The following letter was written by a cotton merchant named P. W. Brown to a friend in New Hampshire where he too was probably raised. His letter is almost wholly devoted to poking fun at the former slaves he encountered in the vicinity of Beaufort, South Carolina.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Beaufort, South Carolina
December 9, 1866

Friend Smith,

It is some time since I promised to write but pardon the omission. Well here I am in the same place waiting for the last picking of cotton which will be about the last of this month. A great many have had cotton on the train. Some few will make money but the most experience will do them good and cotton will be cotton still, with money out of pocket unless the price advances. The Negroes are expert in stealing and generally secure the pound of flesh. This is quite a smart place with 30 or more stores, two hotels and on Saturdays (which is the great day for trade) you would think if let down here that a mighty black cloud was moving to and fro through the principal street, say 20 Negroes to one white. Some of the women with hats and men coats while on some of the plantation the children are bare as the day they were born, but seem to enjoy themselves basking in the sun while some of the elder are not much better off. But time will make it all right. But it will be in the next generation—that is, after being educated. It costs something for a white person to live here among the gentry—$45 per month. But a Negro can live on a crab for a week and take boarders for a month at that.

I stopped about 10 days in the place where I am interested and boarded with them but took my station in the cotton house which is about equal to a stable, but concluded city life was best, so I returned.

Perhaps a short description might be interesting. Well in going over, I got all wet through as the thundering old mule would only walk. Having taken my bed & board with me, of course that did not escape, so I had and excellent bed, little wet though, but never mind that. Did not catch cold so the Negroes went to work & got supper which took about 3 hours. Being a white man, was treated with the greatest of respect and the table was loaded with the best the house afforded. Bill of fare, 1st coffee without milk, 2nd corn bread without butter, 3rd sweet potatoes without anything else. 4th, done and move back. The tables probably had never been washed since Noah went into the ark. The floors of a description not to be mentioned, & for seats, boxes, benches, or perhaps an old chair, old-fashioned fireplaces without andirons & everything cooked in pitch wood smoke. Oh! you ought to have some of their fritters. They are so good with nothing on them.

And then the cooking too. How nice. They will keep dogs. Someone has to watch them so as not to lose it while cooking. After it is taken out of the kettle, the dog licks it out so as to have it clean for the next fritter. The more good things the better you know. The house is in the modern style, standing about 6 feet above ground making an excellent pig pen, hen roost, & privy, for which it is used. Being two story, it accommodates 25 or 30 Negroes of all sorts which sleep on the floor under the bed or anywhere. While the windows are all out which makes it so pleasant during the summer weather. Only the heads of families have beds and but few of them. But I like very well & tell Joseph Burly I think he wouldn’t be homesick if here. Am well. My regards to the young folks and all the rest. Write soon.

Your friend, — P. W. Brown