Among the Pines; or, South in Secession Time. James R. Gilmore

Among the Pines; or, South in Secession Time - James R. Gilmore


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       James R. Gilmore

      Among the Pines; or, South in Secession Time

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066162252

       CHAPTER I.

       ON THE ROAD.

       CHAPTER II.

       WAYSIDE HOSPITALITY.

       CHAPTER III.

       CROSSING THE "RUNS."

       CHAPTER IV.

       POOR WHITES.

       CHAPTER V.

       ON THE PLANTATION.

       CHAPTER VI.

       THE PLANTER'S "FAMILY."

       CHAPTER VII.

       PLANTATION DISCIPLINE.

       CHAPTER VIII.

       THE NEGRO HUNTER.

       CHAPTER IX.

       THE COUNTRY CHURCH.

       CHAPTER X.

       THE NEGRO FUNERAL.

       CHAPTER XI.

       THE PURSUIT.

       CHAPTER XII.

       THE YANKEE-SCHOOL-MISTRESS.

       CHAPTER XIII.

       THE RAILWAY STATION.

       CHAPTER XIV

       THE BARBACUE.

       CHAPTER XV.

       THE RETURN.

       CHAPTER XVI.

       "ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE."

       CHAPTER XVII.

       THE SMALL PLANTER.

       CHAPTER XVIII.

       THE BURIAL OF "JULE."

       CHAPTER XIX.

       HOMEWARD.

       CHAPTER XX.

       CONCLUSION.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      Some winters ago I passed several weeks at Tallahassee, Florida, and while there made the acquaintance of Colonel J——, a South Carolina planter. Accident, some little time later, threw us together again at Charleston, when I was gratified to learn that he would be my compagnon du voyage as far north as New York.

      He was accompanied by his body-servant, "Jim," a fine specimen of the genus darky, about thirty years of age, and born and reared in his master's family. As far as possible we made the journey by day, stopping at some convenient resting-place by night; on which occasions the Colonel, Jim, and myself would occupy the same or adjoining apartments, "we white folks" sleeping on four posts, while the more democratic negro spread his blanket on the floor. Thrown together thus intimately, it was but natural that we should learn much of each other.

      The "Colonel" was a highly cultivated and intelligent gentleman, and during this journey a friendship sprung up between us—afterward kept alive by a regular correspondence—which led him, with his wife and daughter, and the man Jim, to my house on his next visit at the North, one year later. I then promised—if I should ever again travel in South Carolina—to visit him on his plantation in the extreme north-eastern part of the state.

      In December last, about the time of the passage of the ordinance of secession, I had occasion to visit Charleston, and, previous to setting out, dispatched a letter to the Colonel with the information that I was ready to be led of him "into the wilderness." On arriving at the head-quarters of secession, I found a missive awaiting me, in which my friend cordially renewed his previous tender of hospitality, gave me particular directions how to proceed, and stated that his "man Jim" would meet


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