On the other hand, the people had many complaints of insubordination, so great that they were in actual fear for the lives of their families! Some of the newspapers thought “the scenes of bloodshed and massacre of St. Domingo would be re-enacted in their midst, before the close of the year.” “We speak advisedly,” continued one frightened editor, “we have authentic information of the speeches and conversation of the blacks, sufficient to convince us of their purpose. _They make no secret of their movement._ Tell us not that we are alarmists. After due investigation and reflection upon this matter, we have determined to talk plainly, without fear or favor, and if our voice of warning is not heeded, we, at least, will have the consoling reflection that we have performed our duty.” All this silly talk was, doubtless, utterly without foundation. Negroes neglected to touch their hats to overseers or former masters whom they disliked; and straightway it was announced that they were growing too saucy for human endurance. They held meetings and sung songs about their freedom, whereupon it was conjectured that they were plotting for a rising against the whites. They refused to be beaten; and, behold, the grossest insubordination was existing among the negroes.[57] Near the ruins of the Selma armory was a village of huts, filled with the lowest order of plantation negroes. One or two were riding about on abandoned Government horses; more were idly watching them. They were “’joying their freedom.” A little round furnace stood some distance from the huts. At its mouth sat an old negro, far gone with fever and greatly emaciated. His story was a simple one. He had been sent here, by his master, from Northern Alabama, to work for the Government. Yankees had come along, and his paper to go home (his transportation) done wuf nothing no more. He begged a little, picked up a little, slept in the furnace, and so got along. He might last through the winter, but it was very doubtful. He was, apparently, sixty or seventy years old, and there was not a soul, black or white, to care for him. Most of the negroes congregated here had either been sent to work in the Rebel shops, or had come since the end of the war to “’joy their freedom.” “You were just as free at home as here,” I said to one who had patched up an abandoned tent, under which he lived. “But I’s want to be free man, cum when I please, and nobody say nuffin to me, nor order me roun’.” “De Lo’d tole we to come heah,” another said. “De Lo’d him’ll take car’ ob us now.” ----- Footnote 55: Professor of Mineralogy and Geology in the University of Pennsylvania. Footnote 56: Negroes are required to travel in very bad cars, often in freight cars, or on open platforms; but they are charged full first-class fares. Now and then a negro objects, but is always silenced by a short argument. “You’re free, aint you? Good as white folks, aint ye! Then pay the same fare, and keep your mouth shut.”