Transcribed and Donated by Leslie Howard Strawn
Brookfield, May 10, 1864
Mrs. Potts
Dear Friend, I received the paper in good time and thought I would acknowledge it immediately, but have been busy, piecing quilts and tying comforts and our folks have been so busy they could not read it all to me sooner. I was truly pleased on receiving the paper, it seemed to say you had not forgotten me. I very often think of you while wearing the caps you made me and using the handkerchiefs you so kindly hemmed me, and the pleasant hours I spent with you.
I staid at Williams’ three weeks and pieced her eight covers, tied three in comforts, and quilted one and then she sent me home in style. William came home on the 16th of February, and she had a daughter on the 20th, and on the 24th he left for Chicago, and then he wrote me a very complimentary, pretty letter, thanking me for my visit to his wife, and said she appreciated it so much.
There is much good reading on the paper. The sermon on the Web is very good with the exception of that foolish, spiteful nickname “Copperhead” the Abolitionists gave the Democrats, like silly spiteful children. When they have no argument they take to calling names, that way their spite to vent; but among common, decent people nicknames and bywords are considered too mean to be indulged in. In Mr. Adams’ letter to his friend I think there are some inconsistencies. He wants a strong Republican government. Geography says, “In a republic the chief magistrate or president is chosen by the people.” Democratic rule, with very little exception, and no country ever improved or prospered to equal it, till the Abolitionists got the power to make war. And how is he to prevent the “damning doctrine of state rights’ if he has a Republican government when the people are the sovereigns?
Our president Lincoln admitted three territories into the Union with “State rights” the first thing he did; and was ever a monarch more promptly obeyed than President Lincoln? Mr. Adams seem to think that God is about to make a display of the Negroes as of ancient Israel, but hopes a few of the whites will be saved for the benefit of the Negro. He seems to forget that the Israelites were sent to destroy the children of Canaan or to take them for bondman and maid. “And they shall be an inheritance to you and your seed forever. We are of Japheth family of gentiles.” Mr. Adam’s ideas are the same as the man I met at William’s. I will give you the conversation in rhyme.
One of the those fanatics,
I heard him tell his friend,
Till the Negroes all were free
This war will never end.
Both the North and South
Are just entering the Red Sea,
And when the Negroes get across,
Drowned the whites will be.
With only a few exceptions
Of the smartest and the best,
Preserved for meanest servitude
But the Negroes then possessed.
Then this continent will flourish
And be the whole world’s admiration,
The greatest and the richest
Of every other nation.
And they’ll build the greatest city
That ever yet was known,
Surpassing every other
Since first the world began.
I said, this man’s insane
On that subject, lost his reason;
If all that could be done for them
“Twould last but a short season.
I said, why, you must tend to them
And get them all red breeches,
To strut and feel their consequence,
But the unfaithful wretches,
They strutted off and left him
And took with them their plunder,
New muskets and bright bayonets,
A Negro trick, now wonder.
In less than six short months
Would pass the glory of their breeches,
In less than seven years
Would pass the glory of their riches.
For farms are on the retrograde
Unless they are well cared,
With rails and gates and stakes
Frequently repaired.
And houses in the city
As well as on plantations,
If in Negroes hands would be
Soon in dilapidation.
For the Negro is no use
But in the far distant South,
Where he needs but little clothing
And enough to fill his mouth.
A Dutchman or in Irishman
Will do more work in a day,
Than a Negro will in three,
It is a common say.
To let alone the Negro
We ought all to agree,
And stop this sore contention,
For it’s very bad, you see.
In August, 1863, at my nephew’s in Lacon, I met a Methodist preacher who asked me if I was not rejoicing at the idea of the Negroes being free. After a few words, I told him to read his Bible. He said he did read his Bible, I told him he would read from Genesis to Revelations of master and servant through every generation. I gave him some of my ideas in rhyme.
When this war commenced,
We thought it was to save the Union,
But now the war is changed
All for Abolition.
They never would have gone
If they had not been deceived,
Murdered for Abolition,
My heart is doubly grieved.
When Noah left the ark,
He with him all did bring,
For God commanded Noah
To take every living thing.
Shem, Ham and Japheth
Were the names of Noah’s sons,
But Japheth had the promise
More than both the other ones.
Japheth shall be enlarged
And in Shem’s tents shall dwell,
Canaan shall be his servant,
And that, the Book doth tell.
Ham, for misdemeanor
On his seed was left a curse,
And the meddling abolitionists
Have made it ten times worse.
And I will multiply thee
As the stars of heaven,
So vast will be thy seed
The numbers can’t be given.
Three hundred and eighteen servants
In Abraham’s house were born,
And how many more he had
From the Book we cannot learn.
But it speaks of all those
That with his money he had bought,
Not how many he from Haran
To Canaan with him brought.
But the Book says he was rich
In servants and in cattle,
And yet about the servants,
Abolitionists will prattle.
God changed his name to Abraham
And told him in his seed,
All nations of the earth
Should be blessed indeed.
So Abraham was the first man
That had the promise of our Savior,
Notwithstanding all his servants,
God granted him that favor.
And Abraham greatly prospered
In cattle and in servants,
The father of the faithful,
He served the Lord so fervent.
To the Jews a law was given,
And thus the Book hath said,
Take of the heathen round about you
For bondman and for maid.
They shall be an inheritance
To you and your seed, forever,
So this is not the time
For abolition, now or ever.
You may just as well expect
To make the sun rise in the West
As to free all the servants
When you have done your best.
Canaan, the son of Ham,
On him the curse doth rest,
He shall be Japheth’s servant,
And Japheth shall be blessed.
A servant of servants
To his brethren he shall be,
Can you reverse the sentence
Or alter God’s decree?
Beware you do not trample
Upon the law of God,
For fear that he may scourge you
With His iron rod.
From these three sons of Noah
The earth was overspread,
The three nations of the earth,
And that the Book hath said.
We have been dwelling in Shem’s tents
More than three hundred years,
We have been pressing back the red men,
The Indians, plain and clear.
The children now of Shem
Are committing depredation,
To follow your example
And help destroy the Nation.
God commanded Abraham,
To leave the land of Haran,
Take his servants and his cattle
And go away to Canaan.
To leave his native land,
His parents and his kin,
And go away to Canaan,
Where he had never been.
“Take with thee thy wife and substances
Thy silver and thy gold”
But not a word about the servants’ kin
God to Abraham told.
But he said, “I will go with thee
And guide thee in the way,
In blessing I will bless thee
And with thee I will stay”
You now have those nations
In an unlawful riot,
Oh! If God would speak
And say, “Peace, be quiet.”
I would lay aside my pen
And strive to be thankful,
And wipe my poor old eyes,
For they are very painful.
The preacher seemed anxious to hear from me again, so I wrote the following:
Again about the servants,
It’s no consequence to me
If the African’s a bondman,
Or if he may be free.
But in your loving kindness
Behold then what you do,
You are destroying of the servants
And injuring their masters, too.
They were contented and were happy,
And constantly clothed and fed,
Their families will cared for,
No troubles in their head.
They felt themselves at home
And were acquainted all around,
And in the merry dance
Of an evening lightly bound.
Working then in cotton fields
At their leisure through the day,
And at night were fresh and keen
To fiddle, dance and play.
No people half so happy,
So cheerful and so gay,
In Autumn constant meeting
To sing and laugh and play.
No people half so faithfully
Obeyed that one command,
To multiply, be fruitful,
To replenish Dixie land.
Some chose to go to meeting,
To sing and join in prayer,
As free to go to meeting
As to dance they were.
Where the masters held prayer meeting
The servants did so too,
To imitate their masters
The servants tried to do.
But now their comfort’s over,
Their times of jollification,
For they are scattered and dispersed
Through the most part of our nation.
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Poor old Father Abraham!
They have got him in a snap,
The Abolitionists have fettered him,
And caught him in a trap.
Notwithstanding his remonstrance,
He said, “I have no right,”
But still they kept a teasing him
Almost both day and night.
He said, “I have no power
And I have no inclination,”
But still they kept on urging him
To make his proclamation.
He said, “’Twill do no good,
It can be of no use,
Like the Pope’s bull against the comet
Neither good nor harm produce.”
But it has produced much evil,
As we with horror see the fruits,
Of the riots and the butchery
Caused by the heathen brutes.
Must our little orphan girls,
A sacrifice be made
To heathen, brutal lust,
By war an orphan made?
Whose fathers bled and died
To set the heathen free,
That’s the use he makes,
The wretch, of liberty.
Must they be let loose among us,
I ask, with awful fear,
Will not God, or nature,
Prevent their ravage here?
So near the orang outang,
But one small link between,
Must they be running loose
And near our children seen?
O, start them to the South,
With a quick and hurried step,
Where they may by their master
Be in some order kept.
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I always thought the lowest
And the meanest thing in nature,
Was to meddle and to gabble
With the business of our neighbor.
But the wise man he has told us,
Every fool will still be meddling,
And this crew’s been traveling round,
Abolitionism peddling.
And stealing of the Negroes
And running them away,
Regardless of God’s law
Or the law of our day.
He that stealeth a man,
That man shall surely die,
Oh! Yes, wicked thieves,
To God begin to cry.
When you see the awful murder,
The devastation of our nation,
Without a bitter sore repentance,
You can’t expectation.
Oh! Mr. Lincoln,
Recall your proclamation,
Before it is too late
For you to expect salvation.
And save us from the terror,
And save us from the horror,
And save us from the butchery
Of the coming morrow.
Your oath doth surely bind you
To the population,
And why have you forsaken us,
To exalt the heathen nation?
You have taken from us our money
And taken from us our treasure,
To exalt the heathen
It seems to be your pleasure.
Consider for a moment,
Will you take the children’s bread,
And cast it to the heathen dogs
That always were well fed?
The lowest, meanest heathen
The earth did ere produce,
Compelled to clothe and feed them,
What can be your excuse?
I fear, Mr. Lincoln,
The step you have taken,
You greatly do expose
Your own old bony bacon.
More than then thousand souls
To see your head off, on a block,
Would rejoice, because ‘twould save
Millions of better stock.
Consider where you stand,
You poor, old perjured wretch,
If you don’t change your course
I fear you, hemp will stretch.
Why will you not agree
To some negotiation,
Why will you risk your neck
To exterminate the nation?
We beg you would come back
To the laws and constitution,
And we would all rejoice
To grant you absolution.
Notwithstanding all the murder
You have caused to be done,
We would hope God would forgive you
Through the merits of His Son.
Then the children of the South
Would gladly soon come in,
Because in self defense
Much trouble they have seen.
If they could be protected
By the laws and Constitution,
They soon would hoist the stars and stripes,
The emblem of the Union.
If a man shall beat his servant
With a rod, his man or maid,
Till he died under his hand,
He shall be punished, the Book hat said.
But if he shall continue
A day or two and die,
He is free, he is his money,
His own property.
In the Gospel we have rules
To govern this connection,
And to read them carefully
You should have not objection.
The servant is commanded
His master to obey,
Not as an eye-servant, but as
In God’s sight from day to day.
Servants obey your masters
And strive to please them well,
Not answering again,
But mind what they you tell.
They must not be purloining,
Taking what’s not their own,
Servants must not steal,
And that to them is known.
Master, forbear to threaten,
Forgive, as you would be forgiven,
Knowing you yourselves
Have a Master that is in Heaven.
Whatsoever good thing
Man doeth, we may see,
God will recompense him
If he be beholden or free.
Saint Paul declares himself
An Apostle of our Savior,
When he was teaching all men
The rules of good behavior.
He said “As many servants
As are under the yoke,
Should count their masters worthy
Of all honor,” thus he spoke.
Masters render to your servants
That which is just and equal.
To all their wants and needs;
And so ends the sequel.
This trifling, lying Tribune
Is doing all it can,
To make this war continue
While there is a living man.
Encouraging the South
And making them believe,
The North is so divided,
Great help from there they’ll receive.
They know they are a lying
When they print such poison stuff,
To get up an insurrection,
They’ve tried it long enough.
The patience of the Democrats
Enrages them the more,
But now they fret and fume
Worse than they did before.
Like vicious, spiteful children,
When they have no argument,
Then they take to calling names,
That way their spite to vent.
And since this latest call
For more volunteers,
Not a “Union League” steps out
To say that I am here.
But the Democrats are going
From this neighborhood around,
But not the first abolitionist
That will go is to be found.
Now most part of our arms
Are Democrat men,
As brave and daring soldiers
As every yet have been.
Although they were deceived
And decoyed into the field,
But since they’ve taken up arms
Resolved they’ll never yield.
But faithful at their post
While life and limb endure,
Until this war is ended
And terms of peace are sure.
Our very nearest neighbor
A good Democratic man,
Although he hates the policy,
Shuns Negroes when he can.
Says, “I have made up my mind
That I will volunteer,
For if the draft should take me
I’d be ashamed to appear.”
He is trying to get ready
He’s a considerate man,
For the comfort of his family
He’s doing what he can.
His interesting family,
Good wife and children too,
To leave those dear helpless ones
‘Tis hard for him to do.
But he’s hauling off his corn
And getting up the wood,
He’s not got three hundred dollars,
The price of poor man’s blood.
Oh! The new unheard of policy
In this free and equal land,
The rich and poor were drafted,
Must go or lend a hand.
But these new politicians
Have not money quite enough,
The money and the Negro
For them are just the stuff.
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