The Women of the ConfederacyUnderwood, J. L. (John Levi)
History
The Women of the Confederacy
Underwood, J. L. (John Levi)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Anecdotes; Women -- Confederate States of America
"We are all going to heaven,
Hallelujah!"
At other times when they did go they stood out on the church grounds
and smoked cigarettes. The negro preachers, in nine cases out of ten,
knew nothing and could teach nothing. The aim of most of them seemed
to be to have a happy Sunday religion and enjoy the honor of religious
office and prominence. What a passion this has been with the free
negro. Then the inevitable collection of the preacher, and all would
scatter without a thought of a religion to make good their lives
through the remaining six days of the week. Mrs. Stowe's Topsy said
she did not know anything about herself except, "I specs I growed."
Those young reconstruction negroes just "growed." They "growed"
without law at their so-called homes; they "growed" ignorant of, or
defiant of the laws of the State, and they "growed" without any aim
except self-indulgence in ease and pleasure.
Then there before their eyes rose the Paradise tree of the forbidden
fruit--the white women beyond their reach. There was in every State
the law against intermarriage of the white and black races which stood
and will stand in Median and Persian unchangeableness. Then came,
wherever these young negroes were scattered, at the North as well as
the South, the mighty resolve of passion, pride, and revenge--"these
white women are ours, we are better than they are, they shall not be
monopolized by white men."
The record is awful and the blackest page of American history. This is
the saddest chapter the author has ever written. He has been all his
long life known and recognized by the negroes as one of their best
friends. There is nothing but sorrow in his heart over the wide-spread
demoralization of the negro race. He and all other true Southern men
rejoice over the great progress of the few. He deplores the
enslavement and degradation of the many by whiskey, idleness, and
lust. The strong, young African tiger has been found lurking, not in
American jungles, but in American homes, highways, barns and fields.
His arch crime woman cannot hear named. And to mention it to Southern
men is to make their blood boil in their veins and their brains to
reel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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