, was not going the way I intended to take, so I was forced to seek a conveyance at a livery-stable. At the only livery establishment in the place, kept by a "cullud pusson," who, though a slave, owns a stud of horses that might, among a people more movingly inclined, yield a respectable income, I found what I wanted--a light Newark buggy, and a spanking gray. Provided with these, and a darky driver, who was to accompany me to my destination, and return alone, I started. A trip of seventy miles is something of an undertaking in that region, and quite a crowd gathered around to witness our departure, not a soul of whom, I will wager, will ever hear the rumble of a stage-coach, or the whistle of a steam-car, in those sandy, deserted streets.
We soon left the village, and struck a broad avenue, lined on either side by fine old trees, and extending in an air-line for several miles. The road is skirted by broad rice-fields, and these are dotted here and there by large antiquated houses, and little
Writing under the pseudonym Edmund Kirke, James Gilmore makes the case for the abolition of slavery by describing a trip he made through South and North Carolina at the time that Mr. Lincoln forced the states into war by attempting to resupply Fort Sumter following South Carolina's approval of their Act of Secession from the Union.
His hatred of slavery is plain, as it should be. His pontification about how Yankees were better people than Southerners is incorrect. His predictions of how a Yankee descent upon the South would make everything better are imbecilic.
His use of certain terms and words, proper (though denigrating) when written, have become horribly improper since that time and detract greatly from what might otherwise have proven a useful period study.