For a long period Newbern has been the residence of wealthy and influential families.  George Pollock, a descendant of one of the original proprietors, who died some thirty years ago, dwelt there.  He owned immense tracts of the best land in the State, and over a thousand slaves.

There, too, was the home of Judge Gaston, a learned lawyer and a most estimable man, who, though a Roman Catholic, was respected by all sects and conditions, even in those days of fierce sectaries.  John Stanly for a long time gave celebrity to Newbern as a lawyer and legislator, his oratorical powers being second to those of no man in the State.  He was the father of Edward Stanly, now appointed to act as military Governor of the State.

The country around Newbern was originally moderately fertile, but much of it has become exhausted by reason of improper tillage.  The forests which were once a vast extent of stately pines, and from which great quantities of turpentine and tar were for a century and a half exported, are now little better than barren fields.  Pine lumber and staves have long been a large article of export, which with corn and cotton make up nearly all the articles sent abroad.  But the pines are now nearly exhausted, the trade in naval stores and lumber lessened, and in consequence a better state of agriculture has commenced.  It is found that by the aid of fertilizers good crops of cotton can be raised on the pine lands and the fields kept in an improving condition.  For the last thirty years it can hardly be said that the town has improved; indeed, as a whole it has hardly held its own.  Still it is a place of wealth and comfort.  There is an air of respectability in its ancient and stately buildings, its wide streets, and abundant shade-trees, and it is as healthy as any Southern town can be.

Some twenty years ago Newbern had what no other Southern town possessed, a commerce of its own, that is, vessels built, owned, and sailed by its own people.  Many of these—­then engaged in the West-India trade—­were partly manned by slaves who belonged to the proprietors of the vessel or its captain, and at times, when other seamen could not be procured, these slaves were allowed to make a voyage to a Northern port, but as their value yearly augmented, and the risk of their suddenly disappearing, not again to visit ‘Dixie,’ increased in a corresponding ratio, they gradually retired to other duties where their services were less precarious.

And here I will relate an anecdote which an old salt once told me when I was strolling along the wharves of this ancient town in his company.