A Girl's Life in Virginia before the War Part 2

CHAPTER IV.

The extent of these estates precluding the possibility of near neighbors, their isolation would have been intolerable but for the custom of visiting which prevailed among us. Many houses were filled with visitors the greater part of the year, and these usually remained two or three weeks. Visiting tours were made in our private carriages, each family making at least one such tour a year. Nor was it necessary to announce these visits by message or letter, each house being considered always ready, and "entertaining company" being the occupation of the people. Sometimes two or three carriages might be descried in the evening coming up to the door through the Lombardy poplar avenue,--the usual approach to many old houses; whereupon ensued a lively flutter among small servants, who, becoming generally excited, speedily got them into their clean ap.r.o.ns, and ran to open gates and to remove parcels from carriages. Lady visitors were always accompanied by colored maids, although sure of finding a superfluity of these at each establishment. The mistress of the house always received her guests in the front porch, with a sincere and cordial greeting.

These visiting friends at my own home made an impression upon me that no time can efface. I almost see them now, those dear, gentle faces, my mother's early friends, and those delightful old ladies, in close bordered tarlatan caps, who used to come to see my grandmother. These last would sit round the fire, knitting and talking over their early memories: how they remembered the red coats of the British; how they had seen the Richmond theater burn down, with some of their family burned in it; how they used to wear such beautiful turbans of _crepe lisse_ to the Cartersville b.a.l.l.s, and how they used to dance the minuet. At mention of this my grandmother would lay off her spectacles, put aside her knitting, rise with dignity,--she was very tall,--and show us the step of the minuet, gliding slowly and majestically around the room. Then she would say: "Ah, children, you will never see anything as graceful as the minuet. Such jumping around as _you_ see would not have been regarded as dignified in _my_ day!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY GRANDMOTHER WOULD SHOW US THE STEP OF THE MINUET."--_Page 32._]

My mother's friends belonged to a later generation, and were types of women whom to have known I shall ever regard as a blessing and privilege. They combined intelligence with exquisite refinement; and their annual visits gave my mother the greatest happiness, which we soon learned to share and appreciate.

As I look upon these ladies as models for our s.e.x through all time, I enumerate some of their charms:

Entire absence of pretense made them always attractive. Having no "parlor" or "company" manners to a.s.sume, they preserved at all times a gentle, natural, easy demeanor and conversation. They had not dipped into the sciences, attempted by some of our s.e.x at the present day; but the study of Latin and French, with general reading in their mother tongue, rendered them intelligent companions for cultivated men. They also possessed the rare gift of reading well aloud, and wrote letters unsurpa.s.sed in penmanship and style.

Italian and German professors being rare in that day, their musical acquirements did not extend beyond the simplest piano accompaniments to old English and Scotch airs, which they sang in a sweet, natural voice, and which so enchanted the beaux of their time that the latter never afterward became reconciled to any higher order of music.

These model women also managed their household affairs admirably, and were uniformly kind to, but never familiar with, their servants. They kept ever before them the Bible as their constant guide and rule in life, and were surely, as nearly as possible, holy in thought, word, and deed. I have looked in vain for such women in other lands, but have failed to find them.

Then there were old gentlemen visitors, beaux of my grandmother's day, still wearing queues, wide-ruffled bosoms, short breeches, and knee buckles. These p.r.o.nounced the _a_ very broad, sat a long time over their wine at dinner, and carried in their pockets gold or silver snuffboxes presented by some distinguished individual at some remote period.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THERE WERE OLD GENTLEMEN VISITORS."--_Page 34._]

Our visiting acquaintance extended from Botetourt County to Richmond, and among them were jolly old Virginia gentlemen and precise old Virginia gentlemen; eccentric old Virginia gentlemen and prosy old Virginia gentlemen; courtly old Virginia gentlemen and plain-mannered old Virginia gentlemen; charming old Virginia gentlemen and uninteresting old Virginia gentlemen. Many of them had graduated years and years ago at William and Mary College.

Then we had another set, of a later day,--those who graduated in the first graduating cla.s.s at the University of Virginia when that inst.i.tution was first established. These happened--all that we knew--to have belonged to the same cla.s.s, and often amused us, without intending it, by reverting to that fact in these words:

"_That_ was a remarkable cla.s.s! Every man in that cla.s.s made his mark in law, letters, or politics! Let me see: There was Toombs. There was Charles Mosby. There was Alexander Stuart. There was Burwell. There was R. M. T. Hunter,"--and so on, calling each by name except himself, knowing that the others never failed to do that!

Edgar Poe and Alexander Stephens of Georgia were also at the university with these gentlemen.

Although presenting an infinite variety of mind, manner, and temperament, all the gentlemen who visited us, young and old, possessed in common certain characteristics, one of which was a deference to ladies which made us feel that we had been put in the world especially to be waited upon by them. Their standard for woman was high. They seemed to regard her as some rare and costly statue set in a niche to be admired and never taken down.

Another peculiarity they had in common was a habit--which seemed irresistible--of tracing people back to the remotest generation, and appearing inconsolable if ever they failed to find out the pedigree of any given individual for at least four generations. This, however, was an innocent pastime, from which they seemed to derive much pleasure and satisfaction, and which should not be regarded, even in this advanced age, as a serious fault.

Among our various visitors was a kinsman--of whom I often heard, but whom I do not recollect--a bachelor of eighty years, always accompanied by his negro servant as old as himself. Both had the same name, Louis, p.r.o.nounced like the French, and this aged pair had been so long together they could not exist apart. Black Louis rarely left his master's side, a.s.sisting in the conversation if his master became perplexed or forgetful. When his master talked in the parlor, black Louis always planted his chair in the middle of the doorsill, every now and then correcting or reminding with: "Now, marster, dat warn't Colonel Taylor's horse dat won dat race dat day. You and me was dar."

Or: "Now, marster, you done forgot all 'bout dat. Dat was in de year 1779, an' _dis_ is de way it happened," etc., much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the company a.s.sembled. All this was said, I am told, most respectfully, although the old negro in a manner _possessed_ his master, having entire charge and command of him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "NOW, MARSTER, YOU DONE FORGOT ALL 'BOUT DAT."--_Page 37._]

The negroes often felt great pride in "_our_ white people," as they called their owners, and loved to brag about what "_our_ white people"

did and what "_our_ white people" had.

On one occasion it became necessary for my sister and myself to ride a short distance in a public conveyance. A small colored boy, who helped in our dining room, had to get in the same stage. Two old gentlemen, strangers to us, sitting opposite, supposing we had fallen asleep when we closed our eyes to keep out the dust, commenced talking about us.

Said one to the other: "Now, those children will spoil their Sunday bonnets." Whereupon our colored boy spoke up quickly: "Umph! _you_ think _dems my_ mistesses' Sunday bonnets? Umph! you _jes' ought_ to see what dey got up dar on top de stage in dar bandbox!" At this we both laughed, for the boy had never seen our "Sunday bonnets," nor did he know that we possessed any.

CHAPTER V.

English books never fail to make honorable mention of a "roast of beef," "a leg of mutton," "a dish of potatoes," "a dish of tea," etc., while with us the abundance of such things gave them, we thought, not enough importance to be particularized. Still my reminiscences extend to these.

Every Virginia housewife knew how to compound all the various dishes in Mrs. Randolph's cookery book, and our tables were filled with every species of meat and vegetable to be found on a plantation, with every kind of cakes, jellies, and blanc-mange to be concocted out of eggs, b.u.t.ter, and cream, besides an endless catalogue of preserves, sweetmeats, pickles, and condiments. So that in the matter of good living, both as to abundance and the manner of serving, a Virginia plantation could not be excelled.

The first specialty being good loaf bread, there was always a hot loaf for breakfast, hot corn bread for dinner, and a hot loaf for supper. Every house was famed for its loaf bread, and said a gentleman once to me: "Although at each place it is superb, yet each loaf differs from another loaf, preserving distinct characteristics which would enable me to distinguish, instantly, should there be a convention of loaves, the Oaklands loaf from the Greenfield loaf, and the Avenel loaf from the Rustic Lodge loaf."

And apropos of this gentleman, who, it is needless to add, was a celebrated connoisseur in this matter of loaf bread, it was a noticeable fact with our cook that whenever he came to our house, the bread in trying to do its best always did its worst!

Speaking of bread, another gentleman expressed his belief that at the last great day it will be found that more housewives will be punished on account of light-bread than anything else; for he knew some who were never out of temper except when the light-bread failed!

Time would fail me to dwell, as I should, upon the incomparable rice waffles, and beat biscuit, and m.u.f.fins, and laplands, and marguerites, and flannel cakes, and French rolls, and velvet rolls, and lady's fingers constantly brought by relays of small servants, during breakfast, hot and hotter from the kitchen. Then the tea-waiters handed at night, with the beef tongue, the sliced ham, the grated cheese, the cold turkey, the dried venison, the loaf bread b.u.t.tered hot, the batter-cakes, the crackers, the quince marmalade, the wafers,--all pa.s.s in review before me.

The first time I ever heard of a manner of living different from this was when it became important for my mother to make a visit to a great-aunt in Baltimore, and she went for the first time out of her native State; as neither she nor her mother had ever been out of Virginia. My mother was accompanied by her maid, Kitty, on this expedition, and when they returned both had many astounding things to relate. My grandmother threw up her hands in amazement on hearing that some of the first ladies in the city, who visited old aunt, confined the conversation of a morning call to the subject of the faults of their hired servants. "Is it possible?" exclaimed the old lady. "I never considered it well bred to mention servants or their faults in company."

Indeed, in our part of the world, a mistress became offended if the faults of her servants were alluded to, just as persons become displeased when the faults of their children are discussed.

Maid Kitty's account of this visit I will give, as well as I can remember, in her own words, as she described it to her fellow-servants: "You nuver see sich a way fur people to live! Folks goes to bed in Baltimore 'thout a single moufful in de house to eat. An' dey can't get nothin' neither 'thout dey gits up soon in de mornin' an'

goes to market after it deyselves. Rain, hail, or shine, dey got to go. 'Twouldn't suit _our_ white folks to live dat way! An' I wouldn't live dar not for nothin' in dis worl'. In dat fine three-story house dar aint but bar' two servants, an' dey has to do all de work.

'Twouldn't suit _me_, an' I wouldn't live dar not for nothin' in dis whole creation. I would git _dat_ lonesome I couldn't stan'

it. Bar' two servants! an' dey calls deyselves rich, too! An' dey cooks in de cellar. I know mistess couldn't stan' dat--smellin'

everyt'ing out de kitchen all over de house. Umph! _dem_ folks don't know nothin' _'tall_ 'bout good livin', wid dar cold bread an' dar rusks!"

Maid Kitty spoke truly when she said she had never seen two women do all the housework. For at home often three women would clean up one chamber. One made the bed, while another swept the floor, and a third dusted and put the chairs straight. Labor was divided and subdivided; and I remember one woman whose sole employment seemed to be throwing open the blinds in the morning and rubbing the posts of my grandmother's high bedstead. This rubbing business was carried quite to excess. Every inch of mahogany was waxed and rubbed to the highest state of polish, as were also the floors, the bra.s.s fenders, irons, and candlesticks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THREE WOMEN WOULD CLEAN UP ONE CHAMBER."--_Page 43._]

When I reflect upon the degree of comfort arrived at in our homes, I think we should have felt grateful to our ancestors; for, as Quincy has written: "In whatever mode of existence man finds himself, be it savage or civilized, he perceives that he is indebted for the greater part of his possessions to events over which he had no control; to individuals whose names, perhaps, never reached his ear; to sacrifices which he never shared. How few of all these blessings do we owe to our own power or prudence! How few on which we cannot discern the impress of a long past generation!" So we were indebted for our agreeable surroundings to the heroism and sacrifices of past generations, which not to venerate and eulogize betrays the want of a truly n.o.ble soul.

For what courage, what patience, what perseverance, what long suffering, what Christian forbearance, must it have cost our great-grandmothers to civilize, Christianize, and elevate the naked, savage Africans to the condition of good cooks and respectable maids!

They--our great-grandmothers--did not enjoy the blessed privilege even of turning their servants off when inefficient or disagreeable, but had to keep them through life. The only thing was to bear and forbear, and

Be to their virtues very kind, Be to their faults a little blind.

If in heaven there be one seat higher than another, it must be reserved for those true Southern matrons, who performed conscientiously their part a.s.signed them by G.o.d--civilizing and instructing this race.

I have searched missionary records of all ages, but find no results in Africa or elsewhere at all comparing with the grand work accomplished for the African race in our Southern homes.

Closing the last chapter of "Explorations in the Dark Continent," the thought came to me that it would be well if our African friends in America would set apart another anniversary to celebrate "the landing of their fathers on the sh.o.r.es of America," when they were bought and domiciled in American homes. This must have been G.o.d's own plan for helping them, although a severe ordeal for our ancestors.

In G.o.d's own time and way the shackles have been removed from this people, who are now sufficiently civilized to take an independent position in the great family of man.

However we may differ in the opinion, there is no greater compliment to Southern slave-owners than the idea prevailing in many places that the negro is already sufficiently elevated to hold the highest positions in the gift of our government.

I once met in traveling an English gentleman who asked me: "How can you bear those miserable black negroes about your houses and about your persons? To me they are horribly repulsive, and I would not endure one about me."

"Neither would they have been my choice," I replied. "But G.o.d sent them to us. I was born to this inheritance and could not avert it.

What would you English have done," I asked, "if G.o.d had sent them to you?"