126 Singing Valleys 



or yellow. Yellow meant calicoes and linsey-woolsey, lute- 

 strings and broadcloth. Red meant salt and molasses, tea, 

 spices. It meant Sandwich glass and Britannia-ware teapots 

 with the familiar stamp, "New Britain, Conn." on the under- 

 sides. 



All these could be bought for corn, bacon, pork or lard, or 

 for Ohio maple sugar and syrup. 



Many of the boats had stills aboard and sold Pennsylvania 

 rye whiskey at a quarter a quart. 



"Say the word, farmer. If ye hain't got two bits, buy your 

 rye with corn. Corn'll sell in N'Orleans." 



Everything, apparently, would sell in New Orleans. Spain 

 had signed an agreement granting Americans the right to clear 

 their produce through that port free. The Mississippi leading 

 from the farms to this market port was the most important 

 road in the country. Benjamin Franklin had foreseen this. Give 

 up our rights to the Mississippi and the entry to the Gulf? 

 "I would as soon think of selling my neighbor my front door." 

 Ships from New England waited in New Orleans for cargoes 

 of produce to take to the cities on the Atlantic seaboard and 

 to the West Indies. The largest part of the products, carried 

 by American ships about the world, was agricultural. 



"What's it like, down to N'Orleans?" the women asked 

 curiously. 



And the river boatmen told of Spanish fiestas and carnival 

 processions, of wide-galleried plantation houses, of Creole 

 beauties languishing on their balconies, of liveoaks trailing 

 gray Spanish moss and crepe myrtles, and orange and lemon 

 trees in flower. 



'That's what N'Orleans is like, Ma'am." 



To the farmers they spoke otherwise: "They say down-river 

 the French are dickerin' to take back N'Orleans. Things ain't 

 the same down there. You can't trust the Spanish varmints. 

 Look at how they tried to get their hands on Kaintuck. Re- 

 member what Gordoqui said? 'As long as Kaintuck's in the 

 Union, we won't give you free navigation on the river.' Well, 



