t yet to the Coffin house, but we shall be established for
the present on one of the smaller plantations adjoining.

The letter that follows, written at Pine Grove several days
later, narrates the events of these days, beginning with
April 16, in Beaufort.

FROM H. W.

_Pine Grove, St. Helena, April 21._ H.[18] and Miss Towne[19] carried
the letters to the post-office, Caroline, Mr. Forbes's chamber-girl,
following to show them the way there, take them to the schools and
into some negro quarters. They were derided by the soldiers, they
said, who called after them, "See the Southern Aristocracy with their
nigger behind them!" which amused Caroline very much.

Mr. Forbes took me in his open wagon, a tumble-down affair he has from
a negro to avoid the annoyance of always having to make a requisition
upon Government, the only owner in these regions of anything, and
drove me down the river to a plantation[20] we had noticed as we came
up on the boat, and where there was a cotton-gin Mr. Forbes wanted me
to see. The greater part of the way our road was shaded by woods on
the water-side, live-oaks with their ornamental moss, gum-trees and
pines with quantities of cat-brier and trumpet honeysuckle in full
bloom. The cotton-fields were unshaded, of course, and very large,
containing from one to three hundred acres. We passed some freshly
planted, but most of them were covered with the old bushes, dry and
dead, at which I was much surprised until I found that it was the
habit to leave the fields as they are after the cotton is picked, for
a year, planting on the same land only every other year. It makes
dreary, desolate-looking fields, for though a few weeds spring up, no
grass grows in this region, and they are brown instead of green all
summer. The Smith Plantation is about five miles from town, the house
in the centre of a live-oak grove, beautiful and beyond description,
open underneath, and so hanging with moss that you can scarcely see
any leaves as you look up. A little chapel on the place I got out to
look at, made very roughly of boards whitewashed, inside an earth
floor covered with straw, rough wooden benches, the pulpit and altar
made in the same way, but covered entirely with the grey moss, as we
trim for Christmas. The house looked rough and ordinary to us, as they
all do, except a few in the town; we did not go in. I believe there
are cotton-agents there attending to the ginning, which process we