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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Chapter army life and camp drill (search)
been slyly criticizing her all the while for an inelegance which was serious enough from their point of view to remain a tradition of her for twenty years. . . . All these women had husbands or sons in this regiment, whom they came to visit; one is the mother of Sammy Roberts, the youth who speculated on the taillessness of the Yankees. This boy, according to Army life in a black regiment, was puzzled to find no proof of his master's statement that the Northern soldiers had tails. April 21 . . . It is not uncommon, in riding about the plantations, to find three or four mere babies, from three to six years old, seriously shouting on a doorstep. I have noticed, too, that the one pet song of these children is almost always the most grimly melodramatic of the elder incantations. What make old Satan for follow me so? Satan ain't got not'ina to do wid me! （Chorus) Hold your light! Hold your light! Hold your light on Canaan's shore. It seems pathetic that these little innoce
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Chapter 7: Cambridge in later life (search)
mother says that they were both born with a veil over their eyes, but whether this is meant literally or symbolically I do not know. Two letters that follow were written during the Ogden educational trip of 1904. Fortress Monroe, Virginia, April 21 . . A fine meeting in a great gymnasium with a great army of pupils all singing in a superbly rousing way the negro spirituals I love. The leader, a magnificently big and strong fellow, could fill the Stadium, I think, with his voice alone. speeches, and one superb one from a Richmond professor, wholly modern and enthusiastic in new thoughts . . . Last evening we had jovial story-telling in which the Virginians beat out and out and Yankees were nowhere. Rock Hill, South Carolina, April 21 In the afternoon we rode in sight of the Blue Ridge, through woods lighted up by the starry dogwood, over the poorest land in the South, 't was said. We saw old deserted cotton-fields, with dry stalks and pods .... Here and there a solitary