Britannia smiles on DAVIS now, And blesses all his bayonets; There was a time when on _our_ brow She set the shame of Southern debts: _We_ wore the chain--we dragged the ball-- And we may thank the South for all. Men spoke of slaves in bitter tone, When pointing to the stripes and stars; 'The constellation is your own, The negro gets the bloody scars, And yet of equal rights you bawl!' Well--we may thank the South for all. They stole our starlight--made us blind, As did of old the Norland elves: Prometheus stole it--for mankind, But they--they kept it for themselves, And held us like their slaves in thrall-- And we--we thanked them for it all. Thank GOD! the pact is rent in twain! Thank GOD! the light is all our own! We've burst the bonds and rent the chain, And drawn the sword, unhelped, alone: And, holding Freedom's carnival, We'll thank the South for that and all. The morning-red is on our brow, The brand, the curse grows pale with night; The sword is in our hands, and now All gleams in glory's golden light: We're _free_! Ye nations, hear the call-- We see! and now thank GOD for all! A MERCHANT'S STORY. 'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.' CHAPTER VII. It was nine o'clock at night, when the stage halted before the door of that purgatory for Southern pilgrims, the 'Washington House,' Newbern. As we dismounted from the box, Preston said to me: 'You order supper and a room, while I attend to Phyllis and the chidren. I'll join you presently.' Seeing that our luggage was safely deposited on the piazza, I entered the hotel in quest of the landlord. The 'office' was a long, low, dingy apartment, with tobacco-stained floor, blackened ceiling, and greasy brown walls, ornamented here and there with advertisements of runaway slaves, auction notices of 'mules, negroes, and other property,' a few dusty maps, and a number of unframed wood cuts of prominent political characters. Among the latter, Calhoun, in bristling hair, cadaverous face, and high shirt collar, looked 'the unkindest cut of all.' Behind the bar, which extended across the further end of the room, was drawn up a whole regiment of glass decanters, and stout black bottles, full of spirit, and ready for active service. A generous wood fire roared and crackled on a broad hearthstone, and in a semi circle around it, in every conceivable attitude, were collected about twenty planters' sons, village shopkeepers, turpentine farmers, itinerant horse dealers, and cattle drovers. Some had their heels a trifle higher than their heads, some were seated on the knees of others, some were lounging on the arms of chairs, and some were stretched at full length on a pile of trunks near by; but all were too much engaged in smoking, expectorating, and listening to a horse-trading narrative, which one of their number was relating, to heed my entrance.