Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1862-11-03
MOftester 4ailg Spy


Correspondence New York Evening Post.
WASHINGTON, Oct. 20.-Not half an hour
had passed after the surrender when the rebel
army triumphantly entered the town of Har-
pers Ferry. 1t was a sad humiliating, a
disgraceful sight to loyal eyes, to see mounted
ensigns passing the breastworks guarded so
long by loyal soldiers, Haunting aloft the
bloody "stars and bars" and palmetto flag.
While the bombardment lasted, hope did not
quite die. Help might come We might yet
be saved, and the last throe of hope kept us
from despair. Thus the shock of cannon was
borne with cheerful patience but this was
sight that we could not bear. We had sur
rendered. Hope was dead we had nothing
left but disgrace They were on Virginia soil,
these traitors; but no Virginia woman well
coined their advent. No waving flags, no
outstretched hands, no murmurs OF Joy, no
glad acclaim reached these exultant gray
backs" as a woman's welcome. They peered
into the windows with curious eyes, some OF
these mounted cavaliers they sauntered
past, but the few faces which they saw were
tear dimmed. Even the children cried be-
cause the rebels had come. The bitterest
tears of a lifetime greeted them in at least one
house. If were to live a thousand lives,
that moment, in its poignant consciousness
of shame, defeat, degradation, could never be
repeated-that moment in which | looked up
and saw for the first time the advancing, tri-
umphant traitor host.
First came the cavalry, ''the flower, ''the
chvalry," the aristocracy of the south, spur
red and mounted like the knights of old each
man in his spirit and person, in his dauntless
daring. in his insane devotion to one idea, re-
peating the princely crusader of the middle
ages. They look what they are, high-blooded
high-bred infatuated men, Every eye burns
and scintillates with passion, and its very gilt
ter is the ire of insanity. Then came their
white slaves, true serfs of demoniac masters
fighting in their rear for eternal serfdom,
which they are taught to believe is southern
right, manly independence. On, heller skel-
ter, on the sidewalk, crowding the street,
swarmed aworse than Egyptian plague. Never
until l saw it with my own eyes, did L believe
all that had read of the outward destitution
and degradation of the southern rank and file
a fact. 1t cannot be exaggerated. Gather
the scum of New York from her dirtiest dens
stretch it along the street in its squalor,
filth and Indebtedness, and it would be a
comely sight compared with that presented by
the southern scum in the great army of the
south. The tatters and the skin of the men
were the color of the earth beneath their feet.
Bare-footed, half-naked, foul filling the air
with an unbearable stencil, floating their dirty
banners, gazing, eagerly about with their half
starved faces intent only'on plumber and on
finding something to eat. Thus the deliver
ers Of Maryland, the degenerators of the ma
ton, entered Harpers Ferry.
THE SLAVES AND sLAvE-HUNTERs.
They are accompanied by negroes, the SER
wants of the army, who certainly looked no
more degraded than their Anglo-Saxon mas
tiers. Fast after this mongrel army followed
another of slave-hunters. They had been
waiting at the rear of the battle, that at the
very first opportunity they might follow the
victorious rebels into town and secure their
runaway chattes. Burnley, red-faced farmers,
dressed in the pet rebel color eight gray,)
with broad trimmed white hats, on horses, and
slowed away in ancient chariots, crowded
down the road in hot haste. When | saw
them, l appreciated as l could not before the
terror which had prevailed among the contra
bands-their pteouS CONSERVATION when they
learned that jackson could get in"
A NEGRO woMAN's STORY.
Only the day BEFORE in the middle Of my
room, had stood mulatto woman, with the
imploring mother look in her great dark eyes,
as she moaned: ''Oh, lady, can't you buy
me: If you will only take me north | will
serve You long as l live, and my children
will serve you" 'Why, Ellen" said, 81
can't take myself north, much less you.
Don't you know that the rebels have shut us
in on every side?" "'Deed l know it," she
said, ''but can't you get out somehow? Oh l
pray to de Lord all de time to keep me away
from de southern people. They are such
cruel people, l don't care for myself, but
my little chin. I've had 'leven chil'en; all
dead but four; all died from sutferation,
cause | he'd to work so hard, for massa
couldn't take care of 'em. My oldest, as
nice little girl as you ever see was burned to
death before my eyes, and couldn't do moth
ing fur her. | was a cook, and if | left the
house for a mint to see after my own chin
massa'd whip me; sod missus. Many time
massa throw a stick of wood at my head !;
once one hit me on the back, and l was laid
up a long time, and my little baby died.
never ran away till massa said he was goin' to
sell us all down south, away from the Yam
KEGS. Then | took my baby and walked twen-
ty miles in one night and my husband came
after with the other three l couldn't be sold
away from my cEil'en."
81 have been told, Elem" said, ''that col
Ored mothers do not love their children as
white mothers do, and that it does not grieve
them so very much to part with their babies p
"Oh, never believe that" she exclaimed.
"Colored women do love their children.
Though they don't never take no comfort with
em. Oh, won't you take me and my chiPen
north? an well serve you all de days of our
life" The mother wall in her voice, the
mother love in her eyes, was most piteous,
but for all helping purposes, | was as help
less as herself. By way of consolation,
said "Ihere must be some kind people in
the south, and you are such good servant,
il you are sold away l think you will find a
kind MASTER"
''There may be kind people in the SOUTH"
she moaned, ''but never foun' 'em. They is
all cruel to us poor cOlored folks. Oh, dey
are de cruelest people de cruelest people !
I've never had nothin' but trouble since / was
born into dis world. I'd rather die, and have
my chiren die, than to be sold south. When
/ got here l thought l was safe, and that /
could work for my chil'en the rest of my
life. Now, the cannon is thunderin'. When
l cook their supper, don't know as they
can ever eat it. Jacksons come. l know
he'll get us. My only hope is in de Lord
pray to the Lord Jesus night and day that
He'll help us poor colored people. No body
else can"
When / saw the kidnapping crew march into
town my first thought was Of Ellen. The next
morning, after more than two thousand con-
trabands had been driven from their hiding
places, in the gray light of the dawn | saw Ell
len creeping up under the hill with her baby
in her arms. Poor hunted creature thought
has the Lord she trusts in helped her to es-
capeH That same morning i looked up to
see her again trembling in the middle of the
room. 80, can't you help ?" she excam-
ed, ''cant you help me? and I'll serve you
so well vou'll npver he sorrv Can't Won