are so strongly attached? Yet these tortured criminals were favorite household servants of unusual intelligence. I ought not to tell you of those terrible things, but they haunt my memory so I cannot refrain. Thank Heaven, you are safe!

I undertook to say the apprehension of servile insurrection lost its power when, as time passed, all seemed peaceful; so we easily fell back into dreams of security until these events aroused us to watchfulness. This news is suppressed as far as possible, and kept entirely from the papers, for the negroes hear what is published if they do not read it, and such examples might produce disastrous consequences.

Poor F —– is dead; before the fall of Sumter he exerted all his influence, using both pen and voice against rebellion, until he was thrown into prison. At first he was treated as an ordinary criminal awaiting trial; but after the battle of Manassas, the Confederates seemed drunk with triumph at their victory, and mad with rage over the vast number of victims who fell in their ranks. I wrote you with what pomp this city mourned her dead; and it all, when the Confederate host seemed like to win, F —– was offered freedom and promotion if he would espouse the Confederate cause. His military and scientific attainments were considerable, which made them anxious for his services.

“I have sworn allegiance to the Union,” said be “and am not one to break my pledge.” When tempted with promotion if he could be prevailed upon to colist beneath then banner, he said, “you cannot buy my loyalty, i love Carolina, and the South; but I love my country better.” Finding him faithful to the flag he loved, he was made to feel the power of his enemies. He was cast into miserable, damp, illventilated cell, and fed on coarse fare; half the time neglected by his drunken keeper. His property was confiscated, and his wife and children beggared. Poor fellow! he sank beneath his troubles, and was soon removed from the persecution of his oppressors. The day before his death he said to his wife: “MARY, you are beggared because I would not prove disloyal.”

“God be thanked for your fidelity!” replied the wife, “They have taken your wealth and life, but could not stain your honor, and our children shall boast of an unspotted name. My husband rejoice in your truth.”

She returned to her friends after his death, openly declaring her proudest boast should be, her husband died a martyr to his patriotism. Who shall say the day of heroism has passed?

The ladies are generally strong Secessionists. They are forming bands of nurses, as the Northern ladies have done; they are also busy sewing for the army. What are you doing, little patriot? Persuading all your gentlemen friends to enlist in the Union troops, I suppose. Well, God speed them, and send us peace with little bloodshed; and then, unless you have learned to despise our rebellious Palmetto State, I shall welcome you to her luxuriant plains.