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A 


S^^        J 


^^^2 


J^y-y^^      A  /  V 


/ 


JOTTINGIS 


OF 


A  YEAR'S  SOJOUEN  IN  THE  SOUTH; 


o  R 


FIRST    IMPRESSIONS 


OF  THE 


COUNTRY  AND  ITS  PEOPLE; 


WITH 


A  GLIMPSE  AT  SCHOOL-TEACHING 


I  N 


THAT    SOUTHERN    LAND, 


AND 


REMINISCENCES  OF  DISTINGUISHED  MEN. 


B  Y 


A.  DE  PUY  VAN  BUREN. 


"To  thee,  perchance,  this  rambling  strain    »  j 

Kecalls  our  summer  walks  again ;  >  ' 

The  wild  unbounded  hills  we  ranged, 

"While  oft  our  talk  its  topic  changed. 

And,  desultory  as  our  way. 

Hanged,  unconfined,  from  grave  to  gay." 


J  .  >  »  •       ^      >  J     ' 


>  9  ' 

>  «   i  1 


J  »     >  J   .1 


y  3 
>      J 

,      >    3     >     i  3 


BATTLE  CREEK,  MICHIGAN 


1859. 


flecked 


THE  NEWYORK' 

PUBLIC  LI  BR  A.RY| 
202507 

ASTCR-LF.NOX  AND 
TILPEN  FCUNDATIONS. 

R        1900.       L 


Enteved,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859, 
By  a.  DE  PUY  van  BUREN 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

District  of  Michigan. 


.     «  '         '  ,     [  ':     'RittiKw  Axn  Herald  Puixt: 


t.      (   t  . 


I     C    »     t        «      I     L 

1    C  C   I        I.      '  I  I 


Battle  Creek. 


r 


TO 

MAJOR   W.   W.   WILDY, 
JOHN   S.   PAUL  AND    H.    BARKSDALE, 

WORTHY    SOUTHERN    PLANTERS    AND    GENTLEMEN, 

THE  PLEASURE  AND  DELIGHT  OF  A  SOJOURN 
IN    WHOSE    HOMES    WE    SHALL    LONG 
OHEEISH     IN     PLEASING     RE- 
MEMBRANCE, 

THIS  VOLUME 
IS  MOST  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED 

BY  THEIR  FRIEND 

THE   AUTHOR. 


PREFACE 


In  presenting  this  volume  to  the  public  we  do  not  suppose  that  we 
are  adding  to  the  number  of 

"Books  which  are  books;" 

we  have  not  entertained  a  doubt  but  what  we  shall  have  the  old  trick 
of  Diluvian  Noah  memory  played  upon  us — that  our  little  "Dove-of-a 
volume"  will  come  back  to  us  from  its  disappointed  errand.  "  Then  why 
do  you  send  it  out  on  this  mission  ?"  For  pretty  much  the  same  reason 
that  Noah  did  the  dove — on  an  errand  of  discovery.  We  expect,  if  it 
reaches  a  certain  terra  incognita — a  land  unknown  to  us — nothing  short 
of  fame.  If  not,  we  are  consigned  to  the  dusty  immortality  of  the 
shelves.  The  author  may  write,  but  it  is  the  people  that  make  the 
book.  But  between  him  and  the  people  lurks  the  critic-cat,  ever  ready 
to  pounce  upon,  and  devour  whatever  passes  from  the  one  to  the  other. 
Should  this  volume  succeed  in  reaching  its  destination,  to  its  recipients 
we  have  a  word  to  say: 

First,  we  propose  to  let  these  pages  go  for  what  they  are  worth ;  we 
certainly  would  prefer  not  to  say  another  word  about  them;  would 
give  more  to  be  in  your  presence  incognito,  when  you  had  finished 
reading  this  volume,  and  hear  the  praise  or  censure,  that  you  would 
give  without  reading  a  preface,  in  which  the  author  has  explained  a  way 
for  you  to  praise  him.     Because  if  you  praised  at  all,  it  would  be  from 


VI  PREFACE. 

W 
merit  found.     Yet    the  nature  of  the  work   calls  for  a  few   words  in 

prelude. 

The  book  is  what  it  purports  to  be,  "Jottings  of  a  Year's  Sojourn  in 
the  South  "' — our  first  impressions  of  the  country  and  its  people,  given 
in  a  style  more  or  less  sketchy.  A  large  share  of  the  work  was  first 
presented  to  the  public,  in  a  series  of  sketches  and  jottings,  through  the 
columns  of  the  Battle  Creek  (Michigan)  Journal',  and  at  the  close  of 
their  publication  in  that  paper,  we  were  urged  by  many  friends  to  put 
them  in  the  more  durable  form  of  a  book.  Hence,  having  yielded  to 
their  solicitations  and  our  own  vanity,  the  reader  is  in  possession  not 
only  of  such  a  volume  as  the  original  sketches  would  have  formed,  but 
one  of  twice  the  size.  Our  intention  has  been  to  give  him  a  pleasant 
volume  filled  with  the  pleasant  memories  of  a  pleasant  land. 

In  regard  to  praising  the  South — which  we  have  a  most  inalienable 
right  to  do,  when  and  wherever  we  think  she  deserves  it — we  have 
certainly  written  with  perfect  disregard  to  political  prejudice,  as  if 
Slavery  did  not  exist  in  our  Southern  Border. 

We  are  not  like  I  ago — 

"  Nothing,  if  not  critical." 

But  we  have  given  our  impressions,  if  glowingly  at  times,  we  trust 
truthfully. 

There  is  a  poetic  period  in  our  early  life,  and  a  most  happy  one  it  is, 
too.  And  there  are  poetic  hours  in  one's  after  life — moods  full  of  nature, 
into  which  one  often  falls,  and  in  which  the  truths  of  a  scene  impress 
one  with  their  full  charm.  If  there  arc  any  scenes  in  these  Jottings 
that  are  thought  to  be  drawn  coleur  de  rose,  we  would  say  that  they  have 
been  taken  on  the  spot,  in  moods  we  have  described,  when  we  received 
their  impressions  coleur  de  nature  ;  and  besides  they  were  new  scenes  to 
us,  and  written  during  the  full  glow  of  first    conceptions.     Moreover, 


PREFACE.  VU 

many  of  the  subjects  and  scenes  we  have  noticed,  will  sustain  some 
considerable  glow  of  enthusiasm. 

For  the  reminiscences  we  do  not  claim  completeness  of  portrait — 
merely  give  them  as  reminiscences,  and  only  claim  for  them  the  merit  of 
their  being  valuable  from  the  fact  that  they  are  what  the  people  remem- 
bered of  their  distinguished  men :  and  they  take  their  tone  and  color 
from  the  manner  in  which  we  have  heard  them  spoken  of.  We  are 
indebted  for  much  that  is  valuable  in  these  reminiscences,  to  Hon.  H. 
Barksdale,  of  Oak  Valley,  Banks  of  the  Yazoo. 

To  the  Messrs.  White  and  Smith,  of  the  Eevieti-  SLud  Herald o&ce.  we 

are  also  much  indebted  for  many  acts  of  kindness  during  our  connection 

with  their  office,  and  to  the  lady  of  the  latter  for  many  timely  hints  in 

revising  and  correcting  this  work,  as  it  passed  through  the  press. 

A.  DE  PUY  VAN  BUREN. 

Farm-Home.  Battle  Creeks 
October  ZOth,  1859. 


ONE  WORD. 

There  are  some  typographical  errors  in  this  work,  which  have  es- 
caped our  attention  in  reading  proof,  such  as  "whining  machinery,"  for 
whirring  machinery,  "vulgars,"  for  and  the  vulgns,  "physiological 
reading,"  for  physiognomical  reading,  "Cote,"  for  Cato,  and  others 
which  we  trust  will  sufficiently  explain  themselves. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

Leaving  Home, U 

Chicago — Ride  over  prairie  Illinois — St,  Louis. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Passage  DOWN  THE  Mississippi,    19 

River-Scenes  and  Sketches — Vicksburgh — Passage  up  the 
Yazoo. 

Arcadian  Scenery. 

CHAPTER  III. 

SaTARTIA  ON  THE  BaNKS  OF  THE  YaZOO, o7 

A  Southern  town  with  its  Inn — Plantation  scenes — Day-dream 
of  life  realized — My  first  meal  with  a  planter,  and  first  ac- 
quaintance witli  Southern  manners. 


u 


CHAPTER  IV. 
First  Impressions  of  the  Country, 47 

CHAPTER  V. 

First  Day's  Adventure  in  search  of  a  School, 54 

The  school-teacher — Mechanicsburgh — Domine  Sampson. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Second  Day's  Adventure,  tiT 

Calling  a-horseback  round  among  planters — Dover — A  Con- 
ference, &c. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Southern  Life — The  People  and  more  of  the  Country,  81 

Major  W. — The  Ridge  House — my  first  home  in  the  South — 
Habits  of  the  people  and  peculiarities  of  the  country — Wild 
boar  hunt,  &c.,  &c. 


• 


CONTENTS.  IX 

• . 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Second  Adventure, 95 

A  carriage  ride — Rose  Hill  plantation — A  petite  School-house 
— Bellevue  Academy. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Church  in  the  Woods,    101 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Series  OF  Adventures  WITH  AN  Episode,   ,.  ...  104 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Holidays  South, 114 

"Chrismas  Gift'' — The  Negro  a  true  Frolicker — Merry-mak- 
ing— "Cousin  Jerry" — The  Alarm — A  wedding  among  the  Ne- 
groes— "New  Year's  Gift,  &c.,  &c. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Last  Adventure, 124 

Finding  the  prize — Another  Episode. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Patrons  of  our  School  and  their  Homes,   133 

Oak  Valley, -....: 133 

Willow  Dale,   134 

Pfcough  and  Ready 135 

An  Evening  Party  at  Rough  and  Ready. 

A  Pe^j^e  <'Iranistan."     139 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
The  South  from  Another  Stand-Point 140 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Southern  seasons 145 

Winter 145 

Spring 147 

Summer 148 

Flood  along  the  Yazoo  Valley,  &c 152 

Autumn  157 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Life  at  Willow  Dale 159 

Serenade — Our  little  Academy  and  its  Pupils,  &c.,  &c. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Fragments, 171 

A  Chesterfield  of  a  Landlord 172 

The  Negroes  and  the  Bees 173 

The  North 175 

A  day  in  a  Pantomimic  world 176 


X  CONTENTS. 

Willow  Dale  in  a  rain-shower 170 

The  long-expected  visit 180 

Mr.  B.s  residence — attending  Church  in  Yazoo  City 183 

The  Negros  horse ^ 18o 

Our  noctes  Anibrosiani^  at  Willow  Dale    180 

A  Cypress  Swamp 195 

Chameleons.  Snakes.  Reptiles  and  Midges 197 

The  Culminating  day  of  a  Southern  Winter  198 

An  old  Schoolmate 199 

The  Yazoo  River  and  Valley     201i 

Y'azoo  City    205 

Willow  Dale  Plantation      206 

Cotton  planting  and  Cane-Brakes 209 

A  Fashionable  Call  South 211 

The  Fourteenth  Dav  of  Winter 212 

CHArTER    XVIII. 

The  SorTHEEX  Lady 214 

The  Southern-  Gextlemax ...   231 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Stray  Leaves 236 

To  Miss  Jennie  B 236 

Miss  Sallie  P.  and  Mary,  her  little  Black  Maid  of  honor 240 

A  Romaunt.     ..*. 243 

The  Xorthern  School-girl  who  wished  to  be  put  in  r.y  book.  249 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Reminiscexces 251 

Old  Governor  Cowles  Mead  and  Aaron  Burr 252 

Georse  M.  Poindexter .• 258 

Henry  S.  Foote 261 

General  Quitman    264 

Joseph  Holt 267 

George  D.  Prentice 269 

Hon.  S.  S.  Prentiss 275 

Colonel  McClung 294 

Colonel  Jefferson  Davis 303 

Mike  Fink 305 

Pseudo-Mike   Fink 312 

Farewell  to  the  South 314 


JOTTINGS 


OF 


A  YEAR'S  SOJOUKX  IX  THE  SOUTE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  Go,  and  beneath  yon  Southern  skv 
A  plaided  stranger  roam.     *    *    * 
****** 

Go,  and  to  check  thy  wandering  course. 
Quaff  from  the  fountain  at  the  source." 

Scott. 

My  trunks  had  been  packed,  the  ''good-byes"  had  been 
given,  and  I  had  couched  down,  for  it  was  getting  deep  into 
the  evening,  to  take  a  little  rest,  previous  to  my  leaving 
home  on  the  12  o'clock  train. 

An  hour  before  midnight  my  brother  ;iwoke  me ;  we 
went  over  to  the  depot,  and  soon  the  train  came  nmibUng 
in  from  the  east.  There  was  one  ''good  bye"  yet  to  be 
given — the  final  one  to  my  brother — and  all  of  the  others 
that  had  been  given,  were  in  it.  Uttering  this,  was  part- 
ing from  friends  and  home  again,  and  all  at  once.  The 
bell  rancr — the  arood  bve  was  said — ^mv  brother  left  the 
cars.  As  he  left,  he  said  something  to  me  that  then  ap- 
peared of  not  much  consequence,  but  which,  lingering  in 
mv  mind,  I  afterwards  realized  to  be  this  crood  advice : — 


12  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"Make  no  man  your  confidential  friend;  trust  none, 
and  none  will  deceive  you." 

On  we  went.  I  was  alone  among  strangers.  The  first 
moment  I  felt  all  the  sadness  of  leaving  home  weighing  up- 
on me.  I  essayed  to  throw  it  off — it  yielded  an  instant, 
then  came  back  with  heavier  force.  A  gentleman  by  my 
side,  who  had  observed  our  parting,  tried  to  engage  in  con- 
versation, as  if  to  cheer  me  up  ;  but  it  was  dull  talking  with 
me.  I  however  rallied  at  length,  and  began  to  talk  ;  but 
every  now  and  then  I  felt  all  the  love  of  home  one  ever 
feels  on  leaving  it. 

Ah !  this  is  the  time  when  one  rightly  estimates  and 
loves  brothers — sisters — parents — home.  But  away  we 
go  from  them. 

"  Galesburgh  !  "  shouts  the  conductor  as  we  come  near 
that  place.  A  rustle  among  the  passengers  ;  one  man  gets 
off,  and  on  we  go  again. 

"Kalamazoo!"  cries  out  the  conductor;  satchels  are 
siezed,  three  ox  four  get  off,  several  get  on,  and  away  we 
speed. 

"Paw  Paw!"  "Decatur!"  "  Dowagiac  !  "  "]S"iles!" 
are  each  cried  out  in  succession,  almost  ere  the  sound  of 
the  preceding  one  had  died  away. 

This  is  not  traveling,  but  only  stopping  at  places.  I  have 
traveled  this  road  once,  in  the  old,  slow,  rocking  stage- 
coach, when  time  and  distance  had  their  tedium,  and  when 
the  winding  of  the  stage-horn  heralded  your  coming  into 
these  villages,  or  into  the  newer  ones  that  had  sprung  up 
here  in  this  western  land,  almost  with  the  magic  of  wild 
flowers,  along  the  old  territorial  road. 

But  now,  instead  of  the  twanging  stage-horn,  the  shrill 
piping  of  the  steam-car,  as  we  rush  with  the  speed  of  the 
-wind  from  place  to  place,  warns  the  villager  and  the  ex- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  IS 

pectant  traveler,  of  its  coming — warns  for  relay  men,  not 
horses  ;  steam  has  been  harnessed  in  iron  bands  and 

"  Chain'd  to  the  flying  car," 

But  here  we  are  !     We  have  outstripped  the  night  and 

overtaken  the  dawn  of  day  at  Michigan  City ;  the  people 

have  just  risen  and  come  about  the  depot  rubbing  their 

eyes. 

Those  large  outspreading  flats  and  marshes  that  preface 

your  entrance  into  Chicago,  tire  the  vision  ;  but  when  you 
arrive  at  that  city,  the  eye  finds  glad  and  delightful  objects 
to  rest  on,  along  Michigan  Avenue,  that  most  neat,  taste- 
ful and  elegant  street  of  residences.  Its  shrubbery  was  in 
its  autumn  hues.  The  dwellings  seemed  to  vie  with  each 
other  in  beauty  of  structure,  style  and  ornamental  finish- 
ings. 

Morning  came  in,  in  all  its  glory,  as  we  rode  along  this 
avenue.  Seeing  this  fine  street,  all  aglow  with  the  purple 
and  gold  of  sunrise,  like  reading  a  beautiful  line  of  poetry, 
afi'ects  one  as  a  joy  forever. 

Getting  out  of  the  cars  in  that  "Mammoth  Cave" — the 
Central  Depot — one  would  think  that  the  builders  of  Babel 
had  just  found  out  that  they  could  not  understand  each 
other,  and  had  met  here  in  "  confused  conclave"  to  recon- 
cile the  jargon  of  their  tongues  ;  but  failing  to  accomplish 
it,  each  one  was  screaming  at  the  top  of  his  voice  to  be 
heard.  '  * 

In  half  an  hour,  myself,  effects  and  fortunes,  were  em- 
barked upon  the  Illinois  Central  train  for  St.  Louis. 

Now  for  a  ride  over  the  heaven-wide  prairies  of  Illinois. 
In  an  hour  or  two,  like  a  vessel  on  the  bosom  of  calm  old 
Ocean,  we  were  moving  on  o'er  a  vast  and  boundless  plain. 
The  old  Scotch  tourist  was  right  when  he  said  that  "  Na- 
ture kept  these  magnificent  prairies  to  whip  creation  with." 


14  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR'S 

We  passed  some  fine  villages,  that  looked  like  "sweet 
Auburns"  scattered  over  this  interminable  prairie  ;  for  we 
rode  all  day  and  all  night  till  the  next  morning,  over  prai- 
rie, prairie,  nothing  but  prairie !  and  most  of  the  route, 
without  a  lad?/  in  the  car.  It  was  like  a  spring  without 
flowers — autumn  without  her  rosemaries,  hollies  and  myr- 
tles. But  though  we  had  slow  traveling,  we  had  kind  con- 
ductors over  this  Prairie  State. 

Crossing  the  ferry  at  Illinoistown,  we  were  soon  whirled 
up  into  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  and  stepped  out  of  the  hack 
and  into  the  Planter's  House  just  as  grey  morning  was 
streaking  the  dappled  east. 

St.  Louis  was  settled  in  1664 — six  years  earlier  than 
Detroit.  In  1820  it  had  some  five  thousand  inhabitants  ; 
now  it  claims  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand.  Its  com- 
merce, as  an  inland  town,  rivals  the  world.  It  is  the  nat- 
ural depot  of  the  vast  and  fertile  regions  watered  by  the 
Missouri,  the  upper  Mississippi,  the  Illinois  and  their  trib- 
utaries. Its  levee  is  a  limestone  bank,  solidly  paved  for 
over  two  miles,  and  its  whole  length  is  alive  with  the  stir 
and  strife  of  business. 

By  mistake  I  had  gone  to  the  Planter's  House  while  my 
trunks  had  been  checked  to  the  Barnum  House.  Both 
buildings  are  of  massive  structure.  As  soon  as  it  was  day- 
dawn  I  went  in  search  of  my  trunks.  Found  them  at  Bar- 
num's — one  injured  very  much. 

Solidity  and  grandeur  characterize  this  city.  Its  high 
and  grand  buildings  tower  above  you,  as  you  walk  along  its 
narrow  streets.  But  I  don't  know  where  I  have  met  a 
more  intellectual,  business,  healthy  looking  people  than  are 
passing  and  re-passing  me  in  throngs.  Ladies  of  beauty,  in 
all  the  splendor  of  dress,  and  countenances  flushed  with 
health.     After  breakfast,  with  an  old  citizen,  I  went  about 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  15 

the  city,  not  undertaking  to  "do  it,"  for  it  is  six  miles 
long  and  five  wide,  but  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  interior. 

The  City  Hall  is  a  splendid  edifice  of  brick  ;  so  is  Ver- 
anda Hall,  with  its  veranda  style.  The  Presbyterian 
Church  is  a  large,  well  finished  building,  occupying  an  el- 
igible site  on  the  high  grounds  of  the  city,  surrounded 
with  ornamental  trees.  The  Unitarian  Church  is  of  taste- 
ful architecture.  The  Court  House  is  after  the  style  of 
the  capitol  at  Washington.  My  friend  remarked  that  he 
had  heard  Tom  Bentox  make  many  a  speech  in  it. 

As  we  passed  by  the  St.  Louis  University — a  Catholic 
school — I  thought  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  the  founder  of  the 
Jesuits,  and  that  celebrated  maxim  of  his  :   "  Give  me  the 
teaching  of  the  child,  and  I  care  not  who  preaches  to  him." 
But  the  Roman  Catholic  Cathedral  attracted  my  atten- 
tion most.     This  is  a  very  large    and  splendid  pile.     It 
has  a  peal  of  six  bells  in  its  steeple,  the  three  largest  of 
which  weigh  nearly  three  thousand   pounds    each.     The 
front  of  the  building  is  of  polished  free-stone,  Avith  a  por- 
tico of  four  massive,  Doric  columns.     The  interior  is  splen- 
didly finished  and  furnished,    containing  several  elegant 
paintings  of  celebrated  masters.     I  spent  an  hour  or  more 
in  it.     Here,  as  I  leaned  against  one  of  its  massive  pillars, 
and  looked  about  me  and  saw  the  meaning  of  those  hith- 
erto unmeaning  terms,  the  "nave,"  the  "transept,"  and 
the  "choy:,"  I  thought  of  all  I  had  read  about  these  ven- 
erable piles  ;  how  ^hey  were  all  built  at  one  time  through-    ' 
out  Europe,  and,  'tis  said,  under   the  supervision  of  one 
man  ;  and  that  they  were  the  expression  of  the  Gothic 
idea  in  Architecture  ;  while  Shakspeare,  afterwards,  gave 
expression  to  the  same  idea  in  poetry. 

And  then  that  thrilling  and  unequal  passage  of  CoN- 
greve's,  which  Dr.  Johnson  calls  the  most  poetical  para- 
graph in  the  whole  range  of  the  drama — finer  than  any 


16  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

one   in  Shakspeare.     It  is  where  the  awe  of  the  place 
overcomes  Almeria — 

"  Leonard;    Hark  I 

"Almeria,     No  ;  all  is  hushed  and  still  as  death.    'Tis  dreadful ! 
How  r-everend  is  the  face  of  this  tall  pile, 
"Whose  ancient  pillars  rear  their  marble  heads 
To  bear  aloft  its  arched  and  ponderous  roof. 
By  its  own  weight  made  steadfast  and  immovable, 
Looking  tranquility  I     It  strikes  an  awe 
And  terror  on  my  aching  sight ;  the  tombs 
And  monumental  caves  of  death  look  cold, 
And  shoot  a  chillness  to  my  trembling  heart. 
Give  me  thy  hand,  and  let  me  hear  thy  voice  ; 
Nay,  quickly  speak  to  me,  and  let  me  hear 
Thy  voice — my  own  affrights  me  with  its  echoes." 

While  here,  the  dead  were  brought  in.  The  priest,  the 
ceremony,  the  boys  swinging  burning  incense  about  the 
coffin,  the  mumbling  and  strict  silence  of  all  present ;  how 
strange,  and  yet  with  what  devotion  !  The  Catholics  have 
no  infidels  among  them.  Is  it  not  strange  that  the  high- 
er, pui'er,  better  the  religion  is,  the  more  infidels  it  has  ? 

I  noticed  many  a  fine  and  costly  building  devoted  to  be- 
nevolent and  religious  purposes,  aside  from  the  grand 
churches  that  ornament  the  city. 

"We  had  gone  down  to  the  river,  in  the  morning,  to  select 
a  steamer  for  Vicksburgh,  Mississippi.  The  levee,  as  we 
have  said,  is  a  paved  limestone  bank,  running  along  the 
river  for  nearly  three  miles,  and  almost, all  this  distance  I 
saw  a  dense  and  nearly  double  row  of  steamers,  with  the 
places  of  their  destination  painted  on  canvas  and  hoisted 
above  their  fore-castles. 

Surely,  thought  I,  all  the  "  carrier  pigeons"  of  the  great 
valley  of  the  west  are  waiting  here  for  their  messages. 
While  I  stood  gazing,  and  doubting  which  one  I  should 
choose,  I  asked  a  gentleman  to  point  me  out  a  first-class 
steamer  that  was  going  down  the  river  to-day. 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  17 

He  pointed  up  the  river  and  said,  "  There  is  the  Minne- 
ha-ha  ;  she  starts  out,  at  noon,  for  New  Orleans." 

"Minne-ha-ha  !"  That's  beautiful !  To  sail  down  the 
Mississippi  in  the  "Laughing  water  I"  How  much  Indian 
romance  there  will  be  in  it !  But  she  was  some  way  up 
stream.  I  had  to  wait  the  mending  of  a  broken  trunk,  so 
she  sailed  off  and  left  me.  The  "James  E.  Woodruff" 
sailed.in  the  afternoon.  I  was  soon  "  ticketed"  and  aboard 
of  her.  She  did  not  go,  though,  till  the  next  day  in  the 
afternoon. 

The  officers  on  board  of  these  steamers  think  of  the 
traveler  as  Cortes  did  of  the  Mexicans — that  truth  is  too 
precious  for  them.  You  must  bide  your  time  and  learn  to 
wait.  But  if  you  are  not  in  haste — your  board  is  free — 
one  has  enough  to  occupy  his  time  walking  about  the  city 
seeing  its  curiosities  ;  or  they  can  sit  here,  on  deck,  and 
look  at  this  mass  of  men,  mules  and  horses — 

"Drays,  carts,  cabs  and  coaches,  roaring  all — 

goods  of  all  kinds,  and  even  more  ;  some  carried  on  board 
the  steamer,  some  taken  off ;  all  stir,  noise,  bustle,  tustle, 
pulling,  hauling,  rallying,  hallooing,  doing  all  things  and 
everything;  lifting,  dragging,  lugging,  tugging,  urging, 
driving  and  whipping  cattle,  horses,  mules,  sheep,  hogs — 
''•  et  id  omne  genus,''  aboard. 

Sittino-  in  the  fore-castle  of  the  steamer,  and  lookino;  out 
upon  all  this  confused  scene,  I  longed  for  a  term  to  ex- 
press a  thousand  things  at  once — that  would  syllable  forth 
in  07ie  word  all  I  saw  and  heard.  I  longed  to  give  expres- 
sion to  something  unutterable,  till  "melee"  occurred.  I 
uttered  it  aloud  and  felt  relieved. 

I  remember  that  I  noticed  on  the  doors  and  walls  of  the 
Central  depot,  Chicago,  this  placard  :  "  Beivare  of  pick- 
pockets and  watch-stuff ers  .^"     But  these  steamboats  lying 


18  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

along  this  levee,  especially  when  the  passengers  come 
aboard,  the  day  they  are  to  start,  should  be  conspicuously 
placarded  with  such  warnings.  Gangs  of  thieves  prowl 
about  them,  and  when  you  are  at  breakfast,  or  any  of  your 
meals,  or  out  of  your  state-room,  unless  it  is  locked,  as  it 
should  be  when  you  leave  it,  they  steal  into  it,  and  rifle 
the  room  of  anything  valuable,  even  breaking  open  car- 
pet-bags. 

This  morning,  on  board  the  "Woodruff,"  a  fine  gold 
watch,  and  porte-monnaie,  with  considerable  gold  in  it,  was 
stolen  from  one  of  the  state-rooms.  On  the  "Alleghany," 
lying  near  us,  the  same  morning,  a  carpet-bag  was  broken 
open  and  rifled  of  its  contents.  The  owner  of  the  watch 
and  porte-monnaie  applied  to  our  Captain  ;  he  referred  him 
to  the  Detective  Police.  This  officer  was  found.  The  story 
was  told. 

"  My  friend,"  said  he,  "  tliis  is  an  ower  true  tale."  Not 
a  morning  passes  but  what  I  hear  the  story  of  some  of 
these  passengers  being  robbed — watches,  money,  or  valu- 
ables stolen  from  them."  He  said  it  was  useless  to  search 
the  boat  while  lying  along  the  levee. 

*♦  'Tis  true — tis  a  pity. 
And  pity  'tis,  'tis  true," 

that  the  Detective  Police,  though  Argus-eyed,  would  be 
eluded  and  bafl^led  in  detecting  and  apprehending  these 
thieves,  or  getting  back  the  stolen  treasures. 


SOJOURX   IN   THE   SOUTH.  19 


CHAPTER   II. 

"'Twas  an  Autumn  morning,  as  the  clock  struck  ten, 

That  we  left  St.  Louis,  on  our  route  again  ; 

Gazing  on  the  river,  thick  with  yellow  mud, 

And  dreaming  of  disaster,  fire,  and  fog,  and  flood — 

Of  boilers  ever  bursting,  of  snags  that  break  the  wheel. 

And  sawyers,  ripping  steamboats  through  all  their  length  of  keel. 

While  on  our  journey  southward,  in  our  gallant  ship, 

Floating,  steaming,  panting  doivn  the  Mississip.''^ 

Mac  KAY. 

We  left  St.  Louis  at  12  o'clock,  November  oth.  We  were 
*' bannered"  away  by  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs  of 
friends  on  the  other  steamers  and  the  levee. 

Passing  Jefferson  Barracks,  down  the  river  "  aways,"  I 
could  not  but  think  with  sadness  of  the  earlv  death  of 
young  Mason,  Steavart  and  Andrus,  of  Battle  Creek, 
Michigan.     Here  they  lie  buried,  with 

*'  No  tomb  to  plead  their  remembrance." 

They  were  enjoying  the  happiness  of  a  farm-life,  in  their 
own  Peninsular  State,  when  the  "pibroch"  for  the  Mexi- 
can war  sounded  near  their  homes.  Young  and  ambitious, 
they  were  influenced  by  a  love  of  military  glory — they 
went  to  the  war.  And  thus  far  had  thev  ffot  on  their  re- 
turn  home,  when  they  found  that  the 

"  Paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

"  Hequescat  in  pace" — friends  of  my  early  days. 

Our  passage  down  the  Mississippi  was  a  slow  one,  long 
drawn  out.     The  river  was  nearlv  at  low  water  mark,  and 


20  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

we  "sounded"  our  way  along,  dodging  sand-bars,  rafts, 
snags  and  saAvyers.  The  current  is  wayward  and  impetuous, 
and  so  crooked  that  the  "  needle  of  the  compass  turns 
round  and  round,  pointing  East,  West,  North  and  South, 
as  it  marks  the  bearings  of  your  craft,"  showing  those 
tremendous  bends  in  the  stream,  which  nature  appears  to 
have  formed  to  check  the  headlong  current  and  keep  it 
from  rushing  too  madly  to  the  Ocean.  But  in  its  impetu- 
osity it  frequently  grows  impatient  of  the  "  round-about 
course,"  and  '^ ploughs"  through  the  bend,  making  what  is 
termed  a  "  cut-off." 

The  2)oetical  name  of  the  Mississippi  is  the  Father-of- 
waters.  But  the  word  is  found  in  the  Choctaw  language, 
and  is  rendered  thus:  "Missa" — "old  big,"  and  "Sip- 
pah" — "strong."  Hence,  Mississippi  means,  "Old-big- 
strong" — a  name  eminently  characteristic  of  the  river. 
And  he 

"That  has  been 
Where  the  wild  will  of  the  Mississipi  tide 
Has  dashed  him  on  a  sawyer," 

will  think  the  Choctaw  was  right  when  he  called  it  the 
"  Old-big-strong." 

The  "  Iron  Mountains,"  on  the  Mississippi  shore,  where 
there  lies  embedded  enough  wealth  in  ore  to  supply  the 
United  States  with  iron  for  the  next  two  or  three  centu- 
ries, are  a  wild,  picturesque  range  of  bluffs,  looking  like 
decayed  old  castles  along  the  haunted  Rhine,  half  hid  by 
trailing  shrubs  and  clambering  vines,  rich  with  many-col- 
ored leaves. 

"It  was  rugged,  steep  and  wild, 
Where  naked  cliffs  were  rudely  piled  ; 
And  ever  and  anon  between 
Lay  velvet  tufts  of  loveliest  green  ; 


SOJOURX   IN   THE    SOUTH.  21 

And  the  honeysuckle  loved  to  crawl 

Fp  the  low  crag,  and  ruined  wall. 

And  still  they  seemed  like  shattered  towers, 

The  mightiest  work  of  human  powers." 

The  Illinois  side  is  low  and  sandy,  a  forest  rising  up  in 
the  distance. 

Our  passengers  are  from  all  places.  Here  we  have  the 
Marseillese,  talking  about  Parisian  life,  Napoleon  the 
Great,  and  Louis  the  XIV.  One  would  think  France  had 
but  two  great  men,  and  they  were  the  two,  to  hear  him 
talk.  In  fact,  she  has  but  two — Napoleon  and  Louis  XW 
are  the  only  ones  she  has  immortalized  in  painting  and 
sculpture. 

''  I  speak  very  correct  English,  better  that  most  'Meri- 
cans  themself,"  says  he,  showing  the  true  Yankee  dispatch 
in  curtailing  his  sentences. 

Here  we  have  the  Mississippian  and  lady,  whose  accent 
on  many  words  bespeak  them  Southrons  ;  the  Tenneseean, 
who  never  says  Tennes-see,  as  we  of  the  North  do,  but  ac- 
centing the  first  syllable,  says,  Te72nessee. 

That  young  lady — a  Southern  blonde — has  just  returned 
from  a  four  years'  sojourn  in  Scotland,  and  is  going  home 
to  Memphis.  The  one  by  her  side,  of  stately  figure,  is  an 
actress  from  Philadelphia,  going  to  New  Orleans. 

Here  we  have  a  young  German  of  dress,  a  true  child  of 
the  mist,  who  has  made  a  tour  of  the  United  States  and  is 
now  going  to  spend  the  winter  in  Cuba. 

There  you  see  two  or  three  gentlemen  from  Kentucky 
and  Arkansas,  listening  to  a  Pennsylvania  Dutchman's  sto- 
ry about  how  he  opposed  the  tariff  in  Clay  times,  fearing 
"  that  if  they  got  it  into  operation  they'd  run  the  darned 
old  thino;  right  throuo-h  his  barn."  He  was  like  many 
pood  honest  farmers  who  had  been  bewildered  with  the 


22  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

fabulous  accounts  of  the  "  locomotive,"  but  have  since  seen 
it,  and  now  the  wonder  ceases. 

That  gentleman  Avith  the  sandy  whiskers  and  moustache, 
is  the  proprietor  of  the  St.  Charles  Hotel  in  New  Orleans. 

"And  thereby  hangs  a  tale." 

He  was  a  poor  Yankee  boy,  who  left  his  home  in  New 
England  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  great  West,  and  finally 
wandered  off  to  New  Orleans,  and  is  now  by  sheer  indus- 
try and  economy,  proprietor  of  one  of  the  first  hotels  in 
x\merica. 

Those  nabobs  in  the  old  w^orld,  whose  fortunes  seek 
them,  would  be  startled  at  the  accounts  of  fortunes  sought 
and  made  by  the  industry  and  thrift  of  young  Americans. 
And  many  an  American  boy,  now  hawking  his  penny  pa- 
pers about  the  streets  of  our  cities,  may  yet  stand  unshad- 
owed by  the  side  of  the  richly  possessed  nabobs  of  Europe. 
That  little  ragged  urchin  that  offers  his  apples  to  our  rich 
German  at  ''two  pennies  apiece,"  may  yet  smoke  a 
"'meerschaum"  with  him  sailing  down  his  castled  Rhine. 

Here  is  a  Kentuckian,  who  has  been  telling  me  about 
the  Clay  family.  His  father  lived  a  neighbor  to  the  "  Sage 
of  Ashland,"  and  although  opposed  to  him  in  politics  all 
his  life,  yet  he  always  loved  him.  It  was  true  that  the 
children  were  inclined  to  insanity.  He  met  Joiix  in  St. 
Louis  last  Fall ;  he  hated  to  go  home,  the  old  lady  and 
the  boys  made  such  a  "fuss"  about  that  "affair  of  his 
horse-trainer."  It  is  well  known  that  Joiix  Clay  shot  his 
groom  in  the  streets  of  Lexington. 

Mrs.  Clay  was  a  very  domestic  lady ;  and  James  B. 
had  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  Kentuckians,  and  the 
ridicule  and  sarcastic  wit  of  George  D.  Prentice,  for  re- 
building his  father's  house.  It  was  the  property  of  Ken- 
tucky on  the  death  of  her  noblest  son. 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  23 

As  if  to  complete  the  variety  of  our  passengers,  we  have 
that  rare  specimen  of  hoiyio  genus,  who,  whether  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  Sacramento  or  Ganges,  is  noted 
for  his  industry  and  thrift — a  live  Yankee.  He  is  going 
South  to  teach  school,  or  to  "get  up"  a  class  in  music,  or 
peddle  eight-day  clocks  ;  and  should  he  fail  in  these  he 
has  a  reserve  in  a  large  supply  of  "  Prof.  Haskell's  Elec- 
tric Oil."  i 

We  were  entertained  this  evening  by  the  singing  and 
piano-playing,  at  the  other  end  of  the  cabin,  of  our  "  SiD- 
DONS,"  whom  we  have  mentioned.  We  laid  by  last  night, 
afraid  to  venture  among  the  shallows. 

A  rainy  morning.  We  have  stopped  at  Cape  Girardeau 
to  take  in  some  flour.  It  is  a  small  town  lying  on  the 
slopes  of  the  bluffs.  It  has  some  fine  buildings — mills,  a 
convent,  and  a  grand  University  building,  situated  on  the 
apex  of  a  beautiful  terraced  eminence.  Students  were 
walking  about  the  ground. 

In  a  talk  with  a  planter  from  Kentucky,  going  to  New 
Orleans  to  sell  his  tobacco,  about  our  buying  of  England 
all  our  railroad  iron,  he  remarked,  pointing  to  the  "Iron 
Mountains"  on  the  Missouri  side,  "There  we  have  inex- 
haustible treasures  of  it,  and  that  which  is  better,  too. 
We  are  fools,  and  the  dupes  of  greater  fools  ;  our  bargains 
are  made  for  us  by  other  men,  and  we've  got  to  stand  it." 

We  are  gradually  approaching  the  region  of  perpetual 
summer ;  and  I  am  getting  acquainted  with  that  class  of 
people  that  live  on  the  borders  of  it — the  real  Southrons. 

Here  I  am  listening  to  a  Louisiania  planter  and  a  Mich- 
igan farmer,  talking  about  Buchanan,  wheat  and  cotton ; 
then  to  a  bustling  Eastern  man,  talking  to  a  Western  pio- 
neer. 

The  skies  are  clear  again,  and  we  have  gone  upon  the 
hurricane  deck    "prospecting."     Missouri  walls   up   the 


24  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

Mississippi  yet  with  castellated  bluffs,  but  the  monotonous 
sand-bars,  and  young  growth  of  cotton-wood  continues  on 
the  other  side,  while  the  great  "  Father-of-waters"  goes 
rolling  on  in  grand  sweeps  around  the  bends  and  islands, 
in  his  course  South. 

Here  sits  the  actress,  our  "  Siddoxs,"  pensively  musing 
with  a  book  in  her  hand  ;  a  Juliet  thinking  of  her  Romeo  ; 
or  is  she  musing  on  the  tale  of  romance  told  by  these 
rude,  ivy-covered  rocks — these 

"  Battled  towers  and  donjon  keeps  !" 

Was  not  that  Hixda\s  bower  on  that  one  peering  above 
the  rest  ?  And  is  she  not  watching  Hafed,  as  he  climbs  the 
steep  ascent,  leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  till  he  gets  on 
that  jutting  crag  from  which 

"  AVhen  she  saw  him  rashly  spring, 

And  midway  there  in  danger  cling, 

She  threw  him  down  her  long  black  hair, 

Exclaiming  breathless,   There,  love!  there!" 

But  I  am  seated  now,  and  we  are  talking  with  our  pret- 
ty tourist  from  Scotland.  Who  can  think  of  that  country 
and  not  of  her  Scott,  the  wizard  of  the  North  ?  She  had 
visited  Melrose  Abbey,  and  following  Sir  Walter's  di- 
rections, she  had  gone  at  night. 

"  If  thou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright. 
Go  visit  it  by  pale  moonlight ; 
For  the  gay  beams  of  lightsome  day 
Gild  but  to  flout  the  ruins  gray." 

And  she  had  seen  Abbotsford,  ^'  that  romance  of  stone 
and  mortar,"  and  Dryburgh,  and  had  visited  Sir  Wal- 
ter's tomb,  and  Miada's,  too. 

But,  here  we  are  on  a  sand-bar  I  Backing  off,  we 
take  a  turn  and  plough  through  in  another  direction.    The 


SOJOURN   IN  THE   SOUTH.  25 

air  is  soft  and  balmy.  How  pleasant  to  have  the  warm 
Southern  breezes  kissing  your  cheeks,  while  youi'  friends  at 
home  are  shivering  in  the  cold  November  winds. 

We  passed  the  "  graves,"  and  left  the  Alleghany  strand- 
ed on  one  of  them.  We  had  been  playing  "hide  and 
seek"  with  her  among  the  islands,  bends  and  curves  in 
the  river,  all  the  way  from  St.  Louis.  But  now  we  have 
left  her,  poor  thing !  in  distress.  She  remained  there, 
stranded,  for  nearly  twenty-four  hours.  We  got  to  Cairo 
by  sunset,  and  there  laid  by  all  night. 

This  morning  it  is  truly  in  the  "  fogs"  of  Egypt.  This 
town  has  a  criminal  reputation.  The  inhabitants  are  called 
"  Thugs,"  and  travelers  tell  hard  stories  about  their  "rob- 
bing," and  now  and  then  a  man's  "being  heard  of  no 
more,"  after  he  had  sought  their  hospitality. 

From  the  limestone  bluffs,  at  Alton,  commences  what  is 
called  the  American  bottoms,  and  continues  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Ohio.  The  people  here  call  this  bottom,  or  lower 
part  of  Illinois,  Egypt,  from  its  near  resemblance  to  an- 
cient Egypt.  It  is  a  great  country  for  corn  ;  its  capital, 
or  principal  town,  is  Cairo  ;  and  in  point  of  intelligence,  the 
darkness  of  Egypt  covers  the  land. 

We  left  the  Alleghany  here.  We  have  got  the  "  tag" 
now,  and  we  w411  keep  it  unless  the  sand-bars  hold  us  as 
they  did  her  yesterday,  and  she  gets  it  as  we  did,  and  runs 
away. 

But  we  are  leaving  the  limestone  bluffs  of  Missouri.  The 
last  stone  bluffs  are  seen  in  descending  about  thirty  miles 
above  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  and  below  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  the  alluvion,  the  river  flats,  broadens  from  thirty  to 
forty  miles  in  width,  still  expanding  to  the  Balize,  where 
it  is  three  times  that  width.  And  three-fifths  of  this  allu- 
vion is  either  dead  swamps  of  cypress  forest,  or  stagnant 


26  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

lakes,  or  creeping  bayous,  or  impenetrable  cane-brakes,  a 
great  part  of  it  inundated. 

From  St.  Louis  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  on  the  West 
side  of  the  river,  the  bluffs  are  generally  near  it,  seldom 
diverging  from  it  more  than  two  miles.  These  are  most- 
ly perpendicular  masses  of  limestone,  sometimes  shooting 
up  into  towers  and  pinnacles,  presenting,  as  Jefferson 
observes,  at  a  distance,  the  appearance  of  the  battlements 
and  towers  of  an  ancient  city. 

At  the  Cornice  rocks,  and  the  cliffs  aboA^e  St.  Gene- 
vieve, they  rise  between  two  and  three  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  river.  They  are  imposing  spectacles  in 
the  distance.  We  might  mention  among  them  that  gigan- 
tic mass  of  rocks,  forming  a  singular  island  in  the  river, 
called  the  "  Grand  Tower,"  and  the  shot  towers  of  Her- 
culaneum.  Two  striking  peculiarities  of  this  river  are 
often  unobserved. 

First,  no  person  who  descends  it  receives  on  his  first 
trip  a  clear  and  adequate  idea  of  its  grandeur,  and  the 
amount  of  water  that  it  carries.  When  he  sees  it  descend- 
ing from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  that  it  swallows  up 
one  river  after  another,  with  mouths  as  wide  as  itself, 
w^ithout  affecting  its  width  at  all ;  when  he  sees  it  receiv- 
ing in  succession  the  mighty  ]Missouri,  which  changes  the 
color  of  the  waters,  making  them  muddy — 

"  So  the  ^Mississippi,  lucent  to  the  brim, 
Wedded  lO  ^lissouri,  takes  lie-*  Lue  rrom  him, 
And  is  pure  no  longer, " 

the  broad  Ohio,  St.  Francis,  Arkansas  and  Red,  all  of 
them  of  great  depth,  length  and  volume  of  water — absorb- 
ing them  all,  and  retaining  a  volume  apparently  un- 
changed, and,  strange  to  relate,  even  growing  narrower  ; 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  27 

when  he  sees  all  this  he  begins  to  estimate  the  force,  fury, 
overwhelming  power  and  increasing  depth  of  the  current 
as  it  sweeps  and  rolls  on  to  the  great  Gulf. 

The  other  peculiarity  is  the  uniformity  of  its  "mean- 
ders"— the  points  and  bends  in  its  course.  One  would 
think  that  the  deep  and  frequent  draughts  it  liad  taken — 
an  accumulatino;  force  with  no  increasino;  width — that  this 
would  cause  it  irregularly  to  sway  from  side  to  side,  like 
a  drunken  Polyphemus.  But  what  is  most  remarkable, 
there  is  "method  in  this  madness."  The  curves  are  often 
described  as  with  the  decision  of  a  compass.  Having  per- 
formed this  sweej),  or  half-circle,  the  current  is  precipitat- 
ed across  its  own  channel,  and  describes  another  curve  of 
the  same  regularity  on  the  opposite  shore.  Thus  the  great 
"  Father-of  waters"  goes  on  in  a  grand  waltz  to  the  ocean. 
The  curves  are  so  regular,  that  boatmen  and  Indians  for- 
merly calculated  distances  by  them,  instead  of  estimating 
their  progress  by  the  mile  or  league. 

Opposite  these  bends  there  is  always  a  sand-bar,  matched 
in  its  convexity  to  the  concavity  of  the  curve.  Here  on 
this  bar  you  see  lIiosc  young  cotton-wood  groves  in  their 
most  striking  appearance.  The  trees  rising  from  the  shore, 
showing  the  present  year's  growth,  while  those  of  the  sec- 
ond, third,  fourth,  fifth,  and  so  on,  recede  and  rise  higher 
in  regular  gradations,  with  foliage  varying  in  hues  from 
the  pale  to  the  deep  and  deeper  green,  till  they  gain  the 
ancient  wood. 

"'Tis  a  scene  that  would  delight  a  Slienstone." 

Then  in  the  middle  of  the  stream  vou  often  find  beauti- 
ful  islands.  One  would  think  them  the  charming  haunts 
of  river  nymphs,  they  have  such  an  aspect  of  beauty  as 
they  appear  at  a  distance  swelling  from  the  stream,  clothed 


28  JOTTINGS    OF   A   year's 

in  their  woody  grandeur;  and  when  sunset  gihis  them  they 
look 

**  Like  emeralds  chased  in  gold." 

As  we  sailed  out  from  among  these  "fairy  isles"  we 
often  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  the  "silvery  sand-bars," 
the  resort  of  innumerable  geese,  cranes,  pelicans  and  water- 
fowl. 

The  w^hole  river  scene  I  have  described  is  most  poetic- 
ally and  truthfully  delineated  by  Longfellow^  in  his  Eyan- 
GELIXE.  In  fact,  it  is  one  of  the  fine  poetical  descriptions 
of  a  scene  which  one  rarely  finds,  that  it  will  do  to  read 
on  the  spot : 

"  Day  after  day  they  glided  down  the  turbulent  river; 
Now  through  rushing  chutes,  among  green  islands,  where 

plum-like 
Cotton-trees  nodded  their  shadowy  crests,  they  swept  with 

the  current. 
Then  emerged  into  broad  lagoons,  where  silvery  sand-bars 
Lay  in  the  stream,  and  along  the  wimpling  waves  of  the 

margin, 
Shining  with  snow-white  plumes  large  flocks  of  pelicans 

waded." 

But  there  goes  the  "  gong  !"  I  must  leave  the  contem- 
plation of  this  broad  and  magnificent  river,  winding  on  to- 
ward the  tropics  amid  landscape  scenes  so  delightful  for 
the  eye  to  roam  over,  and  hasten  down  to  dinner. 

It  is  like  sitting  down  to  a  banquet  to  take  seat  at  one 
of  these  tables.  One  wants  the  faculty  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott  in  describing  a  feast,  to  give  an  idea  of  the  repasts 
on  board  one  of  these  steamers. 

Some  rich  soup  leads — but  let  our  Marseillese  describe 
them : 


• 

SOJOURX   IX   THE   SOUTH.  29 


iC 


You  have  grand  table  on  the  Mississippi  steamers — 
grand  table — better  than  I  get  at  the  Astor  House  or  St. 
Charles,  New  Orleans ;  grand  table.  I  travel  up  and  down 
this  river  quite  often,  for  the  good  living  you  get  on  these 
steamboat.  But  jou  have  miserable  poor  brandy  and 
wine  ;  miserable  poor.  It  makes  one  feel  bad,  very  bad, 
to  get  drunk  in  America  ;  but  mighty  pleaso7if  in  France  ; 
mighty  pleaso?if." 

A  Mississippi  steamer  is  a  miniature  world  afloat,  or  as 
our  Kentuckian  expresses  it,  "  Should  the  world  be  deluged 
again,  it  would  only  be  necessary,  by  way  of  preserving 
the  human  family,  to  save  one  of  these  Mississippi  steam- 
ers as  a  'nest-ark,'  which  generally  contains,  not  only  the 
animal  kingdom  represented  in  '  pairs'  but  the  human  fam- 
ily by  nations." 

One  not  only  finds  its  passengers  of  a  many-placed  va- 
riety, but  the  various  parts  that  men  "  act"  in  life  you  find 
here  represented,  the  serious,  gay  and  comic. 

B.,  our  Kentuckian,  is  a  true  son  of  CoMUS.  He  does 
our  song-singing,  fluting,  violining  and  story-telling.  He 
is  a  medley.  His  entertainment  this  evening  began  with 
some  piece  of  spirit  and  sentiment,  or  a  hymn.  Then, 
^'  Old  Uxcle  Ned,"  followed  by  some  boatman's  song. 

After  this  came  in  passages  from  Hamlet  or  Richard 
III.  He  is  endeavoring  to  draw  the  auditors  from  our 
"Actress,"  who  is  entertaining  the  other  end  of  the  cabin 
v^ith  singing  and  music  from  the  piano. 

We  have,  of  course,  among  the  variety,  the  "  suspicious 
character,"  and  they  appear  to  be  among  those  that  are  so 
much  attached  to  the  card-table.  Several  of  them  seem 
to  express  the  gambler  in  his  genuine  character.  Though 
our  New  York  city  merchant  tells  me  they  have  not  the 
real  gambler  aboard ;  still  the  wine  and  brandy  they  in- 


f 

30  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

variably  have  to  grace  their  table,  makes  their  playing  look 
like  the  game  in  its  most  earnest  phase. 

But  at  the  other  end  of  the  cabin,  cards  are  played  in  a 
gay  and  more  amusing  manner.  Our  Yankee  has  been 
over  with  the  ladies  "  whisting."  Their  part  of  the  cabin 
is  prohibited  us,  unless  we  pay  five  dollars  extra,  or  travel 
with  a  lady.  ^'  He  must  needs  be  a  bold  rider  that  leaps 
the  fence  of  custom."  But  once  tell  a  Yankee  of  any- 
thing desirable,  and  his  ingenuity  wdll  get  it  at  the  lowest 
possible  figure. 

The  application  of  steam  to  locomotion,  and  the  mag- 
netic telegraph,  appear  to  have  supplied  the  latest  wants 
of  mankind  up  to  this  date.     And  though 

"  Mail  wants  but  little  here  below, 
He'll  not  want  that  little  long," 

if  he  only  makes  his  need  known  to  an  ingenious  Yankee, 
who  is  the  only  man  now-a-days  that  believes  in  the  Latin 
maxim,  "iV«7  mortilihus  arduum  est,'' — nothing  is  impos- 
sible for  mortals.  And  in  wdiatever  enterprise  he  engages 
he  bears 

"  That  banner  with  the  strange  device" — 

Eureka  ! 

This  is  the  Sabbath  on  the  great  '' Father-of-watcrs." 
Could  we  catch  sight  of  Father  Hexipex  and  his  two 
companions,  as  they  were  dropping  down  the  river  in  their 
frail  canoe,  we  would  hail  the  good  old  Jesuit  and  invite 
him  on  board  to  preach  for  us.  A  sermon,  though  Jesu- 
itical, would  be  better  than  none.  But  I  think  tlie  won- 
der excited  by  our  steamer  would  rather  frighten  the  old 
Father  from  a  sermon  into  curiosity  and  amazement. 

It  appears  that  we  have  almost  every  other  profession  on 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  31 

board  to-day  save  that  of  the  clergyman.  The  passengers 
seem  to  be  conscious  that  it  is  the  Sabbath,  and  show  some 
slight  change  in  their  appearance.  Even  B.  is  more  quiet; 
yet  you  can  see  that  mirth  and  jollity  are  "pent  up"  in 
him,  for  he  seems  uneasy,  and  frequently  in  a  low  hum- 
ming of  some  song,  a  whole  line  escapes  audibly,  by  way 
of  relief. 

It  has  rained  during  the  night,  and  continues  this  morn- 
inor.  The  srreat  canvass  curtain  has  been  let  down  about 
the  fore-castle  to  keep  the  rain  from  beating  in  on  the 
freight. 

Arkansas  is  on  our  right,  and  Tennessee  on  our  left. 
The  landscape  grows  broader  and  more  level,  the  shores 
lower  and  more  monotonous.  I  have  had  a  long  talk  with 
S.  of  Philadelphia,  on  Religion  and  Phrenology.  He 
believes  the  latter  and  is  sceptical  on  the  former.  He  had 
better  change — give  his  belief  to  Religion  and  his  scepti- 
cism to  Phrenology. 

About  four  this  morning  we  reached  Memphis.  Many 
of  our  passengers  stop  here.  I  shall  miss  some  of  them 
very  much.  A  few  days'  acquaintance  here  has  made  it 
seem  as  if  we  had  known  each  other  for  a  year  or  more. 

I  arose  and  went  out  to  the  fore-castle  ;  it  was  not  day- 
light yet ;  nothing  but  a  dim,  obscure  outline  of  buildings 
could  be  discerned.  By  endeavoring  to  find  some  form 
and  comeliness  to  them,  gazing  in  the  dark,  I  found  the 
effort  hurt  my  eyes.  We  sailed  away  with  such  an  im- 
pression of  Memphis  as  the  Daguerrean  would  get  from  his 
subject  on  smoked  tin.  The  recollection  of  sailing  along 
by  these  scenes  and  places  in  the  night  is  like  the  faint 
remembrance  one  has  of  places  he  has  visited  in  his  dreams. 
Trees  looked  less  nipped  by  the  frost  here. 

Came  to  Helena,  a  "  snatch"  of  a  village,  with  a  bad 
reputation,  lying  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  on  the  Arkan- 


32  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR's 

sas  side.  We  often  meet  men  and  boys  in  small  boats  and 
skiffs,  darting  by  us  across  the  stream. 

We  were  much  amused  this  noon,  at  table,  by  a  stalworth 
Kentuckian.  His  uncombed  hair,  coarse  boots,  and 
brusque  appearance,  described  him  oddly  among  the  rest. 
The  waiter  had  given  him  beef  steak  as  he  directed,  which 
he  began  to  eat,  but  shortly  desisted.  He  looked  over  to 
the  rest,  apparently  to  see  how  they  got  along  with  theirs. 
One  could  evidently  see  that  he  was  in  trouble — that  he 
had  either  lost  his  appetite,  or  that  there  was  a  wTong 
somewhere.  He  tried  his  steak  again,  essayed  to  masti- 
cate it,  stopped,  threw  down  his  knife  and  fork,  looked  up  to- 
ward the  waiter,  who  was  some  distance  from  him,  and  cried 
out,  loud  enough  to  startle  the  whole  table  :  "  Here,  wait- 
er, take  this  'ere  beef;  it's  tougher'n  thunder  I  Give  me 
something  I  can  eat !" 

A  heavy  fog  rests  on  the  river  this  morning,  and  hems 
in  sight.  Just  as  we  arose  from  the  breakfast  table  we 
were  almost  staggered  from  our  feet.  The  steamer  in  the 
dense  fog  had  run  against  the  bank.  She  staggered  back 
and  reeled  like  a  drunken  sailor,  then  sheered  off  and 
went  on  again.  We  all  rushed  to  the  fore-castle,  but  the 
fog  was  there  and  nothing  more.  They  tell  us  they  had 
the  first  frost  here  last  night,  November  10th. 

Here  on  the  Mississippi  side  planters'  houses  appear  in 
sight,  sitting  in  a  covert  of  green  trees,  Avith  negro  cabins 
neatly  white-washed  in  rows  near  by  them. 

"Along  the  shores  of  the  river  gm 
Shaded  by  China-trees,  in  the  midst  of  luxuriant  gardens, 
Stood  the  houses  of  planters,  with  their  negro  cabins  and 
dove-cots." 

The  river  is  low,  and  even  here  we  sound  our  way  along. 
"  Quarter  less  twain  !"  cries  the  man  with  the  line  below. 
"  Quarter  less  twain  I"  echoes  some  one  on  the  hurricane 


SOJOURN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  33 

deck  to  the  pilot  at  the  wheel.     "^  Quarter  more  twain!" 
&c.,  &c.,  all  cried  out  to  the  pilot  who  steers  the  boat  ac- 

coi'dino:lv. 

But  we  "  caught  a  Tartar''  last  night.  He  has  made 
more  stir  and  noise  since  he  came  on  board  than  we  have 
had  in  the  vvhole  trip  before.  He  is  a  rattling,  garrulous 
talker  on  politics,  or  any  other  subject.  He  is  among  us 
like  "the  boy  that  puts  the  chip  on  the  shoulder,"  then 
ur^es  some  one  to  knock  it  off,  which  leads  to  contention 
and  blows.     I  fear  some  of  us  will  part  in  a  quarrel. 

•  About  noon  Vicksburgh  appeared  in  sight,  ten  miles  off, 
resting  on  a  hill-side.  But  we  have  lost  sight  of  it  in  go- 
ing round  this  bend.  There  it  is  again  I  i^^ing  like  a  thing 
of  romantic  beauty  on  the  side  of  hills  that  slope  to  the 
river.  "  From  the  foot  of  this  irregular  side  of  the  summit, 
the  dwellings  are  scattered  in  the  most  picturesque  man- 
ner. Upon  every  green  knoll,  rise  of  ground  or  accessi- 
ble cliff,  you  see  cottages  of  every  style  and  form,  seated 
in  nests  of  flowers  and  evergreens.  The  streets,  some  of 
them  terraces  in  the  hill-side,  are  parallel  with  the  river, 
and  rise  one  above  the  other,  so  that  the  galleries  of  the 
houses  on  one  often  project  over  the  tops  of  those  on  the 
other."  The  principal  business  streets  have  many  fine, 
commodious  blocks  of  brick  and  stone.  They  were  not 
crowded,  but  had  the  quiet,  composed  air  of  the  city  mart. 
The  levee  is  not  paved,  but  covered,  to-day,  with  goods, 
swarms  of  carts  and  drays,  and  moving  things.  It  is  truly 
a  walk  up-hill  to  get  into  the  city. 

Beyond  the  business  streets  we  came  to  those  of  residen- 
ces. Here  the  air  was  "  balm  and  rosemary ;"  the  gardens 
were  radiant  with  flowers,  and  green  with  perennial  shrubs 
and  trees.  The  arbor  vitne  shot  up,  trimmed  in  the  shape 
of  a  cone  ;  the  orange  myrtle  fashioned  in  the  shape  of  a 
huge    pine-apple,    and    others    trimmed  in  various  other 


34  jotti>:gs  of  a  year's 

t>liapo.«,  stood,  with  their  smootli,  symmetrical  tops,  here 
and  tliere,  amid  those  of  nature's  untrimmed,  luxuriant 
oTOwth,  with  their  boughs  loosed  in  tlje  wind.  Seated  ami<l 
these  were  the  residences.  And  hid.  in  a  covert  of  them 
were  those  "bird  nests" — bowers  and  summer-houses, 
clambered  over,  scented  and  thatched' by  the  jessamiue  and 
woodbine. 

Which  of  these,  thought  I,  is  "Club  Castle,"  once  the 
home  of  S.  8.  Prentiss,  that  brilliant  star  that  shot  from 
the  Nortliern  into  the  Southern  hemisphere,  dazzling  all 
eyes  till  it  set  i]i  its  noon-day  splendor.  They  told  me 
many  interestinir  stories  about  him  here.  Hoav  suddenly 
he  acquired  fame  among  them.  The  sunshine  shed  upon 
their  hnv  by  his  transcendent  genius ;  the  wizard  po»'er 
and  brilliancy  of  his  eloquence.  While  he  resided  in  this 
city,  he  was  in  the  flower  of  his  forensic  fame — in  the  full 
freshness  of  his  unmatched  faculties. 

Findinu:  here  an  old  resident  of  Michiiran,   1  v.ent   with 

him  to  a  private  Ijoavding-house.      On  paying  my  bill  the 

next  mornino".  T  found,  as  I  often  had  before  on  mv  trii), 
that 

•'  Thereby  \iun<f  a  lalc." 

Fifty  cents  more  I  But  I  had  i!;ot  over  the  a])ex  of  ex- 
orbitant  charges  vrlien  the  barber  on  the  steamboat  charged 
me  forty  cents  for  shaving  my  upper  liv).  Thinking  that 
he  undoubtedly  regarded  me  as  some  eastern  prince,  I 
paid  him  without  a  murmur. 

At  noon  I  took  the  trig,  excellent  little  "  Packet  Steam- 
er, Home,"  that  runs  between  Vicksburgh  and  Yazoo  City, 
on  the  Yazoo  river,  for  Satartia.  Leaving  the  turbid 
Mississippi,  with  a  current  of  a  mile  in  width,  for  this  gen- 
tle stream  of  only  thirty  rods'  breadth,  was  an  agreeable 
chaniie.     Its  banks  are  w^illow-skirted,  and  the  trees  in 


SOJOURN    IN   THE    SOUTH.  o') 

many  places    are  tall,  and  leaning  over  the  stream  fronj 
each  side,  nearly  half  arch  it. 

"  Over  our  heads  the  soft,  tenebrous  boughs  of  the  willoAV 
Met  in  dusky  arch,  and  trailing  mosses  in  mid  air  "wayed, 
Like  banners  that  hung  on  the  walls  of  ancient  cathedrals." 

The  scenery  seemed  to  me  Arcadian,  as  we  sailed  up 
this  winding  passage  of  green,  and  now  and  then  caught 
glimpses  of  cotton  plantations  through  the  opening  willows 
along  the  banks.  It  was  getting  night,  and  the  sombre- 
green  shade  on  each  side  of  us  grew  deeper  and  deeper  as 
day  departed.  The  banks  began  to  be  busy  with  their 
dusky  images,  and  now  and  then  a  fragment  of  old  tradi- 
tion about  this  river,  would  come  across  my  mind,  which 
fancy  would  seize,  enlarge  upon  and  shape  to  her  liking. 
I  saw  the  dark  forms  of  the  Yazoo  warriors  moving  about 
among  the  trees  on  either  side,  and  "  wreaths  of  smoke  as- 
cending through  the  foliage,  betrayed  the  half-hidden  wig- 
wam." But  the  light  from  the  windows  of  a  plantation 
house  dispelled  all  fancy's  sombre  imagery,  and  left  me 
with  the  actual  fact  that  the  Yazoo  Indians  disappeared 
from  this  valley  more  than  a  century  ago. 

Twelve  miles  above  the  mouth  of  this  river  are  the  Ya- 
zoo hills,  and  four  miles  higher  the  site  of  Fort  St.  Peter, 
an  ancient  French  settlement,  which  these  Yazoo  Indians 
destroyed  in  1729  ;  and  they  in  their  turn  have  long  since 
been  unheard  of. 

On  this  river  and  the  country  which  it  waters,  was  laid 
the  scheme  of  the  famous  "  Yazoo  Speculation,"  which  will 
long  be  remembered  by  its  unfortunate  victims.  ThLs 
speculation  aroused  the  eloquence,  and  incited  the  taunts, 
invectives,  and  withering  sarcasm  of  John  Randolph. 


86  JOTTINGS    OF  A    YEAR'S 

I  have  met  on  board  the  "Home,"  the  gentleman,  a 
Mississippi  phmtcr,  Avhose  carpet-bag  was  rifled  on  board 
the  "Alleghany,"  the  morning  that  the  watch  and  porte- 
monnaie  were  stolen  from  the  "  Woodruif;"  also  a  young 
man  from  New  York,  who  has  come  South  to  teach. 

But  here  we  are  at  Satartia.  Let  me  see — Satartia, 
Yazoo  county,  Mississippi,  is  put  down  in  my  memorandum 
:is  the  terminus  of  my  journey.  That  journey  was  com- 
menced at  12  o'clock  at  night,  and,  after  twelve  days'  trav- 
el, it  is  finished  at  12  o'clock  at  night.  What  am  I  to  di- 
vine from  this,  save  that  I  left  off  as  I  beijun  ?  That  is, 
that  I  am  the  same  cold,  forbidding  Northerner,  here  in  the 
warm  heart  of  the  sunny  South,  that  I  was  twelve  days 
ago  when  I  left  home. 

An  old  negro,  whose  hair  was  as  silvery  as  the  moon- 
light that  fell  upon  it,  took  one  of  my  trunks,  and  placing 
it  on  his  head,  told  me  to  follow  him  and  he'd  take  me  to 
the  tavern.  We  were  soon  at  the  door,  and  after  thump- 
ing awhile,  both  of  us  by  turns,  a  plump,  dapper  little  man 
opened  it,  struck  a  light,  and  invited  me  in.  My  second 
trunk  was  brought,  the  charge  asked,  and  answered, 
"  Three  bits."  Three  bits  !  what's  that  ?  Mine  host  re- 
plied, "  Tis  tree  sheeling."  Paid  the  old  negro  his  three 
bits,  was  shown  to  my  room,  and — and — I'm  tired  and 
weary — good  night. 


SOJOURN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  37 


CHAPTER   III. 

"Nothing  seemed  so  pleasant  to  hope  for  or  to  keep, 
Nothing  in  tlic  wide  world  so  beautiful  as  sleep." 

Mackay. 

That  most  luxurious  of  sleepers,  Sancho  Panza,  and 
who  was  grateful  enough  to  ''benison"  the  man  who  in- 
vented the  luxury  he  loved  so  much  to  indulge  in,  prob- 
ably never  slept  any  sounder  than  we  did  last  night.  If 
we  remember  right,  not  the  scattered  fancy  of  a  dream 
disturbed  our  repose.  Our  long,  wearying  journey  had 
prepared  us  admirably  for  this  rest. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning  in  the  sunny  South  as  we 
walked  out,  thinking  to  find  Satartia  a  lively  village  of 
considerable  size'.  Seeing  only  a  few  houses  in  sight  we 
walked  on,  supposing  we  were  in  the  suburbs,  to  find  more 
of  the  tow^n,  but  soon  Avalked  out  of  it.  We  went  back  to 
the  tavern  porch  and  surveyed  it — it  is  not  half  of  a 
place.  The  houses  are  all  poor  and  shabby,  and  have  no 
shade  to  hide  their  tatters.  The  old  negro  told  me,  last 
night,  that  he  had  lived  here  thirty  years.  He,  no  doubt, 
has  seen  the  rise,  progress  and  dilapidation  of  the  town. 
It  had  flourished  once  with  the  trade  and  traffic  of  four  or 
five  stores.  Those  were  its  "palmy  days."  Now  it  has 
only  two  stores — poor,  low^  buildings ;  a  tavern,  dentist, 
doctor  and  shoemaker. 

But  "mine  host"  makes  up  much  for  what  the  place 
lacks.  He  has  as  many  occupations  as  Humphrey  Clink- 
er had  titles.     His  like  cannot  be  found.     He    is    land- 


88  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

lord,  landlady,  fiUc  de  cliamhre^  cook,  waiter,  bar-tender, 
porter,  hostler,  and  does  all  the  village  tailoring,  patching 
and  mending.  He  is  a  Scotchman,  born  in  Quebec,  thence 
emigrated  to  Mackinaw,  tlftnce  to  Prairie  du  Chien,  thence 
to  St.  Louis  in  1820,  when  it  had  only  four  thousand  in- 
habitants,  thence  to  Vick'sburgh,  Mississippi,  thence  to  Sa- 
tartia  ;  and  here  the  good  people  in  Satartia,  and  the  plant- 
ers about  it,  are  determined  he  shall  pass  the  remainder  of 
his  days  as  their  good  and  kind  "  publican."  Should  any 
of  my  Northern  friends  come  to  Mississippi,  and  stop  at 
Satartia,  my  word  for  it,  endorsed  with  a  day  and  a  half's 
hospitality  and  good  fare,  they  will  find  '^  UxcLE  Mac" 
their  trustworthy  and  kind-hearted  landlord. 

After  breakfast,  which  was  plain  and  good,  I  called  up- 
on several  Satartians,  whose  names  had  been  given  me  as 
principal  men  in  this  place,  but  I  could  ascertain  nothing 
in  regard  to  schools  ;  they'd  had  none  here,  time  out  of 
mind ;  and  they  knew  of  no  place  in  the  country  where  a 
teacher  was  w^anted. 

As  I  had  yet  to  go  ten  or  twelve  miles  into  the  country, 
to  my  friend's.  Major  W.,  I  asked  if  I  could  get  a  horse 
<.ind  carriage  for  that  purpose.  There  was  but  one  carriage 
owned  in  town,  and  that  could  not  be  got.  The  people  here 
traveled  mostly  on  horseback.  Could  I  have  a  horse  and 
saddle,  then  ?  Not  one  to  be  found.  The  horses  were  all 
in  use,  or  they  were  like  John-a-Duck's  mare,  "  they'd 
let  nobody  ride  them  but  Joiin-a-Duck."  In  this  dilem- 
ma, a  young  gentleman  visiting  here  from  New  Orleans, 
informed  me  that  one  of  Mr.  H.'s  negroes  was  in  town, 
and,  as  he  was  going  to  Major  W.'s  plantation,  I  could 
send  a  letter  by  him,  informing  him  of  my  arrival.  A  note 
was  written  and  sent. 

The  next  morning  a  little  negro  boy  came  on  a  mule, 
bringing  me  a  horse  and  saddle.     Leaving  my  trunks  with 


SO.TOURX    IN    TT[r:    SOUTH.  39 

'•  UxcLE  Mac,"'  I  mounted  my  liov.^e  and  foilowcd  my  lit- 
tle guide.  He  "wasn't  goin£r  Vi)  tMkc  me,"  he  said, 
"  round  by  the  carriage  road  through  the  uplands,  twelve 
miles,  but  was  going  througli  by  tlie  .shortest  way,  along 
the  valley."  It  was  the  brrdlc-parh,  three  or  four  miles 
nearer,  from  Satartia. 

But  ere  Ave  had  2;ot  out  of  siccht  of  town  we  were  over- 
taken  ]»v  a  young  man  on  horseback.  He  was  an  over- 
i<eei\  in  search  of  a  place.  Said  his  name  was  Hayne.  I 
asked  him  if  he  Avas  kin  to  Robert  Y.  HayinE,  of  South 
Carolina.  "  Yes,  he  was.  He  had  the  pure  blood  of  the 
Hayxes  in  him."'  And  Avhen  I  praised  that  young  orator, 
Avho,  like  the  great  chauipion  of  debate  Avhom  he  so  ably 
withstood  in  the  United  States  Senate,  was  gifted  with  a 
little  of  that  spirit  that  would  raise  mortals  to  the  skies, 
he  raised  himself  in  Ids  stirrups  and  spurred  his  horse  with 
]>ride-as  he  said,  "Yes  sir,  he  gin  Webster jV8.s/<?." 

But  ridinir  under  these  trees  throu<zh  the  Avoods  we  find 
our  hats  brushed  off  by  the  Ihnbs  occasionally,  and  our 
heads  combed  in  rather  too  brusque  a  manner.  Lea\dng 
the  riA^er  Ave  came  into  a  portion  of  valley  Avood-land,  about. 
midAvav  in  Avhich  Ave  met  several  horsemen  Avith  rifles  on 
their  shoulders,  and  poAvder-pouches  strung  around  them, 
on  a  hunt,  attended  by  a  bcA'y  of  hounds.  They  had 
"started"  a  deer,  and  Avere  in  pursuit  of  him.  They  wish- 
ed to  knoAv  if  Ave  had  seen  him.  Being  informed  tliat  we 
had  not,  they  spurred  their  horses  on  to  tiie  cliase  again. 

Ottr  little  sable  guide  rides  ahead  and  opens  the  gates, 
Avhen  we  come  out  of  the  Avoods  to  them,  and  often  tells 
us  we  are  getting  off  the  track,  by  folloAving  some  of  the 
many  trails  that  brancli  off  from  the  main  path.  We 
passed  through  several  door-yards,  by  log  ])lantation-hous- 
es,  and  along  plantations  yet  snoAA^y  with  cotton-flakes, 
and  speckled  with  negroes.     This  was  a  novel  sight  to  me. 


40  JOTTINGS    OF    A   YEAll'S 

My  claY-dream  of  years  was  here  realized — to  see  the  sun- 
ny South  with  its  fields  of  "mimic  snow." 

I  remember  the  first  cotton-field  I  ever  saw.  It  was  in 
Olney's  old  Geograpy.  The  overseer  stood  with  his  arms 
folded,  whip  in  his  hand,  off  a 'little  way  from  the  negroes 
^ hoeing  in  the  cotton-field.  The  big  white  blossoms  bung, 
like  snow-balls,  among  the  green  leaves,  from  the  little 
plants.  It  was  really — this  cotton-field  in  a  book — a  pic- 
^?^r^-sque  scene  for  my  school-boy  eyes ;  and  how  much 
pleasanter  it  was  for  the  negroes  to  be  hoeing  in  such  a 
pretty  field,  than  it  was  for  me  to  hoe  my  "stint"  in  the 
garden,  so  many  rows  of  corn  or  potatoes,  every  Saturday 
afternoon  when  tliere  was  no  school. 

But  here  was  a  picturesque  scene,  drawn  by  an  "  Old 
master' ' — Nature.  The  cotton  was  higher  ;  in  many  places 
over  the  heads  of  the  negroes;  and  they  were  picking  in- 
stead of  hoeing  it ;  and  the  overseer  was  on  horseback,  or 
in  some  fields  was  walking  round  among  the  negroes.  But 
he  had  the  same  broad-rimmed  hat  on,  and  the  same  whip 
in  his  hand,  and  he  was  overseeino;  the  same  ne2;roes.  But 
yet  how  different !  The  painter's  best  representations  of 
the  world  are  pleasing  things ;  but  the  world  that  is  not 
painted  is  the  most  interesting  to  see.  My  only  trouble 
was,  I  was  so  much  absorbed  in  these  scenes  around  me, 
that  I  would  forget  that  I  was  on  horseback,  and  often 
found  myself  grasping  at  the  saddle-bow,  or  the  pony's 
mane  to  keep  m3"self  aboard.  Then  again,  at  the  loud 
laugh  of  the  negroes,  or  at  some  of  them  darting  up  sud- 
denly from  among  the  cotton  rows,  or  from  out  the  cor- 
ners of  the  fence,  my  little  craft  would  start  so  quick,  and 
"shy  oft',"  that  he  would  leave  me  "half  seas  over." 

After  sometlii]]g  over  an  hour's  ride  we  came  to  Major 
W.'s  plantation.  It  is  in  the  valley.  Here  is  the  old 
plantation-house,    in    wliich  the  family  formerly  resided, 


SOJOUKN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  41 

but  which  is  now  occupied  by  the  overseer,  and  here  are 
the  '-quarters,"  the  negro  cabins.  The  family  live  in  the 
uplands,  some  two  miles  from  here ;  their  home  is  called 
the  "Ridge  House."  The  ''old  house"  sits  on  a  green 
knoll  that  overlooks  the  whole  plantation.  It  is  built  of 
loo:s,  and  is  unchinked  on  the  inside ;  the  clefts  between 
the  logs  are  battened  on  the  outside,  with  cypress  shakes. 
The  roof  comes  down  low  in  front  and  rests  on  posts,  thus 
forming  a  porch  the  whole  length  of  the  building.  "  In  this 
porch  Major  AV.  can  sit  and  read  his  Picayune^  Delta, 
Crescent,  or  Day  Booh,  while  he  can  see  below  him  any 
thing  that  transpires  on  any  part  of  his  plantation.  This 
open  porch  continues  in  an  open  hall  that  divides  the  house 
into  two  rooms,  one  at  each  end. 

The  negro  cabins  are  of  logs.  They  are  a  part  of  them 
a  few  rods  to  the  left  of  the  house,  on  this  knoll  that  runs 
out  from  it,  like  a  terrace  in  the  blufts  that  rise  behind 
them.  And  part  of  them  are  perched  a  little  higher  up, 
on  little  cliffs  and  knolls,  looking  at  a  distance  like  irreat 
rooks'  nests  that  had  dropped  down  from  the  wood  above 
them.  It  is  not  often  that  Nature  has  terraced  down  these 
bluffs  with  graded  steps,  so  that  you  can  ascend  by  means 
of  them  from  the  valley  to  the  uplands.  She  has  gener- 
ally sloped  them  down  at  a  sweep,  or  knocked  off  the  tops 
of  them,  and  tumbled  them  down  below,  forming  a  broken, 
irregular  descent.  Here  you  follow  a  carriage  path  around 
the  foot  of  the  knoll  on  which  the  house  sits,  and  which 
then  goes  windino;  throuo-h  the  bed  of  the  ravine,  between 
two  towering  bluffs,  till  it  reaches  the  uplands. 

Having  arrived  at  the  gate,  at  the  foot  of  the  sloping 
lawn,  in  front  of  the  house,  I  was  met  by  Major  W.'s  two 
oldest  sons.  They  showed  me  much  attention,  respect  and 
kindness.  The  eldest,  a  recent  graduate  from  Nashville 
Military    Academy,    had  iust  returned  from  a  hunt ;  his 


42  JOTTINGS    OF    A    YEAR'S 

horse  yet  saddled,  with  the  hridle  thrown  loosely  over 
his  neck,  was  croppin^:^  the  Bermuda  grass  on  the  side  of 
the  knoll ;  his  homids  lay  here  and  there,  on  the  side  of  the 
slope,  restinf;  after  the  chase.  The  other  son  was  acting 
overseer  for  the  time  being.  They  excused  their  delay  in 
not  sendinir  a  servant  sooner  to  me  at  Satartia — their  fa- 
tlier  was  from  home  with  the  carriage,  and  the  horses  were 
away,  and  they  had  to  wait  till  their  return. 

"  ]>ut  walk  in,  Mv.  Vax  Buren  ;  this  rain  and  mist  will 
wet  you  through."'  We  walked  up  the  sloping  knoll  to 
the  house.  The  air  was  rather  cool,  and  the  house  so 
open  that  I  felt  e^en  chilly  by  their  fireside.  It  was  near 
noon.  My  first  meal  with  a  planter  I  shall  never  forget. 
We  had  '^  corn-dodgers,"  pork,  some  butter,  sweet  pota- 
toes and  coffee.  But  the  fare,  though  rather  coarse,  was 
a  l)anquet  in  the  cheerful  way  it  was  given.  The  rain  had 
now  increased,  and  it  was  deemed  best  that  I  should  stay 
here  all  night.  I  found  part  of  a  library  in  the  room,  and 
an  old  set  of  college  books.  The  uncle,  who  works. his 
slaves  in  conjunction  with  Major  W.,  has  a  room  here,  and 
these  are  his  books.  He,  too,  is  a  graduate  of  the  Nash- 
ville Military  Academy.  He  is  an  intelligent  young  man, 
has  read  many  books,  in  conversation  is  agreeable,  in  man- 
ners a  very  pleasant  gentleman. 

Dr.  H.,  physician  of  the  immediate  neighborhood,  joined 
us  at  night-fall ;  and  while  the  rain  was  pattering  on  the 
roof,  and  dripping  off  the  eaves,  w^e  conversed  the  time  aAvay 
around  the  cheerful  fireside.  Dr.  H.  is  a  native  of  Indi- 
ana; has  been  here  four  years  as  a  practicing  ph3^sician; 
likes  the  South  well,  but  thought  the  inconvenience  of 
getting  about  here,  and,  at  first,  the  loneliness  of  a  plant- 
er's life,  and  all  of  the  many  things  that  you  would  miss 
here  that  you  enjoyed  at  home,  were  apt  to  induce  a  dis- 
ease on  a  Northerner  that  baffled  the  skill  of  the  physician 


SOJOURN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  43 

aiid  all  his  drugs.  A  disease  as  incident  to  the  stranger  in 
India,  in  Europe,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  as  on  the 
Yazoo  ;  and  though  it  had  baffled  Esculapius  and  all  of 
his  disciples  ever  since,  there  Avas  an  unfailing  specific 
remedy  for  it,  and  that  remedy  every  one  found  at  home. 
Then  if  I  should  get  this  disease,  my  remedy  would  be  to 
take  '■' home-path-ie"  doses,  and  continue  them  till  I  got 
to  Battle  Creek,  Michijian. 

In  the  morning  Master  IIarhy.W.  came  after  me;  his 
mother  requesting  me  to  come  to  the  family  house.  We 
reached  the  uplands  by  the  ascent  of  the  winding  path  re- 
ferred to  above.  The  road  to  the  '"•  Ridge  House"  is  most- 
ly on  the  crest  of  a  ridg-e. 

The  first  thing  I  observed  in  the  woods,  as  new  to  me, 
was  the  lonfi;  moss  hano-ino-  in  dincry  nri'ay  streamers  from 
the  limbs  of  the  trees.  The  whole  tree-top,  like  the  head 
of  Medusa,  before  Mixerya  changed  her  beautiful  locks, 
hung  thick  with  long,  floAving  tresses.  These  streamers 
are  five  or  six  feet  long.  To  see  all  the  trees  draped  with 
them,  it  gives  the  woods  a  lovely  mournfulness — a  beauti- 
ful gloom.  Some  Southern  poet  has  given  this  fine  de- 
scription of  this  moss  : 

'•  There  is  a  little  tangled  moss  that  grows 

Within  our  Southern  clime. 
And  in  the  fanning  breezes  hangs  and  tiows, 

Like  flakes  of  hoary  rime. 
Far  in  the  wild  woods'  lone  recesses, 

Where  the  brown  shadows  seem 
Like  living  things,  its  undulating  tresses 

From  the  long  branches  stream." 

The  oak  and  hickory  predominate  here,  along  these 
ridges ;  the  cane  grows  green  and  luxuriant  in  the  ra- 
vines. The  bay,  or  cucumber  tree,  w^as  pointed  out  to  me. 
It  looked  like  our  bass-wood,  but  its  leaves,  which  had  fall- 


44  JOTTINGS    OF    A   YEAR'S 

en  from  the  tree,  and  now  carpeted  the  ground  with  their 
rich  pale  yellow,  were  three  times  as  large  as  those  of  the 
bass-wood  tree.  The  frosts  come  much  later  here  than  at 
the  North,  though  part  of  the 

"  Forest  has  been  rifled 

By  tlie  gusty  thieves, 
And  the  book  of  nature 

Is  getting  short  of  leaves.'" 

A  few  moments*  ride  .through  the  woods,  and  we  were 
alighting  from  our  horses  at  the  gate  of  the  "  Ridge 
House."  Here  I  met  a  cordial  reception  from  Mrs.  W., 
a  lady  of  true  Southern  frankness — of  a  generous  and  spir- 
ited nature,  and  whose  countenance  expresses  much  of  the 
feeling  of  her  heart.  She  is  an  Arkansas  lady,  passed 
her  early  life  at  Little  Rock,  at  a  time  when  the  Indian 
^'border  feuds"  made  it  necessary  for  Government  to  keep 
military  stations  along  the  lines,  one  of  which  was  at  the 
capital  of  Arkansas.  The  society  of  Little  Rock  had  many 
military  officers  in  it,  hence  it  had  a  tinge  of  "  border 
chivalry."  I  have  heard  her  often  speak  of  dancing  with 
some  of  our  military  chieftains,  who  had  acquired  a  fame 
in  the  "feuds"  of  our  Southern  border — men  who  tripped 

"  The  light  footstep  in  the  dance, 
But  firm  their  stirrup  in  tlie  lists." 

A  relation  of  her  family  has  some  celebrity  as  a  literary 
writer.  She  is  also  a  kin  of  Mrs.  James  K.  Polk.  Soon 
a  very  pretty  young  lady  came  into  the  room,  Avhom  she 
presented  to  me  as  Miss  Mattie  AV.,  her  daughter.  The 
rest  of  the  familv  are  small.  I  met  here  an  interestiniTj 
young  lady  from  the  North,  Miss  Bessie  G.,  their  teach- 
er. She  had  the  bloom  of  the  Northern  rose  in  her  cheek. 
She  came  South,  as  she  afterwards  told  me,  "  for  the  ro- 
mance of  the  thing." 


SOJOURN    IX    THE    SOUTH.  45 

The  family  had  been  expecting  me  for  some  time.  I 
had  brought  letters  of  introduction  to  them  from  my  friend, 
Miss  E.  M.  P.,  of  New  York,  who  had  resided  with  them 
as  a  teacher,  and  who  had  told  me  much  about  them  and 
the  South  ;  so  that  they  had  the  preface  to  an  acquaintance 
with  me  in  my  letters,  and  I  had  a  page  or  two  of  ac- 
quaintance with  them  through  my  friend,  when  we  met. 

The  young  ladies  vrere  about  going  to  church  when  I 
arrived.  After  a  few  moments'  conversation  they  excused 
themselves,  and  Avere  soon  in  their  riding  habits.  Their 
horses  were  brought  to  the  door,  and  after  being  gaily 
seated  in  their  saddles,  they  reined  their  palfreys  round, 
and  with  the  boldness  of  Die  Yerxoxs,  galloped  away 
through  the  woods  to  church.  This,  no  doubt,  was  some- 
thing of  the  "romance  of  life"  that  Miss  G.  was  enjoying 
South. 

Speaking  of  Miss,  let  me  further  add: — I  have  observed 
that,  instead  of  saying  Yliss  G.,  they  say,  Miss  Bessie  ; 
calling  a  young  lady  by  her  christened  name  prefixed  Avith 
Miss.  Also,  in  speaking  of  a  married  Jady,  instead  of  say- 
ing Mrs.,  they  say.  Mistress.  And,  in  addressing,  or  speak- 
ing to  a  person  at  a  little  distance,  especially  if  they  are 
not  answered  the  first  time,  they  use  the  fine  explosive 
monosyllable,  ''Ho  I"  Thus,  Ho,  Mr.  H.  !  Ho,  Miss 
Faxxie  ! 

Here  I  begin  to  see  Southern  life  and  observe  Southern 
manners.  Manners  I  How  soon  Ave  notice  them  in  an- 
other people — notice  only  as  they  vary  from  our  oAvn. 
We  compare  ourselves  Avith  others  and  mark  the  difierence. 
And  there  is  this  about  painting  the  manners  of  a  people — 
first  impressions  are  the  best,  because  the  truest.  One  is  apt 
to  observe  less  of  the  strange  and  novel,  as  he  bides  with 
another  people,  from  the  fact  that  he  adopts  more  or  less 
of  their  manners,  and  hence  does  not  notice  them,  unless 


46  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

he  has  the  individuality  of  an  Arethusa,  and  can  move 
among  them  intact.  One  might  say  that  everything  is 
different  here  from  Northern  life,  and  in  order  to  become 
Southernized,  one  must  go  into  pupilage — become  a  learn- 
er, and  often,  no  doubt,  a  blunderer. 

First,  the  table.  This  I  find  here  with  "greater  varietv 
of  meats  than  at  the  old  plantation-house.  Here  Ave  have 
excellent  ham,  boiled  whole,  a  surloin  of  venison,  and  a 
dainty  steak  from  "old  Bruin,"  occasionally.  Butter  is 
not  so  common  as  it  is  on  our  Northern  tables,  and  wheat 
bread  is  rare,  or  used  in  much  smaller  quantities.  Corn 
bread  is  the  Southron" s  staff  of  life.  This  I  find  on  the 
table  here  of  three  kinds  ;  the  ''muffin,'  Avhich  is  the  size 
of,  but  better  than  our  best  biscuit;  the  "egg-bread," 
which  is  "cousin-overman"  to  our  Johnny-cake,  and  the 
famed  "corn-dodger,"  Avhich  is  oval,  and  about  the  size  of 
one's  hand.  The  sweet  potatoe  is  richer  than  any  of  its 
Irish,  pink-eyed  coushis  ;  and  we  have  the  cousins,  too. 
Coffee  is  here  preferred  to  tea,  but  you  can  have  tea,  or 
milk,  if  you  wish.  One  of  the  servants  acts  as  "aid"  to 
the  waiter  at  table,  bringing  in  warm  viands  to  her,  thus 
keeping  "fresh  supplies"  on  hand  during  the  meal. 

But  the  vounii'  ladies  have  returned  from  church,  and 
say  they  have  heard  the  "  blind  preacher"  Wirt  so  finely 
describes.  An  old,  blind,  itinerant  preacher,  discourses  to 
them  in  a  church,  some  two  miles  away  in  tiie  woods,  among 
the  hollies  and  evergreens.  The  preaclier,  sqrmon,  rural 
scenery  and  all,   would  have  insph-ed,  thev  thou:2;hr,  the 

f  '  k  %.  Cj 

glowing  pen  of  a  Wirt. 


SOJOURN    IX    THE    SOUTH. 


CHAPTEH   IV. 

"  Ridge,  knoll,  ravine,  confusedly  hurled. 
The  formation  of  i\n  earlier  world.'' 

Scott. 

I  ouslit  to  have  v.ritten  to  my  friends  at  lioine  ere  this. 
Emersox,  I  think,  savs.  friends  first,  business  next.  Aixl 
while  I  am  thinking  of  an  apology  for  one,  the  long  list 
of  others  that  are  waiting  for  letters  from  me,  come  throng- 
ing across  my  mind,  till  I  am  not  a  little  confused.  In  fact, 
I  fear  ere  I  get  through  to  the  last,  that  the  apology  will 
return  like  '■''  Xoah's  dove,'"  on  impatient  wing  to  the  South. 

AVhik'  sojourning  a  few  days  at  the  "-Ridge  House,"  I 
had  taken  views  on  horseback  of  much  of  this  part  of 
Mississippi.  This,  ])esides  being  cavalierish,  is  tlie  onlv 
way  we  "  ])eers  of  the  realm"  have  of  riding  here  ;  for  tlie 
rains  make  such  sad  h.avoc  with  the  roads  that  a  heavv 
shower  of  tln-ee  or  foiu"  hours,  and  you  find  your  carriatj^e 
half-spoke  deep  in  mud  or  clay  loam.  And  then,  the  la- 
dies claim  the  carriage,  at  all  times.  A  planter  told  me 
that  he  jiaid  six  hundred  dollars  for  his  carriage  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  though  he  had  had  it  two  years  he  had  never 
rode  a  rod  in  it.  You  often  meet  the  fair  of  tlie  South, 
also,  upon  their  palfreys,  galloping  through  the  woods. 

Our  liorses  are  much  more  spirited  than  theirs,  and  the 
reason  of  it  is  obvious.  They  drive  with  more  uro-inc, 
longer  distances,  and  over  Avorse  roads,  and  take  less  care 
of  their  horses,  than  we  do.  The  planter,  like  the  Bedouin, 
has  his  horse,  of  which  he  is  not  only  sole  proprietor,  but 


48  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

no  one  is  allowed  to  ride  him  but  himself.  Wherever  he 
wishes  to  go,  on  n  short  trip,  or  a  long  journey  over  the 
country,  this  noble  steed  carries  him  on  his  back.  But 
the  Arab  surpasses  him  in  his  love  for  his  horse,  which 
next  to  that  for  "Allah,"  is  the  "Mecca  of  his  heart." 
Neither  does  he  share  his  tent  with  him,  nor  part  of  his 
fare,  but  is  oftener  turned  out  shelterless,  in  the  chilling 
blasts  of  a  Southern  winter,  Avitli  nothing  but  his  moiety 
of  corn,  and  its  dry  leaves  and  "shucks."  The  carriage- 
horses  belong  to  the  planter's  wife.  They  are  seldom  used 
for  any  purpose  save  on  drives  for  her  and  her  daughters. 
Each  son  has  also  his  horse  and  trappings,  the  little  chil- 
dren often  riding  some  steady  and  well-behaved  mule. 

Ridino;  out  in  a  carriao;e  a  short  time  since  with  Mrs. 
W.,  she  rallied  me  about  my  driving — holding  the  reins  so 
tight.  I  told  her  we  "held  in"  our  horses.  She  replied, 
they  "let  theirs  go." 

•  Some  number  of  miles  from  home  we  came  to  a  "  pass," 
different,  but  not  less  difficult  than  that  of  "  Thermopylae." 
I  stopped  the  horses  on  its  margin,  and  surveyed  it.  Tliere 
was  no  vray  of  getting  round  it.  We  must  go  througli  or 
cro  back.  I  asked  her  if  we  should  not,  like  the  Greeks, 
before  s:omcr  to  battle,  consult  the  oracles.  She  replied 
that  I  min-ht  if  I  felt  alarmed,  consult  mv  froddess,  Diana, 
but  let  her  have  the  reins  and  she  Avould  drive  through.  I 
drove  through  safe. 

The  upsetting  of  a  carriage  is  nothing  uncommon.  Tlie 
upland  roads  are  not  so  bad  ;  aside  from  being  rougher, 
those  in  the  valley  are  the  most  formidable.  The  nimble 
steeds  of  your  Northern  liveries  would  soon  become  '"jad- 
ed" in  a  drive  over  these  roads  after  a  rain.  Roads  are  the 
paths  made  to  facilitate  one's  travel  about  the  country — 
they  lead  to  its  improvement — to  wherever  man  has  erect- 
ed a  dwelling  or  built  a  town.     But    I   should   prefer   a 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  49 


k 


a 


cut  off,"  or  take  it  like  a  Yankee,  "cross  lots,"  climb 
fences,  and  risk  the  perils  of  "  bush  and  briar  ;"  or,  were 
I  mounted,  run  the  break-neck  hazards  of  a  steeple-chase 
over  hedge  and  ditch,  to  the  heavy,  treacherous  plodding 
of  these  roads  during  the  wet  seasons. 

What  I  had  seen  of  the  country  in  my  first  travel  over 
it,  was  not  only  novel,  but  interesting  to  me.  My  mind 
had  been  filled  with  the  diffei-ent  scenes  and  pictures  of 
this  new  land,  which,  had  I  the  descriptive  power  to  trans- 
fer to  these  pages,  as  they  first  impressed  me,  I  should  be 
more  satisfied  that  I  had  given  a  true  description  of  this 
part  of  the  South. 

In  the  formation  of  Mississippi,  the  hill  and  mountain 
were  not  thought  of,  or  if  they  were,  they  had  all  been 
lavished  on  the  Alleghanies  and  Andes,  the  Cordilleras 
and  Rocky.  But  everything  else  was,  from  the  level  to 
the  ^^  ultima  tJmle"  of  the  rough.  The  uplands  area 
coarse,  geological  network  of  ridges,  ravines  and  gulleys, 
which  certainly  would  have  ill  adapted  it  to  husbandry, 
had  not  the  plastic  hand  of  nature  formed  here  and  there, 
among  them,  those  beautiful  oases — the  cotton  plantations. 

The  road  often  takes  you  round,  following  the  ridge,  like 
one  of  Saxcho  Panza's  stories,  two  miles  or  more,  when 
it  would  be  shortened  to  thirty  rods  could  you  cross  the 
ravine.  But  as  in  reading  one  is  often  delighted  with 
beautiful  passages,  figures  and  similes  scattered  along  his 
way,  so  in  riding  along  one  of  these  roads  you  are  often 
delighted  in  passing  by  forest  scenery  in  all  its  leafy  rich- 
ness, and  broad  plantations  with  their  beautiful  cotton 
meadows. 

Aside  from  the  plantation  the  country  goes  to  wood- 
land, pasture  and  waste.  You  pass  occasionly  old  planta- 
tions, worn  out  and  deserted,  overgrown  with  sedge  and 
poverty  stricken  weeds. 

D 


50  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

By  referring  to  the  map  of  this  State  you  will  find  that 
the  Yazoo  and  Big  Black  run  nearly  parallel  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi. Mid-way,  running  between  these,  is  a  large 
ridge,  or  back-bone  of  land.  From  this  th<}re  are  ribs  or 
ridges  running  out  on  either  hand  to  the  rivers.  It  is  the 
same  between  the  Mississippi  and  Yazoo.  The  rains  drip- 
ping off  these  ridges,  mingling  with  the  soil  as  they  go, 
turn  torrents  of  muddy  water  into  the  gullies,  w^hich  tum- 
ble it  headlong  into  the  rivers.  Hence  there  are  no  clear 
streams  here.  They  are  all  roily  and  of  lazy  current. 
How  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  country  is  in  the  clear 
waters  of  its  lakes  and  streams.  I  have  seen  no  naiades 
sporting  along  the  banks  of  Southern  streams.  Nor 
have  I  found  here  those  playmates  of  my  boyhood — bub- 
bling runnels  and  whimpering  brooks. 

I  think  that  courtly  old  angler — Izaak  Waltox — would 
find  the  pleasui-e  in  angling  along  these  streams  half  gone. 
Such  as  he  sino;s  of  in  his  "."Ander's  Avish" — 

"  I  in  these  flowry  meads  would  be ; 
These  crystal  streams  should  solace  me  ; 
To  whose  harmonious  bubling  noise 
I  with  my  angle  should  rejoice." 

But  he  that  onlj  feels  the  bite  of  the  fish  loses  the  bet- 
ter part  of  the  sport.  Let  those  politicians,  who,  disliking 
clearness,  seek  the  troubled  w^aters,  fish  here ;  give  me 
clear  streams. 

I  have  only  described  the  uplands.  The  valley-land  is 
along  the  rivers,  and,  is  either  timbered  lands  clear'd 
ofi",  or  natural  prairie.     It  is  the  richest  soil  of  the  South. 

It  is  said  that  the  earth  is  an  old  nurse,  and  that  every 
thing  shows  that  she  is  decrepid  and  wearing  out.  But 
these  valleys  that  have  produced  a  rich  crop  of  cotton, 
year  after  year,  for  more  than  half  a  century,  are  as  fertile 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  51 

to-day,  and  yield  as  large  a  crop  of  cotton,  without  fertil- 
izing, as  they  did  when  first  cultivated. 

Nothing:  is  more  beautiful  than  to  view  this  lonor  wind- 
ino-  valley  from  some  high  bluif  of  the  uplands,  that  wall  it 
in  on  both  sides  of  the  river.  Far  along,  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach,  you  see  both  up  and  do^^Ti  the  stream,  from 
a  half  to  two  miles  wide,  nothing  but  fields  of  "  mimic 
snow,"  doted  here  and  there  with  planters'  residences,  set 
in  green  trees  and  shrubs,  w^hich,  with  the  neat,  white- 
washed, negro  cabins,  ranged  in  rows  near  them,  look  like 
trim  villas  scattered  along  the  vale.  Much  of  the  valley 
is  yet  open  forest-land. 

The  upland  is  finely  timbered,  like  the  best  oak  open- 
ings of  the  North.  The  cypress  grows  in  immense  brakes, 
in  the- swamps,  and  is  their  most  valuable  building  timber. 
It  is  floated  down  the  Yazoo  and  the  Mississipi,  in  large 
raftS)  by  lumbermen,  to  New  Orleans.  There  are  large 
pine  forests  in  many  parts  of  the  State. 

That  beautiful  and  richest  leafed  of  all  trees — the 
magnolia — you  find  here,  standing  among  the  gum,  the 
oak,  and  the  hickory,  like  a  rich  prince  among  his  vassals. 
The  holly  too  is  here.  The  high  leaves  have  no  prickles 
on  them,  while  the  lower  ones  have.  Hence  Southey 
sings  of  it — 

"Gentle  among  my  friends  I"cl  be, 
Like  the  high  leaves  of  the  holly  tree." 

These  evergreen  hollies  and  magnolias  standing  among 
the  common  trees,  seem  like  beautiful  pledges  of  another 
spring,  to  the  leafless  forest,  and  one  loves  to  catch  the 
emblem  and  carry  it  out  to  an  immortal  spring  time  in  the 
paradise  of  the  blest. 

I  have  often  rein'd  my  horse  from  the  road  up  to  these 
lovely  trees  and  stood  and  admired  them. 


52  JOTTINGS  or  A  year's 

The  mistletoe  rather  took  me  by  surprise.  I  had  for- 
gotten that  I  vfould  find  it  here. 

This  bough — for  that  is  all  there  is  of  it — like  the  fabled 
account  of  the  bird  of  j^aradise,  never  touches  the  earth. 
It  grows  upon  the  tops  of  trees.  You  can  see  their  ever- 
green plumes,  perched  here  and  there  all  through  the 
woods,  upon  the  high  and  leafless  branches  of  the  trees. 
Where  they  are  thick  they  often  kill  the  tree.  They  are 
said  to  be  propagated  by  the  birds. 

The  cane  grows  in  luxuriance  all  through  the  woods; 
but  the  cattle  and  deer  feed  it  down,  save  in  the  ravines, 
that  are  inaccessible  to  them.  Here  it  shoots  up  into  a 
rank,  dense,  deep-green  growth.  This  cane  affords  pas- 
turage for  the  cattle  in  the  winter.  The  planter  raises  no 
grasses,'  no  clovers.  What  little  fodder  he  needs  is  sup- 
plied by  the  blades  of  corn  his  negroes  pick  from  the  corn 
stalks,  and  the  corn  "shucks"  which  he  feeds  his  cows. 
Millet  is  raised  in  some  places. 

The  apple  tree  does  not  do  well  here.  A'^vorm  troub- 
les it  much.  Its  fruit  is  coarser  than  ours.  Pears  are 
raised  in  some  localities  plentifully.  The  peaches,  they 
tell  me,  rival  the  famed  ones  of  Jersey. 

The  planters'  houses  are  mostly  alike  in  style  of  build- 
ing. They  are  long,  log,  story-and-a-half  structures,  ver- 
andaed  in  front  and  rear,  with  an  open  hall  in  the  middle. 
They  are  elevated  from  the  ground  for  coolness  in  sum- 
mer, and  retreat  back  from  the  road,  like  the  old  English 
cottage,  spreading  out  broad  lawns  in  front  of  them. 
They  are  generally  surrounded  with  beautiful  trees  and 
shrubbery,  much  of  it  in  evergreen,  making  even  the  rud- 
est log  building  look  romantic. 

In  thus  adorning  their  grounds  about  their  dwellings, 
and  in  cultivating  a  rich  variety  of  flowers  in  their  gar- 
dens, the  planters  exhibit  fine  taste. 


SOJOURN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  ,  53 

But  there  is  one  plant  he  cultivates,  which,  ifit  does  not 
exhibit  his  taste,  does  his  wealth ;  and  that,  in  common 
parlance,  is  called  the  cotton  plant.  Mississippi  is  a  cot- 
ton growing  State.  She  stands,  i\mong  the  other  States, 
unrivaled  in  this  field.  This  little  plant  is  the  wealth  of 
the  Ind  to  her.  It  has  many  enemies  among  the  vermin, 
freshet  and  blio-ht.  But  the  season  is  kind  to  it ;  it  is  as 
tender  over  it  as  a  lover  over  his  mistress  ;  not  allowing 
the  winds  of  March  to  visit  it  too  rouo-hly,  nor  the  cold 
storms  of  December  to  hinder  its  beino;  gathered  in. 

They  are  the  whole  year  attending  to  it.  One  crop  is 
scarcely  secured  ere  another  is  planted.  It  brings  the 
planter  about  forty  dollars  per  acre.  Think  of  seven  hun- 
dred acres — that  is  not  a  large  plantation — yielding  him 
more  than  Buchanan's  salary.  Planters  make  more 
money  than  Presidents.  The  modern  adage — ''  Cotton  is 
king" — that  one  often  hears  in  reference  to  the  influence 
this  little  plant  gives  to  the  planter,  in  home  and  foreign 
trade,  is,  in  the  richest  sense  of  the  word,  true. 

Finally,  what  strikes  one  as  novel  here,  aside  from 
the  forest  with  its  peculiar  Southern  trees — the  plantation 
with  its  vast  and  almost  interminable  fields  of  cotton — is, 
you  see  no  farm-land,  no  farm-home,  with  its  orchards  la- 
den with  fruit,  with  its  small  and  well  fenced  fields  of  the 
various  grains,  grasses  and  clovers ;  you  see  nothing  of 
the  farming  North,  save  the  corn-field,  and  that,  with  a 
crop  of  such  luxuriant  growth  that  you  would  notice  it  as 
novel  too. 

Place  Michigan  where  she  was  twenty  years  ago,  in  the 
rude  days  of  her  pioneer  life,  with  her  log  houses,  scat- 
tered here  and  there,  three  or  four,  and  sometimes  seven 
or  eight  miles  apart,  over  the  Southern  portion  of  her  ter- 
ritory, and  give  each  a  farm  of  from  one  to  ten  thousand 

acres,  with  from  three  hundred  to  three  thousand   acres 

0 
I 


54  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

cultivated  on  it,  and  you  have  something  of  an  idea  hoTV 
Mississippi  is  settled. 

I  have  thus  given  a  crude  sketch  of  this  part  of  the 
South.  I  have  only  seen  it  in  fall  and  winter.  What  it 
will  be  in  full  leaf  and  bloom,  spring  and  summer  will  tell. 

It  is  said  the  South,  like  Calypso,  has  a  smile  and  a 
charm  for  every  one  of  her'  defects  ;  and  not  only  detains 
her  guests  seven  years,  but  usually  the  threescore  and  ten. 

In  regard  to  myself,  after  a  sojourn  of  some  months,  I 
like  her  very  much.  I  like  her  warm-heartedness  and  hos- 
pitality, which,  though  proverbial,  is  not  all  in  the  prov- 
erb. I  like  her  beautiful  climate,  which  has. all  the  mild- 
ness of  the  temperate  zone.  I  like  her  fine  country,  which 
has  all  the  luxuriance  of  the  tropics. 

I  have  drawn  a  sort  of  geographical  map  of  the  country 
over  which  my  adventures  were  made  in  search  of  a  school, 
previous  to  giving  their  narrative,  that  you  may  better  un- 
derstand it  when  given. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

"  Half  the  ease  and  comfort  he  enjoys, 

Is  when  surrounded  by  slates,  books  and  boys." 


Crabbe. 


There  was  a  species  of  the  liomo  genus  that  Plato  did 
not  include  when  he  defined  man — "A  biped  without  feath- 
ers ;"  and  which  DiOGENES  illustrated  by  stripping  the 
plumes  from  a  "rooster,"  and  presenting  it  as  Plato's 
man. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  5^ 

Neither  did  Buffon  include  it,  when  he  chissified  the 
animal  kingdom,  gi^'ing  man  his  proper  place. 

Bacon  came  nearer  including  this  ''  sui  generis"  when 
he  said  "  Man  was  science  added  to  nature."  And  the 
great  Luther  actually  dignified  him,  by  giving  him  a  po- 
sition not  second  to  that  of  the  minister  of  the  gospel.  Of 
the  various  descriptions  and  portraits  given  of  him  we  have 
space  only  for  one. 

"  He  was  tall  but  exceedingly  lank,  with  narrow  shoul- 
ders, large  arms  and  legs,  hands  that  dangled  a  mile  out 
of  his  sleeves,  feet  that  might  have  served  for  shovels,  and 
his  whole  frame  most  loosely  hung  together.  His  head 
was  small,  and  flat  at  top,  with  huge  ears,  large  green, 
glassy  eyes,  a  long  snipe  nose,  so  that  it  looked  like  a 
weather-cock  perched  upon  his  spindle-neck  to  tell  which 
way  the  wind  blew.  To  see  him  striding  along  the  profile 
of  a  hill,  on  a  wintry  day,  w^ith  his  clothes  bagging  and 
fluttering  about  him,  one  might  have  mistaken  him  for  the 
Genius  of  Famine  descending  upon  the  earth,  or  some 
scarecrow  eloped  from  a  cornfield." 

To  complete  the  picture,  let  us  draw  his  house. 

"  It  was  a  low  building  of  one  large  room,  rudely  con- 
structed of  logs ;  the  windows  partly  glazed  and  partly 
patched  with  leaves  torn  from  old  copy-books.  It  was 
most  ingeniously  secured  at  vacant  hours,  by  a  withe 
twisted  in  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  stakes  set  against 
the  window  shutters,  'so  that  though  a  thief  might  get  in 
with  perfect  ease,  he  would  find  some  embarrassment  in 
getting  out." 

This  portrait  is  given  as  one,  of  course,  of  the  common 
kind,  drawn  too  by  a  writer  who  owes  so  much  of  his  ce- 
lebrity as  a  charming  author,  to  one  not  much  inferior, 
perhaps,  to  hini  that  sat  for  the  pen^portrait  we  have  given. 

But  why  this  personage  should  be  the  subject  of  bur- 


56  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S  . 

Icsque,  and  have  his  common  faults  portrayed  by  the  hu- 
morist, for  the  amusement  of  mankind,  I  never  could  de- 
termine. Though  we  could  give  an  instance,  in  our  own 
land,  in  which  one  of  these  humble  individuals  has  shaped 
and  moulded  the  character  of  such  men  as  the  distinguished 
Buckingham,  Salstonstall,  the  great  Webster,  the 
statesman  Cass,  the  historian  Bancroft,  both  the  Ever- 
ETTS,  Alexander  and  Edward — the  American  Cicero. 

They  were  all  prepared  for  the  parts  they  have  acted, 
and  are  acting,  by  the  individual  of  whom  we  speak. 

He  has  ever  been  supposed  to  be  a  composition  of  use- 
ful drudgery,  petty  tyranny,  indifferent  respectability, 
some  considerable  learning,  and  any  amount  of  patience 
and  endurance.  And  his  occupation  has  seldom  received 
a  higher  name  than — Knowledge  made  accessible  by  means 
of  the  birch.  Though  like  the  great  Athenian,  wherever 
he  goes,  he  is  followed  by  a  crowd  of  the  youth  of  the 
land,  eager  to  catch  his  words  of  wisdom  ;  yet,  like  that 
great  and  good  Greek,  though  a  benefactor  and  most  use- 
ful man,  his  earnest  and  unwearied  labor  is  ill  requited ; 
oftener  by  the  "hemlock,"  than  by  deserved  reward. 

I  am  not  a  misanthrope  and  accuse  mankind  of  being 
ungrateful — I  know  i^eople  are — to  their  benefactors  ;  but 
I  am  one  of  the  class  I  have  been  trying  to  portray — a 
pedagogue  ;  and  with  the  learned  Paul  I  would  "magni- 
fy mine  office" — have  better  school-houses,  those  more  fit- 
ted to  the  great  importance  of  their  use.  And  I  would  do 
it  for  the  same  reason  that  Cicero  defended  the  literature 
and  learning  of  Rome — for  my  country — for  its  freedom 
and  prosperity. 

"  The  English  alphabet  is  a  more  powerful  weapon  for 
its  protection,  than  the  bayonet.  Tlie  school-teacher  is  a, 
more  efficient  man  for  its  defense,  than  the  soldier.  And 
those  little  school-houses,  scattered  all  over  our  land,  are 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  57 

better  than  forts  and  arsenals  for  securing  its  freedom  and 
prosperity. 

How  many  of  this  class  have  sought  the  South,  I  know 
not.  But  I  know  that  the  long  catalogue  has  another 
name  on  it  this  morning.  There  is  another  one  on  the 
list  of  those  whose  services,  like  the  Roman  poet's  hero — 

"  Half  with  Phoebus  grace  did  find, 
And  'tother  half  was  whistled  down  the  wind." 

By  many  Northern  teachers,  the  Roe's  egg  is  supposed 
to  be  lacking  to  their  temple  of  fame,  one  wreath  wanting 
in  their  chaplet,  till  they  are  won  in  the  South.  Besides, 
a  sojourn  here  would  always  be  remembered  as  a  fine  ep- 
isode in  their  lives. 

I  had  sought  the  South,  not  so  mucli  to  win  this  '^  ped- 
agoguic  laurel,"  as  to  find  a  healing  balm  in  its  mild  and 
healthy  climate  for  my  injured  health. 

Having  ascertained  that  the  school  I  was  to  take  charge 
of,  on  my  arrival  here,  was  yet  in  session,  and  rather  than 
wait  a  month  or  two  for  its  term  to  close,  with  a  little  of 
the  bitter  of  uncertainty  about  getting  it  at  all,  to  make 
waiting  unpleasant,  I  concluded,  during  the  while,  to  go 
out  in  search  of  a  school,  and  thus  see  more  of  the  country 
and  people. 

"  There  are  some  men  who  carry  letters  of  recommend- 
ation in  their  faces,  which  are  received  and  credited  on 
presentation."  But  rather  than  trust  to  my  face  alone, 
as  a  rcommendation  to  the  South,  especially  at  a  time 
when  she  was  in  no  little  ''huff"  with  the  North,  I  car- 
ried them  in  "little  four  nooked  billets,"  with  which  my 
friend,  before  mentioned,  had  favored  me. 

Having  ordered  my  horse,  this  morning,  I  mounted  him 
— taking  seat  in  a  Mexican  saddle,  which  was  like  sitting 
between   the  two  humps  on  a  camel's  back — and  started 


58  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

out  to  deliver  my  letters  of  introduction  to  the  several 
planters  to  whom  they  were  directed.  Major  W.  was  not 
at  home — hence  I  went  alone. 

Leaving  the  Ridge  House,  I  rode  along  on  a  level  road ; 
a  fine  open  wood  on  one  side,  and  in  it  I  saw,  not  over  half 
a  mile  from  the  family  mansion,  a  small  wood-colored 
school-house,  modestly  retired  from  the  road,  seated  on  a 
little  eminence,  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  wooded  land- 
scape. 

It  was  Bellevue  Academy  ;  built  by  Major  W.  and  some 
of  his  neighbors. 

Here  Miss  G.  was  urging  the  little  Southron  youth 
along  the  flowery  path  of  knowledge. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  road  was  an  old  deserted  plant- 
ation, lying  with  its  broad  rolling  acres  to  the  sun ;  cov- 
ered with  sedge,  and  tall,  ragged  weeds. 

But  it  was  a  relief  to  look  to  my  right,  having  passed 
the  wood,  to  see  a  corn-field  with  its  tall  rustling  stalks 
bendino;  over  with  their  Ions;  unhusked  ears.  The  corn  was 
what  we  of  Michigan  call  the  white  and  yellow  dent,  but 
it  grew  much  taller. 

Something  over  a  mile  brought  me  to  an  old  weather- 
beaten,  two-story  shell  of  a  house,  though  on  a  command- 
ing site,  and  with  some  pretensions  to  cornice  and  finish- 
ings on  the  outside.  It  was  on  the  deserted  plantation. 
I  began  to  question  my  directions'  being  right,  that  this 
was  Dr.  J.'s  residence.  It  looked  so  forsaken  and  tenant- 
less,  and  as  I  hallooed, 

'*  Methought  an  answer  met  my  ear, — 
Yet  was  the  sound  so  low  and  drear, 
So  hollow  and  so  faintly  blown, 
It  might  be  echo  of  my  own." 

I  heard  nothing  but  my  own  voice  resounding  in  the  va- 
cant hall  and  apartments ;  and  as  I  waited,  in  vain,  for 


SOJOURN    IN   THE    SOUTH.  59 

some  one  to  come  to  the  door,  to  see  them  moving  about 
in  the  house,  or  among  the  trees,  I  began  to  fear,  that  if 
I  waited  too  long,  I  should  see  something  unreal ;  and  was 
reining  my  horse  around,  to  depart,  when  I  saw  a  boy 
come  limping  through  the  hall.  He  came  up,  looking  at 
me  with  such  a  fine  pair  of  black  eyes,  and  with  such  an 
intelligent  face,  that  I  resumed  myself  and  asked  him,  if 
Dr.  J.  did  not  live  here,  and  was  at  home. 

He  did,  but  he  and  his  lady  were  away  on  a  visit. 

Getting  the  directions  to  Mr.  H.'s  plantation,  I  rode  by 
a  rather  small  field,  thickly  flecked  with  cotton  and  dotted 
with  negroes,  before  whom  the  white  flakes  vanished  like 
snow  before  a  summer  sun. 

Passing  a  rough,  log  house  in  a  large  clump  of  oaks,  I 
came  in  sight  of  the  plantation  sought.  It  had  more  the 
appearance  of  thrift  about  it  than  many  I  had  seen.  I 
noticed  a  little  log  blacksmith's  shop  hard  by  the  ''  quar- 
ters," which  were  comfortable  log  cabins  in  rows  by  the 
roadside.  His  plantation-house  stood  amid  shade-trees, 
but  each  one  had  just  spread  its  carpet  of  leaves  about  it, 
so  that  you  saw,  unhid  by  the  foliage,  a  plain  log  build- 
ing, with  the  usual  porch  and  open  hall  in  the  middle. 

Mr.  H.  is  a  very  frank  gentleman  ;  he  has  a  head  of 
fine  cast ;  he  reminded  me  of  Senator  Stuart,  of  Michigan, 
though  with  a  complexion  of  true  Southern  bronze.  I 
should  think  him  a  prompt,  business  man. 

After  reading  my  letter,  he  told  me  that  should  I  need 
any  of  his  assistance  in  securing  a  situation  as  teacher 
among  them,  it  would  be  cheerfully  given. 

At  my  departure  he  gave  me  the  names  of  several  gen- 
tlemen interested  in  schools,  in  Mechanicsburgh — a  small 
village  some  eight  miles  distant. 

In  the  afternoon,  which  is  termed  evening  here,  and  the 
forenoon  morning,  I  rode  over  a  part  of  the  country  roll- 


60  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

ing  and  broken  with  ridges,  but  finely  wooded  with 
oak  and  hickory,  which  were  all  draped  with  the  long 
streaming  moss,  and  often  thickly  hung  with  trailing  fes- 
toons of  the  grape-vine.  The  primitive  beauties  of  the 
forest  had  not  been  marred,  save  in  the  more  tillable  and 
level  portions  of  the  country,  where  the  plantations  spread 
out  their  broad  and  showy  fields  ;  yet  the  green  is  lacking 
on  the  earth,  except  where  the  young  shoots  of  the  cane, 
strange  weeds,  and  scattering  wild  flowers  that  the  cattle 
and  deer  have  not  fed  down  are  growing  among  the  loose 
and  variegated  carpet  of  leaves. 

Here,  in  the  lonely  woods,  a  little  apart  from  the  road- 
side, stands  quite  a  large  wood-colored  church,  built  of  cy- 
press. It  is  the  church  in  which  our  young  ladies — men- 
tioned a-back — had  heard  the  blind  preacher  discourse  "of 
that  better  land  far  away,"  last  Sabbath.  Farther  on, 
away  in  the  field,  I  saw  a  large  white  frame  building, 
looking  like  a  country  tavern;  —  it  was  a  plantation 
house. 

Passing  by  a  little  frame  building,  that  had  once  been  a 
store,  but  was  now  occupied  by  a  carpenter  from  Pennsyl- 
vania, who  lives  here  among  the  planters,  and  works  at  his 
trade — commandino;  wacres  at  from  three  to  five  dollars 
per  day — I  heard  the  sound  of  an  anvil.  It  had  really 
the  brawny  smithy's  musical  ring  in  it. 

On  reaching  the  shop — a  low  shanty — I  saw  a  white 
smith  at  the  forge,  and  a  black  smith  at  the  bellows.  The 
latter  is  Major  "\Y.'s  Horace  who  is  an  apprentice  to  the 
trade  here. 

Between  this  shop  and  Mechanicsburgh  I  passed  several 
plantations — some  small  and  very  good  looking  ones,  one 
larger,  with  a  rail  fence  straggling  round  it,  fallen  down 
and  broken  in  places,  as  if  discouraged  in  the  idea  of  en- 
closing such  impoverished  fields  ;  and  one  with  a  nursery 


SOJOURN    IN   THE    SOUTH.  61 

on  it.  You  see  no  orchards  laden  with  rich  fruit  near  the 
planter's  house.  A  few  scattering  apple  and  peach  trees 
are  all  the  orchards  they  have. 

Mechanicsburgh  is  a  ragged,  uninviting  town. 

"  'Tis  not  wliat  my  fancy  painted  it — 
I'm  sadly  taken  in." 

I  claim  for  it,  par  excellence,  the  title  of  odd.  I  believe 
I  said  more  than  twenty  times  while  riding  through  it — 
'•  How  odd  !" 

The  road  by  which  one  approaches  it,  separates  into  two 
branches  just  after  you  get  into  the  place.  One  of  these 
branches  follows  off  a  crooked  ridge,  and  the  other  takes 
an  indifferent  course — neither  straight  nor  crooked. 

The  houses  are  built  alono;  these  roads — odd  lookins; 
streets. 

Though  the  place  was  founded  by  mechanics,  there  is 
nothing  square — straight  or  regular  about  it — it  is  built 
by  "  hook  and  by  crook." 

It  has  a  "  Grocery  and  Provision  Store,"  a  wagon  and 
shoe  shop,  a  brick  building  for  an  Odd  Fellow's  Lodge, 
and  a  school-house  a  mile-  out  of  town.  To  that  I  am 
going. 

Coming  in  sight,  I  noticed  a  building — a  little  weather- 
beaten  straggler  from  the  village — that  had  stopped  here 
by  the  road-side,  under  a  few  umbrageous  oaks,  as  if  for 
protection.  A  stick  chimney  run  up  at  one  end,  on  the 
outside,  high  enough  to  smoke  one  of  its  gables ; — some  of 
its  window  panes  were  out,  and  some  were  patched,  and 
some  were  budding  with  jackets  and  shawls. 

Hitching  my  horse  to  the  fence,  I  rapped  at  the  door, 
and — peace  to  his  maves — "  Domine  Sampson"  opened  it, 
and  gave  me  one  of  his  earnest,  quisitorial  stares.  But  his 
face  was  round  and  fuller,  his  shoulders  broader,  and  his 


62  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR's 

whole  frame  more  solid.  lie  was  not  as  "  lank  and  spare" 
as  usual.  He  had  just  got  the  new  suit  Col.  Mannering 
had  given  him  ;  it  even  looked  better  and  more  fashionable  ; 
his  boots  were  highly  polished ;  he  was  dressed,  in  fine, 
like  a  Broadway  dandy.  It  was  said  he  changed  his 
"  dickey"  every  day. 

A  chain  was  hitched  in  a  button  hole  of  his  vest,  which 
led  to  an  opera  glass  in  his  pocket.  This  he  took  out 
whenever  any  of  his  pupils  brought  their  "sums"  to  him 
on  their  slates,  and  placing  it  to  his  eye,  would  glance  over 
and  correct  them. 

It  was  time  for  recess,  of  which  fact  he  resolved  the  pu- 
pils by  announcing  in  authoritative  tones,  "  The  hoys  may 
go  out.'^ 

At  the  word,  books  and  slates  dropped ;  some  on  the 
desk,  and  some  on  the  floor  ;  some  were  caught  half  way 
in  the  descent,  and  some  were  knocked  off  the  desk  by 
the  pupils  hurrying  and  crowding  by  in  their  haste  to  get 
out. 

After  this  little  "jail  delivery,"  I  had  a  few  moments' 
conversation  with  the  teacher. 

He  was,  he  said,  giving  instructions  in  the  common 
branches,  mostly.  He  had  a  few  scholars  in  Trigonometry, 
yet  he  did  not  teach  Algebra.  He  had  no  black-board, 
nor  other  facilities  for  the  learner  and  teacher.  He  was 
teaching  in  the  good  old  way  they  used  to  teach,  when 
they  hung  witches  in  Salem,  and  Avhippcd  people  for  not 
attending  church  on  Sunday,  in  Boston.  It  was  glorious, 
because  it  had  the  prestige  of  time  immemorial  to  sanc- 
tion it. 

Each  girl  o^  boy  was  cyphering  on  his  or  her  "  own 
hook  ;"  this  made  them  independent ;  they  did  not  borrow 
from  one  another  ;  and  when  either  had  done  their  "  sum" 
or  lesson,  it  was  heard,  one  after  another,  through  to  the 

< 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  63 

end  of  the  class,  which  was  scattered  all  along  through  the 
book,  and  no  two  on  the  same  page. 

Thus  he  urged  his  pupils,  "  Indian  file,"  along  the  wind- 
ing trail  of  knowledge. 

I  don't  know,  to  use  the  Domine's  own  favorite  adjec- 
tive, but  what  they  got  along — "•  pro-di-gious''' — ly,  by 
this  method  of  teaching.  I  presume  old  Cotton  Mather 
when  a  school  boy,  studied  the  same  way ;  and  that 
Ichabod  Crane  taught  by  the  same  method. 

He  told  me,  during  our  short  chat,  that  he  was  the  old- 
est teacher  in  the  county  ;  having  taught  in  it  fifteen  years. 
Here  was  the  prestige  of  ripe  experience  that  the  Domine 
did  not  have.  But  though  he  had  ajl  of  the  ignorance,  he 
had  not  a  tithe  of  the  latter's  learning.  Still  his  head  was 
stored  with  the  reading  of  many  a  learned  page,  and  his 
mind  had  the  discipline  from  solving  many  a  profound  prob- 
lem in  Mathematics. 

And  it  was  told  me,  that,  at  evening,  the  ''  ingle"  of  his 
boarding-place  was  merry  with  his  jokes  and  repartees,  and 
amused  and  instructed  by  his  stories,  in  which  he  displayed 
so  much  wit  and  learning,  that  he  had  the  name  of  being 
a  fine  classical  scholar. 

He  was  a  true  son  of  the  Emerald  isle — and  had  the 
"rich  brogue"  of  his  mother  tongue  in  his  speech.  He 
was  not  going  to  leave  his  school,  as  I  had  been  informed. 
But  Mr.  C. — he  informed  me — a  planter  some  eight  miles 
from  this  place,  wished  to  ''  get  up  a  school"  near  his 
home. 

Getting  the  "bearings"  of  my  course — the  "points 
and  bends"  in  the  road — here  is  where  one's  Geometry  is 
useful  to  him,  when  he  is  to  describe  on  horse-back,  the 
angles,  points  and  curves — the  whole  intricate  problem  of 
his  route,  he  really  needs  the  "  discipline  of  Trigonom- 


64  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

etry^''  that  the  Dominc  told  me  Avas  so  highly  essential  to 
one's  mind. 

After  riding  a  mile  or  two,  I  lost  my  direction.  Had 
not  learned  my  lesson  well  that  the  teacher  had  just  given 
me.  Could  not  tell  whether  to  describe  an  acute  angle,  or 
keep  on  in  the  straight  road. 

Here  I  am  in  one  of  those  "  brown  studies"  that  my  class- 
mate, P.,  of  the  "  Old  Branch,"  Kalamazoo,  Michigan — 
— and  here's  a  sigh  for  those  schoolmates  and  halcyon 
school-days — used  to  get  into.  He  invariably  broke  down, 
when  about  half  way  through  with  the  description  of  a 
problem  in  Geometry. 

One  day,  determined  not  to  fail  again,  he  not  only 
doubled  his  diligence,  but  the  time  in  getting  the  lesson. 
And  then  to  make  sure  he  came  to  me  with  it,  and  want- 
ed I  should  play  Prof.  S.,  and  hear  him  go  over  it  once 
more.  I  took  the  book  and  played  the  Professor — Euclid 
himself  could  not  have  beaten  him.  He  went  through 
with  it  correctly — shouted,  ^^ Eureka!''  and  we  went  in 
to  recite.  * 

P.  was  called  on — "took  the  board" — his  sweetheart 
was  in  the  class — and,  after  a  fair  commencement,  he  came 
to  one  of  his  usual  "dead  sets,"  which  he  always  mani- 
fested by  scratching  his  head ;  and  that  was  the  sign  for 
the  class  to  begin  laughing,  which  they  did  now  in  earnest. 

But  he  had  taken  a  Hannibal  oath  not  to  fail  on  this 
problem.  He  looked  around,  caught  the  eye  of  his  "  dul- 
cena,"  received  inspiration,  and,  began  again.  "There's 
^," — it  was  on  an  acute  angle — then  scratched  his  head, 
and — took  his  seat  amid  the  loudest  applause  of  our  class. 

No  orator  on  commencement-day  ever  left  the  stage 
with  greater  acclaim. 

Poor  E.  !  here  is  the  acute  angle  ;  and  I  have  come  to 
one  of  your  "  stands  ;"  but  I  have  no  Legendre,  nor  even 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  65 

the  Domine,  back  here,  to  set  me  right.  I  must  ride  back, 
I  don't  know  how  far — it  seemed  three  miles — and  sret  the 
directions  to  Mr.  C.'s.  • 

^'  Keep  the  straight  road,"  is  the  answer  I  received. 

After  riding  over  a  country  undulating  with  low,  sweep- 
ing hills,  and  passing  some  new  plantations,  I  finally  lost 
sight  of  both  new  and  old,  and  night-fall  came  upon  me  in 
the  woods. 

It  soon  grew  dark,  and  in  vain  I  looked  to  the  heavens 
for  moonlight  or  starlight. 

The  deep  forest  about  me  was  draped  in  sombre  moss, 
and  the  sky  overhead  was  draped  in  sombre  clouds.  There 
was  no  doubt  which  road  to  take  now.  I  gave  the  reins 
to  my  horse  and  trusted  to  him  to  keep  a  road. 

Riding  so  for  a  long,  long  while,  describing  turns  and 
angles  in  the  road,  in  the  dark,  and  doubting  whether  I 
was  on  the  right  road  or  not — going  to  or  from  my  point 
of  destination — having  seen  no  light  or  signs  of  a  planta- 
tion near,  I  began  to  think  of  being  lost  in  the  woods — of 
spending  a  night  among  the  wolves. 

I  never  disliked  to  entertain  a  thought  so  bad  in  my 
life  ;  it  haunted  me  like  a  hungry  wolf,  as  I  rode  along  in 
these  mournful,  gloomy  woods. 

"But  suddenly  I  saw  a  light,  afar  off,  glimmering  through 
the  trees. 

"  How  far  that  little  candle  throws  its  beams !" 

How  far  I  could  not  tell,  or  whether  I  was  riding  nearer 
to  it  every  moment. 

When,  as  suddenly  I  saw  it,  it  disappeared.  It  was  ijo 
time  for  being  poetical,  but  it  was  a  time  when  one  feels 
the  meaning  and  deep  sentiment  of  poetry.  I  question 
whether  Scott  ever  felt  the  full  force  and  truth  of  the  fol- 
lowing lines  of  his,  as  I  did,  as  they  occui'red  to  me  here  : 

E 


66  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

"Oft  he  looks  back,  while,  streaming  far, 
His  cottage  window  seems  a  star, — 
Loses  its  feeble  gleam, — and  then 
Turns  patient  to  the  blast  again." 

I  was  left  alone  and  could  only  trust  now  to  the  instinct 
of  my  liorse  to  keep  the  road. 

Again  I  caught  the  light ;  and  it  occurred  to  me  rather 
than  lose  it,  I  had  better  strike  a  straight  line  to  it.  But 
that  would  be  dangerous.  To  keep  the  road  was  my  der- 
nier resort. 

Thus  I  rode,  losing  and  catching  that  light,  glimmering 
through  the  trees,  like  the  gloamings  of  hope  to  cheer  me 
on  my  lone  and  dreary  way,  till  it  finally  disappeared,  and 
I  could  only  urge  on  my  horse  in  the  dark,  who  was  tired, 
but  not  as  much  as  his  rider. 

But  I  could  now  perceive,  by  peering  into  the  darkness, 
that  I  was  no  longer  in  the  woods ;  an  opening  seemed  to" 
be  each  side  of  me,  and  there  also  appeared  to  be  the  dark 
form  of  a  fence  on  either  hand.  This  was  a  relief  thouojh 
the  light  was  gone.  I  spurred  on  my  horse.  But  the 
plantation  might  be  one  of  those  with  fences  three  or  four 
miles  long ;  and  what  if  it  was  an  old  deserted  one  !  This 
left  me  deserted  of  even  a  cheering  thought. 

But  while  busied  with  these  lonely  thoughts  along  my 
lonely  way,  my  horse  suddenly  turned  off  from  the  road. 
Trusting  to  the  faithful  animal,  I  gave  him  the  reins,  and 
he  was  soon  walking  around  among  cattle  lying  in  a  barn- 
yard, I  supposed. 

The  observing  creature  had  noticed  an  opening  in  the 
fence,  and  had  left  the  road  and  gone  through  it. 

I  alighted — felt  with  my  cane  and  found  that  we  were 
near  a  fence — palings,  it  must  be,  around  a  house.  I 
hitched  my  horse  to  them,  and  walked  along  by  them,  till 
I  came  to  a  corner,  described  a  right  angle,  and  continu- 


SOJOURN   IX    THE   SOUTH.  67 

ing  on  I  found  a  gate.  Felt  for  a  latch,  but  it  was  like 
Muggins'  feeling  for  the  kej-hole — Mrs.  Muggins  must 
have  pulled  it  inside.  Reaching  over  I  found  the  latch. 
Walking  into  the  yard  I  observed  a  light  shining  out 
from  the  crevices  in  the  door  of  a  house.  I  walked  up  the 
three  or  four  steps  that  usually  lead  to  a  planter's  porch — 
went  to  the  door  and  rapped. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"  Yet  various  my  romantic  theme 
Flits  winds  and  shifts — a  morning  dream  ; 
Through  Southern  snowy  meads  it  goes, 
Where  Southern  wealth  around  me  flows." 


Scott. 


The  door  was  opened  by  a  man  of  aldermanic  dimen- 
sions, large  gray  eyes,  and  cheeks  that  needed  no  swelling 
whiskers  to  make  them  full.  The  silvery  honors  had  fall- 
en from  his  head,  and  their  place  had  been  supplied  by  a 
thatching  made  from  the  auburn  locks  of  youth. 

Sitting  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  I  saw  R.,  the  teacher, 
from  New  York,  that  I  had  met  on  the  "  Home,"  coming 
up  the  Yazoo. 

This  was  the  plantation  of  his  relative — the  gentleman 
I  have  described,  and  to  whom  he  now  introduced  me. 

Mr.  D.,  that  was  his  name,  is  sixty  years  of  age.  He 
is  a  native  of  the  Empire  State,  which  he  left  forty  years 
ago,  and  came  South  as  a  teacher. 


68  JOTTINGS  or  A  year's 

He  had  taught  school  here  in  his  o^-n  neighborhood, 
where  he  married  a  Southern  lady  of  considerable  fortune, 
to  which  he  has  added  until  he  has  come  into  possession 
of  the  plantation  he  now  owns.  During  this  time  he  has 
become  a  true  Southron.  His  wife  dying,  some  few  years 
ago,  left  him  with  a  competency  for  life,  enjoying  which 
he  will  here,  though  not  as  a  widower,  perhaps, 

"  Husband  out  life's  taper  to  its  close." 

But  my  first  inquiry  was,  whether  I  could  find  lodging 
for  the  night,  and  my  second  was,  like  Saxcho's,  "  Could 
my  'Dapple'  have  'shelter  and  provender?'  " 

To  a  way-worn  traveler,  and  most  especially  to  a  be- 
nighted one,  there  is  something  that  cheers  him  as  he  hears 
a  welcome  response  to  his  inquiry  whether  he  can  find 
food  and  shelter  for  the  night ;  but  when  it  is  given  in 
that  generous  and  hospitable  manner  which  says, 

"  Guidance  and  rest  and  food  and  fire, 
No  stranger  may  in  vain  require  ;" 

one  feels  that  he  is  thrice  and  four  times  welcomed. 

I  need  scarcely  add  that  beneath  a  Southern  planter's 
roof  you  find  this  welcome. 

There  was  one  other  person  in  the  room,  of  a  clever  and 
somewhat  intelligent  look,  whom  I  soon  found  to  be  the 
overseer.  Mr.  D.  being  a  widower,  and  living  alone,  he 
had  probably  associated  him  as  one  of  the  family  more 
than  he  otherwise  would  have  done.  For  I  saw  that  he 
was  considered  as  one  of  the  family. 

I  supposed  I  had  been  out  half  the  night  in  the  woods ; 
I  had  not  quite,  yet,  though  it  was  deep  in  the  evening, 
they  had  not  been  to  supper.  They  were  having  a  late 
one.  A  negro  servant  girl  had  just  placed  it  on  the  table 
and  announced  that  it  was  ready  as  I  came  in. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  69 

I  was  invitedj  after  a  few  moments'  conversation,  to  sit 
down  to  table  with  them.  The  fare  was  simple — the  corn 
dodger,  little  wheat  biscuit,  the  size  of  a  door-knob,  some 
butter,  hominy  and  coffee.  Of  this,  after  Mr.  D.  had  asked 
a  blessing,  I  partook  with  a  good  appetite. 

Our  host  appeared  to  be  a  man  of  humor,  and  rallied  R., 
his  relative,  and  myself,  about  our  being  Yankee  peda- 
gogues ;  and  tried  to  catch  from  our  conversation  some 
Yankee  accent  or  phrase.  He  said  his  overseer  had  bother- 
ed all  day  over  the  word  "  stent,"  that  he  had  heard  R.  use ; 
and  that  he  came  to  him  at  night  to  know  what  he  meant 
by  it. 

*'  Why  he  means,  you  dunce  you,"  replied  Mr.  D.,  "  what 
you  mean  w^hen  you  say  '  task.'  " 

And  that  he  had  puzzled  the  overseer  also  in  telling 
about  some  planters  having  a  "  raft''  of  slaves.  He  thought 
that  the  pupil  ought  not  to  hear  the  drawling  sound,  or 
learn  any  vulgar  phrases  from  the  teacher. 

Is  it  not  too  often  a  fact  that  aside  from  the  poor  enun- 
ciation and  manners  of  the  common  school-teacher,  which 
are  frequently  too  bad  for  the  young  learner  to  imitate, 
his  language  is  the  false  syntax  to  all  the  grammar  he 
teaches.     He  is  a  paradox. 

During  the  evening  I  told  Mr.  D.  I  thought  he  resem- 
bled Gen.  Cass  very  much  in  his  looks. 

He  begged  my  pardon,  for  he  could  not  receive  my 
compliment — he'd  rather  look  like  any  other  man.  He 
spoke  in  bitter  terms  of  him  and  the  "little  giant."  We 
replied  that  Gen.  Cass  was  considered  the  Nestor  of 
American  Democracy,  and  the  "little  giant"  its Diomede. 

He  "  reckoned  not,"  or  if  so,  they  and  their  followers 
were  no  "kith  and  kin"  of  his. 

But  the  North  had  a  man  worth  them  all — Millard 
Fillmore. 


70  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

We  talked  about  the  political  ''clans"  in  our  country. 
Scotland  in  her  days  of  chieftainship  did  not  surpass  us ; 
we  had  the  clan  MacGregor,  MacAlpine,  and  all  the 
FiTZ  James  and  Roderick  Duhs  in  our  political  clans, 
and  they  were  carrying  on  a  fierce  and  bitter  warfare 
against  each  other.- 

But  we  thought  it  rather  strange,  to  see,  in  these  ''  feu- 
dal days,"  a  "Lowlander,"  the  follower  of  a  "Highland 
chief." 

He  had  visited,  lately,  his  native  State,  New  York. 
And  on  his  way  had  passed  through  the  Peninsular  State, 
and  noticed,  he  said,  a  flourishing  town  on  the  Central 
Rail  Road,  by  the  name  of  Battle  Creek. 

It  was  a  "right  smart"  place,  and  characterized  by 
Yankee  energy — traffic  and  thrift. 

But  he  did  not  like  the  name  ;    how  did  it  come  by  it  ? 

Did  Gen.  Cass  ever  fight  a  battle  with  the  Indians  on 
the  original  town  plot  ? 

I  gave  him  the  history  of  its  receiving  its  present  name. 
A  battle  had  been  fought  on  the  original  site  of  the  place, 
in  its  forest  days,  between  the  old  State  surveyors  and  the 
Indians  ; — the  latter  having  attempted  to  take,  by  force, 
provisions  from  the  tent  of  the  former. 

That  many  of  its  citizens  did  not  like  its  present  name, 
but  as  they  had  not  striven  for  a  name  merely  in  building 
up  the  town,  they  had  been  negligent  in  having  it  changed. 
The  situation  of  the  place  in  a  glen  or  "  vale," 

"  Where  the  bright  waters  meet," 

and  the  practical  character  of  the  town,  made  it  difficult 
to  find  a  name  that  would  unite  the  beauty  of  its  locality 
with  its  business  characteristics,  should  their  fancy  seek 
one. 

Pardon   this  episode  on   the  name  of  my  home  in  the 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  Tl 

North.  I  have  often  thought,  had  it  early  had  the  pres- 
tige of  that  "  strange  spell — a  name,"  it  would  have  been 
a  great  benefit  to  it.  And  here  a  far-away  Mississippian, 
who  has  seen  the  place,  thinks  it  needs  and  deserves  a  bet- 
ter one. 

In  our  evening  chat  the  teacher,  R.,  told  me  I  had  run 
a  great  risk  in  not  hallooing  from  my  horse,  and  calling 
some  one  to  the  gate,  ere  I  alighted  and  came  in.  That 
the  hounds  that  the  planters  usually  kept,  would  in  many 
places,  have  made  it  extremely  perilous  for  me  to  have 
done  so. 

He  instanced  the  case  of  a  friend  of  his,  who,  attempt- 
ing to  come  to  the  planter's  door  without  first  hallooing 
from  the  saddle,  had  barely  escaped  with  his  life ;  the 
hounds  tore  his  flesh  shockingly.  ^ 

It  was  the  custom  here  for  every  one  to  halloo  from  the 
saddle  before  alighting  and  coming  to  the  door.  The  plant- 
er was  ever  ready  for  a  call,  and  always  sent  his  servant 
or  came  himself  to  meet  you  at  the  gate. 

•He  said  that  it  was  lucky  for  me  to-night,  as  I  came  in, 
that  Mr.  D.  had  no  hounds.  And,  finally,  that  there  was 
always  danger  in  knocking  at  the  planter's  door. 

Speaking  to  our  planter  host — I  find  they  are  apt  to 
be  semi-publican — about  their  wanting  teachers,  he  an- 
swered that  he  knew  of  no  situation  anywhere  in  the  coun- 
try for  one. 

He  ''  reckoned  that  if  I  had  come  South  to  teach — '  I 
had  been  led  a  dance.'  " 

This  was  rather  a  discouraging  close  to  my  first  day's 
adventure  in  search  of  a  school  in  the  far  distant  South. 
It  not  only  cast  the  adventures  of  the  day  in  the  shade, 
but  threw  a  shadow  over  my  future  prospects. 

On  retiring  for  the  night,  a  large  room  was  shown  me, 
in  which  was  a  fire  briskly  burning  in  a  fire-place — a  large 


72  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

broad  bed — a  table  ^itli  some  books  and  newspapers  on  it, 
and  an  old  book-case,  on  -whose  shelves  papers  and  books 
were  half  arranged  or  scattered  in  heaps. 

Taking  leave  of  the  planter,  in  the  morning,  he  would 
take  no  "  sordid  ore"  for  the  entertainment  he  had  given  me. 

His  house  is  the  accustomed  log  building  I  had  observed 
planters  usually  lived  in.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  paling 
of  cypress  shakes,  vrhite-washed,  which  enclosed  a  small 
door-yard  with  no  shade.  His  plantation  of  over  three 
hundred  acres,  lay  before  his  door,  stretching  away  in 
broad  rolling  fields ;  some  covered  with  yellow  sedge,  oth- 
ers bristling  with  the  rustling  corn-stalks,  and  some  with 
long,  brown  hedge  rows,  yet  "profitably  gay"  with  white 
blossoms. 

I  had  yet  three  miles  to  go,  ere  reaching  Mr.  C.'s,  to 
whom  I  had  been  directed  as  the  planter  who  wished  "to 
get  up"  a  school. 

They  have  no  name  for  towns  here.  They  go  by  the 
designating  terms  of  the  original  survey. 

Township  No.  9,  Range  8  West,  &c.,  &c. 

The  post  office  in  each  town  has  a  name,  and  some  of 
the  planters  have  names  to  their  platations  or  residences. 

Mr.  C.  was  not  at  home,  a  lady  informed  me  from  the 
porch  of  a  rough  plantation-house.  I  saw  no  negro  quar- 
ters nor  cotton-field  in  sight.  One  might  mistake  the 
house  for  a  farm-house  in  the  North.  But  you  would 
soon  be  undeceived,  for,  turning  the  corner  of  the  road,  I 
saw  lying  perdue  by  the  road  side,  a  "  Grin-House," 
which  has  nothing  answerable  to  it  in  size  and  shape,  in 
the  whole  busy  North,  or  bustling  world. 

Riding  three  miles  further,  I  found  Mr.  C.  at  one  of  his 
neighbor's,  building  one  of  these  unique  looking  Gin- 
Houses.  He  said  he  wanted  a  school  very  much,  but 
that  there  was  no  way  of  "getting  one  up,"  save  by  rid- 


t 

SOJOURN   m   THE   SOUTH.  73 

ing  around  among  tlie  planters,  in  his  district,  and  thus 
find  out  how  many  scholars  could  be  obtained.  He  would 
head  the  list  by  putting  down  three"  scholars,  each  at  four 
dollars  per  month.  They  had  no  school  officers.  Having 
failed  to  elect  them  last  year,  a  school  was  now  an  indi- 
vidual work.  They  had,  he  said,  an  old  log  school-house 
that  would  do  with  some  patching  and  mending.  And  in 
regard  to  "board,"  the  teacher  would  have  to  walk  some 
two  miles  or  so,  unless  he  could  make  arrangements  to  se- 
cure a  home  with  some  planter  near  the  school-house. 

Having  obtained  the  range  of  my  ride,  to  find  the  pat- 
rons of  the  school,  I  started  out  to  make  my  round  of 
''calls." 

After  riding  "up  hill  and  down  dale,"  "through  bush 
and  brake,"  back  from  the  main  road,  along  by-paths  and 
no-paths,  up  steep  banks  and  down  steeper  ones,  amid  the 
tangle- wood  of  ravines,  I  found  but  poor  encouragement. 

Two  planters  would  send  a  boy  a-piece  at  Christmas, 
when  cotton-picking  was  over.  One  thought  of  selling  his 
plantation ; — "  would  send  two  scholars  if  he  stayed." 

Having  strayed  from  the  "big  road,"  I  came  up  to  a 
small-sized  house,  sitting  on  high  posts,  like  those  in  Siam, 
to  avoid  inundation  :  a  planter's  wife  responded  to  my  hal- 
loo— came  and  opened  the  gate  for  me,  and,  after  I  had 
ridden  across  the  inner  yard,  she  opened  another  gate,  for 
which  I  thanked  her  then,  and  should  she  ever  read  these 
pages,  she  may  consider  this  line  loaded  with  kind  remem- 
brances and  my  best  wishes  for  her. 

She  directed  me  to  her  husband,  at  work  off  in  the  field. 
Passing  through  a  lane  and  into  an  uncultivated  field,  I 
came  up  to  a  dense  clump  of  cotton-wood  trees  ;  and  as  I 
could  see  no  one  in  sight,  I  hallooed  to  the  sound  of  an 
axe  in  the  midst  of  them.  A  man  of  ordinary  size  and 
dress  came  out  with  his  axe  on  his  shoulder. 


74  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

I  told  him  mj  errand. 

"  Weel,  he  would  do  as  much  as  iny  mon  in  supporting 
a  school."  He  had  but  one  "bairn  to  send,  and  je  could 
ask  no  more  of  a  mon  than  to  do  his  best,  could  ye  ?" 

Certainly  not. 

"Well,  he  would  send  his  bairn." 

"But,"  said  he,  looking  at  me  earnestly  and  honestly, 
with  one  eye^the  other  was  out — "  afther  ye've  worked 
for  a  thing,  ye  want  to  get  it,  don't  ye  ?" 

Most  assuredly. 

"  Weel,  I  want  a  school  as  much  as  iny  mon,  but  my 
bairn  must  help  gather  the  cotton  crop  'fore  he  can  go." 

But  when  will  cotton  gathering  be  over  ? 

"  Weel,  sir,  if  we  are  right  smart,  we'll  have  niver  a 
cotton-row  to  pick  at  'holl  eve,  sir,  at  Christmas,  sir." 

Whether  this  planter  from  the  "  Green  Isle,"  with  his 
slaves,  if  he  had  any,  and  the  help  of  his  "bairn,"  got 
through  cotton-picking  at  'holl  eve  or  not,  I  never  ascer- 
tained. 

But  surely  nature  is  kind  to  the  cotton-planter,  or  he 
could  not  live  here  a  year,  with  our  seasons  he  would  starve 
at  planting. 

I  had  some  distance  to  ride,  ere  I  reached  the  main 
road.  My  directions  were  to  "  hold  to  the  path  ;"  it  would 
take  me  out  of  the  woods  safely.  I  kept  it  with  difficulty; 
sometimes  with  doubt,  sometimes  with  fear,  for  it  led  me 
on  a  will-o'-the-wisp  chase,  through  deep  ravines  and  along 
dismal  looking  abysses.  At  one  point  I  descended  from 
the  crest  of  a  ridge  following  this  little  path,  in  its  crooks 
and  turns  down  the  steep  side  to  the  bottom  of  a  ravine, 
where  I  found  a  little  tinkling  brook,  a  tiny  hermit  stream, 
born  here  in  the  woods  near  some  mossy  fountain.  Its 
little  babblings  were  never  heard  out  of  this  deep  wood- 
land dell. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  75 

While  mj  horse  was  drinking  of  its  clear  waters,  I  looked 
up  and  saw  I  should  have  to  climb  a  steep  bank,  if  I  kept 
the  path,  as  I  had  been  directed.  I  reached  the  top  of 
the  ridge,  after  no  little  fear  that  my  horse  would  lose  his 
load  in  the  ascent.     Most  truly, 

"I  had  passed  the  glen  and  scanty  rill, 
And  climbed  the  opposing  bank,  until, 
I  gained  the  top  of  Blackford  hill." 

Having  gained  the  bank,  I  looked  down,  with  a  sigh,  to 
the  little  brook,  as  I  thought  that  the  vandal  axe  of  the 
forester  might  yet  denude  its  banks  of  their  shade,  and 
that  this  lovely  little  stream  would  be  missing  some  sum- 
mer morning. 

My  last  "  call"  in  this  vicinity,  was  at  the  plantation  of 
Mr.  D. 

His  house  stood  in  the  shade  of  some  fine  trees.  The 
porch  was  open,  but  trellised  with  clambering  vines.  The 
grounds  about  the  house  displayed  the  attention  and  taste 
of  the  planter. 

Mr.  D.,  in  response  to  my  halloo,  came  walking  down 
his  fine  lawn,  with  his  head  bare,  which  reminded  me  very 
much,  in  its  shape,  of  Chief  Justice  Marshall's,  and  met 
me  at  the  gate. 

After  I  had  mentioned  the  subject  of  my  call,  he  frank- 
ly told  me  he  would  send  to  the  school  if  he  liked  it — 
would  not  promise  a  scholar  on  any  other  conditions. 
Some  of  his  children  were  away  from  home  at  school ;  he 
had  two  or  three  at  hlbie  whom  he  would  send  to  a  good 
school.  - 

But  he  had  been  deceived  so  much  in  teachers  that  he 
had  lost  confidence  in  any  that  he  did  not  know. 

I  asked  him  how  he  had  been  deceived. 

He  replied,  "In  their  pretending  to  be  good  teachers — 


76  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

graduates  from  college — and  proving  to  be,  sometimes,  ig- 
noramuses." 

Were  these  Northern  teachers  ? 

"Yes." 

"  Was  I  from  the  North  ?" 

Yes. 

What  a  fine  predicament  Whately  with  his  logic,  now 
placed  me  in ! 

The  premiss  was — Northern  teachers  had  deceived  him. 

I  was  a  Northern  teacher,  and  the  conclusion  was — I 
would  deceive  him. 

Worse  than  that ;  these  teachers  were  ignoramuses. 

I  was  a  teacher,  hence — an  ignoramus  ! 

Reader,  did  the  charlatan  Whately  ever  resolve  you 
into  such  a  fix,  with  his  beautiful,  laconical,  logical,  triple 
reasoning,  that  makes  our  common  sense,  true  to  the  old 
adage,   "a  cammon  liar ?" 

Yet  Mr.  Whately  is  serious,  and  honest  in  laying  down 
these  logical  conclusions. 

"Honest  Iago  !" 

I  extricated  myself  as  well  as  I  could  from  my  unpleas- 
ant situation,  and  bidding  Mr.  D.  "good  day,"  reined  my 
horse  round  for  the  village  of  Dover,  six  miles  distant.  I 
had  been  informed  that  they  wished  to  hire  a  teacher  for 
the  school  in  that  place. 

The  road  to  this  town  is  remarkable  for  its  gates.  I 
passed  through  eight  or  ten  of  them  in  traveling  these  six 
miles. 

But  their  latches  are  so  high — one  can  reach  them  from 
the  saddle — and  they  swing  open  and  shut  readily,  so  that 
you  are  saved  the  trouble  of  dismounting. 

At  Dover  I  saw  a  blacksmith's  shop,  about  the  size  of 
an  Irishman's  shanty — one,  perhaps,  tivo  buildings,  some 
distance   down  the  road — a   decent  looking   log   school- 


SOJOURN   m   THE   SOUTH.  77 

house,  and  a  store  about  the  dimensions  of  a  large  sized 
tin-peddler's  box  ;  to  which  I  reined  my  horse,  and  gave 
the  usual  halloo. 

A  small,  -svell-dressed  man  came  to  the  door. 

He  had  a  rubicund  face,  and  eyes  as  black  as  sloe  ber- 
ries, which  told  you  at  a  glance,  thathe  wasof  amerry  and 
social  disposition,  and  withal,  an  intelligent  man. 

I  asked  him  if  this  was  Dover,  and  he  was  Mr.  W. 

Being  aiiswered  in  the  affirmative,  I  alighted  and  went 
into  the  store.  'He  briefly  told  me  the  situation  of  their 
school.  Three  officers  had  it  under  their  supervision,  and 
it  drew  its  "annual  pension"  from  the  State,  when  these 
officers  were-  duly  elected.  They  had  just  hired  a  teacher, 
yet  they  might  not. agree  on  terms  ;  they  were  to  see  him 
once  more.  There  was  a  ijossihility  that  they  might  not  hire 
him. 

This  doubt  seemed  a  pretext  that  he  might  'enjoy  testing 
the  range  of  my  accomplishments. 

He  could  not  forego  the  pleasure — like  city  ladies 
a-shopping — of  examining  the  new'  goods,  though  he  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  of  buying  any.  And  he  begun  at 
once,  as  if  I  was  as  ready  as  a  clerk  to  tumble  down  my 
intellectual  goods  for  his  inspection. 

Was  I  a  classical  scholar,  and  so  forth,  and  so  on,  down 
to  the  embellishments  of  a  boarding-school  Miss. 

The  latter  acquirements  he  did  not  consider  so  essential ; 
had  merely  touched  upon  them  because  it  was  better  for  a 
teacher  to  have  them. 

He  next  attacked  me  mathematically.  Did  I  under- 
stand Trigonometry,  Geometry,  Surveying,  Algebra,  and 
so  on,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

Then  followed  a  "fusilaide"- on  the  natural  sciences. 
Chemistry,  and  so  forth,  to  the  efd  of  that  chapter. 


78  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR'S 

The  close  of  this  "overhaul"  of  my  stock  of  knowledge, 
was, 

"What  were  my  ideas  of  government,  in  a  school^'"  of 
course  ? 

They  were  Democratic.  I  looked  upon  every  pupil  that 
came  to  school  as  being  capable  of  self-government ;  they 
ought  not  to  come  till  they  were. 

But  in  managing  a  school  the  teacher  should  hold  the 
reins  of  government  with  Spartan  firmness,  ai^  give  his 
laws  with  Spartan  brevity. 

But  in  regard  to  managing  the  different  natures,  the 
wayward,  the  refractory,  the  timid,  and  so  forth. 

Here,  w^e  thought,  much  could  be  learned  from  the  an- 
swer of  old  Dr.  Belamy  to  a  young  clergyman  who  asked 
his  advice  in  managing  his  congregation. 

He  replied : 

"Why;  man,  can't  you  take  a  lesson  from  a  fisherman  ? 
In  trouting  you  have  a  little  hook  and  fine  line,  and  bait 
it  carefully,  and  throw  it  out  as  gently  as  you  can,  then 
sit  and  wait  and  humor  your  fish  until  you  can  get  him 
a-shore." 

"  Now,  in  fishing  for  cod,  you  get  a  great  cod-hook  and 
rope  line,  and  thrash  it  into  the  water,  and  bawl  out — 

"  Bite,  or  be  d d,  to  you  I" 

,  He  then  gave  me  a  short  paraphrase  on  the  use  of  math- 
ematical studies. 

They  were  the  parade-ground,  where  the  faculties  of  the 
mind  were  drilled  and  disciplined.  The  teacher  was  the 
mathematical  tactician,    and  the   school  a  little  military 

academy. 

During  this  conference  several  villagers,  lounging  about 
the  store,  stood  by  us  as  listeners. 

Mr.  W.  remarked  to  i^e,  as  I  got  into  the  saddle,  that 


I 


SOJOURN   IX   THE   SOUTH.  79 


he  would  write  me  and  let  me  know,  in  a  few  days,  wheth- 
er I  could  have  the  school  or  not. 

It  was  past  the  mid-after  of  a  lovely  day  in  a  Southern 
November,  that  I  left  the  good  people  of  Dover,  and 
wended  my  way  back,  over  the  "  gated  road"  to  Mr.  D.'s 
plantation.     The  sun  was  in  a  summer  sky — 

"  The  loTerock  -whistled  from  the  cloud  ; 
The  stream  was  lovely,  though  not  loud ; 
*  And  many  a  Southern  garden  shed  ' 

Its  richest  fragrance  round  my  head." 

A  planter  on  a  mule  accompanied  me  part  of  the  way. 
They  are  all  loquacious  and  fond  of  company  on  the  road, 
but  few  ask  me  my  name  or  place  of  residence. 

But  one  needs  a  Scotch  impertinence  in  asking  questions 
when  traveling,  if  he  would  get  the  knowledge  of  a  coun- 
try ; — I  ask  many  of  them  their  names,  and  many  ques- 
tions about  this  Southern  clime. 

One  gets  different  ideas  in  different  localities.  In  some 
places  a  teacher  meets  discouragement — loses  "  the  scent 
on  the  track"  of  a  school,  and  wanders  about  through  the 
woods,  from  plantation  to  plantation,  sad  and  dejected. 
In  other  places  he  strikes  the  track  again,  and  spurs  on 
his  horse  with  animation  and  courage. 

These  two  persons,  like  Pagaxini  with  his  fiddle,  and 
Paganini  without  his  fiddle,  are  two  very  different  things. 

On  leaving  Dover  we  rode  along  Mr.  B.'s  plantation  ;  an 
almost  boundless  cotton  field  came  up  to  the  side  of  our  path ; 
a  plain  unshaded  house  stood  off  a  distance  from  the  road, 
and  negro  quarters  a  little  beyond  it.  There  was  the  ap- 
pearance of  more  thrift  in  the  field  than  in  the  immediate 
surroundings  of  the  house. 

Before  reaching  the  main  road,  I  passed  the  widow  C.'s 
plantation. 


80  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

The  family  house,  though  old  and  rude,  is  really  in  a 
a  nest  of  trees  and  vines  ;  and  children  and  hounds  were 
playing  about  in  its  door-yard  and  garden.  A  spacious 
lawn,  shaded  by  lordly  oaks,  lay  before  its  door — a  cluster 
of  negro  cabins  was  some  distance  from  the  house,  beneath 
the  shade  of  the  China  trees,  in  which  negro  boys  and  girls 
were  frolicking  about.  Horses  were  grazing  in  a  pasture 
of  Bermuda  grass ;  carriages  were  in  their  houses ;  every- 
thing had  the  air  of  an  undisturbed  old  English  manorial 
life. 

This  was  the  Southern  residence  of  my  friend — Miss 
E.  M.  P.,  who  had  lately  been  governess  in  Mrs.  C.'s 
family.  Life  here,  surely  had  enough  attraction  and  ro- 
mance about  it  to  make  the  teacher's  vocation  a  pleasant 
one. 

From  this  plantation  I  went  out  into  the  main  road  and 
was,  just  as  night-fall  fell  across  my  path,  at  the  residence 
of  Mr.  D.'s,  where  I  had  stayed  the  night  before,  and  be- 
neath whose  hospitable  roof  I  remained  another  night. 

In  the  morning  I  rode  back  to  Mechanicsburgh,  where 
I  consulted  with  several  of  its  leading  men,  whose  names 
Mr.  H.  had  given  me,  about  their  school. 

They  thought  the  present  teacher  would  leave  soon ; 
that  I  had  better  bide  my  time,  and  they  would  pledge  me 
the  school  on  the  event  that  he  did  leave. 

Mr.  H.  of  this  place,  whose  acquaintance  and  his  broth- 
er's I  afterwards  formed,  and  esteemed  much,  was  the 
frankest  Southron  I  had  yet  met. 

He  said  the  only  objection — which  he  courteously  waved 
— he  had  to  my  teaching  their  school,  was,  "  I  came  from 
Michigan — that  hitter  abolition  State!'' 

He  was  more  frank  than  severe.     I  liked  his  honesty. 

On  reaching  Major  W.'s  I  was  a  tired  cavalier — had 
been  in  the  saddle  two  days — a  longer  and  more   prolix 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  81 

sitting  than  that  of  the  "Rump  Parliament,"  to  me — be- 
sides, I  had  traveled  over  a  route,  rough,  obscure  and 
lonely. 

I  met  Mrs.  Dr.  J.  at  the  "  Ridge  House."  . 

She  was  so  pretty,  and  seemed  so  much  like  a  Northern 
lady,  that  I  felt  as  if  I  had  met  an  old  friend. 

To  her  I  presented  my  letter  of  introduction.  And  in 
the  evening  I  gave  the  family  this  story  of  my  first  adven- 
tures in  the  South,  in  search  of  a  school. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"  While  far  from  home,  my  narrower  ken 
Somewhat  of  manners  saw,  and  men." 

Major  W.  came  home  soon  after  my  return.  He  is 
one  of  South  Carolina's  chivalrous  sons ;  a  courteous 
gentleman,  of  fine  intellect,  much  reading,  and  good  lit- 
erary taste. 

He  is  six  feet  high,  though  not  a  heavy  man,  has  light 
brown  hair,  bluish  grey  eyes,  and,  were  it  not  for  the 
browning  of  this  clime,  would  have  a  fair  complexion. 

His  plantation,  as  I  before  noticed,  is  in  the  valley.  He 
has  selected  this  spot  among  the  hills,  for  his  home,  some 
two  miles  from  it,  on  account  of  its  healthier  locality. 

From  the  "  sunny  memories"  of  my  sojourn  in  this  pleas- 
ant land,  that  cluster  about  the  Ridge  House, — my  first 

p 


82  J0TTING3   OF   A   YEAR'S 

home  in  the  South — it  deserves  a  description  in  these  Jot- 
tings. 

It  is  about  mid-way,  on  the  ''  Big  Road"  between  Vicks- 
burgh  and  Yazoo  City.  The  house,  though  it  is  now  be- 
ing finished  inside  and  out,  like  a  frame  buikling,  is  built 
of  oak  logs -hewn  square.  It  is  some  thirty  feet  wide  by 
sixty  feet  long,  and  a  story-and-a-half  high,  while  the  roof 
extending  out,  like  a  planter's  broad  rimmed  hat,  over  its 
sides,  and,  resting  on  posts,  forms  wide  porches,  a  cool 
and  pleasant  shade  in  the  warm  summer  weather.  An 
open  hall  connects  these  two  porches. 

It  is  situated  on  a  gentle  eminence  that  slopes  down 
gradually  to  the  road.  You  approach  it,  in  front,  through 
a  carriage  gate  that  opens  from  the  road  into  a  broad 
lawn  of  several  acres,  graced  with  many  a  sylvan  honor  of 
the  forest. 

Riding  across  this  lawn,  you  come  to  a  little  gate,  in 
the  palings  of  cypress  boards  that  enclose  the  inner  grounds 
about  the  house.  To  the  left  of  the  yard,  running  to  the 
rear  of  the  house,  are  three  fine  rows  of  locust  trees ;  a 
tall  hickory  stands  at  the  right,  and  a  few  others  are  stand- 
ing in  the  rear-yard,  while  in  the  back-ground,  the  pri- 
meval forest  rises  up  against  the  sky. 

Major  W.  usually  orders  his  horse  in  the  morning,  and 
rides  along  a  fine,  high,  carriage  road,  that  winds  through 
an  interval  of  beautiful  wood-land,  to  his  plantation,  "  down 
in  the  valley." 

Here,  from  the  porch  of  the  old  plantation-house,  or 
riding  out  over  the  plantation,  he  can  see  how  affairs  are  dai- 
ly managed,  over  his  whole  domain. 

Some  thirty  slaves,  under  command  of  his  "field-mar- 
shal" work  his  large  and  beautiful  prairie-farm  ;  and  the 
fruit  of  their  labor  is  an  "argosy"  of  cotton,  which  is 
annually  shipped  to  New  Orleans. 


SOJOURN    IX    TUE   SOUTH.  83 

My  first  conversation  with  Iiim,  was  about  the  panic 
araonoj  the  Northern  banks.  He  discoursed  at  some  lengfth 
on  the  banking  system.  Okl  JoHX  Law  had,  years  a-gone, 
founded  a  bank,  for  the  French  people,  on  the  El  Dorado 
treasures  of  the  Mississippi  valley.  His  scheme  had  since 
been  known  as  "  The  Mississippi  bubble."  This  "  bubble"  ' 
burst,  and  its  explosion  was  more  fatal  to  the  French  than 
all  the  "infernal  machines"  in  Boxaparte's  time.  But 
they  had  no  more  bubbles  to  burst,  their  banks  were  as 
enduring,  as — 

"  These  rich  vales  that  feed  the  marts  of  the  world." 

He  spoke  of  our  Congress  as  if  it  were  a  chess-board, 
and  he  clearly  understood  the  games  that  were  being  and 
had  been  played  on  it,  by  those  men  in  Congress. 

In  speaking  about  their  schools  to  him,  he  told  me  that 
there  were  good  situations  for  teachers,  but  I  must  "  bide 
my  time,"  get  better  acquainted,  and  I  would  not  have 
any  trouble  in  securing  a  pleasant  place.  Schools  among 
them,  were  mostly  got  up  by  individual  effort.  Of  this, 
I  had  had  a  little  experience. 

To-night,  the  sky  was  all  aglow  vri^  a  roseate  hue. 
Never  did  I  see  the  stars  shining  out  from  so  lovely  a 
setting.  Sand-hill  cranes  were  flying  South — an  indica- 
tion of  cold  weather. 

The  frost,  that  great  chamberlain  of  old  "  Dame  Earth," 
is  now  spreading  her  carpet  throughout  the  wood-lands, 
before  winter  sets  in. 

But  to  another  theme. 

The  main  road  running;  throusrh  Yazoo  and  Warren  coun- 
ties,  is  as  crooked  as  an  Indian  trail,  save  where  it  is 
sometimes  straightened,  running  between  plantations,  but 
as  soon  as  it  leaves  them,  off  it  goes  again,  as  wild  and 
wandering  as  ever ;  following  the  wayward  freak  of  some 


84  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

ridge.  A  short  rain  makes  the  soil,  of  clay  loam,  as  tena- 
cious as  tar  to  the  foot  or  carriage  wheel.  But  you  find 
no  stone,  not  even  the  slightest  indications  of  gravel  in 
the  country. 

A  telegraph  line,  hetwpen  Vicksburgh  and  Yazoo  city, 
<mce  followed  the  windings  of  this  road,  the  wires  beinoj 
attached  to  trees,  instead  of  posts.  But  it  was  so  often 
broken  by  the  falling  of  trees  across  it,  that  it  was  soon 
abandoned. 

One  meets,  in  traveling  here  on  the  road,  throughout 
the  country,  the  negro,  driving  fine  carriages  or  costly 
coaches,*  with  his  beautiful  "-proteges'  in  them — the  plant- 
er's wife  and  her  daughters ;  also  ladies  on  their  palfreys 
galloping  through  the  woods ;  the  planter  and  his  sons, 
ev.er  on  horse-back,  with  a  large  portmanteau  swung  across 
their  saddles,  for  carrying  sundries ;  or,  if  he  is  on  the 
hunt,  he  is  equipped  for  it,  followed  by  his  hounds  ;  and, 
if  returning  from  the  chase,  the  most  of  them  will  have  a 
deer  swung  across  their  horses,  behind  the  saddle,  and  ne- 
groes mounted,  carrying  others.  Or  you  may  meet  this  sa- 
ble cavalier,  and  his  dulcena,  riding  their  favorite  steed, 
the  mule ;  or  perhaps  you  may  find  the  solitary  gin-stand 
agent,  or  traveler,  wending  his  way,  a-horse-back,  through 
the  State  ;  or  now  and  then,  a  German-Jew  peddler,  seated 
on  his  well-filled  box,  making  his  transit  across  the  coun- 
try, attended  by  his  black  satellite  as  a  "whip;"  and  last- 
ly, especially  in  the  ditching  season,  wandering  "  Exiles  of 
Erin,"  straggling  along  the  road. 

This  is  about  all  the  travel  you  see.  The  stranger  finds 
no  welcome  sign-post,  an  index  to  a  "Way-side  Inn," 
where  he  can  pause  and  refresh  himself  and  his  weary 
beast.  Neither  does  the  thirsty  traveler  hail,  near  the 
road-side,  by  the  planter's  home,  the  accustomed  well- 
sweep,  so  common  in  the  country  North,  poised  like  an  an- 


\ 

SOJOURN    IN    THE    SOUTH.  85 

gler's  rod,  Avith  its  line  suspending  a  bucket  ready  to  dip 
into  the  fountain  below,  and  bring  up  the  cooling  bever- 
age. The  planter  seldom  digs  a  well;,  its  waters  are  too 
often  affected  by  the  mineral  impurities  of  the  earth.  He 
uses  cistern  water. 

Neither  do  you  see  any  barns  in  the  country  ;  the  green- 
cane  pasture  of  the  woods,  the  year  round,  saves  him  from 
stowing  away  fodder  for  his  cattle,  and  the  mildness  of  the 
climate  precludes  the  use  of  them  for  shelter. 

All  the  buildings  you  see,  are,  the  plantation-house,  a 
lonely  church,  a  solitary  school-house,  standing  off  from 
the  road-side,  telling  where  some  northern  teacher  has 
been ;  the  gin-house,  where  the  cotton  is  separated  from 
the  seed ;  here  and  there  a  stray  rick  for  corn,  or  corn- 
leaves  for  fodder  ;  and,  occasionally,'  a  roof  over  an  open 
«stall  for  horses.  These  are  all  the  buildings  one  sees,  in 
the  country,  and  they  are  all  built  of  logs,  save  very  rare- 
ly a  planter's  house. 

There  are  no  grist-mills,  in  town  or  country.  All  the 
corn  they  use  is  ground  by  one-horse-power  mills,  in  the 
gin-house.  The  saw-mill  is  more  of  a  sine  qua  non  ;  but 
still  you  see  but  very  few  of  them,  the  country  is  too  ridgy 
for  water-mills.  Neither  have  I  seen  ai^  bridges  over  the 
rivers — they  are  all  crossed  in  ferry-boats. 

Life  is  surely  rather  primitive  here.  There  is  more  na- 
ture and  less  art  than  at  the  North,  more  forest  and  un- 
cultivated land,  less  husbandry  and  good  tillage.  Houses 
are  built  more  from  want  and  convenience,  and  less  from 
pride  and- for  sale.  They  are  homes  for  life,  and  are  nev- 
er placarded  with  notices  "to  sell  or  rent,"  like  Northern 
farms  and  farm-houses.  Their  best  houses  are  not  costly. 
What  man  does  for  comfort  and  convenience  costs  him  but 
little.  But  let  him  build  to  suit  his  pride,  and  his  house 
rivals  the  "Taj  of  India." 


86  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

I  have  noticed  many  traits  of  old  English  life  in  the 
South.  The  plantation-house,  like  the  old  English  manor- 
house,  has  its  broad  grounds,  but  without  the  carpet  of 
green,  between  its  shady  retreat  and  the  road.  The  beau- 
ties of  the  landscape,  about  his  rural  seclusion,  have  not 

been  violated.  The  planter  also,  may  be  considered  a  lord 
in  possession  of  a  large  estate,  and  his  slaves  are  his  vas- 
sals. And',  like  your  English  gentleman  of  landed  posses- 
sions, he  loves  the  chase,  keeps  a  parliament  of  hounds, 
and  the  requisites  for  the  hunt.  His  horse  is  ordered  at 
early  dawn,  when  from  his  porch  you  can  hear  the  wind- 
ing of  his  horn,  and  instantly 

"Tray,  Blanche,  and  Sweetheart  all," 

are  frolicking  about  him.  He  soon  dashes  off  into  the 
woods  with  them,  and  you  may  not  see  him  again  till  night- 
fall. 

The  following,  is  a  wild  boar  hunt,  as  narrated  to  me  by 
Major  W.'s  oldest  son.  Some  of  these  hunts  are  as  fierce 
as  those  of  Ceylon. 

This  animal,  the  bear,  the  wolf,  catamount,  and  deer, 
are  denizens  of  the  Mississippi  forest. 

News  came  to  mm,  he  said,  last  evening,  while  at  the 
plantation-house,  that  one  of  the  horses  had  been  badly 
gashed,  his  favorite  dog  killed,  and  the  party  driven  out 
of  the  swamp  by  a  ferocious  wild  boar.  , 

He  instantly  ordered  his  horse,  wound  his  horn  to  sum- 
mon his  hounds,  seized  his  gun,  and  vaulting  into  the  sad- 
dle, was  soon  at  the  edge  of  the  cypress-brake,  where  the 
party  were — 

"With  horse,  and  gun,  and  horn,  and  hound; 

You  might  see  the  youth  intent 

Guard  every  pass  with  cross-bow  bent ; 
*         ^         -x-         -x-         *         -K- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  87 

« 

Lead  in  the  leasli  the  gaze-hounds  grim, 

Attentive,  as  the  bratchet's  bay 
From  the  dark  covert  drove  the  prey, 
To  slip  them  as  he  broke  away." 

Having  ascertained  the  position  of  the  enemy,  he  dashed 
into  the  swamp  to  attack  him  with  his  dogs.  They  were 
soon  upon  him.  He  had  chosen,  like  a  true  warrior,  a 
vantage  ground.  And  there  he  stood,  bristled,  with  mouth 
foaming,  and  fanged  for  the  onset.  Near  by  him  lay  the 
faithful  hound  he  had  just  killed,  and  as  the  others  were 
tarried  on,  he  attacked  them  with  such  a  wild  ferocity, 
that  they  fled,  and  could  only  summon  courage  enough  to 
bay  him  from  a  distance. 

After  being  foiled  for  some  time,  in  getting  a  chance  to 
shoot  at  him,  a  lucky  shot  disabled  him,  and  one  or  two 
more  brought  him  down.  He  was  a  terrible  foe,  and  had 
fought  many  battles  with  the  hounds,  generally  coming  off 
victorious  from  both  them  and  the  hunters. 

An  overseer  on  one  of  the  plantations,  during  the  fall, 
had  killed  fourteen  bears.  He  told  many  thrilling  stories 
of  the  "hair-breadth  'scapes"  he  had  made  while  hunting 
them. 

But,  to  resume,  our  subject,  there  is  much  provincialism 
in  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  South.  And  finally, 
should  an  Englishman  seek  the  hospitality  of  the  planter's 
roof,  he  could  repose  on  a  mattress  spread  on  an  old  Eng- 
lish bed-stead,  the  same  lofty  and  rich  posts,  and  richly  or- 
namented canopy,  with  curtains,  that  once  graced  the  roy- 
al bed-chamber  of  "  Good  Old  Queen  Bess." 

The  planter's  fare  is  simple,  and  the  chase  supplies  his 
table  with  much  of  its  meat.  I  am  not  only  pleased  with 
this  simple  fare  of  the  planter's  board,  but  with  their  man- 
imr  of  sitting  at  table. 

Their  tables  are  usually  long,  and  remain  stationary  in 


88  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR'S 

the  dining-room.     This  is  sometimes  a  little  log  building 
separate  from  the  house. 

The  father,  at  meals,  takes  seat  at  one  end  of  the  table, 
his  eldest  son  at  his  right,  then  the  nex^  younger,  and  so 
on,  down  to  the  "  wee  bairn"that  can  "  toddle"  to  his  seat. 

The  mother  is  seated  at  the  other  end  of  the  table,  and 
her  eldest  daughter  at  her  right,  the  sister  next  in  age 
succeeding,  down  to  the  youngest.  The  guests,  if  gentle- 
men, are  seated  at  the  planter's  left  hand ;  if  ladies,  at 
his  wife's  left.  If  the  father  is  a  member  of  the  church, 
a  blessing  is  asked.  I  have  known  those,  who  did  not 
profess  to  be  Christians,  ask  blessings  at  their  tables. 

The  boiled  ham,  cooked  whole  always,  and  which,  on  ex- 
tra occasions,  is  tricked  off  with  cloves,  green  leaves,  and 
various-colored  dainty  bits,  in  a  tasteful  manner,  is  placed 
before  the  planter  ;  his  wife  has  the  tea,  coffee,  and  the 
delicacies  before  her.  By  the  aid  of  servants  every  one 
at  table  is  served. 

In  no  plabe,  not  even  in  the  most  back-woods  part  of  the 
country,  have  I  ever  heard  what  one  often  hears  in  the 
country,  especially  at  the  North,  immediately  after  being 
seated  at  table,  "Now  take  hold  and  help  yourself." 

The  civilities  of  life  generally  "roughen"  as  you  go 
from  city  into  the  country.  Whether  the  South  claims  it 
as  a  part  of  her  chivalry  or  not,  is  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  me,  but,  I  certainly  have  not  found  the  politeness  and 
civilities  of  her  town-life  changed  to  boorishness,  among 
the  most  back-woods  planters  of  her  country. 

But  again.  The  planter  takes  his  time  in  eating — don't 
"bolt  it  down,"  as  the  Yankees  do.  Leisure  and  ease  are 
inmates  of  his  roof.  He  takes  no  note  of  time.  Your 
Yankee  will  take  time  by  the  fore-lock,  and  push  business 
through.  But  a  Southron,  never  heard  of  the  "old  m^ 
with  the  scythe." 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  89 

A  friend  of  mine  from  Dowagiac,  Michigan,  making  a  trip 
to  tlie  South,  stopped  with  me  a  few  days ;  he,  being  a  prac- 
tical Yankee  lawyer,  was  suprised  at  the  air  of  indifference 
with  which  the  planter  gpoke  of  time.  He  was  not  aware 
that  time  here, 

"  Had  lost  his  glass  and  was  asleep  on  flowers." 

A  clock,  almanac,  and  a  good  fire,  are  hard  things  to 
find  in  a  planter's  house.  The  only  chronometer  he  has, 
is  the  cotton-plant,  and  that'  '^ticks''  but  once  a  year. 
The  word,  haste,  is  not  in  a  Southron's  vocabulary.  He 
has  reversed  the  old  adage,  and  never  does  that  to-day 
which  can  be  done  to-morrow. 

While  waiting,  a  few  days,  at  the  Ridge  House,  for  a 
letter  in  regard  to  a  school  from  Dover,  ere  venturing  out 
again  in  a  new  direction,  I  took  a  pleasant  ride  to  Satar- 
tia.  The  day  was  fine,  and,  in  an  easy  carriage,  accom- 
panied by  a  Southern  lady,  we  rode  alternately  through 
beautiful  wood-lands,  and  by  fine  cotton-plantations. 

On  coming  out  of  the  uplands  to  the  bluffs  that  wall  up 
a  wide  border  of  valley,  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and 
from  which  you  descend  into  it,  I  had  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  landscape  views,  I  had  yet  enjoyed  any  where 
in  the  country. 

The  long  winding  strip  of  valley,  that  lay  spread  out 
below  me,  looked  like  a  broad  strip  of  variegated  green 
carpet ;  the  village  of  Satartia,  and  the  planters'  house?', 
five  or  six  in  sio^ht,  with  their  little  neorro  villas  about 
them,  looked  like  beautiful  raised  figures  on  it ;  the  fences 
looked  like  leaden-colored  vines  traced  across  it ;  wliile 
the  Yazoo  river  looked  like  a  winding  strip  of  blue  water- 
colored  ribbon,  running  through  the  middle  of  it  between 
green  fingers. 


\)0  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR's 

From  the  bluffs  we  descended,  by  two  gradual  sweeps 
in  the  road,  to  the  valley.  A  mile  or  Bo  brouc'ht  us  to 
the  town.  In  Satartia  I  saw  some  of  the  yeomanry  of 
Mississippi.  A  knot  of  them  in  their  dress  and  general 
appearance  might  be  mistaken  for  a  group  of  our  wealthy 
Michigan  farmers.  But  one  would  notice  more  than  a 
usual  number  of  riding-whips,  or  "raw-hides,"  on  their 
hands,  and  the  same  undue  proportion  of  spurs  in  the  heel 
of  the  right  boot.  And  in  their  conversation  he  would 
hear  nothing  of  the  farm  and  its  products,  but  of  the  plant- 
ation and  cotton.  The  Southron  does  not  have  such  a  va- 
riety of  topics  about  his  affairs  in  his  conversation.  They 
are  fewer  than  with  the  Northerner.  Neither  do  the  busi- 
ness, cares,  and  toils  of  this  life  worry  and  torment  his 
mind. 

He  talks  about  the  weather  as  it  is  pleasant,  or  disa- 
greeable to  his  own  feelings,  not  as  it  affects  his  crop, 
or  his  business.  If  a  "freshet"  should  have  inundated 
and  ruined  half  his  cotton  crop,  or  even  the  whole  of  it, 
he  would  talk  about  it  with  the  non  chalance  of  a  Talley- 
rand. One  listening  to  the  range,  spirit  and  humor  of 
their  conversation  could  tell  them  from  Northerners. 

And  furthermore,  the  peculiar  words  and  phrases — "I 
reckon,"  "right  smart,"  "a-heap,"  and  others  that  they 
used,  would  be  a  sure  indication  that  they  were  Southrons. 
But,  aside  from  all  this,  were  I  as  blind  as  Bartimeus,  and 
ignorant  that  I  was  in  the  South,  I  could,  on  riding  up  to 
the  planter's  gate,  after  having  given  the  halloo,  tell 
where  I  was,  and  who  was  addressing  me,  from  the  very 
words  that  I  heard. 

I  defy  a  Northerner — even  a  Yankee,  with  all  his  nat- 
ural adaptation  of  character,  to  address  you  and  invite  you 
in,  like  a  true  Southron.  He  invites  you,  in  a  way  that 
no    one  else  does.     He  answers  your  halloo,  by  meeting 


SOJOURX   IX   THE    SOUTH.  91 

YOU  at  the  gate,  and  in  the  kindliest  manner  extends  you 
his  hand,  Avith  his  warm  and  friendly,  "■  How  do  you  do, 
sir  ?  TVon't  you  alight,  come  in,  take  a  seat,  and  sit  a 
while?" 

In  the  first  place,  he  addresses  you  in  a  gentlemanly 
manner,  using  the  old  Norman  or  knightly  "  sir."  But 
let  us  remark  here,  that  many  words,  phrases,  and  much 
of  the  manner  and  bearing  of  a  Southron,  are  true  rem- 
nants of  the  days  of  chivalry.  Besides  the  use  of  the  w.ofd 
"sir,"  we  have  mentioned,  notice  the  word,  "alight,"  or 
the  expression,  "  gex  down  from  your  horse,"  both  of  which 
they  use,  and  both  are  words  or  phrases  found,  used  in 
like  manner,  as  characteristic  of  the  feudal  days.  And 
the  next  sentence — "come  in,  take  a  seaf,. and §2^ awhile," 
expresses  the  true  hospitality  of  the  gentleman  or  knight 
in  those  hospitable  days.  Or,  it  is,  with  the  other  two 
terms  mentioned,  "part  of  the  loyalty  to  the  honorable 
and  chivalric,  which  forms  the  subsoil"  of  a  Southron's 
nature. 

Now,  your  Yankee  would,  on  hearing  the  halloo  at  his 
gate,  eye  you  a  moment,  by  way  of  "guessing"  who  you 
were,  and  then  answer  your  salutation  with  his  laconic 
"how-d'-ye-do."  Would  he  go  out  to  the  gate  to  meet 
you  ?     What  for  ?     He  would,  if  he  thought    "  'twould 

pay,"  or  if  he  wished  to "  dun  you.''     And  if 

he  invited  you  in,  it  would  be,  "Won't  ye  hitch  and  come 
in  i 

We  saw  nothing  in  the  streets  of  Satartia  to  indicate  that 
it  was  not  a  Southern  town.  The  number  of  horses,  sad- 
dled and  hitched  to  posts,  appeared  to  tally  with  the  "  rid- 
ing-whips" and  "spurs"  we  have  before  mentioned. 

We  saw  but  a  carriage  or  two  in  the  streets,  hence  few 
ladies  were  in  town.  But  those  few  did,  no  doubt,  as 
much  trading  as  five  times  the  number  of  Northern  ladies 


92  JOTTINGS    OF   A   year's 

would  have  done.  A  little  incident,  over  which  we  were 
much  amused,  occurred  in  a  town  near  this  place,  that  will 
illustrate  what  we  have  said  about  their  shopping. 

The  planter  came  into  the  store,  where  his  wife  was 
trading,  and  inquired  about  some  bills  of  purchase  that 
several  merchants  had  presented  him.  He  did  not  know 
that  he  owed  these  men  a  farthing.  His  wife  glanced  over 
them  and  smiled  as  she  said,  "  ^Vhj,  that  bill  of  eighty- 
fife  dollars  is  the  amount  of  Faxxie's  shopping  at  Mr. 
F.'s  store.  The  one  of  one  hundred  dollars  is  mine.  1 
could  not  get  here  half  the  articles'*!  wanted,  and  so  1 
traded  a  little  at  Mr.  G.'s.  And  these  other  bills,  (that 
amounted  in  all  to  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,)' 
why,  you  know  Carrie's  going  off  to  school,  of  course  she 
must  have  her  '  outfit,'  these  are  hers." 

The  planter  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with  this  story ; 
paid  the  amount  of  the  difi'erent  bills,  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters stepped  into  their  fine  carriage,  the  negro  driver 
mounted  to  his  seat,  and  drove  ofi*  to  their  plantation- 
home  ;  and  he,  mounting  his  horse,  rode  on  after  them, 
as  if  he  was  the  mere  "attache,"  or  "purser,"  belonging 
to  this  lady  and  her  splendid  equipage. 

There  are  but  two  stores  in  Satartia,  yet  each  trades  to 
the  amount  of  sixty  thousand  dollars  annually.  The  one 
is  owned  by  Mr.  H.,  a  gentleman  from  Germany,  who  has 
amassed  a  fortune  here  among  Southern  planters ;  the 
other,  by  Mr.  W.,  who,  like  very  many  other  Northerners, 
left  his  home  in  search  of  the  "golden  fleece"  South,  and 
luckily  has  found  it. 

A  Southern  town,  or  road,  never  lacks  one  unmistakable 
sign  of  its  being  in  the  South.  Though  it  moves  along  the 
streets  and  the  road  as  slow  and  monotonous  as  the  hour- 
hand  on  the  dial-plate,  yet  it  just  as  truly  arrives  at  its 
point  of  destination  ;  it  is  the  negro  with  his  prolix  mule- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  93 

team,  before  his  lumbering  cotton-wagon.  You  can  follow 
him  anywhere  through  the  woods,  by  the  crack  of  his 
long-lashed  ox-whip,  which  he  appears  to  execute,  ever 
and  anon,  with  a  flourish  about  the  heads  of  his  mules, 
for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  keeping  them  in  motion.  It 
is  as  good  as  a  bell. 

Our  ride,  both  to  Satartia  and  home  again,  we  enjoyed 
very  much.  Th^  road  was  very  dry  and  smooth,  and  al- 
though it  was  near  winter — the  very  last  of  Noveiiiber, 
it  seemed  to  me,  so  recently  from  the  cold  Northern  re- 
gions, "that  the  winter  was  past,  the  rain  over  and  gone  ; 
for  the  flowers  appeared  on  the  earth  ;  the  time  of  the  sing- 
ing of  birds  was  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  was  heard 
in  the  land." 

Arriving  at  the  gate,  a  servant  was  called,  we  alighted 
from  the  carriage,  and  walked  into  the  hospitable  mansion 
of  our  friend  Major  W. 

Aj|d  here  let  me  describe  the  belongings,  the  moveables 
— what  one  would  notice  about  a  plantation-house. 

Sitting  on  a  board-shelf,  resting  on  pegs  driven  into  the 
logs,  either  on  the  side  of  the  logs  within  the  hall,  or  in 
front  under  the  porch,  you  invariably  find  a  water-pail, 
with  the  long  handle  of  a  cocoa-nut  dipper,  sticking  out  of 
it.  Also,  in  the  porch,  you  see  several  long  pegs  driven 
into  the  logs,  some  four  or  five  feet  from  the  floor ;  these 
are  for  hanging  the  saddles,  bridles,  and  that  sort  of  things 
upon.  But  very  often  you  see  the  vacant  pegs,  and  the 
saddles  and  bridles  lying  on  the  floor  beneath  them, 

*' And  o'er  the  chimney  rests  the  gun, 

And  hang  in  idle-  trophy,  near, 

The  powder-pouch,  fishing-rod  and  spear." 

Between  the  logs,  which  are  seldom  ''  chinked,"  you 
will  notice  newspapers  sticking  out,  and  books  or  various 


94  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

things  that  have  been  casually  placed  there.  You  also 
usually  find  several  vacant  chairs  in  the  porch,  placed  just 
.as  the  last  group  who  were  seated  in  them,  left  them. 
Perhaps  sprinkles  of  ashes  from  their  pipes  scattered  on 
the  floor  near  each  chair,  and  the  pipes  themselves,  lying 
between  the  logs  hard  by.  Or  you  may  catch  the  party 
there,  seated  in  their  chairs,  chatting  on  the  various  things 
incident  to  such  a  group,  and  all  smoking  the  accustomed 
cani-stemmed,  thick,  clay  pipe  with  a  man's  head  on  it. 
If  one  of  the  group  knows  you,  you  are  politely  introduced 
to  the  rest.  And  whatever  luxury  they  are  enjoying,  you 
are  offered  a  share  of  it.  If  smoking,  a  pipe  is  handed 
you  ;  or,  if  chatting,  and  you  have  no  errand,  you  are  sup- 
posed to  be  a  participant  in  it.  You  are  entitled  to,  or 
they  seem  to  consider  you  as  deserving  their  attention  and 
hospitality.  And,  what  is  so  common  ta  man,  "  couch  ant 
or  levant,"  in  the  old  or  new  world,  should  that 

"Real,  old,  particular,  friendly,  punchy  feeling"'        ^ 

seize  them,  vou  are  invited  to  drink  with  them,  whatever 
you  choose  ;  many  of  the  planters  keep  the  various  wines 
and  choice  drinks.  Or,  should  dinner  be  ready,  you  are 
invited  in  to  dine  with  them.  Y"ou  find  the  planter  a  most 
agreeable,  courteous  and  hospitable  man  ;  and  that  his 
suest  is  the  best  entertained  man  in  the  world. 

This  is  of  a  log  plantation-house  in  the  uplands,  in  the 
valley  you  find  better  buildings,  everything  else  the  same. 

We  had  forgotten  to  notice  the  hounds  ;  they  are  "  be- 
loncfinjzs,"  and  ""moveables''  that  one  would  be  apt  to  no- 
tice,  from  the  fact  that  they  are  so  much  inclined  to  notice 
you.  They  are  principally  the  terrier,  and  a  hound  be- 
tween the  blood  and  the  greyhound.  You  will  find  them 
baying  at  you,  at  the  gate,  or  lounging  about  the  porch, 
or  under  it,  or  about  the  grounds,  while  whole  tribes  of 


SOJOURX    IX   THE    SOUTH.  95 

Shanghaes,  troops  of  Turkeys,  convoys  of  Ducks,  and 
bevies  of  Guinea  Hens,  in  vast  numbers,  are  about  the 
ground  in  the  rear-yard. 


CHAPTER  YIII 


'•  Eai-ly  they  took  Dun-Edin's  road, 
And  I  could  trace  each  step  they  trode; 
Hill,  nor  brook,  nor  rock,  nor  stone. 
Laid  in  the  path  to  me  unknown. 
But  a  forest-land,  "which  varying  still 
With  ridge,  ravine,  like  dale  and  hill;" 
'  And  where  the  broad  plantation  lay. 
With  its  fields  of  cotton  hedge-rows,  gay. 


Scott. 


Once  more  we  were  to  go  out  in  search  of  a  school. 
Once  more.  But  we  were  relieved  this  morning  from  tak- 
ing another  horse-back  ride  of  some  sixteen  miles;  Mrs. 
W.  offered  us  a  seat  in  her  carriage,  which  we  gladlv  ac- 
cepted, and  had  the  pleasure  of  riding  with  her  and  a 
young  lady-cousin,  to  ''Rose  Hill,"  Colonel  R.'s  plantation. 

In  the  balmy  air  of  a  lovely  morning,  in  the  last  of  No- 
vember, Ave  rode  through  a  beautiful  wood-land  country, 
undulating  with  swells  that  swept  down  and  away  again, 
ere  they  rose  to  the  prominence  of  hills.  But  the  beauty 
of  our  landscape  was  marred  by  the  high  backs  of  "ridges, 
that  wound  along  and  across  it,  like  huge  serpents,  form- 


96  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

ing  deep  gullies,  and  yawning  ravines  between  their  intri- 
cate folds. 

We  passed  several  plantations  with  rather  poor  houses, 
and  poorer  fences  around  them.  Looking  like  a  thing  ut- 
terly forsaken,  and  very  much  dilapidated,  we  saw  a  log 
school-house,  standing  off  in  the  woods,  some  distance  from 
the  road.  There  was  no  house  within  two  miles  of  it."  It 
seemed  too  forlorn  a  place  for  any  person.  Yet  the  ro- 
mance of  teaching  here  had  induced  several  teachers  to 
leave  theu'  homes  two  thousand  miles  away  in  the  North, 
to  become  tenants  of  this  hermit  abode. 

We  thought,  as  we  passed  by  it,  that  perhaps  "''the  ro- 
mance of  the  thing"  had  led  some  one  of  our  Northern 
young  ladies  here,  and  who,  after  being  the  occupant  of 
this  lonely  abode  foV  several  weeks,  had  found  the  roman- 
tic mood  somewhat  changed.  We  imagined  her  sighing, 
as  she  urged  some  little  Southern  loiterer  along  t\ie  flowery 
path  of  knowledge — 

"What  else,  alas!  could  there  betide 
AVith  '  naught  but  romance'  for  my  guide  ? 
Better  had  I  through  mire  and  bush 
Been  lantern-led  by  friar  Rush." 

We  also  noticed  a  plantation,  just  beginning  in  the 
woods.  A  house  was  half  erected,  and  some  fifty  aci-es  of 
the  timber  ''  deadened."  Some  planter,  we  were  informed, 
was  starting  alone,  without  slaves. 

A  portion  of  the  old  forest,  standing  girdled  and  dead 
in  the  deep  green-wood,  always  appeared  to  me  one  of 
Nature's  burial-grounds. 

On  coming  up  to  "Rose  Hill"  plantation,  we  seemed  to 
be  approaching  "  old  Drummond  Castle,  of  Hawthornden," 
or  some  other  old  English  Castle,  seated  on  a  fine  emi- 
nence, commanding  a  .view  of  its  rough,  widely-extended 


SOJOURN    IN   THE    SOUTH.  97 

and  broken  domain.  It  is  a  princely  mansion,  looking  out 
from  its  elevated  position  through  a  wealth  of  evergreen- 
trees  and  shrubs  ;  and  many  a  lordly  oak  throws  its  shade 
over  its  sloping  lawns. 

We  passed  through  several  gates  and  yards  before  we 
were  ushered,  by  a  servant  that  had  met  us  at  the  first 
gate,  into  the  inner  grounds  about  the  "  Castle."  Here 
we  found  a  rich  profusion  of  ornamental  trees,  among  them 
the  magnolia,  the  holly,  and  all  the  evergreens — even  the 
mistletoe,  on  a  large  shade-tree,  was  pointed  out  to  us. 
There  was  neatness,  taste  and  beauty  displayed  in  laying 
out  and  adorning  these  grounds. 

The  residence  is  a  two-story  building,  the  second  plant- 
ation-house we  had  seen  in  the  uplands  not  built  of  logs. 
It  has  three  dormer  windows  in  front,  and  a  fine  porch 
with  a  railing  running  around  it,  and  a  little  lattice-gate 
in  its  center,  to  which  you  ascend  by  four  steps,  and  over 
which  Colonel  R.'s  hand  was  extended,  ever  readv  to  re- 
ceive  and  welcome  his  guests. 

He  is  a  Tenneseean,  and  received  the  title  he  bears  un- 
der Jackson,  in  the  last  war.  He  is  a  well  informed  man, 
of  polite  manners,  and  delights  in  the  chase,  for  which  he 
has  ever  ready  trained  horses  and  hounds. 

For  the  sake  of  the  education  of  a  little  grand-daughter 
whom  he  has  adopted,  he  has  erected  a  pretty  little  school- 
house,  finely  finished  inside  and  out.  He  also  allows  a 
few  other  children  to  attend,  as  playmates  for  his  little 
^^ protege.''  This  petit  academy  is,  on  Sunday,  a  little 
chapel  for  his  family,  a  neighbor  or  two,  and  his  tenants. 

Miss  T.,  of  Ohio,  is  his  very  excellent  teacher.  She 
has  since  died,  while  teaching  here  in  this  delightful  abode. 

We  have  been  more  particular  in  noticing  Colonel  R.'s 
plantation,  on  account  of  its  rough,  and  apparently  untill- 
able   domain    of  some  six  thousand  acres,  which  nature 

G 


98  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

seems  to  have  formed  more  in  a  romantic  than  a  utilitari- 
an mood.  And  it  is  not  a  cotton-plantation.  He  only 
makes  one  hundred  bales  of  cotton  yearly.  His  attention 
is  chiefly  given  to  raising  cattle  and  sheep.  He  informed 
me  that  he  usually  "marked"  four  or  five  hundred  calves 
every  spring.  Planters  generally  have  said  that  sheep 
could  not  be  made  profitable  here.  They  have  no  pas- 
tures for  them.  Colonel  R.  contradicts  this.  He  had 
just  received  a  letter  from  Colonel  Ware,  of  Tennesee,  a 
celebrated  "wool  grower,"  pricing  his  sheep — the  Cots- 
wold  breed.  The  wool  was  'six  inches  long,  and  the  finest 
and  richest  I  ever  saw.  Will  not  the  mildness  of  the 
Southern  winter  cause  the  wool  to  grow,  during  this  sea- 
son, instead  of  retarding  its  growth,  as  our  cold  Northern 
ones  do  ? 

After  supper,  at  which  we  found  a  greater  variety  of 
the  luxuries  of  life  than  we  had  usually  done  at  planters' 
tables,  and  after  we  had  had  a  chat  with  Colonel  R.,  just 
before  retiring  for  the  night,  he  invited  us  all  to  attend 
family  prayer  with  him.  He  did  not  forget  to  thank  his 
God  for  the  blessings  of  life  he  was  enjoying.  We  were 
then  shown  to  our  room  by  him,  a  servant  also  attending 
us,  who  took  our  boots  and  blacked  them.  The  room  was 
finely  furnished,  and  graced  by  a  rich  old  Elizabethan 
bed-stead.     But  as  we 

"Wrapped  the  drapery  of  our  couch  about  us, 
And  lay  down  to  pleasant  dreams, 

we  should  surely  have  preferred  the  thick  "  bossy  shield 
of  Achilles,"  to  this  hard  bed.  The  mattress  had  been 
taken  out  from  beneath  the  light  feather  bed,  and,  by  ac- 
cident, had  not  been  replaced. 


SOJOURX   IN   THE    SOUTH.  99 

*'  The  child  will  weep  a  bramble's  smart, 

A  maid  to  see  her  sparrow  part, 

A  stripling  for  a  woman's  heart  ; 

But  when  o'er  the  tray'ler's  weary  bed. 

Doth  sleep,  in  vain,  her  poppies  shed, 

Then  list  the  grief — the  groans — the  sighs 

That  flood  with  manly  tears  his  eyes." 

"We  deserve  the  pillorj  for  having  mentioned  this,  be- 
cause not  an  unpleasant  reflection  shoukl  arise  with  the 
remembrance  of  the  princely  hospitality  we  ever  met  with 
at  Rose  Hill,  from  Colonel  R.  and  his  estimable  lady.  It 
was  only  the  prick  of  the  thorn  we  felt  from  sleeping  on 
roses.  Probably  the  thing  would  not  occiu'  again  to  a 
guest  at  this  mansion,  in  a  score  of  Olympiads. 

In  the  mornincj  we  took  the  carriao^e,  and  drove  to  Oak 
Ridge,  near  which  Esquire  "W.  lived,  another  planter,  to 
whom  we  had  been  referred,  who  wished  "  to  get  up  a 
school." 

"  To  get  up  a  school,"  a  phrase  used  here,  often  implies 
more  than  merely  "hiring  a  teacher."  It  has  a  sort  of 
"  squatter  sovereignty"  significance  ;  a  log  house  is  erect- 
ed in  the  woods,  and  the  teacher  thus  makes,  or  tukes  pos- 
session of  his  "  claim."  And  the  commencing  of  his  term 
is  called,  "taking  in  school." 

We,  in  our  ride  this  morning,  passed  by  another  of  these 
solitary  habitations,  or  one  that  had  once  been  inhabited, 
but  was  now,  like  an  old  bird's-nest,  deserted  of  its  dam 
and  brood.     It  stood  crowning  a  knoll  in  the  woods. 

"  There  was  nothing  left  to  fancy's  guess, 
You  saw  that  all  was  loneliness." 

Perhaps  some  Ichabod  Craxe  of  the  North  had  here, 
between  the  hours  given  to 

"Slates,  books  and  boys," 


100  JOTTINGS    OF   A   year's 

courted  some  Southern  Katarixa  Van  Tassel,  and  won 
her  successfully. 

Our  directions  we  remember  to  have  been  this,  from 
Eose  Hill  to  Esquire  W.'s  : 

^'  Follow  the  ridge  around  the  deep  guile j,  go  through 
Mrs.  J.'s  plantation — a  relation  of  Colonel  Richard  M. 
JoHXSON,  and  turn  to  the  right  hj  the  Cherokee  rose,  and 
in  a  mile  or  two  you  will  come  to  a  garden  on  the  left 
hand  side  of'  the  road  from  the  house ;  turn  to  the  left 
around  this  garden,  and  you  will  soon  be  at  Esquire  W.'s." 

We  did  so,  and  soon  found  oiu'self  there. 

This  planter  wished  a  school,  and  would  be  willing,  with 
two  or  three  others,  to  pay  nearly  fifty  dollars  per  month. 
But  he  could  not  hire.  They  had  trustees  here,  whom  if 
I  would  come  and  see  in  a  few  days,  they  would  decide  about 
the  school.  We  had  only  to  rein  our  horses  about  and  go 
back  to  Rose  Hill — merely  that  and  nothing  more. 

"Look  not  sadly  on  the  past, 

Faith  and  love  are  growing  stronger ; 
Buds  of  hope  are  swelling  fast, 

Wait  a  little  longer." 

On  our  return  to  the  Ridge  House,  we  had  been  inter- 
rupted both  going  and  coming,  by  driving  around  trees 
that  had  fallen  across  the  road,  Mrs.  W.  pointed  out  to 
us,  the  tree  that  had  lately  fallen  upon  a  planter's  car- 
riage and  killed  a  daughter,  sitting  by  the  side  of  her 
mother,  while  her  mother,  and  a  smaller  sister  in  her  arms, 
escaped  unhurt. 

The  next  day  we  visited  Miss  G.'s  school,  Belle vue 
Academy,  that  we  have  before  described.  The  school 
consists  of  about  fifteen  scholars.  Some  come  four  or  five 
miles,  riding  on  horseback,  attended  by  negro  servants, 
and  some  come  in  carriages.     The  higher  English  branch- 


SOJOURN    IN   THE    SOUTH.  •     101 

es,  French,  and  music,  were  usually  taught  here.  I  think 
history  is  studied  more  at  the  South,  than  in  our  Northern 
schools. 

It  was  a  novel  sight  to  see  a  school-room  decked  with 
boughs  of  the  "rarest  mistletoe,"  and  branches  from  the 
evergreen  holly.  The  following  fragment  of  poetry  oc- 
curred to  us  : 

"The  mistletoe  hung  in  the  castle  hall, 

And  the  holly -branch  shone  on  the  old  oak  wall." 

Referring  to  them  in  old  English  mansions ;  but  they 
seemed  very  appropriate  here. 

The  school  was  under  good  discipline.  It  had  been, 
generally,  under  the  charge  of  Northern  young  ladies. 
The  people  here  preferred  them,  not  merely  from  their 
habit  of  getting  school-teachers  from  abroad,  but  because 
they  WTre  fond  of  their  society  for  themselves  and  their 
families.  I  have  been  prouder  of  Northern  young  ladies 
that  I  have  met  here  as  teachers,  than  of  Northern  young 
men  in  that  vocation. 


-r-^ 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"Where  the  foot-path  rustics  plod, 
Where  the  breeze-bowed  poplars  nod, 
Where  his  pencil  paints  the  sod, 
Where  the  old  woods  worship  God." 

Elliott. 

The  heavy  dews  of  last  night  hung  in  drops  from  every 
leaf  and  bough  in  the  forest,  and  when  morning  came,  in 
her   fresh   radiance,    she  converted  them  all  into  jewels. 


102  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

This  is  a  tribute  of  splendor  she  pays  to  the  day.  Though 
she  may  do  this  at  other  times,  on  every  fair  morning,  yet 
this  is  the  Sabbath  morning,  and  a  peculiar  robe  of  rich- 
ness clothes  everything.  Nothing  appears  to  be  attract- 
ive in  the  house,  for 

"  God  and  beauty  are  out  of  doors." 

We  are  to  go  to*  church  this  morning.  The  servant  has 
already  brought  out  the  carriage  to  the  gate,  and  sits  in 
his  seat  holding  the  horses.  My  horse  also  stands  saddled, 
and  hitched  to  the  post.  Master  Harry  W.  is  to  accom- 
pany me  on  his  little  pony. 

A  pleasant  ride  of  two  miles,  over  a  pleasant  road, 
brought  us  to  the  church.  The  building  is  of  cypress- 
wood,  and  though  homely  and  unattractive  in  its  appear- 
ance, yet  the  forest  trees  standing  about  it  beautify  the 
place  of  the  sanctuary.  It  is  the  church  we  have  before 
described. 

We  found  that  many  people  had  already  arrived.  The 
planters  and  their  sons  came  on  horse-back.  Their  horses 
stood,  here  and  there,  under  the  trees,  with  the  bridle 
thrown  over  a  lower  limb,  or  fastened  to  small  trees  and 
clumps  of  grape-vines.  One  of  them  will  stand  hitched  to 
a  little  twig,  all  day  long,  as  contentedly  as  if  hitched  to 
a  post. 

Carriages,  silver-plated,  flashing  back  the  sun-beams 
from  their  burnished  surfaces,  with  negro  drivers  in  livery, 
sitting  or  lounging  in  their  seats,  each  with  the  reins  in 
his  hands,  holding  a  fine  span  of  horses  before  them,  are 
standing  in  various  places  about  the  church,  in  the  shade 
of  the  trees ;  others  come  glittering  and  whirling  up,  in 
different  directions  from  out  the  woods,  pause  a  moment 
at  the  steps,  while  richly  dressed  ladies  step  out  of  them, 
and  w^alk  into  tho    church.     Other   planters,  and  young 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  103 

men,  with  now  and  then  a  ladj,  on  horse-back,  continued 
to  come,  till  enough  men  had  assembled  to  constitute  sev- 
eral groups,  that  stood  conversing  here  and  there  about 
the  church. 

I  was  a  stranger  among  them,  and,  from  the  novelty 
of  it,  an  observer  of  this  Sabbath  scene,  which,  that  no 
more  appeared  to  come,  I  now  supposed  to  be  completed ; 
when  I  saw,  emerging  from  a  bend  in  the  road,  a  plain 
dressed  getleman  and  ladj,  in  a  poor  old  buggy,  drawn  by 
a  horse  as  poor. 

This  lonely  vehicle,  that  came  up  and  stopped  before 
the  church  door,  appeared  very  coarse  and  plebeian,  when 
compared  with  the  splendid  patrician  equipages  that  were 
glittering  about  it.  This  gentleman,  who  was  middle 
aged,  with  his  young  looking  wife,  stepped  out  of  the  bug- 
gy; the  latter  went  into  the  church,  while  the  former  went 
about  from  group  to  group  among  the  planters,  and  shook 
hands  in  a  very  friendly  manner  with  them  all.  They 
greeted  him  cordially  and  with  much  respect.  It  was  par- 
son A.  who  had  formerly  preached  to  this  little  church, 
and  who  was  now  on  a  visit  to  his  old  parishioners  ;  he 
w^as  to  preach  to  them  to-day.  They  all  followed  him  in- 
to church — some  rather  slov,dy,  for  it  was  a  day,  when 
"the  idside  of  the  door  was  the  wrong  side  of  the  house." 

Seated  with  parson  A.  in  the  pulpit,  was  a  younger  par- 
son, who  had  not  yet  received  license  to  preach  ;  he  was 
in  his  "  exhorting  days."  The  young  Methodist  minister 
begins  by  first  preaching  to  the  negroes ;  then  he  is  ad- 
mitted to  the  conference,  from  which  place  he  is  sent  out 
on  his  circuit. 

The  sermon  was  a  common  one.  I  was  very  much  mis- 
taken in  the  man.  He  had  a  high  forehead,  and  a  head 
that  indicated  large  intellectual  powers,  Avith  a  physical 
development  that  a  Senator  would  be  proud  of.     The  ser- 


104  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

mon  was  on  the  pitch  of  a  roused  Boanerges.  I  lost  the 
text  in  the  low  voice  in  which  it  was  announced,  and  I 
lost  most  of  the  sermon  in  the  loud  voice  in  which  it  was 
delivered.  The  little  snow-ball  that  started  at  the  top 
of  the  hill,  came  down  upon,  us,  at  the  foot,  in  a  per- 
fect avalanche.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  this  man 
had  enough  material  in  him  to  make  two  or  three  common 
ministers. 

The  people  seemed  very  devotional.  Almost  every  one 
knelt,  during  the  prayers  that  were  offered,  and  I  was  in- 
formed, afterwards,  that  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  con- 
gregation of  sixty  people,  were  professed  members  of  the 
church. 

I  believe  that,  for  a  warm  shake  of  the  hand,  or  true 
friendly  greeting,  either  among  themselves  or  with  stran- 
gers, Southrons  would  be  Tioticed.  There  was,  at  least, 
a  warmth  of  feeling  and  friendship  expressed  by  this 
Sabbath  concourse,  towards  each  other,  as  they  met  and 
parted  at  church,  that  I  particularly  noticed. 


CHAPTER   X. 

"The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men, 

Gang  aft  a-gley." 

Burns. 

In  a  few  days  I  mounted  my  horse  again,  not  Rollo, 
whom  I  had  heretofore  rode  ;  I  had  changed  and  got  one 
safer ;  the  former  was  too  shy,  often  causing  me  to  ride  in 


SOJOURN   IN    THE    SOUTH.  105 

fear.  He  would  take  alarm  and  start  suddenly  from  tlie 
flight  of  a  bird  over  my  head,  and  whenever  one  of  those 
great  black,  American  vultures  raised  itself  on  its  lazy, 
albatross  wings,  from  the  fence,  where  troops  of  them 
would  sit  all  daylong  in  the  sun,  after  having  gorged  them- 
selves like  carrion  crows,  he  would  start  so  suddenly  that 
I  had  the  utmost  difficulty  in  keeping  my  seat  in  the  sad- 
dle. But  the  bay  pony  I  now  rode,  and  whom  I  claimed 
as  mine,  after  I  had  found  out  his  good  qualities,  nothing 
frightened  him ;  he  would  pass  through  the  most  alarming 
scenes  as  undisturbed  as  a  canal-boat. 

It  was  his  custom  after  I  had  raised  the  latch  of  the  gate, 
to  push  it  open  with  his  head,  and  if  it  swung  back  too 
quickly  against  his  haunches,  ere  he  got  through,  he,  in- 
stead of  kicking  at  it,  and  running  from  it,  as  Rollo  used 
to  do,  w^ould  turn  around  and  push  it  back  with  his  head. 
I  have  often  given  him  the  reins  and  let  him  manage  the 
gate  himself. 

Instead  of  going  immediately  to  Esquire  W.'s,  as  I  had 
promised  to  do,  or  intended,  I  rode  on  to  Dr.  H.'s,  in 
Milldale,  three  miles  further,  as  I  was  informed  he  wished 
a  teacher,  and  that  it  was  also  a  fine  situation.  Dr.  H.'s 
residence  was  the  best  finished  log  plantation-house  I  had 
yet  seen.  The  walk  to  it  from  the  gate  was  avenued  by 
fine  rows  of  arbor  vitse  trees.  It  was  a  beautiful  rural 
home,  with  its  humbler  negro  dwellings  in  their  shady  re- 
treat back  from  the  road.  I  found  him  a  man  of  science, 
and  fine  reputation  in  his  profession.  Many  of  his  old 
students  were  located  in  difi"erent  parts  of  the  country,  in 
the  practice  of  medicine*. 

He  wished  a  teacher,  but  could  not  hire  one  until  the  new 
directors  were  elected.  He  would  write  and  let  me  know, 
when  that  event  transpired.  Here  was  another  bud  of 
hope,  encouraging  me  to — 


106  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

"Wait  a  little  longer." 


'o^ 


I  rode  back  to  Esquire  W.'s  plantation,  through  a  beau- 
tiful wood,  where  birds,  with  plumage  in  all  the  lovely, 
parti-colored  hues  of  its  foliage,  werp  singing.  His  do- 
main was  rough  and  broken.  His  house — a  rude,  log 
structure,  the  palings  aj^out  it,  old  and  wretched.  Three 
or  four  arbor  vitge  trees,  with  two  of  their  tops  broken  oiF, 
alone  adorned  the  door-yard. 

The  family  consisted  of  himself  and  son,  three  buxom, 
healthy  daughters,  the  oldest  of  wht)m  had  just  married  a 
young  Missourian,  who  was  overseeing  for  his  father-in- 
law.  Besides  these,  there  were  several  small  children, 
with  two  or  three  relatives,  living  in  the  family. 

At  supper  I  met  them  all.  They  were  seated  at  the  ta- 
ble as  I  have  before  stated ; — the  father  was  at  the  head, 
like  the  old  patriarchal  wood  on  the  banks  of  the  Missis- 
sippi ;  the  oldest  son  was  the  growth  below,  and  so  they 
went  lowering  down  by  regular  grades  to  the  youngest 
stripling.  While  on  the  other  side,  the  youngest  daugh- 
ter commenced  like  the  young  cotton-wood  tree,  and  from 
her  they  rose  up  in  successive  gradations  to  the  parent- 
wood,  which  was  here  gone — the  mother  had  died.  The 
eldest  daughter  took  her  place. 

The  father  asked  a  blessing,  and  then  proceeded  to 
serve  us,  by  the  aid  of  a  servant,  to  the  plain  fare  before 
us.  I  have  seldom  seen  the  boiled  ham  missing  before 
the  planter,  at  his  table ;  fresh  pork  supplied  its  place 
here.  This  was  occasioned  by  the  fact,  that  the  "  Ides  of 
November"  had  just  passed  among  the  herd  of  swine  on 
this  plantation. 

During  the  evening  Esquire  W.  gave  me  his  history. 
He  was,  he  said,  in  religious  parlance,  what  was  denomi- 
nated a  "  hard  shell  Baptist."     But  there  was  not  much  in 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  107 

• 

a  name.  A  ^'hard  shell  Baptist,"  he  thought,  was  a  mis- 
nomer. At  least,  their  shells  were  as  soft  as  any  body 
elses/'  He  told  me  that  this  anti-mission  sect  of  Baptists 
were  numerous  in  the  "piny-woods"  part  of  Mississippi. 
He  beoran  life  for  himself,  as  an  overseer  on  Mrs.  Judo;e 

O  '  CD 

Shield's  plantation.  He  was  there  in  that  capacity, 
when  a  "raw  Yankee  boy,"  from  Maine,  came  there  to 
teach  in  her  family,  who  afterwards  was  so  widely  known 
as  the  eloquent  S.  S.  Prentiss.  And  he  had  the  honor 
to  have  given  him  the  first  fees  he  ever  won  in  a  law-suit. 
In  the  morning  I  met  the  trustees, 

"Now  by  two-lieaded  Janus, 
Nature  hath  framed  strange  fellows  in  her  time." 

I  did  not  like  their  looks — the  way  they  talked  about 
their  school — the  wages  they  offered  me — some  forty  dol- 
lars per  month  and  board  myself — nor  their  school-house 
— nor  the  idea  of  walking  so  far  to  a  boarding-place. 

They  told  hard  stories  about  their  neighbors — the  old 
trustees  using  the  public  money,  and  then  refusing  to  pay 
the  district  the  amount  expended.  They  were  hard  cases, 
and  it  could  not  be  collected  of  them. 

Considering  all  things  I  concluded  not  to  teach  this 
school.  Before  I  left,  Esquire  ^Y.  made  me  an  offer  to 
teach  as  private  tutor  in  his  family,  with  a  salary  of  some 
five  hundred  dollars  per  year,  and  a  home.  I  kept  this 
as  a  "forlorn  hope"  for  a  week  or  so,  but  abandoned  it 
as  soon  as  a  brighter  prospect  dawned  upon  my  path. 

A  few  hours'  ride  brought  me  to  Rose  Hill,  where  I 
stayed  all  night,  and  the  next  day  went  home. 

During  this  week  S.  and  I  took  a  horse-back  ride  of 
six  miles.  We  went  to  call  on  a  rich  planter's  daughter. 
At  the  North  it  would  be  going  to  see  a  young  lady  in  the 
country.     Here we'll  see. 


108  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

I  don't  know  what  horse  Chevalier  Bayard  rode  on 
such  trips,  but  ours  were  pacers — both  S.'s  and  mine. 
And,  by  the  way,  all  these  horses  are  pacers,  which  is 
a  fortunate  thing  for  this  equestrian  people,  for  the  gait  is 
as  easy  as  a  carrriage. 

The  morning  had  been  rain^^,  w^hich  with  yesterday's 
deluge  had  made  the  roads  very  muddy.  I  feared  my 
horse  would  slip  and  break  his  nfeck,  or  mine,  or  both,  all 
the  way  there.  I  know  our  Northern  horses,  unshod  like 
these,  would  have  slipped  down  twenty  times  going  this 
distance. 

We  reached  Mr.  M.'s  plantation  just  in  time  to  lose  our 
dinners.  He  has  a  fine  residence ;  the  walk  from  the 
front  gate  to  it  is  shaded  by  beautiful  arbor  vitaes,  and 
the  entire  grounds  about  the  house  are  adorned  by  fine  or- 
namental trees.  A  tall  "  Spanish  Dagger"  stood  leaning 
its  crested  head  against  the  veranda,  and  various  clumps 
of  shrubs  and  flowers  studded  the  yard. 

"VYe  found  Mr.  M.  an  intelligent  gentleman,  with  whom 
we  conversed  quite  a  while  about  a   Northern  land — ly- 
ing somewhere  between  the  great  lakes  and  the  matchless 
Ohio.     He  is  a  richly  possessed  Southron;  and  with  hi 
family  usually  spends  the  summer  in  traveling. 

Miss  Carrie,  his  daughter,  the  young  lady  who  was 
honored  with  our  call,  was  as  naive  as  a  "Nina" — as  full 
of  chit-chat  as  a  Bob-o-link  is  of  song,  and  as  playful  and 
frolic  as  "gentle  Elia."  From  a  hint  in  her  conversation 
I  concluded  that  she  had  visited  the  North,  w^hich  led  me 
to  ask  her  if  she  had. 

"  0  yes,"  she  replied,  "Ma  and  Pa,  sister  and  brother 
and  I  made  a  tour  of  the  North  last  summer."  And  then 
changing  the  subject  with  an  air  of  indifference  that  vexed 
you,  she  seemed  to  say, 

"  Don't  ask  any  more   questions,    Mr.    Northerner,    I 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  109 

have  seen  your  Hurons  and  Eries,  your  Niagaras  and 
Trentons,  your  Avons  and  Saratogas,"  as  if  they  had  been 
little  "stations"  she  had  passed  by  along  the  rail-road. 

While  conversing  with  her  father,  she  and  S.  left  us.  In 
a  short  time  I  heard  the  strains  of  music  from  another 
room.  Mr.  M.  arose  and  invited  me  into  the  drawing- 
room,  where  we  found  Miss  Carrie  entertaining  S.  by 
playing  some  lightsome  tune  on  a  magnificent  piano.  She 
then  played  for  us,  uniting  her  voice  with  the  rich  tones 
of  the  instrument,  which  we  enjoyed  very  much.  We 
were  in  that  mood  when  association  enhances  the  enjoy- 
ment of  music  so  much,  and  sets  one  a-dreaming.  The 
music  got  the  start  of  us,  we  know,  and  it  puzzled  us  to 
tell  how  well  Miss  Carrie  did  play. 

The  room  was  ornamented  with  large  paintings  of  the 
family ;  books  magnificently  bound  laid  on  a  rich  center- 
table,  and  a  little  cabinet  of  many  curious  and  rare  things 
brought  home  from  travel,  with  fine  daguerreotypes  of  the 
family,  of  a  daughter  away  to  the  North  at  school,  of  a 
Miss  W.  of  Vermont,  late  governess  in  the  family,  and 
whom  Miss  Carrie  said  she  "loved  most  dearly." 

Although  I  remember  this  visit  to  Mr.  M.'s  plantation, 
as  a  most  pleasant  and  agreeable  one,  yet  as  Willis  would 
say,  it  was  "sandwiched"  between  two  slippery  horse-back 
rides.  I  remember  one  hill  was  so  steep  that  my  horse, 
iroinfy  down  it,  slid  on  all  fours,  a  rod  at  a  time,  while  I 
feared  that  I  should  perform  one  of  those  "  circus-evo- 
lutions" over  his  head. 

After  waiting  a  few  days  I  heard  that  the  new  trustees 
in  Milldale  had  been  elected,  and  I  started  out  the  third 
time  for  that  place.  It  was  sixteen  miles  distant  on  the 
Rido-e  road  towards  Vicksburo;h.  I  am  one  of  three  com- 
petitors  for  the  school.  This,  aside  from  the  doubt  of  my 
getting  the  school  at  all,  makes  my  chance  two  thirds  less. 


110  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

And  my  competitors  have  both  the  advantage  of  me;  one 
is  a  Mississippian — an  old  teacher,  well  known  to  the  peo- 
ple. The  other  is  a  Missourian,  residing  with  a  relative 
who  js  one  of  the  patrons  of  the  school. 

I  had  gone  to  Milldale  the  day  previous  to  the  trial,  fdr 
we  understood  that  we  were  to  be  examined  by  a  graduate 
from  college,  and  the  one  that  passed  best  was  to  be  se- 
lected as  their  teacher. 

It  was  10  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  a  beautiful  day — 
one  of  those  days  in  which  '^  nature  is  glad  all  over  from 
flower  to  star,"  as  I  reined  my  horse  up  to  the  blacksmith's 
shop,  about  which  the  people  had  assembled,  ere  going 
over  to  the  school-house,  to  witness  the  examination.  The 
whole  neighboring  country  had  turned  out,  as  if  it  had 
been  training-day. 

Colonel  H.'s  son  riding  by  in  his  carriage,  seeing  me,  a 
stranger — Dr.  H.  could  not  be  present — stopped  his  car- 
riage and  introduced  me  to  five  or  six  of  the  gentlemen 
present.  It  was  one  of  the  many  kind  and  gentlemanly 
acts  that  it  had  been  my  lot  to  experience  South,  but  this 
was  of  a  nature  deserving  one's  warm  and  sincerest  thanks. 

At  the  appointed  time  we  all  went  over  to  the  school- 
house.  It  was  a  frame  building,  and  the  finest  one  I  had 
seen  of  the  kind,  situated  on  a  pleasant  knoll,  back  from 
the  road  in  a  fine  grove  of  trees. 

The  Missourian  told  me,  on  the  way  there,  that  although 
he  had  taught  school  once,  he  had  been  training  horses 
lately,  and  was  rather  rusty  in  his  knowledge.  He  was 
an  athlete — stout  and  robust,  fitter  for  any  other  arena,  I 
thoufjht,  than  that  of  the  school-room. 

The  trustees  were  me^  of  sober  judgment,  and  possessed 
of  intelligence  sufficient,  at  least,  to  perform  the  functions 
of  the  highest  official  duties  in  the  county.  Mr.  H.,  the 
collegian,  and  the  gentleman  Avho  was  to  examine  us,  ap- 


SOJOURX   IX   THE    SOUTH.  Ill 

peared  to  be  a  man  of  sound  intelligence  and  good  attain- 
ments. 

After  an  hour's  attention  to  other  matters,  the  officers 
came  to  the  affair  on  hand.  The  Mississip^^ian  was  well 
known,  he  "  rested  his  case  with  the  people."  Not  so 
with  the  Missourian  and  myself.  We  were  called  on,  law- 
yer-like, to  make  the  "  points  in  our  case,"  that  they  might 
get  some  clue  to  our  character  and  standing.  The  Mis- 
sourian took  the  floor  first.  I  have  no  intention  to  dis- 
parage the  fellow,  because  he  was  a  rival  for  the  school ; 
I  certainly  feared  the  Mississippian  the  most  in  the  trial ; 
but  I  could  not  help  thinking,  while  he.  was  relating  his 
experience  in  teaching,  which  was  not  very  interesting, 
that  he,  like  Tony  Lumpkins,  in  Goldsmith's  play,  had 
never 

" puzzled  his  brains 

With  grammar,  and  nonsense,  and  learning." 

After  he  had  got  through,  they  called  for  a  letter  of 
recommendation.  He  had  none.  But  his  relative — one 
of  the  patrons  of  the  school — would  inform  them,  shauld 
they  wish  to  know  anything  more  about  him. 

I  had  the  advantage  of  the  closing  plea.  What  I  had 
to  say  "  was  summed  up  in  brief."  They  then  called  for 
a  letter  of  recommendation.  This  was  a  ''bar"  to  my 
plea.  I  was  worse  off  than  the  Missourian  ;  I  had  given 
away  all  my  letters  of  recommendation,  and  had  no  friend 
to  vouch  for  me.  At  this  juncture,  I  chanced  to  think 
that  I  had  two  letters  that  Professor  H.,  of  Detroit,  Mich- 
igan, had  given  me,  and  although  they  were  not  addressed 
to  gentlemen  whom  they  knew,  I  presented  them  'as  my 
dernier  resort.  It  a^s  a  timely  hit ;  from  the  fact  that 
they  were  addressed  to  Southrons,  they  carried  much 
weight  with  them.  Having  read  them,  they  appeared  to 
be  satisfied. 


112  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

But  jet,  the  real  combat  was  to  come.  We,  as  cham- 
pions, had  entered  the  "list,"  by  merely  "touching  the 
refrain  of  our  spears  to  the  shield."  We  were  now  to  en- 
ter the  arena  by  "touching  their  points  against  it."  A 
critical  examination  was  to  ensue.  But,  at  this  crisis  in 
our  trial,  the  trustees  held  a  short  conference  by  them- 
selves, after  which  they  deliberately  told  us,  that  all  they 
could  now  do  for  us,  was  to  give  us  the  chance  of  getting 
the  school  by  drawing  up  a  subscription,  which  we  could 
have  the  privilege  of  circulating  among  the  patrons  of  the 
school,  and  the  one  that  got  the  most  signers,  Mr.  H. 
would  examine,  by  way  of  installing  him  into  his  office. 
This  was  a  poser — a  poser. 

I  concluded  to  parley  no  more  about  the  matter.  But, 
before  I  left  Milldale,  through  the  solicitation  of  Dr.  H.,  I 
drew  up  a  writing  in  regard  to  my  teaching  the  school, 
which,  he  assured  me,  he  would  have  circulated,  and  let 
me  know  the  result.  The  other  applicants,  of  course, 
would  do  the  same. 

I  stayed  all  night  with  him,  at  his  fine  home,  and  very 
much  enjoyed  his  society,  and  that  of  his  lady  and  their  two 
pretty  daughters,  who  had  lately  been  attending  boarding- 
school  in  Vicksburgh.  Mrs.  H.'s  brother,  Mr.  Frank  J., 
an  intelligent  and  worthy  young  gentleman,  was  residing 
in  their  famil3^     He  had  been  their  late  teacher. 

The  next  morning  I  started  for  home.  Giving  the 
loose  reins  to  my  horse,  I  rode  along  enjoying  the  lovely 
weather  of  a  tropical  December — the  Southern  woods,  in 
their  long  Spanish  beards,  though  faded  and  partly  leaf- 
less, yet  beautiful  with  their  ridges  crowned  with  oak  and 
unknown  trees  ;  with  their  evergreens — their  clambering 
and  tangled  vine-work;  with  their  dells  "  choked  up"  with 
the  green,  luxuriant  cane;  with  their  bird-songs,  and  soft 
gushes  of  rustling  leaf-music. 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  113 

Tired  of  sitting  so  long  in  tlie  saddle,  I  got  down  from 
it  at  the  gate  of  the  Ridge  House,  past  mid-afternoon. 
But  much  to  my  disappointment,  I  found  no  letters  from 
home — none  from  anywhere  else. 

This,  with  all  of  my  fruitless  adventures  in  search  of  a 
school,  made  me  feel  rather  melancholy.  I  don't  believe 
that  disappointment  has  any  new  springs  that  she  has  not 
lately  touched  to  surprise  me. 

I  never  was  a  favorite  of  Dame  Fortune  ;  I  believe, 
instead  of  recognizing  me  as  one  of  her  children,  she  has 
played  the  cruel  step-mother  to  me  ;  and,  considering  me 
a  little  truant,  has  laid  the  rod  on  unsparingly.  If,  in  a 
ramble  in  the  woods,  with  my  play-fellows,  I  cut  my  name 
on  a  tree,  visiting  the  spot  again,  I  was  sure  to  find  it 
eifaced,  while  those  of  my  mates  remained  untouched,  as 
if  guarded  by  her.  I  really  believe  she,  from  the  first, 
intended  to  thwart  mv  schemes — cross  mv  luck,  and 
disinherit  me  from  my  share  of  enjoyment  in  this  life,  that 
her  favorite  children  might  have  it  all.  If  there  was  a 
shadow,  she  has  thrown  it  across  my  path,  and  often,  with 
more  cruelty,  across  my  heart.  And,  in  fine,  if  I  am  to 
judge  of  her,  from  the  rigid  lessons  she  has  given  me 
through  life,  she  has  considered  me  her  little  Hercules  ; 
for  my  tasks  have  always  been  the  hardest,  and  most 
severely  imposed. 

"  Dame  Life,  though  fiction  out  may  trick  her, 

And  in  paste  gems  and  frippery  deck  her : 
V  Oh  I  flickering  feeble  and  unsicker. 

'  I've  found- her  still, 

On  wavering  like  the  ■willow  wicker 
'Tween  good  and  ill." 

Reader  !  don't  consider  this  a  do-Io-rous  lament,  just  on 
the  eve  of  a  felo-de-se.  No  ;  It  is  merely  what,  in  friendly 
parlance,  is  termed — "unbosoming"  one's  self  of  troubles, 

H 


11-i  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

to  some  ''bosomed-friend;"  or,  I  felt  a  little  of  the  "wo- 
ful  agony"  of  the  "ancient  mariner/' 

"  Till  my  ghastly  tale  was  told, 
And  then  it  left  me  free."' 

V 

But  I  sometimes  fear  that  my  pedagoguic  ''laurels" 
here,  will  turn  to  Southern  Avillows  ;  or,  that  I  shall  have 
to  twine  my  wreath  of  magnolias,  hollies,  Cherokee  roses, 
that  I  shall  earn  in  trying  to  find  a  school,  and  go  home. 

But  we  are  to  have  the  holidays  next  week  :  we  shall 
enjoy  them  and  tell  you  something  about  them  among 
this  feudal  people. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

"  Lo,  now  is  come  our  joyfulest  feast  I 

Let  every  man  be  jolly, 
Eache  roome  with  yvie  leaves  is  drest, 

And  every  post  with  holly. 
Now  all  our  neighbors'  chimneys  smoke. 

And  Christmas  blocks  are  burning ; 
Theu'  ovens  they  with  bak't  meats  choke, 
And  all  their  spits  are  turning. 
Without  the  door  let  sorrow  lie, 
And  if  from  cold,  it  hap  to  die, 
We'll  bury  't  in  a  Christmas  pie 
And  evermore  be  merry."' 


Sketch-Book. 


•'  And  is  old,  old,  good  old  Christmas  gone?  Nothing  but 
the  hair  of  his  good  old  gray  head  and  beard  left  ?  "Well, 
I  will  have  that,  seeino;  I  cannot  have  more  of  him." 


SOJOURN   IX    THE    SOUTH.  115 

No,  good  old  Christmas  is  not  gone.  Though  he  is  not 
?o  often  seen  in  his  jolly,  merry  humor  at  the  North,  as  in 
the  good  old  time  agone ; 

"  Still  linger  in  our  Northern  clime 
Some  remnants  of  the  good  old  time." 

Yet  this  mornino:  I  thouo^ht  the  old  fellow  had  really  come, 
for,  ere  I  was  up,  just  as  the  day  was  coming  in  from  the 
East,  the  negro  servant  came  into  my  room  to  build  a 
fire,  and  he  had  scarcely  opened  the  door,  ere  he  shouted 
— ''Christmas  gift,  Mr.  Yax  Burex  I  CJiristmas  gift,  Mr. 
Vax  BuREX  I  "  and  ere  he  had  shouted  twice,  another 
came  in,  and  vet  another,  till  the  room  was  filled  with  a 
joyous,  merry  chime,  of  negro  voices,  shouting,  ''  Christ- 
mas gifts,"  to  me. 

But  it  was  not  only  in  my  room  ;  I  heard  them  shouting 
it  to  every  one  about  the  house.  The  cry  sounded  from 
every  room, — •'  Christmas  gift,  massa  I" — "Christmas  gift, 
missus  !  "  '•  Christmas  gift  I  "  to  every  one  they  met. 

After  the  family  had  arisen,  there  was  a  merry  peal  of 
"  Christmas  gifts,"  as  they  met  each  other.  Miss  G.,  or 
myself.  I  returned  their  crreetino^  as  I  had  that  of  the 
negroes,  by  wishing  them  a  "  merry  Christmas,"  but  it  was 
lost  amid  a  shower  of  theirs.  I  became  discouraged — 
changed,  and  shouted  ''  Christmas  gifts"  with  them. 

As  soon  as  this  greeting  was  over,  and  we  had  all 
assembled  in  the  sitting-room,  servants  came  in  with 
foaming  cups  of  egg  nogg,  on  servers.  There  was  no 
use  talking  temperance  now.  They  ui*ged  the  cups  to  our 
lips,  if  we  did  no  more  than  sip  a  bubble  on  the  beaker's 
brim,  we  must  do  it  by  way  of  drinking  health  to  good  old 
Christmas.  We  had  scarcely  done  this,  ere  Miss  G.  came 
in,  and  detected  us  in  replacing  the  cups  on  the  server. 


116  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

She  hinted  something  about  temjDerance,  and  reporting  us 
to  our  Northern  friends. 

We  replied,  that  we  Avoukl  leave  it  to  the  hand  that 
penned  such  a  note,  whether  it  was  not  telling  its  own 
stor J ;  that  it  had  held,  this  morning,  a  foaming  goblet 
of  egg  nogg,  to  her  own  lips. 

We  were  soon  summoned  to  breakfast.  Our  repast  was 
truly  a  sumptuous  one.  Barrels  of  apples,  oranges,  oys- 
ters, large  quantities  of  wine,  and  all  the  cheer  for  the 
holidays  had  been  received  from  New  Orleans. 

We  had  a  chat,  at  table,  about  the  Southron  custom  of 
greeting  one  with  a  "  Christmas  gift,"  instead  of  wishing 
you  a  "  merry  Christmas,"  as  we  of  the  North  did.  They 
knew  nothing  about  the  origin  of  their  custom,  it  had  been 
with  them  time  immemorial. 

I  noticed  all  the  negroes  were  in  high  glee ; — 

"  The  negro  is  a  merry  negro,  when 
Old  Christmas  brings  his  sports  again, 
'Twas  Christmas  broached  the  migh'est  ale  ; 
'Twas  Christmas  told  the  merriest  tale  ; 
'Twas  Christmas'  gambols  oft  could  cheer 
The  negro's  heart  through  half  the  year.'" 

Besides,  he  announced  to  them  that  cotton-picking  was 
over  and  gone,  and  that  they  could  revel  in  fun  and  frolic 
for  a  whole  week. 

I  can  give  no  better  idea  of  the  manner  of  spending  the 
holidays  in  the  South,  than  by  quoting  from  a  writer  who 
thus  describes  them  in  "  Merry  England  :" 

"  In  large  houses  are  large  parties,  music  and  feasting, 
dancing  and  cards.  Beautiful  faces,  and  noble  forms, 
the  most  fair  and  accomplished  of  England's  sons  and 
daughters,  beautify  the  ample  firesides  of  aristocratic  halls. 
Senators  and  judges,   lawyers  and  clergymen,  poets  and 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  117 

phibsopliers,  there  meet  in  cheerful,  and  even  sportive 
ease  amid  the  elegancies  of  polished  life.  In  old-fashioned, 
but  aristocratic  country  abodes,  old-fashioned  hilarity  pre- 
vails. In  all  the  families,  hearty  spirits  are  met,  and  here 
are  dancing  and  feasting,  too. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  giving  a  description  of  Christmas 
in  "auld  Scotia,"  thus  merely  repeats  the  above  in  his 
beautiful  verse : 

"Then  opened  wide  the  baron's  hall 
To  vassal,  tenant,  serf,  and  all ; 
Power  laid  his  rod  of  rule  aside, 
And  ceremony  doffed  her  pride. 
The  heir  with  roses  in  his  shoes, 
That  night  might  village  partner  choose  ; 
The  lord,  underrogating,  share 
The  vulgar  game  of  'post  and  pair.' 
All  hailed  with  uncontrolled  delight. 
And  general  voice  the  happy  night, 
That  to  the  cottage  as  the  crown. 
Brought  tidings  of  salvation  down." 

This  is  literally  true  of  the  South.  Throughout  the 
country,  on  every  plantation,  there  is  a  merry  time — a 
joyous  leisure  from  all  work ;  merry  Christmas  is  with 
them  all.  The  negroes,  whole  troops  of  them  mounted  on 
mules,  male  and  female,  laughing  and  singing,  go  from 
one  plantation  to  another  ;  thus  gathering  in  jolly  groups 
they  feast  and  frolic  and  dance  the  time  away. 

They  are  all  dressed  in  their  best,  many  of  them  in 
broadcloth.  They  have  their  nice  white  dickies  on,  their 
boots  are  blacked,  and  a  white  or  silk  handkerchief  is  sure 
to  display  itself  from  some  one  of  their  pockets,  or  from 
their  hand.  A  negro  is  your  true  frolicker.  His  sable 
periphery  will  hold  more  merriment,  fun  and  pent  up 
animal  spirit,  than  any  other  human  being's. 


118  JOTTIXGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

To  see  a  group  of  them  on  the  floor,  or  on  the  lawn, 
beneath  the  shade  of  the  China-trees,  when 

"  Hornpipes,  jigs,  strathspeys  and  reels 
Put  life  and  mettle  in  their  heels  ;" 

whh'ling  in  the  giddj  mazes  of  the  dance  with  their  buxom 
dulcenas,  each  seeming  to  vie  with  the  other  in  dancing 
the  most ;  it  is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  animated 
nature  I  ever  gazed  upon. 

No  restraint  of  the  ettiquettish  ball-room,  to  fetter  their 
actions  and  motions,  but,  charged  like  galvanic  batteries, 
full  of  music,  they  dance  with  a  vigorous  vim. 

E-estraint !  whew !  they'd  burst  like  steamers.  No. 
They  must  dance  untrammeled  ;  the  action  must  be  suited 
to  the  spirit,  the  spirit  to  the  action — perfect  lusus  natur- 
aes  !  What  luxury  of  motion,  what  looks — breathing  and 
sighs  !  what  oglings,  exclamations  and  enjoyment ! 

This  is  dancing.  It  knocks  the  spangles  ofi"  your  light 
fantastic  tripping,  and  sends  it  whirling  out  of  the  ball- 
room. 

Dancing  is  not  confined  to  the  negroes  alone,  the  plant- 
er's whole  household  is  entirely  given  up  to  merry-making 
during  the  holidays. 

The  dance  and  festival  is  first  held  at  one  planter's 
house,  and  then  at  another's;  two  or  three  often  assem- 
bling in  one  place,  where  they  have  what  is  termed  a 
*•'  storming." 

I  spent  the  holidays  at  the  Ridge  House.  We  had,  be- 
side our  own  family,  two  cousins  with  us,  and  several  of 
the  young  ladies  from  adjacent  plantations.  One  of  the 
cousins,  who  was  rather  conspicuous  in  merry-making, 
was  called  cousin  Jerry,  or,  more  commonly,  Jerry. 

His  form  was  in  a  very  slight  degree  inclined  to  the 
circumflex.     But  when  standing  erect,  he    was   consider- 


SOJOURN   IN    THE    SOUTH.  119 

ably  above  the  medmm  height.  He  had  light  brown  hah% 
and  eyes  of  a  dull,  dark,  hazy  color.  His  beard,  usually, 
at  the  latter  part  of  the  week,  showed  like  stubble-land  at 
harvest-home.  He  was  dressed  rather  plain,  and  was  not 
particular  about  his  collar  and  dicky,  if  they  did  not  re- 
tain the  whiteness  of  ''Juliet's  hand,"  he  would  wear 
them  after  they  were  a  little  soiled.  Jerry  had  one  of 
those  kind  of  minds  that  retain  its  originality,  despite  all 
the  pumice  and  polish  of  education  ;  nothing  seemed  to 
embellish  it.  He  had  been  at  an  academy — studied  hard, 
and  taught  school ;  yet  his  mind  was  unimbued  by  a  sin- 
gle thought  from  study  or  books.  He  had  nearly  finished 
the  forenoon  of  life  a — bachelor  ;  and  but  one  thing  hin- 
dered him  from  traveling  life's  dull  round  without  trouble  ; 
and  that  was — woman.  She  had  affected  his  heart  with  a 
spell  of  her  prettiness  and  love.  She  was  a  beautiful 
Will-o'-the-Wisp  that  was  ever  flitting  across  his  path, 
luring;  and  bewitchino;  him. 

Amid  the  revelry  of  the  evening  he  was  the  Don  Quixote. 
His  body  a  little  inclined  moved  down  the  graceful  sweeps 
and  giddy  mazes  of  the  dance,  without  animation ;  his 
arms  hung  dangling  at  his  side ;  the  only  motion  that  he 
made  was  a  slight  shuffling  of  his  feet  in  heavy  boots. 
His  partner  was  Miss  G.  ;  she  was  indeed  a  pretty  Will- 
o'-the-Wisp,  leading  him  a  dance.  Her  dark  flowing  curls, 
and  fine  sparkling  black  eyes  entranced  him.  But,  in  the 
circumlocution  of  its  sweeps,  he  would  often  lose  her. 
when  W.,  one  of  the  revelers,  would  step  in,  intercepting 
him,  and  finish  the  figure  with  her.  Then  again.  Miss 
Mattie,  or,  as  he  called  her — his  "  dangerous  little 
cousin" — would,  by  the  witchery  of  her  pranks,  get  him 
so  tangled  up  in  the  warp  and  woof  of  the  dance,  that  he, 
unable  to  extricate  himself,  would  dance  at  random,  to 
the  amusement  of  all*     At  another  time,  he,  undertaking 


120  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

to  go  through  one  of  the  whirling  evolutions  with  his  part- 
ner, threw  out  his  awkward  feet,  she  stumbled  over  them, 
and  fell  superbly  prostrate  on  the  floor ;  while  he  stood, 
astonished  and  sorroAvful,  looking  down  upon  her  with  a 
wondering  stare. 

During  the  evening  I  was  also  much  amused  with  young 
Dr.  Y.,  a  wealthy  planter's  son.  He  had  got  rather  merry 
with  the  dance  and  wine,  and  called  upon  the  old  negro, 
who  was  fiddling  for  the  party,  to  play  a  favorite  tune  of 
his,  for  that  dance.  And  after  it  had  been  played  for  him 
repeatedly,  he  called  for  it  again ;  throwing  down,  as  usual, 
a  half-dollar  at  his  feet. 

The  old  negro  replied,  "  Why  massa,  I  jus  done  play 
that  tune,  for  you,  five  or  six  time." 

"Play  away,  I  tell  you,"  cried  the  Dr.,  ''there's  your 
money,"  throwing  down  another  half-dollar.  This  he  re- 
peated so  often  that  we  began  to  wish  ourself  in  the  place 
of  the  old  negro,  fiddling  for  such  a  shower  of  silver. 

During  the  evening  some  of  the  young  folk  left,  to  at- 
tend a  wedding  among  the  negroes  at  the  quarters.  Jerry, 
rather  anxious,  of  course,  to  know  something  about  the 
nuptials,  asked  several  questions  concerning  the  wedding ; 
and  among  the  rest,  he  wished  to  know  "  whether  the 
course  of  '  niggers'  love'  didn't  run  any  smoother  than 
white  folks'  ?" 

This  was  a  pretext  to  rally  him;  which  Major  W.  began 
by  saying  that  he  had  observed  that  "  Jerry  was  fond  of 
lonely  w^alks  in  the  woods,  gathering  flowers  and  mistletoe 
boughs  for  the  ladies — repeating  poetry,  and  musing  on 
the  stars.  These,"  he  said,  "were  unfailing  signs  that  he 
was  sighing  for  some  lady-love." 

To  all  of  which,  Jerry,  who  had  a  droll  humor,    made 
many  a  shrewd  reply. 
^       But  when  the  Major  told  of  one  of  iiis  lady-love's  cheat- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  121 

ing  him — getting  married  in  his  absence ;  and  how  that 
Jerry,  not  knowing  this,  had,  on  his  return,  approached 
the  "nest,"  with  silent  and  wary  step,  to  secure  the  prize, 
but,  lo  !  on  grasping,  he  found  the  nest  warm,  but  the 
bird  had  floivn  !  to  this  Jerry  replied,  "  That  although 
he  sorrowed  much  over  the  loss  of  the  bird,  he  condoled 
much  more  over  her  fate,  being  caught — referring  to  her 
husband — in  the  "fowler's  snare." 

"And  more  than  this,"  said  he,  tauntingly,  "the  poor 
bird  will  soon  be  a  starveling;  for  the  old  man  didn't  give 
the  poor  drone  anything  with  her,  and  he  hasn't  industry 
enough  to  keep  a  chicken  alive." 

Jerry's  love  had  a  golden  element  in  it.     It 

"Was  no  flickering  flame  that  dies, 
Unless  when  fanned  by  looks  and  sighs, 
And  lighted  oft  by  ladies'  eyes  ; 
He  longed  to  stretch  his  wide  command 
O'ei'  heiress  Clara's  ample  land." 

The  hospitality  of  the  F  ge  House  was  extended  to 
many  a  guest  for  the  nignt.  Our  room  was  supplied  with 
couches  for  several.     We  had  Jerry  with  us. 

After  the  sound  of  revelry  had  ceased,  the  last  taper 
been  extinguished,  and  the  revelers  were  all  asleep,  or  in 
the  realms  of  dream  land,  the  loud  and  repeated  "halloo" 
was  heard  sounding  out  from  the  gate,  on  the  still  air  of 
night. 

A  servant  answered  it,  and  soon  ushered  in  young  ^Ir. 
H.,  a  neighboring  planter's  son,  who  came  with  news  that 
soon  aroused  the  whole  household. 

The  negroes,  in  the  east  part  of  the  county,  had  banded 
themselves,  in  a  fierce  and  furious  band,  against  the  whites, 
and  were  coming  into  our  neighborhood,  murdering  every 
family  in  their  approach. 


122  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

Major  W.  read  the  letter  the  young  man  brought,  con- 
taining the  awful  news,  then  calmly  told  his  family  and 
guests  that  they  might  get  out  their  guns  and  make  every 
necessary  preparation  for  defense.  But  they  would  please 
excuse  him,  as  he  had  been  up  late  and  needed  rest,  he 
would  retire  again.  But  he  would  thank  them  to  let  him 
know  wdien  they  came,  and  he  would  get  up — marshal  all 
his  forces  and  defend  his  "  Castle." 

At  this,  feeling  safe,  in  the  coolness  with  which  Major 
W.  treated  this  report,  we  all  retired  to  rest  again,  and 
soon  forgot  the  cause  of  our  alarm.  It  was  not  so  w^ith 
Jerry.  Visions  of  muskets,  boAvie-knives,  pitch-forks, 
scythes,  and  the  coming  of  the  vengeful  foe,  floated  before 
his  half-shut  eyes.  At  every  sound  he  heard,  the  remain- 
der of  the  night,  he  would  start  up,  grasp  the  Jew-peddler, 
with   whom   he  slept,  and  cry  out,   ''  There  !  the  niggers 


are  commg 


!" 


And  out  of  bed  he  w^ould  spring,  to  awaken  Major  "VY. 
But  some  one  would  call  him  back  and  quiet  his  fears. 
Others  would  tell  him  that  they  did  not  fear  the  niggers, 
as  long  as  he  was  about  the  house,  like  a  ghost,  in  his 
night  habiliments.     The  negroes  never  came. 

The  wedding,  above  mentioned,  took  place  at  the  plant- 
ation-house, on  New  Year's  eve.  Two  of  Major  W.'s 
slaves  were  there  united  in  marriage.  Many  of  the  }' oung 
folk,  and  very  many  of  the  blacks,  were  present  on  this 
occasion.  Everything  being  ready,  the  two  stepped  for- 
ward to  be  married.  The  blooming  bride,  showily  dressed, 
came  forward  in  all  her  sable  beauty,  with  eyes  of  spark- 
ling blackness,  and — 

"Mouth  with  pearl  and  ruby  glowing," 

and  gave  herself,  as  a  New  Year's  gift,  to  a  robust  negro. 


SOJOURX   IX   THE    SOUTH.  123 

The  twain  were  pronounced — ^.a  sable  unit,  by  a  minister 
residing  in  the  neighborhood. 

New  Year's  morning  we  had  for  the  accustomed — "  I 
wish  jou  a  happy  New  Year,"  that  which  I  had  been  used 
to  hear — the  Southern  one  of — "A  New  Years  gift.'' 
The  festival  went  on  during  the  day,  and  at  night  we  had 
a  "  storming." 

The  next  day,  I  was  witness  to  a  really  affecting  scene; 
one  that  remained  very  vividly  impressed  upon  my  mind. 
Major  W.  and  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  H.,  had  held,  for 
many  years,  their  slaves  in  conjunction ;  working  them 
on  the  same  plantation.  To-day,  Mr.  H.  was  to  take  his 
slaves  to  a  plantation  he  had  recently  purchased,  in  an- 
other part  of  the  State.  Major  W.,  his  lady  and  family, 
went  out,  as  the  negroes  stopped  at  the  gate,  to  bid  them 
good-bye.  They  shook  hands  with  them  one  by  one,  as 
they  passed  on,  and  cried  as  if  their  own  children,  broth- 
ers and  sisters,  were  leaving  home.  The  family,  negroes 
and  all,  were  in  tears.  But  poor  old  Eastern — uncle 
Easterx,  as  the  children  always  call  him — he  too  was  to 
go.  He  had  been  the  faithful  servant  in  the  W.  family 
for  many,  very  many  years.  But  he  had  built  their  fires 
for  the  last  time.  And  all  the  kind  acts  and  offices  he 
had  performed  for  the  family,  which  had  bound  him  to 
them  during  a  service  going  back  to  the  earliest  childhood 
of  the  oldest  of  the  household,  were  now  to  cease. 

This  faithful  old  EuMiEUS,  shook  hands  and  bade  his 
master  and  mistress,  and  all  the  children,  good-bye,  with 
eyes  suffused  with  tears,  and  voice  too  full  for  utterance. 
They  all  wept.  He  was  truly  the  fitting  one  to  close  so 
affecting  a  scene. 


124  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Inveni  portura.     Spes  et  fortuna,  valete. 

Sat  me  lusisti :  ludite  uunc  alios." 
"  My  port  is  gained,  farewell  to  the  freaks  of  chance, 
The  dance  they  led  me,  now  let  others  dance." 

Le  Sage. 

After  a  respite  of  the  holidays,  I  got  into  the  saddle 
once  more,  to  make  another  adventure.  My  route  was 
along  the  Yazoo  valley.  Major  W.,  and  Dr.  Y.'s  son, 
who  resided  there,  assured  me  that  I  could  get  a  good 
school  in  that  region. 

Two  incidents,  in  this  trip,  left  themselves  traced  upon 
my  mind.  At  the  foot  of  the  slope,  in  descending  from 
the  bluffs  into  the  valley,  at  Satartia,  during  the  rainy 
season,  there  is  a  slough  of  clay  mire — a  ''terrible  pass." 
Your  horse  literally  wades  and  plunges  through  it. 

As  I  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  I  saw  two  horsemen, 
down  beloAV  on  the  other  side  of  the  pass.  They  had 
brought  their  steeds  to  a  halt,  and  were  apparently  con- 
sidering whether  they  had  better -venture  through.  One 
was  the  Irish  teacher,  whom  I  have  noticed  a-back.  He 
seemed  to  be  "tellinoj  his  rosarv,"  ere  he  made  soformid- 
able  a  risk.  I  sat  on  my  horse  and  watched  their  prog- 
ress, till  their  horses  struggled  and  floundered  through. 

Next  came  my  trial.  I  never  rode  in  so  much  fear  in 
my  life.  My  horse's  feet  sunk  so  deep  in  the  mire,  and 
he  struggled  so  hard  to  extricate  them,  that  I  thought,  at 
times,  he  would  pull  his  legs  off,  in  endeavoring  to  pull 
them  out  of  it.  I  rejoiced  after  he  had  pitched  and 
floundered  through,  and  was  once  more  on  terra  fir  ma. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  125 

There  was  one  more  pass — crossing  the  Yazoo  in  a  fer- 
ry-boat. The  river  was  high,  and  the  wind  was  blowing 
at  a  furious  rate,  tumbling  its  waters  into  surging  swells. 
I  had  hallooed  a  long  time,  and  waited  for  the  negro  fer- 
ry-man to  come  and  row  me  across.  He  came  at  last.  I 
upbraided  him  for  his  delay.  He  replied,  "  'Twasn't  no 
reglar  ferry ;  he  needn't  come  less  he  was  a  mine  to. 
There  wasn't  travel  'nuf  to  make  it  pay.  His  massa  had 
wished  the  ole  boat  sunk,  many  time." 

I  told  him,  if  he  was  ferry-man  at  all,  he  should  be 
prompt,  and  not  keep  people  waiting  so  long.  A  man's 
friend  might  be  dying,  while  he  was  waiting  his  slow 
motion. 

"  He  couldn't  help  it ;  his  friend  would  have  to  wait, 
sar ;  'twas  all  mere  'commodationinhim,  he  needn't  come 
less  he  Avas  a  mine  to." 

I  told  him  to  stop  his  blarney  or  I  would  throw  him 
into  the  river  as  food  for  the  alligators. 

Our  next  trouble  was  to  get  the  horse  on  board.  The 
negro  took  hold  of  the  bridle  and  tried  to  pull  him  on  the 
boat,  and  the  horse  endeavored  to  pull  the  negro  off; 
while  I  was  on  shore,  making  sundry  evolutions  and  ap- 
plications, about  the  horse's  haunches,  in  favor  of  the 
negro's  getting  him  aboard.  We  finally  gained  the  day 
and  got  him  loaded.  The  negro  then  pushed  off  from  the 
shore  and  commenced  rowinjx,  I  standino;  in  the  middle  of 
the  boat,  holding  my  horse  by  the  bridle.  The  current 
was  strong,  and  despite  the  lusty  arms  of  the  oarsman, 
who  plied  with  all  his  might,  the  boat  was  a  mere  play- 
thing, and  we  elfin  folk  upon  it,  tossed  about  by  the  wild 
pranks  of  the  wave.  We  were  going  down  stream  very 
fast,  but  I  saw  we  were  nearing  the  shore,  which  we  finally 
reached  after  a  long  struggle. 


126  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

I  led  my  horse  up  the  bank — paid  the  negro  his  two 
bits,  which  he  thrice  and  four  times  earned — got  into  the 
saddle  and  rode  off,  looking  back  at  the  ferry-man  strug- 
gling with  the  current's  fury  in  re-crossing. 

After  riding  along  on  the  banks  of  the  river  half  a  mile, 
I  came  to  Mr.  G.'s  plantation.  He  is  very  wealthy  ;  the 
broad  and  beautiful  valley  here,  is  owned  on  both  sides 
of  the  stream,  for  some  distance,  by  this  gentleman  and 
his  sons.  Here  I  saw  the  first  steam  saw-mill,  and  the 
first  cotton-gin,  driven  by  steam. 

Major  AY.  had  referred  me  to  his  friend  Mr.  W.,  with 
whom  he  advised  me,  as  I  could  not  reach  my  point  of 
destination  by  dark,  to  stay  all  night. 

A  solitary  horseman,  wending  his  way  along  on  the 
banks  of  the  gentle  Yazoo,  might  have  been  heard,  on  a 
pleasant  day  in  December,  hallooing  at  the  gate  of  a 
Southern  planter's  residence,  as  Dax  Phcebus  drew  up 
the  reins  of  his  steeds  and  halted  at  the  evening  station. 

A  smallish  sized  gentleman,  in  answer  to  his  halloo, 
came  to  the  gate — invited  him  to  "get  down  from  his 
horse  and  walk  in." 

His  house  was  on  the  river's  brim.  It  was  one  of  the 
smaller  log  plantation-houses.  I  thought  of  Pope's  cot- 
tage when  I  saw^  it  and  its  owner. 

"A  little  cot  with  trees  a'row, 
And  like  its  master,  very  low." 

I  alighted — my  horse  was  taken  care  of — and  walked 
into  a  room,  in  one  corner  of  which  was  a  large  old  Eng- 
lish bedstead ;  a  wash-stand  with  its  bowl  stood  in  another. 
These,  with  a  few  chairs,  constituted  its  principal  furniture. 
But  a  good  warm  fire,  blazing  in  a  broad,  old-fashioned 
fire-place,  gave  an  air  of  comfort  and  cheerfulness  to  the 
room. 


SOJOURN    IX   THE    SOUTH.  127 

I  have,  in  traveling  here,  gone  back,  not  in  fancy,  half 
a  century,  and  really  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  occasionally 
dropping  into  the  old-fashioned  homes,  and  taking  a  seat 
by  the  social,  enlivening  fire-side  of  the  "  Old  Folks  at 
Home,"  fifty  years  ago,  ere  the  dull  and  cheerless  stove 
•was  thought  of,  spend  an  evening  in  delightful  conversa- 
tion around  the  "old  hearth-stone" — the  sparkling  ingle, 
rendered  sacred  by  the  memory  of  those  who  "have  long 
gone  before." 

We  found  Mr.  W.  an  intelligent  gentleman.  "We  dis- 
cussed the  politics  of  the  day,  and  talked  about  some  of 
the  leading  politicians  North.  I  really  think  a  Southern 
gentleman  is  endowed  with  those  qualities  that  are  requi- 
site in  entertaining  a  guest.  The  North  has  not  got  the 
time,  or  she  does  not  take  it,  that  is  requisite  in  bestowing 
upon  one  all  those  kind  acts,  and  variety  of  attention,  that 
true  hospitality  is  so  fond  of  giving. 

Mr.  W.  is  from  Tennessee.  He  has  three  hundred  acres 
of  cultivated  valley-land,  and  some  twenty-five  or  thirty 
slaves.  His  crop  of  cotton  this  year,  which  was  a  good 
one,  brought  him  sixty  dollars  per  bale.  This  is  like 
Northern  farmers  getting  fourteen  shillings  or  two  dollars 
per  bushel  for  their  wheat. 

At  table  I  met  Mrs.  AY.,  an  amiable  and  pretty  lady, 
and  a  Miss  A.,  the  first  native  teacher  I  had  met  in  Mis- 
sissippi.    She  is  governess  in  Mr.  "\Y.'s  family. 

After  supper,  Mr.  W.  and  I  retired  to  our  room  and 
continued  our  chat  till  long  past  "  curfew  time."  The 
ladies  kept  in  their  room.  It  is  not  really  "caste,"  but 
the  feminine  ingredient  here,  does  not  remain  so  long,  or 
unite  so  often,  as  an  article  of  the  household  compound, 
as  with  us  at  the  North. 

On  retiring  to  rest,  I  found  the  usual  bed,  broad  enough 


128  JOTTIXGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

to  ''sleep"  John  Rodgers  in,  with  his  whole  family  and 
the  little  one  at  the  breast. 

Here  one  can  easily  follow  Dr.  Franklin's  healthy 
advice,  in  having  a  "spare  bed"  for  the  last  half  of  the 
night.  All  that  you  have  to  do,  after  sleeping  the  hygienic 
time  in  one  part  of  it,  is,  to  take  a  couple  of  turns,  and 
you  are  in  the  "  spare  bed." 

Here  I  fall  asleep  listening  to  the  murmurs  of  the 
gentle  Yazoo,  while  steamboats,  illuminated  as  on  some 
festive  trip,  are  passing  up,  or  dropping  down  the  current. 

The  next  morning  I  continued  my  route  along  on  the 
banks  of  the  Yazoo.  About  half  a  mile  from  Mr.  W.'s  I 
came  to  a  turn  in  the  road,  and  doubted  whether  to  take 
it,  or  continue  on  in  the  straight  road.  I  remember  that 
a  little  negro,  a  few  days  ago,  while  I,  at  an  angle  in  the 
road,  far  away  in  the  woods,  Avas  j)ondering  which  of  two 
directions  to  take,  met  me,  somewhat  in  the  manner,  I 
thought,  that  old  Tiff's  dinner  did  him,  and  who  saved 
me  from  going  some  twenty  miles  out  of  my  way.  I  felt 
very  grateful  to  the  little  fellow  and  thanked  him  very 
much  for  his  timely  hint.  Here  a  black  milk-maid  came 
up,  with  a  pail  in  her  hand,  as  I  was  about  to  take  the 
turn,  and  cried  out,  at  a  little  distance,  on  the  run — ''No, 
no,  sir,  you  mus  not  take  that  road ;  you  never  reach 
Yazoo  city  by  taking  that  road  ;  that  will  take  you  off  into 
the  swamp." 

In  some  two  miles  I  came  to  Mr.  W.'s  younger  brother's 
plantation.  He  has  a  neat,  little  unadorned  cottage,  with 
some  pretty  shade-trees  around  it.  I  afterwards  became 
acquainted  with  these  two  brothers,  and  their  families,  and 
have  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour  in  their  society.  "  There 
are  those  among  our  friends  whom  we'd  ever  remember  as 
kith  and  kin" — these  are  of  them. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  129 

Young  Dr.  W.'s  plantation  was  next  on  this  road.  He 
also  is  a  Tennesseean ;  in  whicli  State  he  spends  his  sum- 
mers— his  winters  in  the  Yazoo  valley.  We  afterwards 
became  acquainted  with  him,  and  found  him  one  of  the 
most  sterling  yoimg  men  we  had  met  in  the  South.  He  is 
in  possession  of  a  fine  fortune.  He  has  lately  erected  a 
pretty  cottage  on  some  picturesque  locality  of  his  planta- 
tion, and  invited  one  of  Tennessee's  fair  dauorhters  to  be- 
come  mistress  of  it?.     They  tell  me — 

"  She  is  bonnie ;  all  the  Highlands  round 
Was  there  a  rival  to  my  Jexxie  found?" 

This  poetic  allusion  is  merely  the  sentiment  of  a  South- 
ern friend's  letter,  lately  informing  me  of  Dr.  Y.'s  pos- 
sessing a  "bonnie  bride"  with  the  command  of  a  "pretty 
cottage." 

I  soon  came  to  Mr.  B.'s,  one  of  the  gentlemen  to  whom 
I  had  been  referred,  who  wished  a  teacher.  I  stopped 
and  took  dinner  here  ;  mentioned  my  errand.  I  was  op- 
portune ;  and  from  the  manner  of  the  gentleman  I  knew 
that  I  was  dealing  with  one  in  whom  I  could  repose  confi- 
.dence  and  trust. 

After  dinner  Mr.  B.  mounted  his  horse,  and  we  rode  a 
mile  and  a  half  to  his  neighbor,  Mr.  P.'s,  plantation.  This 
planter,  also  wishing  a  teacher,  ordered  his  horse,  and  we 
three  rode  still  another  mile,  to  Dr.  Y.'s  residence,  where  in 
a  very  short  time,  these  three  wealthy  planters  secured  my 
services  as  teacher,  giving  me  a  salary  of  five  hundred  dol- 
lars per  year,  and  a  home,  besides  allowing  me  all  I  could 
make  out  of  extra  scholars.  Thus  closed  my  adventures 
in  pursuit  of  a  school  in  this  Southern  land. 

After  two  months'  search  I  had  found  the  prize.  Dis- 
appointment had  lurked  in  every  one  but  the  last,  and,  in 

that  I  found  a  three-fold  reward. 

I 


130  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

The   next   day   I  returned  to  the  Ridge  House.     The 

following  morning  Mrs.  W.  came  into  my  room,  and  asked 

me   if  I  did  not  wish  to  take  a  "drive"  with  the  young 

ladies.     They  were  going  to  make  some    "calls."     The 

carriage  was  brought  out,  and,  in 

"The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn," 

we  enjoyed  a  fine  ride  through  the  beautiful  woods,  and 
along  the  pleasant  valley  to  Mr.  J.'s  plantation.  He  is 
cousin  to  Colonel  Richard  M.  Johnson  ;  has  a  fine  estate 
in  Tennessee,  where  he  spends  his  summers  with  his  family, 
and  his  winters  in  this  beautiful  vale.  Young  Mr.  W.  C. 
H.,  who  was  here,  uncle  to  Miss  Mattie  W.,  one  of  our 
party,  introduced  me  to  Mrs.  J.,  and  her  daughter,  as  Mr. 
Buchanan.  Being  about  to  correct  his  mistake,  we  told 
him  it  was  just  as  well,  passing  nom  de  plume  now-a- 
days  was  fashionable,  it  might  bring  us  into  celebrity. 

Mrs.  J.  is  a  graduate  of  the  famous  Troy  school,  New 
York.  We  had  a  chat  with  her  daughter,  a  very  pretty 
young  lady  of  cultivated  manners.  She  has  a  brother  in 
the  Virginia  University.  She  played  on  the  piano  and 
sang  a  love-ditty  for  us  very  prettily. 

We  had  a  chat  afterwards  on  the  mosses.  Nature,  we 
thought,  had  done  some  strange  things  in  her  time,  and 
among  them,  was  the  freak  of  hanging  the  mosses  on  the 
tops  of  the  trees. 

But,  some  one  replied,  it  was  a  pretty  freak. 

Yes,  nature,  like  the  beautiful  Ophelia,  wandering  in  a 
mournful  mood,  about  the  woods,  and  along  the  streams,  had 
hung  her  "  fantastic  garlands,"  and  "  coronets"  of  mosses, 
on  the  tops  and  "  pendent  boughs"  of  the  trees. 

Or  was  it  in  this  region  that  Proserpine  was  gathering 
flowers,  when  Pluto — the  old  gallant — stole  her?  and 
that  Flora,  grieving  her  loss,  had  draped  these  woods  in 
this  streaming  moss,  as  a  badge  of  mourning  for  her. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  131 

What  pleasant  memories  one  has  of  visiting  pleasant 
persons  and  places.  The  memory  of  that  call,  to-day, 
as  we  are  transferring  it  from  our  journal  to  these  pages, 
has  all  the  freshness  of  the  beezy  morning  in  it ; — 
we  hear  the  sound  of  the  voices  of  those  Southern  ladies, 
in  that  chat,  the  tones  of  the  piano,  responsive  to  the 
touch  of  Miss  J.'s  fingers,  and  the  singing  of  that  love- 
ditty,  now  as  then,  just  as  soft  and  musically. 

But  it  was  not  so  then,  and  we  presume  it  is  not  so  now, 
with  our  young  ladies.     INIemory  does  not —         • 

"  Restore  every  rose  or  secrete  its  thorn." 

If  she  does,  there  is  a  rose-leaf  that  lies  "doubled  up" 
under  the  little  Sybarite ;  for  in  their  conversation,  on 
our  return,  which  was  in  half  whisper,  I  heard  them  say, 
with    countenances    sorrowful   as  Niobe's   weeping   her 

children — that  they "did  not  enjoy  their  call 

a  hit ;'' — they  had  made  one — "a  little  too  long!'' 

Oh,  the  exquisite  Sybarites — ^lovely  Peries,  shut  out  of 
paradise  because  one  of  their  morning  "  calls  was  made — 
five  minutes  too  long. 

Before  going  to  my  school  in  the  valley,  I  received  the 
following  note,  while  at  Major  W.'s : 


Oak  Ridge,  Jan.  9th,  1858. 

Mr.  A.  D.  P.  Yan  Buren, 

Dear  Sir  : — I  have  the  pleasure  to  inform  you  of  your 
election  to  teach  the  school  at  Milldale,  during  the  present 
year,  if  found  competent,  and  I  am  appointed  by  the 
Board  to  certify  to  that  fact.  At  your  earliest  conven- 
ience I  will  confer  with  you  for  that  purpose. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Jas.  T.  Hicks. 


132  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

It  was  gratifying  to  me  to  receive  this  letter,  although 
it  came  too  late  to  secure  my  services  as  teacher ;  yet 
after  the  efforts  I  had  made — for  fast  and  far  had  I  ridden, 
to  secure  the  school,  and  had  even  entered  the  list  with 
two  other  champions,  in  a  contest  for  it — it  was  the  victor's 
wreath,  although  I  did  not  wish  the  prize  I  had  won. 

I  also  heard  a  few  days  later,  that  the  Mechanicsburgh 
school  had  closed.  This  was  the  school  I  first  had  in 
view ;  but  although  the  news  that  I  could  have  it  now, 
came  lik^  Chesteefield's  letter  to  Dr.  Johnson,  too  late 
to  be  useful,  yet  it  brought  to  me  this  incentive — courage 
for  the  trying  scenes  in  the  future. 

In  a  few  days  I  left  my  home  at  the  Ridge  House  for 
one  in  the  valley. 

I  had  sojourned  in  Major  W.'s  family  over  two  months, 
and  had,  during  that  time,  not  only  received  the  kindest 
hospitality  from  him  and  his  family,  but  had  had  a  ser- 
vant to  wait  on  me,  and  a  horse  and  saddle  at  my  com- 
mand. And  when  I  asked  him  what  I  had  to  pay  for  all 
this,  he  replied — ''Not  one  cent,  sir." 

The  manner  in  which  he  said  it,  evinced  the  truest 
generosity  that  it  was  ever  my  lot  to  receive.  And  as  I 
bid  them  good-bye,  and  mounted  my  horse  to  leave  this 
pleasant  home,  where  I  had  spent  so  many  pleasant  days, 
and  experienced  so  much  kindness,  it  occurred  to  me  that 
the  memory  of  many,  very  many  other  treasured  things 
in  this  life,  would  grow  old,  fade  away,  and  be  lost,  long, 
long,  ere  I  should  forget  the  Wildies. 

"The  bridegroom  may  forget  the  bride, 

Was  made  his  wedded  wife,  yestreen ; 
The  monarch  may  forget  the  crown. 

That  on  his  head  an  hour  has  been  ; 
The  mother  may  forget  the  child. 

That  smiled  so  sweetly  on  her  knee  ; 
But  I'll  vemember  thee,  Glencairn, 

And  a'  that  thou  hast  done  for  me." 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  133 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

''Pretty  rural  homes  they  were, 
Down  in  a  dale,  hard  by  a  river's-side, 
Near  to  resort  of  people  that  did  pass 
In  travel  to  and  fro."  Spenser, 


OAK    VALLEY. 

Mr.  B.  is  a  Tennesseean — an  intellectual,  reading,  ener- 
getic, reliable  man.  He  is  a  true  Southern  gentleman ; 
urbane,  chivalrous,  and  dresses  with  taste.  Were  I  to 
draw  a  portrait  of  a  real  Southron,  I  should  ask  him  to 
sit  for  it.  He  is  of  a  fine  family ;  has  himself  been  elected 
to  a  seat  in  the  Mississippi  Legislature  ;  was  a  delegate  to 
the  Cincinnati  Convention  and  helped  nominate  Mr. 
Buchanan.  One  of  his  brothers  is  the  editor  of  the 
*'  Mississippian,"  the  first  paper  in  the  State  ;  and  another 
is  a  member  of  the  Lower  House  of  Congress. 

He  has  a  fine  plantation  of  four  hundred  acres  of 
arable  valley-land,  worked  by  forty  or  fifty  slaves.  His 
negro  quarters  are  a  little  village  amid  sheltering  trees. 

His  residence  is  a  neat  and  tasty  edifice,  embowered  in 
a  profusion  of  shade. 

In  the  front  ground,  you  see  several  magnificent  China- 
trees,  with  their  umbrageous  tops  all  a-bloom  with  lilac 
blossoms. 

The  orange  myrtle,  with  its  glossy  green  foliage,  trim- 
med in  the  shape  of  a  huge  strawberry ;  the  crape  myrtle 
with  its  top  hanging  thick  with  long  cone-shaped  flowers  of 
a  peach-blow  color ;  the  cape  jasmine,  with  its  rich  pol- 
ished foliage  spangled  all  over  with  white  starry  blossoms  ; 


134  JOTTIXGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

the  laurea  mundi — that  emblem  of  the  peach-tree  in  ever- 
green ;  and  that  richest  and  sweetest  blossomed  of  trop- 
ical shrubs — the  japonica — that  never  blossoms  only  in 
the  winter. 

Besides  these,  there  are  rows  of  cedar  trees,  the  trimmed 
arbor  vit?es,  and  other  perennial  shrubs,  in  clumps  about 
the  grounds,  with  the  holly  and  that  pride  of  Flora's — 
the  rich  glossy-leafed,  and  snowy-blossomed  magnolia. 

Adjoining  the  front  grounds  is  a  garden,  abounding  in 
every  variety  of  esculent  vegetables,  choice  fruit-trees, 
and  luscious  grapes.  It  is  also  radiant  with  flowers  and 
roses.    How  appropriate  here  the  following  beautiful  lines 

of  YlRGIL. 

" 'et  ubi  mollis  amaracus  ilium 


Floribus  et  dulci  adspirans  complectitur  umbra,"* 

Opposite  the  residence  across  the  river  the  banks  are 
crowned  with  over-hanging  trees,  presenting  to  view — a 
most  richly  picturesque,  foliage  scenery. 

The  house  is  expensively  furnished  inside. 

Mrs.  B.  is  a  very  amiable  lady.  They  have  an  inter- 
'esting  family  of  children,  whom  they  intend  shall  have  the 
benefit  of  a  fine  education. 

My  home,  for  the  last  six  weeks  of  my  sojourn  on  the 
banks  of  the  Yazoo,  was  in  this  delightful  abode  at  Oak 
Valley. 

WILLOW   DALE. 

Mr.  P.,  another  of  the  patrons  of  our  little  academy,  is 
a  North  Carolinian.  He  is  an  intelligent,  worthy  planter 
of  convenient  politics.     He  has  read  many  a  quaint  and 

*"  And  where  the  soft  mojorum,  breathing  upon,  embraces  you  with 
its  flowers  and  shades. " 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  135 

rare  old  volume  ;  and  is  a  very  good  naturalist — the  best 
I  have  met  anywhere  in  this  region.  To  him,  and  his 
young  and  accomplished  lady,  I  am  indebted  for  much  of 
the  enjoyment  of  my  life  South.  At  their  noble  man- 
sion, in  Willow  Dale,  I  became  acquainted  with  many  fine 
Southern  gentlemen  and  ladies. 

His  very  large,  fine  residence  is  half  hid  in  the  luxuri- 
ant shade  of  many  beautiful  and  rare  trees.  There  is  the 
umbrageous  China-tree,  in  all  its  rich,  feathery  foliage ; 
the  deep-green,  and  the  dingy,  broad-leafed  mulberry  ;  the 
Lombardy  poplar,  with  its  top  shooting  up  in  tall,  nodding 
plumes  ;  the  aspen,  with  its  leaden-hued  leaves  lined  with 
silver  ;  the  box-elder,  the  golden  willow,  the  lovely  althea, 
the  sensitive  mimosa,  and  all  the  evergreen  trees,  shrubs 
and  vines,  with  a  wild  profusion  of  flowers  and  roses. 

The  honeysuckle  clambers  over  a  lattice-work  well-house 
to  the  left  of  the  residence,  while  in  front,  on  each  side  of 
the  gate  within  the  palings,  is  a  trellis-frame ;  the  wood 
bine  has  climbed  over  and  hung  thick  with  festoons  the 
one,  and  the  white  jasmine  the  other.  Then,  there 
stands  on  the  open  lawn  before  the  house,  the  beautiful 
Spanish  and  willow  oak,  with  the  noble  elm,  and  many  a 
lofty  pecan,  in  all  their  forest  grandeur. 

The  grounds  about  the  house,  besides  being  thus  orna- 
mented with  trees,  shrubs  and  floAvers,  and  finely  laid  out 
with  walks,  are  always  kept  in  neat  order — the  grass  is 
mown  down  when  it  gets  too  high,  and  the  walks  are 
cleanly  swept. 

ROUGH   AND   READY. 

Dr.  Y.,  (since  .dead,)  the  other  patron,  was  a  taciturn 
gentleman,  a  man  of  intelligence,  but  of  stern  bearing. 
He  would  have  made  a  brave  officer — one  of  your  men 


136  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

that  would  have  faced  the  assailants,  or  led   a    "forlorn 
hope"  at  Stony  Point. 

He  had  dark  hair,  dark  eyes,  and  rather  dark  complex- 
ion. He  was  a  Virginian  by  birth — had  formerly  prac- 
tised in  his  profession,  but  had  grown  rich  as  a  planter, 
and  lived  at  his  ease.  His  estate  consists  of  two  valuable 
plantations,  one  each  side  of  the  Yazoo ;  they  are  nearly 
opposite  each  other.  Two  overseers,  with  forty  or  fifty 
slaves  each,  work  them. 

His  residence  is  just  such  an  one  as  such  a  man  would 
choose — plebian,  like  himself.  It  is  a  pleasant-porched, 
log  building,  and  appropriately  named,  "  Rough  and 
Ready."  One  would  imagine  such  an  abode,  the  home  of 
the  hero  of  Buena  Vista.  It  is  a  rude  gem  in  a  setting  of 
China-trees,  "chased"  over,  in  front,  with  honeysuckle 
and  woodbine. 

The  house,  though  of  logs,  has  a  drawing-room  richly 
furnished.  His  daughter,  an  accomplished  and  beautiful 
lady,  has  a  choice  library  in  it,  of  many  a  rich  and  rare 
volume. 

The  first  evening  I  passed  in  the  valley,  was  at  a  party 
given  at  "Rough  and  Ready." 

Here  I  met  some  of  the  chivalry  and  beauty  of  the 
South,  its 

"Belted  knight  and  lady  fair." 

Dr.  Y.'s  daughter  was  truly  the  Die  Verxon  of  the 
evening  ;  although  more  accustomed  to  refined  society  and 
the  elegancies  of  life.  Yet  she  resembled,  in  her  beauty 
and  carriage,  the  "heath  bell  of  Chiveot." 

Her  party  was  composed  of  young  ladies  and  gentlemen ; 
some  from  Yazoo  City,  and  some  were  wealthy  planters' 
sons  and  daughters. 

A  Miss  W.,  ^riend  and  relation  of  Dr.  Y.,  was  one  of 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  137 

the  number.  She  was,  I  should  think,  one  of  the  fairest 
of  Southern  ladies ;  of  rather  a  voluptuous  form,  refined 
manners,  and  moved  admirably.  I  had  almost  called  her 
a  fresh,  rosy  blonde. 

"  Her  cheeks  were  like  the  Jersey  peach, 

Her  eyes  were  blue  and  clear  ; 
Her  lips  were  like  the  sumac, 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year." 

She  was  a  graduate  of  the  celebrated  Troy  School,  New 
York.  There  was  something  in  her  manner — it  was  not 
hauteur,  but  something  that  education  from  abroad,  and 
the  elegancies  of  Southern  life  give.  And  there  was 
something  in  her  accent,  when  talking,  not — a  belle  lisping, 
but  something  that  assured  you  that  she  would  have  been 
a  proud  rival  to  Ida  May — a  Southern  "Mabelle." 

Reader,  did  you  ever  think  that  all  eloquence  was  not 
forensic — only  heard  from  the  rostrum  and  the  hustings; 
that  there  was  eloquence  and  music  in  the  human  voice, 
when  talking  ? 

That  sweet  songstress  of  the  South — Amelia — might 
have  included  the  pleasures  of  conversation,  in  the  follow- 
incr  beautiful  lines  of  hers  : 


'O 


"  There's  a  charm  in  delivery — a  magical  art. 
That  goes  like  a  kiss  from  the  lips  to  the  heart." 

In  this  pleasant  land,  where  conversation  is  so  much  a 
source  of  enjoyment,  there  are  many  charming  talkers. 
Miss  W.  was  one.  In  our  evening  chit-chat,  as  she  lisped 
the  words  with  a  fine  accent,  they  became  a  tissue  of  gems. 
She  would  repeat  Poe's  Raven  with  the  efi'ect  of  a  Fanny 
Kemble,  or  a  Siddons. 

During  the  evening  she  played  on  the  guitar  and  sung 
for  us, 


138  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"Woodman,  spare  that  tree." 

Had  the  rude  forester,  though  a  Vandal,  with  his  axe 
raised  to  cut  it  down,  caught  her  tones,  he  would  have 
desisted,  and  spared  the  tree — subdued  by  the  touching 
effect  and  "  concord  of  sweet  sounds."  Our  party,  the  first 
part  of  the  evening,  was  in  little  groups,  each  having  a 
theme  of  its  own. 

We  remember  ourself  to  have  been  seated  by  the  side 
of  a  very  pretty  and  attractive  young  lady,  of  elegant 
manners,  a  fine  conversationalist,  and  whom  we  had  noticed 
to  have  received  the  attention  and  admiration  of  all ;  so 
much  so,  that  we  considered  her  the  ^' Jessamy  Bride"  of 
the  party. 

We  had  studied  the  countenance  of  a  younger  sister  of 
hers,  at  intervals,  who  was  seated  a  little  way  from  us, 
chatting  with  a  young  lawyer  from  Yazoo  City ;  and  it 
paid  us  well  for  the  perusal. 

I  could  see,  in  the  young  gentleman,  that  Southern 
politeness  and  gallantry  to  the  ladies,  that  is  so  much  a 
part  of  chivalry.  Their  language  to  them  was  correct ; 
there  was  a  reserve  in  their  bearing  towards  them,  and 
they  looked  upon  them  with  more  admiration  than  a 
Northerner  is  accustomed  to  see  given  to  the  fair. 

Then  the  theme  of  discourse  was  much  about  ladies — 
their  beauty ;  gentlemen — their  chivalry,  and  such  like 
topics.  Finally,  one  would  notice  much  devotedness,  on 
the  part  of  the  gentlemen,  to  the  fair  of  the  South ;  and 
that  the  ladies  received  it  with  a  politeness  and  naivete, 
as  if  it  were  an  homage  due  them. 

The  latter  were  dressed  splendidly — some  of  them  wear- 
ing much  jewelry. 

The  supper  should  have  been  noticed  in  its  proper  place. 
To  tell  the  truth,  .v^e  scarcely  know  how  to  notice  it  at  all ; 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  139 

for  our  English,  and  a  smattering  of  French,  was  run 
ashore  by  some  of  the  dishes.  It  came,  though,  about  the 
middle  of  the  evening.  A  large  cake,  frosted  and  decked 
with  various-colored  leaves,  shot  up  in  the  center  of  the 
table,  amid  the  other  luxuries,  like  a  round-tower. 

The  different  coui'ses  commenced  with  oysters.  Fresh 
strawberries,  oranges,  and  other  rare  fruits,  and  choice 
wines,  were  on  the  table. 

After  supper  we  retired  to  thd  drawing-room,  where 
some  spent  the  remainder  of  the  evening  playing  whist, 
others  chatting.  But  they  were,  at  intervals,  diverted 
from  their  amusements  by  a  neatly  dressed  female  servant, 
wearing  a  fine  turban  on  her  head — the  servants  in  all 
planters'  families  wear  these  tui'bans  of  different  colors, 
which  make  them  look  like  Oriental  domestics — who  passed 
around  among  them  wine,  cake  and  fruit,  on  a  server. 

Late  in  the  evening  our  dormitory  was  shown  us  by  a 
negress.  It  was  a  small  log  structure,  a  few  rods  from 
the  main  residence  ;  a  servant  also  came  in  and  took  our 
boots,  which  we  found  in  the  morning  as  glossy  as  mag- 
nolia leaves. 

The  next  day,  in  speaking  about  the  party,  some  one 
of  our  friends  rallied  us  about  having  such  an  interesting 
tete-a-tete  with  a  rich  young  widow  last  night. 

We,  of  course,  were  ignorant  of  the  railery,  and  de- 
manded an  explanation.  Our  friend  informed  us  that  the 
young  lady  that  we  had  been  so  interested  in  chatting 
with,  last  evening,  was  the  young,  attractive,  and  richly- 
possessed  Mrs.  M. 

Most  certainly  we  were  not  aware  that  we  had  been 
conversing  with  a  lady  dowered  with  such  a  Potosi  of 
wealth. 

Her  plantation  is  adjoining  Dr.  Y.'s.  Their  residences 
are  strikingly  in  contrast. 


140  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

One,  plebian  and  the  other  patrician.  The  one  rustic, 
the  other,  suburban.  The  latter  edifice  is  not  costly,  but 
a  modest  little  cottage,  nestled  amid  trees  on  a  delightful 
parterre  of  greensward,  tastefully  meandered  with  fine 
bordered  walks,  and  studded  with  clumps  of  shrubbery, 
''like  flowers  wrought  elegantly  on  tapestry." 

Near  the  residence  is  a  natural  mound,  some  twenty 
feet  in  diameter  at  the  base,  which  lessens  as  it  rises  to 
the  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  at  which  point  the  top  is 
cut  off,  and  on  it  has  been  reared  a  picturesque  little  lattice- 
work summer-house.  This  lovely  abode  reminds  one  of  a 
petit  "Iranistan." 

*'  Low  was  our  pretty  cot ;  our  tallest  rose 
Peeped  at  the  chamber-window.     We  could  hear, 
At  silent  noon,  and  eve,  and  early  morn, 
The  Yazoo's  faint  murmur.     In  the  open  air 
Our  myrtles  blossomed  ;  and  across  the  porch 
Thick  jasmins  twined  ;  the  little  landscape  round 
Was  green  and  woody,  and  refreshed  the  eye." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Habits  and  manners  change,  as  people  do,  with  climes, 
*'  Tenets  with  books,  and  principles  with  times." 

Pope  &  I. 

Dr.  Johnson  once  asked  Goldsmith  if  he  could  love  a 
friend  where  he  disagreed  with  him  on  any  subject,  as  well 
as  if  he  did  not. 

Goldsmith  thought  he  could  not.     The  Dr.  said  he  could. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  141 

Taking  the  last  view  of  the  subject,  one  can  easily  waive 
the  political  discrepancy  between  the  North  and  South, 
and  have  nothing  to  mar  true  friendship  between  them. 
This  makes  it  far  pleasanter  for  those  who  are  sojom-ning 
here  from  the  North. 

So  much  had  been  said  about  a  Northerner  s  comino* 
South,  to  me,  last  fall,  that  the  Southrons  looked  upon 
them  all  with  suspicion;  that  one  must  "overhaul"  his 
politics,  and  leave  at  home  all  that  was  not  convenient ; 
and  then,  unless  he  could  give  the  true  Democratic  "  shib- 
oleth,"  there  was  danger  in  crossing  "Mason  and  Dixon's 
line;"  that  I  felt,  on  coming  here,  like  a  Themistocles 
throwing  myself  upon  the  clemency  of  the  people. 

But  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  I  found  that  the  South 
that  one  reads  and  hears  of,  is  altogether  different  from 
the  one  that  one  sees  and  becomes  acquainted  with. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  never  met  his  friend  Irving,  at  his 
gate,  with  a  more  friendly — "Ye  are  welcome,"  than  I 
have  received  wherever  I  have  been  in  this  "sunny  land." 

And  I  have  sat  by  the  planter's  fire-side,  and  conversed 
with  him  on  that  hateful  subject,  which  those  "boys"  in 
Congress  have  quarreled  about  and  fought  over  so  long — 
talked  about  the  Union — the  North  and  the  South — chil- 
dren of  the  same  parents — the 

"  Twa  that  hae  paidl't  i'  the  burn 
Frae  morning  sun  till  dine," 

till  they  fell  out  on  the  slavery  question ;  and  but  one 
Southron  yet  has  asked  me  my  politics. 

But  then  it  might  not  have  been  so  a  year  ago,  before 
the  Presidential  election. 

A  few  evenings  since,  in  conversation  with  some  one  at 
Willow  Dale,  we  took  up  the  subject  of  "Bleeding  Kansas" 
— that  has  "bled"  as  that    "old  Democratic  war  Chief" 


142  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

of  the  North,  Daniel  S.  Dickinson,  says,  "  till  there  is 
no  more  blood  in  her  than  there  is  in  a  white  turnip." 

The  point  in  dispute  was  whether  she  ought  to  come  into 
the  Union  as  a  Free  State  or  not.  After  having  discussed 
the  subject  at  some  length,  some  one  proposed  that  we  should 
decide  it,  by  playing  a  game  of  chess  ;  and,  as  the  North 
was  the  "  Lady-love"  whose  gage  I  professed  to  wear,  that 
I  should  represent  her. 

I  told  them  to  select  a  champion  from  their  side,  and 
we  would  come  to  "a  passage  at  arms,"  and  decide  this 
important  question. 

To  my  surprise  a  young  lady  stepped  forward,  to  repre- 
sent the  chivalry  of  the  South.  This  was  something  really 
of  the 

*'Days  of  belted  knight  and  Lady  fair." 

But  where  did  a  knight  ever  in 

*'  The  fair  fields  of  old  romance, 
Essay  to  break  with  a  lady  a  lance." 

The  whole  game  was  watched  with  much  interest  by 
the  party  present ;  for  it  was  the  Saxon  North,  against 
the  Norman  South.  The  issue  of  the  game  was  for  quite 
a  long  time  doubtful,  each  losing  a  few  men,  till  I  took 
my  fair  foe's  queen,  and  then  her  knights,  when  she 
exclaimed — "  There  goes  my  chivalry  !" 

I  soon  after  check -mated  her  king,  when  she  cried  out — 
"  Kansas  is  a  Free  State  !  " 

One  of  the  ladies  present  remarked,  that  had  it  been 
her,  she  would  have  played  three  years,  as  long  as  Jeffer- 
son did  with  the  Frenchman,  before  she  would  have  given 
up. 

The  topic  of  conversation  following  this  was  about  the 
North  and  the  South. 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE   SOUTH.*  143 

The  North  was  Saxon,  and  eminently  practical.  The 
South,  Norman,  and  from  the  '' utile  et  dulcis"  of  life, 
she,  enjoying  her  abundance  and  ease,  takes  the  ''dulcis." 
If  the  South  is  not  as  practical,  neither  is  she  as  profes- 
sional as  the  North  ;  although  her  titles,  degrees,  and  di- 
plomas are  plentifully  bestowed  upon  her  sons,  by  her  own 
schools  and  ours,  yet  they  merely  consider  them,  as  the 
old  Romans  did  oratory,  necessary  to  the  gentleman. 

Hence  you  find  scores  of  doctors,  lawyers,  school-teach- 
ers, and  those  practising  the  various  professions  here  from 
the  North. 

The  South  has  been  in  the  habit  of  giving  her  schools, 
and  much  of  her  professional  practice  to  Northern  young 
men,  to  induce  them  to  become  her  citizens.  At  one  time 
there  were  more  than  forty  members  of  Congress  from  the 
South  who  claimed  New  England  for  their  birth-place. 

The  intellect  of  the  South  is  not  called  out  by  such 
incentives  as  at  the  North.  Northern  young  men  are  not 
born  with  gold  spoons  in  their  mouths — inheriting  fortunes. 
But  the  old  Latin  maxim  applies  to  one  and  all — 

^'  Quisque  suce  fortunce  faher''  Every  man  is  the 
architect  of  his  own  fortune. 

And  their  road  to  it  is  through  the  various  pursuits  in 
life  ;  and  the  chief  means  of  rendering  them  successful  is 
a  good  education.  This  is  the  philosopher's  stone,  that 
converts  their  labor  into  gold. 

Had  the  North  as  genial  a  clime,  and  as  luxuriant  a 
soil  as  the  South,  she  would  not  have  an  intellectual  New 
England,  that  stands  like  Saul  among  the  prophets,  head 
and  shoulders  above  every  other  part  of  the  Union  ;  she 
would  not  have  the  "  spur  that  she  now  has  to  prick  the 
side  of  her  intent." 
JBMan  is  naturally  indolent,  and  were  not  appetite,  self- 
love  and  passion  strong,  he  would  die  out,  body  and  soul. 


144  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

He  would  prefer  the  life  of  Tom  Moore — 

"Lying  in  tli*e  bowers  of  ease,  smiling  at  fame." 

Or  dre<am  away  life,  with  Thompson,  in  his  "  Castle  of 
Indolence,"  who,  although  he  sung  man  so  "  falsely  luxu- 
rious" probably  never  saw  the  sun  rise  five  times  in  his 
life,  or  ever  really 

"  Enjoyed  the  cool,  the  fresh,  the  fragrant  hour, 
To  meditation  due,  and  sacred  song  ;" 

but  was  SO  "luxurious"  that  he  has  been  seen,  standing 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  eating  a  peach  from  the  tree. 

Where  nature  has  failed  to  yield  man  wealth  from  the 
soil,  he  has  added  science  to  make  the  glebe  more  produc- 
tive, or  failing  in  this,  he  has  sought  some  useful  trade, 
or  husbanding  his  own  intellectual  resources,  has  relied 
upon  his  talent  to  secure  him  a  competency  for  life. 

Hence  the  adverse  soil  of  rude  and  rough  New  England 
has  developed  her  science,  and  driven  her  sons  to  the  intel- 
lectual pursuits  of  life.  , 

It  is  not  so  South.  Nature  has  been  more  lavish  in  hdt 
gifts,  and  man  has  not  resorted  to  his  genius  to  supply  his 
wants.  Hence  the  mind  is  unaroused  by  the  stimuli  of 
necessity.  While  you  are  making  science,  art,  invention 
all  subserve  to  the  daily  uses  of  life,  they  would  think  i 
some  like  "  carrying  coal  to  NoAVcastle."  All  the  scienae 
necessary  here  is  to  plant  cotton,  hoe  cotton,  gin  cotton, 
ship  cotton,  and  sell  cotton. 

They  do  not  generally  make  their  own  implements  of 
husbandry.  They  buy  everything  from  a  gin-stand  down 
to  an  axe  helve,  of  the  North. 

The  usual  hum  of  business  one  does  not  hear  in  these 
Southern  towns ;  they  are  more  quiet  than  ours.  No 
whirlincr  mills — no  whining  machinery — no  clang  of  a 
vils — no  ringing  of  factory  bells — no  din  and  bustle  of  the 


^ 


SOJOURN   IX   THE   SOUTH.  145 

crowded  mart.  They  have  no  wheat  to  grind,  no  manu- 
facturing, and  but  little  "smithing,"  to  do;  hence  their 
trade  and  traffic  have  no  strife  and  commotion.  From  the 
quiet  appearance  of  their  towns  the  stranger  would  think 
that  the  energies  of  trade  were  hushed — that  business  had 
gone  into  a  pause,  or  w^as  taking  a  siesta. 

The  North  is  set  off  finely  by  contrasting  it  with  the 
South.  One  thinks  more  of  it,  after  viewing  it  from  a 
Southern  stand-point.  He  sees  its  stirring  business  life, 
its  thrift,  industry  and  economy.  He  sees  its  thousand 
various  pursuits,  and  trades,  by  which  its  citizens  earn  a 
livelihood,  and  secure  a  fortune — her  churches  and  school- 
houses,  manufactories  and  work-shops — those  "Aladdin 
Caves,"  where,  with  labor  for  her  "lamp,"  she  constructs 
the  innumerable  works  of  her  orenius  with  such  mao-ic  skill, 
or  converts  her  forests  into  blooming  fields,  builds  her 
towns,  levels  her  mountains,  constructs  her  railroads,  and 
does  all  things. 

From  another  point  of  view  the  South  is  set  off  by  con- 
trast with  the  North ;  it  is  from  its  half-tropical  year. 


/ 


CHAPTER   XY, 


WINTER 


"Then  Winter's  time-bleaclied  locks  did  hoary  show, 

By  Hospitality  with  cloudless  brow." 

Burns. 


If  there  is  a  character  in  the  whole  Northern  land,  that 

■^  Solithron  dislikes,  one  that  he  hates  worse  than  Greeley, 

it  is  "  Old  HiEMS."     They  can  stand  Horace,  and  the 

K 


146  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR'S 

thunder  of  his  Tribune,  better  than  the  old  icicled  hero, 
with  his  cokl,  and  wrath,  and  magazine  of  storms. 

Their  year  is  more  monotonous;  it  has  throAvn  the  winter 
out  of  its  calendar,  and  has  taken  only  the  disagreeable 
days  of  our  fall  and  spring,  and  made  a  winter  of  them, 
that  passes  well  enough  in  this  clime.  In  truth,  a  South- 
ern winter,  is  a  gift  to  these  two  seasons,  being  cut  into 
halves ;  one  part  is  added  to  the  spring,  and  the  other 
lengthens  out  the  fall.  Spring  is  like  summer,  summer 
like  autumn,  and  autumn  so  much  like  winter,  that  they 
may  be  said  to  have  no  winter  at  all. 

Our  w^inter  is  unlike  any  other  season  of  the  year — it  is 
something  new — a  deep,  earnest,  sublime  scene.  It  is  the 
"  Tragedy  of  Old  Hiems"  on  the  year.  There  is  no  play 
or  farce  about  it.  It  is  another  Othello  killing  that  love- 
ly Desdamoxa — the  goddess  of  autumn.  I  have  watched 
the  winter  sky  of  this  clime  w^hen  it  seemed 

*'  Gathering  its  brows  with  gathering  storm," 

and  have  anxiously  waited  to  see  the  elements  have  their 
mad  revel  out.  But,  it  was  a  broken-down  tragedy.  It 
was  "Richard,"  when  "Eichard"  was  not  himself. 
There  was  no  "  winter  in  his  discontent,"  but  summer-like, 

"He  capered  nimbly  by  his  lady's  chamber," 

and  did  not  act  out  the  roused  fury  of  the  passion  in  him. 
But  they  dread  our  winter,  because  they  dislike  to  bur- 
row up,  five  months  in  the  year,  as  the  Lapps  and  Finns 
do.  Our  ladies — pretty  parlor  annuals — lovely  exotics, 
mewed  up  half  of  the  year  in  air-tight  rooms,  heated  by 
air-tight  stoves — no  wonder  they  die  of  the  consumption. 
Did  not  our  ancestors  live  longer  and  enjoy  life  better  ere 
the  stove  was  in  use  ?  Those  stoves  !  "  Oh,  tempora  ! 
Oh,  mores!     Quousque  tander)i  ahutere.'' 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  147 

0,  ye  Goths  and  Vandals  of  the  North  !  Tvill  neither  the 
examples  of  our  wise  forefathers,  nor  the  happiness  of  the 
present  generation,  keeuayou  from  invading  their  homes 
and  robbing  them  of  the  health  and  enjoyment  that  were 
once  their  very  penates  ? 

Nothing  can  compensate  for  it ;  human  progress  has  ac- 
tually failed  in  introducing  the  stove.  They  use  none  in 
this  clime,  not  even  in  cooking. 

The  old  iron  crane,  fastened  to  the  jambs,  still  swings 
to  and  fro  over  the  fire,  tricked  off  with  its  "big  and  little 
pot-hooks  and  links  of  chain,"  and  the  venerable  old 
"  bake-kettle"  sits  in  the  corner, 

"  Just  as  they  used  to  do — some  fifty  years  ago," 


SPRING. 

"  Next  came  the  loveliest  pair  in  all  the  ring, 
Sweet  Female  Beauty  hand  in  hand  with  Spring." 

This  season  does  not  come  as  at  the  North,  with  a  sud- 
den rebound  from  the  thraldom  of  winter,  in  all  its  fresh 
and  green  glories.  Her  glad  approach  causes  no  streams 
to  leap  from  their  icy  fetters ;  nor  does  she  come  with  her 
bird-songs.  They  had  long  before  heralded  her  coming 
in  the  forest.     Neither  with  her 

*'  Buds  and  bells  and  blossoms," 

flushing  all  the  fields  with  green,  "  enamelling  the  mead- 
ows with  primroses,  cowslips  and  daises."  We  had  had 
many  of  the  birds  and  flowers  with  us  all  winter  ;  and  then 
the  hyacinth,  the  jonquil,  the  Japan  or  German  rose,  and 

"  The  daffodils  that  come  before  the  swallow  dares, 
And  takes  the  winds  of  March  with  beauty," 


148  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

and  all  jour  "winking  May-buds,  that  ope  their  pretty 
eyes"  with  early  spring,  appear  here  in  February,  so  that 
spring  does  not  give  so  much  of^  new  floral  edition,  as 
the  winter  one  revised,  enlarged,  and  more  fully  illustrated. 
May  left  the  corn  tasseling  out,  the  negroes  hoeing  the 
cotton  for  the  second  time  ;  the  fig,  the  plum  and  the  June 
apple  getting  ripe,  the  pea  in  the  yellow  leaf,  and  the  rose 
and  magnolia  in  full  bloom. 


SUMMER. 

'•  Then,  crowned  with  flow'ry  hay,  came  rural  Joy, 
And  Summer,  with  his  fervid-beaming  eye." 

Burns. 

The  epithet,  "sunny,"  is  appropriately  applied  to  the 
South.  There  is  much  more  sunshine  in  the  day-light 
here  than  with  you  at  the  North.  The  thermometers  may 
be  alike  in  both  places,  yet  it  is  sunnier  here.  The  sky, 
though  perhaps  softer  and  flushed  with  more  gorgeous  hues, 
is  not  so  dark  and  gloomy  as  at  the  North.  And  there  is 
oftener 

"A  wind  to  drive  the  clouds  away, 
And  open  day-light"s  shutters." 

I  have  seen  the  whole  cloud-lined  canopy  of  heaven  rest- 
ing on  a  most  lovely  sunset-painted  base — a  bright  heav- 
enly border  circling  the  whole  horizon,  whose  colors  grew 
softer  and  fainter,  as  they  reached  upwards,  till  they  died 
away  in  the  blue  arch  overhead.  The  Southern  world 
was  most  beautifully  tented  in. 

During  a  storm  I  have  often  wondered  where  the  rain 
could  come  from,  and  how  it  could  rain  so  long  and  copi- 
ously from  such  thin  clouds.     Then  the  suddenness  of  the 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  149 

storm  takes  you  by  surprise.     The  coming  event  casts  no 
shadow  before. 

"A  little  stir  among  the  clouds" — 

and  lake  and  river  bubble. 

There  are  no  mountains  nor  hills  here,  hence  no  twilight. 
The  sun  goes  down  with  a  bounce.  These  beautiful  lines 
of  Scott  are  not  true  in  this  clime : 

''  Here,  too,  are  twilight  nooks  and  dells  ; 
And  oft,  in  such,  the  story  tells, 
Of  damsels  kind,  from  danger  freed, 
That  grateful  paid  their  champions'  meed," 

We  only  doubt  their  truth  here  in  regard  to  twilight,  re- 
member. One  can,  in  mountainous  or  hilly  countries,  read 
or  write  some  time  after  the  sun  has  gone  down,  by  the  lin- 
gering light ;  but  here  it  is  snatched  from  your  book  or 
paper,  and  the  curtain  is  dropped. 

June  was  not  a  very  hot  month.  The  thermometer 
ranged  at  no  time  above  ninety  in  the  shade.  But  July 
has  been  hotter  by  some  two  or  three  degrees.  It  is  not, 
as  at  the  Xorth,  an  extremely  hot  day  or  two,  then  cool 
weather ;  but  day  after  day  nothing  but  sunshine — the 
same  summer  heat,  interrupted  only  by  frequent  showers, 
which  leave  the  air  a  little  cooler.  This  affects  a  Northern- 
er more  than  the  fitful  weather  of  his  own  summers,  whose 
intermittent  heat  ranges  from  eighty  to  over  one  hundi-ed 
degrees,  Fahrenheit,  but  is  followed  by  a  relieving  cool- 
ness. There  is  occasionally  a  relief  here ;  the  nights  are 
often  cooler.  I  have  felt  during  the  hot  days  in  July  and 
August  like  crying  out — Oh !  that  night,  or  a  thuder- 
storm,  would  (^me ! 

Many  are  affected,  especially  the  white  laboring  class, 
by  what  is  termed  the  ''  heat."     It  not  only  gives  them  an 


150  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

"itching  palm,"  but  it  breaks  out  all  over  the  body  in  lit- 
tle red  pimples,  and  worries  the  whole  man  with  a  burning, 
itching  sensation. 

The  people  dress  light.  The  vest  is  thrown  off,  and  the 
rest  of  the  clothing  is  thin.  Yet  you  find  the  Southron 
enveloped  these  hot  days,  in  his  wrapper  and  drawers. 

Their  summer  has  a  listless  languor — amusements  are 
abandoned,  and  every  one  seeks  the  shade. 

The  "accustomed  fever"  of  the  South,  which  generally 
attacks  a  Northerner  the  first  season,  by  way  of  acclimat- 
ing him,  appeared  some  time  past  the  middle  of  June. 
And  it  was  thought  by  many  physicians,  considering  the 
flood  along  the  Mississippi  and  Yazoo,  especially  if  it 
abated  suddenly,  that  we  would  have  a  sickly  season. 
But  it  was  not,  though  many  planters  and  their  families 
had  the  fever,  and  many  negroes  on  the  various  plantations 
were  sick  with  it ;  still  there  were  not  many  deaths.  It  is 
a  more  malignant  type  of  a  common  Northern  fever,  but 
is  dealt  with  in  a  much  severer  manner  by  the  physicians, 
who  usually  prescribe  quinine  and  calomel  in  abundance. 

The  yellow  fever  came  later.  This  is  confined  to  towns 
and  cities  on  the  Mississippi  and  its  navigable  branches. 
And  although  by  quarantine  great  caution  is  taken,  yet  it 
is  brought  up  from  New  Orleans  by  the  steamers. 

This  dreadful  disease  has  some  singular  features.  It 
seldom  attacks  a  negro,  and  never  a  white  person  but 
once  ;  yet  if  they  survive  it,  like  an  insidious  and  treach- 
erous foe,  that  breaks  its  pledge  of  secui'ity  given  to  a 
former  captive  when  caught  on  other  grounds,  it  attacks 
you  more  fatally  the  second  time,  if  you  are  exposed  to 
it  in  any  other  place  than  where  you  first  had  it. 

Mr.  P.,  of  Willow  Dale,  who  is  very  kind  to  his  slaves, 
doing,  when  they  are  sick,  all  that  he  or  medical  aid 
can,    for   them,    told    me    that    no    event    was    dreaded 


SOJOURX   IN   THE   SOUTH.  151 

by  liim  so  much  as  sickness  among  his  slaves.  Dur- 
ing epidemics — save  the  yellow  fever — negroes  are  at- 
tacked more  severely  than  the  whites.  It  is  hard  to  con- 
trol their  appetites.  As  soon  as  they  are  convalescent, 
and  able  to  eat  at  all,  they  feed  themselves  without  fear. 
The  fatter  the  food  the  better.     He  further  remarked: 

"When  they  live,  they  live  like  pigs  in  clover, 
And  when  they're  sick,  they're  sick  all  over." 

And  here,  in  conclusion  with  this,  let  me  introduce  to 
you  an  important  character — the  planter's  field-marshal — 
in  common  parlance,  the  overseer  ;  who  is,  besides  being 
in  command  of  the  cori:)8  de  Afrique^  their  physician  ;  has 
his  "  set  of  medicines,"  and,  in  case  of  sickness  among 
them,  is  considered  as  good  as  half  of  the  doctors.  You 
often  meet  intelligent  young  men  among  them ;  and  I 
have  seen  several  wealthy  planters  that  began  by  oversee- 
ing. What  is  generally  termed  a  "  slave-driver,"  is  not 
an  overseer.  A  '^  slave-driver"  is  a  negro  who  acts  as 
overseer.  A  faithful,  trusty  negro  is  often  put  in  charge 
of  the  rest,  when  the  overseer  is  absent,  or  in  case  of 
emergency.  The  overseer  has  his  horse  and  saddle,  and 
rides  over  the  field,  or  changes  and  walks,  as  he  sees  fit. 
He  is  always  distinguished  by  his  "insignia"  of  office — 
his  "baton" — the  whip,  which  is  ever  in  his  hand.  He 
has  entire  command  of  the  slaves  ; — the  correcting  and  pun- 
ishing is  all  left  to  him.  He  decides  on  the  most  trivial, 
or  weighty  matters.  The  planter  has  nothing  to  do  with 
them.  The  overseer  is  often  the  cause,  especially  if  he  is 
a  hot-spur  in  temper,  of  much  trouble  among  the  slaves. 
His  residence  at  the  "  quarters,"  though  it  may  be  like  the 
rest,  is  a  sort  of  a  governor's-house  among  the  negro 
cabins. 

"VYe  have  said  the  planter  had  nothing  to   do  with  the 


152  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

governing  of  the  slaves.  He  has  not ;  yet  there  are  cases, 
of  course,  in  the  jurisprudence  of  the  plantation,  in  which 
the  planter,  as  higher  authority,  is  consulted. 

The  overseer,  for  his  services,  gets  from  four  to  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  per  year. 

THE  FLOOD  ALONG  THE  YAZOO. 

This  flood  continued  till  past  mid-summer.  The  Yazoo, 
after  overflowing  its  banks,  and  part  of  many  planta- 
tions in  the  valley,  in  August,  finally  fell  back  into  its 
proper  channel.  The  losses  sustained  by  planters  along 
this  stream,  in  cattle  and  crops,  are  laid  at  half  a  million  of 
dollars.  One  of  our  neighbors  has  been  damaged  to  the 
amount  of  thirty  thousand  dollars.  Yet  you  hear  no  com- 
plaining or  condoling  over  losses.  These  losses  are,  in  re- 
gard to  digestion — conviviality — accustomed  enjoyment, 
and  sleep,  mere  bagatelles  to  the  planter. 

The  high  water  drove  the  cattle  from  their  usual  range, 
and  confined  them  to  such  close  quarters,  that,  for  some 
time  during  the  summer,  they  were  fed  on  corn-stalks. 
The  only  hope  the  poor  creatures  had,  after  the  loss 
of  their  accustomed  summer-grazing,  was  in  the  new 
growth  of  grass  that  might  yet  spring  up,  on  the  flood's 
receding.  Their  cows  give  less  milk  than  those  that  feed 
in  the  rich  meadows  of  the  North. 

They  never  speak  here  of  the  good  pasture  their  cows 
have,  but  of  the  "wide  range"  they  have.  This  is  in  the 
woods,  around  the  swamps,  and  everywhere,  outside  of  the 
fields. 

The  planter  usually  keeps  from  fifteen  to  fifty,  or  more, 
cows.  Including  all  his  cattle,  he  may  have  an  hundred 
head ;  many  have  more,  with  some  twenty  or  thirty  mules, 
and  some   five  or  six  horses.     In  counting  his  cattle,  as 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  153 

winter  sets  in,  he  often  finds  quite  a  number  missing.  The 
poorer  people  living  in  the  back-woods,  besides  being 
lumbermen,  are  frequently  "cow-boys,"  and  steal  the 
planters'  cattle,  which  they  kill  and  sell  in  market. 

Corn  ripened  about  the  middle  of  July,  and  its  leaves 
were  all  stripped  from  the  stalks,  bound  into  bundles, 
and  put  into  stacks  or  ricks  for  winter  fodder.  And 
now,  mid-August,  the  time  for  picking  cotton,  has  come. 
There  is  no  field  that  a  negro  enters,  in  which  he  loves  to 
labor  more  than  in  this — certainly  he  labors  in  none  more 
beautiful.  I  would  give  an  impossibility,  could  I  describe 
one  of  these  cotton-fields  stretching  away  along  the  valley 
till  it  loses  itself  in  the  distance,  as  it  appears  to  me.  The 
innumerable  little  cotton-trees,  growing  from  six  to  eight 
feet  high,  standing  close  to  each  other,  in  interminable 
rows,  a  short  distance  apart,  every  weed  and  spear  of 
grass  hoed  out,  look  like  vast  fields  of  neat,  well-trimmed 
hedge-rows.  The  ''bloom,"  which  appears  the  last  of 
May,  or  the  first  of  June,  resembles  that  of  the  morning- 
glory,  and  like  it,  opens  white  in  the  morning,  but  as  the 
day  departs  it  grows  red  and  folds  its  leaves.  It  blooms 
first  at  the  bottom  ;  and  there  is  where  the  bolls  first  begin 
to  open,  continuing  as  they  form  to  open  higher  and  higher, 
till  the  topmost  one  has  "snowed"  out  its  cotton-flakes. 
Were  the  bolls  all  to  remain  as  they  expand,  from  bottom 
to  top,  of  these  little  "trees  en-row,"  over  the  whole  field, 
we  should  have  presented  to  our  admiring  gaze  those  fields 
of  "mimic  snow"  that  the  tourist  has  so  often  described. 
But  the  negro,  determined  that 

"A  thing  of  beauty  shall  not  be  a  joy  forever," 

as  soon  as  the  lower  bolls  have  sufficiently  expanded,  arms 
himself  with  his  cotton-sack  strung  around  his  shoulders, 
and  commences  picking  this  lower  border  of  cotton,  and 


154  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

.continues  as  the  bolls  open  to  the  top ;  at  which  time  the 
field  looks  the  snowiest.  An  industrious  negro  will  pick 
ten  bales,  of  five  hundred  pounds  each,  in  a  season.  From 
early  morn  to  night-fall — from  mid- August  to  Christmas, 
he  is  a  cotton-picker.  All  this  time  the  high-boxed  cotton- 
wagon  is  plying  between  the  cotton-field  and  the  gin-house, 
and  the  '^gin"  is  continually  going — separating  the  seed 
from  the  cotton.  As  fast  as  the  planter  wishes  to  ship  it 
for  New  Orleans,  it  is  thrown  into  the  press  and  the  bales 
are  turned  out. 

Connected  with  the  cotton-gin,  the  planter  has  a  corn- 
mill,  where  he  grinds  all  his  corn  into  meal.  Here,  on 
his  own  premises,  is  the  fountain,  from  which  so  much 
Southern  wealth  flows — from  which  all  the  ^'  corn-dodcrers" 
and  ^'hoe-cakes"  spring.  And  what  is  not  a  little  singu- 
lar, they  always  prefer  the  white  meal,  to  make  the  bread 
for  their  tables.  The  yellow,  surely,  is  the  most  nutritious 
and  palatable.  But  although  they  eat  so  much  corn-bread, 
they  eat  but  little  hasty-pudding  and  milk.  This  pudding 
is  often  on  their  tables,  but  it  is  usually  eaten  with  sugar 
or  sirup.  Like  many  of  the  people  in  Michigan  and  the 
West,  they  call  the  New  England  Hasty  Pudding — that 
luxury  of  a  dish — mush  !  I  very  much  dislike  this  name 
for  it.  It  surely  is  not  like  "Juliet's  rose  ;"  to  me,  with 
this  other  name,  it  certainly  does  not  "smell  as  sweet." 

"  The  soft  nations  round  the  warm  Levant 
Polanta  call ;   the  French  of  course  Folante  ; 
E'en  in  my  native  regions  how  I  blush 
To  hear  the  Pennsylvanians  call  thee  Mush  ! 
On  Hudson's  banks  while  men  of  Belgic  spawn, 
Insult  and  eat  thee  by  the^name  sup-pawn, 
Thy  name  is  Hasty  Pudding  !" 

But  they  have  a  much  pleasanter  name  for  what  we  call 
loppered  milk — honyiy  clabber.     This   is   often   on   their 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  155 

tables,  wliicli,  sprinkled  with  sugar  or  nutnieg,  and  eaten 
with  the  latter  name,  I  think  relishes  much  better. 

In  the  garden,  both  here  and  at  Oak  Valley,  I  find 
many  things  strangers  to  me,  that  I  have  groAvn  fond  of  at 
the  table.  The  Cabbage  Pea,  with  its  large  broad  pod, 
makes  a  fine  soup  ;  and  another  one,  the  Asparagus  Pea, 
with  a  small,  round  pod  that  grows  from  a  foot  to  three 
feet  in  length,  makes  a  choice  dish  at  table.  The  Lima 
Bean  is  well  known,  but  it  has  its  relative  here,  the  But- 
ter Bean,  which,  besides  being  a  most  prolific  bearer,  is 
first,  par  excellence,  when  cooked.  An  Artichoke  grows 
here,  which,  when  prepared  for  the  plate,  is  said  to  please 
the  dainty  epicure.  The  Egg  Plant,  the  fruit  of  w^hich 
hangs  from  its  little,  tender  tree  like  great,  elongated  pur- 
ple eggs,  and  when  served  at  table,  many  are  fond  of,  I 
must  confess,  to  my  palate,  has  no  particular  taste  or  rel- 
ish. A  vegetable  bearing  a  cone-shaped  pod,  called  Och- 
ra,  and  which,  when  ready  for  eating,  is  very  palatable, 
grows  in  their  gardens.  There  are  many  other  vegetables 
peculiar  to  this  clime,  I  have  not  space  to  notice  here. 
The  whole  family  of  Cabbages  is  inferior  to  ours.  That 
of  the  Onion  is  much  more  numerous,  and  just  as  good. 

The  Irish  Potatoe,  though  not  a  real  Southron,  forms  a 
very  acceptable  connection  here.  It  is  large  enough  for 
eating  when  the  yam  and  sweet  potatoe  begin  to  fail,  in 
the  spring,  and  it  holds  its  place  on  the  table  till  in  the 
fall,  when  the  more  favorite  ones,  which  ripen  late,  and 
are  not  eaten,  unlike  the  Irish  potatoe,  until  they  are  ripe, 
claim  their  accustomed  place.  It  is  then  cooked  only 
semi-occasionally. 

The  apples,  save  the  June  apple,  and  the  Early  Queen, 
are  coarse,  and  inferior  to  ours.  The  Nectarine  and 
Apricot  are  very  fine.  The  Plum  is  not  so  good.  The 
Peach  that    had   been   represented    all   along   as    much 


156  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

superior  to  ours,  rivaling  even  the  famed  ones  of  Jersey, 
when  I  came  to  eat  it,  really  fell  short  of  my  '^  sugared 
suppositions"  of  it.  I  find  some  of  the  richest  variety  of 
Pears  here.  The  Bartlett  I  never  saw  larger  and  finer 
flavored.  The  Seckle,  from  Ohio,  is  rich  and  excellent. 
There  are  others  just  as  worthy  of  notice.  The  Grapes 
are  fine.  The  Scuppernong,  from  North  Carolina,  and 
from  which,  in  that  State,  an  excellent  wine,  in  high  repute 
here,  is  made,  is  a  large,  rich-flavored  Grape.  It  is  a 
russet  when  ripe.  The  Le  Noir,  an  abundant  bearer,  is 
another  fine  Grape  of  a  purple  color.  The  Fig — the 
planter  really  sits  and  enjoys  life  beneath  his  own  vine 
and  fig-tree — is  a  large-leafed  tree,  with  no  main  trunk, 
but  shoots  up  in  branches  like  the  stalks  in  a  wheat- 
stool,  and  is  like  the  Tomato,  also  here,  a  great  bearer. 
The  first  crop  ripened  and  vanished  by  the  middle  of  July 
— the  second  soon  followed,  and  a  third  came  after  that. 

The  planter's  wife  has  been  busy  since  fruit  ripened,  in 
overseeing  the  making  of  her  jellies,  preserves,  drying 
fruit,  and  preparing  them  in  their  fresh  state  for  the  fruit- 
cans,  which  being  hermetically  sealed,  keep  them  good 
the  year  round. 

In  regard  to  Southern  fare,  I  have  found  it  very  plain 
and  frugal.  Some  one  has  said,  "  Tell  me  what  a  people 
eat  and  I  will  tell  you  their  morals."  We  will  leave  Messrs. 
Fowlers,  and  their  dietetic  school,  to  expatiate  upon  this 
text,  but  merely  remark  that  the  South,  according  to  their 
reasoning,  has  the  better  of  us  here.  Their  accustomed 
diet,  at  any  rate,  is  more  wholesome  and  healthy  than  ours. 
Our  table,  at  Willow  Dale,  had  the  best  of  ham,  venison, 
turkey,  birds,  fish — et  id  omyie  genus ;  Vfith  the  usual 
variety  of  corn-bread  and  the  little  wheat-biscuit  and  but- 
ter. Many  people  North  think  the  famous  "hoe-cake," 
like  Venice  and  Genoa,  "  lives  only  in  song."     They  have 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  157 

only,  to  dispel  that  error,  to  come  here  and  find  it  on  the 
planter's  table.  It  takes  its  name  from  its  first  being 
baked  by  the  negroes  on  a  hoe.  It  is  about  as  thick  as 
an  Elementary  spelling-book,  before  an  urchin  gets  it,  and 
about  as  large,  cutting  the  corners  ofi"  and  making  it  oval. 
The  Sweet  Potatoe  is  cooked  whole,  or  brought  on  to  the 
table  in  large  flat  slices,  fried.  It  is  the  richest  potatoe  I 
ever  ate.  The  usual  drink  is  cofi'ee.  One  word  about 
pork.  Both  the  ham  and  bacon  must  be  smoked  in  order 
to  keep  them  wholesome.  In  vulgar  parlance,  the  planter 
may  be  said  to  ''go  the  whole  hog."  He  eats,  not  only 
the  ham,  bacon,  jowles  and  ''souse,"  but  the  brains,  hars- 
let, milt,  lights  and  chitterlings. 

This  is  the  plain  fare.  On  extra  occasions  their  tables 
are  a  banquet.  All  the  luxuries  that  can  be  had  at  New 
Orleans,  at  such  times  you  will  find  on  them.  The  steam- 
ers on  the  Yazoo  and  Mississippi  are  the  planters'  "  ca- 
reir  pigeons."  They  will  stop  at  the  wave  of  a  handker- 
chief by  a  negro,  and  take  any  message  and  do  any  errand 
for  the  planter,  at  Vicksburgh  or  New  Orleans.  They 
also  throw  off,  as  they  pass  by,  the  daily  and  weekly 
Deltas,  Picayunes,  and  other  papers,  at  his  residence, 
along  the  banks  of  the  river. 

AUTUMN. 

"  All-cheering  Plenty,  with  her  flowing  horn, 
Led  yellow  Autumn  wreathed  with  nodding  corn." 

BUENS. 

"  Now  I  imagine  you  seized  with  a  fine,  romantic  kind 
of  melancholy,  on  the  fading  of  the  year ;  now  I  figure  you 
wandering  philosophical  and  pensive,  amidst  the  brown 
withered  groves,  while  the  leaves  rustle  under  your  feet, 
the  sun  gives  a  farewell  parting  gleam,  and  the  birds 


158  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"  Stir  the  faint  note,  and  but  attempt  to  sing. 

"  Then  again,  the  winds  whistle,  I  see  jou  in  the  well- 
known  Cleugh,  beneath  the  solemn  arch  of  tall,  thick,  em- 
bowering trees,  listening  to  the  amusing  lull  of  many 
steep,  moss-grown  cascades ;  while  deep,  divine  contem- 
plation, the  genius  of  the  place,  prompts  each  swelling, 
awful  thought.  I  am  sure  you  would  not  resign  your  part 
in  that  scene  at  an  easy  rate." 

Thus  writes  Thompson — 

"The  S"weet  descriptive  bard, 
Inspiring  Autumn  sung." 

What  a  rich  inheritance  Autumn  gives  us !  What  a 
gift  she  presents  us  in  this  lovely,  mellow,  golden  weather, 
and  the  glorious  forest  standing  in  it — pensive  and  dreamy 
— murmuring  and  plaintive  with  leaf-music  and  the  loveliest 
bird-songs  of  the  year ;  and  soon,  too,  to  be  arrayed  in 
liues — Oh  !  I  would  give  worlds  could  I  describe  them — 
beautiful  as  those  of 

"parting  day. 


Or  the  dying  dolphin  whom  each  pang  imbues 
With  a  new  color." 

Hues  that  "mingle  into  each  other,  and  shift,  and 
change,  and  glance  away,  like  the  colors  in  a  peacock's 
train."  Who  would  resign  a  part  in  such  a  scene  at  an 
easy  rate,  one  so  full  of  the  melancholy  liveliness  of 
the  year  ?     And  as  if  to  add  more  beauty  and  delight  to 

it to  give  the  lovely  hectic  flush  to  the  cheek  of  dying 

Autumn,  in  this  region,  the  roses  have  commenced  bloom- 
mcf  attain,  while  those  favorites,  the  crape  myrtle  and  the 
alth{»,  continue  to  do  as  they  have  done  all  summer  long — 
nothing  but  blojm — bloom — and  blossom.  Most  of  the 
trees now   mid-September — are   yet   in   their    summer 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  159 

green — unfacled.  The  sycamores  in  front  of  the  negro- 
cabins,  are  in  their  rich  olio  of  colors.  Some  of  the  foliage 
in  the  woods  begins  to  look  old — here  and  there  one  in 
parti-colored  leaves,  and  frequently  a  bright  yellow  or 
crimson  bough,  radiant  in  the  green  tree-top,  delights  the 
eye.  Death  is  the  lovliest  where  the  most  beauty  dies. 
And  though  we  miss  here  "  the  living  stream,  the  airy 
mountain,  and  the  hanging  rock,"  of  the  North,  yet  the 
loveliest  of  flowers,  and  a  tropical  luxuriance,  and  beauty 
of  foliage,  in  the  grand  old  forest,  are  dying.     For — 

"Witliin  the  solemn  woods  of  asli  deep-crimsoned, 
And  silver  beach,  and  maple  yellow-leafed, 
Autumn,  like  a  faint,  old  man  sits  down. 
By  the  way-side  weary." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
LIFE   AT   WILLOW   DALE. 

"  I  have  pleasant  memories  of  life  in  this  pleasant  land." 

Willow  Dale,  so  long  my  home  on  the  Banks  of  the 
Yazoo,  and  where  I  have  spent  so  many  happy  and  de- 
lightful days,  is  truly  a  noble  mansion  and  a  very  pleasant 
home.  I  lacked  nothing  now  to  make  my  sojourn  in  the 
South  truly  enjoyable.  The  pursuit  after  a  school  had 
been  the  amari  aliquid — the  drop  of  bitter — in  my  enjoy- 
ment here ;  that  now  had  ceased,  and  I  was  prepared  to 
commence  my  vocation,  and  enjoy  Southern  life.  I  had  a 
very  fine   room  furnished  with  everything  to  make  one 


160  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

comfortable — a  servant  to  build  my  fires,  black  my  boots 
and  do  my  errands.  The  family  was  a  very  pleasant  one. 
And  ^\e  had  in  addition  to  it,  spending  the  winter  with 
us,  two  fair  cousins.  They  were  thus  described  by  a 
Yazoo  city  editor,  at  a  late  ball  given  in  that  place. 

"We  noticed  the  Misses  B.,  of  Lexington,  Zenobia- 
like  in  their  beauty,  and  very  attractive  in  the  dance." 
They  would  be  attractive  in  the  court  of  Eugenie.  The 
elder — a  sprightly  Madamoiselle  Talien — the  younger — 
a  graceful  Josephine.  To  hear  the  "good  night"  of  the 
latter,  given  in  the  sweet  accents  of  her  musical  voice,  as 
she  glided  out  of  the  room  in  one  of  her  graceful  "  whirls," 
impressed  you  with  the  charm  of  its  utterance,  and  her 
gliding  out  of  the  room,  you  remembered  like  the  beauti- 
ful passage  of  a  dream. 

Our  evenings  at  Willow  Dale  were  given  to  amusements. 
After  one  becomes  acquainted  with  Southern  life,  he  sees 
that  society  here  must  have  them.  In  other  lands,  where 
life  has  a  pursuit,  less  amusement  is  required.  But  here, 
where  one  finds  its  golden  leisure,  amusements  are  indis- 
pensable. The  ladies  of  our  household  read,  were  fond  of  the 
works  of  literatui'e  and  romance,  and  among  authors  they 
were  very  fond  of  Scott.  He  is  a  favorite  of  the  South. 
Of  the  manners  and  scenes  in  his  novels  one  is  much  re- 
minded among  this  people.  Nowhere  have  I  enjoyed 
reading  him  so  much  as  in  this  clime.  I  have  read  books 
here  that  w^ould  have  given  one  the  ennui  to  have  read  at 
home.  Life  here  has  its  tranquil  repose,  and  a  book  in 
your  hand  is  like  a  friend,  that  is  entertaining  and  enjoy- 
ing it  with  you.  And  there  is  no  noise,  nor  any  one  to 
disturb  you.  A  bird-note  from  a  China-tree  is  sweeter, 
because  you  enjoy  it  unalloyed  by  any  other  sound ;  and 
the  reading  of  a  book  is  pleasanter,  because  there  is  no 
one  to  molest  or  find  fault  with,  and  call  you  indolent  or 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  161 

■ 

dellettantish.    The  "  enjoyment  of  literature  in  sucli  a  place 
is  like  feeding  among  the  lillies  in  the  Song  of  Solomon." 

I  have  seen  Willow  Dale  so  quiet  for  hours  that  the 
birds  would  stop  singing  in  its  trees,  in  love  of  its  silence. 
And  then,  when  the  sportive  laugh  or  merry  shout  of 
the  children  playing  in  the  yard,  sounded  out,  or  the 
whistle  or  splashing  of  a  steamer,  passing  by,  or  the  halloo 
of  a  stranger  at  the  gate,  and  the  hounds  baying  at  him, 
you  heard  and  listened  to  them  with  pleasure. 

Besides  readino^,  and  the  lis^ht  work  of  the  needle,  our 
ladies  gave  their  time  to  various  pleasures — visiting  and 
receiving  visits,  music,  vocal  and  instrumental,  the  dance, 
cards,  and  tete-a-tete.  Whist  is  universally  acknowledged 
a  lady's  game.  But  euchre  is  the  game  of  the  South, 
and  by  choice,  the  Southern  lady's  game.  I  must  confess 
to  predilection  for  chess,  and  I  always  found  some  one  of 
our  evening  circle  ready  to  play  with  me.  But  they  also 
play  whist  and  the  various  other  amusing  games  with 
cards,  which  here  are  manifold.  To  other  games,  and 
those  above  mentioned,  and  frequent  chats  about  books 
and  authors,  our  evenings  were  given. 

We  often  had  guests — ladies  and  gentlemen — from  Ya- 
zoo city  and  other  places,  who  sometimes  would  remain 
several  days  with  us,  and  sometimes  a  planter's  daughter 
would  stay  two  or  three  weeks.  Miss  Mollie  P.,  a  charm- 
ing young  lady  from  Virginia,  was  with  us  a  month  or 
more  dui'ing  the  winter.  This  made  life  at  Willow  Dale 
lively  and  interesting,  and  gave  our  evenings  a  greater 
fund  of  enjoyment. 

Then  we  had  moon-light  sails  on  the  noble  Yazoo.  I 
have  no  desire  to  disparage  the  North — my  birth-place 
and  home  are  there,  and  I  love  her.  But  there  is  a  charm 
in  Southern  moon-light  that  I  never  before  felt,  that  makes 

L 


162  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

the  night  exceedingly  lovely.  It  was  on  one  of  these 
lovely  nights  when — 

"The  moon  like  a  rick  on  fire  had  risen  o'er  the  dale," 

and  the  silvery  Yazoo  flowed  murmurless  between  the 
deep,  heavy  foliage  of  willows  that  hung  over  it  on  each 
side,  like  a  soft,  undulating  bank  of  green,  that  a  party 
of  us  at  Willow  Dale  stepped  into  the  boat,  with  a  favor- 
ite negro,  an  adept  at  the  oar,  for  oarsman,  to  take  a 
moon-light  sail.  AYe  were  on  a  serenading  trip — were 
going  to  serenade  Dr.  Y.'s  daughter  at  "Rough  and 
Ready" — her  home,  one  mile  up  the  river. 

It  had  been  previously  arranged  that  the  trip  should  be 
wholly  romantic — our  language  poetical,  and  that  all,  in 
unison  with  everything  around  us,  should  be — ideal.  Being 
seated  in  a  fine  row-boat,  we  silently  glided  up  stream. 
It  is  beautiful  to  sail  in  a  light  boat  "  on  such  a  night," 
when  all  nature  is  asleep,  and,  on  a  river  itself,  in  a 
lethean  tranquility  when  no  sound  is  heard  but  the 
light  dipping  and  soft  plashing  of  the  oars  in  the  water, 
and  the  muffled  sound  of  their  working  in  the  row-locks. 
And  where  the  voice  has  a  charmed  sound  that  the  night 
and  the  water  give,  and  when  you  are  fonder  of  talking, 
of  music,  and  musing,  and  fonder  of  your  own  existence. 

Thus  in  love  with  ourselves  and  the  scene  around  us, 
we  moved  ujd  stream,  repeating  passages  of  poetry  and 
snatches  of  song,  that  the  occasion  was  full  of,  and  half 
expressed.  And  though  we  repeat  some  of  them  here, 
they  seem  to  lose  much  of  their  poetry  by  not  being  en- 
joyed on  the  spot. 

"Now  in  the  infinite  meadows  of  the  heavens,  one  by  one, 
Blossomed  the  lovely  stars — the  forget-me-nots  of  the  angels." 

To  which  some  one  replied,  and — 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  163 

*'  The  moon-light  stealing  o'er  the  scene, 
Had  blended  -R-ith  these  lights  of  eve." 

Whicli  one  of  the  party  continued  by  repeating  Shel- 
ley's exquisite  stanza  on  the  moon,  from  his  "  Cloud." 
Another  said  that  though  the  moon  had  many  brooks  and 
streams,  she  had  but  one  Yazoo. 

To  which  was  replied — 

"  My  soul  is  an  enchanted  boat, 
That  like  a  sleeping  swan  doth  float 
On  its  silver  wave." 


Again — 


"It  is  the  hour  when  from  the  boughs 
The  nightingale's  high  note  is  heard  ; 

It  is  the  hour  when  lover's  vows 

Seem  sweet  in  every  whispered  word." 

Yes ; — 

"  On  such  a  night,"  Hero,  from  her — 

tower, 

Half  set  in  trees  and  leafy  luxury," 

watched  for  Leaxder  ;  and  "  on  such  a  night,"  Lorenzo 
and  Jessica  told  their  loves. 

And,  another  continued, ."  on  such  a  night,"  the  Hindoo 
maiden  set  her  wax-taper  afloat  on  the  Ganges. 

To  which  some  one  responded,  "on  such  a  night,"  the 
Yazoo  lover,  with  his  dusky  maid,  crossed  this  stream  in 
a  bark-canoe. 

Thus  we  were  sailing  up  stream,  all  poetry  and  romance, 
when  I  thoughtlessly  remarked,  that  the  trip  was  half 
performed,  for  we  had  passed  the  "old  gin-house,"  stand- 
ing hard  by  on  the  bank. 

At  which  one  of  the  Miss  B.'s  cried  out,  "There,  you 


164  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

have  broken  the  spell  of  romance,  by  uttering  such  a  vul- 
gar vtord  as  gin-Jiouse  /" 

I  begged  her  pardon,  and  told  her  I  would  enclose  the 
word  in  a  parenthetical  coffin,  and  bury  it  in  the  river ; 
and  assured  the  party  that  I  had  been  deceived — that  it 
was  an  old  ruined  castle,  overhung  w^ith  moss  and  ivy, 
which  I  had  mistaken  for  the  above-mentioned  building. 

To  complete  the  scene  of  our  trip,  a  magnificent  steamer, 
brilliantly  illuminated — the  Indian's  "Fire  Canoe,"  drop- 
ped down  stream  by  us,  like  a  thing  of  glorious  beauty. 

When  we  had  reached  a  point  a  little  above  the  "  Castle" 
of  our  lady-fair,  we  crossed  the  stream,  and  silently  glided 
down  till  we  were  opposite  her  abode ;  when  the  Misses 
B.,  one  playing  on  the  guitar,  began  the  serenade.  Their 
voices  sounded  out  on  the  clear  moon-lit  air — 

"  Soft  as  the  chant  of  Troubadours, 
Or  the  rythm  of  silver  bells." 

Our  lady  and  her  guests  came  out  into  the  porch  of  the 
mansion,  which  was  trellised  with  honeysuckle  and  wood- 
bine ;  but  we  could  not  see  them — only  caught  sight  of  a 
white  handkerchief  waving  out  from  behind  the  trellis- 
work. 

The  South  has  much  of  romance,  but  this  was  truly  the 
most  delightful  and  romantic  hour  I  ever  enjoyed.  All 
was  the  very  sleep  of  stillness ;  nothing  heard  but  the 
most  delightful  singing,  or  the  music  of  the  guitar  filling 
up  the  pauses  in  the  song,  or  its  light  touches,  blending 
with  its  strains.  The  party  sang  three  or  four  songs,  then 
we  silently  floated  away,  singing  some  appropriate  piece. 

What  was  very  amusing,  as  we  laid  by  the  shore  seren- 
ading, was  to  see  the  negroes  peeping  out  from  their  cabins, 
hard  by,  and  some  stealing  out  and  peering  round  the  cor- 
ners of  their  houses,  or,  the  more  bold  approaching  nearer 
and  looking  over  the  fence  at  us. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  165 

Let  us  change  the  theme  to  our  school.  It  certainly 
deserves  a  notice,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  its  being  the 
termination  of  my  adventures  in  the  South.  My  walk  to 
it — some  over  half  a  mile  along  on  the  bank  of  the  gentle 
Yazoo,  was  pleasantly  shaded  by  fine  trees.  It  was  a  very 
pleasant  walk,  and  I  enjoyed  every  inch  of  it.  There  was 
no  snow  durinar  the  winter — nothino;  but  a  few  disagreeable 
sleet-days,  and  when  the  walking  was  bad,  which  was  made 
so  by  a  little  rain,  I,  if  I  chose,  rode  a-horse-back ;  steam- 
ers passing  and  re-passing  me,  on  my  road  to  and  from 
school.  My  friends,  at  home,  would  scarcely  believe  me, 
should  I  tell  them  that  we  had  beautiful  weather — warm 
and  summer-like  all  January.  During  the  spring  and 
summer  part  of  our  school  term,  the  water  was  so  high  in 
the  Yazoo,  that  it  overflowed  the  banks,  and  we  sailed  to 
school  in  a  skifi* — the  scholars  meeting  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  under  the  willow-oak  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  in  front  of  Willow  Dale,  and  a  negro  rowed  us  down 
stream  to  the  school-house,  and  came  after  us  at  night. 
These  were  delightful  trips,  and  long,  very  long,  shall  I 
remember  them  and  the  "  little  crew"  with  whom  I  enjoyed 
them.  They  were  little  pleasure  excursions  from  the  dull 
and  weary  toil  of  the  school-room.  When  the  weather 
was  hot,  we  would  leave  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and 
sail  beneath  the  shade  of  the  overhanging  willows  at  the 
side.  Writing  of  these  pleasure-trips  brings  to  mind 
many  scenes  and  incidents  connected  with  them. 

Wading  along  in  the  edge  of  the  river,  his  keen  eye  on 
the  watch  for  any  of  the  finny  tribe  that  ventured  near, 
and  ready,  with  a  quick  dart  of  his  long  bill  into  the  water, 
to  seize  and  devour  them ;  or,  sitting  solitary  and  alone 
on  some  old  stub  of  a  tree  leaning  over  the  river,  contem- 
plating the  scene  around  him,  till  on  the  near  approach 
of  our   boat,  he  would  slowly  raise  himself  on  his  broad 


166  JOTTINGS    OF   A   year's 

wings,  and,  as  he  flew  away,  pull  up  his  long  black  legs — 
his  feet  sticking  out  behind  like  a  rudder — and  draw  in 
his  long  neck  like  a  turtle,  leaving  his  head  beaking  to  a 
point  in  a  long,  sharp  bill ;  all  o^  which  being  done  left 
him  about  the  size  of  a  large  white  dove  ;  this  is  the  white 
heron  that  wades  along  the  margin  of  the  Yazoo. 

Occasionally  there  was  rare  sport  for  us,  in  pulling  up 
the  fish-lines  that  the  negroes  had  set  along  the  margin  of 
the  stream,  attached  to  the  limbs  of  the  over-hanging  wil- 
lows. The  twitching  of  the  bough  would  invariably  tell 
us  whether  we  should  haul  up  a  large  buffalo  or  cat-fish 
from  below.  This  not  only  afforded  us  an  a:musement,  on 
our  little -voyage  to  and  from  school,  but  an  enjoyment; 
for  the  nesrroes  never  failed  to  send  in  some  of  the  finest 
of  the  fish  to  their  master,  which  were  prepared  for  our 
table. 

And  here  let  me  trace  a  memory  to  our  oarsman,  Sam, 
for  the  prompt  and  kind  services  he  ever  rendered  us,  and 
for  ability  with  his  dextrous  oars,  in  managing  our  little 
shallop,  plying  them  as  a  bird  her  wings,  in  directing  her 
course ;  here,  avoiding  the  snags,  now,  dodging  the  heavy 
drift-log,  or  the  ponderous  floating  raft ;  or,  darting  to 
the  shore,  as  a  puffing  steamer  came  upon  us ;  then,  with 
a  fearless  oar,  after  it  had  passed,  dashing  out  into  the  surg- 
ing current,  letting  our  little  barque,  with  its  precious 
charge,  mount  over  the  crests,  and  pitch  down  into  the 
depths  of  tumbling  swells. 

And  here  let  me  trace  another  memory  to  him  and  the 
servants  at  Willow  Dale  for  the  very  many  kind  acts  and 
offices  they  have  performed  for  me. 

Our  Academy  is  within  a  stone 's-throw,  by  the  smallest 
scholar,  of  the  Yazoo.  The  river  rolls  along  in  front  of 
it.  Parallel  to  this,  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  is  a  bayou. 
On  this  peninsular  strip  of  land  is   situated   the   school- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  167 

• 

house.  It  is  built  of  gum-logs  hewn  square,  and  instead 
of  being  "  chinked  up,"  it  is  battened  on  the  outside  with 
cypress  boards.  It  has  two  windows,  one  on  each  side. 
The  door  is  in  front,  facing  the  river.  It  has  a  broad 
stone  fire-place,  at  the  opposite  end,  with  a  stick  chimney 
running  up  on  the  outside.  The  floor  is  of  smooth  cypress 
boards.  The  one  overhead  is  of  cypress-shakes  laid  from 
joist  to  joist,  like  battened-work.  Two  strips  of  desk  are 
nailed  against  the  wall,  one  on  each  side  of  the  window, 
on  one  side  ;  on  the  other  side  is  a  movable  desk  of  cypress 
wood,  for  the  teacher.  Four  chairs,  with  cow-hide  bot- 
toms, and  one  with  a  basket  bottom,  and  three  smaller 
ones  for  the  small  children,  with  several  blocks  of  wood, 
sawed-  off  chair-hight,  from  a  gum-log,  are  all  the  seats  we 
had.  There  is  a  mantle-piece  over  the  fire-place,  and 
several  pegs  in  the  logs  on  the  east  side,  to  hang  hats, 
bonnets  and  shawls  on. 

The  house  stands  in  a  beautiful  grove  of  willow-oaks, 
and  from  their  branches  Southern  birds  sansr  their  rounde- 
lays  to  us,  all  winter  long.  The  gum-tree,  the  persimmon, 
hackberry,  and  haw,  were  also  near  it.  No  hollies  and 
magnolias  were  in  sight.  The  long  Spanish  moss  does 
not  hang  so  thick  from  the  trees  in  the  valley,  as  in  the 
up-lands  ;  yet  many  of  its  floating  tresses  waved  from  the 
trees  about  our  school-house. 

My  pupils  were  seven  boys — intelligent,  fine  lads,  three 
of  whom  were  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old,  and  two  tiny 
damoiselles,  one  having  a  little  black  waiting  maid,  who 
attended  her  in  school  and  out. 

This  was  my  school  on  commencing  it ;  a  month  or  two 
later  we  had  three  larger  scholars.  Their  studies  em- 
braced Latin  and  the  higher  English  branches.  In  history 
I  never  saw  a  class  of  scholars,  of  their  age,  that  would 
equal  them.     I  believe  the  South  is  ahead  of  us  in  giving 


168  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

attention  to  this  study.  Are  not  their  Congressmen  better 
informed  in  history  than  ours  ? 

But  to  my  school.  Although  we  had  the  rogue,  it  is 
the  only  school  I  ever  saw  without  a  dunce  in  it. 

At  one  time  the  boys  had  obtained  permission  to  bathe 
in  a  little  bayou  that  the  high  water  had  formed,  a  short 
distance  from  the  school-house.  This  bayou  was  separated, 
by  a  strip  of  land  about  three  rods  wide,  from  another 
larger  and  deeper  one.  Two  of  the  boys  returned,  after 
a  while,  and  wanted  permission  to  go  and  tell  the  overseer 
to  come  and  shoot  the  alligators  in  the  "big  bayou"  on 
the  other  side  of  the  path  from  the  one  in  which  they  had 
been  swimming. 

Startled  at  such  news,  I  called  them  all  in ;  when  they 
informed  me  that  they  did  not  see  the  alligators,  till  they 
had  been  been  bathing  some  time.  They  expressed  no  fear 
from  sporting  in  the  water  near  such  terrible  play-fellows  ; 
merely  wished  to  go  and  inform  the  overseer,  or  song3  of 
the  negroes,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  sport  of  seeing 
them  shot — that's  all. 

It  was  not  a  very  pleasant  thought  to  me,  that,  on  dis- 
missing school  for  the  day,  I  should  miss  two  or  three  of 
our  accustomed  ''good  evenings;"  and  that,  we  should 
miss  two  or  three  of  our  little  crew  in  sailing  home.  And 
it  was  sadder  yet  to  think  that  we  should  have  to  announce 
to  their  parents,  that  they  were  snatched  away  and  de- 
voured by  these  greedy  American  crocodiles. 

But  with  such  brave  pupils,  I  had  no  fears  in  encoun- 
tering the  difficulties  we  should  meet,  in  the  path  of  knowl- 
edge, nor  of  passing  the  "Alps"  and  "  Splugens"  of 
Science. 

We  would  sometimes  keep  the  skiff  with  us,  preferring 
to  row  home  ourselves  at  night,  that  we  might  steal  away 
from  the  school-house,  during  recess  at  noon,  and  forget 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  169 

our  studies  and  books,  in  a  fine  sail  on  the  Yazoo.  We 
always  got  our  lessons  well  and  were  prompt  in  our  attend- 
ance ;  and  when  recess  came,  had  a  spirit  to  enjoy  it. 
Nothing  delighted  me  more  than  to  see  my  pupils  revel  in 
the  enjoyment  of  their  play-hours.  They  always  studied 
the  best  after  them.  On  the  other  hand,  had  we  been  ex- 
acting and  overtasked  them,  and  not  allowed  them  a  full 
pastime — a  suitable  relaxation — an  unbending  from  hard 
and  wearying  study,  we  would  not  have  had  that  cheerful- 
ness and  eager  desire  to  learn  among  our  little  set. 

How  truthfully  and  eloquently  the  school-boy  has  ex- 
pressed his  dislike  to  being  a  little  pent-up  prisoner  with 
his  "  slates  and  books,"  in  that  purgatory  of  his — a  school- 
house. 

"Mother,  I  am  •wild  for  pleasure  ! 

No  bright  angel  o'er  dull  books  pores, 
Science  and  learning  are  school-walls'  treasures, 

God  and  beauty  are  out  of  doors," 

Taking  our  boat-ride,  one  day,  down  the  stream  from 
our  little  Academy,  we  met  a  steamer,  and  rowed  out  from 
the  river  into  a  little  cove  of  a  bayou,  and  there,  beneath 
overhanging  willows,  we  sat  and  watched  the  steamboat 
passing  up  stream,  while  the  surging  swells  almost  tossed 
our  little  craft  out  of  water.  We  then  ventured  out  riding 
the  billows — and  finally  came  to  a  fine  place  to  land, 
where  we  moored  our  boat,  and  went  a-shore. 

I  left  the  pupils  to  ramble  out  in  the  woods  after  berries 
and  wild  flowers,  while  I  went  over  into  an  adjacent  cot- 
ton-field, where  the  negroes  were  at  work,  thickly  scattered 
all  over  the  field,  some  ploughing  and  some  hoeing. 

The  overseer,  a  young  man  with  an  intelligent  look, 
seeing  me,  came  up,  and  gave  me  something  of  the  history 
of  raising  cotton.     It  was  up  some  fom^  or  five  inches  high, 


170  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

looking  like  thrifty  rows  of  beans,  sown  in  drills,  with  dif- 
ferent shaped  and  richer  leaves.  The  field  was  perfectly 
clean — not  a  weed  could  be  seen  in  it. 

Seeing  a  wench  ploughing,  I  asked  him  if  they  usually 
held  the  plough.  He  replied  that  they  often  did  ;  and 
that  this  girl  did  not  like  to  hoe,  and,  she  being  a  faithful 
hand,  they  let  her  take  her  choice. 

Returning  to  the  school-house,  we  saw  an  alligator  sun- 
ning himself  on  a  log.  At  sight  of  us  he  dove  into  the 
water,  and  soon  came  up  in  another  place,  just  showing 
his  head.  We  threw  sticks  at  him  and  he  swam  off.  He 
was  some  six  or  eight  feet  long.  We  often  saw  these 
laziest  of  all  animals,  dozing  and  basking  in  the  summer 
sunshine,  on  old  logs  in  the  bayous,  doing  nothing  but 
snoozing  their  life  away. 

The  advantage  of  teaching  here,  whether  in  the  ''  old- 
field"  schools — the  common  school  South,  or  as  tutor  in  a 
planter's  family,  or  in  the  academies,  is,  you  have  a  less 
number  of  scholars,  and  more  time  to  devote  to  each  study. 
The  teacher  has  not  got  time,  he  cannot  stop  long  enough 
by  the  way.  North,  to  do  anything  like  justice  to  the  vari- 
ous branches  he  pretends  to  teach. 

Take  one  exercise  for  example — that  of  reading.  The 
class  should  not  only  be  "  taught  to  read  in  that  graceful 
and  agreeable  manner  that  will  make  them  fond  of  read- 
ing, hut  to  make  tliem  understand  ivliat  they  read,  and  dis- 
cover the  beauties  of  the  author,  in  composition  and  senti- 
ment.'' 

We  think  in  words,  and  pupils  that  only  get  the  words 
get  the  mere  husks  of  ideas.  This  makes  dull  scholars. 
And  the  reason  they  are  dull,  is,  they  derive  no  more  sat- 
isfaction from  the  lesson,  than  they  would  in  cracking  nuts 
without  having  the  pleasure  of  eating  the  meats.  When 
I  see  a  school-boy  whining  and  complaining  over  his  hard 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  171 

lesson,  it  reminds  me  of  the  squirrel  that  had  unfortunately 
got  a  hard  nut,  and  was  observed  to  nibble  away  at  it 
while  the  big  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

Much  to  the  credit  of  our  patrons,  we  mention  the  very 
pleasant  visits  we  have  received  from  them  in  our  school, 
and  from  their  ladies  and  friends. 

We  think  the  little  Southron,  on  the  whole,  an  interest- 
ing student,  and  we  must  say  that  we  have  ever  been 
pleased  with  the  deportment  of  children  in  planters'  fam- 
ilies ;  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  walk  along  the  streets  in  a 
Southern  town,  and  witness  the  well-behaved  conduct  of 
children.  You  hear  no  swearing — no  vulgar  language. 
You  see  no  vagrant  boys — no  wicked  little  urchins  ;  noth- 
ing but  the  lively  pranks  and  shouts  and  prattle  of  well- 
dressed  children. 


-♦-♦- 


CHAPTER   XYII. 


FRAGMENTS 


"  Walk  through  the  garden  to  the  wall  of  rock 

Beyond  ; — there,  in  a  smoky,  dark  recess, 

Hangs  an  old  lamp  of  copper  ; — being  me  that. 

I  am  a  virtuoso  in  such  matters, 

A  great  collector  of  old  odds  and  ends  ; 

And  so  the  lamp,  worthless  enough  to  others. 

Has  an  imaginary  worth  to  me." 

CEhlexschlager. 


172  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 


A   CHESTERFIELD   OF   A   LANDLORD. 

'<  Whoe'er  has  traveled  earth's  dull  round, 

"Where'er  his  stages  may  have  been, 
"Will  sigh  to  think  he  still  has  found 

His  warmest  welcome  at  an  Inn."  ' 

Shexstone. 

Mr.  M.,  late  of  Vicksburgh,  now  of  Monticello,  Missis- 
sippi, is  a  landlord  with  an  exceedingly  popular  reputa- 
tion. Such  landlords  should  be  multiplied  all  over  the 
country,  not  enough  to  "  stale  their  presence,"  but  so  that 
the  way-worn  traveler  should  find  here  and  there  in  the 
dull  round  of  his  pilgrimage  one  of  those  delightful  '^  Lo- 
rettoes" — a  way-side  Inn.  But  Nature  bestows  her  choic- 
est gifts  rarely.  Hence  a  Chesterfieldian  landlord  like 
Mr.  M.,  is  a  gift  for  which  the  country  cannot  be  too 
grateful. 

Mr.  M.,  on  receiving  guests  had  a  certain  prelude  of 
civilities  to  bestow  upon  them.  He  treated  every  man  as 
if  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  every  gentleman  as  if  he  was 
a  lady,  and  every  lady — a  la  Dutchess. 

A  traveler  arrived  at  his  hospitable  Inn,  one  day,  on 
whom  he  bestowed,  as  he  stepped  out  of  the  omnibus,  his 
usual  round  of  blandishments.  He  was  then  shoAvn  his 
room,  where  our  courteous  host  soon  appeared,  to  inquire 
if  his  guest  did  not  wish  some  kind  act  performed  for  him. 
Being  answered  in  the  negative,  he  politely  bowed  himself 
out.  After  being  the  recipient  of  several  of  these  kind 
visits,  and  getting  wearied  with  their  very  polite  interro- 
gations as  to  his  wants,  our  traveler  finally  told  him  that 
he  wanted  a  servant.  One  was  immediately  rung  in,  when, 
pointing  to  our  affable  host,  with  an  impatient  sternness 
he  commanded  the  servant  to  take  that  onan  out  of  his 
room  and  put  him  ivhere  he  ivould  not  molest  him  any  more. 


SOJOUHN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  173 

When  Mr.  M.  was  the  favorite  landlord  of  Jackson,  the 
capital  of  Mississippi,  the  members  of  the  Legislature  usu- 
ally boarded  with  him.  But  while  officiating  as  their  kind 
host,  he,  contrary  to  his  usual  practice  of  having  his  bills 
of  fare  printed,  wrote  them  off,  and  read  them  at  the  head 
of  the  table.  Being  asked  about  this  singular  movement, 
he  replied  that  it  was  useless  to  print  the  bills,  ''/or  the 
memhers  of  the  Legislature  couldnt  read.'' 

THE  NEGROES   AND   THE   BEES. 

I 

"As  bees 

In  spring  time,  when  the  sun  with  Taurus  rides, 

Pour  forth  their  populous  youth  about  the  hiye^ 

In  clusters ;  they  among  fresh  dews  and  flowers 

Fly  to  and  fro  :  or  on  the  smoothed  plank. 

The  suburb  of  their  straw-built  citadel, 

New  rubbed  with  balm,  expatiate  and  confer 

Their  state  affairs." 

Milton. 

Though  it  was  on  the  Sabbath,  it  was  deemed  expedi- 
ent to  save  a  very  large  swarm  of  bees  that  had  just  taken 
wing  from  one  of  the  old  hives,  and  begun  to  settle  in  two 
different  places,  on  a  nectarine-tree,  till  they  hung  like  a 
couple  of  huge  pine-apples  from  its  boughs. 

We  were  out  in  the  door-yard  with  some  of  the  in- 
mates of  Willow  Dale  when  we  discovered  this  rare  fruit 
hanging  from  the  tree,  upon  which  Mr.  P.  ordered  two  or 
three  of  his  negroes  to  gather  them,  and  put  them  in  a  new 
hive.  The  negroes  soon  came  out  with  their  heads  and 
hands  muffled  up — accoutered  for  the  task,  and  began  the 
work  of  hiving  them.  The  attempt  met  with  some  vindic- 
tive sorties  from  the  bees,  until  one  of  the  negroes,  con- 
trary to  the  express  orders  not  to  make  any  hostile  dem- 
onstrations, began  to  brush  about  his  head,  when — 


174  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

"  Alarmed  at  this  the  little  crew, 
About  his  ears  vindictive  flew." 

At  which  the  other  negroes  began  to  box  and  brush 
about  their  heads,  till  a  warm  contest  arose  that  resulted 
in  the  expulsion  of  the  negroes  from  the  ground. 

After  waiting  for  the  bees  to  calm  down,  a  second  trial 
was  made  by  the  courageous  servants  to  hive  them  ; — each 
carrying  now  a  bush  in  his  hand  with  which  to  defend 
himself.  By  this  time  the  family,  as  spectators  to  this 
scene,  were  all  out  in  the  front  grounds  about  the  house, 
looking  on  at  a  distance.  It  was  not  long  before  hostilities 
were  begun  by  the  bees,  and  which  were  soon  returned  by 
the  negrOes  who  were  determined  to  stand  their  ground, 
as  conquerors  in  a  contest,  where  the  eyes  of  their  mas- 
ter and  mistress  with  their  whole  household  were  upon 
them.  But  the  bees  in  frantic  fury  soon  beset  them ; 
when  one  of  the  more  timid  ran  with  a  halo  of  them  about 
his  head,  brushing  and  plunging  among  the  dense  leaves 
and  stalks  of  the  corn-field. 

Another  ran  towards  us,  to  whom  Mr.  P.  cried  out — 
' '  Dont  come  this  way  !  dont  come  this  ivay  V  The  poor  ne- 
gro, in  distress,  little  heeded  the  command,  but  on  he  came, 
switching  and  brushing  himself,  scattering  the  bees  among 
us,  which  sent  several  of  the  ladies  screaming  into  the  house, 
w^ith  a  bevy  of  them  buzzing  about  their  heads.  Another, 
like  a  mad  ox,  shouting  and  bellowing  with  pain,  ran  into 
the  bushes  and  shrubs  in  the  yard,  head-foremost,  to  rid 
himself  of  half  a  swarm  of  these  furies. 

But  poor  Sam,  the  last  to  leave  the  field,  fought 
with  unparalleled  heroism,  till  he  was  commanded  to  re- 
treat; — when,  hotly  besieged,  he  first  "boused"  among 
the  shrubs  and  bushes,  then  rolled  on  the  ground — 

"  Half  blind  with  rage  and  mad  with  pain." 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  175 

Yet   the  little  ringed  demons  beset  him  in  countless 
numbers.    The  family,  and  the  other  slaves  became  alarmed 
for  him ;  some  running  up  to  him  and  essaying  to  brush  them 
off;    still  they  seemed  "to  gather  thicker;"    when  some 
one  cried  out — "  The  jnimp,  Sam  !   the  pump!''     He  was 
there  in  an  instant,  and  half  throwing  himself  under  the 
spout,  the  stream  was  sent  gushing  over  him.    But  not  long  ; 
the  remaining  part  of  the  swarm,  in  maddened  fury,  now 
turned  out,  and  furiously  joining  in  the  attack,  drove  them 
all  from  the  pump.  Poor  Sam,  nearly  victimized,  got  up  and 
ran  for  his  life,  among  the  rose-trees   and  shrubs  again  ; 
jumped  over  the  fence,  and,  as  we  thought,  was  going  to 
take  the  road,  and  make  a  desperate  push  for  freedom.    But 
he  was  wiser.     The  next  instant  we  heard  a — "  souze,''  and 
looking  over  the  fence,  in  the  direction  of  the  sound — we 
saw  Sam  buried  in  the  Yazoo.     Here,    at   least,  he  had 
rid   himself    of   these   furious    "imps."      But — mirahile 
dictu  !  as  he  raised  his  head  above  the  water,  the  little  de- 
mons  that  had   hovered  over  it,  flew  at  him  frantic  and 
vengeful,  till  by  repeated  "  duckings"  he  tired  and  drowned 
them  out." 

THE   NORTH. 

In  a  chat  with  some  of  our  Southern  friends  to-day,  on 
the  North,  we  assured  them  that  the  North,  like  the  South, 
could  not  be  told.  To  get  an  idea  of  the  real  North  one 
mAist  visit  the  winter  quarters  of  old  Hiems,  where  the  old 
Borean  Hero  sits  on  his  hilly  throne,  with  the  "  stone  before 
the  door  of  the  imprisoned  winds,"  and  winter's  frosts,  and 
cold,  and  wrath,  and  storms,  pent  up  within  its  vast  cav- 
ern, ready  to  let  them  out  as  the  fit  takes  him.  The  North 
was  in  that  region,  with  her  Hurons  and  Eries,  where 


176  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"  Strong  Niagara's  thunder, 
Wakes  the  echoes  of  the  world." 

Though  not  applying  to  the  above,  yet  the  following  we 
trace  here  as  a  hon-mot  of  one  of  the  female  servants  of 
Willow  Dale. 

Towards  night-fall,  to-day,  after  I  had  had  a  lively  con- 
versation with  Mrs.  P.  and  Miss  Nell  T.,  of  Michigan,  in 
which  we  told  stories  and  engaged  in  bon-mots,  I  remem- 
ber this  punning  fling  at  the  North  from  Martha,  one  of 
Mrs.  P.'s  servants. 

On  arising  from  our  chat,  I  went  to  the  side-board,  in 
the  hall,  to  get  a  glass  of  water,  but  found  the  pitcher  that 
usually  sat  on  it,  in  a  temperature  of  "ninety  degrees," 
and  the  water  in  the  pitcher — not  an  iota  below  it. 

I  called  the  servant  above-named,  and  told  her  to  get  a 
pitcher  of  cold  water  if  there  was  any  in  the  well.  She 
took  the  pitcher  and  remarked  as  she  left  the  hall,  "  Yes, 
I  will  get  it  from  the  part  you  love — from  the  cold  North 


corner." 


At  which  Mrs.  P.  remarked,  "  You  must  send  that  to 
Harper's  Drawer."  As  I  was  not  a  contributor  to 
Harper's  Journal,  I  placed  it  then  in  my  own,  and  now 
it  is  traced  on  the  imperishable  (?)  pages  of  this  book,  where 
it  will  be  read,  no  doubt,  when  the  hon-mots  of  the  last 
Harper  will  be  forgotten. 

ONE  DAY  IN  A  PANTOMIMIC  WORLD. 

"  These,  0  ye  quacks,  these  are  your  remedies." 

Corn-Law  Rhymes. 

On  going  down  stairs  to  breakfast  this  morning,  I  could 
not  hear  my  gaiters  squeak.  They  surely  did  last  night. 
This  was  strange.     Having  seated  myself  in  the  sitting- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  177 

« 

room,  Miss  T.  came  in,  and,  as  it  appeared  afterwards, 
spoke  to  me,  and  wondered  why  I  did  not  answer  her ; 
still  more  when  she  saw  me  looking  ^  her,  and  yet  re- 
mainincr  silent.  Mr.  P.  came  fti  with  the  usual  mornincr 
salutation,  and  afterwards  spoke  to  me  in  a  high  pitch  of 
voice,  yet  I  said  nothing.     This  was  passing  strange. 

They  soon  arose  and  beckoned  me  into  breakfast.  The 
bell  had  rung,  and  I  had  not  heard  it.  At  breakfast  I  ate 
in  silence ;  not  the  least  noise  could  I  hear.  There  was 
no  sound  to  the  knife  and  fork,  or  dishes  ;  the  foot  of  the 
servant  trod  the  floor — a  step  without  a  sound.  All  at 
table  talked  as  usual,  but  no  voice  was  heard.  I  had  never 
sat  at  so  still  a  breakfast-table  in  my  life.  Chairs  moved — 
servants  pass  around  us,  in  and  out  the  d^ors — opening 
and  shutting  them  ;  the  family  came,  sat,  chatted,  and  ate, 
and  went  again  ;  yet  they  had  a  charmed  presence  ;  they 
came  and  went  in  silence.  Where  was  I  ?  Yesterday  I 
was  here  and  heard  sounds  to  it  all.  To-day  everything 
was  the  same — yet  how  changed  to  me  !  I  saw  motions ' 
but  heard  nothing.  I  was  in  a  pantomimic  world.  I 
was  deaf.  I  went  to  the  door  and  looked  out — there  was 
this  beautiful  world  of  ours,  without  a  sound  in  it.  The 
birds  were  voiceless  in  the  trees — the  trees  without  their 
rustling  leaf-music ;  the  river  went  murmuring  on  in  si- 
lence ;  the  steamers  went  puffing,  splashing  and  whistling 
by,  sending  the  waves  dashing  to  the  shore ;  yet  no  sound 
was  heard.  As  I  walked  out,  Kollo  and  Bet  ran  baying 
to  the  gate  at  a  strange  negro  passing  by.  I  never  heard 
them  bark  so  still  before. 

And  as  I  returned,  old  chanticleer  came  strutting  by 
the  door — raised  his  head,  threw  it  back,  braced  out, 
opened  his  mouth,  flapped  his  wings — and — that's  all. 
^'  Mirahile  dictii!  vox  hcesit  infaucibus! 

The  turkeys  went  parading  around  the  yard,  spreading 

M 


178  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

their  tails,  lowering  their  wings,  and  cutting  their  circling 
'' swells,"  as  usual;  but  instead  of  gobbling,  thej  were 
gulping  down  moutnfuls  of  thin  air. 

But  while  I  stood  in  the  porch  leaning  my  head  against 
one  of  its  posts,  and  musing  on  what  occurred  around  me, 
there  were  some  sounds  that  I  was  not  sorry  to  miss. 
Rollo  in  his  gambols  about  the  yard  had -routed  a  bevy  of 
Guinea  hens  ;  they,  as  mad  as  hornets,  flew  up  into  a  China- 
tree,  fluttered  about,  went  into  hysterics,  and  poured 
down  upon  him  a  vindictive  tirade  of  harsh  notes.  I  did 
not  regret  that  I  did  not  hear  them. 

With  a  sad  step  I  walked  into  the  house.  All  that  was 
in-doors,  and  out-doors,  was  without  sound.  The  prattle, 
and  laugh,  and»  shout  of  the  children  at  play  about  the 
house,  I  could  not  listen  to  and  enjoy.  Even  little  DiDDY 
went  whistling  through  the  hall,  and  I  did  not  hear  him. 

I  was  deaf.  Thus  sadly  I  passed  the  whole  day,  a  day 
in  which  all  about  me  was  still  and  silent  as  death.  My 
foot-steps  were  so  noiseless  that  I  seemed  to  walk  in  air. 
Whatever  I  touched  refused  to  give  a  sound ;  and  wherev- 
er I  went,  it  fled  from  me,  as  the  ghost  of  Achille's  fa- 
ther fled  his  approach  in  Hades.  There  was  no  voice  to 
anything  living,  nor  could  anything  inanimate  be  made  to 
give  a  sound.  I  at  last  tried  my  own  voice — that  too  had 
lost  its  sound !  I  gave  up.  I  went  to  my  couch  and 
laid  down.  What  my  thoughts  were  I  never  can  tell.  I 
remember  this  impressed  my  mind — all  that  I  had  ever 
heard  in  this  beautiful  world — 

'*  From  the  vernal  showers 
On  the  twinkling  grass," — 

to  all  that  was  joyous,  and  sweet,  and  musical,  was  now 
silent  to  me.  Oh  !  you  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  hear  un- 
til you  have  been  deaf ! 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  179 

But  jou  would  know  the  cause  of  this  deafness?  Eighteen 
grains  of  quim7ie.  I  had  had  an  attack  of  the  Southern 
fever,  and  my  physician  gave  me  quinine  plentifully.  It 
often  has  this  effect,  and  sometimes  injures  the  hearing  for 
life.  With  me  it  was  only  for  a  day.  I  rejoiced  the  next 
morning  to  hear,  once  more,  old  chanticleer's 

"Cottage-rousing  crow." 

WILLOW  DALE  IN  A  RAIN-SHOWER. 

"We  knew  it  would  rain,  for  all  the  morn, 

A  spirit,  on  slender  ropes  of  mist. 
Was  lowering  its  golden  buckets  down 
•  Into  the  vapory  amethyst, 

Of  marshes,  and  swamps,  and  dismal  fens — 
Scooping  the  dew  that  lay  in  the  flowers  ; 
Dipping  the  jewels  out  of  the  sea, 

To  sprinkle  them  over  the  land  in  showers." 

Aldkich. 

I  love  to  sit  by  my  w^indow  and  look  out  into  this  fine 
shower  of  rain.  We  have  had  a  series  of  them  to-day. 
Yesterday  I  was  quite  unwell,  but  to-day  I  feel  the  full 
revivingness  of  these  showers,  as  well  as  the  "  babbling 
fields  of  green." 

And  I  love  to  sit  by  my  window,  and  look  out  upon  the 
rich-leafed  trees  about  the  house,  so  lately  waving  in  the 
breeze,  but  now  standing  with  their  graceful  tops  rain- 
bowed  and  motionless.  The  tall  Lombardy  poplars,  with 
their  crests  of  plumes,  lately  nodding  in  the  breeze,  bend- 
ing over  their  beautiful  heads,  dripping  with  rain.  The 
aspen  is  twinkling  and  sparkling  with  rain-drops  that 
strike  its  leaves  and  glance  off  in  glittering  sheen.  The 
China-tree  is  turning  off,  from  strata  to  strata  of  its  feath- 
ery foliage,  little  gushing  streams  of  rain  that  come 
dashing  on  the  ground ;  and  from  bough  to  bough  of  the 


180  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

dingy,  broad-leafed  mulberry,  it  falls  in  little  cascades. 
The  althse  and  mimosa  are  cascatelles,  and  the  rose-bushes 
— bubbling  fountains  of  rain.  The  innumerable  cotton- 
rows  are  all  dripping,  the  vast  corn-field  gurgling,  the 
grass  twinkling,  and  the  river  is  all  a-bubble  with  rain. 

The  rain  continued  to  fall  all  night  in  copious  showers, 
till  I  retired  to  rest.  Then  I  laid  and  listened  to  the 
drowsy  poetry  of  the  rain  pattering  on  the  roof. 

"  When  the  humid  storm-clouds  gather 

O'er  all  the  stormy  spheres, 
And  the  melancholy  weather 

Weeps  in  rainy  tears," 
There's  a  joy  to  press  the  pillow, 

Of  a  cottage-chamber  bed.  • 

And  listen  to  the  patter 

Of  the  soft  rain  over  head. 
Every  tinkle  on  the  shingles 
Finds  an  echo  in  the  heart, 
■   And  a  thousand  dreamy  fancies 
Into  busy  being  start. 
And  a  thousand  recollections 
Weave  their  bright  hues  into  woof. 
As  I  listen  to  the  murmur 

Of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof. 
Then  in  fancy  comes  my  mother 

As  she  did  in  days  a-gone, 
To  survey  her  infant  sleepers, 

Ere  she  left  them  till  the  dawn. 
I  can  see  her  bending  o'er  me, 

As  I  listen  to  the  strain, 
Play'd  upon  the  shingles 
By  the  patter  of  the  rain." 


THE   LONG-EXPECTED  VISIT. 

"  Soft  watch  him  now  the  while  he  opes  the  packet ; 

'Tis  from  that  far-off-land  he  calls  his  home. 
And  there  is  that  within  will  touch  him  nearly." 

Some  Poet. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  181 

I  had  been  some  months  in  this  Southern  land,  and 
during  the  while  had  not  seen  one  ''familiar  face" 
from  the  "  land  of  the  mountain  and  lakes."  And  some- 
times, a  few  months  with  us  are  a  long  period.  Nothing  but 
letters  from  home  and  my  correspondents.  But  it  had  been 
quite  a  long  time  since  I  had  even  received  a  letter.  A 
lady  friend — Miss  T.,  of  Michigan,  had  been  promised, 
and  we  had  been  expecting  her  a  long  while ;  she  was 
"due,"  and  waited  for,  as  teacher,  in  Mrs.  C.'s  school  at 
Wallachebogue. 

This  morning,  while  conversing  w^ith  Mrs.  P.  in  the  sit- 
ting-room, she  asked  me  when  I  supposed  my  friend  from 
the  North  would  be  with  them.  I  replied  that  I  could  not 
tell ;  she  might  not  come  at  all,  as  the  time  for  her  arrival 
had  passed. 

She  then  asked  me  to  describe  her ;  which  being  done, 
she  thought  I  was  not  exactly  correct,  because  she  had 
seen  a  young  lady  from  the  North,  this  morning,  who  had 
given  her  a  more  truthful  description  of  Miss  T.,  and  who, 
having  stood  in  the  hall  during  the  while,  listening  to  our 
conversation,  now  presented  herself  at  the  door,  in  whom 
I  recognized  an  old  Northern  friend.  She  informed  me 
that  she  had  lately  seen  our  mutual  friend.  Miss  T.,  and 
that  she  had  now  given  up  the  idea  of  coming  South.  But 
she  was  like  "Miss  Capulet,"  id  est — names  made  no 
difference  with  her,  she  would,  with  our  consent,  pass  for 
Miss  T. ;  then  there  would  be  nothing  lacking,  for  she 
would  try  and  make  her  proxy  visit  at  Willow  Dale  equal 
to  the  one  we  had  been  anticipating.  The  proposal  was 
accepted,  and  we  went  in  to  breakfast. 

We  informed  our  friend,  at  table,  that  she  was  now  eat- 
ing the  same  hoe-cake  and  corn-dodger,  of  which  Uncle 
Tom  and  the  immortal  Topsy  had  once  eaten  ;  of  the  same 
corn-bread  and  bacon  that  old  Tiff  found  by  the  way-side  ; 


182  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

and  "svliicli  he  thoiiizht,  ELUAii-liko,  the  ravens  liad  brouorht 
him  ;  and  that  after  breakfast  Ave  would  not  only  show  her 
Uncle  Tom's  and  Tiff's  Cabins,  but  the  very  identical 
Uncle  Tom,  Tiff  and  Topsy  themselves.  She  was  really 
in  the  land  of  heroes,  fiction  and  romance. 

Breakfast  over,  we  took  a  walk  out  into  the  irarden  and 
about  the  fjrounds.  Evervthino:  seemed  so  novel,  beauti- 
ful  and  tropical ;  so  fresh,  fragrant  and  blooming,  to  her, 
just  from  the  cold,  leafless  and  tuneless  April  of  the  North  ; 
that  it  was  like  coming  from  the  scenes  in  the  ''  Winter's 
Tale,"  to  those  of  '' Mid-Summer  Night's  Dream." 

I  asked  her  if  I  had  not  been  fulsome  in  my  description 
of  Southern  shrubs  and  roses. 

*'No;  no.  I  certainly  had  not.  The  roses  were  more 
luxuriant  and  of  greater  variety  than  ours.  0,  they  were 
perfect,  radiant  beauties  !" 

Leaving  this  scene,  we  mentioned  something  about  go- 
ing to  the  "gin-house."  She  looked  at  me  somewhat  sur- 
prised, and  seemed  to  say,  "What  can  he  mean?" 

Guessing  the  little  dilemma  that  her  mind  was  in,  I 
told  her  I  had  not  invited  her  to  the  ''gin-shop,"  but  to 
the  "gin-house,"  where  they  separated  the  cotton-seed 
from  the  cotton.     0  yes,  she  would  go  there. 

We  passed  by  the  negro-quarters,  but  not  without  my 
fair  friend's  sending  many  an  inquiring  look  and  glimpse, 
through  the  doors  and  windows,  into  these  abodes.  We 
pointed  out  the  celebrated  "  Cabins"  above-mentioned,  and 
their  owners,  and  showed  her  little  Topsy  playing  with 
some  negro  boys  and  girls.  We  went  on,  getting  the  key 
of  the  overseer  as  we  passed  by  his  house,  and  went 
through  the  "gin-house."  But  I  must  waive,  or  the  read- 
er will,  I  hope,  a  description  of  it.  Imagine  a  large  barn, 
hip-roofed,  sitting  on  naked  posts  some  ten  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  as  for  the    ^^gin-stantr' — I  never  could  de- 


SOJOUEX    IN    THE    SOUTH.  183 

scribe  a  machine,  it  is  worse  than  sohing  a  hard  problem 
in  Mathematics. 

Our  "Miss  Capulet"  stayed  with  us  several  days,  en- 
joying Southern  society  very  much  at  Willow  Dale.     Dur-' 
ins.  her  ^'isit  several  of  the  vouncr  ladies  and  crentlemen  in 
the  neighborhood  came  in  to  see  her. 

"We  took  a  steamer,  at  our  landing,  and  sailed  up  the 
river  to  Yazoo  City,  where  Mr.  C.  found  the  long-ex- 
pected  Miss  T.,  of  Michigan,  with  whom,  in  his  fine  car- 
riaore.  she  went  home,  to  teach  in  his  lady's  school  at  Wal- 
lachebogue. 

It  was  the  Sabbath.  Thinking  to  hear  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Marshall,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  I  remained 
in  town,  stopping  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  F.  B.,  a  very 
wealthy  merchant  in  this  citv,  and  brother  to  one  of  the 
patrons  of  oui-  academy.  The  house,  though  not  of  itself 
costly,  is  embowered  in  the  leafy  luxury  of  the  tropics. 
There  was  a  wealth  of  trees  and  shrubs,  and  a  skill  and 
taste  displayed  in  arrancrincr-and  trimmincr  them  that  we 
had  nowhere  seen  in  this  clime.  And  among  our  memo- 
ries of  this  pleasant  land,  none  afford  us  more  pleasure 
than  our  visits  at  this  delicrhtful  rural  retreat :  and  with 
them  will  not  be  forgotten  the  politeness  and  kind  atten- 
tion with  which  we  were  ever  treated  bv  ^Ir.  B.  and  his 
lady. 

Mr.  B.  was  unavoidably  called  away  as  we  came  in. 
The  room  was  elegantly  furnished.  A  small,  though  costly 
b<4ok-case  contained  splendidly  bound  volumes,  and  the 
walls  were  ornamented  with  rich  family  paintings.  While 
waiting  here  for  church-time,  we  conversed  away  the 
pause  between  the  ringing  and  tolling  of  the  bells,  with 
Mrs.  B.,  and  a  niece  of  the  famous  Colonel  Hays,  who 
was  attending  a  lady's-schoolin  this  place,  and  whom  we 
remember  as — pretty,  very. 


184  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Marshall  was  absent ;  hence  we  went 
to  hear  the  Rev.  Mr.  Montgomery  of  the  Presbyterian 
church — a  modest,  wee-steepled,  stone  edifice.  The  con- 
gregation had  abeadj  assembled.  A  very  kind  appearing 
sexton  seated  me  not  far  from  the  door,  on  the  wall-side. 
The  audience  was  two-thirds  ladies ;  and  I  seated  behind 
them.  I  don't  know  why,  it  was  odd  and  wicked  too,  but 
it  occurred  to  me — 

You,  from  this  seat,  will  see  more  of  Southern  bonnets 
than  beauty.  But,  as  Hawthorne  remarks,  "  one  gets  a 
more  picturesque  view — one  of  more  truth  to  nature,  and 
characteristic  tendencies,  and  of  vastly  g;^eater  suggest- 
iveness,  in  the  back  view  of  a  residence  whether  in  the 
town  or  country,  than  in  front.  The  latter  is  always  arti- 
ficial ;  it  is  meant  for  the  world's  eye,  and  is  therefore  a 
veil  and  concealment.  Realities  keep  in  the  rear,  and  put 
forward  an  advance  guard  of  show." 

I  think  my  view,  from  this  seat,  was  more  picturesque. 
I  found  that  out,  at  times,  as  I  got  a  glance  at  the  front 
of  the  "edifices;"  I  saw  handsomer  bonnets  than  faces. 
But  generally,  the  "front  views"  in  our  churches  are  not 
only  artificial,  but  rather  picturesque — "meant  for  the 
world's  eye." 

"Oh,  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us, 
To  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us  ! 
It  wad  frae  many  a  blunder  tree  us 

And  foolish  notion  ; 
"What  airs  in  dress  an'  gait  wad  lea  'e  us 

And  ev'n  Devotion!" 

Rev.  Mr.  M.  is  a  man  of  fair  oratorical  powers.  His 
sermon  had  a  completeness  that  one  does  not  often  find. 
You  admired  it  as  a  finished  discourse,  as  well  as  for  its 
truths  of  deep  meaning,  ai^d  instruction  enforced  by  the 
emphasis  of  true  piety  and  religion. 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  185 

The  singing,  I  remember,  was  miscellaneous.  I  dislike 
this  way  of  singing  by  the  church  en  masse,  despite  Ward 
Beecher  and  his  entire  church  choir.  Singing  in  church, 
besides  being  worship,  is  a  musical  entertainment.  But 
where  all  sing,  there  is  no  audience  to  be  entertained-— 
none  to  listen.  I  would  as  soon  wish  that  everybody  could 
sing,  and  that  would  be  extremely  absurd,  if  not  awful,  as 
to  encourage  entire  church  singing.  I  am  no  singer.  I 
sometimes  doubt,  with  Hugh  Miller,  whether  there  is  any 
such  a  thing  as  a  tune.  But  yet,  "  of  all  noises,  music  is 
the  least  disagreeable  to  me."  In  fact,  as  a  listener,  I 
think  I  am  gifted.  I  enjoy  good  singing  hugely.  But  a 
miscellaneous — seventy-four-by-fifty-feet  choir,  singing  to 
one-or-two,  as  a  solitary  audience,  is  like  a  "forty-parson- 
power"  employed  in  preaching  to  the  same  solitary  one- 
or-two. 

Towards  night  a  servant  brought  me  a  horse  and  saddle 
from  Willow  Dale,  and  I  returned,  enjoying  a  pleasant 
horse-back  ride  along  the  banks  of  the  gentle,  willow- 
skirted  Yazoo. 


THE   NEGRO'S   HORSE. 

"  Here  they  come,  leering  and  rearing, 
Sporting  and  frisking, 
Turning  and  twisting. 

And  frolicking  round ; 
Diving  and  striving. 
Biting  and  fighting, 
Darting  and  parting. 

In  antic  rebound." 

SOUTHEY. 

The  planter  has  been  feeding  his  mules  high,  in  order 
to  have  them  in  good  plight  to  do  his  spring  work.  And, 
by  the  way,  one  word  about  these  animals.     They  are  the 


186  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

hardiest  and  finest  I   ever  saw.     And  besides  his  better 
qualities,  he  is  an  animal  that,  after  a  short  acquaintance, 

"No  one  could  pass  without  remark." 

He  may  carry  you  on  his  back  all  day  long,  "  up  hill 
and  down  dale  ;  through  bush  and  brake,"  safely,  affec- 
tionately, and  without  a  stumble ;  but  if  he  can  get  a 
chance  to  kick  you  at  night,  he  will.  He  is  a  snug,  com- 
pact, hardy,  springy,  frolicsome  animal.  He  surpasses 
the  horse  in  frolicsomeness,  as  much  as  his  master,  the 
jiegro,  does  the  white  man.     He  is  the  negro's  horse. 

This  morning  I  left  some  thirty-five  or  forty,  running, 
careering,  wrestling,  kicking  and  cutting  up  all  manner  of 
extravagant  pranks  on  the  open  lawn,  before  Mr.  P.'s 
mansion. 

I  was  gone,  visiting  at  a  neighboring  planter's,  a  large 
part  of  the  day  ;  and  when  I  returned,  they  were  frolicing 
as  hard  as  ever.  Seeing  me  approach,  some  thirty  .rods 
off,  they  all  started  toward  me,  with  leering  heads  and 
open  mouths,  in  as  furious  an  onset  as  ever  a  troop  of  Don 
Cossacks  charged  an  enemy.  Had  not  my  horse  been  ac- 
customed to  them,  I  should  certainly  have  considered  my- 
self in  great  danger.  But  he  was  less  molested  by  them 
than  by  the  flies  that  were  buzzino;  about  and  stinirino;  him. 

OUR  NOCTE'S   AMBROSIAN^   AT   WILLOW 

DALE. 

"  Long,  long  tlirough  the  hours,  and  the  night,  and  the  chimes, 
Here  we  talk  of  old  books,  and  old  friends,  and  old  times." 

TUACKERAT. 

During  this  evening,  the  afternoon  here,  previous  to  the 
accustomed  amusements  of  the  latter  part  of  it,  I  had 
fallen  into  one  of  those  moods  in  which  one  cannot  really 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  187 

please  themselves  ;  and  in  which  one  longs  for  something, 
which  is  the  more  unpleasant  from  the  fact  that  you  can- 
not tell  what  that  something  is.  I  used  to  love,  in  such  a 
mood,  to  wander  from  room  to  room  of  the  noble  mansion 
in  Willow  Dale,  all  of  which  had  more  or  less  books  in 
them,  for  Mr.  P.  had  a  large  collection  of  many  a  quaint 
and  rare  old  volume. 

"The  large  cypress  chambers  were  crammed  in  all  nooks, 
With  tattered  old  volumes  and  silly  old  books, 
"With  foolish  old  odds,  and  foolish  old  ends, 
And  various  old  things  from  various,  old  friends." 

I  loved,  I  say,  to  saunter,  at  such  times,  about  the  house, 
reading  by  snatches  from  the  various  books,  till  I  found 
something  that  pleased  me,  then  take  the  volume  and  re- 
tire to  some  poetic  corner  and  read. 

To-day  the  volume  that  satisfied  this  longing  was  a  book 
of  reminiscences  of  the  last  sixty-five  years,  by  a  Mr. 
Thomas.  I  had  been  reading  in  this  while  the  rest  of  the 
company  were  at  wdiist ;  till,  the  latter  growing  dull,  we 
all  changed  and  took  up  a  topic  of  conversation  that  finally 
led  to  books  and  authors  ;  when  one  of  the  party  instantly 
declared  for  Bulwer,  one  for  Scott,  another  for  G.  P.  R. 
James,  and  I  for  Hawthorne.  Bulwer  first  came  upon 
the  "  tapis."  He  w^as  handled  by  some  of  the  ladies  rather 
"  tartar ly. ' '  I  believe  the  last  shaft,  and  the  one  that  "  pin- 
ned him  to  the  wall,"  was  hurled  by  a  young  lady;  "a 
friend  of  hers  had  read  his  novels,  '  drugged'  with  exciting 
sentiment,  till  she  was  afraid  of  them." 

Scott,  nobody  disliked ;  his  wizzard  pen  charmed  all. 

James,  some  were  fond  of;  he  surely  had  written 
enough.  But,  volume  for  volume,  Scott  would  long  out- 
live him. 

Hawthorne — I  remember  the  first  time  I  saw  his  name 


188  JOTTINGS    OP   A   year's 

in  print.  I  thought  of  Hawksworth  and  the  okl  English 
classic  writers.  I  could  not  make  him  seem  of  our  day, 
and  really  thought  him  a  cotemporary  with  Shenstone 
and  Thompson. 

Some  did  not  like  him,  he  was  too  correct  in  style — did 
not  unbend  enough — nature  was  not  unloosed  of  her  stays 
— he  wanted  a  little  more  freshness — something  of  the 
'^abandon,"  or  carelessness  of  unstudied  nature  about  his 
style. 

We  could  not  help  acknowledging  the  truth  of  these 
remarks,  but  yet  liked  Hawthorne  ;  for  we  have,  more 
or  less,  in  him,  the  style  of  the  old  English  essayist  re-pro- 
duced. 

Cooper,  at  the  mention  of  his  name  we  thought  univer- 
sal praise  would  follow  ;  yet  one  of  the  party  said  she  dis- 
liked him ;  she  must  be  pardoned  for  saying  so.  She  gav-e 
him  genius,  but  that  did  not  make  her  like  his  books. 

Cooper  is  our  Scott,  writing  of  the  feudal  days,  and 
brusque  chivalry  of  American  Indian  life. 

But  Longfellow,  the  same  lady  thought  one  of  our 
finest  poets.  Some  one  replied  that  i^oeta  nascitur  non 
jit  had  been  applied  to  him. 

She  thought  that  his  "Psalm  and  Goblet  of  Life"  had 
answered  that  requisition. 

We  told  her  that  Longfellow  troubled  Apollo  and 
the  muses  ;  he  w^^s  so  artistical — came  so  near  being  one 
of  the  "poetic  bairns,"  that  they  had  often  favored  him 
in  "snatching  a  grace  beyond  the  reach  of  art;"  by 
which  assistance  he  has  written,  as  Burns  would  say, 
*'■  a  rowth  o'  rhymes."  A  share  of  his  poetry  is  not  so  poet- 
ical as  some  of  his  prose.  But  his  chaste  and  scholarly 
muse  suifers  nothing  to  leave  his  pen  that  is  not  correct 
and  elegant.  His  best  poetry  was  beautiful.  His  poorest 
was  always  good  prose. 


SOJOURN  IN    THE   SOUTH.  189 

Our  chat  closed  with  Poe's  Raven,  which  was  admired 
as  a  thing  of  beauty.  "  Beautiful  exceedingly" — gloomy, 
but  beautiful.  We  have  not  such  another  poem  this  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  Bryant's  "  Thanatopsis,"  and  Poe's 
"  Raven,"  are  worthy  of  the  old  English  Muse. 

But  we  were  not  a  little  mortified  when  one  of  the  party, 
referring  to  a  trans-atlantic  author  of  great  celebrity, 
asked  us  how  we  liked  such  a  volume  of  his.  We  begged 
to  be  excused  from  answering,  for  we  had  not  read  the 
volume.  But  we  were  worse  off  when  the  same  per- 
son rather  coolly  remarked,  "  I  thought  everybody  had 
read  that  book."  I  replied  that  everybody  had  but 
me.  And  I  never  could  account  for  my  not  reading  it. 
But  this  would  not  do.  She  continued :  You  cannot  af- 
ford to  lose  the  reading  of  this  book.  I  finally  promised 
my  friend  that  I  would  read  it  the  first  opportunity  I  had. 
This  soon  occurred.  And,  to-day,  we  thank  our  fair  friend 
in  the  South  for  the  "fix"  she  got  us  into ;  for  it  was  the 
cause  of  our  reading  that  most  readable  of  all  books — 
Don  Quixote. 

But  I  soon  got  into  a  worse  situation.  Some  one  asked 
me  how  I  liked  a  certain  work  of  a  late  writer.  I,  in  or- 
der to  save  myself  from  another  expose — for  one  has  a 
pride  in  their  literary  acquisitions — replied,  for  I  was  in 
some  doubt  about  it,  that  I  had  forgotten  whether  I  had 
read  it  or  not.  This  would  not  answer  for  an  evasion ; 
for  I  was  plainly  told  that  if  I  had  ever  read  the  work,  I 
certainly  could  not  have  forgotten  such  a  thrilling  book. 

I  then  resolved  to  myself  that  I  would  read  every  pop- 
ular book,  ancient  or  modern,  or  keep  out  of  literary  soci- 
ety entirely,  where  the  continual  expose  of  one's  ignorance 
torments  them. 

The  subject  then  changed  to  Wordsworth.  Perhaps  no 
poet  was  so  "  wrapped  up  in  his  own  poetry,  and  his  own 


190  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

poetical  life,  as  Wordsworth.  He  thinks  and  observes 
nothing  else.  Everything  is  done  with  reference  to  it. 
He  was  all  and  only  a  poet."  And  truly  he  says  of 
himself — 

"To  me  the  meanest  flower  tliat  blows  can  give 
Thouglits  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears." 

He  had  mused  his  life  away  in  his  most  wild,  lovely  and 
romantic  home,  among  the  hills  near  Rydal  Lake,  a  spot 
of  all  others  in  the  Avorld  that  he  loved  the  most.  "  I 
would  not,"  says  he,  ''give  up  the  mists  that  spiritualize 
these  mountains,  for  all  the  beautiful  scenes  and  sunny 
skies  of  Italy." 

The  story  was  true  that  was  told  in  the  papers,  of  his 
seeing,  for  the  first  time,  in  a  large  company,  some  new 
novel  of  Scott's,  in  which  there  was  a  notice  taken  from 
his  works ;  and  that  he  went  immediately  to  the  shelf 
and  took  down  one  of  his  own  volumes  and  read  the  whole 
poem  to  the  party  who  were  waiting  for  the  reading  of 
the  new  volume  referred  to. 

A  few  evenings  later  Hugh  Miller  was  our  theme. 
Some  had  read  his  works,  and  very  much  admired  him. 
He  was  unsurpassed  by  any  writer  of  the  present  day,  in 
the  descriptive  faculty.  Bucklaxd  said  he  would  sive 
his  right  hand  for  it.  He  was  a  Titan  among  us.  A 
Burns  or  Shakspeare  hewing  stone.  And,  as  Carlyle 
would  say,  the  greatest  thing  Scotland  ever  did. 

One  of  the  ladies  present  said  that  while  she  was  living 
with  her  uncle,  Dr.  Y.,  of  Louisville,  Kentucky,  where 
she  was  educated,  a  celebrated  French  geologist,  in  makinor 
the  tour  of  the  L^nited  States,  visited  her  uncle  ;  and  he, 
when  asked  whether  he  was  a  married  man  or  not,  replied 
that  he  was  ;  he  was  married  to  geology — it  was  his  Avife 
and  children.     She  said  furthermore  that    Sir  Roderick 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  191 

MuRCHURSOx's  wife  was  jealous  of  geology;  and  that, 
when  Mr.  Liell  and  his  lady  were  making  the  tour  of  the 
United  States,  they  also  visited  her  uncle,  when  Mrs.  Liell 
told  her  that  the  wives  of  geologists  were  usually  jealous 
of  their  husbands,  and  that  she,  being  jealous  of  her  geo- 
logic husband,  dare  not  trust  him  to  make  the  tour  of  the 
United  States  alone. 

We,  during  the  evening,  asked  this  lady  if  she  had 
read  Mrs.  Stowe's  "  Sunny  Memories,"  in  which  the 
paintings  of  the  old  masters  were  .so  severely  criticised  ? 
No ;  she  had  not  read  madam  Stowe  since  she  wrote 
that  horrible  book  of  hers — Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

The  party  this  evening  were  playing  euchre,  as  usual, 
and  requested  me,  as  I  did  not  join  them,  to  act  as  their 
tally-man.  "VYe  thought  that  that  would  be  exerting  a  tal- 
ismanic  influence  over  us  to  lure  us  into  the  game. 

I  asked  my  fair  friend  if  playing  euchre  did  not  learn 
— we  use  learn  as  a  transitive  verb ;  teaches  here  would 
not  be  the  word — we  asked,  I  say,  our  fair  friend  if  eu- 
chre-playing did  not  learn  ladies  to  be  arch  and  intrigu- 
ing ?  She  thought  it  did  ;  for  it  was  called  the  game  of 
the  evil  one  by  all  the  good  folks. 

Another  evening  while  the  rest  were  playing  euchre, 
Miss  Hatchie  B.  and  I  were  playing  chess.  We  remem- 
ber, .during  the  evening,  that  we  were  interrupted  by  a 
servant's  coming  to  us  with  a  server  on  which  were  beau- 
tiful cut  glasses,  and  rich,  scolloped  cakes,  and  some 
cut  in  pretty  slices.  I  remember  that  I  took  one  of  the 
scolloped  cakes  and  one  of  the  glasses  in  my  hand — they 
were  stained  glasses — and  holding  it  up  to  the  light,  ad- 
mired its  rich,  beautiful  colors ;  and  that  when  I  put  it 
back  again  on  the  server  the  color  had  changed.  It 
seemed  quite  a  mystery  to  me  till  I  solved  it.     The  can- 


192  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

dle-liglit  when  I  took  up  the  glass  struck  it  so  as  to  give 
it  those  varied  colors. 

Late  in  the  evening  I  arose  and  bid  the  family  good 
night.  Nowhere  have  I  been  so  pleased,  so  captivated 
with  a  single  habit  of  a  people,  as  with  the  Southern  one 
of  bidding  you  "  good-night"  on  retiring  to  rest.  To  hear 
the  good-night  given  by  them  all  as  they  left  the  room,  I 
always  enjoyed  very  much.  It  was  ever  worth  waiting  for, 
to  hear  this  last  and  sweetest  word  of  all  spoken.  This 
given,  I  sought  my  room,  penned  a  few  lines  in  my  jour- 
nal, then  to  my  pillow,  which,  like  a  pretty  babe,  has  a 
wealth  of  fringe  and  drapery  about  it ;  and  was  soon  lost 
in  the  snowy  voluptuousness  of  my  couch. 

Misses  Hatchie  and  Mattie  B.,  our  fair  cousins,  came 
home  late  this  evening  from  the  "calico  ball,"  given 
in  Yazoo  Gity.  In  this  ball  the  ladies  all  wore  cal- 
ico dresses.  It  was  something  plebeian  for  these  patri- 
cian ladies.  They,  the  cousins,  are  tall  and  graceful 
figures  for  the  dance,  and  came  home  in  their  full  ball- 
dress,  with  fine  ostrich  plumes  decorating  their  heads. 
They  have  rich  black  hair,  and  the  elder,  very  beautiful 
black  eyes.  A  fine  eye  illuminates  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties, and  lights,  like  a  lamp,  the  apartments  of  the  mind, 
showing  their  wealth,  beauty  and  decorations. 

Our  topic  of  conversation  this  evening  was  with  Miss 
Hatchie  B.,  about  Northern  peculiarities.  She  thought 
that  she  had  got  much  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  North 
from  an  acquaintance  with  many  of  its  teachers. 

She  had  noticed  that  our  phrases  distinguished  us  as 
much  as  theirs  did  them.  A  Northerner  would  be  found 
out  before  he  was  in  their  society  twenty  minutes,  because 
he  could  not  possibly  remain  so  long  without  having 
"guessed"  se'^eral  times.     We  thought  it  useless  to  add 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  193 

that  during  the  same  twenty  minutes  in  our  society,  a 
Southron  Tvoukl  "reckon"  an  equal  number  of  times. 

Now  the  point  at  issue  was,  which  was  the  most  correct, 
to  guess  or  to  reckon  ?  The  Yankee  did  them  both,  he 
was  a  guessing  animal,  and  a  great  reckoner  ;  hence,  he 
had  the  advantage  of  the  Southron,  who  only  reckoned, 
but  never  guessed. 

We  remarked  that  we  thought  Southern  ladies  more  coy 
of  gentlemen's  society. 

She  said,  they,  in  this  respect,  were  more  recluse  than 
Northern  ladies.  But  she  wished  to  know  what  I  meant 
by  '' country  girls."  We  described  as  near  as  we  could 
that  "  rose-complexioned  lass." 

Did  Willis  mean  one  of  our  country  girls  in  these  lines 
of  his  : 

"  The  damsel  that  trips  at  day -break, 
Is  shod  like  a  mountaineer  ?" 

Yes,  and  in  that  line,  too,  where  he  calls  the  same 
country  girl 

"  A  milk-maid  half  divine." 

The  conversation  then  changed  to  beautiful  women,  and 
finally  to  Poe's  Raven,  which  we  thought  surpassed  beau- 
tiful women.  They  would  fade  ;  but  the  Raven  was  a 
think  of  beauty  and  a  joy  forever.  But  she  did  not  like 
it — denied  its  beauty.  We  were  a  little  surprised  at  this, 
but  could  not  allow  her  to  dislike  a  thing  of  so  much  merit 
and  beauty ;  hence  we  undertook  the  task  of  making  a 
lady  admire  a  thing  she  disliked.  So  we  went  to  noticing 
some  of  its  rarer  beauties  and  attractions  in  order  to  win 
her  over,  repeating  now  and  then  some  of  its  finest  lines. 

"  Then  I  betook  myself  to  thinking, 
Fancy  unto  fancy  linking;" 

N' 


194  JOTTINGS    OF  A  YEAR'S 

till  she  finally  concluded  to  like  it.  We  claim  no  merit  in 
winning  so  fair  an  admirer  over  to  Poe's  Raven ;  and 
only  mention  ourself  as  connected  with  it  for  the  sake  of 
adducing  the. instance — 

"  Merely  that  and  nothing  more." 

We  remember  reading  Shelley's  "Lark"  without  ad- 
miring it,  till  a  poetic  friend  of  ours  repeated  passages  of 
it  to  us  and  pointed  out  some  of  its  exquisite  bea'uties  ; 
and  now  we  shall  go  admiring  it  all  our  days. 

We  went  through  the  same  process  with  Coleridge's 
"Anci'ent  Mariner."  And  now  it  often  holds  us,  as  he 
with  the  "glittering  eye"  did  the  weddinger, 

"  Till  its  ghastly  tale  is  read, 
And  then  it  lets  us  free." 

And  we  remember  how  we  came  to  like  Shenstoxe,  and 
Crabbe,  and  Keats  ;  and  how  this  passage  in  Lacon  that 
Shakspeare  in  his  "Winter's  Tale"  speaks  of, 

"Daffodils  that  come  before  the  swallow  dares, 
And  takes  the  winds  of  March  with  beauty," 

made  us  read  the  "  Sweet  Swan  of  Avon."  We  thought 
the  poet  that  penned  those  beautiful  lines  was  worth 
reading. 

But  these  nights  that  we  have  only  given  an  imperfect 
glimpse  of,  will  be  remembered  by  me  and  our  little  group, 
seated,  during  the  winter  and  spring,  in  the  sitting-room 
around  the  chess-table  by  a  Southern  fire-side, 

"Where  life  is  a  tale  of  poetry. 
Told  by  the  golden  hours  ;" 

and  during  the  summer  and  autimin,  in  the  front  or  rear 
veranda  of  the  mansion  at  Willow  Dale,  chatting  and  look- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  195 

ing  out  upon  the  beautiful  moonlight  scene,  and  listening 
to  the  various  insect  music  about  us. 

Had  I  the  inimitable  pen  of  Kit  North,  these  nights 
and  their  chit-chat  should  be  put  in  a  book,  just  for  our- 
selves and  friends.  They  would  be  our  "  Noctes  Ambro- 
sian^e." 

But  now,  all  the  good  things  we  said  will  be  lost.  Yes, 
they  will  all  pass  away  with  the  sounds  and  music  of  the 
day-^the  melodious  confusion  of  bird-tongues,  the  delicious 
murmur  of  countless  millions  of  leaves,  the  tinkle  of  hid- 
den brooks,  the  small  talk  of  squirrels,  the  whir  of  par- 
tridges ;  yes,  they  will  all  pass  away  and  be  lost  with  the 
sounds  and  music  of  our  evening — the  monologue  of  the 
tree-toad,  the  harsh  notes  of  the  katy-dids,  the  slender 
reed  of  the  cicadas,  the  soft  hum,  the  trills,  pee-peeps,  and 
the  shrill  little  pipings  of  happy  insects. 

But  we  will  remember  these  evenings,  and  in  coming 
years,  memory  will  list  to  their  chit-chat 

"As  a  sweet  tale 
That  lulls  a  listening  child  to  sleep."' 


A   CYPRESS-SWAMP. 

"Away  to  the  dismal  swamp  he  speeds, 

And  his  path  is  rugged  and  sore, 

Through  tangled  juniper,  beds  of  weeds, 

Through  many  a  fen  where  the  serpent  feeds, 

And  man  never  trod  before." 

Tom  Mooke. 

Immense  swamps  of  cypress  constitute  a  vast  portion  of 
the  inundated  lands  of  the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries. 
No  prospect  on  earth  can  be  more  gloomy.  Well  may  the 
cypress  be  esteemed  a  funereal  tree.  When  the  tree  has 
shed  its  leaves,  a  cypress-swamp,  with  its  countless  inter-* 


196  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

laced  branches  of  a  hoary  gray,  has  an  aspect  of  desola- 
tion and  death.  In  summer  its  fine,  short  and  deep-green 
leaves  invest  those  hoary  branches  with  a  drapery  of  crape. 
The  water  in  which  they  grow  is  a  vast  deep  level,  two  or 
three  feet  deep,  still  leaving  the  innumerable  cypress  knees, 
as  they  are  called,  or  very  elliptical  trunks,  resembling 
circular  bee-hives  throwing  their  points  above  the  waters. 
This  water  is  covered  with  a  thick  coat  of  green  matter, 
resembling  buff  velvet.  The  musquitoes  swarm  above  the 
water  in  countless  millions.  A  very  frequent  adjunct  to 
this  horrible  scenery  is  the  moccasin-snake,  with  his  huge 
scaly  body  lying  in  folds  upon  the  side  of  a  cypress-knee  ; 
and  if  you  approach  too  near,  lazy  and  reckless  as  he  is, 
he  throws  the  upper  jaw  of  his  huge  mouth  almost  back  to 
his  neck,  giving  you  ample  warning  of  his  ability  and  will 
to  defend  himself. 

-'  I  traveled,"  says  Flint,  from  whom  this  sketch  is  de- 
rived, "  forty  miles  along  a  cypress-swamp,  and  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  way  on  the  edge  of  it,  in  which  the  horse 
sunk  at  every  step  half  way  up  to  his  knees.  I  was  en- 
veloped for  the  whole  distance  with  a  cloud  of  musquitoes. 
Like  the  ancient  Avernus,  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
seen  a  single  bird  in  the  whole  distance,  except  the  blue- 
jay.  Nothing  interrupted  the  death-like  silence  save  the 
hum  of  the  musquitoes." 

There  cannot  be  well  imagined  another  feature  to  the 
gloom  of  these  vast  and  dismal  forests,  to  finish  this  kind 
of  landscape,  more  in  keeping  with  the  rest  than  the  long 
moss,  or  Spanish  beard ;  and  this  funereal  drapery  attaches 
itself  to  the  cypress  in  preference  to  any  other  tree.  There 
is  not,  that  I  know,  an  object  in  nature  that  produces  such 
a  number  of  sepulchral  images  as  the  view  of  the  cypress 
forest,  all  shagged,  dark,  and  enveloped  in  the  festoons 
of  moss.     If  yoa  would  inspire  an  inhabitant  of  New  Eng- 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  197 

land,  possessed  of  the  customary  portion  of  feeling,  with 
the  degree  of  homesickness  that  would  strike  to  the  heart, 
transfer  him  instantly  from  the  hill  and  dale,  from  the 
bracing  air  and  varied  scenery  of  the  North,  to  the  cy- 
press-swamps of  the  south^ 

t 

CHAMELEONS,    SNAKES,    REPTILES 
AND   MIDGES. 

"  'A  stranger  animal,'  cries,  one. 
Sure  never  lived  beneath  the  sun  : 
A  lizard's  body,  lean  and  long, 
A  fish's  head,  a  serpent's  tongue. 
Its  tooth  with  tripple  claw  disjoined; 
And  what  a  length  of  tail  behind !" 

Merrick. 

It  is  useless  for  one  to  attempt  to  describe  the  chamel- 
eon— for  he  would  find  it  something  else  ere  he  got  through. 
It  is  a  nondescript  in  color,  or  it  takes  its  hue  from  what- 
ever it  is  on. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  snakes  in  this  part  of  the 
South.  The  most  dreaded  are  the  rattle-snake,  mocca- 
sin  and  the  pilot-snake,  that  gets  so  full  of  poison  in  the 
fall  that  it  grows  blind.  There  are  also  many  scorpions 
of  the  lizard  species,  some  venomous,  and  many  lizards  of 
beautiful  colors,  like  those  of  the  East,  which  Tom  Moore, 
in  his  Lalla  Rookh,  speaks  of— there 

"  Lay  lizards,  glittering  on  the  walls 
Of  ruined  shrines,  busy  and  bright. 
As  they  were  all  alive  with  light." 

The  aligator  is  found  in  the  Yazoo  River,  though  the 
steamers  disturb  him  much,  and  send  him  to  take  his 
siestas  in  the  more  retired  bayous,  and  the  secluded  swamps 
and  ponds,  among  which  he  lazily   swims   and   wanders 


198  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

about,  the  most  detested  loafer  in  the  animal  kingdom. 
A  dog  is  a  dainty  tit-bit  for  him.  If  he  sees  one  swimming 
across  the  river,  or  bayou,  he  springs  upon  him  and  in- 
stantly devours  him. 

The  chegre,  an  infinitesimal^  gnat,  often  spoken  of  at 
the  North  as  being  very  annojftng  to  one  here,  I  have  felt 
but  little  of,  though  his  sting  awakens  one  to  the  memory 
of  hornets  or  yellow-jackets. 

The  gnat  also,  that  ephemeral  trumpeter,  who  lights  on 
one  with  gossamer  softness  to  nettle  you  with  his  sting, 
is  very  numerous. 

The  musquitoes  in  the  valley  annoy  one  very  much, 
morninor  and  eveninof,  durino^  the  summer.  At  these  hours 
there  is  no  relief  from  them,  unless  you  are  enveloped,  like 
Jupiter,  in  a  cloud  of  your  own  creating.  It  was  even 
difficult  this  season  to  write  or  read  during  most  part  of 
the  day,  these  imps  molested  .you  so.  One  was  glad  to 
retire  at  night,  and,  having  let  down  the  fine  gauze  netting 
about  his  bed,  there  was  a  pleasure — securely  freed  from 
their  annoyance — in  being  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  low  hum 
of  their  countless  wings,  and  the  delicious  muimiur  of  their 
banqueting  notes  about  your  couch. 


-0- 


Our  winter  culminated  to-day,  Thursday,  February 
third.  The  morning  gave  promise  of  a  fair  day.  Towards 
noon  the  clouds  threatened  rain  or  snow ;  which  it  would 
be  it  was  difficult  to  tell ;  and  in  fact,  they  themselves  got 
into  a  huif  about  the  matter,  and  some  commenced  snow- 
ing and  others  raining,  which  resulted  in  the  first,  real, 
original  compromise,  known  in  elemental  strife  as  sleet. 

Friday,  February  fourth.     A  beautiful  day.     Where  is 


SOJOURN   IX   THE   SOUTH.  199 

yesterday  Tvith  its  winter  sleet  ?  This  is  a  change,  and 
what  a  change  I  The  sun  is  out  in  all  its  mellow  sunshine, 
the  daffodils  and  hyacinths  are  out  in  all  their  beauty  and 
bloom,  the  turtles  are  out  on  their  logs  along  the  beach, 
basking  in  the  sunshine,  the  birds  are  out  caroling  in  the 
trees,  and  the  negroes  are  out  at  work  in  the  field. 


AN   OLD   SCHOOLMATE 


"When  musing  on  companions  gone, 
We  doubly  feel  ourselves  alone." 


Scott. 


One  of  my  pupils,  little  Willie  Y.,  brought  me,  this 
morning,  a  beautiful  orange.  His  father,  he  said,  came 
home  last  night  on  the  "Whiteman,"  a  Yazoo  steamer 
that  runs  between  Yazoo  City  and  New  Orleans,  and  had 
brought  them  a  barrel  of  oranges. 

The  merchants  in  New  Orleans  that  buy  the  planters' 
cotton,  usually  send  by  him  on  his  return  home  in  the 
winter  a  barrel  of  oysters  or  oranges,  as  a  New  Year's 
or  Christmas  present  to  their  families. 

Eating  this  orange  recalls  to  my  mind  the  memory  of 
James  Arosto  Duxcan,  the  friend,  confident  and  com- 
panion of  my  life  during  our  academic-days  at  Kalamazoo, 
that  "Harrow  School"  of  ours,  and  our  college-days  at 
Ann  Arbor,  Michigan.  Who  can  tell  the  love  of  school- 
mates ? 

We  had  gone  during  one  of  the  vacations  in  school  to 
visit  some  friends  in  the  country.  Taking  a  choice  vol- 
ume of  one  of  the  old  English  poets  with  us,  we  were  going 
to  read  it  by  the  running  brook,  and  enjoy  a  few  days  of 
life  among 

"  The  babbling  fields  of  green." 


200  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"Yax,"  said  he  to  me  one  day — we  usually  shortened 
our  names,  as  students  always  do,  preferring  to  abreviate 
a  schoolmate's  name  as  much  as  possible,  not  only  for 
facility  of  utterance,  but  they  were  favorite  names — names 
which  our  Alma  Mater  had  christened  us  over  and  given, 
and  by  which  we  were  known  among  ourselves  at  school, 
and  were  ever  afterwards  remembered.  At  the  time  refer- 
red to,  we  had  gone  a-blackberrying  with  a  party  of  our 
friends,  and  were  away  in  the  woods.  I  had  strayed  off 
from  the  rest,  and  seating  myself  on  a  log  was  enjoying 
my  musings. 

"Van,"  says  he,  as  he  came  up  and  seated  himself  on 
the  log  by  me,  some  coarse  and  clownish  fellows  having 
joined  our  party  in  the  woods  giving  cause  to  the  remark, 
"  We  have  read  much  in  our  Greek  and  Latin  about  the 
'  hoi  2^oUoi — the  '  vulgars  ;'  and  in  English  about  the 
common  people — the  rabble — and  taking  me  by  .the  hand 
with  his  heart  full  of  pure  and  noble  sentiments,  continued, 
"  I  cannot  love  the  coarse  and  vulgar  in  this  life  of  ours 
— Amicus  Plato  sed  magis  arnica  Veritas.  Why  didn't 
you  go  out  picking  berries  with  the  party?"  I  told  him 
I  had  got  tired  and  had  seated  myself  on  this  log  and  gone 
into  reflection.  He  had  seen  me  there,  and  picking  a 
handful  of  large  berries  came  back  from  the  party,  and 
giving  them  to  me  we  communed  together  for  some  time. 

"I  thought,"  said  he,  "you  were  lonely  and  I  would 
come  and  keep  you  company." 

I  replied  that  I  was  glad  he  had,  for  I  had  rather  con- 
verse with  him  than  to  scratch  myself  and  tear  my  clothes 
for  a  few  blackberries.  My  thoughts  were  sweeter  than 
berries  to  me. 

I  believe  he  was  as  noble  a  fellow  as  I  ever  had  for  a^ 
schoolmate  ;  and  how  often  we  two  have  given  the  reading 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  201 

of  our  hearts  to  each  other  as  we  did  letters  from  our 
friends. 

He  continued:  "Van,  would  you  not  like  to  leave  a 
good  name  here,  that  when  you  are  gone  your  friends  can 
speak  well  of  you,  and  praise  and  remember  you  with 
affection  and  love  ?  0,  who  does  not  wish  to  leave  a  beau- 
tiful memory  here  on  earth  that  will  be  like  a  sweet  friend 
to  them  when  they  are  gone  ?  It  is  better  than  golden 
epitaphs,  or  the  poet's  fame.  I  should  like  to  leave  such 
a  memory  when  I  am  gone." 

He  has  gone.  He  lies  here  in  the  sunny  South.  The 
magnolia  waves  and  blooms  over  his  grave  ;  but  his  mem- 
ory— that  beautiful  memory  of  his  is  here.  It  is  connected 
with  every  scene  and  incident  of  our  school-days.  •  It  will 
never  leave  me,  and  when  I  die  I  hope  that  I  shall  leave 
a  good  name,  too,  that  will 

"  Plead  in  remembrance  of  me," 

and  there  in  that  better  land  I  shall  meet  my  old  school- 
mate where  we  can  talk  over  our  past  lives  and  live  for- 
ever in  eternal  love  in  Heaven. 

Eating  this  orange  reminds  me  of  him.  It  is  said  that 
by  eating  one  he  died.  The  sharp  point  of  one  of  the  seeds 
sticking  in  his  throat  caused  his  death. 

He  lies  buried  not  far  from  here  in  Alabama,  where  he 
with  his  young  and  accomplished  wife  had  gone  to  teach. 
How  appropriate  the  name,  Alabama,  "  Here  we  will  rest," 
to  the  death  of  my  friend,  a  stranger  far  away  from  home. 
The  following  lovely  lines  that  one  of  England's  late  poets 
wrote  for  his  own  epitaph,  and  which  my  lamented  friend 
had  a  soul  for  admiring,  and  would,  no  doubt,  have  selected 
.for  his  epitaph,  as  I  should  for  mine,  I  inscribe  here  in 
memory  of  him. 


202  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR's 

'<  He  does  well  who  does  his  best ; 
Is  he  weary  ?  let  him  rest. 
Brothers,  I  have  done  my  best ; 
I  am  weary — let  me  rest. 
After  toiling  oft  in  vain  ; 
Baffled,  yet  to  struggle  fain  ; 
After  toiling  long  to  gain 
Little  good  with  mickle  pain, 
Let  me  rest.     But  lay  me  low, 
"Where  the  hedge-side  roses  blow  ; 
Where  the  little  daises  grow  ; 
Where  the  winds  a-Maying  go  ; 
Where  the  foot-path  rustics  plod  ; 
Where  the  breeze-bowed  poplars  nod  ; 
Where  his  pencil  paints  the  sod  ; 
Where  the  old  wood  worships  God  ; 
Where  the  wedded  throstle  sings  ; 
AVhere  the  wailing  plover  swings  ; 
Where  the  young  bird  tries  his  wings, 
Near  the  runlet's  rushy  springs  ; 
Where  at  times  the  tempest's  roar, 
Shaking  distant  sea  and  shore. 
Still  will  rave  old  Barnsdale  o'er, 
To  be  heard  by  me  no  more; 
There  beneath  the  breezy  West, 
Tired  and  thankful  let  me  rest, 
Like  a  child  that  sleepeth  best 
On  its  gentle  mother's  breast." 


THE   YAZOO   river   AND   VALLEY. 

Let  me  notice  the  -view  one  gets  in  sailing  up  tlie  Yazoo. 
I  do  wish  its  waters  were  clearer,  just  for  its  own  sake 
and  the  sake  of  its  steamers — those  stately  swans,  that 
they  might  like  those  on 

''  Still  St.  Mary's  lake 
Float  double,  swan  and  shadow." 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  203 

The  trees  in  the  valley  through  which  it  flows  are  of 
various  kinds,  but  as  you  approach  the  river  they  have  all 
dropped  off,  and  you  see  nothing  but  a  border,  on  either 
bank,  of  tall  willow-trees,  with  their  rich  foliage  hanging 
over  the  water,  and  here  and  there  an  oak  standing 
among  them.  While  between  the  trees,  from  the  ground 
upwards,  there  is  a  luxuriant  profusion  of  vine-work  and 
tangle-wood,  a  rich,  green,  undulating  bank  of  foliage  that 
rises  from  the  river's  edge,  and  continues  till  it  is  lost  by 
mingling  and  entwining  among  the  boughs  of  the  trees. 

River  vistas  are  most  always  cut  off  by  the  winding 
course  of  the  stream ;  but  where  you  can  catch  this  hold- 
ing a  straight  course  long,  ere  it  dodges'round  a  bend,  or 
hides  among  the  willows,  you  have  a  fine  view.  A  smooth 
stream  of  water,  some  thirty  rods  wide,  fringed  with  the 
willow,  whose  fine  foliage,  as  it  recedes  from  you,  has  a 
mezzotint  softness,  and  seems  to  meet  over  the  water. 
Sailing  down  this  river  on  a  beautiful  moonlight  night 
adds  a  charm  to  the  scene,  and  "leafs"  one  into  romance 
a  page  or  two.  At  such  times  I  have  imagined  that  this 
was  the  stream  on  which  DeSoto  met  that  beautiful  In- 
dian Princess — the  Cleopatra  of  this  region — in  her 
beautiful  galley  surrounded  by  her  maidens  ;  and  I  have 
imagined — but  the  shrill  whistle  of  a  steamer  coming 
in  sight,  from  round  a  bend,  has  startled  me  from  my  rev- 
erie, and  started  me  to  my  feet,  to  behold — a  floating  pal- 
ace, brilliantly  illuminated,  pass  us.  Heaven  bless  Ful- 
ton •"  forever  and  a  day,"  for  such  a  sight ! 

Some  fifteen  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river,  on  one 
of  the  bluffs  that  command  a  fine  view  of  the  river  and 
scenery,  there  are  the  remains  of  an  old  Catholic  Church. 
Tradition  says  something  about  its  being  built  by  the 
French.  Its  history  is  in  doubt,  and  so  is  also  that  of  the 
ruins  of  an  old  fort  not  far  from  the  above-named   relics, 


204  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

supposed  to  have  been  built  by  DeSoto.  He  passed  tbe 
winter  of  1541  on  the  banks  of  the  Yazoo.  But  the  Ya- 
zoo valley,  now  so  blooming  a  region — rich  with  its  tasseled 
maize,  and  snowy  with  its  interminable  fields  of  cotton — 
according  to  tradition,  was  once  a  bloody  ground.  Yazoo 
means  the  "  River  of  Death ;"  a  tribe  of  Indians  had,  un- 
doubtedly, been  exterminated  here,  as  the  Natchez  were 
below ;  and  since  then,  while  the  State  was  being  settled, 
a  band  of  lawless  desperadoes  prowled  about  this  re- 
gion, way-laying  and  robbing  the  defenceless  inhabitants. 
One  of  the  Vicksburgh  papers  has  been  giving  a  long  tale 
of  murder  and  crime,  laying  the  scene  in  the  Yazoo  val- 
ley, and  one  Dick  Mason  as  the  hero.  Many  of  the  rel- 
atives of  these  desperadoes  are  in  possession  of  rich  plan- 
tations, the  true  title  to  which  they  would  be  reluctant 
to  trace  out. 

The  river  is  now  very  high,  and  in  many  places  over- 
flowing its  banks  and  killing  much  corn  and  cotton.  This 
stream,  I  believe,  is,  for  its  size,  unequaled  in  navigation 
by  any  river  in  the  United  States.  Steamers  sail  up  the 
Yazoo  proper  some  three  hundred  miles,  and  then  nearly 
the  same  distance  up  the  Tallahatchie,  one  of  its  tributa- 
ries. This  is  bringing  the  Mississippi  into  this  part  of 
the  State.  The  valley  has  been  considered  more  un- 
healthy than  the  uplands,  especially  in  the  summer  sea- 
son. Some  who  own  plantations  here  live  "in  the  hills  ;" 
others  spend  their  summers  in  Tennessee  and  Kentucky — 
their  winters  here.  They  call  this  going  North.  Tennes- 
see, Kentucky  and  Virginia,  and  those  on  their  Northern 
borders,  are  ranked  by  them  among  the  Northern  States. 
I  have  often  been  pleased  to  hear  them  tell  of  having  been 
North,  when  they  had  never  crossed  Mason's  &  Dixon's 
line. 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  205 


YAZOO    CITY. 

This  town,  viewed  from  the  steamers  as  you  pass  up  the 
river,  seems  as  if  it  was  coy  of  being  seen,  and  had  made 
an  effort  to  hide  among  the  trees  and  shrubbery,  amid 
which  the  inhabitants  have  reared  their  dwellings.  And 
when  you  have  once  got  into  its  strees,  you  cannot 
so  much  wonder  at  its  shyness,  for  many  of  its  plain  and 
shabby  buildings  look  better  half  hid.  It  lies  in  the  em- 
brace, on  one.  side,  of  a  range  of  bluffs  half  circling  round 
it,  the  city  sloping  down  from  these  to  the  river  that 
forms  the  base  of  this  part  circle.  The  side-walks  are 
paved  with  bricks  set  edge-wise.  The  place  is  quiet,  and 
has  an  old  Spanish  air  about  it.  You  hear  the  "clack" 
of  one  saw-mill,  and  the  clang  of  several  anvils ;  and 
you  see  the  large,  lumbering,  high-boxed  wagons,  with 
their  loads  of  cotton  drawn  by  two  or  three  span  of 
mules,  or  five  or  six  yoke  of  oxen,  dragging  their  slow 
lengths  along  through  its  streets.  It  has  four  churches — 
small,  decent  buildings — Presbyterian,  Methodist,  Episco- 
pal and  Catholic.  Rev.  C.  K.  Marshall,  of  the  Meth- 
odist Church,  has  the  reputation  of  a  fine  orator  through- 
out many  of  the  States.  He  has  been  traveling  so  much 
this  summer,  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  catch  him  in 
his  pulpit.  This  town  is  noted  for  its  two  Know-Nothing 
papers — one  the  Yazoo  City  Observer,  rather  an  able 
sheet — the  other  the  American  Banner,  and  the  only  po- 
litical paper  in  the  United  States  edited  by  a  lady — Mrs. 
Prewit.  She  is  a  Northern  lady.  Her  husband  former- 
ly edited  it,  and  on  his  death,  she 

"  Hung  out  the  banner  from  the  outer  walL" 


206  JOTTIXGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

The  place,  though  containing  some  fifteen  hundred  in- 
habitants, has  no  public  schools.  It  has  a  few  private 
ones.  The  number  of  white  children  is  not  in  equal  pro- 
portion to  a  town  of  the  same  size  in  the  North.  Yet  this 
lack  of  Common  Schools  is  a  sad  thing  for  the  place. 
Private  Schools  will  not  answer ;  they  do  not  gather  all 
in.  "Had  I  as  many  children,"  says  Daxiel  Webster, 
as  old  Priam,  I  would  send  them  all  to  the  Common 
Schools." 

WILLOW   DALE   PLANTATION. 

The  plantation  proper,  that  part  that  is  cultivated,  is 
some  four  hundred  acres.  I  presume  Mr.  P.  has  a  thousand 
or  two  acres  in  all.  He  raises  usually  two  or  three  thou- 
sand bushels  of  corn,  and  makes  three  hundred  bales  of 
cotton.  He  is  supposed  to  be  worth  $100,000.  A  young 
widow,  a  short  distance  up  the  river  from  here,  is  worth 
half  a  million. 

A  man  not  only  shows  his  taste,  but  his  wisdom,  in  his 
house  and  its  surroundings.  I  question  the  economy  and 
philosophy  that  leaves  the  house  just  so  it  will  answer  to 
"stay  in" — the  grounds  about  it  unadorned  and  unat- 
tractive, and  gives  all  labor  and  attention  to  the  great 
field.  It  is  the  benevolence  that  would  assist  the  far-off 
Greeks  w^hen  the  very  Greeks  are  at  your  door.  Mr. 
P.'s  house  is  a  capacious  mansion,  sixty-five'  feet  square, 
two  stories  high,  both  verandaed.  The  grounds  about  it 
are  finely  laid  out,  and  adorned  with  many  rare  trees  and 
shrubs.  Many  a  planter  with  thrice  his  wealth  has  a 
rouo-h  locr  dwellino;  for  his  home. 

I  have  said  before  that  the  planters  built  their  houses  of 
nearly  the  same  style.  Following  this  out  as  a  hint,  I 
find  they  are  much  given  to  mannerism  among  themselves. 


/  SOJOURX   IX   THE   SOUTH.  207 

For  instance,  you  generally  find  in  their  houses  a  large 
high-posted,  heavy-topped  bedstead — some  cost  ovei  ^ 
hundred  dollars,  and  are  massive  and  rich.  One  would 
think  that  such  a  piece  of  furniture  was  a  relic  of  feudal 
days,  on  which  once  had  couched  the  chivalrous  CuER  DE 
Leox,  or  William  the  Conqueror,  or  the  lordly  inmates  of 
Warwick  or  Windsor  Castle.  I  might  mention  other  in- 
stances. 

The  family  of  Mr.  P.  consists  of  himself  and  lady, 
four  children,  and  an  Irish  girl  as  their  seamstress.  You 
frequently  find  poor,  white  young  ladies  sewing  in  their 
farailies.  Mr.  P.  is  from  Xorth  Carolina.  His  lady  is 
from  Tennessee.  It  is  considered  as  honorable  to  be  a 
Virginian  here,  as  it  was  once  to  be  a  Roman  citizen.  A 
good  story  is  told  of  the  North  Carolinians,  who,  feeling 
all  the  Virginian's  pride  of  birth,  often  reply,  when  asked 
what  State  they  are  from,  "  From  North  Carolina,  near 
the  Virginia  line." 

Mr.  P.'s  slaves  were  divided  into  house-servants,  car- 
penter and  blacksmith,  and  field-hands.  The  servants 
about  the  house  are  well-dressed,  and  each  has  his  or  her 
respective  duty  to  perform.  Aunt  Betty,  the  cook,  is  in 
her  "  sanctum,"  hard  by  the  dining  room,  and  during  meals 
a  servant  is  in  direct  communication  with  her  and  the  ta- 
ble, who  conveys  the  viands  warm  to  the  table,  and  re- 
plenishes them  as  soon  as  they  get  cold. 

Where  they  do  not  have  good  mechanics  among  their 
slaves,  they  put  out  some  ingenious  one  of  them  an  ap- 
prentice till  he  has  learned  his  trade.  Nathan,  Mr.  P.'s 
carpenter,  is  also  a  preacher,  and  on  Sundays  discourses 
to  his  brethren  and  sisters  of  that  better  land,  far  away. 
The  field-hands  have  their  quarters  near  by  the  house, 
some  thirty  rods  to  the  right.  These  consist  of  little 
frame    cabins,    boarded  with  cypress,  and  white-washed. 


208  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

They  are  very  often  log-cabins ;  but  a  planter  of  pride  and 
taste  has  everything  neat  and  orderly  about  him.  They 
are  arranged  in  rows,  fronting  the  road,  and  shaded  by  a 
fine  row  of  cone-shaped  cotton-wood  and  China-trees  be- 
fore them.     These  are  their  homes. 

They  raise  their  own  chickens,  and  have  all  the  money 
they  can  make  from  selling  them  and  their  eggs  in  market. 
They  often  have  a  patch  of  corn,  from  which  they  gather 
sometimes  five  or  six  hundred  bushels.  Saturday  night 
they  take  whatever  they  wish  to  carry  to  town,  get  a 
"pass"  from  Mr.  P. — they  have  no  right  to  sell  without 
it — and  put  them  into  a  skiff  and  row  up  to  Yazoo  City, 
six  miles,  and  dispose  of -them.  Besides  this,  they  have 
all  they  can  make  by  selling  wood  to  the  steamers.  An 
industrious  negro  can  make  quite  a  sum  in  a  year  by  sell- 
ing wood.  A  negro  don't  like  the  cold  weather.  The 
hottest  day  in  summer  suits  him  better.  Last  winter  they 
were  clearing  off"  a  new.  piece  of  land.  Some  of  them 
would  bundle  up  head  and  ears,  though  the  ground  was 
soft  under  their  feet.  Mr.  P.  remarked  to  me,  as  one  of 
the  little  girls,  picking  up  brush,  passed  by  us  with  her 
teeth  chattering  with  the  cold, 

"  I  expect  to  find  little  Lid  a  lump  of  ice  one  of  these 
days." 

His  negroes  have  the  advantage  of  having  the  "Word  of 
God  expounded  to  them.  A  little  chapel  scbool-house, 
in  a  tuneful  grove  of  willow  oaks,  is  the  sanctuary  for  a 
few  planters  and  their  families.  The  negroes  grouped  to- 
gether on  seats  near  the  door,  the  planters  and  their  fami- 
lies are  seated  within  the  house.  The  parson — clergy- 
men are  usuaUy  called  parsons  h^re — standing  near  the 
door,  so  that  both  parties  can  hear — Japhet  in  his  tent, 
and  Ham,  his  servant,  sitting  at  his  door.     Our  parson  is 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  209 

a  Methodist,  a  young  gentleman  of  fair  talent.     I   have 
pleasing  recollections  of  his  acquaintance. 


COTTON  PLANTING  AND  THE  CANE-BRAKES. 

Some  eight  or  ten  negroes  with  their  mule-teams,  com- 
menced ploughing  to-day,  in  the  field  near  our  school- 
house.  Two  of  them  went  ahead  and  struck  the  field  out 
into  furrows,  three  or  four  feet  apart.  Others  followed, 
turninor  furrows  ao-ainst  these  on  both  sides,  till  the  inter- 
mediate  spaces  between  the  original  furrows  were  all 
ploughed  up.  This  forms  ridges  some  four  feet  apart. 
After  the  field  is  thus  ridged,  a  negro  with  a  single  mule, 
before  a  small  plough,  strikes  a  furrow  on  the  top  of  each 
ridge.  Another  nec^ro  follows  him  with  a  sack  of  cotton 
seed  strung  around  his  shoulders,  and  scatters  the  seed 
thickly  along  in  this  furrow ;  he  is  followed  by  one  of  his 
fellows,  with  a  mule  before  a  small  harrow,  who  drags 
over  the  seed,  thus  covering  it  up.  And  finally,  to  make 
sure  work,  a  negress  follows  the  last  one,  with  a  hoe,  to 
cover  up  what  seed  may  not  have  been  covered  by  the  har- 
row. This  is  cotton  planting,  which  is  done  on  the  first 
of  April.  Corn  is  planted  the  same  way,  but  one  month 
earlier.  The  overseer  is  seen  walking  or  riding,  here 
and  there  over  the  field,  whip  in  hand,  inspecting  the 
work.  One  peculiarity  of  the  soil  in  the  valley  is  wor- 
thy of  notice.  It  is  the  innumerable  pieces  of  shells 
mingling  with  it.  In  places  you  see  many  acres  thickly 
covered  with  them,  the  ground  reflecting  the  sunbeams 
back  in  a  thousand  pearly  hues.  They  are  supposed  to 
be  the  multifold  fragments  of  oyster  shells  or  others,  that 
the  Indians  have  formerly  used  here.  Shells  that  time, 
the  crumbier,  has  reduced  as  a 


210  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

"Broken  mirror,  which  the  glass 

In  every  fragment  multiplies — and  makes 
A  thousand  images  of  one  that  was, 

The  same,  and  still  the  more,  the  more  it  breaks." 

The  cane-brakes  South,  and  the  young  and  tender  cane 
that  is  kept  down  by  the  grazing  of  the  cattle  and  deer, 
is  also  deserving  some  attention.  The  If^-gest  grows  here 
to  some  inch  or  two  in  diameter,  .and  some  over  twenty 
feet  high.  It  grows  five  or  six  years,  then  dies  and  com- 
mences anew  again.  Its  only  use  is,  pasturage  for  cattle, 
and  the  planters  make  "pipe  stales"  and  fishing  rods  of 
it.  Go  into  the  interior  of  Germany  and  you  will  find  a 
small  species  of  cane,  the  size  of  a  man's  finger,  and  ten 
or  twelve  feet  high.  In  the  north  of  Italy,  and  on  the 
banks  of  Lago  Maggou^e,  the  reed  cane  is  an  inch  in  di- 
ameter, and  long  enough  for  fishing  rods.  At  Rome  and 
on  the  coast  of  Calabra,  this  cane  is  two  inches  thick,  and 
thirty-five  feet  high,  and  is  substantial  enough  to  be 
used  for  fence  poles  and  rafters  for  the  roofs  of  houses. 
Go  to  the  East  Indies,  to  Java  and  Summatra,  and 
there  you  will  find  magnificent  groves  of  bambo  canes, 
the  joints  ten  feet  apart,  the  trunks  six  in  diameter, 
and  sixty  feet  high.  The  canes  are  nothing  but  arbores- 
cent grasses — cereals  grown  up  into  trees — and  belong  to 
the  same  class  of  vegetation  as  wheat,  rye,  oats  and  bar- 
ley, the  hay  of  our  fields  and  the  bog-grass  used  by  the 
inhabitants  of  Iceland  and  Shetland  to  make  roads  over 
swamps.  It  is  often  stated  that  grass  is  rarely  seen  in 
warm  climates,  particularly  in  the  tropics.  The  green 
meadows,  the  grassy  lawns  and  velvet  turf,  so  common, 
so  useful  and  so  healthful  in  the  North,  are  rarely  or  never 
seen  within  thirty  or  thirty-five  degrees  of  the  equator. 
But  the  Creator,  adapting  means  to  ends,  has  turned  the 
grasses  into  trees.     AYhen  young,  they  grow  from  two  feet 


SOJOUPtX   IX   THE   SOUTH.  211 

to  two  and  a-half  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  in  that  state 
are  cut  like  asparagus  and  used  as  green  vegetables. 
When  full  grown  the  tree  and  leaves  are  used  for  more 
purposes  than  hemp,  flax,  and  any  six  trees  of  the  tem- 
perate zones,  all  put  together ;  making  clothing,  houses, 
fuel,  furniture,  and  almost  every  description  of  article 
needed  in  domestic  life." 


A  FASHIONABLE   CALL   SOUTH. 

"Hear  the  pretty  ladies  talk." 

Dk.  Darwin, 

A  servant  came  to  my  room  and  told  me  that  Mrs.  P. 
requested  me  to  come  down  into  the  drawing-room.  On 
arriving  at  the  door  I  was  ushered  into  a  drawing-room 
of  ladies  with  a  gentleman  in  it. 

They  were  all  a  tete-a-tete  on  some  subject ;  what  it  was 
I  could  not  tell ;  and  the  longer  I  listened  and  tried  to 
catch  the  theme,  the  more  I  got  tangled  up  in  their  con- 
versation. It  appeared  to  be  a  Rev.  Mr.  Somebody,  but 
who  he  could  be,  was  as  mystical  as  the  vagaries  of  a  sleep- 
ing girl.  I  got  all  of  his  qualities — his  complete  portrait 
was  drawn — he  was  a  very  clever  gentleman,  had  a  mild 
and  pleasant  eye,  preached  good  and  instructive  sermons, 
had  a  pretty  wife  who  dressed  with  good  taste,  one  of  the 
ladies  was  a  schoolmate  of  hers;  and  so  on,  about  this  Rev. 
Somebody,  his  pretty  wife,  and  the  sweet  little  rosette  in 
a  love-of-a-bonnet  that  she  wore,  till  I  gave  up  the  idea  of 
ever  finding  out  who  he  was,  and  hesitating  in  the  mean- 
while to  interrupt  them  by  asking,  till  I  grew  perplexed 
and  resolved  that  I  never  would  ask,  and  really  wished 
not  to  find  out ;  and  to  this  day  I  never  have,  and  hope  I 
never  shall.  I  wish  to  see  this  Rev.  gentleman  go  down 
to  his  grave  my  "Junius." 


21^  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

After  having  failed  for  some  time  to  catch  the  subject 
of  their  conversation,  one  of  the  party  dropped  the  theme 
and  began  to  talk  about  playing  chess  ;  in  which  I  joined, 
and  shortly  after  some  of  the  rest.  Then  for  a  while  there 
was  a  doubt  which  theme  would  claim  the  attention,  the 
Reverend  one,  or  chess,  as  the  other  party  still  held  on  to 
theirs  and  would  now  and  then  essay  to  bring  one  of  us 
over  on  their  side.  But  we  check-mated  them,  and  gained 
the  subject,  and  in  a  little  while  it  was  chess,  chess,  chess 
with  us  all. 

This  call  was  a  fashionable  one  in  the  South.  The 
ladies  were  dressed  in  "rings  and  things  and  fine  array;" 
sat  and  chatted  with  their  bonnets  on,  each  with  a  rich 
parasol  in  her  hands,  occasionally  raising  its  ivory  top  to 
her  pearly  teeth,  or  pressing  it  against  her  lips,  or  she 
would  lightly  tap  it  against  her  dress,  on  the  sofa  or  carpet. 
They  managed  the  conversation  with  vivacity,  throwing 
in  now  and  then  a  hon-mot,  uttering  no  inelegant  word, 
but  lisped  them  with  a  polite  accent,  never  saying  bunnet 
for  bonnety  nor  purtj  for  pretty .  They  were  accompanied 
by  a  very  pleasant  gentleman,  brother  to  two  of  the  ladies. 
At  our  gate  stood  a  beautiful  span  of  bays  in  silvered 
trappings,  before  a  splendid  carriage,  with  two  negro  serv- 
ants in  livery,  one  to  hold  the  horses,  and  the  other  to 
wait  on  the  ladies.  When  they  had  conversed  the  usual 
time  for  such  a  call,  they  stepped  into  their  carriage  and 
rode  some  two  miles  to  their  homes.  This  was  young  Mrs. 
L.,  Mrs.  M.  and  her  sister's  call  on  Mrs.  P.  at  Willow 
Dale. 

FOURTEENTH   DAY   OF   WINTER. 

This  is  the  fourteenth  day  of  winter,  yet  our  Northern 
October  has  a  more  shriveled  forest  and  colder  weather. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  213 

The  sun  is  not  shining  clear  this  morning.  Light,  soft 
clouds  are  scattered  all  over  the  sky ;  and  he  now  and 
then  peeps  out  between  them,  showing  his  shining,  morn- 
ing face,  and  gladdening  everything  with  his  smile. 

I  rambled  out  in  the  woods  to  enjoy  the  soft,  balmy  air 
of  winter.  The  hollies  and  magnolias  were  in  their  pure 
and  deep  green.  These  evergreens  are  of  a  deeper  and 
lovelier  green  in  the  winter.  Here  in  these  woods  winter 
merely  lets 

"  Hoary-lieaded  frosts 
Fall  in  the  fresh  lap  of  the  crimson  rose ; 
And  on  old  Hiems'  chill  and  icy  crown, 
An  odorous  chaplet  of  green  leaves  and  flowers 
Is  set." 

There  are  many  trees  in  this  land  that  pass  through 
winter  in  their  beautiful  summer  robes. 

This  evening  at  the  Ridge  Plouse  was  given  to  a  chat 
about  Beethoven,  Mozart,  Hayden,  and  Handel,  and 
last  of  all,  about  Shakspeare.  He  had  written  all  the 
poetry  we  needed  for  a  century  or  two.     He  was  indeed, 

**  Fancy's  child, 
"  Warbling  his  native  wood-notes  wild." 

Carlyle  says,  "  Shakspeare  is  the  greatest  thing  we 
English  ever  did."  But  England,  ere  she  produces  an- 
other, must  gather  new  material — must  acquire  new  deeds 
— historic  and  romantic  life ;  it  must  grow  old — become 
the  past ;  and  then  a  new  Shakspeare  can  sing.  Major 
W.  intends  his  daughters  shall  have  a  complete  education. 
It  will  then  of  course  embrace  the  old  masters — sublime 
old  bards — all  that  the  ancients  said  and  sung.  But  a 
young  lady's  education,  in  our  schools  now-a-days,  is  com- 
plete with  what  Bulwer  said  and  ToM  Moore  sung.  I 
do   not  know  why  they  should  not  read  old  Homer  and 


214  JOTTIXG.S    OF   A   YEAR'S 

Shakspeare.     I  think  they  wrote  admirably  for  girls  and 
boys. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   SOUTHERN   LADY. 

"Of  noble  race  the  Ladye  came." 

Scott. 

In  treating  the  subject  of  this  sketch  one  needs  to  con 
over  his  vocabulary  as  the  painter  would  select  his  colors, 
to  do  with  the  brush  what  w^e  would  do  with  the  pen,  in 
giving  a  portraiture  of  the  Southern  lady.  Tom  Carlyle 
says,  "  Show  me  a  man  whose  words  paint  a  picture,  and 
you  have  somewhat  of  a  man."  We  fear  that,  with  all 
the  mimic  skill  of  our  pen  in  word-painting,  we  shall  fall 
somewhat  short  of  Carlyle' s  man.  Doing  a  picture  in 
words,  and  one  in  oils,  are  two  different  things.  Words 
and  colors  differ. 

"  '  Tis  as  likely  for  paint  to  be  true, 
As  grass  to  be  green  or  violets  blue." 

But  the  same  word  may  have  different  hues.  Green  is 
always  green  in  painting.  The  color  tells  for  itself.  But 
the  word  written  is  more  like  a  chameleon.  You  may  find 
it  light,  pale  or  deep  green.  It  takes  its  hue  from  the 
object  to  which  it  is  applied. 

And  we  apprehend  we  shall  not  be  able  to  give  the  true 
meaning  to  the  term,  lady — the  one  at  least  we  wish  to 
give.  The  origin  of  the  word  is  lost  in  the  obscurity  of 
the  past.  Webster,  hunting  on  the  trail  of  its  etymology 
gives  it  up.  But  let  us  take  the  literary  antiquarian's 
trail  and  go  far  away  back  to  the  olden  time — to  the 

"  Days  of  belted  kniglit  and  lady  fair," 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  215 

when  the  old  ballad  word,  "ladie"  was  used  instead  of 
our  modern  lady.  We  find  one  of  the  old  poets  thus  defin- 
ing lady : 

"Our  ladye  doth  as  far  excede 

Our  women  now-a-days, 
As  doth  the  gillyflower  a  weede, 

And  more  a  hundred  ways." 

We  find  the  following  in  Chaucer — the  "morning  star 
of  our  poetry:" 

"  Then  say'd  he  to  Palamon  the  knight ; 
Cometh  ner,  and  take  your  lady  by  the  hond." 

And  gentle  Will  Shakspeare,  who  created  the  fairies, 
calls  TiTANA,  their  queen,  a  lady. 

"Never  harm,  nor  spell,  nor  charm, 
Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh." 

Spenser,  in  his  "  Garden  of  Proserpine,"  thus  uses 
this  term : 

"  Here  eke  that  famous  golden  apple  grew, 
The  which  among  the  gods  false  Ate  threw ; 
For  which  the  Idean  ladies  disagreed. 
Till  partial  Paris  deemed  it  Venus'  due." 

Here,  says  Jortin,  he  calls  the  three  goddesses,  Juno, 
Minerva,  and  Venus,  that  contended  for  the  prize  of 
beauty,  boldly  but  elegantly  enough,  ladies.     Again, 

"There  he  a  troup  of  dancing  ladies  found." 

Here  the  same  poet  calls  the  Muses  and  Graces,  like- 
wise, ladies. 


'■) 


"Fair  Helenore,  with  garlands  all  bespread, 
Whom  their  May-lady  they  had  made." 


216  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

*  Here  Spenser  makes  May-lady  equivalent  to  May- 
queen.  The  ladies,  says  Todd,  may  be  further  gratified 
by  Milton's  adaptation  of  their  title  to  the  celebrated 
daughters  of  Hesperus,  whom  he  calls  the  '^  Ladies  oi 
the  Hesperides."  To  all  of  which  Leigh  Hunt  remarks  : 
"  The  ladies  of  the  present  day,  in  whom  so  much  good 
poetry  and  reading  have  revived,  will  smile  at  the  vindi- 
cation of  a  word  again  become  common,  and  so  frequent 
in  the  old  poets  and  romancers." 

Throughout  the  whole  history  of  the  Troubadours — those 
lyric  poets  of  chivalry — the  term  lady  is  used  to  denote 
the  noblest  and  fairest  of  women — the  lady-loves  of  kings, 
princes,  lords  and  knights, 

,  "  Who  no  other  care  did  take, 

Than  for  their  sweet  ladies'  sake." 

We  had  almost  said  that  the  word  lad?/  originated  with 
knight  in  the  age  of  chivalry." 

"  An  hundred  knights  might  there  with  ease  abide, 
And  every  knight  a  lady  by  his  side." 

It  was  not  only  the  name  of  their  lady-loves,  but  the 
term  signified  their  highest  conceptions  of  woman.  But, 
at  all  events,  the  term,  whether  used  by  fairy  Spenser, 
with  a  fairy  power,  leading  his  fairy  band,  in  a  fairy  world, 
as  a  fairy  name,  or  whether  he  uses  it  singing  of  love  or 
chivalry,  or  by  Chaucer,  or  Shakspeare  or  Dryden,  or 
by  the  Troubadours  and  Minnesingers  ;  it  is,  in  a  chival- 
resque  sense,  the  name  given  to  the  highest  style  of  woman. 

When  chivalry,  turned  into  a  romance  in  the  minds  of 
those  in  whose  persons  the  thing  itself  existed,  raised  up 
a  fanciful  adoration  of  woman  into  a  law  of  courtly  life, 
or,  at  least,  of  courtly  verse  ;  then  diamond  eyes  and  ruby 
lips  stirred  into  sound  the  lute  of  the  Troubadours  and  the 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  217 

Minnesingers,    and  the  famous  deeds  of  war,  waked  the 
epic  strains  of  the  Troubadours. 

"  And  ladies  left  the  measures  at  the  sight, 
To  meet  the  chiefs  returning  from  the  fight, 
And  each  with  open  arms  embra-ced  her  chosen  knight." 

Thus  having  traced  this  term,  if  not  to  its  origin,  we 
have  at  least  satisfied  ourselves  in  regard  to  its  definition. 
To  the  poet  it  was  the  name  for  the  mistress  of  his  heart, 
whether  real  or  ideal ;  to  the  young  prince,  lord  or  knight 
of  his  real  or  day-dream  love — a  name  allied  to 

"Chivalrie, 
Truth  and  honor,  freedom  and  courtesie." 

Much  has  been  said  about  the  term's  losing  its  import ; 
that  it  is  not  synonymous  with  woman ;  that  the  latter  is 
the  true,  and  the  other  the  false  and  afi*ected  term  for 
woman  now-a-days.  We  are  not  disposed  to  wrangle  about 
the  term's  being  a  misnomer,  but  we  are  very  much  dis 
posed  to  claim  for  the  lady, 

"  In  these  fair  weZZ-spoken  days," 

all  that  was  ever  true,  and  lovely,  and  admirable  in  woman. 
We  have  an  infinite  hate  for  all  that  "cuckoo  croaking" 
about  the  falseness  of  the  lady  of  the  present  day  ;  it  is 
surely  ungallant  in  the  one  sex,  and  very  unlady-like  in 
the  other.  We  hate  it,  because  it  has  a  misanthropic 
obliquity  in  it.  We  think  that  if  the  lady  passes  at  dis- 
count in  our  day,  and  woman  goes  at  a  premium,  it  is  in 
cases  where  the  false  is  mistaken  for  the  true  lady ;  not 
that  we  disparage  the  term  woman,  but  we  are  talking 
about  her  in  her  highest  style. 

The  habits  and  customs  of  difi'erent  lands  constitute  a 
difi"erent  style  of  the  lady  without,  it  may  be,  varying  the 


218  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

essential  qualities  of  either.  To  designate  the  two  we 
have  in  view  we  shall  call  one  the  Saxon,  and  the  other 
the  Norman  type  of  the  lady. 

In  that  hyperborean  region  where  the  daffodil  and  hya- 
cinth do  not  appear  till  mid- April,  womanhood,  like  the 
rose,  does  not  bloom  till  June.  But  in  this  half-tropical 
region,  where  those  flowers  appear  much  earlier,  woman- 
hood blooms  with  the 

"Primrose,  earliest  daughter  of  the  spring." 

The  important  eras  in  a  Southern  lady's  life  are  her 
school-days  ;  and  that  poetic  age  when  ballads  are  made  to 
her  eyebrows  ;  the  meeting  at  the  hymeneal  altar  ;  and  the 
honey-moon  ;  and  then  her  after  life,  while  that  orb  is 

"  Waxing  and  waning  beautifully  less." 

These  periods,  or  these  several  acts  of  their  lives  con- 
stitute the  play  or  melodrama — "  As  you  like  it."  While 
with  our  Saxon  lady  these  several  acts  of  her  life  may 
more  properly  be  called  an  earnest  drama  of — ''As  you 
can  make  it." 

From  a  cursory  glance  at  the  life  of  the  former,  one 
would  call  them — beautiful  idlers.  Their  life  seems  to 
have  no  apparent  purpose.  But  I  have  seen  those  that 
were  as  industrious,  and  that  studied  economy  as  much 
as  their  Norman  cousins.  Besides  the  various  lighter 
employments  of  the  needle,  I  have  seen  rich  Southern 
ladies  sit,  day  after  day,  making  cotton-sacks  for  the 
negroes. 

I  don't  know  how  much  of  the  physical  beauty  of  the 
East  belongs  to  Southern  ladies,  or  whether  any  mention 
has  been  made  of  it,  in  speaking  of  their  physique.  Cli- 
mate has  some  effect  upon  us.     The  old  Greek  poet  says 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  219 

(I  quote  from  memory)  of  a  rough  or  coarse  man  promi- 
nent among  them, 

'*  One  would  swear 
That  lie  was  bred  in  coarse  Boeotian  air." 

A  poet  of  a  later  day  says  of  the  Italian  ladies,  with 
the  glow  of  enthusiasm,  that  they  are 

"  Soft  as  their  clime  and  sunny  as  their  skies. 

"\Ye  have  seen  many  finely  developed  women  in  the 
South,  to  whom,  from  their  native  independent  air  and 
graceful  carriage  in  walking,  the  ''incedit  regina"  of 
Virgil  might  be  applied.  Their  dress,  of  coui'se,  is  rich 
and  fashionable.  They  wear  hundred  dollar  bonnets,  en- 
case the  tiniest  of  pretty  little  hands  in  the  richest  and 
softest  of  gloves,  and  the  tiniest  of  pretty  little  feet  in  the 
richest  and  softest  of  gaiters,  as  Northern  ladies  do. 

The  South  has  properly  no  "country  girls."  Tke 
planter  lives  in  the  rural  districts  as  the  Northern  farmer 
does,  but  there  is  this  difference  in  their  daughters :  the 
one  gets  at  home  a  common  school  education  ;  this  gener- 
ally suffices  her  for  life.  The  planter  educates  his  daugh- 
ters away  from  home — often  at  the  North ;  hence  her 
society  is  equal  to  that  of  the  city  lady.  You  do  not  see 
in  the  country,  South, 

"  Tripping  through  the  silken  grass, 

Down  the  path-divided  dale, 
The  rose-complexioned  lass, 

With  her  well-poised  milking-pail." 

You  do  not  find  the  "milk-maid  half  divine,"  tripping 
"  Down  the  path-divided  dale." 

No.     The  little  divinity  is  in  the  splendid  drawmg-room, 
dabbling  in  a  book,  or  like  Lady  Vere  de  Yere, 


220  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"  She  left  the  novel  half  uncut 

Upon  the  rose-wood  shelf, 
She  left  the  new  piano  shut — 

She  could  not  please  herself." 

Or  she  may  be  in  a  "  cheek  by  jowl"  with  some  Apollo 
Belvidere,  or  away  at  the  North  at  school  while  some 
Hyperborean  gallant  is  throwing  down  his  offerings  at  the 
feet  of  her  goddesship. 

I  have  seen  many  Southern  ladies  who  have  been  edu- 
cated at  the  North,  and  in  part  had  Northern  manners 
and  habits,  and  have  sometimes  thought  that  if  I  wished 
to  draw  a  portrait  of  a  true  Southern  lady,  one  of  the 
"manor  born,"  that  I  should  prefer  one  that  had  been 
educated  at  home.  Of  course,  you  find  many  accomplished 
ladies  among  the  latter.  And  I  have  felt  in  their  society 
as  if  I  was  with  the  true  daughters  of  the  South,  on  their 
own  native  heath,  adorned  with  their  own  heath  flowers, 
i  admire  the  South  because  it  is  really  and  beautifully  the 
sunny  South.  If  it  was  like  the  North  I  should  not  ad- 
mire it  so  much.  And  I  admire  Southern  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen because  they  are  truly  Southern  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. And  far  distant  be  the  day  when  distance  ceases  to 
keep  the  enchantment  in  our  Italics  and  sunny  Souths. 

But  again,  one  feels  in  the  presence  of  Southern  ladies 
as  if  he  was  overshadowed  by  the  same  divinity  of  beauty 
as  wdth  those  at  the  North  ;  that  their  eye-shots  were  just 
as  dangerous,  their  smile  just  as  winning,  their  charms — 
in  fine,  one  feels  as  if  he  was  with  the  daughters  of  Eve, 
only,  from  their  Utopian  lives,  that  they  had  got  back 
into  the  garden  again. 

The  peculiar  traits  in  a  Southern  lady's  character — I 
have  a  chronic  dislike  to  characteristics — would  actually 
rather  have  anything  else  of  one  than  these  mere  tangents 
and  angles.     They  constitute  about  as  much  of  a  person 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  221 

9 

as   a   minister's   notes  do  of  his  sermon — the  articles  of 
faith  of  his  religion — the  accent  or  brogue  of  the  man. 

I  would  as  lief  a  friend  would  present  me  with  a  diction- 
ary for  a  history,  as  the  characteristics  of  a  person  as  hav- 
ing anything  of  a  portraiture  of  him  in  them.  And  worst 
of  all,  they  are  the  first  thing  of  a  person  that  is  babbled 
about.  And,  in  fact,  they  are  very  often  dangerous  to 
have,  because  they  are  the  most  exposed  points  about  one, 
and  easiest  assailed  by  slander.  Mine  has  ever  affected 
me  like  an  unsigned  bank-note — like  a  hole  in  the  meal 
bag. 

That  Southern  ladies  have  characteristics  is  so  palpably 
evident,  that  in  regard  to  it,  I  think  there  is  "no  hinge 
or  loop  to  hang  a  doubt  on."  So  there  the  matter  rests. 
Furthermore,  I  have  noticed  that  they  are  endowed  with 
the  power  of  locomotion,  think,  act,  and  even  eat  as  North- 
ern ladies  do,  but  more  hoe-cake  and  corn-dodger ;  and 
drink  as  they  do,  but  more  of  the  flowing  cups  of  Java ; 
that  their  laugh  is  just  as  silvery — some  think  silverier — 
and  that  they  talk  and  sing  with  all  the  charm  of  voice 
that  the  Southern  throat  will  admit  of.  In  fine,  they  look 
upon  life  as  a  rich  legacy  time  has  bequeathed  them — a 
luxury  to  be  enjoyed.  This,  with  the  other  endowments 
she  has,  and  the  "acres  of  charms"  she  possesses,  is  her 
dower.  What  most  molests  her  in  life  is  time — the  thief ; 
he  steals  away  her  beauty,  robs  her  of  her  charms,  and 
hangs  like  the  ennui  on  her  when  the  various  amusements 
of  her  life  do  not  baffle  him.  The  hot  summer  months  are 
the  dullest  part  of  the  year  to  her,  especially  if  she  does 
not  go  North,  or  spend  them  on  the  sea-coast.  She  is 
apt  to  be  a  bird  of  passage — spending  her  summers  in 
another  clime,  and  her  winters  at  home.  There  is  much 
sunshine  to  her  nature,  and  want  and  care  not  rendering 
her  life  sad  and  gloomy,  it  ought  to  have  a  pleasant  shade. 


222  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

Allow  me  to  half  digress  from  my  subject.  "What  I 
wish  to  allude  to,  we  have  often  talked  of  with  some  of 
our  fair  friends  South  ;  hence,  we  will  give  them  the  merit 
of  originating  the  theme. 

There  are  moods  in  which  woman,  especially,  exhibits 
herself  truthfully,  or  phases  in  which  her  beauty  culmi- 
nates. Charles  Lamb — "  the  gentle  and  frolic" — looked 
the  most  beautiful  when  asleep.  It  was  the  thoughts  of 
disinheriting  her  son  that  made  the  Hungarian  queen, 
Maria  Theresa,  the  peerless  and  beautiful  conqueror. 
Lady  Blessixgton  looked  the  most  queenly,  and  displayed 
all  of  her  charms  sitting  in  her  rich-velveted  chair  receiv- 
ing her  guests.  Hawthorne  says  it  was  "  anger  mixed 
with  scorn,"  or  this  was  the  phase  in  which  the  beauty  of 
Zenobia  culminated. 

It  is  not  an  unpleasant  study,  that  of  attitudes  and 
"poses,"  in  which  the  real  woman  exhibits  herself — 
phases  in  which  we  view  her  in  all  her  picturesqueness. 

I  remember  a  lady  in  this  Southern  clime,  whom  I  had 
seen  often,  and  called  her  beautiful.  I  saw  her  again — a 
mourner,  at  the  funeral  of  her  brother.  I  thought  her 
the  most  beautiful  mourner  I  ever  saw,  and  wished  that 
such  ladies  could  be  multiplied,  and  mourn  for  our  loved 
and  departed  friends.  "Almost  every  passion  became 
this  lady  well,'  but  sorrow  for  the  dead  robed  her  in  lovli-  . 
er  beauty.     Here  then  her  beauty  culminated. 

The  same  lady  overtook  me  some  time  after  this,  in  a 
gallopade,  on  a  proud,  champing  steed,  as  I  was  walking  out 
a  little  past  mid-afternoon  in  company  with  a  friend.  As 
she  reined  her  horse  up  to  us,  I  remember  remarking  to 
my  friend,  that  she  looked  with  her  countenance  animated 
and  flushed  from  her  ride,  as  peerless  and  romantic  as 
Die  Vernon  did  when  she  met  "  cousin  Frank  ;"  and  stop- 
ped a  moment  in  the  chase  to  converse  with   him.     She 


SOJOURN   IN    THE   SOUTH.  223 

looked  the  most  charming  I  had  ever  seen  her.  She  im- 
pressed me  so  at  least.  I  wore  this  impression  for  some 
time,  as  the  finest  picture  of  this  lady.  It  appeared,  com- 
pared mth  the  other,  like  one  of  the  old  masters'  paint- 
ings, compared  with  one  of  our  modern  and  inferior 
artists'.  But  it  was  not  so — grief  had  done  the  other  the 
best.  And  I  retain  her  picture,  to-day,  as  a  beautiful 
mourner — a  real,  genuine  Reubens.  This  lady  had  the 
most  perfect  command  of  her  features — she  could  conceal 
any  emotion.  She  is  a  true  Southern  lady,  with  magna- 
nimity enough  to  talk  on  any  subject,  North  or  South,  as 
fairly  and  earnestly  as  if  they  were  one. 

I  shall  not  draw  a  portrait  of  a  Southern  lady  coleur 
de  rose,  or,  coleur  de  "rouge,"  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
the  South ;  for  I  think  she  would  detect  the  cheat  and  des- 
pise it.  Neither  shall  I  keep  any  merit  of  hers  sub  rosa 
on  account  of  the  pique  that  the  North  may  have  against 
her.  Their  mode  of  life  has  tastes,  habits,  and  peculiari- 
ties of  its  own.  We  might  say  that  their  education  was 
different  from  ours,  yet  it  is  like  ours ;  for  it  is  often  got 
in  our  schools.  But  they  don't  use  it  as  we  do.  In  fact, 
in  the  strict,  practical,  shrewd,  Yankee  sense  of  the  word, 
they  don't  use  it  at  all.  Our  utilitarian  might  think  that 
they  wore  it  as  Fountleroy  did  the  beauty  of  his  wife,  as 
a  brilliant  ornament  of  display,  or  admire  it  as  he  did  his 
daughter — because  she  shone. 

The  appreciation  of  one's  fine  attainments  North  and 
South  is  difi"erent.  Viewed  by  the  keen  practical  eye  of 
the  utilitarian,  one  with  a  mind  embellished  by  fine  culture, 
and  stored  with  the  riches  of  classical  learning,  might 
be  classed  by  him  with,  and  treated  as  he  treats,  the 
poet  Gray — a  poetical  drone,  writing  sonnets  between  de- 
licious fits  of  lounges,  and  noticing  the  coming  of  crocuses 


224  JOTTINGS^  OF  A  YEAR'S 

in  spring,  or  the  first  appearance  of  the  dafibdills  and  prim- 
roses. 

The  Northern  mind  is  so  eminently  practical  and  lucra- 
tive, that  much  that  is  beautiful  in  this  life  is  unenjoyed, 
or  passed  by,  in  the  haste  to  secure  that  which  "  tvillpay.'" 
The  old  "iron  bedstead"  is  in  use,  by  which  a  man  is 
practically  measured,  and  he  sometimes  finds  the  most 
valuable  part  of  him  cut  ofi"  and  thrown  away  as  useless. 
I  could  never  tolerate  that  school  of  progressionists  that 
talk  about  the  "mission  of  the  beautiful,"  as  if  the  beau- 
tiful, like  the  farmer's  barrel  of  beer,  must  work^  or  it 
would  spoil. 

Beauty,  as  old  CoMUS  says,  "is  nature's  brag."  And 
it  is,  in  the  profusion  of  apple-blossoms,  scattered  all  over 
this  beautiful  world  of  ours.  It  is  very  evident  that  "  He 
who  made  this  world  was  no  utilitarian,  no  despiser  of  the 
fine  arts,  and  no  condemner  of  ornament,  and  those  pro- 
gressionists and  religionists  who  seek  to  restrain  every- 
thing within  the  limits  of  cold,  bare  utility,  do  not  imitate 
our  Father  in  heaven."  "The  poetic  mind  is  not  the 
progressive  one  ;  it  has,  like  moss  and  ivy,  a  need  of  some- 
thing old  to  cling  to,  and  germinate  upon."  It  cannot  be 
the  practical  and  lucrative.  But  one,  of  late  years,  would 
think  it  could  not  be  anything  else.  For  our  poets  are 
half  politicians,  tradesmen  or  bankers.  It  can  scarcely 
be  said  of  them — 

"A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him 
And  nothing  more." 

Instead  of  finding  "pansies  for  thoughts,"  it  is — 
"  Dimes  and  dollars,  dollars  and  dimes." 


And  when, 


SOJOUKN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  225 


"  To  tuneful  Apollo 
One  of  them  does  hollo," 


it  is  merely  to  get  his  aid  in  this  "■  Play  of  philanthropy 
and  progress,"  or  some  hints  of  practical  ultility. 

But  to  resume  our  subject  of  "poses."  The  Misses  B. 
were  two  sisters — "two  berries  on  one  stem" — that  finely 
exhibited  each  other's  beauty  by  contrast.  One,  I  used 
to  think  always  appeared  the  most  beautiful  from  this 
contrast,  except  when  alone  some  thought  animated  her, 
and  she  was  more  than  usually  radiant.  I  remember  her 
asking  a  young  gentleman  "  where  he  had  rather  read  his 
destiny;"  and  on  his  replying,  "m  some  lovely  ladys 
eyes^'  the  answer  inspired  her,  for  she  looked  the  most 
beautiful  I  ever  saw  her,  as  she  turned  to  him  and  said, 
"Why  you  ought  to  have  2,  'premium  for  that.'" 

The  younger  sister  was  statuesque.  There  was  no  phase 
or  pose  in  which  her  beauty  culminated.  Some  are  the 
most  graceful  sitting,  some  standing,  and  some  "  can  as- 
sume a  series  of  graceful  positions" — but  this  young  lady 
was  one  of  the  graces.  I  believe  had  she  been  Maey, 
Queen  of  Scotts,  she  could  have  heard  her  death  war- 
rant read  with  a  countenance  unmoved.  Grief,  care,  joy 
or  fear,  usually  give  a  betokening  shadow  from  the  heart 
on  the  face,  but  not  on  hers.  No  thought  or  emotion  of 
the  heart  could  be  traced  on  it.  I  have  tried  to  study  and 
decipher  her  face,  but  in  vain — it  was  the  most  beautiful 
hieroglyphic  I  ever  gazed  upon. 

Her  sister  had  a  countenance  of  fine  phisiological  read- 
ing.    It  varied  in  hues  of  thought  and  expression. 

"There  is  a  face  whose  blushes  tell 

Affection's  tale  upon  the  cheek ; 
But  pallid  at  one  fond  farewell, 

Proclaims  more  love  than  words  can  speak." 
P 


226     ■         .^  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

She  once  remarked  to  me,  after  she  had  been  not  a  lit- 
tle provoked  bj  some  of  her  sister's  tantalizing  freaks, 
when  she  was  in  the  poorest  humor  to  endure  it,  "  Now 
you  have  seen  Miss  H.  B.  as  bad  as  she  really  is." 

I  replied  that  something  might  yet  lurk  behind.  "  No, 
you  have  seen  the  tigress  out  of  the  jungle,"  which  I 
thought  was  more  beautiful  than  dangerous,  '•'•my  counte- 
nance reveals  alV  "But,"  says  she,  pointing  to  her  sis- 
ter who  had  provoked  her  to  this  "  expose,"  "  her  counte- 
nance conceals  all,  you  have  got  to  find  her  out  by  her  ac- 
tions and  conduct ;  her  face  is  marble  to  the  feelings  of 
her  heart  if  she  has  any."  The  latter  stood,  the  while, 
tapping  her 

"  Tin  J,  silken-gaitered  foot" 

on  the  carpet,  witching  us  with  one  of  her  smiles,  and,  af- 
ter she  had  heard  her  sister's  : 
ing  out  of  the  room  singing — 


ter  she  had  heard  her  sister's  remarks  through,  went  glid- 


"Husli  ye,  hush  ye,  little  pet,  ye, 
Hush  ye,  hush  ye,  do  not  fret  ye, 
Or  the  black  Douglas  will  get  ye." 

The  one  sister  should  be  painted,  to  get  her  finest  por- 
trait— at  any  time ;  she  defied  poses  to  make  her  other 
than  what  she  was.  The  other,  in  her  happiest  humor, 
or  when  some  fine  thought  or  beautiful  thing  inspired  her. 
She  had  a  chivalresque  nature,  and  a  finely  cultivated 
mind  and  taste — was  one  of  the  fairest  daughters  of  the 
South — one  educated  at  home. 

Miss  Mollis  P.,  a  friend  of  theirs — was  a  young  lady 
from  Virginia,  spending  part  of  the  winter  with  them. 
Her  buoyant  spirits,  wit  and  mirth,  enlivened  her  counte- 
nance. If  a  cloud  passed  over  her  heart,  nothing  but  an 
almost  imperceptible  change  of  countenance  expressed  it ; 


( 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  227 

the  next  moment  she  was  joyous  again ;  for  there  was  sun- 
shine enough  in  her  nature  to  chase  it  away.  She  was 
somewhere  between  .the  Misses  B.,  but  so  near  the  young- 
er, that  while  her  countenance  expressed  evanescently 
the  emotions  of  her  heart,  the  latter's  did  not  express  it 
at  all. 

Miss  P.  had  one  of  those  hearts,  the  water  of  whose 
fountain  "wells"  or  "  splashes"  up  into  the  eyes  if  a  word 
of  grief  or  sorrow  is  dropped  into  it — it  did  not  remain 
pent  up,  but  found  relief  in  tears.  The  chords  of  her 
heart  were  not  like  the  elder  Miss  B.'s — ^olian,  and  vi- 
bratino;  lono;  to  a  touch  of  o;rief  or  sorrow.  But  there  was 
a  counteraction  in  the  joyousness  of  her  nature  that  stop- 
ped th<3  vibrations. 

Differing  from  either  of  these  was  Colonel  N.'s  young 
and  elegant  lady — the  '^  cousin  Lizzie"  of  Willow  Dale. 
She  was  of  that  faultless  form,  step  and  style  of  beauty 
that  we  rarely  meet,  but  which  novelists  and  poets  often 
do.  She  was  timid  and  affectionate,  with  a  face  that  told 
the  simple  story  of  the  heart.  In  the  person  of  Mrs.  N. 
we  had  the  genteel  lady. 

Here  I  saw  in  contrast,  if  there  was  any,  the  Missis- 
sippi lady  with  the  Virginian.  The  peculiarities  of  ex- 
pression and  habits  were  nearly  one.  Let  them  differ  in 
any  other  respect,  one  expression  "  coalesced"  them  ;  that 
was — "  /  reckon.''  But  "  a  Virginian  never  gets  acclimat- 
ed anywhere  else,  he  never  loses  citizenship  to  the  old 
home."  It  is  to  him  "the  Virginia  of  a  place,"  which 
the  preacher  described  Heaven  to  be  to  a  Virginian  con- 
gregation. 

Mississippi  is  to  the  other  Southern  States  what  the  com- 
posite order  of  architecture  is  to  all  the  other  orders.  You 
seldom  find  two  or  three  ladies  together  from  the  same 
State.     It  is  mostly  newly  settled,  and  has  but  few  native 


228  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

• 

planters.  Hence,  like  a  mirror,  its  society  reflects  the 
various  manners  and  customs  of  the  other  sister  States. 

But  to  resume  our  subject.  In  regard  to  the  complex- 
ion of  the  fair  of  this  clime,  it  is  merely  your  Northern 
brunettes,  blondes  and  beauties  done  a  la  South.  Or, 
more  properly  speaking,  the  former  are  with  correspond- 
ding  darker  shades,  done  in  bronze. 

Their  eyes,  aside  from  having  in  them  the  dreamy  beau- 
ty of  this  clime — 

"Are  made  precisely  like  the  best  -we  kno'W, 
Look  the  same  looks,  and  speak  no  other  Greek, 
Than  your  eyes  of  honey-moons  begun  last  week." 

The  dreamy,  languid  East — the  pleasant,  dreamy  South  ! 
I  don't  know  but  what  climates  do  set  one  a-dreaming — I 
rather  think  they  do.  And  perhaps  the  daughters  of  this 
pleasant  clime  sleep  later  in  the  morning  than  those  of  the 
cold,  driving  North.  Taking  labor  and  business — those 
pleaders  of  early  rising  away,  I  should  think  they  looidd. 
We  none  of  us  get  up  early  for  health.  That  is  too  much 
like  labor ; — and  who  ever  knew  any  one  to  labor  for 
health  ?  Health  is  the  capital  we  spend  for  enjoyment. 
We  labor  for  appetite  and  passion.  Were  they  not  strong, 
our  lives  would  be  day-dreams.  But  I  have  heard  South- 
ern ladies  say  that  there  was  such  a  dreamy  luxury — such 
a  poetical  drowsiness  in  their  mornings — such  a  potent 
charm  in  poppy-distilling  sleep — that  a  Northern  lady 
could  not  resist  its  influence,  any  more  than  they  could 
Circe's. 

This  suggests  the  question — "  How  do  Southern  ladies 
spend  their  time  ?"  Oh,  they  have  an  easy  way  of  doing 
it.  But  let  us  look  over  one  of  their  programmes  for  the 
day. 

After  enjoying  this  delicious  symposium  of  sleep  in  the 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  229 

morning,  she  arises,  makes  lier  toilette — servants  at  her 
bidding — walks  into  her  room,  reads,  or  engages  in  a  chat 
with  some  friend  or  some  one  of  the  family,  or,  to  enjoy 
the  freshness  of  the  morning,  takes  a  walk,  by  which  time 
she  is  summoned-  to  breakfast.  Here,  while  sipping 
the  fragrant  cup  of  Java,  passes  the  chat  at  breakfast- 
table.  The  conversation  is  li'^ly,  and  probably  there  is 
no  place  where  one  enjoys  the  amenities  of  Southern  life 
more  than  at  their  tables.  Besides  the  repast  before  you, 
it  is  really 

"A  feast  of  reason  and  a  flow  of  soul." 

A  bagatelle  for  your  '•  Autocrat  of  the  breakfast-table," 
with  his  out-of-place,  misty,  German,  metaphysical,  indi- 
gestible dish  of  chit-chat,  served  up  as  ^n  olla-podrida  for 
the  public,  but  really  enjoyed  the  most  by  a  Miss  Oliver, 
a  school-mistress,  and  one  Mr.  Wendell,  a  divinity-stu- 
dent, and  a  certain  Mr.  Holmes,  the  Autocrat  who  ordered 
up  the  dish.  "Which  dish,  all  the  public  praise.  Yes,  all. 
And  there  lies  the  error.  You  perceive  it  is  just  this : 
a  few  Savans — the  keen-sighted  Bell-wethers  of  the  flock 
— have  extolled  this  olla-podrida,  that  is,  they  have  leaped 
over  the  stick.  Kow  you  may  take  the  stick  away,  but 
the  rest  in  blind  imitation,  like  sheep,  will  leap  as  they 
did,  till  the  ten  thousandth  one  will  be  found  vaulting  over 
air  as  the  first  did  over  the  stick. 

But  here  the  conversation  is  alwavs  interesting!.  And 
if  pleasui-e  and  mirth  could  arrest  the  flight  of  time,  why, 
surely  here  they  would  beguile  the  "  grey-beard  of  his 
pinions."  While  discussing  your  venison-steak,  your 
duck  or  bird,  a  fresh  bit  of  natui-al  history  mav  bide  with 
them  which  is  narrated  by  the  planter  or  some  one  pres- 
ent, recently  ^rathered  from  the  hunt. 

But  to  our  lady  ;  breakfast  over  she  retires  to  her  room, 


230  ..  JOTTINGS   OF   A  YEAR's 

consults  the  programme  for  the  day,  or  marks  out  one ; 
she  may  have  •  some  light  Tvork  to  do,  or  she  may  take  a 
short  va\k.  At  any  rate,  she  disposes  of  the  morning  or 
forenoon  at  her  pleasure. 

The  evening,  or  her  afternoon,  begins  after  dinner, 
which  is  at  two  o'clock,  and  is  given  to  the  various  needle- 
work, or  she  may  read  a  nttle  in  a  book,  or  play  at  whist 
if  she  has  guests,  or  she  steps  into  her  carriage  and  takes 
a  short  drive,  calls  on  some  lady  friend,'returns,  takes  sup- 
per between  six  and  seven,  and  the  real  evening,  except 
in  the  hot  summer  months,  is  given  to  the  various  games 
of  cards  and  other  amusements.  This  programme,  of 
course,  is  varied  in  different  places,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
true. 

The  following  gem  from  Tennyson's  ''Princess,"  I 
append  at  the  close  of  this  sketch  of  the  Southern  lady. 
Let  its  beauty,  if  nothing  more,  make  ^t  appropriate  here. 

'•  0  swallow,  swallow,  flying,  flying  South, 
Fly  to  her  and  fall  upon  her  gilded  eaves, 
And  tell  her,  tell  her  what  I  tell  to  thee. 

<'  0  tell  her,  swallow,  thou  that  knowest  each  ; 
That  bright  and  fierce  and  fickle  is  the  South, 
And  dark  and  true  and  tender  is  the  North. 

*'  0  swallow,  swallow,  if  I  could  follow,  and  light 
Upon  her  lattice,  I  would  pipe  and  trill 
And  cheep  and  twitter  twenty  million  loves. 

"0,  were  I  thou,  that  she  might  take  me  in. 
And  lay  me  on  her  bosom,  and  her  heart 
Would  rock  the  snowy  cradle  till  I  died ! 

"  Why  lingereth  she  to  clothe  her  heart  with  love, 
Delaying  as  the  tender  ash  delays 
To  clothe  herself  when  all  the  woods  are  green  ? 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  231 

<'  0  tell  her,  s-wallow,  that  thy  brood  is  flown  ; 
Say  to  her,  I  do  but  wanton  in  the  South, 
But  in  the  North,  long  since,  my  nest  is  made. 

**  0  tell  her,  brief  is  life,  but  love  is  long, 
And  brief  the  sun  of  summer  in  the  North, 
And  brief  the  moon  of  beauty  in  the  South. 

"  0  swallow,  flying  from  the  golden  woods. 
Fly  to  her,  and  pipe  and  woo  her,  and  make  her  mine, 
And  tell  her,  tell  her,  that  I  follow  thee." 


THE   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN. 

•  "A  gentleman! 

What,  o'  the  wool-pack  ?  or  the  sugar-chest  ? 
Or  lists  of  velvet?  which  is't,  pound,  or  yard, 
You  vend  your  gentry  by  ?" 

Beggar's  Bush. 

Many  a  wrong  and  pernicious  idea  has  arisen  about  the 
Southern  gentleman,  from  life  at  "Washington — taking 
that  to  be  the  mirror  from  which  our  national  habits  and 
traits  are  reflected — both  Northern  and  Southern.  It  is 
wrong  to  judge  the  South  from  its  Senators  and  Repre- 
sentatives, who  are  in  a  school  where  the  worst  and  basest 
passions  are  brought  out.  I  know,  were  it  put  to  vote 
to-day,  that  the  people  at  large,  either  North  or  South, 
would  not  be  willing  to  take  the  characteristics  of  their 
members  in  Congress,  as  truly  characteristic  of  themselves. 
Think  how  perfectly  ridiculous  a  Scotch  Reviewer — 
in  Blackwood's  Magazine — made  our  model  Republic  and 
people  look,  some  years  ago,  by  taking  a  national  charac- 
teristic from  some  two  or  three  of  our  members  in  Wash- 
ino^ton. 

The  term  gentleman  is  the  masculine  of  lady.  There 
has  been  as  much  babble  about  this  term's  losing  its  sig- 


282  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

nificarxce,  and  becoming  a  misnomer,  as  about  the  term 
lady.  I  don't  know,  in  fact,  but  human  nature  has  lost 
these  masculine  and  feminine  qualities,  and  that  we  can 
only  find  them  as  fossils  in  the  history  of  the  past.  If  it 
were  not  that  they  have  appeared  somewhat  later,  I 
should  really  think  that  they  were  beheaded  with  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  and  Mary,  Queen  of  Scotts.  Yet  they 
have  not  come  down  to  us ;  for  our  modern  Diogenes 
has  failed,  even  by  the  aid  of  his  lantern  at  noon-day,  to 
find  a  solitary  gentleman,  in  all  this  fair  land  of  ours. 
Still,  it  is  ungallant  in  us  not  to  claim  one.  I  positively 
believe  that  these  qualities  are  indigenous  to  civilized 
human  nature.  If  not,  as  a  dernier  shift  for  gallantry, 
as  they  are  so  essential  to  manhood,  depend  upon  it, 
Yankee  shrewdness  and  ingenuity  would  have  invented 
them  ere  this.     But  to  our  theme. 

A  Southern  gentleman  is  composed  of  the  same  material 
that  a  Northern  gentleman  is,  only  it  is  tempered  by  a 
Southern  clime  and  mode  of  life.  And  if  in  this  temper- 
ing there  is  a  little  more  urbanity  and  chivalry,  a  little 
more  politeness  and  devotion  to  the  ladies,  a  little  more 
suaviter  in  modo,  why  it  is  theirs — be  fair,  and  acknowl- 
edge it,  let  them  have  it.  He  is,  from  the  mode  of  life 
that  he  lives,  especially  at  home,  more  or  less  a  cavalier ; 
he  invariably  goes  a-horseback.  His  boot  is  always  spur- 
red, and  his  hand  ensigned  with  the  riding-whip.  Aside 
from  this  he  is  known  by  his  bearing — his  frankness  and 
firmness.  * 

There  is  one  trait  in  a  Southron's  character  which  dis- 
tinguishes him  from  a  Northerner  ;  it  is  his  laconic  man- 
ner of  answering  questions.  His  "  yes,  sir,"  or  "  no,  sir," 
or  the  more  emphatic  "  I  don't  know,  sir,"  are  given  with 
a  positive  emphasis,  and  as  unalterable  as  the  laws  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians.     You  may  ask  him  about  any  matter, 


SOJOUEN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  233 

and  if  there  is  any  doubt  in  his  mind  concerning  it,  his 
invariable  answer  is,  "I  don't  know,  sir."  You  are  an- 
swered once  and  for  all.  There  is  no  use  asking  any  more 
questions  about  it ;  you  cannot  get  him  to  "guess,"  he 
will  get  mad  first. 

A  Yankee,  on  the  other  hand,  would  seem  to  know 
something  about  your  affair.  If  he  could  not  answer  yon 
directly,  he  would  at  least  give  you  some  slight  informa- 
tion concerning  it.  At  any  rate,  if  he  could  do  no  more 
he  would  give  you  the  benefit  of  a  "guess,"  which  might 
be  of  some  consolation  to  you.  Buf  you  get  none  from  a 
Southron.  I  early  learned  to  let  a  Southron  alone  after 
I  had  asked  him  once  about  any  matter.  For  on  every 
attempt  to  ask  him  the  second  time  I  was  sure  to  get  his 
stern,  I  had  almost  said,  rebuke,  "  I  don't  know  sir — I 
have  answered  you  once."     He  cannot  bear  quizzing. 

"  "What  he  does  know,  he  does,  and  you  may  depend  on't, 
"What  he  don't  know,  he  donH,  and  there's  the  end  on't." 

Were  you  seated  in  a  room  of  one  of  ourt  fashionable 
hotels,  you  would  mark  the  Northerner — all  of  them  are 
more  or  less  Yankee — by  his  peculiar  inquisitive  look  at 
every  person  and  thing  as  he  came  into  it.  Or  were  he 
seated  and  reading,  and  you  came  in,  he  would  eye  yon 
askance  from  his  paper — give  you  a  guessing  look  to  find 
out  who  you  were.  You  can  tell  him  by  his  look  of  shrewd, 
"  acrid,  Yankee  observation ;  you  know  him  from  the  native 
propensity  of  his  countrymen  to  investigate  all  matters  that 
come  within  their  range." 

On  the  other  hand,  you  would  know  a  Southron  from 
the  very  reverse  of  this.  He  comes  into  the  room  with 
as  indifferent  an  air  as  if  there  was  no  one  in  it  but  him- 
self, takes  a  chair,  sits  down,  and  takes  a  paper  and  reads. 
Reads  as  long  as  he  pleases,  lays  down  the  paper,  and,  if 


234  JOTTINGS   OF   A  YEAR's 

he  does  not  choose  to  converse  with  any  one,  walks  out  of 
the  room,  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  a  person  or  thing  in 
it.  Yet  he  has  seen,  observed  and  estimated  all.  The 
difference  in  the  two  is — cool  nonchalance  and  prying 
inqmsitiveness. 

You  could  not  be  three  minutes  in  a  dark  room  with  a 
Yankee  without  discovering  him.  He  would,*  if  he  could 
find  nothing  else  to  do,  be  whistling,  or  whittling — ever 
trying  to  bring  things  to  a  point. 

If  he  was  asleep,  pronouncing  one  word  would  start  his 
spirits  as  quick  as  C^SAR  ever  did  a  Roman's,  and  that 
is,  G-ingerhread !  Give  a  Dutchman  his  "sauer  krout,'* 
a  German  his  "  bonny  clabber,"  a  Frenchman  his  "  frogs," 
a  Spaniard  his  "garlic,"  an  Italian  his  "maccaroni,"  but 
don't  deprive  a  Yankee  nf  his  gingerbread. 

A  word  or  two  about  the  chivahy  of  the  Southron.  The 
gallantry  that  would  throw  its  cloak  down  in  the  mud  that 
the  lady  might  walk  over  on  it  without  soiling  her  feet,  I 
believe,  is  considered  as  one  of  the  lost  arts.  But  if  we 
have  any  Raleighs  that  would  be  chivalrous  enough  to 
do  it,  perhaps  they  are  in  the  South.  How  much  of  the 
chivalry  of  the  old  world  that  came  to  America,  sought 
the  South,  I  do  not  know.  Virginia  was  founded  by  that 
most  chivalrous  of  all  adventurers,  Captain  John  Smith, 
with  his  "company  of  gentlemen,"  and  South  Carolina, 
the  Harry  Percy  of  the  Union,  has  ever  been  proud  of 
its  chivalrous  sons  ;  and  many  instances  of  titled  families 
tinged  more  or  less  with  chivalry,  could  be  adduced,  who 
have  sought  the  South,  where  they  could  live  more  to  their 
desire  the  old  baronial  life.  One  such  fjimily  of  noble 
blood  and  proud  spirit,  gave  tone  to  a  whole  region.  The 
rest  caught  honor,  pride,  and  a  love  of  distinction  from  it. 
This  created  a  kind  of  nobility,  and  many  traces  of  it  yet 
exist.  , 

I 


SOJOUKN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  235 

The  two  individuals  that  we  have  been  speaking  of  in 
contrast — kith  and  kin  by  birth — apparently  living  the 
same  lives,  made  up  of  the  same  hours,  months  and  years, 
time  ticks  alike  to  both  of  them,  yet  one,  practically,  is 
the  minute,  and  the  other  the  hour-hand  on  the  dial-plate. 
The  one  does  not  wish  to  lengthen  out  the  year  for  the 
sake  of  gain,  nor  to  curtail  it  for  the  sake  of  speculation, 
as  the  other  does.  He  has  time  in  abundance  and  never 
hurries.  Nothing  would  give  me  more  exquisite  pleasure 
than  to  see  a  real  Southron  in  Wellington's  situation  at 
Waterloo.  I  verily  believe  instead  of  exclaiming  with 
that  hero,  "Oh  !  that  night  or  Blucher  would  come  !" 
he  would  say  something  about  putting  off  the  issue  of  the 
battle  till  Friday  week,  and  beating  Napoleon  at  his  leisure. 

After  I  had  been  in  the  South  some  over  two  months 
on  expense,  and  when  I  began  to  consider  myself  as 
WALTER-the-penniless  on  my  kind  friends'  hospitality, 
without  employment,  I  finally  secured  a  situation  as 
teacher ;  and  on  my  speaking^about  commencing  my  school, 
a  Southern  friend  remarked,  "  0, 1  wouldn't  take  in  school 
yet,  I  would  visit  a  couple  of  months  or  so  longer !" 

Their  clime  is  so  genial,  companionable  and  indulgent 
that  I  think  a  Northerner  that  goes  there  needs  a  sharper 
spur  to  prick  the  sides  of  his  intent.  Nature  is  unloosed 
of  her  stays  there ;  she  is  not  crowded  for  time  ;  the  word 
haste  is  not  in  her  vocabulary.  In  none  of  the  season^  is 
she  stinted  to  so  short  a  space  to  perform  her  work  as  at 
the  North.  She  has  leisure  enough  to  bud  and  blos- 
som— to  produce  and  mature  fruit,  and  do  all  her  work. 
While  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  North  right  the  reverse 
is  true.  Portions  are  taken  off  the  fall  and  spring  to 
lengthen  out  the  wdnter,  making  his  reign  nearly  half  the 
year.  This  crowds  the  work  of  the  whole  year,  you  might 
say,   into  about  half  of  it.     This  is  the  spur  of  labor  to 


JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAU'S 


the  different  seasons,  and  this  is  the  Northerner's,  and  this 
makes  the  essential  difference  between  a  Northerner  and  a 
Southerner.  They  are  children  of  their  respective  climes, 
Ancl  this  is  w]ij  Southrons  are  so  indifferent  about  time ; 
they  have  three  months  more  of  it  in  a  year  than  we  have. 


«■  ■» » 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

STRAY    LEAVES. 

"  Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene, 
The  dark,  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear  ; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air." 

Geay. 

TO   JENNIE  B. 

"  Little  Jennie,  haste,  we'll  go 
To  where  the  white-starred  gowans  grow, 
Wi'  the  puddock  flower  o'  gowden  hue, 
The  snaw-drap  white  and  the  bonny  vi'let  blue. 

Litile  Jennie,  haste,  we'll  go 
To  where  the  blossomed  lilacs  grow, 
To  where  the  pine-tree  dark  and  high, 
Is  pointing  its  tap  to  the  cloudless  sky. 

"Jennie,  mony  a  merrie  lay 
Is  sung  in  the  rich-leafed  woods  to-day  ; 
Flits  on  light  wing  the  dragon-flea. 
An'  hums  on  the  flowerie  the  big  red  bee. 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  237 

Down  the  burnie  wirks  its  way 
Aneath  the  bending  birchen  spray, 
An'  wimples  aroun'  the  green  mass  stane, 
An'  mourns,  I  kenna  why,  wi'  a  ceaseless  mane." 

" These  lines/' says  Hugh  Miller,  "were  addressed 
to  a  docile  little  girl  of  five  years,  my  eldest  sister,  and 
my  frequent  companion,  during  my  illness,  in  my  short 
walks.'' 

"We  have  written  them  here  because  they  are  so  appro- 
priate to  a  little  Jennie — 

"  The  bonniest  little  girl  in  all  the  border," 

about  the  same  age,  and  with  .whom  we  have  taken  many 
a  pleasant-remembered  walk  to  school. 

In  regard  to  whether  you  would  find  the  poetry  true,  to 
be  read  along  our  walk,  I  would  say,  that  the  white-star- 
red gowans,  nor  the  puddock  flower  o'gowden  hue,  nor  lilacs 
grew  along  it.  But  the  poetry  is  just  as  true  and  appro- 
priate. It  took  no  time  at  all  to  substitue  in  the  place  of 
the  above-named  flowers  those  that  grew  along  our  walk. 
To  put  ours  in  might  have  changed  the  measure  of  the 
verse  some,  but  the  poetry  would  have  been  just  as  lovely, 
only  it  would  be  fragrant  with  Southern,  instead  of  High- 
land flowers,  and  have  the  "hum"  and  "wirk"  and 
"wimple"  of  Southern  "bees  and  burmes,"  instead  of 
those  it  has.  The  burnie,  though,  was  the  willow-skirted 
Yazoo,  that 

"Wimpled  roun'  the  green  mass  stane, 

An'  mourns,  I  kenna  why,  wi'  a  ceaseless  mane." 

Few  people,  it  is  said,  know  how  to  take  a  walk.  But  if 
birds  know  how  to  sing,  and  brooks  to  tinkle,  little  Jennie 
knew  how  to  take  a  walk.  And  I'm  sure  the  "  how"  nev- 
er occurred  to  me  in  these  walks  of  ours. 


238  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAH'S 

The  morning  was  a  delightful  one.  As  I  walked  out  in 
the  garden  the  sun  was  just  rising.  His  first  beams  came 
struggling  through  a  hazy  mist,  which  soon  began  to  glow 
with  their  hues,  till  it  became  a  lovely,  golden  robe,  hang- 
ing about  the  morn.     It  was  Aurora  in  dishabille. 

At  the  usual  hour  little  Jennie  and  I  started  out  for 
school,  a  walk  of  some  three-quarters  of  a  mile. 

On  our  going  out  of  the  yard,  a  mocking-bird  and  ori- 
ole were  singing  from  the  China-trees,  as  we  passed  under 
them.  But  every  note  that  the  latter  poured  forth  the 
former  caught  and  re-sung  it,  till  the  oriole  got  provoked 
and  stopped  singing.  The  mocking-bird  then  went  on, 
but  its  notes  were  fitful — he  did  not  finish  a  single  strain. 
I  soon  saw  the  cause :  he  was  angry  because  we  had  stop- 
ped and  were  listening  to  him,  and  would  now  and  then 
give  a  note  by  way  of  taunt  at  us,  then,  imitating  the  cat- 
bird, he  would  look  at  us,  ruffle  up  his  feathers,  and  give 
a  '^  squall.'' 

We  then  sauntered  out  the  gate.  The  road  to  school 
first  passed  a  beautiful  open  wood  on  our  left,  the  mur- 
muring Yazoo  on  the  right.  I  really  thought  nature  had 
studied  her  toilet  with  more  than  usual  taste  this  morn. 
Had  the  birds  babbled  it  out  that  Jennie  and  I  were  go- 
ing to  play  truant  to-day,  and  ramble  about  in  the  woods, 
instead  of  going  ^o  school.  The  forest  was  in  its  auturan- 
nal  robe,  and 

"Like  a  ricli  beauty  ■u-laeii  her  bloom  is  lost, 
Appeared  with  more  magnificence  and  cost." 

In  many  places  beautiful  bowers  were  formed  along  our 
walk,  bv  the  muscadine  and  trailin<]^  vines  that  clambered 
from  branch  to  branch  of  clustering  trees,  making  a  thick 
thatch-work  over  head,  then  fell  down  in  green  and  grace- 
ful festoons,  to  the  ground  all  around  you. 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  239 

"  Oh,  what  a  pretty  j^lace  to  keep  school  in  !"  shouted 
little  Jennie,  as  we  passed  one  of  uncommon  beauty. 
Then  she  would  run  on  ahead  of  me — her  bonnet  in  her 
hand — and  snatch  a  mossy  ringlet  from  the  lower  limb  of 
a  tree,  put  it  around  her  neck  and  run  on  again,  as 
light  as  a  little  fairy.  Coming  to  a  radiant  cluster 
of  crimson  leaves  in  the  center  of  a  green  bower  of  grape- 
vines, she  stopped,  and  clapping  both  her  little  hands  in 
ecstasy,  shouted —  .  • 

"  Oh  how  pretty — how  pretty  !  isn't  that  pretty  ?"  "I 
wish  I  had  it  to  carry  to  school  to  stick  in  the  wall  over 
my  seat."  Then  again  seeing  a  squirrel  run  across  our 
path  or  up  a  tree,  she  would  clap  her  hands  and  shout  at 
the  little  fellow,  who,  as  if  in  play  with  her,  would,  as  he 
scampered  off,  raise  his  tail  by  way  of  huzza.  We  then 
told  her  about  the  Lapland  squirrels  crossing  the  river. 
How  they  came  in  large  numbers  to  the  bank,  where  each 
would  get  a  piece  of  bark  as  large  as  he  could  carry — 
''tote"  it  down  to  the  water's  edge,  get  on  it — launch  it 
off  from  the  shore,  and  trust  to  wind  and  wave  to  drift 
them  on  their  little  crafts  to  the  other  side.  Hundreds 
crossed  in  this  way,  and  hundreds  got  drowned. 

Thus  finding  topics  in  scenes  and  sights  around  us,  we 
chatted  om*  way  to  school,  little  Jennie  as  happy  and 
joyous  as  a  bird.  Now  and  then  a  steamer  would  come 
splashing  along  up  or  down  the  Yazoo,  when  she  would 
stop  and  point  out  to  me  some  one  of  the  passengers  she 
knew  on  board. 

After  the  woods  had  discontinued  on  our  left,  a  vast 
cotton-field,  then  in  all  of  its  snowy  bloom,  spread  out  be- 
fore us.  How  often  I  have  loitered  on  my  way  to  school, 
like  a  little  truant,  and  got  up  on  the  fence,  after  lifting 
little  Jennie  up,  and  stood  and  admired  this  cotton-field. 
There  is  no  scene  in  nature  that  has  so  much  of  gorgeous 


240  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

beauty  in  it  as  this.     "Beauty,"  as  we  have  said,  "is Na- 
ture's brag ;"  but  here  she  must 

"Tax  her  eulogistic  powers, 


And  scream  and  shout — beautiful!  for  hours." 

As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach — ecelum  undique  et  undi- 
que — a  field  of  mimic  snow.  If  I  have  any  indellible  pic- 
ture of  the  South  hanging  up  in  the  gallery  of  my  mind, 
it  is  one  of  'her  cotton-fields.  Why  don't  some  of  our 
Claudes  or  Salvator  Rosas  give  us  a  scene  with  a  cot- 
ton-field in  it  ?  A  picture  with  one  of  their  rivers  with 
its  wood-skirted  banks  for  its  fore-ground — and  then 
through  an  opening  in  the  willow  foliage,  catch  a  view  of 
a  fine  cotton-field  and  plantation. 


MISS  sallie  p.  and  her  little  black 

MAID   OF   HONOR. 

* '  She  sees  a  little  child  at  play, 
Among  the  rosy  wild  flowers  singing, 

As  rosy  and  as  wild  as  they ; 
Chasing,  with  eager  hands  and  eyes, 
The  beautiful  blue  damsel-flies, 
That  fluttered  round  the  jasmine  stems,    . 
Like  winged  flowers  or  flying  gems." 

Moore. 

Miss  Sallie  was  a  redoubtable  little  romp,  and  made  a 
play-fellow  of  Mary,  her  little  black  maid  of  honor,  who 
was  her  constant  attendant  in  school  and  out.  She  was 
as  much  attached  to  her  as  she  would  hav<3  been  to  a  sis- 
ter— she  was  all  the  sister  she  had.  In  all  of  her  gam- 
bols and  pranks  little  Mary  was  with  her.  She  went 
with  her  to  school — she  went  with  her  visiting — she  went 
with   her   bird-resting — she  went  with  her  nutting — she 


SOJOURN  IN  .THE   SOUTH.  241 

went  with  her  berrying — she  went  with  her  everywhere. 
She  was  in  all  of  her  little  schemes — shared  all  the  perils 
and  delights  of  her  adventures — climbed  with  her  all  the  for- 
bidden fences — went  in  all  the  forbidden  places — waded  in 
all  the  forbidden  brooks — and  was  siamesed  with  her  in  the 
secret  to  keep  them  all  from  her  mamma.  Either  would  have 
been  whipped,  and  have  borne  the  puishment  like  a  little 
martyr,  ere  she  would  have  exposed  the  other. 

If  Miss  Sallie  had  strayed  away  from  her  and  found 
anything  that  excited  her  curiosity,  the  "  ho,  Mary  !"  was 
sure  to  be  heard  as  the  signal  of  joy  for  her  to  come  and 
share  the  "  honny-houclte'  with  her. 

On  leaving  the  house  in  the  morning  it  was  my  custom 
to  give  the  "ho,  for  school  I"  from  the  veranda,  as  I  went 
out.  It  was  answered  by  a  shout  and  halloo  by  the  little 
folk  of  Willow  Dale,  as  they  sauntered  out  the  hall  or 
gate. 

Our  some-over-half-a-mile  walks  to  school  abounded 
with  their  wild  gambols  und  freaks,  in  which  Miss  Sallie 
was  the  leader.  They  made  little  sorties  upon  everything 
they  met.  The  wood-peckers  were  stoned — the  squirrels 
were  chased  along  the  fence — the  blacli-birds  were  pelted 
— the  geese  were  routed — and  the  pigs  were  cornered  and 
driven  into  the  river. 

A  venerable  old  sycamore  that  stands  on  the  bank  of 
the  river  along  our  walk,  is  memorable  in  the  history  of 
their  mad  pranks.  They  had  chased  a  large  fox-squirrel, 
one  day,  up  this  tree,  into  a  hole,  about  mid-way  from  the 
ground  to  its  top,  and  besieged  him  with  a  shower  of 
stones  till  I  called  them  away.  But  every  time  after 
this  that  they  passed  this  tree,  "like  the  "dog  Noble" 
barking  at  the  "hole  in  the  wall,"  they  would  stop  and 
stone  this  squirrel. 

My  instructions  in  regard  to  Miss  Sallie,  during  our 

Q 


242  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

recess  at  scliool,  given  me  by  Mrs.  P.  were,  not  to  let  her 
pull  her  shoes  and  stockings  off  and  wade  into  the  water  for 
craw-fish  or  minnies,  or  into  the  bayou  among  the  alliga- 
tors ;  for,  she  remarked,  She  is  a  perfect  little  naturalist, 
and  is  ever  straying  off,  and  making  explorations. 

Miss  Sallie  and  little  Mary  were  good  singers.  It 
was  amusing  to  me  to  hear  them  as  they  walked  to  school, 
each  carrying  by  turns  the  dinner-basket  on  her  arm,  sing 
their  little  ditties ;  and  among  others  a  famous  poetical 
song  of  "  '56,"  pleased  me  most;  and  of  which  I  remem- 
ber this  verse : 

"  The  Mustang  colt  lias  a  killing  pace, 

Du  dah,  du  dah. 
And  bound  to  win  the  White-House  race, 

Du  dah,  du  dah  day. 
I'm  bound  to  run  all  night,  I'm  bound  to  run  all  day, 
I'll  bet  my  money  on  the  Mustang  colt,   will  anybody  bet  on  the  gray. 

Du  dah,  du  dah  day." 

But  there  was  another  association  connected  with  this 
song  that  gave  a  piquancy  to  its  memory.  In  the  "  cam- 
paign of  '56"  Senator  Douglas  addressed  a  mass  gather- 
ing of  Democrats  in  Michigan.  After  he  had  got  through, 
the  applauding  crowd  called  loudly  for  their  favorite  ora- 
tor, John  VanArman  Esquire,  whom  they  played  on  all 
great  occasions,  as  the  right  bower  of  Democracy  in  their 
State.  He  came  forward  and  made  one  of  his  most  forci- 
ble and  telling  speeches,  during  which,  in  one  of  his  in- 
imitable tirades  of  wit  and  sarcasm  against  the  Black  Re- 
publicans, he  scattered  fragments  of  this  song,  as  speci- 
mens of  the  sound  logic  and  argument  they  used  to  sustain 
their  cause,  closing  now  and  then  a  glowing  period,  by 
way  of  illustration,  with  the  euphonious  chorus — 

"  Dndah,  du  dah  day," 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  243 

till  his  Rabelias  wit  shook  the  sides  of  the  "little  giant" 
with  lauo;hter." 

Another  instance  connected  with  her  and  her  little  at- 
tendant I  ncA^er  shall  forget. 

There  is  a  small  lakelet  lying  out  in  front  of  the  school- 
house,  about  as  large  as  a  village  garden.  Mary  had 
thrown  some  trifle  of  value  to  one  of  the  pupils  into  it, 
and  Stanley  P.,  Miss  Sallie's  oldest  brother,  determin-' 
ed  that  she  should  get  it  out  again,  stood  over  her — for 
she  had  thrown  herself  crying  on  the  ground — with  a  whip, 
about  to  "lay  it  on,"  because  she  would  not  wade  in  and 
get  it  out  again. 

At  this  moment  Miss  Sallie,  a  little  distance  off, 
caught  sight  of  him,  and  with  the  bound  of  a  fawn,  she 
sprang  towards  them,  and  like  a  little  Pocahontas, 
threw  herself  on  her  little  waiting  maid,  and  shielding 
her  from  the  falling  blow,  looked  up  and  cried — "  Strike, 
my  brother  !  strike  your  dear  sister ;  but  don't  you  touch 
my  Mary." 

I  saw  all  this  from  my  school-room  door.  The  pupils 
had  all  stopped  their  play,  and  stood  looking  on  with  fixed 
attention.  It  was  a  scene  worthy  of  the  pencil  of  a 
Claude  or  the  pen  of  a  Cooper. 


A  ROMAUNT. 

*'  'Tis  true— 'tis  pretty, 
And  pretty  as  'tis  true." 

Miss  Fannie  S.  and  Laura  W.  are  daughters  of  very 
wealthy  parents.  The  family  of  the  latter  is  among  the 
first  in  the  South;  the  other  affluent  and  of  high  stand- 
ing. The  daughters  were  young  and  admired.  They 
were — but  I  am  an  odd  hand  at  describing   beauty,  and. 


244  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

furthermore,  the  latter  will  appear  in  their  actions  ;  and 
for  once,  let  the  old  adage — "  Handsome  is  that  handsome 
does,"  have  its  full  meaning  out." 

There  is  more  beauty  in  a  good  deed — more  real,  essen- 
tial prettiness,  than  in  all  the  beautiful  coquettes  that 
were  ever  out-coquetted  by  their  own  mirrors ; — yes,  real 
brilliancy. 

"  How  far  that  little  candle  throws  its  beams  ! 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  this  naughty  world." 

I  am  not  going  to  tell  a  story  of  charity — a  heroic  act 
of  a  benevolent  nature.  Let  newspapers  have  the  deeds 
of  charity  and  benevolence,  for  a  while  ;  I  am  not  in  that 
vein  to-day.  I  am  to  relate — well,  a  benevolent  deed,  if 
you  like,  with  the  wild  prank  of  a  city  girl  in  it. 

In  that  most  delightful  of  Southern  cities,  L.,  like  a 
thing  of  picturesque  beauty,  on  the  Southern  bank  of  the 
matchless  Ohio — the  home  of  one  of  our  finest  poets,  and 
so  late  the  home  of  that  lovely  HeMxIXS  of  ours — the  her- 
oines of  my  story  lived. 

The  father  of  Fannie  S.  was  a  banker,  and  like  all  of 
that  class  of  men,  he  was  noted  for  his  shrewd  common 
sense.  He  loved  his  daughter  because  she  was  the  richest 
jewel  in  all  his  possessions.  It  was  during  a  crisis  in  the 
times — a  stress  in  money-matters,  and  when  want  among 
the  poor  asked  alms  in  the  street,  after  the  charities  of 
the  mansions  and  cottages  had  been  sought,  that  we  fix  the 
event  of  our  story.  It  was  a  time,  too,  when,  as  usually 
is  the  case,  your  charities  were  often  given,  not  to  the 
poor,  but  to  the  lazy  and  dishonest.  Business  men  are 
shrewd,  but,  as  we  have  said,  bankers  are  shrewder. 

Mr.  S.  was  not  a  benevolent  man.  At  least,  in  his 
charities,  he  gave   his  own  limits  to  the  significance   of 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  245 

that  word.     Asking  more  than  that  of  him,  was  sure  to 
meet  Ayith  his  imperturable — No. 

The  day  before  the  principal  scene  in  our  story  was 
laid,  the  diflferent  committees  of  many  of  the  charitable 
societies  of  the  city  of  L.  had  been  collecting  their  usual 
gratuities  of  the  citizens,  and  as  if  to  test  the  benevolence 
of  the  place,  the  citizens  were  almost  besieged  by  the  beg- 
gars in  the  streets.  It  was  towards  the  end  of  this  day — 
the  loveliest  part  of  it,  that  a  group  of  young  ladies  were 
chatting  beneath  the  rural  shade  in  the  front  grounds  of 
Mr.  W.'s  noble  residence.  They  were  several  friends  and 
mates  of  Miss  W.,  who  had  been  visiting  her  during  the  af- 
ternoon. After  the  usual  topics  incident  to  such  a  knot  of 
young  ladies  had  been  prattled  over  and  expatiated  upon, 
begging,  then  so  common,  was  introduced.  During  the  con- 
versation something  was  said  about  Mr.  S.,  the  baker,  of  his 
cold  selfishness,  at  which  one  of  the  more  sanguine  rather 
eloquently  remarked,  that  she  would  pay  a  forfeit  of  so 
much  to  the  beggar-girl  that  would  get  one  penny  from  this 
gentleman.  Yes,  she  would  defy  the  shrewdness  and  decep- 
tion of  a  Gipsey  beggar,  with  all  of  their  art  at  begging,  and 
with  even  the  beauty  of  his  daughter  Fannie  to  affect  his 
golden  heart  one  farthing's  worth.  There  was  no  assail- 
able p'oint — no  "  heel  of  Achilles" — to  this  banker.  He 
had  been  completely  immersed  in  the  Styx.  His  heart, 
like  his  treasures,  was  locked  up  in  a  salamander  safe.  This 
was  said  in  such  an  earnest  manner,  and  seemed  so  true 
that  not  one  of  the  young  ladies  seemed  to  doubt  it  for  a 
moment.  This  closed  the  conference.  The  young  ladies 
bade  their  friend.  Miss  W.,  good  evening,  and  went  home. 

It  is  mid-afternoon,  in  one  of  the  principal  streets  of 
L.,  whose  broad  center  is  alive  with  drays,  carts  and  car- 
riages, passing  and  re-passing,  and  on  each  side  of  which, 
over  the  solid  pavement,  flows,  fluent  and  refluent,   its 


246  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

usual  current  of  people,  with  here  and  there  an  isolated 
group  standing  like  an  island  in  either  current.  To  one 
of  these  groups  I  will  direct  jour  attention.  It  is  com- 
posed of  three.  The  principal  jBgure  you  recognize  is 
Mr.  S.  The  other  two  are  beggars.  They  appear  to  be 
decent  looking  young  women,  but  poorly  clad.  They 
appeal  to  Mr.  S.  for  something  for  their  poor  sick  mother. 
But  they  have  heard  the  imperturable  No^  from  him,  and 
he  is  about  to  go  on,  when  an  accent  in  the  voice  of  one 
of  the  females  arrests  his  attention.  There  is  something 
in  the  accent — the  tone  of  the  human  voice,  at  times,  that 
has  the  charm  of  magic  upon  one's  feelings ;  it  awakens 
the  dearest  memories  of  our  lives.     It  is  a  touch  of  nature. 

Willis,  who  has  many  felicitous  touches  in  his  writings, 
represents  Taglioni  as  being  enchanted  as  she  catches, 
in  one  of  her  performances  on  the  stage,  strains  of  music 
she  had  heard  in  her  childhood. 

And  young  Harry  Bertram,  while  wandering  over  the 
craggy  hillside  of  Ellongowan  Hight,  catches  a  strain  in 
the  song  of  a  Gipsey  girl  that  is  washing  by  a  fountain  at 
the  foot  of  the  slope,  that  awakens  the  memories  of  his 
lost  youth.  He  thinks  of  a  fragment  of  an  old  song  he 
once  knew — he  listens — she  sings  it.  He  wonders  why  it 
is,  that  the  memories  of  his  chilhood  are  so  vividly  brought 
before  him.  Why  should  the  song  of  that  Gipsey  girl  * 
affect  him  thus  ? 

You  see  that  an  accent  of  this  beggar  girl's  voice  has 
arrested  Mr.  S.'s  attention.  He  does  not  know  why,  but 
his  stoicism  begins  to  relent,  and  he  feels  inclined  to  hear, 
at  least,  what  she  has  to  say.  A  few  words  tell  the  sad 
story  of  their  poverty  and  wretchedness,  and  ere  she  gets 
through,  the  girl,  gaining  confidence  from  the  assurance 
that  Mr.  S.  is  more  and  more  interested  in  what  she  has 
to  say,  raises  her  head  and  he  catches  a  full  view  of  her 


SOJOURX   IX  THE   SOUTH.  247 

face,  Tvhicli  he  had  not  done  before.  He  knew  not  why, 
but  she  seemed  to  him  his  beautiful  Fannie,  in  rags,  plead- 
ing for  bread  to  carry  home  to  her  poor  sick  and  starving 
mother.  This  touched  his  heart.  He  put  his  hand  into 
his  pocket,  and  taking  out  a  gold  dollar  remarked  as  he 
gave  it  to  her,  "  I  never  saw  a  girl  look  so  much  like  my 
daughter  Fannie  as  you  do.  Take  this  as  a  compliment 
to  that  resemblance,  and  for  your  sick  mother."  And  he 
left  them. 

In  the  fine  residence  of  Mr.  S.,  at  evening,  the  family 
were  seated  as  usual  at  table.  The  story  of  Mr.  S.'s  giv- 
ing the  gold  dollar  to  the  beggar  girl  was  related  by  him- 
self, and  listened  to  with  much  interest  by  the  family. 

Some  time  after  this  the  subject  chanced  to  occur  in 
the  chat  at  the  dinner-table.  Then  you  think,  said  Miss 
Fannie,  that  one  of  the  beggar  girls  resembled  me,  do 
you  ?  Her  father  replied  that  he  did.  She  then  informed 
him  that  those  two  beggar  girls  were  now  in  two  of  the 
most  affluent  and  respectable  families  in  their  city,  and 
not  only  that,  they  were  much  esteemed  by  the  inmates 
of  those  families.  He  felt  some  little  pleasure  in  hearing 
this  ;  it  might  be  that  the  gold  dollar  had  been  the  means 
of  doing  something  of  it.  He  inquired  in  what  families 
they  were.  She  would  inform  him  at  supper,  and  as  they 
were  to  visit  Biddie,  their  servant  girl,  that  afternoon,  he 
might  have  the  opportunity  of  seeing  them  if  he  wished. 

Miss  W.  was  Fannie's  guest  that  afternoon  ;  they  were 
schoolmates,  friends,  and  in  love  and  affection  were  wedded 
to  each  other. 

After  the  usual  tea-table  cha^  something  was  said  by 
Mr.  S.  about  the  conversation  at  dinner.  Miss  Laura 
and  Fannie  had  retired  to  another  room,  when  Mrs.  S. 
replied  that  if  he  would  step  into  the  other  room,  she 
would  introduce  him  to  the  young  ladies  of  gold-dollar 


248  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

memory.  He  complied,  and  was  introduced  to  two  young 
women  resembling  those  he  had  seen  in  the  streets  enough 
to  distinctly  recognize  them.  He  addressed  them  a  few 
words  about  their  sick  mother,  to  which  they  replied  very 
prettily,  that  she  was  well.  He  then  inquired  for  Miss 
Laura  and  Miss  Fannie.  One  of  the  young  ladies  replied, 
taking  off  her  bonnet  and  showing  one  of  the  loveliest  of 
faces,  and  looking  at  him  with  all  the  playful  witchery  of 
a  pair  of  charming  eyes,  "  Don't  you  think,  Mr.  S.,  that 
there  is  something  very  FANNiEsque  about  me  ?"  and  then 
pointing  to  her  friend,  who  had  also  unbonneted  her  head, 
"  and  don't  you  think  this  young  lady  looks  exceedingly 
LAURAEsque?" 

The  surprise  had  been  sprung  upon  him  so  suddenly 
that,  for  a  moment,  his  mind  wavered  between  a  recogni- 
tion of  them  and  the  ruse  they  had  played  him,  so  much 
so  that  he  wondered  who  they  were. 

But  while  he  was  thus  pondering,  it  was  but  the  work 
of  a  moment,  their  beggar  dresses  that  they  had  merely 
slipped  on  over  their  others,  were  thrown  off  and  Miss 
Fannie  S.,  and  Miss  Laura  W.,  stood  before  him. 

"Capital!  capital!"  exclaimed  Mr.  S.,  who  had  now 
emerged  from  the  unpleasant  perplexity  the  surprise  had 
thrown  him  into,  "  this  is  capital !  You  deserve  a  rich 
'  benefit'  for  this.  But,  you  witching  rogues,  don't  you 
babble  this  about!"  There  was  an  exposm-e  of  himself 
about  the  farce  that  he  did  not  like,  after  all. 

Miss  Fannie  resumed,  "  My  dear  father,  the  play  is 
out.  I  know  it  sounds  trite,  but  it  is  just  as  true,  when  I 
say  there  is  a  moral  to  it.  You  have  met  your  daughter 
Fannie  many  a  time  in  rags  and  wretchedness  in  the 
streets  of  this  city ;  her  equals  in  beauty,  affection,  love 
and  worth.  The  only  difference  is,  this  meaner  garb, ' '  pomt- 
ing  to  the  one  she  had  just  thrown  off,  "and  this  princely 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  249 

mansion,  and  that  wretched  hut  yonder,"  referring  to  the 
beggar's  home.  "  You  were  not  cheated  last  week,  when 
Miss  Laura  "VY.,  and  your  daughter  Fannie  asked  alms 
of  you.  They  were  cheated  in  you — they  mistook  you  for 
a  benevolent  man,  but  found  that  your  benevolence,  like 
the  frozen  fountain,  wanted  thawing  before  it  would  flow. 
This  is  all,  save  the  sequel.  Now  for  that,"  she  cried,  as 
she  turned  to  her  friend.  "  I  accepted  the  challenge  so 
boastingly  given  the  other  day,  to  touch  the  '  heel  of 
Achilles'  in  my  father's  heart.  I  have  done  it.  But 
others  must  know  it.  I  understand  that  there  is  a  pretty 
reward  pledged  to  the  winner  of  this  citadel." 

The  following  note  was  elegantly  penned  and  sent  to 
the  young  ladies  whom  we  have  noticed  in  the  first  part 
of  our  story  as  giving  the  challenge. 

Respected  Ladies : 

Your  Achilles  has  been  conquered.     The 

arro"vr  of  Pakis  has  laid  him  low.     I  claim  your  forfeit. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Fannie  S. 
Miss  Jennie  Maxon. 

"    Emma  Wilton. 

"    Annie  Butler. 

"    Mary  Carter. 

This  story  is  true.  Should  you  ever  take  a  trip  down 
the  "Great  Father-of- waters,"  one  of  the  finest  steamers 
on  that  magnificent  river  would  be  pointed  out  to  you  bear- 
ing the  name,  as  a  tribute  to  her  worth,  of  the  heroine  of 
our  story* 

THE  NORTHERN  SCHOOL-GIRL    THAT    WISHED 
TO  BE   PUT   IN  MY   BOOK. 

"And  ne'er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace 
A  nymph,  a  naid,  or  a  grace, 
Of  finer  form  or  lovelier  face ! 


250  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR's 

•if-         *         *         *         * 

And  though  no  rule  of  courtly  grace 

*     To  measured  mood  had  trained  her  pace — 

A  foot  more  light,  a  step  more  true, 

Ne'er  from  the  heath-flower  dashed  the  dew." 

Scott. 

Put  her  in  my  book  !  Why,  I  could  not  catch  the  sylph 
to  put  her  in.  But  could  I  do  it,  this  volume  would  be 
more  attractive  than  the  Florence  gallery  with  the  Medic- 
ian  Venus  in  it.  It  would  exhaust  the  ten  thousandth 
edition,  with  such  an  attraction,  among  the  beaux  of  our 
land  alone.  And  as  many  belles  would  purchase  it  to 
attract  the  beaux.  It  would  be  a  literary  work  of  the 
most  popular  belle-and-beaux  style.  Everybody  would  be 
enamored  of  it  and  read  it  continually.     And  I, 

"  As  soon  as  my  book  appeared  in  print, 

Why,  I — should  fall  in  love  with  the  beauty  in't." 

"Why,  the  pretty  will-o'-the-wisp  is  already  the  heroine 
of  many  an  unwritten  romance,  with  their  scenes  laid  in  a 
beautiful  rural  village  in  the  breezy  West,  about  a  pretty 
cottage  peeping  out  from  its  wealth  of  shrubbery  ;  and  in 
and  about  a  school-house  with  its  parliament  of  girls  and 
boys  ;  with  episodes  in  moonlight  walks  with  her  playmate 
lovers,  and  May-parties  in  which  she  is  the  Queen  Heroine. 

But  she  wishes  to  be  put  in  my  book.  Then  here  she  is 
in  five  letters — F-k-a-n-k — Frank,  that's  all.  And  there 
she  goes  again,  romping  along  the  streets  with  her  play- 
mates— the  lassie  Yeenon  of  the  village,  always  as  wel- 
come among  her  friends  as  flowers  in  May. 

As  I  have  seen  her  coming  home  from  school  chatting 
along  the  way  with  her  schoolmates,  as  happy  as  a  bird, 
I  have  often  wondered  what  she  thought  of  herself.  She 
knew  that  she  was  beautiful,  for  she  read  it  in  the  length- 
ened gaze  of  the  passer-by,  and  the  fond  attachment  of 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  251 

her  playmates,  and  the  smiles  and  caressing  Tvords  of  her 
teachers.  But  it  did  not  make  her  vain.  Whom  Venus 
loves  Minerva  slights.  Frank  had  wisdom  enough  not 
to  be  vain  of  her  beauty.  Unlike  coquettes,  she  never 
got  drunk,  or  even  tipsy,  over  the  intoxicating  beverages 
of  her  glass.     Put  her  in  a  book  ! 

"  I  guess  it  were  beautiful  here  to  see 
A  girl  so  playful  and  frolic  as  she, 
Beautiful  exceedingly." 

*'  For,  loving  girl,  thou  seemest  to  be 
All  music,  love,  and  poetry." 

"  Across  thy  cheek  in  thy  young  glee, 
I've  -watched  thy  -wild  thoughts  come  and  go, 

Like  rose  hues  on  the  evening  sea, 
Or  sunset  shadows  on  the  snow — 
Why  thy  young  soul  looked  from  thine  eyes 
Like  a  sweet  cherub  from  the  skies. 

"  Naught  ever  shades  thine  eyes'  rich  hue, 
Save  those  young  curls  as  bright  and  fair 

As  if  the  sunshine,  glancing  through. 
Had  chanced  to  get  entangled  there. 

Ah  !  nobler  hearts  than  wealth  e'er  bought, 

In  those  bright  meshes  will  be  caught." 


REMINISCENCES. 

<'  Why  all  this  toil  for  triumphs  of  an  hour  ? 

What  though  we  wade  in  wealth  or  soar  in  fame  ? 
Earth's  highest  station  ends  in — '  Here  he  lies,' 

And  '  dust  to  dust'  concludes  her  noblest  song." 

*'  Speak  of  me  as  I  am ;  nothing  extenuate. 
Nor  set  down  aught  in  malice." 


'252  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 


OLD  GOVERNOR  COWLES  MEAD,  AND  AARON  BURR. 

"  There  was  ae  sang,  amang  the  rest, 
Aboov  them  a'  it  pleased  me  best." 

Burns. 

''  Some  men  are  born  great,  some  men  achieve  great- 
ness, and  some  men  have  greatness  thrust  upon  them." 
Old  Governor  CowLES  Mead's  greatness  may  include 
something  of  the  first  and  second  of  these ;  but  the  most 
valuable  part  of  his  greatness  was  rather  fortunately 
thrust  upon  him  by  Aaron  Burr,  with  a  brief  account 
of  which  our  story  bides.     It  is  quickly  told. 

Fortune  often  crowds  fame  enough  in  one  deed  for  a 
whole  lifetime.  She's  playing  the  multum  in  parvo  with 
our  acts,  when  we  are  not  aware  of  it,  and  then  awakes  us, 
as  she  did  Byron,  some  morning,  to  find  "  ourselves  fa- 
mous !"  What  we  are  doing  now  may  one  day  be  history. 
But  to  our  subject.  It  is  simply  this — please  dwell  on 
each  word,  and  read  it  with  historic  emphasis.  "  Cren- 
eral  Cowles  Mead  was  Lieutenant,  though  acting  G-ov- 
ernor  of  Blississippi,  when  Colonel  Aaron  Burr  chanced 
to  rendezvous  on  its  shores,  in  the  vicinity  of  Grand  Gulf, 
and  hy  his  oivn  order  had  the  said  Colonel  Aaron  Burr 
arrested.  Though,  we  say  it  suh  rosa,  and  within  paren- 
thesis, (it  is  asserted  as  D>fact,  that  Colonel  Burr  merely 
played  Iago  with  the  old  Governor,  made  him  believed 
he  was  '^  honest,''  and  he  let  him  go). 

The  folloAving  interesting  sketch  is  the  true  historical 
account  of  Colonel  Burr's  capture  in  the  back-woods  of 
Alabama. 

"  Confident  of  the  aid  of  General  Wilkinson,  and  of 
the  forces  under  his  command,,  Burr  continued  his  exer- 
tions, notwithstanding  all  prospects  of  a  war  with  Spain 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  253 

had  ceased,  and  in  spite  of  the  proclamation  of  the  Presi- 
dent, and  the  efforts  of  the  governors  of  the  various 
States  and  Territories  of  the  West,  to  deter  him. 

In  January  1807,  the  flotilla  of  Euke  had  arrived  at 
Bayou  Pierre,  on  the  lovrer  Mississippi.  He  was  there 
seized  by  the  order  of  Cowles  Mead,  the  acting  Govern- 
or of  Mississippi,  and  conducted  to  the  town  of  Washing- 
ton. BuKR  shortly  after  managed  to  escape  from  custody, 
and  a  reward  of  two  thousand  dollars  was  offered  for  his 
apprehension.  In  the  mean  time  several  arrests  of  the 
supposed  accomplices  of  Bukr,  were  made  at  Fort  Adams 
and  New  Orleans.  Among  these  were  Bollman — the 
celebrated  deliverer  of  LaFayet^ — Ogden,  Swartwout, 
Daytoit,  Smith,  Alexander  and  General  Adair,  against 
whom  the  most  rigid  and  unjustifiable  authority  was  ex- 
ercised by  General  Wilkinson,  in  many  cases  upon  bare 
suspicion. 

Late  at  night,  about  the  first  of  February,  a  man  in  the 
garb  of  a  boatman,  with  a  single  companion,  arrived  at 
the  door  of  a  small  log  cabin  in  the  back  woods  of  Ala- 
bama, and  inquired  the  way  to  Colonel  Hinson's,  who  re- 
sided in  the  neighborhood.  Colonel  Nicholos  Perkins 
observed  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  that  the  stranger,  al- 
though coarsely  dressed,  possessed  a  countenance  of  un- 
usual intelligence,  and  an  eye  of  sparkling  brilliancy. 
The  tidy  boot,  which  his  vanity  could  not  surrender  with 
his  other  articles  of  clothing,  attracted  Perkin's  attention, 
and  led  him  truly  to  conclude  that  the  mysterious  stran- 
ger was  none  other  than  the  famous  Colonel  Burr,  de- 
scribed in  the  proclamation  of  the  Governor. 

That  night  Perkins  started  for  Fort  Stoddart,  on  the 
Tombigbee,  and  communicated  his  suspicions  to  the  late 
General  Edmund  P.  Gaines,  then  the  Lieutenant  in  com- 
mand.    The  next  day,  accompanied  by  Perkins  and  a  file 


254  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

of  mounted  soldiers,  Gaines  started  in  pursuit  of  Burr,  and 
arrested  him  on  his  journey.  Burr  attempted  to  intimi- 
date Gaines ;  but  the  resolute  young  officer  was  firm,  and 
told  him  he  must  accompany  him  to  his  quarters,  where 
he  would  be  treated  with  all  the  respect  due  to  the  ex- 
Vice  President  of  the  United  States. 

About  three  weeks  after  Gaines  sent  Burr  a  prisoner  to 
Richmond,  with  a  sufficient  guard,  the  command  of  which 
was  given  to  Perkins.  They  were  all  men  whom  Perkins 
had  selected,  and  upon  whom  he  could  rely  in  every 
emergency.  He  took  them  aside  and  obtained  the  most 
solemn  pledges  that  upon  the  whole  route  they  would 
hold  no  interviews  witlj  Burr,  nor  suffer  him  to  escape 
alive.  Perkins  knew  the  fascinations  of  Burr,  and  he. 
feared  his  familiarity  with  his  men — indeed  he  feared  the 
same  influence  upon  himself.  He  was  actually  afraid  to 
trust  either  his  men  or  himself  within  the  influence  of  the 
''exquisitely  beautiful  Delilah"  of  his  persuasive  elo- 
quence. 

Each  man  carried  provisions  for  himself,  and  some  for 
the  prisoner.  They  were  all  well  mounted  and  armed. 
On  the  last  of  February  they  set  out  on  their  long  and 
perilous  journey.  To  what  an  extremity  was  Burr  now 
reduced  !  In  the  boundless  wilds  of  Alabama,  with  none 
to  hold  converse ;  surrounded  by  a  guard  to  whom  he 
dared  not  speak  ;  a  prisoner  of  the  United  States,  for 
whose  liberties  he  had  fought ;  his  fortunes  swept  away ; 
the  magnificent  scheme  for  the  conquest  of  Mexico  broken 
up ;  slandered  and  hunted  down  from  one  end  of  the  Union 
to  another.  These  were  considerations  to  crush  an  ordi- 
nary man  ;  but  his  was  no  common  mind ;  and  the  char- 
acteristic fortitude  and  determination  which  had  ever 
marked  his  course,  still  sustained  him  in  the  darkest  hour. 

In  their  journey  through  Alabama  they  always  slept  in 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  •         255 

the  woods,  and  after  a  hastily  prepared  breakfast,  it  was 
their  custom  to  re-mount  and  march  on  in  gloomy  silence. 
BuER  was  a  splendid  rider,  and  in  his  rough  garb  he  be- 
strode his  horse  as  elegantly  as  though  he  were  at  the 
head  of  a  New  York  regiment.  He  was  always  a  hardy 
traveler,  and  though  wet  for  hours  together,  with  cold  and 
drizzling  rain,  riding  forty  miles  a  day,  and  at  night 
stretched  on  a  pallet  upon  the  ground,  he  never  uttered 
one  word  of  complaint. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Fort  Wilkinson  they  were  for  the  first 
time  sheltered  under  a  roof — a  tavern  kept  by  one  Bevin. 
While  they  were  seated  around  the  fire  awaiting  breakfast, 
the  inquisitive  host  inquired  '^if  the  traitor  Burr  had  been 
taken?"  "Was  he  not  a  bad  man?"  "Wasn't  every- 
body afraid  of  him?"  Perkins  and  his  party  were  very 
much  annoyed,  and  made  no  reply.  Burr  was  sitting  in 
the  corner  by  the  fire,  with  his  head  down ;  and  after  lis- 
tening to  the  inquisitiveness  of  Bevin  until  he  could  stand 
it  no  longer,  he  raised  himself  up,  and  planting  his  fiery 
eyes  upon  him,  said, 

'' I  am  Aaron  Burr  ;  what  is  it  you  want  with  me?" 

Bevin,  struck  with  his  appearance — the  keenness  of  his 

look,  and  the  solemnity  and  dignity  of  his  manner — stood 

acrhast,  and  trembled  like  a  leaf.     He  uttered  not  another 

word  while  the  guard  remained  at  his  house. 

When  they  reached  the  confines  of  South  Carolina, 
Pg:kins  watched  Burr  more  closely  than  ever,  for  his  son- 
in-law.  Colonel,  afterwards  Governor,  Alston,  a  gentleman 
of  talent  and  influence,  resided  in  this  State.  He  was 
obliged  in  a  great  measure  to  avoid  the  towns  for  fear  of 
a  rescue.  Before  entering  the  town  of  Chester,  in  that 
State,  the  party  halted,  and  surrounding  Burr,  proceeded 
on,  and  passed  near  a  tavern  where  many  persons  were 
standing,  while  music  and   dancing  were   heard  in  the 


256  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

house.  Burr  conceived  it  a  favorable  opportunity  for  es- 
cape, and  suddenly  dismounting,  exclaimed, 

I  am  Aaron  Burr,  under  military  arrest,  and  claim  pro- 
tection from  the  civil  authorities." 

Perkins  leaped  from  his  horse,  with  several  of  his  men, 
and  ordered  him  to  re-mount. 

''  I  will  not !''  replied  Burr. 

Not  wishing  to  shoot  him,  Perkins  threw  down  his  pis- 
tols, and  being  a  man  of  prodigious  strength,  and  the  pris- 
oner a  small  man,  seized  him  around  the  waist,  and  placed 
him  in  the  saddle,  as  though  he  were  a  child.  Thom- 
as Malone,  one  of  the  guard,  caught  the  reins  of  the  bri- 
dle, slipped  them  over  the  Worse's  head,  and  led  him  rap- 
idly on.  The  astonished  citizens,  wh.en  Burr  dismounted, 
and  the  guards  cocked  their  pistols,  ran  within  the  piazza 
to  escape  from  danger. 

Burr  was  still,  to  some  extent,  popular  in  South  Caro- 
lina ;  and  any  wavering  or  timidity  on  the  part  of  Perkins 
would  have  lost  him  his  prisoner ;  but  the  celerity  of  his 
movements  gave  the  people  no  time  to  reflect  before  he 
was  far  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Here  the  guard 
halted.  Burr  was  highly  excited ;  he  was  in  tears  !  The 
kind-hearted  Malone  also  wept,  at  seeing  the  uncontrolla- 
ble despondency  of  him  who  had  hitherto  proved  almost 
iron-hearted.  It  was  the  first  time  any  one  had  ever  seen 
Aaron  Burr  unmanned. 

On  Burr's  arrival  at  Richmond,  the  ladies  of  the  cij;y 
vied  with  each  other  in  contributing  to  his  comfort.  Some 
sent  him  fruit,  some  clothes,  some  one  thing,  and  some 
another. 

Burr  was  tried  before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States,  at  Richmond,  for  treason,  and  found  7iot  guilty^ 
though  the  popular  voice  continued  to  regard  him  as  a 
traitor.     Failing  to  convict  the  principal,  the  numerous 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  257 

confederates  of  Burr  were  never  brought  to  trial,  and  were 
discharged  from  custody. 

He  was  defended  during  his  trial  by  the  honorable 
Henry  Clay,  on  his  first  assuring  him  upon  liis  honor,  that 
he  was  engaged  in  no  design  contrary  to  the  laws  and 
peace  of  his  country.  He  was  acquitted,  owing  to  the  ab- 
sence of  any  important  witness,  and  from  the  fact  that  the 
arrest  was  premature. 

After  his  trial,  Burj  went  abroad,  virtually  a  banished 
man.  He  was  still  full  of  his  schenfts  against  Mexico,  and, 
unsuccessfully,  attempted  to  enlist  England,  and  then 
France,  in  these  projects.  Here  his  funds  failed.  He 
had  no  friends  to  apply  to,  and  was  forced  to  borrow,  on 
one  occasion,  a  couple  of  sous  from  a  cigar  woman,  on  the 
corner  of  the  street. 

But  to  return  :  time  passed  on,  and  worthy  old  Govern- 
or Cowles  Mead  lived  many  years  after  this  remarkable 
event;  but  .that  he  had  '-'taken  Colonel  Burr,'"  was 
ever  the  pride  of  his  life.  The  thought  ever  animated 
him,  when  this  circumstance  was  mentioned ;  and  he  often 
found  occasion  to  mention  it. 

Besides  the  other  good  qualities  of  the  man,  the  Gov- 
ernor was  a  staunch  Presbyterian,  and  at  their  Presbyte- 
ries, whenever  he  had  anything  to  say,  would  be  sure  to 
bring  in  his  "taking  Colonel  Burr."  At  one  ofiheir 
conventions  he  rose  to  speak,  when  one  of  the  brethren, 
knowing  his  Burrish  propensity,  arose  and  said  he  had 
some  objection  to  brother  Mead's  speaking,  he  was  so  apt  to 
wander  from  his  subject.  The  chairman  gave  the  neces- 
sary precaution  about  the  brethren's  confining  themselves 
to  the  subject,  and  the  rules  of  the  meeting  and  the  Gov- 
ernor proceeded.  But,  ere  he  got  through  speaking,  he 
was  cited  to  an  error  in  one  of  his  dates — the  year  was 
wrong.     He  stopped  a  moment  and  reflected — then  went 

R 


258  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

on  : — "  No,  I  am  riglit,  I  am  confident  I  am  riglit ; — why, 
said  he,  there  is  nothing  sure7%  for  it  was  the  same  year 
that  I  took  Colonel  Burr." 

GEORGE   M.    POIN  DEXTER. 

"  He  stood  gro-wing  in  his  place  like  a  flood  in  a  narrow  vale." 
"  He  drew  forward  that  troubled  war — but  Tremnor  they  turned  not 
from  battle." 

"  Th^  years  that  are  past  are  marked  with  mighty  deeds." 

OSSIAN. 

Among  those  whose  aims,  deeds  and  virtues,  are  written 
on  the  scroll  of  Southern  fame,  is  that  of  George  M. 
PoiXDEXTER.  Although  a  Virginian  by  birth,  his  name 
and  fame  are  as  much  identified  with  Mississippi's  early 
history  as  that  of*  any  other  illustrious  man.  He  was  a 
conspicuous  actor  on  the  stage  when  she  was  comparatively 
a  wilderness  ;  at  that  stirring  and  eventful  period  of  her 
history  Avhen  the  weird  and  dangerous  ambition  of  Burr 
urged  him  to  devise  schemes  for  its  highest  gratification. 
And,  if  I  remember  rightly,  he  was  the  United  Sta^tes  At- 
torney who  was  at  Natches  when  Buer  was  taken  there 
for  examination,  after  his  arrest  at  Grand  Gulf.  I  do 
not  assert  this  as  a  fact. 

He  was  the  first  territorial  Governor  of  Mississippi,  the 
first.  Representative  in  Congress  after  her  admission  into 
the  Union  ;  and  it  was  during  that  great  and  exciting  de- 
bate in  the  House  of  Representatives,  in  1819,  on  Mr. 
Clay's  resolutions  censuring  General  Jackson  for  the  ex- 
ecution of  Ambrister  and  Arbuthnot  during  his  cele- 
brated campaign  against  the  Seminole  Indians  in  Florida, 
that  he  measured  arms  with  the  American  Cicero,  and 
proved  himself  a  mighty  foe  in  mental  conflict — a  proud 
peer  of  him  who  has  been  justly  ranked  among  the  first  of 
his  age  in  oratory  and  eloquence. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  259 

A  Southern  planter  remarked  to  me  :  "  In  early  life,  I 
read  the  speeches  of  these  two  great  champions,"  referring 
to  the  debate  above  mentioned,  "  and  I  think  all  intelli- 
gent and  impartial  men  would  concur  with  me  in  the  opin- 
ion, that  for  real  and  genuine  power  and  eloquence,  Poin- 
dexter's  speeches  have  not  yet  been  surpassed  on  any  sim- 
ilar occasion,  by  any  American  orator.  At  any  rate,  they 
gave  him  a  national  reputation,  and  established  his  fame 
among  the  first  men  of  the.  day  as  a  splendid  and  enective 

speaker."  *■ 

In  1830  he  was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate  as 

a  supporter  of  General  Jackson's  administration.  This 
was  the  important  era  of  his  life.  At  that  time,  the  read- 
er will  remember,  the  great  contest  arose  between  the  old 
Democratic  and  Whig  leaders  in  Congi-^ss,  in  relation  to 
the  removal  of  the  deposits  of  the  United  States  Bank. 

The  measure  was  put  in  motion  and  most  strenuously 
opposed  by  the  Whigs.  It  was  met  with  an  opposition  so 
powerful  that  the  "  Old  Hero"  w^as  afraid  of  losing  a  sin- 
gle man.  xind  as  he  cast  his  eye  over  the  field  where  the 
enemy  were  arrayed  in  such  a  formidable  combination 
against  him  under  those  eminent  chiefs,  Clay,  Calhoun 
and  Webster,  and  ran  it  along  the  list  of  Senators,  and 
saw  standing  by  their  side,  Bibb,  of  Kentucky ;  Chambers, 
of  Maryland ;  Clayton,  of  Delaware ;  Ewing,  of  Ohio  ; 
Freelinghuysen,  of  New  Jersey ;  Watkins  Leigh,  of  Vir- 
ginia ;  Mangum,  of  North  Carolina ;  Alexander  Porter, 
of  Louisiana ;  William  0.  Preston,  of  South  Carolina  ; 
Southard,  of  New  Jersey  ;  Tyler,  of  Virginia ;  he  was 
somewhat  alarmed ;  and  when  he  saw  that  some  of  his  own 
chiefs  werfi  disafi'ected,  with  eager  haste  his  keen  eye 
flashed  over  his  own  forces,  when  with  sad  disappointment 
he  missed  the  Roland  of  his  camp — Poindexter — the  one 
in  whom  his  hopes  of  the  South  West  relied,  was  not  to 
be  found  among  his  chiefs.     But  instantly 


260  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAK's 


"A  whistle  slirill 


Was  heard  from  the  opposing  hill ; 
Wild  as  the  scream  of  the  curlieu 
From  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew. 
Instant  through  copse  and  heath  arose 
Bonnets,  and  spears,  and  bended  bows, 
On  right,  on  left,  above,  below, 
A  chief  deserts  and  seeks  the  foe." 

It  is  well  known  that  Poindexter  sounded  the  note  of 
alarm  summoning  the  fge  to  the  opposition  of  this  measure, 
and  that  he,  with  many  other  Democrats,  deserted  the 
President,  and  crossed  over,  as  the  Saxons  did  at  Leipsic, 
to  the  enemy,  and  urged  with  them  a  fierce  and  bitter 
warfare  upon  him  and  his  measures.  But  they  met  a  ter- 
rible opposition  .from  the  Democrats ;  yet  "  Tremnor 
turned  not  from  the  battle — he  stood  growing  in  his  place 
like  a  flood  in  a  narrow  vale."  But  what  man  ever  pros- 
pered that  opposed  General  Jackson  and  his  schemes  ? 
They  were  doomed  men  if  they  incurred  his  wrath.  "While 
in  power,  Caesar  and  his  fortunes  were  with  him,  and  when 
he  retired  to  his  Hermitage, 

"  Achilles  absent  was  Achilles  still." 

George  M.  Poindexter,  in  this  opposition  to  General 
Jackson,  proved  himself  a  champion  in  debate — the  "  Old 
Hero"  and  his  party  found  in  him  a  proved  and  powerful 
foe. 

The  brilliant  Prentiss  refers  to  him  in  one  of  his  speeches 
in  Congress,  in  all  the  animated  glow  of  his  impassioned 
eloquence,  and  eulogizes  him  for  his  undaunted  firmness 
in  this  debate — for  his  proud  defiance  to  the  Achillean 
wrath  of  the  President  and  the  hate  of  his  late  mends, 
the  Democratic  leaders,  in  battling  for  the  right.  But 
the  enemy  were  too  powerful — they  gained  the  day. 

"Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhu." 


•  SOJOURX   IN   THE   SOUTH.  261 

For  in  1833,  during  the  canvass  for  State  election,  and 
when  the  subject  for  the  United  States  Senator  was  neces- 
sarily involved,  as  the  Legislature  then  chosen  had  to  elect 
one,  Robert  J.  Walker,  then  residing  at  Natches,  a  lawyer 
of  distinguished  reputation  and  acknowledged  ability,  the 
same  Robert  J.  Walker,  since  famous  in  Kansas  history, 
announced  himself  a  candidate  for  the  United  States  Sen- 
ate, in  support  of  General  Jackson's  policy  in  regard  to 
the  United  States  Bank  ;  and  in  opposition  to  Poindexter, 
took  the  "stump,"  and  thoroughly  canvassed  the  State. 
After  one  of  the  most  angry  and  embittered  political  con- 
tests ever  known  in  our  borders,  he  carried  the  Legisla- 
ture by  a  small  majority,  and  triumphed  over  his  distin- 
guished opponent.  This  so  mortified  the  ambition  of 
Poindexter  that  he  commenced  a  career  of  wild  and  reck- 
less dissipation,  sullying  very  much  his  well-earned  repu- 
tation, and  alienating,  of  course,  many  of  his  friends  and 
supporters.  Seeing  evidently  that  the  star  of  his  glory 
in  Mississippi  was  obscured,  if  not  set  forever,  he  removed 
to  Lexington,  Kentucky,  to  practice  in  his  former  profes- 
sion as  a  lawyer,  was  disappointed  there,  and  came  back 
to  Mississippi,  the  theatre  of  his  former  glory,  broken  in 
health  and  spirits,  and  there  he  died. 

"  Such  honors  Ilium  to  her  hero  paid, 

And  peaceful  slept  the  mighty  Hector's  shade." 

SENATOR  FOOTE. 

"  Such  as  we  are  made  of,  such  we  be." 

Shakspeare. 

Every  man  has,  or  there  is  a  vocation  in  life  for  which 
every  man  is  exactly  fitted.  But  finding  this  one  among 
the  various  pursuits,  is  not  so  very  easily  done,  for,  in  re- 
gard to  their  relation  to  us,  fortune  seems  to  have  scattered 
them  about,  with  the  irregularity  of  sibylline  leaves.     Yet 


262  JOTTINGS    OF   A   year's 

the  secret  of  success  in  life  is  finding  this  vocation.  The 
ancients  believed  this,  for  here  it  is,  "  Grnotlii  seauton.'' 
The  really  finding  one's  self,  is  the  great  discovery  of  our 
lives — the  true  philosopher's  stone — the  talisman  with 
which  men  convert  everything  into  gold.  Besides  this 
true  vocation  of  one's  self,  there  is  one  to  which  men  as- 
pire, whether  false  or  true,  and  for  which  there  is  a  long- 
ing, that,  if  not  satisfied,  more  or  less  imbitters  their  whole 
lives.  .         .  • 

Whether  it  was  the  great  discovery  of  Senator  Foote's 
life  or  not,  we  do  not  know,  but  it  is  certain  that  he  found 
himself  in  the  United  States  Senate,  some  number  of  years 
ago,  which  discovery  to  him  appears  to  have  been  the  tal- 
isman he  sought.  For  being  deprived  of  this  bauble  that 
fortune  appears  to  have  given  him  for  awhile  to  amuse 
him,  there  has  been  an  ^'  amari  aliquid  " — a  drop  of  bitter 
flowing  over  his  life  ever  since — he  has  constantly  sighed 
to  get  the  bauble  back  again. 

Senator  Foote  is  a  Virginian  by  birth.  IJe  first,  on 
leaving  his  native  State,  came  to  Alabama,  but  his  first 
location  was  at  Vicksburgh,  Mississippi,  as  the  editor  of 
a  Democratic  newspaper.  Soon  after  he  established  the 
3Iis8issi2:>2^ian,  still  recognized  as  the  central  organ  of  the 
Democratic  party  of  this  State.  Abandoning  this  enter- 
prise, he  located  at  Clinton,  Hinds  county,  in  the  same 
State,  as  a  lawyer,  where  he  acquired  considerable  repu- 
tation as  an  advocate.  Being  of  an  active  and  quick  mind, 
well  educated,  and  possessed  of  a  very  large  fund  of  gen- 
eral information,  he  naturally  sought  every  field  within 
reach  for  a  display  of  his  powers.  An  unusually  ready 
and  effective  debater,  of  keen  wit  and  sarcasm,  he  was 
rather  a  formidable  adversary,  either  on  the  forum  or 
hustings.  He  commenced  his  career  in  Mississippi  at  a 
period  when  that  portion  in  which  he  lived  was  attracting 


SOJOURN   m   THE   SOUTH.  263 

mucli  attention  as  a  suitable  field  for  all  sorts  of  men — the 
cotton-planter,  tlie  professional  man  of  all  classes,  the 
speculator  and  the  gambler.  And  at  a  time,  too,  when 
morals  were  not  of  a  high  grade,  and  excitements  and  dis- 
sipations, always  accompanying  this  condition  of-  things, 
were  universal  and  rampant.  And  he  being  of  a  mercu- 
rial temper,  was  involved  in  various  difficulties,  two  of 
which  were  with  S.  S.  Prentiss,  and  resulted  in  duels,  in 
the  last  of  which  he  was  slightly  wounded,  and  which  rec- 
onciled the  feud  between  these  two  distinguished  worthies 
of  Mississippi. 

Senator  Foote's  has  been  a  wayward  jind  checkered  life. 
He  has  been  really  a  political  champion,  and,  for  a  while 
at  least,  has  co-operated  to  some  extent  with  all  the  polit- 
ical parties  that  have  had  an  organization  in  this  State. 
And  during  this  time  he  was  a 'member  of  the  United 
States  Senate  for  six  years.     Halcyon  days  !     But, 

*'  Gone  glimmering  through  the  dream  of  things  that  were, 
•A  school-boy's  tale — the  wonder  of  an  hour." 

.  Of  his  career  there  the  reader  is  well  informed.  It  was 
while  a  member  of  this  august  body,  that  he  received  the 
coo^nomen  of  "Hano;man  Foote,"  the  orio-in  of  which  was 
this :  In  an  exciting  debate  with  Senator  Hale,  he  told 
him  if  he  ever  caught  him  out  of  his  own  State,  in  Missis- 
sippi, he  would  hang  him.  To  which  Senator  Hale  re- 
plied, should  he,  Senator  Foote,  ever  come  to  New  Hamp- 
shire, he  would  treat  him  like  a  gentleman.  He  was  a 
man  of  power  and  influence  in  the  Senate,  and  Mr.  Clay 
esteemed  him  highly. 

In  1851  he  was  elected,  by  a  small  majority,  as  the 
Union  candidate.  Governor  of  Mississippi.  In  the  contest 
of  1853  he  declared  himself  a  candidate  for  the  United 
States  Senate,  but  was  beaten  by  a  very  decided  majority, 


264  JOTTINGS   OP  A  year's 

which  so  disappointed  and  mortified  him  that  in  a  day  or 
two  he  left  the  State  to  take  up  his  abode. in  California. 
Here  it  is  said  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  large  and  lu- 
crative practice  as  a  lawyer.  But  there  was  the  longing 
for  the  chief  glory  of  his  life — a  seat  in  the  United  States 
Senate.  His  highest  hopes  and  ambition  were  fixed  upon 
this  yet.  And  here  once  more,  in  this  new  and  untried 
field  of  action,  he  essayed  his  fortunes  for  the  lost  bauble 
— and  failed.  Despairing  of  success  in  this  land  of  gold, 
he  returned  to  the  East,  and  located  in  Memphis,  Ten- 
nessee. And  I  presume  the  prospect  there  for  accom- 
plishing the  object  of  his  life,'  or  meeting  with  success  as 
a  lawyer,  was  rather  gloomy ;  for  he  did  not  remain  in 
Memphis  long  ere  he  removed  to  Vicksburgh,  Mississippi, 
where  he  now  is,  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  where  he  com- 
menced his  strangely  varied  and  checkered  career,  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  ago.     Truly  he  can  say  with  the  poet, 

"Life  is  a  drama  of  a  few  brief  acts  ; 
The  actors  shift ;  the  scene  is  often  changed, 
Pauses  and  revolutions  intervene, 
The  mind  is  set  to  many  a  varied  tune, 
And  jars  and  plays  in  harmony  by  turns," 

Senator  Foote  is  of  small  stature,  though  an  active,  en- 
ergetic man.  In  private  life  he  is  said  to  be  very  estima- 
ble, of  easy,  afi'able  and  polished  maners,  warm  and  sin- 
cere in  his  attachments  and  friendships.  ,       " 


GENERAL   QUITMAN, 

"  Zealous,  yet  modest ;  innocent  though  free ; 
Patient  of  toil;  serene  amidst ^ilarms; 
Inflexible  in  faith,  invincible  in  arms." 

"  Praelio  strenuus  erat  bonus  et  concilio," 

Sallust. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  265 

'^I  have  a  good  deal  of  faith,"  says  Hugh  Miller,  "in 
the  military  air,  when  in  the  character  of  a  natural  trait. 
I  find  it  strongly  marking  men  who  never  served  in  the 
army.  I  have  not  yet  seen  it  borne  by  the  civilian,  who 
had  not  in  him,  at  least,  the  elements  of  a  soldier." 

He  likes  this  trait  because  a  shrewd  sense  and  sagacity 
are  its  characteristics.  But  it  has  been  always  considered 
as  never  or  very  rarely  to  be  found  with  great  powers  in 
the  Senate,  at  the  bar,  desk,  or  forum.  Hugh  Miller  in- 
stances as  possessing  this  "military  air,"  the  elder  Dr. 
McCrie,  a  powerful  Scotch  minister,  who  would  also  have^ 
made  a  good  general.     We  presume  John  Knox  would. 

But  the  twQ  qualities  referred  to  are  very  hard  to  be 
found  in  the  same  individual.  Hence  Sallust  says  of 
Jugurtha,  "  Quod  difficilimum  in  primis  est,  et  'proelio 
strenuus  erat  et  bonus  coyicilio.''^ 

We  have  thought  necessary  to  preface  our  notice  of 
General  Quitman  with  these  remarks,  from  the  fact  of  his 
possessing  these  two  traits  so  rarely  found  combined  in 
the  same  individual.  That  he  had  the  military  air  as  a 
natural  trait — that  he  was  "  Prcelio  streniius, ' '  and  proved 
himself  the  able  general,  history  glowingly  tells.  That 
he  was  "bonus  concilw' — good  in  council — his  public 
services  in  his  own  State  and  in  Congress  amply  prove. 
Combined  with  these  was  another  fine  and  rare  element- 
in  his  character,  that  was — chivalry.  "  He  was  called," 
says  Major  W.,  "  the  s^ul  of  chivalry  in  our  State." 

General  Quitman  was  a'  native  of  the  State  of  New 
York.  His  father  was  an  Episcopalian  minister,  and  he 
himself  was  educated  for  the  church,  but  afterwards  studied 
law  and  emigrated  to  Ohio,  where  he  remained  but  a  year 
or  two,  and  thence  removed  to   Natches,    Mississippi,    I 

*'•  And  what  is  most  especially  difficult  to  find  in  the  same  man,  he 
was  brave  in  battle,  and  good  in  council." 


266  JOTTIIfGS   OF  A  year's 

think  about  the  year  1822,  where  he  rose  rapidly  in  his 
profession.  It  was  his  profound  attainments,  clear  and 
logical  mind,  and  elevated,  manly  character,  that  won  for 
him  distinction,  for  he  was  what  the  world  calls  a  poor 
speaker,  both  at  the  bar  and  at  the  hustings.  ^ 

He  was  several  times  a  member  of  the  Mississippi  State 
Legislature,  President  of  the  Senate,  Chancellor  of  the 
State,  and  was  Major  General  of  the  Militia,  at  a  period 
when  men  of  character  and  ability  alone  could  attain  these 
positions.  During  the  Texan  struggle  for  independence, 
*ipon  his  own  means  and  responsibility  he  raised  a  corps 
of  gallant  men  and  repaired  to  her  assistance.  The  read- 
er is  well  informed  of  his  splendid  military  career  in  Mex- 
ico, as  his  deeds  fill  one  of  the  brightest  pages  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  Mexican  war.  His  flag  was  the  first  that  was 
waved,  with  his  own  hands,  over  the  walls  of  the  con- 
quered city ;  and  his  column  the  first  whose  tramp  was 
heard  upon  its  humbled  streets ;  and  he  the  first  Ameri- 
can General  that  ever  issued  his  commands  from  the 
"Palace  of  the  Montezumas." 

Upon  his  return  home  he  was  nominated  by  a  Demo- 
cratic convention  for  Governor  of  his  State,  and  elected 
by  a  larger  majority  than  has  ever  been  given  to  any  other 
candidate.  In  the  Cincinnati  convention  of  1856,  on  one 
ballot,  I  believe,  (my  authority  here  was  a  member  of  that 
convention,)  he  had  the  largest  vote  for  the  Vice  Presi- 
dency. He  was  twice  subsequently  elected  to  Congress 
by  an  overwhelming  majority  ;  and  higher  honors  awaited 
him  in  his  cherished  State,  had  he  been  longer  spared  her. 

In  all  the  various  stations  that  he  occupied,  both  civil 
and  military,  he  acquitted  himself  with  distinguished  hon- 
or. In  person,.  General  Quitman  was  of  medium  size,  and 
erect  as  an  Indian  chief.  In  many  respects  he  Was  the 
opposite  of  Senator  Foote,  firm,  steady  and  unshaken  in 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  267 

his  opinions  and  purposes,  in  manners  and  bearing  always 
and  everywhere  plain  and  unaffected,  evincing  the  dignity 
and  mien  of  the  true  soldier.  In  private  life  he  had  many 
devoted  and  admiring  friends,  and  his  reputation  was 

"  Sans  peur  sans  reproche.'" 

Quitman  is  dead  ;  but  the  laurels  he  won  are  unfading — 

his  fame  will  not  decay. 

"  Its  lustre  brightens  ;  virtue  cuts  the  gloom 
With  purer  rays,  and  sparkles  near  a  tomb." 

JOSEPH   HOLT. 

"  Others  apart  sat  on  a  hill  retired, 

In  thoughts  more  elevate,  and  reasoned  high." 

Milton. 

Mississippi  is  too  young  to  have  raised  a  crop  of  great 
men  of  her  own.  New  York,  Virginia  and  South  Caro- 
lina have.  But  her  adopted  sons,  like  Plato's  pupils,  have 
rendered  her  name,  as  well  as  their  own,  immortal.  She 
has  been  the  Alma  Mater  that  has  conferred  the  degrees 
.  on  her  pupils  as  they  have  graduated  in  her  schools.  She 
has  not  only  given  their  names  to  the  brightest  page  of 
her  own  history,  but  to  fame. 

The  occasion,  it'is  said,  makes  the  man.  She  has  been 
the  occasion  to  many  of  her  adopted  sons  that  has  made 
the  man.     She  made  a  Holt  as  she  made  a  Prentice. 

A  friend  writing  to  me  says  : — "  Of  Joseph  Holt,  or  Jo 
Holt,  as  he  is  called  here,  not  a  great  deal  can  be  said, 
,  save  that  he  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  great  men  of  our 
country.  His  life  affords  no  rich  material  for  exciting 
and  thrilling  biography,  but  more  of  calm  dignity  and 
splendor." 

There  was  power  enough  in  the  word  "Solon,"  as  its 
sound  fell  upon  the  ear  of  the  Great  Cyrus,  to  save  the 
life   of  the  Lydian  king,  who  in  extreme  despair  of  his 


268  JOTTINGS    OF   A    YEAR'S 

own  life,  was  heard  to  utter  it.  We  do  not  know  how 
many  men  in  the  "  Flush  and  rampant  times  of  Missis- 
sippi"— rich  as  Croesus  in  villainy  and  crime,  have  saved 
or  lost  their  lives  by  the  talismanic  power  in  the  dissylla- 
ble—Jo Holt. 

As  their  friend  and  advocate  at  the  bar  of  justice,  he 
was  a  powerful  ally ;  but  as  their  adversary  at  the  same 
bar,  he  was  a  powerful  foe.  This  name  pronounced  in  the 
hearing  of  a  Mississippian  always  arrests  his  attention. 
It  associates  in  his  mind  the  profound  reasoning — the  log- 
ical arguments  and  forensic  eloquence  of  this  Webster  of 
their  courts.  And  there  is  no  name  that  they  pronounce 
with  more  pride  and  confidence  than — Jo  IJolt. 

Joseph  Holt  came  to  Vicksburgh  from  his  native  State 
— Kentucky — at  an  early  day,  and  soon  attained  very 
high  distinction  as  a  lawyer  and  finished  orator.  In  real 
eloquence  and  beauty  and  splendor  of  style,  he  had  no 
equal,  I  suppose,  says  a  friend,  in  Mississippi.  And  when 
he  practiced  at  Vicksburgh  and  Jackson,  there  was  a 
splendid  galaxy  of  talent — legal  learning  and  eloquence  at 
the  Mississippi  bar,  with  which  he  had  to  contend,  and 
which  would  have  ranked  high  at  any  bar  in  the  United 
States. 

There  were"  Prentiss,  Guion,  Gildart,  Sharkey,  McNut, 
Tompkins,  and  others  of  no  common  eloquence.  Prentiss 
used  to  say  of  Holt,  that  he  "was  the  most  fearful  adver- 
sary that  he  ever  encountered."  He  was  said  to  be  stern, 
cold  and  retiring  in  his  manners ;  never  anywhere  seeking 
for  the  "  bubble  reputation."  But  an  enduring  reputation 
he  won. 

He  was  a  very  laborious  man,  and,  I  have  no  doubt, 
continues  the  same  authority,  quoted  above,  but  what  he 
studied  well  every  speech  and  argument  he  made  in  any 
suit  of  importance  in  which  he  was  engaged.     He  had  the 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  269 

reputation,  as  I  have  said  else  wliere,  of  being  the   best 
lawyer  prepared  that  ever  entered  the  Mississippi  courts. 

I  have  heard  those  that  were  entranced  by  his  elo.quence, 
assert  that  every  word  that  fell  from  his  lips — he  was, 
though  logical,  copious  and  fluent  enough — seemed  to  be 
the  most  appropriate  and  beautiful  that  the  English  lan- 
guage afforded,  and  could  not  have  been  improved. 

His  voice  failed  him,  and  he  was   compelled  to  retire 
from  the  bar,  though  he  had  accumulated  a  large  fortune. 
I  have  heard  his  uncle,  who  assisted  in  his  education,  say 
that  he  was  so  retiring  and  modest  at  Louisville,  where  he 
studied  his  profession  and  located,  that  he  was  not  even 
known  to  many  members  of  _^the  profession.     And  that, 
on  one  occcasion,  when  a  suit  of  much  importance  was  to 
be  tried,  a  friend  who  knew  his  ability,  insisted   that  he 
should  make  a  speech  upon  it.     He  consequently  prepared 
himself,  and  though  very  able   counsel  was  employed  on 
both  sides,  so  powerful  and  eloquent   was  his   argument, 
that  the  judge,  jury  and  spectators  were  spell-bound,  and 
when  he  sat  down,  the  judge  inquired,  by  note,  of  one  of 
the  attorney's  at  the  bar,  "what  young   man  that  was.'' 
That  young  man  is  no  other  than  the  present  Post  Master 
General  at  Washington — Joseph  Holt. 

GEORGE   DENISON    PRENTICE. 

"  The  flash  of  wit — the  bright  intelligence, 
The  beam  of  song — the  blaze  of  eloquence.' 

Byrox. 

Addison  makes  his  "  spectator"  remark,  rather  in  joke 
than  earnest,  ''that  the  reader  seldom  peruses  a  book 
with  pleasure,  till  he  knows  whether  the  writer  of  it  be 
a  black  or  a  fair  man,  of  a  mild  or  choleric  disposition, 
married  or  a  bachelor,"  with  other  particulars  of  a  like 
nature,  that  conduce  very  much  to  a  right  understanding 
of  the  author. 


270  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

That  is,  there  is  'a  certain  stand-point  from  which  you 
get  the  finest  and  most  picturesque  view  of  a  man.  One 
from  which  he  is  exhibted  as  Shenstone  exhibited  the  Lea- 
sowes  to  his  guest,  always  choosing  some  eligible  sight, 
some  commanding  point,  from  which  his  delightful,  rural 
seat  could  be  seen  in  all  of  its  charms  and  picturesqueness. 

A  very  eminent  man  of  our  day  says  of  Addison's  re- 
mark above,  "  It  is  literally  true  ;"  he  understands  an  au- 
thor all  the  better  from  having  seen  him. 

We  have  not  thus  prefaced  our  notice  of  this  poet  and 
wit,  by  way  of  a  flourish  in  introducing  a  person  of  majes- 
tic mien  and  kingly  bearing ;  but  have  merely  given  them 
^  for  then'  suggestive  worth  in  our  brief  description  of  him. 

The  first  time  we  saw  this  distinguished  individual,  was 
from  our  seat,  near  the  stand  of  a  large  lecture-room,  which 
•  on  the  occasion,  was  filled  with  the  intelligence  and  beauty  of 
one  of  our  Western  cities ;  even  the  aisle,  at  the  further  end 
of  which  we  caught  sight  of  him,  was  standing  full.  We 
watched  him  walking  down  this  avenue  of  citizens,  that 
swayed  this  way  and  that,  to  let  him  pass  along,  and  now 
and  then  like  an  opposing  wave,  would  surge  up  before 
him,  stopping  his  progress,  and  causing  him  to  use  force 
and  energy  to  "elbow"  his  way  through.  He  was  pre- 
ceded by  the  president  of  the  meeting,  whom  he  followed 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand.  We  noticed  his  step — it  was 
circumspect — his  walk  showed  caution  and  wariness.  We 
could  see  as  he  threaded  his  way  through  this  crowd,  the 
keen  penetration  and  perception  as  he  met  obstacles  and 
unyielding  impediments,  the  wary  dodges  and  subtility  of 
the  man. 

In  this  walk  down  the  aisle,  we  had  risen  in  our  seat, 
and  had  a  fair  view  of  him  over  the  heads  of  the  sitting 
audience.  As  he  sought  his  way  through  the  crowd,  we 
thoucrht  we  saw  the  man  making  his  passage  through  life. 


SOJOURN   m  THE   SOUTH.  271 

While  his  keen  eye  glanced  ahead  to  survey  the  way, 
and  measure  opposing  difficulties,  he  lost  no  attention  to 
things  about  him,  no  self-possession,  but  was  prepared  to 
meet  whatever  opposed  him,  with  a  deliberation  and 
strength .  equal  to  the  demand.  This  seemed  to  result 
from  his  forecast  and  remarkable  self-possession.  Noth- 
ing disconcerts  him. 

My  father  once  walked  behind  Aaron  Burr  through  one 
of  the  streets  of  Albany.  He  thought  him  the  softest,  stil- 
lest, most  circumspect  walker  he  ever  saw.  He  was  wary. 
Surprise  had  no  sudden  springs — trips  or  tricks  that  he 
could  not  avoid,  or  was  not  prepared  to  meet.  He  was 
your  "  Cat-a-line"  walker.  • 

"VYe  did  not  see  Prentice  walk  in  the  streets,  but,  after 
the  lecture  was  over,  -we  had  preceded  him  in  our  egress 
from  the  crowd,  and  stationed  ourself  by  the  wayside — as 
Lamertine  did  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Madam  De  Stael — 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  after  the  crowd  had  passed 
in  a  current,  by  us,  and  precipitated  itself  like  a  cataract 
down  the  winding  stairway,  we  saw  him  walk  down  the  de- 
serted aisle,  chatting  with  the  president  and  two  or  three 
other  gentlemen.  And  we  thought  from  his  walk,  and  the 
glance  of  his.  small,  keen  eye,  that  he  was  a  man — 

"Whom  no  one  could  pass  without  remark." 

This  may  not  be  acknowledged  by  all  who  have  merely 
seen  and  not  studied  him. 

Though  in  personal  appearance  he  is  different  from  our 
day-dream  Prentice — we  presume  Rabelias  and  Voltaire 
would  be — yet  we  can  read  and  understand  the  man  bet- 
ter from  this  view  of  him. 

In  person  he  is  five  feet  eight  inches  in  height,  and  of 
full  figure.  He  has  light  brown  hair,  a  dark,  keen  eye, 
and  a  head  of  the  finest  intellectual  cast.  In  his  manners 
he  is  courteous  and  gentlemanly  in  the  highest  degree. 


272  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

His  voice,  as  a  speaker,  though  not  loud,  is  forcible — it 
sends  the  words  home  to  the  hearts  of  his  audience. 

The  subject  of  his  lecture  was  the  "  American  States- 
man." The  lecture  itself  appeared  to  be  the  collected  wit, 
sarcasm — the  political  wisdom  of  the  man,  all  concentrated, 
like  a  Drummond  light,  upon  this  subject.  It  is  not  our  in- 
tention to  analyze  the  lecture,  as  he  analyzed  the  "  com- 
mon herd  of  office-hunters,"  and  those  who  usurp  the  posi- 
tion of  the  statesman.  It  is  beyond  our  power  to  do  it. 
He  portrayed  the  condition  of  our  country  on  the  verge  of 
ruin.  We  now  were  where  another  mighty  Republic  had 
been. 

"  Though  Cote  lived — though  a  Tulley  spoke — 
Though  Brutus  dealt  the  god-like  stroke, 
Yet  perished  fated  Rome." 

He  even  denied  that  we  had  true  and  honest  men  in 
power,  that  those  that  were  in  office  did  not  even  assume 
the  virtues  they  ought  to  have. 

One  of  the  leading  Journals  of  Michigan  says  of  this 
lecture : 

"  This  very  general  idea  of  it  is  all  we  can  give,  after 
enumerating  the  manner  of  treating  the  various  divisions 
of  the  subject,  the  almost  infinite  number  of  sparks 
struck  off  from  the  polished  steel  of  his  sarcastic  wit,  the 
marvelous  fluency  in  the  use  of  terms  with  which  to  brand 
all  sorts  of  meanness  and  dishonesty — the  occasional  glow 
of  that  fine  sympathy  with  the  true  and  the  beautiful, 
which  is  the  poetical  element  of  the  man ;  the  peculiar 
gratification  resulting  from  hearing  for  one's  self  the  wit 
and  wisdom  of  this  celebrated  character,  on  this  occasion, 
must  be  monopolized  by  those  who  were  fortunate  enough 
to  hear  him." 

I  find  the  following  in  my  journal,  penned  immediately 
after  hearing  him.     I  give   it  just  as  it  was  penned,  be- 


SOJOUEX  IX  THE   SOFTH.  273 

cause  it  was  -written  when  the  full  glow  and  Prentice  heat 
of  the  lecture  was  in  us  : 

"  I  have  jnst  listened  to  a  lecture  from  George  D.  Pren- 
tice. It  was  a  philippic  on  our  government  as  now  man- 
aged— a  withering  invective — it  was  a  Byron  giving  his 
English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers  on  the  political  men 
and  politics  of  our  Republic. 

'Fools  "were  his  theme;  and  satire  was  his  song.' 

*'It  was  keen  with  sarcasm — pungent  and  sparkling 
with  wit,  and  cruel  and  withering  in  denunciation.  While 
with  arguments  and  home  truths  he  dealt  the  antagonist 
the  sturdy  blows  of  Dlomede,  his  wit  and  sarcasm,  like  the 
arrows  of  Teucer,  unerring  and  fatal  in  their  flight,  flashed 
out  from  behind  his  shield." 

The  following,  written  of  Hawthorne,  is  jast  as  true  of 
Prentice  :  "In  ease,  grace,  delicate  sharpness  of  satire — 
in  a  felicity  of  touch  Avhich  often  surpasses  the  felicity  of 
Addison,  in  a  subtility  of  insight  which  often  reaches  fur- 
ther than  the  subtility  of  Steele — the  wit  of  Prentice  pre- 
sents traits  too  refined  for  statement.  The  brilliant  atoms 
flit,  hover  and  glance  before  our  minds,  but  the  remote 
sources  of  their  ethereal  light  lie  beyond  our  analysis, 

"And  no  speed  of  ours  avails 

To  hunt  upon  their  shining  trails." 

"  George  Denison  Prentice,  the  editor  of  the  Louisville 

Journal,  is  a  native  of  Connecticut,  born  at  Preston,  New 

London  county,  December  18th,  1802.     He  was  educated 

at  Brown  University,  studied  law,  but  did  not  engage  in 

the  profession,  preferring  the  pyirsuit  of  an  editorial  life. 

In  1828  he  commenced  the  New  England  Weekly/  Hevieiv, 

at  Hartford,  a  well-conducted  and  well-supported  journal 

of  a  literary  character,  which  he  carried  on  for  two  years, 

s 


274  JOTTINGS   OF  A  TEAR'S 

when,  consigning  its  management  to  Mr.  Whittier,  he  re- 
moved to  the  "West,  established  himself  in  Louisville  Ken- 
tucky, and  shortly  after  became  editor  of  the  Journal,  a 
daily  paper  in  that  city.  In  his  hands  it  has  become  one 
of  the  most  widely  known  and  esteemed  newspapers  in  the 
country ;  distinguished  by  its  fidelity  to  Whig  politics, 
and  its  earnest,  able  editorials,  no  less  than  by  the  lighter 
skirmishing  of  wit  and  satire.  The  "  Prenticeiana"  of 
the  editor  are  famous.  If  collected  and  published  with 
appropriate  notes,  these  '  mots'  would  form  an  amusing 
and  instructive  commentary  on  the  management  of  elec- 
tions, newspaper  literature,  and  political  oratory,  of  per- 
manent value  as  a  memorial  of  the  times." 

The  Louisville  Journal  Y^diS  been  a  supporter  of  the  cause 
of  education,  and  of  the  literary  interest  in  the  West.  It 
has  become  in  accordance  with  the  known  tastes  of  the 
editor  a  favorite  avenue  of  young  poets  to  the  public. 
Several  of  the  most  successful  lady  writers  of  the  "West, 
have  first  become  known  through  their  contributions  to 
the  Journal. 

What  N.  P.  Willis  is  in  this  respect  to  the  young  lady 
poets  and  literary  writers  of  the  North,  George  D.  Pren- 
tice is  to  those  of  the  West  and  South  West.  The  Jour- 
nals of  these  two  distinguished  literary  celebrities  and 
poets,  both  sons  of  New  .England,  have  been  the  ""  alma 
mater'  to  the  young  poet  and  literary  aspirant.  Mr. 
Prentice's  poetical  writings  are  numerous.  Many  of  them 
first  appeared  in  the  author's  Heviezv,  at  Hartford.  A 
number  have  been  collected  by  Mr.  Everest  in  the  Poets 
of  Connecticut.  They  are  in  a  serious  vein,  chiefly  ex- 
pressive of  sentiment  and  domestic  affections. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  275 

HON.    S.    S.    PRENTISS. 

"For  talents  mourn  untimely  lost, 

When  best  employed,  and  wanted  most. 

Mourn  genius,  taste  and  lore  profound. 

And  -wit  that  loved  to  play  not  wound  ;         ' 

And  all  the  reasoning  powers  divine. 

To  penetrate,  resolve,  combine  ; 

And  feelings  keen,  and  fancy's  glow ; 

They  sleep  with  him  who  sleeps  below. 

And  if  thou  mourn'st  they  could  not  save 

From  error,  him  who  owns  this  grave, 

Be  every  harsher  thought  suppressed, 

And  sacred  be  the  last  long  rest." 

Scott. 

This  eminent  lawyer,  this  brilliant  orator,  this  adopted 
son  of  the  South,  was  born  in  the  State  of  Maine,  city  of 
Portland,  situated  on  Casco  bay,  which  he  called  "  the 
fairest  dimple  on  the  cheek  of  Ocean."  * 

We  pass  by  his  early  life,  merely  noticing  the  first  read- 
ins  that  formed  his  taste.  € 

This  was  from  Scott,  Cooper,  Irving,  Byron,  and  most 
of  all  from  his  favorite  Shakspeare.  The  Bible,  too,  was 
thoroughly  read,  and  admired  by  him.  Its  sublime  pas- 
sages and  figures  he  often  quoted  in  his  speeches. 

He  read  with  wonderful  rapidity,  so  much  so  that  one 
of  his  classmates  once  observed,  "  Prentiss  reach  tivo  pages 
at  the  same  time,  one  with  7iis  right  eye,  and  the  other  with 
his  left .'" 

•  This  is  the  way  he  devoured  the  works  we  have  men- 
tioned, Milton,  Bacon,  and  all  the  old  masters.  His  class- 
ical training,  and  his  familiarity  with  the  Bible,  and  the 
great  models  of  English  speech,  imparted  a  richness, 
strength  and  felicity  to  his  diction,  as  well  as  dignity  to 
his  sentiment. 

He  had  gathered  rich  stories  from  the  wild  field  of  fie- 


276  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

tion  and  romance  ;  from  old  classical  mythology,  and  from 
the  whole  region  of  chivalry.  Ilere  he  got  those  gems 
that  glittered  in  his  speeches  ;  those  thoughts  that  flew 
from  him  in  every  possible  variety  and  beauty,  like  birds 
from  a  South  Ameiican  forest — those  "  figures  that  bub- 
bled up  and  poured  themselves  along,  like  springs  in  a 
gushing  fountain." 

He  was  fond,  in  his  leisure  hours,  of  hunting  and  fish- 
ing, though  he  appeared  physically  incapacitated  for  such 
sport,  for  his  right  leg  was  feeble,  and  it  never  became  so 
but  what  he  walked  with  it  partly  coiled  round  a  stout 
cane. 

The  difficulties  of  his  journey  South — he  was  then  sev- 
enteen, had  just  graduated  at  Bowdoin  college,  he  always 
thought  that  he  graduated  too  young,  and  regretted,  like 
Randolph,  that  he  had  not  stored  his  mind  with  more  of 
the  riches  of  books  a;id  study — have  something  of  thrill- 
ing interest  in  them  as  they  are  narrated  by  his  brother. 
*  Mention  is  made  of  this  trip  by  a  lawyer  of  celebrity  in 
Cincinnati,  who  relates  the  circumstance  of  a  youth's  com- 
ing into  his  office,  one  morning,  and  inquiring  whether  it 
was  a  good  place  for  a  young  man  to  get  into  business, 
and  who  so  impressed  him  with  his  worth,  and  the  tones 
of  his  voice,  and  manner,  that  he  never  could  forget  him. 
And  years  afterwards  when  Prentiss  became  the  pride  of 
the  South,  he  felt  an  equal  pride  in  I'elating  this  circum- 
stance, and  the  incidents  of  a  short  acquaintance  with  him. 

Something  of  trifling  importance  was  the  cause  of  his 
not  remaining  at  Cincinnati.  Hence  the  brightest  page 
of  Mississippi's,  and  not  Ohio's,  history  is  adorned  with 
the  name  of  a  Prentiss. 

In  his  passage  down  the  Mississippi,  the  steamboat  was 
impeded  by  some  cause,  and  compelled  to  lay  by.  He, 
with   a  party  'of  others,  took  their  guns  and  went  ashore 


SOJOURN  IX  THE   SOUTH.  277 

to  hunt.  Having  wandered  away  in  the  woods  from  the 
rest,  who  returned  to  the  boat  just  as  she  got  out  of  diffi- 
cultyf  and  was  ready  to  start  on,  he  came  very  near  being 
left  to  finish  his  journey  South  the  best  way  he  couVl  ; 
for  when  he  came  back  to  the  bank  of  the  river  the  steamer 
had  gone,  out  some  one  on  board  caught  sight  of  him,  and 
the  captain  waived  the  usual  habit  of  the  boat,  directed  it 
ashore,  and  took  him  aboard. 

He  stopped  at  Natches,  where  he  not  only  found  him- 
self in  a  strange  place,  but  penniless.  He  fortunately 
found,  in  a  stranger  here,  a  friend,  who  offered  him  money 
which  was  gladly  accepted,  and  afterwards  paid  with  grate- 
ful thanks.  He  tau^bc  scboo),  some  ten  miles  out  in  the 
country  from  Natches,  in  the  family  of  Mrs.  Judge  Shields, 
for  some  three  hundred  dollars  per  year.  He  afterwards 
taught  in  an  Academy,  then  commenced  the  study  of  law, 
in  the  above-named  city. 

'  There  is  something  similar  in  the.  history  of  the  two 
Prentisses — George  D.  Prentice,  the  fine  journalist,  poet 
and  wit  of  LouisvilJe,  Kentacky,  and  Sargeant  S.  Prentiss 
of  Mississippi.  BoLh  were  sons  of  New  England,  both 
early  sought  their  fortunes  in  the  South,  both  became  its 
adopted  sons,  and  both  have  dazzled  it  with  the  brilliancy 
of  thei't*  intellects. 

From  the  first  appearance  of  S.  S.  Prentiss  at  the  Miss- 
issippi bar,  in  the  front  ranks  of  which  stood  such  men  as 
Holt,  Boyd,  Quitman,  Wilkinson,  "Winchester,  Foote, 
Henderson  and  others,  he  was  regarded  as  a  sort  of  myth- 
ical personage.  No  one  knew  anything  of  the  "  limping 
boy"  and  his  school-teaching  in  Mississippi ;  but  from 
obscurity  he  had  emerged  into  the  public  gaze  so  suddenly, 
and  with  such  brilliant  effect,  that  everybody  was  envious 
to  know  his  history.  They  seized  and  magnified  all  the 
strange  stories  in  circulation  about  him.     Some  thought 


278  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

him  a  disinherited  boy — a  young  Ivanhoe  that  had  wan- 
dered away  from  his  home  in  the  North  to  far  off  Missis- 
sippi. .  • 

But  when,  like  an  unknown  Byron,  he  appeared  among 
them,  the  Scotts,  and  Shelleys,  and  TVordsworths  of  law 
and  oratory,  if  they  did  not  retire  in  dismay,  gazed  upon 
him  wifh  wonder  and  admiration.  They  considered  him 
genius  itself  that  had  vaulted,  at  one  bound,  into  its  full 
pride  of  place. 

One  of  his  cotemporaries  at  the  bar,  in  after  years, 
writes  of  him  :  ''  His  early  reading  and  education  had 
been  extensive  and  deep.  Probably  no  man  of  his  age  in 
the  State  was  so  well  read  in  the  ancient  and  modern 
classics,  in  the  current  literature  of  the  day,  and — what 
may  seem  stranger — in  the  sacred  Scriptures.  His  speech- 
es drew  some  of  their  grandest  images,  strongest  expres- 
sions, and  aptest  illustrations  from  the  inspired  wi^itings." 

In  writing  of  his  life  South  he  says  in  a  letter  to  his 
sister  Anna,  "  I  owe  all  my  success  in  this  country  to  the 
fact  of  my  having  so  kind  a  mother,  and  two  such  sweet 
and  affectionate  sisters  as  you  and  Abbyare.  It  has  been 
my  only  motive  to  exertion  ;  without  it,  I  should  long 
since  have  thrown  myself  away  ;  and  often  now  I  feel  per- 
fectly reckless  about  life  and  fortune,  and  look  with  con- 
tempt upon  them  both." 

This  sounds  like  Byron,  whom  he  resembled,  not  only 
in  lameness,  but  in  his  genius  and  in  many  other  respects. 

'*  There  was  much  about  him  to  remind  you  of  Byron  :  the  cast  of 
his  head,  the  classic  features,  the  fiery  and  restive  nature,  the  moral 
and  personal  daring,  the  imaginative  and  poetical  temperament,  the 
scorn  and  deep  passion,  the  deformity  of  which  I  have  spoken,  the 
satiric  wit,  the  craving  for  excitement,  and  the  air  of  melancholy  he 
sometimes  wore,  his  early  neglect,  and  the  imagined  slights  put  upon 
his  unfriended  youth,  the  collisions,  mental  and  physical,  which  he 
had  with  others,  his  brilliant  and  sudden  reputation,  and  the  romantic 


SOJOURN  m  THE  SOUTH.  279 

interest  -which  invested  him,  make  up  a  list  of  correspondences,    still 
further  increased,  alas  !  by  his  untimely  death." 

"But,"  he  continues  in  his  letter,  "  I  am  solaced  only 
by  the  recollection  that  there  are  true  hearts  that  beat  for 
me  with  real  affection.  Thi^  comes  over  me  as  the  music 
of  David  did  over  the  dark  spirit  of  Saul." 

Mr.  Prentiss  had  scarcely  passed  a  decade  from  his 
majority  ere  he  was  the  idol  of  Mississippi.  While  absent 
from  the  State  his  name  was  brought  before  the  people 
for  Congress ;  the  State  then  voting  by  general  ticket, 
and  electing  two  members.  "  He  was  elected,  but  the  sit- 
ting members,  Gholson  and  Claiborne,  refused  to  give  up 
their  seats  on  the  ground  that  they  were  elected  at  the 
special  election  ordered  by  Governor  Lynch,  for  two  years 
and  not  for  the  session  only." 

If  he  had  astonished  the  Mississippi  bar  with  the  sudden 
burst  of  his  eloquence,  like  "the  Disinherited  Knight," 
he  entered  the  lists  in  the  Halls  of  Congress  with  the 
great  champions  of  debate,  and  astonished  both  Houses 
by  his  noble  defence  of  Mississippi,  and  by  the  power  and 
charm  of  his  oratory. 

When  congress  met,  he  and  Word,  his  colleague,  had  not 
yet  arrived.  Wise,  Webster,  Clay  and  others  of  their 
party,  held  a  caucus  to  see  what  should  be  done  with  the 
"Mississippi  contested  election,"  and  they  resolved  that 
the  two  members.  Word  and  Prentiss,  should  be  taken  in- 
to pupilage  and  put  under  a  course  of  training,  and  that 
some  able  member  should  aid  them  with  arguments  and- 
prepare  them  for  their  parts. 

At  this  suggestion  W.  C.  Dawson,  late  senator  from 
Georgia,  who  knew  Prentiss,  arose  and  said  : 

"  Oh,  gentlemen,  you  need  to  be  at  no  such  pains ;  you 
have  no  babes  to  nurse.  One  of  them  is  a  host  in  himself, 
who  can  take  care  of  Mississippi,  and  rather  help  us,  to 


280  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

boot,  tlian  require  our  '  pap-spoons.'      He  is   not   only 

full  grown,  though  low  in  stature  and  lame  in  gait,  but  a 

giant,  who  is  head  and  shoulders   taller  than  any  man  I 

know,  here  or  elsewhere,  for  the  task  of  prompting  and 

defending   himself.     We   nq^d   not   say,    Up-a-diddy  to 

him." 

He  did  take  care  of  Mississippi.     He  was  admitted  to 

the  bar  of  the  House  to  defend  and  assert  his  right  and 
those  of  his  State.  He  stood  there  and  battled  for  her  like 
Diomede  amoncr  the  i^ods.  ''  He  delivered  then  that 
speech  which  took  the  House  and  the  country  b^'  storm ; 
an  effort,  which  if  his  fame  rested  upon  it  alone,  for  its 
manliness  of  tone,  exquisite  satire,  gorgeous  iinagery,  and 
argumentative  power,  would  have  rendered  his  name  im- 
perishable." 

Preston,  Crittenden,  Clay,  Adams,  Webster — the  whole 
Senate,  came  down  to  hear  his  speech,  and  flocked  around 
him,  charmed  with  his  eloquence. 

Filluiore,  then  in  the  House,  said — "  I  never  can  forget 
it ;  it  was  certainly  the  most  brillia7it  speech  I  ever 
heard." 

Webster  exclaimed  to  a  senator,  ori  leaving  the  hall — 
"  Nobody  could  equal  it."  Wise  grew  eloquent  in  thus 
speaking  of  it : 

"  Prentiss'  turn  came.  He  threvr  himself  on  the  arena' 
at  a  single  bound,  but  not  in  the  least  like  a  harlequin. 
He  stepped  no  stranger  on  the  boards  of  higli  debate — he 
raised  the  eye  to  heaven,  and  trod  with  giant  steps.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  feelings  he  inspired  and  the  triumph 
he  won.  But  there's  the  speech,  or  at  least,  a  fragment 
of  it  surviving  hi)n.  There  is  the  figure  of  the  star  and 
strii^e  ;  go  read  it ;  read  it  now  that  his  eye  is  diin,  and 
his  muscles  cease  to  move  the  action  to  the  word ;  then 
imagine  what  it  was  as  his  tongue  spake  it,  his  eye  looked 
t,  his  hand  gesticulated  his  thoughts." 


SOJOURN   IX   THE    SOUTH.  281 

Here  is  the  closing  period  of  that  speech  that  placed 
him  first  among  the  orators  of  the  land. 

"But  if  your  determination  is  taken  ;  if  the  blow  must 
fall ;  if  the  violated  constitution  must  bleed ;  I  have  but 
one  request  in  her  behalf  to  make :  when  you  decide  that 
she  cannot  choose  her  own  representatives,  at  that  self- 
same moment  blot  from  the  spangled  banner  of  the 
Union  the  bright  star  that  glitters  to  the  name  of  Miss- 
issippi, hut  leave  the  stripe  behind,  a  fit  emblem  of  her 
degredation." 

The  house  opposed  to  him  as  it  was  in  political  senti- 
ment, reversed  its  former  judgment,  which  declared  Ghol- 
son  and  Claiborne  entitled  to  tlieir  seats,  and  divided 
equally  on  the  question  of  admitting  Prentiss  and  Word. 
The  speaker,  however,  gave  Lhe  casting  vote  against  the 
latter,  and  the  election  was  referred  back  to  the  people. 

Peentiss  immediately  addressed  a  circular  to  the  voters 
of  Mississppi,  in  which  he  announced  his  intention  to  can- 
vass the  State. 

"  The  applause  wliicli  greeted  him  at  "Washington,  and  -which  attend- 
ed the  speeches  that  he  -was  called  on  to  make  at  the  North,  came 
thundering  back  to  his  adopted  State.  His  friends — and  tlieir  name 
was  legion — thought  before  that  his  talents  were  of  the  highest  order ; 
and  when  their  judgments  were  thus  confirmed — when  they  received 
the  endorsement  of  such  men  as  Clay,  Webster  and  Calhoun,  they  felt 
a  kind  of  personal  interest  in  him :  he  was  their  Prentiss.  They 
had  first  discovered  him — first  brought  him  out — first  proclaimed  his 
greatness.     Their  excitement  knew  no  bounds. 

"  The  canvass  opened — it  was  less  a  canvass  than  an  ovation.  He 
went  through  the  State — a  herculean  task — making  speeches  every  day, 
except  Sundays,  in  the  sultry  months  of  summer  and  fall.  People  of  all 
claisses  and  both  sexes  turned  out  to  hear  him.  He  came,  as  he  declared, 
less  on  his  own  errand  than  on  theirs,  to  vindicate  a  violated  constitu- 
tion, to  rebuke  the  insult  to  the  honor  and  sovereignty  of  the  State,  to 
uphold  the  sacred  rights  of  the  people  to  elect  their  own  rulers.  The 
theme  wfls  worthy  of  the  orator,  the  orator  of  the  subject, 

*'  This  may  be  considered  the  golden  prime  of  the  genius  of  Prentiss. 


282  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

His  real  eflFective  greatness  liere  attained  its  culminating  point.  lie 
had  tlie  whole  State  for  his  audience,  and  the  honor  of  the  State  for 
his  subject.  Not  content  with  challenging  his  competitors  to  the  field, 
he  threw  down  the  gauntlet  to  all  comers.  Some  able  opponents  ac- 
cepted the  challenge.  But  in  every  instance  of  such  temerity,  the  op- 
poser  was  made  to  bite  the  dust. 

"Ladies  surrounded  the  rostrum  with  their  carriages,  and  added,  by 
their  beauty,  interest  to  the  scene;  there  was  no  element  of  oratory 
that  his  genius  did  not  supply.  It  was  plain  to  see  where  his  boyhood 
had  drawn  its  romantic  inspiration.  His  imagination  was  colored  and 
imbued  with  the  light  of  the  shadowy  past,  and  was  richly  stored  with  the 
unreal  but  life-like  creations,  which  the  genius  of  Shakspeare  and  Scott 
had  evoked  from  the  ideal  world.  He  had  lingered  spell-bound,  among 
the  scenes  of  the  medaevial  chivalry.  His  spirit  had  dwelt,  until  almost 
naturalized,  in  the  mystic  dream-land  they  peopled — among  paladins, 
and  crusaders,  and  knight-templars  ;  with  Monmouth  and  Percy — with 
Bois  Gilbert  and  Ivanhoe,  and  the  bold  McGregor,  with  the  cavaliers 
of  Rupert,  and  the  iron  enthusiasts  of  Fairfax.  As  Judge  Bullard  re- 
marks of  him,  he  had  the  talent  of  an  Italian  improvisatore,  and  could 
speak  the  thought  of  poetry  with  the  inspiration  of  oratory,  and  in  the 
tones  of  music.  The  fluency  of  his  speech  was  unbroken — no  syllable 
unpronounced — not  a  ripple  on  the  smooth  and  brilliant  tide.  Prob- 
ably he  never  hesitated  for  a  word  in  his  life.  His  diction  adapted  it- 
self, without  effort,  to  the  thought ;  now  easy  and  familiar,  now  state- 
ly and  dignified,  now  beautiful  and  various  as  the  hues  of  the  rainbow, 
again  compact,  even  rugged  in  sinewy  strength,  or  lofty  and  grand  in 
eloquent  declamation.  His  face  and  manner  were  alike  uncommon. 
The  turn  of  his  head  was  like  Byron's ;  the  face  and  action  were  just 
what  the  mind  made.  The  excitement  of  the  features,  the  motions  of 
the  head  and  body,  the  gesticulations  he  used,  were  all  in  absolute  har- 
mony with  the  words  you  heard. 

"With  such  abilities  as  we  have  alluded  to,  and  surrounded  by  such 
circumstances,  he  prosecuted  the  canvass,  making  himself  the  equal 
favorite  of  all  classes.  Old  Democrats  were  seen,  with  tears  running 
down  their  cheeks,  laughing  hysterically ;  and  some  who,  ever  since 
the  formation  of  parties,  had  voted  the  Democratic  ticket,  from  coro- 
ner up  to  governor,  threw  up  their  hats  and  shouted  for  him."        • 

Interesting  stories  are  told  of  the  wonder  of  his  elo- 
quence, in  this  canvass,  how  he  captivated  the  back-woods- 
men, being,  in  his  speeches  to  them,  as  profuse  of  his 
classical  allusions — gems  of  his  own  rich  fancy,  as  he  would 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  283 

be  before  a  refined  and  intellectual  audience.  He  gave 
the  unlettered  back-woodsman  more  credit  for  appreciating 
these  rarer  beauties  of  a  speech  than  is  generally  done. 
They  looked  upon  him  with  as  much  wondjer,  in  tl|e  fascinating 
and  brilliant  display  of  his  eloquence,  as  the  Don  Cossacks 
did  upon  Murat  as  he  appeared  before  them  on  his  richly 
caparisoned  steed  in  all  his  dashing  splendor  of  dress.  At 
one  time  a  caravan  and  circus  followed  him  wherever  he 
went,  in  order  to  get  his  audiences.  .They  would  often 
give  him  their  tent  gratis,  when  he  would  mount  the  lion's 
cage,  for  a  rostrum,  and  in  some  of  his  most  thrilling  pass- 
ages, would  stamp  on  the  cage  and  arouse  the  "tawny 
kino:  of  the  forest"  and  the  other  beasts,  which  he  would 
sieze  and  apply  to  the  benefit  of  his  cause  ; — "  Why,  don't 
you  see  that  the  lion  and  the  very  beasts  of  the  forest  are 
enraged  when  I  mention  the  unprecedented  course  of  our 
opponents.." 

"  His  humor  was  as  various  as  profound — from  the  most  delicate  wit 
to  the  broadest  farce,  from  irony  to  caricature,  from  classical  allusions 
to  the  verge — and  sometimes  beyond  the  verge — of  jest  and  Falstaff 
extravagance  ;  and  no  one  knew  in  which  department  he  most  excelled. 
His  animal  spirits  flowed  over  like  an  artesian  well,  ever  gushing  out 
in  a  deep,  bright,  and  sparkling  current." 

"The  personnel  of  this  remarkable  man  was  well  calculated  to  rivet  the 
interest  his  character  inspired.  Though  he  was  low  of  stature,  and 
deformed  in  one  leg,  his  frame  was  uncommonly  athletic  and  muscular ; 
his  arms  and  chest  were  well  formed,  the  latter  deep  and  broad ;  his 
head  was  large,  and  a  model  of  classical  proportions  and  noble  contour. 
Wise  said  of  it :  '  His  head  I  saw  was  tw^  stories  high,  with  a  large 
"  attic"  on  top,  above  which  was  his  bump  of  comparison  and  venera- 
tion.' A  handsome  face,  'He  liad  a  face,'  says  Baylie  Peyton,  'of 
physiognomical  eloquence,'  compact  brow,  massive  and  expanded,  and 
eyes  of  dark  hazel,  full  and  clear,  were  fitted  for  the  expression  of  any 
passion  and  flitting  shade  of  feeling  and  sentiment.  His  complexion 
partook  of  the  bilious  rather  than  the  sanguine  temperament.  The 
skin  was  smooth  and  bloodless — no  excitement  or  stimulus  hightened 
its  color  ;  nor  did  the  writer  ever  see  any  evidence  in  his  face  of  irreg- 
ularity of  habits.     There  was  nothing  affected  or  artificial  in  his  man- 


284  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR'S 

ner,  though  some  parts  of  his  printed  speeches  would  seem  to  indicate 
this.  lie  was  iVank  and  artless  as  a  child .  and  nothing  could  have 
been  more  winning  than  his  familiar  intercourse  with  the  bar,  with 
whom  he  was  always  a  favorite,  and  without  a  rival  in  their  affection." 

Hls  native  basLfuluess  in  the  companY  of  ladies,  wa3 
rather  rc)narka])le.  He  had  but  a  poor  opinion  of  himself 
in  i^aY  circles.     He  thouojht  himself  slisjhted  bY  them  on 

O     •/  O  CD  I, 

account  of  his  lameness.  He  told  Judge  Wilkinson  that 
"He  never  couhl  overcome  his  timiditY  before  ladies, 
when,"  said  he,  ''were  I  let  down  any  moment,  suddenly 
and  imprcpared,  through  the  roof,  into  the  Britisli  Parlia- 
ment, T  could  immerliately  commence  a  speech  without  fear 
or  hesitation."  Once  out  of  the  drawing-room  of  ladies, 
before  the  bar,  on  the  r-ostrum,  stage  or  stump,  and  their 
presence  inspired  him.  Fine  stories  are  told  of  his  speeches 
changing — bec(jmbig  more  poetical  and  glowing  as  some 
beautifid  lady  come  into  his  presence. 

In  Ids  speech  at  Xatches,  which  is  noted  for  its  refined 
ci'dzQDS — Jie  little  chivalrous  Churlestown  of  3iississippi — 
"he  wa.r."  soys  Peyton,  "the  hero  of  romance  in  real 
life.  He  was  ever  inspu^ed  by  the  presence  of  ladies  and 
he  pom*cd  ouii  the  choicest  gems  of  his  cxhaustless  fancy." 
"The  ladies,  God  bless  them,"  he  would  say — "in  the 
sincerity  of  my  heart  I  thank  them  for  their  presence  on 
this  occasion.  I  wish  I  were  able  to  say  or  conceive  some- 
thing  wortliy  of  them — gladly  would  I  bind  up  my  brightest 
and  best  thouirhts  into  boquets,  and  throw  them  at  their 
feet."  Speaking  of  tneir  heroic  courage  he  went  on — 
"  The  ladies  of  Poland  stripped  the  jewels  from  their 
delicate  finirers  and  snowY  necks,  and  cast  them  into  the 
famished  treasury  of  their  bleeding  country." 

Speaking  of  himself,  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  sisters,  he 
says, — "  f  can  not  write ;  I  never  could  express  myself 
freely  with  pen  f^nd  paper — my  thoughts  are  too  quick." 


SOJOURN  IX  THE   SOUTH.  285 

Judcre  Wilkinson  asked  Lim,  in  tlie  streets  of  New 
York,  if  he  did  not  think  his  speeches  too  iinaginutive,  as 
he  had  heard  said  of  them.  Prentiss  replied,  "  The 
natural  bent  of  my  mind  is  to  dry  and  pure  vaiiocination  ; 
but  finding  early  that  mankind,  from  a  petit  jury  to  the 
highest  deliberative  assembly,  are  more  influenced  by  illus- 
tration than  by  argument,  I  have  cultivated  my  imagination 
in  aid  of  my  reason." 

"While  on  this  visit  to  his  home  in  the  Xorth,  he  was 
an  invited  guest  to  "  Old  Faneuil  Hall,"  on  the  occasion 
of  a  dinner  given  to  Webster.  The  great  Statesman  intro- 
duced him  to  an  applauding  audience,  "V\'ho  had  "  called 
him  out"  to  address  them.  He  said  in  this  speech  ^' That 
if  the  Governraent  vrent  down,  he  wanted  it  to  go  down 
administration  first — head-foremost." 

What  he  thoucrht  of  the  administration  we  can  orather 
from  this  closing  paragraph  of  his  speech  on  "  Defalcation 
in  Congress." 

"  Let  the  present  Executive  be  re-elected — let  him  con- 
tinue to  be  guided  by  the  counsels  of  ]\Iephistocles  and 
Asmodeus,  the  two  familiars  who  are  ever  at  his  elbow — 
these  lords,  the  one  of  letters,  the  other  of  lies — and  it 
will  not  be  lon'^r  that  this  mi^rhtv  hall  will  echo  to  the  voice 
of  an  American  Representative.  The  Capitol  will  have  no 
other  use  than  to  attract  the  cm-iosity  of  the  passing  trav- 
eler, who,  in  melancholy  idleness  will  stop  to  inscribe  on 
one  of  these  massive  pillars,  '''•Here  was  a  Repuhlic.''' 

He  was  toasted,  while  on  a  visit  to  his  home  in  Portland, 
Maine,  as  a  "  Son  of  Portland,  in  whose  talents  and  ac- 
quirements the  vigor  of  the  North  was  united  to  the  fertility 
and  luxuriance  of  the  South." 

He  had  scarcely  been  home  over  two  hours,  ere  he  was 
interrupted  while  going  in  to  breakfast, — he  was  really 
besieged  by  invitations  to  address  Whig  gatherings  when- 


286  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

ever  he  "went  North — by  a  gentleman  bringing  him  a  letter 
from  a  Whig  Clay  Club,  to  address  a  meeting.  "  Why, 
they  seem  to  think,"  said  he,  "it  is  as  easy  for  me  to 
make  speeches,  as  it  is  for  a  juggler  to  pull  ribbons  out  of 
his  mouth." 

He  could  always  find  time  to  write  tender  and  affection- 
ate letters  to  his  brothers  and  sisters  and  always  wrote  one 
to  his  "dear  mother,"  on  every  New  Year's  Day,  which 
was  filled  with  the  love  of  a  true  and  loving  son.  In  one 
to  his  "  dear,  sweet  sister  Anna,"  he  says,  "I  feel  very 
gloomy,  and  am  sorry  to  find  a  tendency  to  melancholy 
fast  overcoming  my  natural  spirits.  It  is  the  worse  because 
I  can  trace  it  to  no  practical  cause.  It  broods  over  me 
like  a  black  cloud.  I  sometimes  wish  I  could  lie  down, 
go  to  sleep  and  not  wake." 

How  truly  Barry  Cornwall  has  described  this  feeling  in 
the  following  beautiful  lines  : — 

"  A  deep  and  a  mighty  shadow 
Across  my  hea»t  is  thrown, 
Like  clouds  o'er  a  summer  meadow 
That  a  thunder  wind  hath  blown. 
The  wild  rose  fancy  dieth, 
The  sweet  bird  memory  flieth  » 

And  leaveth  me  alone  I" 

He  never  forgot  his  friends,  nor  did  his  love  for  the 
North  abate — he  alwavs  cherished  her,  and  in  his  speeches 
made  beautiful  allusions  to  her. 

"  Attachment  to  his  friends,"  says  one  of  his  literary  associates  at 
the  bar,  "  was  a  passion.  It  was  a  part  of  the  loyalty  to  the  honorable 
and  chivalric,  which  formed  the  sub-soil  of  his  strange  and  wayward 
nature.  He  never  deserted  a  friend.  His  confidence  knew  no  bounds. 
It  scorned  all  restraints  and  considerations  of  prudence  or  policy.  He 
made  his  friends'  quarrel  his  own,  and  was  as  guardful  of  their  repu- 
tation as  his  own.  He  would  put  his  name  on  the  back  of  their  paper, 
without  looking  at  the  face  of  it,  and  give  his  carte  blanche,  if  needed, 


SOJOUKX   IN   THE   SOUTH.  287 

by  the  quire.  He  knew  no  jealousy  or  rivalry.  His  love  of  truth,  his 
fidelity  and  frankness,  were  founded  on  the  antique  models  of  the 
cavaliers. 

"The  same  histrionic  and  dramatic  talent  that  gave  to  his  oratory  so 
irresistible  a  charm,  and  adapted  him  to  all  grades  and  sorts  of  people, 
fitted  him  in  conversation  to  delight  all  men.  He  never  staled  and 
never  flagged.  Even  if  the  fund  of  acquired  capital  could  have  run 
out,  his  originality  was  such,  that  his  supply  from  the  perennial  foun- 
tain within  was  inexhastible. 

*'  It  was  always  a  mooted  point  among  Prentiss'  admirers,  as  to  where 
his  strength  lay.  The  emiment  Chief-justice  of  the  high  court  of  error 
and  appeals  of  Mississippi,  thought  that  Prentiss  appeared  to  most  ad- 
vantage before  that  court.  Other  distinguished  judges  said  the  same 
thing. 

"In  arguing  a  cause  of  much  public  interest,  he  got  all  the  benefit 
of  the  sympathy  and  feeling  of  the  bystanders.  He  would  sometimes 
turn  to  them  in  an  impassioned  appeal,  as  if  looking  for  a  larger  audi- 
ancethan  court  and  jury,  and  the  excitement  of  the  outsiders,  especial- 
ly in  criminal  cases,  was  thrown  with  great  etfect  into  the  jury  box." 
He  was  never  thrown  off  his  guard,  ot  seemingly  taken  by  surprise. 
He  kept  his  temper  ;  or  if  he  got  furious,  there  was  '  method  in  his  mad- 
ness.' He  had  a  faculty  of  speaking  I  never  knew  possessed  by  any 
other  person.  He  seemed  to  speak  without  any  effort  of  the  will.  All 
seemed  natural  and  unpremeditated.  No  one  felt  uneasy  lest  he  might 
fall ;  in  his  most  brilliant  flights  the  '  empyrean  hights'  into  which  he 
soared  seemed  to  be  his  natural  elements — as  the  upper  air  the  eagle's. 
I  never  heard  of  but  one  client  of  his  who  was  convicted  of  a  charge 
of  homicide,  and  he  was  convicted  of  one  of  its  lesser  degrees.  So 
successful  was  he,  that  the  expression,  '■Prentiss  could'nt  clear  him' — 
was  a  hyperbole  that  expressed  the  desperation  of  a  criminal's  for- 
tunes. 

"Among  the  most  powerful  of  his  jury  efforts,  were  his  speeches 
against  Bird  for  the  murder  of  Cameron  ;  a"fad  against  Phelps — the. no- 
torious highway  robber  and  murderer.  Both  were  convicted.  The 
former  owed  his  conviction,  as  General  Foote,  who  defended  him  with 
great  zeal  and  ability,  said,  to  the  transcendent  eloquence  of  Prentiss. 

"  Phelps  was  one  of  the  most  daring  and  desperate  of  ruffians.  He 
fronted  his  prosecutor  and  court  not  only  with  composure,  but  with 
scornful  and  malignant  defiance.  When  Prentiss  rose  to  speak,  and 
for  sometime  afterwards,  the  villain  scowled  upon  him  a  look  of  hate 
and  violence — attempting  to  intimidate  him  with  a  brutal  stare. 

"But  when  the  orator,  kindling  with  his  subject,  turned  upon  him  a 


288  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

stream  of  burning  invective,  like  lava,  upon  his  head ;  when  he  de- 
picted the  villainy  and  barbarity  of  his  bloody  atrocities  ;  when  he 
pictured,  in  dark  and  awful  colors,  the  fate  which  awaited  him,  and 
the  awful  judgment,  to  be  pronounced  at  another  bar,  upon  his  crimes, 
when  he  should  be  confronted  with  his  innocent  victims,  when  he 
fixed  his  gaze  of  concentrated  power  upon  him,  and  like  the  ancient 
Mariner, 

"Held  hira  with  his  glittering  eye," 

the  strong  man's  face  relaxed:  his  eyes  faltered  and  fell;  until,  at 
length,  unable  to  bear  up  longer,  self-convicted,  he  hid  his  head  be- 
neath the  bar,  and  exhibited  a  picture  of  ruffian  audacity  cowed 
beneath  the  spell  of  tnie  courage  aud  triumphant  genius.  Though  con- 
victed, he  was  not  hung.  Be  broke  jail,  and  resisted  re-capture  so  des- 
perately, that  although  he  was  encumbered  with  his  fetters,  his  pursu- 
ers had  to  kill  him  in  self-defence,  or  permit  his  escape." 

In  liis  defence  of  Judge  Wilkiiison,  Lis  learned  and  es- 
teemed friend,  vrlio,  as  the  public  knows  was  tried  for 
the  murder  of  the  tailur,  of  whoDi  he  had  procured  a  suit 
of  clothes,  from  a  quarrel  arising  about  tlie  suit,  he  was 
as  profound  as  Webster  in  his  reasoning,  and  unusually 
animated  and  iutpassioned  in  his  elo(|uence ;  he  was  de- 
fending the  reputation  and  ]ife  of  a  cherished  friend.  His 
invective  and  sarcasm  were  pom-ed  out  upon  Redding  ; — 
his  scathing  wit  upon  Oldham.  "  Surely,"  says  he,  ".  Mr. 
Oldham  is  the  knight-errant  of  t\\p  age — the  Don  Quixote 
of  the  West — the  paragon  of  chivalry  !"  &c.,  &c. 

It  is  said  that  Holt,  his  eminent  rival  at  the  I\Iississippi 
bar,  was  the  greatest  lawyer  prepared  tliat  ever  appeared 
in  its  courts ;  and  that  Prentiss  was  the  greatest  nnjyre- 
pared.  Holt  said  of  him  that  he  was  tlie  only  man  he  ev- 
er met  whose  performance  was  equal  to  his  reputation. 

"Nature  had  gifted  him  with  the  lawyer's  highest  talent — the 
acumen  which,  like  instinct,  enabled  him  to  see  the  points  which  the 
record  presented.  His  genius  for  generalizing  saved  him,  in  a  mo- 
ment, tjie  labor  of  a  long  and  tedious  reflection  upon,  and  collection  of 
the  several  parts  of  a  narrative,  or  subject.  An  instance  is  given  of 
this  ability  in  the  following  anecdote. . 


SOJOURN   IX   THE   SOUTH.  289 

"Prentiss  was  associated  with  General  M.,  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guish3d  lawyers  in  the  State.  During  the  session  of  the  court,  at  which 
time  the  case  was  to  come  on,  General  M.  frequently  called  the  atten- 
tion of  Mr.  P.  to  the  case,  and  proposed  examining  the  records,  hut  he 
deferred  it.  At  last  it  was  agreed  to  examine  the  case  the  night  be- 
fore the  day  set  for  the  hearing.  At  the  appointed  time  Prentiss  could 
not  be  found.  General  M.  was  in  great  perplexity.  The  case  was  of 
great  importance — very  able  counsel  opposed  them;  his  client  and 
himself  had  trusted  greatly  to  Prentiss'  assistance.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  case  was  called  up  in  court.  General  M.,  then  young,  arose  to 
open  the  case,  as  Prentiss  came  in  the  court-room,  made  the  points 
and  read  the  authorities  he  had  collected.  The  counsel  on  the  other 
side  replied.  Prentiss  then  rose  to  rejoin.  His  junior  counsel  could 
scarcely  conceal  his  apprehensions.  But  there  was  no  cloud  on  the 
brow  of  the  speaker ;  the  conscioiisness  of  his  power  and  of  ap- 
proaching victory  sat  on  his  face.  He  delivered  a  most  masterly 
speech  in  which  he  displayed  learning — research,  reason — even  sur- 
passing the  expectations  of  his  friends  as  he  surpassed  himself. 

Genius  seemed,  at  times,  to  possess  him  so  entirely  as 
to  give  him  the  full  portrayal  of  a  subject  which  he  had 
not  studied,  then  to  leave  him  light  enough  on  it  to  master 
it  in  detail,  at  his  pleasure.  That  fine  literary  writer.  Rev. 
Mr.  Clapp,  of  New  Orleans,  gives  an  instance  of  this  kind, 
in  an  address  of  Prentiss',  before  a  most  enlightened  audi- 
ence of  that  city,  on  Sculpture  ;  of  which  his  brother  savs, 
"besides  being  a  chance  orator,  without  a  moment's  pre- 
paration, he  knew  nothing  at  all ;  but  in  which  he  not  only 
surpassed  himself  but  the  expectations  of  his  friends." 

His  address  to  the  returned  volunteers  of  Taylor's  army 
from  Mexico,  delivered  from  the  portico  of  St.  Charles 
Hotel,  New  Orleans,  every  body  has  admired.  I  have  seen 
soldiers  who  heard  it  and  spoke  of  it  as  having  the  thrilling 
effect  of  martial  music  on  the  audience.  The  address  was 
clothed  with  all  the  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  a  Clay  or 
Choate,  and  the  deep  pathos  and  patriotism,  and  national 
pride  of  a  Webster. 

His  address  at  a  New  England  festival,  was  still  giving 


290  .     JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

you  more  and  more  of  the  riches  of  his  mind — something 
rare — a  "  fresh  dish,"  as  he  said  to  his  friends,  "they 
must  have  something  new." 

But  one  of  the  proudest  days  of  his  life  was  in  1844, 
when  he  addressed  a  Whig  Mass  Meeting  of  over  forty 
thousand  people,  at  Nashville,  Tennessee.  What  made 
this  day  a  greater  one,  he  was  the  orator  selected  for  this 
grand  occasion  by  five  hundred  of  Tennessee's  fairest 
daughters,  of  which  fact  he  was  informed  by  their  address- 
ing him  a  beautiful  letter  of  invitation. 

As  he  ascended  the  platform  and  saw  the  mighty  con- 
course before  him,  and  one,  too,  that  had  recently  been 
charmed  by  the  eloquent  "Harry  of  the  West,"  he  felt 
the  need  of  all  the  magic  powers  of  his  oratory.  While 
in  the  midst  of  his  speech,  the  greatness  of  the  occasion 
impressing  him,  he  soared  in  all  the  glory  of  his  eloquence 
— swaying  the  immense  crowd  with  its  charmed  power  ;  but 
he  had  exerted  himself  too  much — he  fainted,  and  fell  back 
into  the  arms  of  Governor  Jones,  who  exclaimed,  as  he 
received  his  eloquent  and  cherished  friend — "  Die  I  Pren- 
tiss, die  !  you  will  never  find  a  more  glorious  opportunity." 
The  mighty  throng  were  touched  with  deep  sympathy  for 
their  idol  orator,  and  cried  out, — "  Let  him  rest !  bring 
cordials  and  restore  him  !  we'll  wait !"  As  he  began  again. 
Governor  Jones  cautioned  him  to  speak  with  less  effort,  but 
it  was  like  restraining  the  flight  of  the  eagle,  he  soon  become 
as  eloquent  as  before,  and  finished  this  most  celebrated 
speech  with  a  grandeur  worthy  of  the  occasion,  and  worthy 

of  the  man. 

In  his  speech  at  Natches,  also,  in  1844,  he  gave  that 
enlightened  audience  who  cherished  him  as  their  eloquent 
Bayard,  and  who,  when  they  heard  the  "clump"  of  his 
cane  on  the  stage,  welcomed  him  with  shouts  of  applause — 
a  splendid  eulogy  of  Henry  Clay,  extolling  him  as  one  of 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  291 

the  great  ones  of  the  "world.  He  had  a  lisp  in  his  speech, 
which,  when  he  become  sarcastic,  changed  into  a  "  serpent 
hiss."  After  he  had  given  this  splendid  portraiture  of 
Claj,  he  turned  round  and  asked — "  Who  was  James  K. 
Polk  ?"  A  breathless  pause  for  an  answer — and  he  replied 
in  his  hissing  accent — ''  A  blighted  burr  that  has  falleii 
from  the  mane  of  the  war-horse  of  the  Heimitage.'' 

A  bj-stander  says, — ''  Old  Democrats  forgot  themselves 
and  joined  in  the  general  shout,  for  the  plaudits  were  terri- 
ble— out-voicing  the  deep  toned  sea." 

He  said  in  the  same  speech,  refering  to  the  wide  differ- 
ence between  Walker's  two  Texas  letters,  grasping  and 
dashing  them  under  his  feet — "  I  wonder,  that  like  the  acid 
and  the  alkali,  they  do  not  effervesce  as  they  touch  each 
other  !" 

Here  is  a  beautiful  passage  from  one  of  his  last  speeches, 
and  we  give  it  as  not  only  one  of  his  last,  but  as  most 
beautifully  applying  to  the  close  of  his  own  life.  It  was 
delivered  to  a  large  gathering  of  his  friends.  He  was 
standing  between  two  trees,  on  a  platform  at  the  close  of 
the  day.  Taking  into  consideration  every  thing  connectecl 
with  the  close  of  this  speech — the  last  noble  aspirations  of 
a  loving  spirit,  which  it  breathes  —  the  self-devotion  to 
every  noble  cause  in  which  he  engaged,  the  admiration  which 
followed,  and  the  charm  in  the  presence  of  this  brilliant 
orator,  and  the  approach  of  a  near  grave  glimmering  sadly 
through  the  whole,  there  is  perhaps  no  simile  in  English 
composition  considering  the  circumstances  and  feelings 
under  which  it  was  expressed  that  casts  so  touching  an 
interest. 

"  Friends,  that  glorious  orb  reminds  me  that  the  day  is 
spent,  and  that  I  too  must  close.  Ere  we  part,  let  me 
hope  that  it  may  be  our  good  fortune  to  end  our  days  in 
the  same   splendor,    and  that   when  the   evening  of  life 


292  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

comes,  we  may  sink  to  rest  with  the  clouds  that  close  in 
our  departure,  gold-tipped  with  the  effulgence  of  a  well- 
spent  life." 

We  have  not  spoken  of  his  faults,  his  vices,  he  had  them ; 
but  as  one  of  the  fairest  daughters  of  the  South,  speaking 
to  us  of  them,  remarked,,  his  genius  and  that  noble  heart 
of  his,  would  excuse  them  all. 

A  fine  writer,  and  one  of  his  eulogists,  says  of  him  : — 

"  At  this  day  it  is  difficult  for  any  one  to  appreciate  the  enthusfasm 
which  greeted  this  gifted  man,  the  admiration  which  was  felt  for  him, 
and  the  affection  which  followed  him.  He  was  to  Mississippi,  in  her 
youth,  what  Jenny  Lind  is  to  the  musical  world,  or  what  Charles  Fox, 
whom  he  resembled  in  many  things,  was  to  the  Whig  party  of  England 
in  his  day.  Why  he  was  so  it  is  not  difficult  to  see.  He  was  a  type  of 
his  times,  a  representative  of  the  qualities  of  the  people,  or  rather  of 
the  better  qualities  of  the  wilder  and  more  impetuous  part  of  them. 
The  proportion  of  young  men,  as  in  all  new  countries,  was  great,  and 
the  proportion  of  wild  young  men,  was,  unfortunately,  still  greater. 

"  He  had  all  those  qualities  which  make  us  charitable  to  the  character 
of  Prince  Hal,  as  it  is  painted  by  Shakspeare,  even  when  our  approval 
is  not  bestowed.  Generous  as  a  price  of  the  royal  blood,  brave  and 
chivalrous  as  a  knight-templar,  of  a  spirit  that  scorned  every  thing 
mean,  underhanded  or  servile,  he  was  prodigal  to  improvidence,  instant 
in  resentment,  and  bitter  in  his  animosities  ;  yet  magnanimous  to  for- 
give when  reparation  had  been  made,  or  misconstruction  explained 
away.  There  was  no  littleness  about  him.  Even  towards  an  avowed 
enemy,  he  was  open  and  manly,  and  bore  himself  with  a  sort  of 
antique  courtesy  and  knightly  hostility,  in  which  self-respect  was 
mingled  with  respect  for  his  foe,  except  when  contempt  was  mixed 
with  hatred ;  then  no  words  can  convey  any  sense  of  the  intensity  of 
his  scorn — the  depth  of  his  loathing.  When  he  thus  out-lawed  a  man 
from  courtesy  and  respect,  language  could  scarcely  supply  words  to 
express  his  disgust  and  detestation. 

*'  Even  in  the  vices  of  Prentiss,  there  were  magnificence  and  brilliancy 
imposing  in  a  high  degree.  When  he  treated,  it  was  a  mass  entertain- 
ment. On  one  occasion,  he  chartered  the  theatre  for  the  special 
gratification  of  himself  and  friends — the  public  generally.  He  bet 
thousands  on  the  turn  of  a  card,  and  would  witness  the  success  or 
failure  of  the  wagjr  with  the  nonchalance  of  a  Mexican  monte-player, 
or,  as  was  most  usual,  with  the  light  humor  of  a  Spanish  muleteer. 


SOJOURX   IN   THE   SOUTH.  293 

<* 
He  broke  a  faro-bank  by  the  nerve  with  which  he  laid  his  large  bets, 
and  by  exciting  the  passion  of  the  veteran  dealer,  or  awed  him  into 
honesty  by  the  glance  of  his  strong  and  steady  eye.  He  never  seemed 
to  despond  for  a  moment  ;  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  life  were  mere 
bagatelles  to  him.  Sent  to  jail  for  an  affray  in  the  court-house  he  made 
the  walls  of  the  prison  resound  with  the  unaccustomed  shouts  of  merri- 
ment and  revelry.  Starting  to  fight  a  duel,  he  laid  down  his  hand  at 
poker,  to  resume  it,  he  said  with  a  smile,  when  he  returned  ;  and  went 
on  the  field  laughing  with  his  friends  as  to  a  pic-nic.  Yet  no  one  knew 
better  the  proprieties  of  life  than  himself — when  to  put  off  levity,  and 
to  treat  grave  subjects  and  persons  with  proper  respect;  and  no  one 
could  assume  and  preserve  more  gracefully  a  dignified  and  sober 
demeanor." 

For  the  last  four  years  of  his  life,  practice  becoming  less 
remunerative  in  Mississippi,  and  having  mastered  the 
intricate  "Justinian  code"  of  Louisiana,  he  practiced  in 
his  profession  at  the  New  Orleans  bar.  He  died  in  1850, 
at  the  residence  of  his  wife's  father,  near  Natches.  We 
have  thus  given  you  what  we  have  gathered  from  the  life 
and  speeches,  and  from  those  who  knew  and  have  seen  and 
heard  this  eminent  orator.  "  He  had,"  says  a  friend  of  his, 
"  the  noblest  intellect,  and  the  most  chivalrous  character 
that  the  Almighty  ever  bestowed  upon  the  human  form," 

This  is  S.  S.  Prentiss,  the  "limping  boy"  of  Maine, 
who  became  the  Bayard  of  Southern  chivalry,  whose 
eloquence,  like  the  Mississippi — strong  and  impressive — 
flowing  amid  a  region  attractive  with  beauty — grand  with 
picturesque  views,  and  rich  with  genial  and  gorgeous 
scenery,  so  charmed  the  sunny  South. 

But  he  has  gone.  He  lies  buried  near  that  noble  river, 
which  first,  when  he  was  a  mere  Yankee  boy,  "  caught 
his  poetic  eye,  and  stirred  by  its  aspects  of  grandeur,  his 
sublime  imagination  ;  upon  whose  shores  first  fell  his  burn- 
ing and  impassioned  words  as  they  aroused  the  rapturous 
applause  of  his  astonished  auditors.  And  long  will  that 
noble  river  roll  out  its  tide  into  the  gulf,  ere  the  roar  of 


294  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

its  current  shall  mingle  with  the  tones  of  such  eloquence 
again — eloquence  as  full  and  majestic,  as  resistless  and 
sublime,  and  as  wild  in  its  sweep  as  its  own  sea-like  flood  : 

*  The  mightiest  river 
Rolls  mingling  with  his  fame  forever.' 

"  The  tidings  of  his  death,  came  like  wailing  over  the 
State,  and  we  all  heard  them  as  the  toll  of  the  bell  for  a 
brother's  funeral.  The  chivalrous  felt,  when  they  heard 
that  '  young  Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold,'  that  the  world 
had  grown  common-place  ;  and  the  men  of  wit  and  genius, 
or  those  who  could  appreciate  such  qualities  in  others, 
looking  over  the  surviving  bar,  exclaimed  with  a  sigh : 

'  The  flash  of  wit,  the  bright  intelligence 
The  gleam  of  mirth — the  blaze  of  eloquence 
Set  with  HIS  sun.'  " 

And  this  beautiful  allusion  from  Wordsworth  was  made 
to  him  by  a  loving  brother,  but  which  all  felt  to  be  as  true 
as  beautiful : 

*'  The  rainbow  comes  and  goes, 

And  lovely  is  the  rose ; 

The  moon  doth  with  delight 

Look  round  her  when  the  heavens  are  bare ; 

Waters  on  a  starry  night  are  beautiful  and  fair ; 

The  sunshine  is  a  glorious  birth ; 

But  yet  I  know  where'er  I  go, 
That  there  has  passed  a  glory  from  the  earth." 


COLONEL  McCLUNG. 

"And,  Douglas,  I  tell  thee  here. 
E'en  in  thy  pitch  of  pride. 

Here,  in  thy  hold,  thy  vasals  near, 
(Nay,  ne'er  look  upon  your  lord, 

And  lay  your  hand  upon  your  sword,) 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  295 

I  tell  thee,  thou'rt  defied! 
And  if  thou  saidst  I  am  not  peer 
To  any  lord  in  Scotland  here — 
Lowland  or  Highland,  far  or  near, 

Lord  Angus,  thou  hast  lied  !  " 

The  subject  of  my  memoir  is  a  hero  ;  not  one  of  "Flod- 
den  Field,"  but  of  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista.  Heroes 
are  plentiful  in  these  days — when  opportunities  for  making 
them  are  so  plenty. 

The  "pibroch"  has  but  to  sound  and — 

"Belted  Will  Howards  will  come  with  speed 
And  Williams  of  Deloraine — good  at  need." 

Had  Colonel  Mc Clung  lived  in  the  days  of  Charlemagne, 
he  would  have  been  the  Roland  of  his  camp.  Had  he  lived 
in  the  time  of  James  IV.  of  Scotland,  he  would  have  been 
a  hero  of  whom  Scott  would  have  made  a  "  Marmion" — 

"  A  stalworth  knight  and  keen — " 

for  his  splendid  physique 

*' and  strength  of  limb, 

Showed  him  no  carpet  knight  so  trim. 

But  in  close  fight,  a  champion  grim, 

In  camps  a  leader  sage." 

Had  he  had  a  field  for  the  display  of  his  powers — one 
in  which  his  genius  would  have  culminated,  we  cannot  say 
what  he  would  have  made — but  surely  nothing  short  of 
a  hero. 

He  would  have  made  a  splendid  Highland  chief — a  peer 
of  the  proudest,  that — 

**Ever  couched  a  border  lance  by  knee." 

For  his  nature  was  imperious — he  was  a  lord  of  the  manor 
born,  and  ought  to  have   had   his   true  inheritance.     He 


296  JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR'S 

seemed  to  be  an  anachronistic  to  our  times — he  belonged  to 
the  da^^s  of  chivah-j,  he  was  our  Ivanhoe,  a  disinherited 
knight. 

"  Human  nature  repeats  itself  in  adventure.''  Colonel 
McClung  was  a  character  of  the  "feudal  days,"  repeated 
to  us.  But  fortune  plays  the  clown  as  she  plays  the  hero 
with  us;  she  spoiled  the  "acts,"  cut  short  the  "scenes," 
and  in  place  of  a  hero  of  the  "border  feuds,"  or  a  true 
drama  of  the  past  being  repeated,  she  turned  it  into 
a  "farce." 

She  left  Colonel  McClung  as  she  did  Richard  on  the 
field  of  Bosworth,  in  tragic  want.  But  he  instead  of 
exclaiming,  like  that  hero,  "  A  horse  !  a  horse  !  my  king- 
dom for  a  horse!"  cried  out : — "A  Bosworth!  a  Bos- 
worth !  my  kingdom  for  a  Bosworth." 

We  said  Colonel  McClung  had  an  imperious  nature  ;  he 
grew  up  with  it,  and  in  his  triumphant  progress  to  manhood, 
was  adorned  with  every  variety  of  manly  dignity  and 
accomplishment. 

If  he  abused  them,  'twas  through  a  want  of  purpose  in 
his  life — the  opportunity  that  makes  the  man.  AYanting 
this,  he  lacked  restraint ;  the  good  and  evil  grew  together  ; 
and  passion,  self-willed  and  imperious  as  his  nature,  con- 
troled  him. 

That  he  had  a  very  warm,  generous  and  rich  nature 
was  shown  from  the  richness  of  its  soil,  manifested  by  the 
"  weeds  that  grew  up  and  flourished  in  it."  And  if  he 
was  "  morose,"  it  was  because  they  choked  up  the  "herbs 
of  grace"  and  kept  the  sunshme  from  it. 

But  that  you  may  better  understand  him,  we  will  give 
you  his  "  traits"  as  they  were  given  to  us,  by  a  chivalrous 
son  of  the  South,  who  knew  and  admired  him. 

"  Colonel  McClung  was  a  native  of  Kentucky.  He 
first  located,  after  leaving  his  native  State,  in  Huntsville, 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  297 

Alabama,  but  very  soon  after  came  to  Jackson  or  Vicks- 
burgh,  Mississippi,  I  am  not  sure  which,  to  practice  in  his 
profession  as  lawyer.  But  being  of  dissipated  habits — he 
both  drank  and  gambled — he  never  attained  a  very  high 
distinction  at  the  bar.  But  his  splendid  intellect,  and 
great  powers  as  a  speaker,  and  highly  cultivated  mind — 
with  his  knightly  bearing — secured  for  him  a  circle  of 
admiring  friends — especially  among  the  Whigs,  of  which 
party  he  was  the  '  Belted  Will  Howard.'  He  was  of  a  stern, 
morose  and  overbearing  temper,  which  doubtless  was  the 
chief  cause  of  the  difficulties  which  resulted  in  the  fatal 
duels  that  he  fouo;ht. 

"  He  had  the  port  and  air  of  one  who  seemed  to  expect 
and  demand  homage  of  those  among  whom  he  moved.  He 
was  of  splendid  form,  about  six  feet  high,  and  admirably 
well  proportioned ;  just  such  a  model  as  Rome  would  have 
chosen  for  her  gladiatorial  exhibitions.  He  had  a  large 
head  with  full  animal  and  intellectual  developement,  thick, 
curly,  light,  sandy  hair,  locks  which  he  would  twist,  like  a 
girl,  with  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  when  wholly  im- 
mersed in  thought. 

^'  I  have  looked  at  him  in  this  attitude,  when  some 
thought  having  aroused  his  mind,  his  eye  was  that  of  an 
enraged  tiger,  he  unconscious,  the  while,  that  another  eye 
was  upon  him.  I  never  saw  him  turn  to  speak  to  even  a 
friend,  but  if  approached,  he  greeted  you  very  politely. 
He  was  always  in  a  debauch  or  deeply  buried  in  his  books. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  political  writers  in  the 
State,  and  the  adversary  that  measured  lances  with  him 
always  knew  that  he  had  a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel.  He 
was  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  the  first  Mississippi  regiment, 
that  won  immortal  honor  at  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista, 
and  in  an  assault  upon  one  of  the  forts  was  the  first  to 
mount  the  wall  and  shout  defiance  to  the  foe,  when  he  re- 


298  JOTTIXGS   OF  A   TEAR'S 

ceived  a  severe  wound  from  a  ball  that  carried  awaj  t'^o 
of  his  fingers  and  lodged  in  his  thigh.  It  is  said,  I  believe, 
that  it  passed  through  both  of  his  thighs.  His  career  in 
Mexico  is  well  known ;  he  proudly  won  the  title  of  the 
'bravest  of  the  brave.'" 

After  I  had  left  the  South,  on  visiting  that  most  beauti- 
ful of  Western  villacres — Kalamazoo,  in  Michigan,  I  was 
informed  that  an  old  favorite  servant  of  Colonel  McClung's 
was  residing  in  that  place.  Anxious  to  get  anything  ox 
the  private  history  of  this  iflan,  from  so  good  a  source,  I 
started  out  in  pursuit  of  this  "  vein"  of  information.  After 
some  little  search,  I  came  across,  in  the  subui"bs  of  the 
place,  a  fine  looking  negro,  hoeing  in  a  garden.  I  asked 
his  name — it  was  the  one  I  had  been  referred  to.  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  ever  known  Colonel  McClung,  of  Mississippi. 
His  eye  kindled,  at  the  mention  of  that  name,  with  ani- 
mated pride,  as  he  answered — "  Yes,  sir,  I  knew  him  well. 
I  was  his  servant,  sir." 

He  afterwards  informed  me  that  he  had  been  Colonel 
McClung's  hired  servant  for  six  years,  for  which  services  he 
received  twenty-eight  dollars  per  month,  and  that  he  often 
gave  him  three  or  fojir  dollars  a  week  as  a  "bonus"  for 
kind  acts  he  had  performed  for  him. 

The  following  anecdotes  and  reminiscences  of  this  dis- 
tinguished character  were  written  down  as  they  were 
narrated  to  me  by  his  servant  Jo : 

"He  "was  at  'Cooper's  Wells,'  Mississippi,  at  the  table  with  some 
'choice  friends  ;'  and,  after  wine  had  brought  out  his  shining  qualities 
— the  heroic  imprint  of  the  man,  as  heat  brings  out  anew  the  figures 
and  imprint  upon  old  coin,  he  began  to  relate  some  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing events  of  his  life  ;  and  every  time  he  came  to  the  culminating  point 
of  the  story,  that,  in  which  his  disperate  and  heroic  valor  was  shown, 
he  would  look  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  table,  at  a  little,  inferior 
sized  man,  and  exclaim  with  an  emphasis  that  was  enforced  by  striking 
his  hand  on  the  table, — *  I'm  a  whale,  sir  !  Fm  a  whale,  sir .'' 


SOJOUEN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  299 

*'  The  little  fellow,  thinking  he  meant  to  render  him  insignificant, 
stood  these  repeated  taunts  as  long  as  he  could,  then  gathering  himself 
up  into  all  of  his  insulted  dignity,  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and  retorted 
with  all  the  taunting  force  of  his  voice, — 'And  Pvi  no  sardine,  sir! 
Pm  no  sardine,  sir  /' 

*'  At  this  McClung  laid  his  hand  upon  his  pistol  and  turning  to  the  little 
fellow  with  a  look  that  the  enraged  tiger  gives  ere  he  pounces  on  his 
victim — paused — paused  to  consider  whether  he  had  not  better  extin- 
guish such  base  afifrontery  at  a  blow.  But  his  fierce  gaze  was  met  by 
one  as  fierce  and  undaunted  from  our  liliputian  hero,  who  gave  him 
*  eye-shot,'  barbed  with  scorn  and  defiance.  That  glance  gave  McClung 
an  idea  of  the  kind  of  man  he^Vras  dealing  with,  for  he  resumed  himself, 
and  in  a  few  moments  was  round  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  making 
the  acquaintance  of  the  man.  He  considered  it  better  to  keep  such 
men  his  friends,  and  it  was  well  perhaps  ;  for  the  little  hero  had  a  rep- 
utation as  a  duellist. 

"  While  gambling  in  a  faro-bank,  in  Vicksburgh,  some  slight  disa- 
greement arose  between  him  and  the  dealer,  S.,  which  soon^assumed  the 
form  of  a  quarrel.  But  S.  was  too  drunk  to  sustain  himself  in  it,  and 
his  friend  B.  took  up  the  dispute  for  him,  which  resulted  in  challenging 
Colonel  McClung  to  fight  him.  The  parties  met  on  the  accustomed 
dueling  ground,  secluded  in  the  little  woody  '  Hoboken,'  across  the 
river  from  Vicksburgh,  and  exchanged  shots  in  which  Colonel  McClung 
wounded  B.  in  the  shoulder. 

"At  'Cooper's  Wells,'  in  the  Summer  of  1853,  memorable  for  the 
raging  of  the  yellow  fever  in  this  part  of  the  South,  Colonel  McClung 
and  a  noted  gambler  by  the  name  of  McCoy,  had  been  on  a  '  spree'  for 
several  days  when  a  word  of  discord  was  dropped  by  one  of  them, 
that  brought  on  a  high  dispute  in  which  McCoy  challenged  McClung 
to  meet  him  on  the  field  of  honor ;  which  McClung  took  in  such  high 
dudgeon,  that,  with  his  boot,  he  attacked  him  '  where  it  hurts  honor 
the  most' — he  literally  kicked  him  down  stairs." 

The  following  is  an  instance  of  his  chivalrous  nature — 
one  in  which  he  made  another's  insult  his  own : 

"  In  an  affray,"  says  Jo,  "that  took  place  in  a  cofi"ee-house,  in 
Vicksburgh,  I  saw  a  man  in  a  quarrel  with  a  negro,  kick  the  latter  out 
doors,  at  which  Colonel  McClung,  thinking  the  negro  was  highly  abused, 
became  so  exasperated,  that  he  kicked  the  man  out  after  him ;  which 
he  instead  of  resenting,  settled  by  inviting  McClung  to  drink  a  flowing 
bumper  with  him  at  the  bar.  Sometime  after  this  as  Colonel  ^McClung 
was  passing  St.  Charles  Hotel,  New  Orleans,  he  saw  the  man  of  Vicks- 


300  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

burgh  coffee-house  notoriety,  kicking  some  one  out  of  the  bar-room  of 
that  Hotel,  upon  -which  McClung  stopped  and  eyed  him  with  something 
of  amazement,  which  our  hero  recognizing,  came  up  to  him  and  famil- 
liarly  putting  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  remarked. — 'Ah,  Colonel,  say 
nothing  about  the  old  afifair,  it  takes  us  to  do  these  things — you  and  I 
knoic   ivho  to  kick.^  " 

Another  instance  in  wliicli  he  made  a  friend's  quarrel 
his  own  was  related : 

"  A  Mr.  B.,  broken  in  health,  and  somewhat  impaired  in  mind,  got 
into  some  dispute  with  another  gentleman,  which  Colonel  McClung,  on 
account  of  his  friend's  infirm  state  of  health,  took  up  for  him.  The 
parties  accordingly  met  on  the  '  old  duel  ground.'  There  appeared  to 
have  been  a  peculiar  or  malignant  type  of  hate  between  McClung  and 
his  antagonist,  which  might  have  arisen  from  the  former's  esteem  for 
his  friend,  and  the  idea  of  his  being  challenged  when  not  in  a  proper 
state  of  health  to  defend  himself;  be  this  as  it  may,  McClung  had 
some  of  the  '  Achillean  revenge'  in  him,  when  he  came  upon  the  ground, 
for  he  most  tauntingly  asked  his  adversary  to  give  him,  as  a  memorial 
of  him,  a  rich  diamond  pin  that  glittered  on  his  bosom.  This  he  re- 
fused to  do.     '  Then  d n  you,'  said  McClung,   'I'll  blow  it  through 

your  heart.'  The  threat  did  not  fail  in  being  executed  ;  he  sent  the 
glittering  gem  through  his  heart.  Thus  he  left  another  antagonist 
dead  on  the  field  of  honor. 

"  While  listening  to  a  political  speech,  at  Xew  Carthage,  from  his 
opponent  for  the  Legislature,  Colonel  McClung,  exclaimed  to  one  of  his 

assertions — 'that's  a  d d  lie.'    The  speaker  paused,  left  the  stand, 

and  swore  he  would  'whip  the  man  that  gave  that  calumnious  fling.' 
But  on  being  shown  the  man  that  had  so  terribly  incensed  him — Lo,  it 
was  Colonel  McClung  !  He  was  surprized — flurried  and  entirely  inca- 
pable of  carrying  out  his  threat.  He  curbed  his  wrath,  and  invited 
McClung  up  to  a  stand,  hard  by,  beneath  an  oak  tree,  and — treated  him. 

"  Mr.  P.,  a  wealthy  planter,  was  called  the  'best  pistol  shot'  in 
Mississippi,  and  Colonel  McClung  the  next.  A  challenge  passed  between 
this  'Roland  and  Oliver;'  they  met  and  McClung  left  him  seriously, 
wounded  on  the  field. 

"  I  am  confident,"  says  Jo,  "  it  is  putting  it  down  low  enough  to  say 
that  he  has  fought  a  dozen  duels,  and  in  five  or  six  of  them,  he  '  stuck 
his  man  on  the  daisies.' 

"  The  last  man  he  shot  was  in  a  Hotel  in  Jackson,  Mississippi.  This 
sad  castrophe  was  the  result  of  a  quarrel  with  this  gentleman.  He 
shot  him  down  dead  in  the  bar-rooifi. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  301 

"  I  heard  him  relate,"  says  my   informant,  "the  following  story  of 
his  adventures  in  the  Mexican  war  : 

"He  was  riding  out  one  afternoon,  toward  sunset,  when  suddenly, 
from  a  dense  cliaparral,  seven  guerrillas  sprang  out,  like  tigers  from  a 
jungle,  and  fiendishly  attacked  him  with  their  sabres.  " 


Now — 


"  Good  night  to  Marmion." 


*& 


"But  fear  not — doubt  not — which  thou  wilt, 
He'll  try  this  quarrel  hilt  to  hilt." 

"Seeing  himself  beset  by  this  hoard,  he  multiplied  himself  for  the 
occasion,  and  dealt  them  the  blows  of  a  '■Geur  de  Leon,''  while  they  plied 
him  with  cuts  and  deadly  thrusts  on  all  sides,  giving  him  a  deep  sabre- 
wound  on  his  head  over  his  right  eye,  and  two  on  the  left  shoulder  ; 
yet  he  fought  like  the  hero  of  a  thousand  battles,  till  five  of  them  were 
unhorsed  and  lay  dead  or  wounded  on  the  ground." 

"Each  stepping  where  his  comrade  stood, 
The  instant  that  he  fell." 

"  But  the  two  remaining  ones  fought  on  with  desperation,  determined 
to  kill  their  dreadful  foe,  till  one  of  them,  assured  from  his  fighting 
that  they  had  a  hero  to  deal  with,  cried  out  to  his  companion,  in  Span- 
ish,— '  This  must  be  Colonel  Mc Clung,  for  he  fights  like  a  bull  dog.' 

"  At  which,  McClung,    who  understood   Spanish,  cried  out, — '  Yes, 

you  d d  wretches,  I  am  Colonel  McClung,  but   you  will  not  escape 

to  tell  that  you  ever  met  him  in  battle,'  saying  which,  he  sent  one  head- 
long to  the  ground  with  a  blow  of  his  sword,  and  the  other  took  flight 
and  escaped." 

"My  name,"  says  our  narrator,  "is  Charles  La  Crouix,  but  Jo  was 
a  favorite  name  with  Colonel  McClting,  he  called  all  of  his  servants  by 
that  name;  it  was  necessary  to  be  'Joed'  ere  they  became  his  servants. 
He  would  often,  when  under  the  spell  of  liquor,  call  out  at  the  top 
of  his  voice — '  Jo, — Jo, — Jo,' — as  if  he  loved  to  dwell  on  that  soft 
monosyllable. 

"When  he  had  been  drinking  I  always  took  care  of  his  money, 
which  would  sometimes  amount  to  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand 
dollars,  and  sometimes  he  had  not  enough  to  pay  his  tavern  bills.  I 
have  known  him,  when  sober,  to  be  up  night  after  night,  doing  nothing 
but  walking  backwards  and  forwards,  all  night  long,  with  two,  and 
sometimes  three  candles  burning." — Here  Jo  got  up  and  showed  me  how 


302  JOTTINGS   OF   A  YEAR's 

he  walked  the  room — "  With  arms  folded  this  way,"  says  he,  "  like  an 
Alexander,  an(f  with  the  most  perfect  military  tread  I  ever  saw — he 
moved  as  straight  as  a  Choctaw.  If  any  one  spoke  to  him  while  thus 
walking  and  talking  to  himself,  he  would  stop,  take  oflF  his  hat,  give 
you  a  gentlemanly  attention,  and  having  heard  what  you  had  to  say, 
would  answer  you  very  politely  and  correctly. 

"  He  lived  in  Jackson  the  most  of  the  time  when  I  was  his  servant, 
where  he  owned  several  houses  and  lots.  He  never  married  but  was 
very  fond  of  the  society  of  ladies." 

"  Ever  the  first  to  scale  a  tower 
As  venturous  in  a  lady's  bower." 

"He  would  often  ride  out  with  them  in  his  carriage,  for  he  was  a 
great  favorite  with  them,  and  in  their  society  he  was  a  very  polite 
gentleman  as  he  was  always  when  sober,  and  was  never  inclined  to 
be  quarrelsome  or  insult  any  one  ;  and  no  gentleman  could  insult  him. 
His  maxim  was  : 

"  A  moral,  sensible  and  well-bred  man. 
Will  not  affront  me  ;    and  no  other  can." 

This  is  the  end  of  Jo's  narrative. 

Colonel  Me  Clung  was  twice  the  candidate  of  his  party 
for  a  seat  in  Congress  and  twice  defeated.  He  had  enter- 
tained no  doubt  of  his  election  in  this  last  contest,  and  the 
defeat  came  upon  him  like  that  of  Philippi  upon  Brutus,  he 
was  terribly  chagrined,  and  felt  from  his  inmost  soul,  that : 

"Nor  poppy  nor  mandragora, 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  sii'ups  of  the  East 
Could  medicine  him  again  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  he  knew  yesternight." 

• 
That  which  made  his  opponent  sleep  well,  had  '•  murdered 
sleep"  for  him.  "  His  doom  was  a  sad,  though  perhaps 
not  a  strange  one,  when  the  history  of  his  life  is  impar- 
tially reviewed.  It  was  one  of  violence  and  blood.  In  a 
moment  of  apparent  calmness  and  composure,  he  cut  short 
his  own  life  by  blowing  out  his  brains." 

He  has  passed  through  a  life  of  sad  reverses  to  escape 
which,  he  finally  made  a  desperate  ''  retreat."     And  now  : 


SOJOURN  IN  THE   SOUTH.  303 

"After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well." 

But,  traveler,  stop  not  to  weep  over  his  grave,  pass  on : 

"  0,  'tis'well  the  strife  is  o'er : 
Fold  his  mantle  o'er  his  breast, 
Peacefully  he  sleeps  and  blest, 
Let  him  rest.  " 

Pass  on ;  and  when  the  ringing  of  "  fame's  old  bells" 
shall  tell  of  valorous  and  heroic  deeds  in  war,  think  that 
they  rung  for  him  once  at  Monterey  and  Beuna  Vista,  when, 

"  Old  Zack!  Old  Zack!  the  war-cry  rattles, 

Among  those  men  of  iron  tread, 
As  rung  '  Old  Fritz'  in  Europe's  battles, 

When  thus  his  host  Great  Frederick  led." 


COLONEL  JEFFERSON  DAVIS. 

Of  this  distinguished  son  of  the  South  we  have  no  rem- 
iniscences, but  give  the  following  notice  of  him  by  a 
Northern  young  lady,  who  made  a  trip  down  the  Missis- 
sippi with  Colonel  Davis,  as  it  exhibits  a  fine  trait  of  the 
man. 

"  Senator  Davis  I  like  very  much,  and  when  I  tell  you 
that  upon  our  arrival  in  Yicksburgh,  he  went  to  the  officer 
of  the  '  McKae' — the  boat  we  took  for  Deer  Creek — and 
requested  him,  as  a  personal  favor,  to  see  that  everything 
was  arranged  for  my  comfort  and  convenience  during  the 
trip,  and  that  I  knew  nothing  of  this  until  Mr.  Porterfield 
told  me,  you  will  acknowledge  that  he  possesses  as  much 
chivalry  and  courtesy  for  the  fair  sex  as  he  has  credit  for 
in  the  '  Southern  World.' 

He  is  plain  in  dress  and  appearance,  but  possesses  great 
suavity  of  manner,  and  is  one  of  the  most  brilliant  conver- 
sationalists I  ever  listened  to.  The  "casket"  is  rough, 
but  it  contains 


304  '         JOTTINGS   OF  A  YEAR's 

**  A  gem  of  purest  ray  serene." 

On  our  passage  down  the  Mississippi  the  passengers, 
more  particularly  the  ladies,  were  very  anxious  to  hear 
his  views  on  the  present  topics  of  the  day.  They  hence 
addressed  him  a  very  polite  note  to  that  effect,  when  they 
received  the  following  from  him : 


Steamer  J.  C.  Swan,  March  20th,  '59. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  ; 

Accept  my  grateful  acknowledgements  of  your 
kind  invitation  to  hear  my  views  upon  the  public  questions  which  con- 
cern the  welfare  of  our  common  country. 

Flattered  by  the  wish  you  express,  and  willing  at  all  times  to  inter- 
change opinions  with  my  fellow-countrymen  upon  the  issues  which  it 
devolves  upon  us  to  decide,  I  regret  that  my  physical  condition  will 
not  permit  me  to  comply  with  your  request  in  the  manner  indicated. 

In  the  present  posture  of  affairs,  there  is  much  to  excite  the  patriotic 
anxiety  of  our  people,  and  to  arouse  to  earnest  effort  every  citizen  of 
the  land.  Blessed  with  an  inheritance  of  peculiar  value,  won  by  the 
blood  of  our  ancestors,  it  requires  but  a  small  part  of  the  wisdom  and 
virtue  of  those  from  whom  we  are  descended,  to  secure  the  transmis- 
sion of  the  institutions  we  enjoy,  to  posterity.  And  I  trust,  however 
gloomy  our  prospects  may  be,  that  the  cloud  will  pass  as  the  April 
shower,  leaving  to  us  the  sun  of  our  political  existence  all  the  brighter 
for  the  temporary  shadow  which  obscured  it. 

Our  government  was  formed  to  bless  the  people  by  the  conjoint  ac- 
tion of  the  sovereignties  united  for  the  common  good.  Its  powers 
were  defined  and  restricted  so  as  to  ensure  its  action  for  the  protection 
of  all,  and  to  prohibit  the  oppression  of  any.  Its  benefits,  whilst  its 
true  theory  is  adhered  to,  will  fall  like  the  gentle  dew.  To  pervert  it 
to  other  than  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  established,  would  be 
treason  to  our  fathers,  to  our  children,  and  to  the  hopes  of  human  lib- 
erty which  hang  upon  their  last  best  eflForta  for  the  maintenance  of 
self  government. 

-     With  my  best  wishes  for  your  individual  welfare  and  happiness, 
I  am  your  obliged  fellow  citizen. 

Jeff.  Davis. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  305 


MIKE    FINK 

THE 

BOB  ROY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY, 

AND 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  BOATMEN. 


-0- 


*'  My  foot  is  on  my  native  heath,  and  my  name  is  McGregor." 

Scott. 

"We  are  indebted  to  an  old  cast-aside,  and  time-worn  volume 
that  we  chanced  to  find  among  old  forsaken  books,  for  much  of 
the  following  brief  sketch  of  this  interesting  character. 

*'  Back  out !  Mannee  !  and  try  it  again !"  exclaimed  a  voice  from 
the  shore. 

"  Throw  your  pole  wide,  and  brace  off,  or  you'll  run  against  a  snag  !" 

This  was  a  kind  of  language  long  familiar  to  us  on  the  Ohio.  It  was 
a  sample  of  the  slang  of  the  keel-boatmen. 

The  speaker  was  immediately  cheered  by  a  dozen  voices  from  the 
deck,  and  I  recognized  in  him  the  person  of  an  old  acquaintance,  fa- 
miliarly known  to  me  from  my  boyhood.  He  was  leaning  carelessly 
against  a  large  beach ;  and  as  his  arm  negligently  pressed  a  rifle  to 
his  side,  presented  a  figure  that  Salvator  would  have  chosen  from  a 
million  as  a  model  for  his  wild  and  gloomy  pencil.  His  stature  was 
upwards  of  six  feet,  his  proportion  perfectly  symmetrical  and  exhibit- 
ing the  evidence  of  herculean  power.  To  a  stranger  he  would  have 
seemed  a  complete  mulatto.  Long  exposure  to  the  sun  and  weather  on 
the  lower  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  had  changed  his  skin ;  and  but  for  the 
fine  European  cast  of  his  countenance,  he  might  have  passed  for  the 
principal  warrior  of  some  powerful  tribe.  Although  at  least  fifty  years 
of  age,  his  hair  was  as  black  as  the  wing  of  a  raven.  Next  to  his  skin 
he  wore  a  red  flannel  shirt,  covered  with  a  blue  capot,  ornamented 
with  white  fringe.  On  his  feet  were  moccasins,  and  a  broad  leathern 
belt,  from  which  hung  suspended  in  a  sheath  a  large  knife,  encircled 
his  waist. 

U 


306  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

As  soon  as  tlie  steam-boat  became  stationary,  tlie  cabin  passengers 
jumped  on  shore.  On  ascending  the  bank,  the  figure  I  have  just  de- 
scribed advanced  to  offer  me  his  hand. 

"How  are  you,  Mike?"  said  I. 

"How  goes  it?"  replied  the  boatman,  grasping  my  hand  with  a 
squeeze  that  I  could  compare  to  nothing  but  a  blacksmith's  vice. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mannee!"  continued  he  in  his  abrupt  man- 
ner. "I  am  going  to  shoot  at  the  tin  cup  for  a  quart — off  hand,  and 
you  must  be  judge." 

I  understood  Mike  at  once,  and  on  any  other  occasion  would  have 
remonstrated,  and  prevented  the  daring  trial  of  skill.  But  I  was  ac- 
companied by  a  couple  of  English  tourists,  who  had  scarcely  ever  been 

yond  the  sound  of  Bow  Bells  ;  and  who  were  traveling  post  over  the 
United  States  to  make  up  a  book  of  observations,  on  our  manners  and 
customs.  There  were  also  among  the  passengers  a  few  bloods  from 
Philadelphia  and  Baltimore,  who  could  conceive  of  nothing  equal  to 
Chesnut  or  Howard  streets,  and  expressed  great  disappointment  at 
not  being  able  to  find  terrapins  and  oysters  at  every  village,  marvel- 
lously lauding  the  comforts  of  Rubicum's.  My  tramontane  pride  was 
aroused  and  I  resolved  to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  West- 
ern Lion,  for  such  Mike  undoubtedly  was — in  all  his  glory.  The  phi- 
lanthropist may  start,  and  accuse  me  of  want  of  humanity.  I  deny 
the  charge  and  refer  for  apology  to  one  of  the  best  understood  princi- 
ples of  human  nature. 

Mike,  followed  by  several  of  his  crew,  led  the  way  to  a  beach  grove, 
some  little  distance  from  the  landing.  I  invited  my  fellow  passengers 
to  witness  the  scene.  On  arriving  at  the  spot,  a  stout,  bull-headed  boat- 
man, dressed  in  a  hunting  shirt,  but  bare-footed,  in  whom  I  recog- 
nized a  younger  brother  of  Mike,  drew  a  line  with  his  toe ;  and  step- 
ping off  thirty  yards,  turned  round  fronting  his  brother,  took  a  tin 
cup  which  hung  from  his  belt,  and  placed  it  on  his  head.  Although  I 
had  seen  this  feat  performed  before,  I  acknowledge  I  felt  uneasy, 
whilst  this  silent  preparation  was  going  on.  But  I  had  not  much  time 
for  reflection,  for  this  second  Albert  exclaimed,  "Blaze  away  Mike  ! 
and  let's  have  the  quart." 

My  compagnons  de  voyage,  as  soon  as  they  recovered  from  the  first 
efi"ect  of  this  astonishment,  exhibited  a  disposition  to  interfere.  But 
Mike,  throwing  back  his  left  leg,  leveled  the  rifle  at  the  head  of  his 
brother.  In  this  horizontal  position  the  weapon  remained  for  some 
seconds  as  immovable  as  if  the  arm  which  held  it  was  afi"ected  by  no 
pulsation. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  307 

"  Elevate  your  piece  a  little  lower,  Mike !  or  you  will  pay  the  corn," 
cried  the  imperturbable  brother. 

I  know  not  if  the  advice  was  obeyed  or  not ;  but  the  sharp  crack  of 
the  rifle  immediately  followed  and  the  cup  flew  off  thirty  or  forty  yards, 
rendered  unfit  for  future  service.  There  was  a  cry  of  admiration 
from  the  strangers,  who  pressed  forward  to  see  if  the  fool-hardy  boat- 
man was  really  safe.  He  remained  as  immovable  as  if  he  had  been  a 
figure  hewn  out  of  stone.  He  had  not  even  winked  when  the  ball 
struck  within  a  few  inches  of  his  skull. 

"  Mike  has  won!"  I  exclaimed;  and  my  decision  was  the  signal 
which,  according  to  their  rules,  permitted  him  of  the  target  to  move 
from  his  position.  No  more  sensation  was  exhibited  by  the  boatmen, 
than  if  a  common  wager  had  been  won.  The  bet  being  decided,  they 
hurried  back  to  their  boat,  giving  me  and  my  friends  an  invitation  to 
partake  of  "the  treat."  We  declined  and  took  leave  of  the  thought- 
less creatures.  In  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  we  observed  their  "  keel" 
wheeling  into  the  current — the  gigantic  form  of  Mike  bestriding  the 
large  steering  oar,  and  the  others  arranging  themselves  in  their  places 
in  front  of  the  cabin,  that  extended  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the 
boat,  covering  merchandise  of  immense  value.  As  they  left  the  shore, 
they  gave  the  Indian  yell,  and  broke  out  into  a  sort  of  unconnected 
chorus,  commencing  with — 

"  Hard  upon  the  beech  oar  ! 

She  moves  too  slow  ! 
All  the  way  to  Shawnee  town, 

Long  while  ago." 

In  a  few  moments  the  boat  "took  the  chute"  of  Letarfs  Falls,  and 
disappeared  behind  the  point,  with  the  rapidity  of  an  Arabian  courser. 

Our  travelers  returned  to  the  boat,  lost  in  speculation  on  the  scene, 
and  the  beings  they  had  just  beheld ;  and  no  doubt  the  circumstance 
has  been  related  a  thousand  times  with  all  the  necessary  amplification 
of  finished  tourists. 

Mike  Fink  may  be  viewed  as  a  correct  representation  of  a  class  of 
men  now  extinct ;  but  who  once  possessed  as  marked  a  character,  as 
that  of  the  Gypsies  of  England,  or  the  Lazaroni  of  Naples.  The  period 
of  their  existence  was  not  more  than  a  third  of  a  century.  The  char- 
acter was  created  by  the  introduction  of  trade  on  the  Western  waters ; 
and  ceased  with  the  successful  establishment  of  the  steamboat. 

There  is  something  inexplicable  in  the  fact,  that  there  could  be  men 
found,  for  ordinary  wages,  who  would  abandon  the  systematic,  but  not 
laborious  pursuit  of  agriculture,  to  follow  a  life  of  all  others,  except 


308  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

that  of  a  soldier,  distinguished  by  the  greatest  exposure  and  privations. 
The  occupation  of  a  boatman  was  more  calculated  to  destroy  the  con- 
stitution, and  to  shorten  life  than  any  other  business.     In  ascending 
the  river,  it  was  a  continual  series  of  toil,  rendered  more  irksome  by 
the  snail-like  rate  at  which  they  moved.     The  boat  was  propelled  by 
poles,  against  which  the  shoulder  was  placed ;  and  the  whole  strength 
and  skill  of  the  individual  were  applied  in  this  manner.     As  the  boat- 
men moved  along  the  running-board,  with  their  heads  nearly  touching 
the  plank  on  which  they  walked,  the  effect  produced  on  the  mind  of  the 
observer  was  similar  to  that,  on  beholding  the  ox  rocking  before  an 
overloaded  cart.     Their  bodies  naked  to  the  waist,  for  the  purpose  of 
moving  with  greater  ease,  and  of  enjoying  the  breeze  of  the  river,  were 
exposed  to  the  burning  suns  of  summer,  and  the  rains  of  autumn.     After 
a  hard  day's  push,  they  would  take  their  "  fillee,"  or  ration  of  whisky, 
and  having  swallowed  a  miserable  supper  of  meat  half  burnt,  and  of 
bread  half  baked,  stretch  themselves,  without  covering,  on  the  deck, 
and  slumber  till  the    steersman's    call   invited   them  to    the   morning 
''fillee."     Notwithstanding  this,  the  boatman's  life  had  charms  as  ir- 
resistible  as   those   presented  by  the  splendid  illusions  of  the  stage. 
Sons  abandoned  the  comfortable  farms  of  their  fathers,  and  appren- 
tices fled  from  the  service  of  their  masters.     There  was  a  captivation 
in  the  idea  of  "  going  down  the  river  ;"  and  the  youthful  boatman  who 
had  "pushed  a  keel"  from  New  Orleans  felt  all  the  pride  of  a  young 
merchant,  after  his  first  voyage  to  an  English  sea-port.     From  an  exclu- 
sive association  together  they  had  formed  a  kind  of  slang  peculiar  to 
themselves  ;    and  from  the  constant  exercise  of  wit,  with  "the  squat- 
ters" on  shore,  and  crews  of  other  boats,  they    acquired   a    quickness 
and  smartness  of  vulgar  retort,  that  was  quite  amusing.     Another  wri- 
ter says  of  them  : 

No  wonder  the  way  of  life  the  boatmen  lead,  should  always  have  se- 
ductions that  prove  irresistible  to  the  young  people  that  live  near  the 
banks  of  the  river.  The  boats  float  by  their  dwellings  on  beautiful 
spring  mornings,  when  the  verdant  forest,  the  mild  and  delicious  tem- 
perature of  the  air,  the  delightful  azure  of  the  sky  of  this  country,  the 
fine  bottom  on  the  one  hand  and  the  romantic  bluff  on  the  other,  the 
broad  smooth  stream  rolling  calmly  down  the  forest,  and  floating  the 
boat  gently  forward,  all  these  circumstances  harmonize  in  the  excited 
youthful  imagination.  The  boatmen  are  dancing  to  the  violin  on  the 
deck  of  the  boat.  They  scatter  their  wit  among  the  girls  on  the  shore, 
who  come  down  to  the  water's  edge  to  see  the  pageant  pass.  The  boat 
glides  on  until  it  disappears  behind  a  point  in  the  wood.  At  this  mo- 
ment, perhaps  the  bugle,  with  which  all  the  boats  are  provided,  strikes 


SOJOURN   IX    THE    SOUTH.  309 

up  its  note  in  the  distance  over  the  water.  These  scenes,  and  these 
notes,  echoing  from  the  bluffs  of  the  beautiful  Ohio,  have  a  charm  for 
the  imagination,  which,  although  I  have  heard  a  thousand  times  re- 
peated, and  at  all  hours,  and  in  all  positions,  is  even  to  me  always 
new,  and  always  delightful.  No  wonder  the  young  who  were  reared 
in  these  remote  regions,  with  that  restless  curiosity  that  is  fostered  by 
solitude  and  silence,  who  witness  such  scenes  so  frequently,  no  won- 
der that  the  severe  and  unremitting  labors  of  agriculture,  performed 
directly  in  the  view  of  such  scenes,  should  became  tasteless  and  irk- 
some. 

But  these  men  thus  inured  to  hardships  became,  from  the  frequent 
battles  they  engaged  in,  with  the  boatmen  of  different  parts  of  the  riv- 
er, and  with  the  less  civilized  inhabitants  of  the  lower  Ohio  and  Mis- 
sissippi, invested  with  a  famous  and  rather  ferocious  reputation,  which 
has  made  them  spoken  of  in  this  country  and  throughout  Europe. 

On  board  of  the  boats  thus  navigated,  our  merchants  entrusted  val- 
uable cargoes,- without  insurance,  and  with  no  other  guarantee  than 
the  receipt  of  the  steersman,  who  possessed  no  property  but  his  boat ; 
and  the  confidence  so  reposed  was  seldom  abused.  And  wonderful  to 
relate,  these  boats  were  pulled  up  from  New  Orleans  to  Pittsburgh  by 
twenty  or  thirty  half  naked  Creoles,  a  laborious  task  of  six  months  or 
more.  Sometimes  they  were  pulled  up  by  long  ropes  hitched  to  trees 
ahead,  or  by  hooking  long  stout  canes  in  the  roots  of  trees  on  the 
banks,  assisted  by  men  pushing  at  the  pole. 

Among  these  men  Mike  Fink  stood  an  acknowledged  leader  for  many 
years.  Endowed  by  nature  with  those  qualities  of  intellect,  that  give 
the  possessor  influence,  he  would  have  been  a  conspicuous  member  in 
any  society  in  which  his  lot  might  have  been  cast.  An  acute  observer 
of  human  nature  has  said,  "  Opportunity  alone  makes  the  hero. 
Change  but  their  situations,  and  Caesar  would  have  been  but  the  best 
wrestler  on  the  green." 

"With  a  figure  cast  in  a  mould  that  added  much  of  the  symmetry  of 
an  Apollo  to  the  limbs  of  a  Hercules,  he  possessed  gigantic  strength, 
and  accustomed  from  an  early  period  of  his  life  to  brave  the  dangers 
of  a  frontier  life,  his  character  was  noted  for  the  most  daring  in- 
trepidity. At  the  court  of  Charlemagne,  he  might  have  been  a 
Eoland :  with  the  Crusaders  he  would  have  been  the  favorite  of 
the  Knight  of  the  Lion-heart,  and  in  our  revolution  he  would  have 
ranked  with  the  Morgans  and  Putnams  of  the  day.  He  was  the  hero  of 
a  hundred  fights,  and  the  leader  in  a  thousand  daring  adventures. 
From  Pittsburgh  to  St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans,  his  fame  was  estab- 
lished.    Every  farmer  on  shore  kept  on  good  terms  with  Mike ;  other- 


310  JOTTINGS   OF  A   YEAR's 

wise  there  was  no  safety  for  bis  property.  "Wherever  he  was  an  en- 
emy, like  his  great  prototype,  Rob  Roy,  he  levied  the  contributions  of 
Black  Mail,  for  the  use  of  his  boat.  Often  at  night,  when  his  retired 
companions  slept,  he  would  take  an  excursion  of  five  or  six  miles, 
and  return  before  morning  rich  in  spoil.  On  the  Ohio,  he  was  known 
among  his  companions  by  the  appellation  of  the  "  Snapping  Turtle;" 
and  on  the  Mississippi,  he  was  called  "  The  Snag." 

At  the  early  age  of  seventeen  Mike's  character  was  displayed  by  en- 
listing himself  in  a  corps  of  Scouts — a  body  of  irregular  rangers  which 
was  employed  on  the  north-western  frontier  of  Pennsylvania,  to  watch 
the  Indians,  and  to  give  notice  of  any  threatened  inroad. 

At  that  time  Pittsburgh  was  on  the  extreme  verge  of  white  popula- 
tion, and  the  spies  who  were  constantly  employed  generally  extended 
their  explorations  forty  or  fifty  miles  to  the  west  of  this  post.  They 
Avent  out  singly,  lived  as  did  the  Indians,  and  in  every  respect  became 
perfectly  assimilated  in  habits,  taste  and  feeling,  with  the  red  men  of 
the  forest.  A  kind  of  border  warfare  was  kept  up,  and  the  Scout 
thought  it  as  praiseworthy  to  bring  in  the  scalp  of  a  Shawnee,  as  the 
skin  of  a  panther.  He  would  remain  in  the  wood  for  weeks  together, 
using  parched  corn  for  bread,  and  depending  on  his  rifle  for  his  meat, 
and  slept  at  night  in  perfect  comfort,  roUed  in  his  blanket. 

In  this  corps,  while  yet  a  stripling,  Mike  acquired  a  reputation  for 
boldness  and  cunning,  far  beyond  his  companions.  A  thousand  legends 
illustrate  the  fearlessness  of  his  character.  There  was  one,  which  he 
told  himself,  with  much  pride,  and  which  made  an  indelible  impres- 
sion on  my  boyish  memory.  He  had  been  sent  out  on  the  hills  of 
Mahoning,  when,  to  use  his  own  words,  he  "  saw  signs  of  Indians  be- 
ing about."  He  had  discovered  the  recent  print  of  the  moccasin  in  the 
grass,  and  found  drops  of  the  fresh  blood  of  a  deer  on  the  green  bush. 
He  became  cautious,  skulked  for  some  time  in  the  deepest  thickets  of 
hazle  and  briar,  and  for  several  days  did  not  discharge  his  rifle.  He 
subsisted  patiently  on  parched  corn  and  jerk,  which  he  had  dried  on 
his  first  coming  into  the  wood.  He  gave  no  alarm  to  the  settlements, 
because  he  discovered  with  perfect  certainty  that  the  enemy  consisted 
of  a  small  hunting  party,  who  were  receding  from  the  Alleghany. 

As  he  was  creeping  along,  one  morning,  with  the  stealthy  tread  of  a 
cat,  his  eye  fell  upon  a  beautiful  buck,  browsing  on  the  edge  of  a  barren 
spot,  three  hundred  yards  distant.  The  temptation  was  too  strong  for 
the  woodsman,  and  he  resolved  to  have  a  shot  at  every  hazard.  Re- 
priming  his  gun,  and  picking  his  flint,  he  made  his  approaches  in  the 
usual  noiseless  mnnner.  At  the  moment  he  reached  the  spot  from 
which  he  meant  to  take  aim,  he  observed  a  large  Indian  intent  on  the 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  311 

same  object,  advancing  from  a  direction  a  little  different  from  his  ovm. 
Mike  shrunk  behind  a  tree  with  the  qviickness  of  thought,  and  keeping 
his  eye  fixed  on  the  hunter,  waited  the  result  with  patience.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  Indian  halted,  within  fifty  paces,  and  leveled  his  piece  at 
the  deer.  In  the  meanwhile  Mike  presented  his  rifle  at  the  body  of 
the  savage  :  and  at  the  moment  the  smoke  issued  from  the  gun  of  the 
latter,  the  bullet  of  Fink  passed  through  the  red  man's  breast.  He 
uttered  a  yell  and  fell  dead  at  the  same  instant  with  the  deer.  Mike 
re-loaded  his  rifle,  and  remained  some  minutes,  to  ascertain  whether 
there  were  any  more  enemies  at  hand.  He  then  stepped  up  to  the 
prostrate  savage,  and  having  satisfied  himself  that  life  was  extin- 
guished, turned  his  attention  to  the  buck,  and  took  from  the  carcass 
those  pieces  suited  to  the  process  of  jerking. 

In  the  meantime,  the  country  was  filling  up  with  a  white  population  : 
and  in  a  few  years  the  red  men,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  fractions 
of  tribes,  gradually  receded  to  the  lakes  and  beyond  the  Mississippi. 
The  corps  of  Scouts  was  abolished,  after  having  acquired  habits  that 
unfitted  them  for  the  pursuits  of  civilized  society.  Some  incorporated 
themselves  with  the  Indians ;  and  others  from  a  strong  attachment  to 
their  erratic  mode  of  life,  joined  the  boatmen,  then  just  becoming  a 
distinct  class.  Among  these  was  our  hero,  Mike  Fink,  whose  talents 
were  soon  developed ;  and  for  many  years  he  was  as  celebrated  on  the 
rivers  of  the  "West  as  he  had  been  in  the  woods. 

I  gave  to  my  fellow-travelers  the  substance  of  the  foregoing  narra- 
tion,   as   we   sat   on   deck  by  moonlight,  and  cut  swiftly  through  the 
maarnificent  sheet  of  water  between  Litart  and  the  Great  Kanawha.    It 
was  one  of  those  beautiful  nights,  which  permitted  everything   to   be 
seen  without  danger,  yet  created  a  certain  degree  of  illusion,  that  gives 
range  to  the  imagination.     The  outline  of  the  river  hills  lost  all  of  its 
harshness  ;  and  the  occasional  bark  of  the  house-dog  from  the  shore, 
and  the  distant  scream  of  the  solitary  loon  gave  increased  effect  to  the 
scene.     It-  was  altogether  so  delightful,  that  the   hours   till   morning 
flew   swiftly   by,    while  our  travelers  dwelt  with  rapture  on  the  sur- 
rounding scenery,  which  shifted  every  moment  like  capricious  changes 
of  the  Kaleidoscope — and  listening  to  tales  of  border  warfare,  as  they 
were  brought  to  mind  by  passing  the   places   where   they   happened. 
The  celebrated  hunter's  leap,  and  the  bloody  battle  of  Kanawha  were 
not  forgotten.     The  origin  of  the  name  of  the  former  to  this   point  is 
thus  given :  A  man  named  Huling,  was  hunting  on  the  hill  above  Point 
Pleasant,  when  he  was  discovered  by  a  party  of  Indians.     They  pur- 
sued him  to  a  precipice  of  more  than  sixty  feet,  over  which  he  sprang 
and  escaped.     The  next  morning,  visiting  the  spot  with  some  neigh- 


312  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

bors,  it  "was  discovered  that  he  had  leaped  over  the  top  of  a  sugar-tree, 
which  grew  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 

The  afternoon  of  the  next  day  brought  us  to  the  beautiful  city  of 
Cincinnati,  which  in  the  course  of  thirty  years  has  risen  from  a  village 
of  soldier  huts  to  a  town,  giving  promise  of  future  splendor  equal  to 
any  on  the  sea-board. 

Some  years  after  the  period  at  which  I  have  dated  my  visit  to  Cin- 
cinnati, business  called  me  to  New  Orleans.  On  board  of  the  steam- 
boat on  which  I  had  embarked  at  Louisville,  I  recognized  in  the  per- 
son of  the  pilot  one  of  those  men  who  had  formerly  been  a  patroon,  or 
keel-boat  captain.  I  entered  into  conversation  with  him  on  the  sub- 
ject of  his  former  associates. 

"They  are  scattered  in  all  directions,"  said  he,  "  .\  few,  who  had 
the  capacity,  have  become  pilots  of  steamboats.  Many  #aave  joined 
the  trading  parties  that  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  a  few  have 
settled  down  as  farmers." 

"What  has  become,"  I  asked,  "  of  my  old  acquaintance,  Mike  Fink?" 

"Mike,"  said  he,  with  a  sigh,  "ah!  Mike  was  at  last  killed  in  a 
skrimmage.  When  the  '  steam  craft'  began  to  usurp  control  of  the  river 
trade,  Mike  left — his  rights  were  intruded  on.  But  in  order  to  retain 
him  they  made  him  many  good  offers  on  board  of  the  steamboats.  It 
was  of  no  use.  He  said  he  hated  the  hissing  of  steam,  and  he  wanted 
room  to  throw  his  pole.  He  went  to  Missouri,  and  about  a  year  since 
was  shooting  the  tin  cup,  when  he  was  corned  too  heavy.  He  elevated 
too  low,  and  shot  his  companion  through  the  head,  A  friend  of  the 
deceased  who  was  present,  suspecting  foul  play,  shot  Mike  through 
the  heart  before  he  had  time  to  re-load  his  rifle." 

With  Mike  Fink  expired  the  spirit  of  the  boatmen. 

"  There  beneath  the  breezy  West 
Let  the  untutored  Hector  rest." 


OLD  PETER  CART  WRIGHT  AND  MIKE  FINK. 

The  following  anecdote  is  related  by  the  Rev.  James  B.  Fin- 
ley,  fellow-soldier  with  this  redoubtable  Methodist  minister  who 
is  said  to  have  come  off  conqueror  in  all  his  numerous  fights 
with  both  "  men  and  bears." 

At  a  camp-meeting  held  at  Alton  in  the  autumn  of  1833,  the  wor- 
shipers were  anncyed  by  a  set  of  desperadoes  from  St.  Louis,  under 
the  control  of  Mike  Fink,  a  notorious  bully,  the   triumphant   hero   of 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  313 

countless  fights,  in  none  of  wMch  he  ever  met  an  equal,  or  even  sec- 
ond. The  coarse,  drunken  rufl&ans  carried  it  with  a  high  hand,  out- 
raged the  men  and  insulted  the  women,  so  as  to  threaten  the  dissolu- 
tion of  all  pious  exercises  ;  and  yet  such  was  the  terror  the  name  of 
their  leader.  Fink,  inspired,  that  no  one  could  be  found  brave  enough 
to  face  his  prowess. 

At  last  one  day  when  Cartwright  ascended  the  pulpit  to  hold  forth, 
the  desperadoes,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  encampment,  raised  a  yell  so 
deafening  as  to  drown  utterly  every  other  sound.  The  preacher's  dark 
eyes  shot  lightning.  He  deposited  his  Bible,  drew  off  his  coat,  and  re- 
marked aloud : 

"  Wait  for  a  few  minutes,  my  brethren,  while  I  go  and  make  the 
devil  pray." 

He  then  proceeded  with  a  smile  on  his  lips  to  the  focus  of  the  tumult, 
and  addressed  the  chief  bully  : 

"  Mr.  Fink,  I  have  come  to  make  you  pray." 

The  desperado  rubbed  back  the  tangled  festoons  of  his  blood-red 
hair,  arched  his  huge  brows  with  a  comical  expression,  and  replied: 

"  By  golly,  I'd  like  to  see  you  do  it,  old  snorter !" 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright,  "will  these  gentlemen,  your 
courteous  friends,  agree  not  to  show  foul-play  ?" 

*'In  course  they  will.  They're  rale  grit,  and  wont  do  nothing  but 
the  clear  thing,  so  they  wont,"  rejoined  Fink  indignantly. 

"Are  you  ready  ?"  asked  the  preacher. 

"  Ready  as  a  race-hoss  with  a  light  rider,"  answered  Fink,  squaring 
his  ponderous  person  for  the  combat. 

The  bully  spoke  too  soon  ;  for  scarcely  had  the  words  left  his  lips 
when  Cartwright  made  ?.  prodigious  bound  toward  his  antagonist,  and 
accompanied  it  with  a  quick  shooting  punch  of  his  herculean  fist, 
which  fell  crushing  the  other's  chin,  and  hurried  him  to  the  earth  like 
lead.  Then  even  his  intoxicated  companions,  filled  with  involuntary 
admiration  at  the  feat,  gave  a  cheer.  But  Fink  was  up  in  a  moment, 
and  rushed  upon  his  enemy  exclaiming  : 

"  That  warn't  done  fair,  so  it  warn't." 

He  aimed  a  ferocious  stroke,  which  the  preacher  parried  off  with  his 
left  hand,  and,  grasping  his  throat  with  his  right,  crushed  him  down  as 
if  he  had  been  an  infant.  Fink  struggled,  squirmed  and  writhed  in 
the  dust,  but  all  to  no  purpose,  for  the  strong,  muscular  fingers  held 
his  windpipe,  as  in  the  jaws  of  an  iron  vice.  When  he  began  to  turn 
purple  in  the  face,  and  ceased  to  resist,  Mr.  Cartwright  slacked  his 
hold,  and  inquired, 

"Will  you  pray  now?" 


314  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

"  I  doesn't  know  a  word  how,"  gasped  Fink,  "because  you're  the 
d^vil  himself." 

The  preacher  then  said  over  the  Lord's  prayer  line  by  line,  and  the 
conquered  bully  responded  in  the  same  way,  when  the  victor  permitted 
him  to  rise.  At  the  consummation  the  rowdies  roared  three  boisterous 
cheers,  and  Fink  shook  Cartwright  by  the  hand,  exclaiming, 

"  By  golly  !  you're  some  beans  in  a  bar-fight.  I'd  rather  set  to  with 
an  old  he-bar  in  dog-days.  You  can  pass  this  crowd  of  nose-smashers, 
blast  your  pictur !" 

Afterwards  Fink's  party  behaved  with  decorum,  the  preacher  re- 
sumed his  Bible  and  pulpit." 

This  anecdote  is  undoubtedly  true,  only,  Mike  Fink's  hair, 
instead  of  being  '^  blood-red/'  was  as  black  as  the  wing  of  a 
raven  ;  and  years  before  the  event  of  this  story  transpired  he 
had  "  passed  that  bourne  whence  no  traveler  returns" — all  the 
rest  is  true. 


FAREWELL    TO    THE    SOUTH 

"  How  oft,  within  yon  pleasant  shade, 
Has  evening  closed  my  careless  eye  ; 

How  oft,  along  these  banks  I've  strayed, 
And  watched  the  wave  that  wandered  by  : 

Full  long  their  loss  shall  I  bewail ; 

Farewell  thou  beauteous,  sunny  vale. 

**  Good-bye  to  all !  to  friend  and  foe  ! 

Few  foes  I  leave  behind  : 
I  bid  to  all,  before  I  go, 

A  long  farewell,  and  kind. 

"  Here's  a  health  to  thee,  fair  South, 

In  a  parting  cup  of  wine; 
Farewell  to  thy  sunny  vales, 

'  Lend  of  the  myrtle  and  vine.'  " 

Pike. 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  315 

Spring  came  witli  many  new  bird-songs  and  "bokies/'     The 
summer  followed,  with  her  warm  sunny  months ;  and  then  came 
autumn — dreamy,  rich,  golden  and  glorious  autumn — which  we 
enjoyed  exceedingly  till  past  mid-October,  when  we  concluded  to 
return  home.     We  did  so  with  regret,  but  our  illness,  which  we 
thought  would   be  more  serious,  would  not,  on  the  subject  of 
staying,  be  compromised  with;  and  to  Dr.  Hanlin  of  Satartia, 
whose    kind  seiTices  were   given   to   me   for   over  two  week^s 
sickness,  free  of  charge,  and    to  Dr.  Leet  of  Yazoo  City  for 
his  gratuitous  and  generous  aid  in  sickness,  let  me  here  trace  a 
grateful  memory.     And  now,  courteous  reader,  we  are  to  take 
our   leave   of    you   and  the  sunny   South   at   the   same  time. 
You  have  followed  us  in  our  adventures  here,  and   sojourned 
with  us  in  this    pleasant   land ;    and  in    taking  our   leave    of 
you,  we  return  many,  very   many    thanks    for    the    favor   you 
have  shown  us  in  the    perusal  of    these  jottings.     Coleridge 
once  saw  a  volume  of  Thompson's  Seasons  lying  on  a  table   in 
a  wayside  Inn,  in  Wales,  and  remarked,  "  This  is  fame."     We 
are  not  eager  for  fame,  but  were  we  assured  that  the  reader  had 
been  interested  in  persuing  these   jottings,  we  should  be  half 
inclined  to  solace  ourselves  with  the  reflection — "  This  is  fame." 
But  are  you  going  to   take  your   leave  without  saying   a  word 
about  Slavery  ?  Why  not  give  us  a  protrait  of  it  South — as  you 
have  seen  it  South  ?     My  dear  friends,  once  on  a  time  xVpelles, 
the  celebrated   painter  of  Greece,    subjected  a  fine   portrait  to 
the   criticisms  of  the  people.    You  know  the  result ;  he  had  to 
withdraw  it,  or  the  critics  would  have  spoiled  it. 

But  in  bidding  this  sunny  land  farewell,  we  could  not  consider 
it  a  final  one.  We  felt  like  leaving  a  country  and  people  whom 
it  would  be  pleasant  to  visit  again.  There  is  so  much  nature 
South,  and  she  is  so  much  in  bloom,  and  in  her  smiling  summer 
time,  that  she  has  fairly  wooed  and  won  us.  No  where  have 
we  seen  so  little  winter,  and  no  where  have  we  heard  so  little 
o-rumblino;  about  the  weather  as  in  this  clime. 

The  reader  will  pardon  us,  if  we  scatter  a  few  ideas  from  the 
writings  of  a  celebrated  tourist  in  Italy,  among  those  of  our 
own,  about  this  Italy  of  ours.  With  the  exception  of  the  Indian 
summer,  and  here  and  there  through  the  spring  and  the  hot 
months,  there  is  no  weather  tempered  so  finely,  North,  that  one 
would  think  of  passing  the  day  in  merely  enjoying  it;  but  life 
is  spent  by  those  who  have  the  misfortune  to  be  idle  or  invalid, 
in  more  continual  dread  of  the  elements  than  here.  The  atmos- 
phere, at  the  North,  is  the  first  of  the    necessaries  of  life.     In 


316  JOTTINGS    OF  A   YEAR'S 

the  South,  it  is  more  the  first  of  its  luxuries.  You  breathe  with- 
out thinking  of  this  common  act,  but  as  a  means  of  arriving  at 
happiness.  Here,  to  breathe  and  to  walk  abroad  are  of  them- 
selves happiness.  Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  month  after 
month,  you  wake  with  the  breath  of  flowers  coming  in  at  your 
window,  to  look  out  upon  a  sky  of  serene  and  lovely  blue,  and 
mornings  and  evenings  of  heavenly  beauty.  The  few  rainy  and 
unpleasant  days  are  forgotton  in  the  long  halcyon  months  of  sun- 
shine. It  is  surely  the  country  for  the  idler  and  the  invalid — 
the  wholesome  fare  of  the  tables,  and  the  healthful  air  of  the 
houses,  are  a  specific  remedy  for  the  latter.  Then  it  is  delicious 
here  to  do  nothing; — delicious  to  stand  an  hour  and  let  the 
loveliness  of  the  weather,  and  the  charm  of  scenery  impress 
you.  It  is  delicious  to  sit  away  the  long  silent  noon  in  the  shade 
of  the  verandah,  or  China  trees ;  delicious  to  be  with  a  friend 
without  the  interchange  of  an  idea;  to  dabble  in  a  book,  or  to 
fall  into  one  of  those  delicious  fits,  "  like  dozes  in  sermon  time," 
and  no  where,  as  you  seek  your  couch  for  the  night,  is  it  so 
delicious  to  have  sleep  shed  its  poppies  over  you.  This  appears 
like  describing  a  Utopia.  But  it  is  what  the  South  seemed  to  us. 

Life  may  be  the  reverse  of  Monsieur  Jourdan's  talk — all 
poetry,  but  one  may  live  ignorant  of  it,  while  another  may 
enjoy  it  all,  if  not  alloyed  with  too  much  anxiety  and 
care.  Life  South  has  a  value  so  different  from  one  in  the 
colder  Northern  regions,  one  of  so  much  less  care  that  you  seem 
to  like  to  live  it  more,  and  there  is  no  more  need  of  your  being 
deprived  of  its  enjoyment  than  of  the  deliciousness  of  Southern 
peaches.  Often  have  I  thought  of  the  lovely  day  in  mid-October, 
when  I  bade  my  friends  in  the  Yazoo  valley  adieu — stepped  on 
board  the  steamer  "  Home,"  and  as  she  pushed  off  from  the  shore, 
bade  this  Southern  clime  farewell — leaving  one  of  the  happiest 
years  of  my  life  in  this  "  land  of  the  myrtle  and  vine,"  but  carrying 
home  with  me  the  most  pleasant  memories  of  its  beauteous  snowy 
vales  and  sunny  hills,  its  companionable  seasons,  its  lovely  skies 
and  Italian  sunsets. 

My  trip  home  is  too  uneventful  for  detail ;  it  would  be  merely 
reading  a  trip  down  the  Mississippi  turned  northward.  The 
perils  I  encountered  on  the  commencement  are  the  most  exciting 
part  of  it.  The  yellow  fever  was  not  only  raging  at  Vicksburgh, 
where  I  must  stop,  perhaps,  a  day  or  two,  in  order  to  get  a  Mis- 
sissippi steamer  that  might  have  it  aboard,  for  St.  Louis ;  but  it 
was  also  liable  to  be  on  any  of  the  Yazoo  steamers — and  the 
"  Home,"  the  one  I  did  take,  was  reputed  to  have  lost  recently 


SOJOURN   IN   THE   SOUTH.  317 

one  of  her  hands  by  this  disease.  In  our  present  illness,  we  not 
only  had  this  fear  of  disease,  but  an  anxiety  to  get  home  to  worry 
us.  A  day  and  night's  sail  down  the  Yazoo,  and  we  were  at 
Vicksburgh,  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Here,  of  course,  I 
was  to  "  belay  me"  till  a  steamer  bound  for  St.  Louis  came  along. 
In  the  event  that  none  did  come,  ere  the  "  Home"  left,  which 
was  at  noon,  I  was  to  go  back  with  her  a  few  miles  up  stream, 
rather  than  to  risk  my  life  by  exposing  it  to  this  terrible  disease, 
and  stop  with  some  planter  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi 
and  there  wait  till  I  could  hail  a  steamer  bound  for  St.  Louis. 
This  was  the  sate  advice  of  my  gentlemanly  and  worthy  friend. 

Captain  M ,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  kindness  and 

attention  he  has  shown  me,  and   also  to  his  very   gentlemanly 

clerk.     Captain  M is  a  Northerner,  and   while  we  send 

such  worthy  citizens  to  her,  the  South  cannot  hate  us  without 
some  noble  exceptions. 

His  excellent  steamer,  "  Home,"  is  the  favorite  of  the  Yazoo 
Valley.     But  as  soon  as  we   got  to   Vicksburgh,  imagine    me 
seated  on  the  hurricane  deck,  looking  down  the  "  Great  Father 
of  Waters"  that  swept  by  me  with  its  restless   current  on,  and 
onward  to  the  ocean,  for  a  steamboat  to    come  in   sight.     And 
then   again,  as  Ulysses  seated  on  a  commanding  point,  on  the 
Island  of  Ogygia,  looked  with  a  longing  desire  towards  his  dear 
Ithica,  and  thought  of  his  beloved  Penelope  and  Telemachus, 
imagine  me  gazing  up  the  Mississippi,  and  thinking  of  my  dear 
North,  and  the  loved  ones  at  home.     Thus,  for  two  hours,  I,  in 
pensive  musing,  sat  watching.     Now  and  then  I  would  look  up 
into  the  city,  and  think  how  many  of  those  beautiful  and  hap- 
py homes  were  mourning  the  loss  of  some   loved  one,  that  had 
fallen  a  victim,  in  all  the  joyousness  of  life,  to  the  dreadful  dis- 
ease now  raging  in  and  around  them.     Then  again  as  I  turned 
and  looked  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  the  Hoboken  of  Vicks- 
burgh, I  could  imagine,  just  beyond  those  clumps  of  trees,  par- 
ties  grouped  together,    listen  to   their  low  but  distinct  talking 
about  something  of  intense  interest — hear 

"That  strange,  quick  jar  upon  the  ear, 
The  cocking  of  the  pistol ." 

then  the  dreaded  word  given,  then  the  sharp  report;  and,  "ah, 
woeful  then,"  I  could  see,  had  I  not  closed  my  eyes,  but 

"My  eyes  make  pictures  when  they're  shut," 

and  the  scene  went  on,  despite  me,  to  its   tragic  end.     One   of 


318  JOTTINGS   OF   A   YEAR'S 

the  group  lay  dying  on  the  green  earth,  which  he  had  so  lately 
trod  in  all  the  glory  of  manhood.  The  rest  stood  in  mute  sorrow 
around  him.  As  I  turned  from  this  imaginary  scene  and  looked 
down  the  river  again,  a  small  white  cloud,  just  rising  above  the 
tops  of  the  trees,  among  which  the  river  wound  out  of  sight,  caught 
my  gaze.  Soon  I  could  see  white,  nodding  plumes  come  tossing 
up  in  sight,  and  then,  not  an  army  with  banners,  but  the  top  of  a 
steam-pipe,  then  another,  and  then  the  hulk  of  a  steamer  came 
puffing  round  a  bend  in  the  current — 

*'  Then  felt  I  as  some  watcher  of  the  skies, 

When  a  new  planet  swims  in  his  ken, 
Or  like  stout  Cortez,  when  with  eagle  eyes. 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific ." 

The  glass  was  brought,  and  she  was  pronounced  to  be  the  Wm. 
H.  Morrison.  My  trunks  were  got  ready,  and  I  was  soon,  with 
all  my  effects,  aboard  of  her,  and  introduced,  by  the  kindness  of 
Captain  M.,  to  her  officers.  I  found  her  to  be  equal  to  her  reputa- 
tion— the  elegant  steamer  "Wm.  H.  Morrison.  She  has  a  fine  set  of 
passengers,  many  of  whom  contributed  much  to  making  my  trip 
interesting.  She  was  gentlemanly  officered,  and  had  aj306-se 
comitatas  of  Irishmen,  who  made  wood  piles  on  the  banks,  cot- 
ton-bales, and  all  the  variety  of  freight  on  the  boat  and  wharf, 
disappear  with  an  Alladin  dispatch.  They  are  sad  looking  fel- 
lows, and  lead  a  sorry  life  of  it.  To  see  them  carry  wood 
aboard,  of  which  cords  without  number  are  "  toted"  up  a  nar- 
row plank — sometimes  so  steep  that  c  would  be  hazardous  for 
any  one  but  an  Irishman  to  walkuDuacumbered — one  thinks  of  the 
mules  packed  to  ascend  the  And*"  ,  only  the  former,  loading  him- 
self with  three  or  four  sticks  o  .our  feet  wood — trots,  instead  of 
walking,  up  the  steep  ascent,  t.-en  "  dumps"  his  load  in  a  running 
whirl,  and  scampers  down  auv/ther  plank  to  the  pile  again.  Their 
fare  is  like  their  work — hard.  They  sit  on  the  floor  and  eat ; 
each  has  a  mug  of  coffee,  then  in  the  center  is  a  dish  of  hard 
biscuit  and  beans.  This  is  their  usual  fore.  Night  and  day  they 
are  in  a  revolving  "  freight-chain,'^  loading  and  unloading  the 
steamer.  Now  and  then  they  catch  an  hour  which  they  appro- 
priate to  dozing,  on  cotton-bales,  or  stretched  out  at  length  on 
the  canvass  over  the  freight,  or  on  the  floor  of  the  fore-castle, 
and  in  a  few  moments  of  slumber,  forget  the  hard  toil  of  their 
lives. 

The  river,  in  many  places,  was  making  sad   havoc  with  the 
bank,  often  eating  under  so  that  the  trees  were  continually  falling 


SOJOURN   IN   THE    SOUTH.  319 

into  tlie  stream.  I  liave  seen  them  nearly  two  feet  through, 
standing;  erect  at  the  water's  ed2:e,  some  ten  or  fifteen  feet  below 
the  top  of  the  bank  where  they  grew.  These  trees,  embedded 
in  the  sand  in  the  river,  with  their  tops  swaying  up  and  down 
by  the  force  of  the  current,  are  called  "  sawyers. ^^  A  "  snag,"  is 
where  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  or  log,  thus  embedded,  leaves  part  of 
its  length  sticking  above  the  water.  A  "  tow  head''  is  an  island 
of  sand  in  the  current,  often  crowned  with  young  cotton- wood 
trees. 

"And  the  mighty  river,  hroTvn  with  clay  and  sand, 

Swept  in  curves  majestic  through  the  forest  land, 

And  stuck  into  its  bosom,  heaving  fair  and  large, 

Many  a  lowly  cypress  that  grew  upon  the  marge  ; 

Stumps,  and  trunks,  and  branches,  as  maids  might  stick  a  pin, 

To  vex  the  daring  fingers  that  seek  to  enter  in, 

0  ti'avelers  !  bold  travelers  !  that  roam  in  wild  unrest, 

Beware  the  pins  and  broaches  that  guard  this  river's  breast ; 

For  danger  ever  follows  the  captain  and  the  ship, 

Who  scoi'n  the  snags  and  sawyers  that  gem  the  Mississip." 

The  flood  had  subsided  and  left  the  water  in  the  river  just 
high  enough  to  secrete  the  sandbars  and  many  of  the  snags, 
making  it  more  difficult  for  the  pilot  to  find  the  true  current. 
Some  nights  we  laid  by  in  the  fog,  a  dense  one  usually  rests  on 
the  lower  Mississippi ;  but  on  moonlight  nights  we  sounded 
along,  while  the  ringing  of  the  alarum  bells  as  we  struck  a  sand- 
bar, that  brought  the  man  with  the  line  to  his  post;  and  his 
monotonous  drawl  of  "  five  feet  twain  !  quarter  less  twain  I" 
would  ever  and  anon  wake  us  from  our  slumbers,  or  steal  in  as 
a  part  of  the  fantasies  of  our  dreams.  Thus  struggling  over 
sandbars,  or  up  rushing  chutes,  or  stopping  at  a  town  or  wood- 
ing station,  we  eked  out  five  long  days  in  our  passage  to  Cairo. 
We  remember  getting  a  glimpse  of  Memphis  by  daylight,  through 
the  narrow  roads  cut  through  the  high  blujffs  on  which  it  is 
seated,  and  of  its  roofs  and  gables  over  the  bluffs.  New  Madrid 
is  a  little  Memphis.     We  staid  all  night  at  Cairo. 

"  Glad  to  see  it — glad  to  leave  it — glad  to  hurry  on." 

The  next  morning  we  in-car-cerated  ourself  aboard  the  Illinois 
Central  Railroad  train.  Then  ho !  for  a  drive  again  over  the 
heaven-wide  prairies  of  Illinois.  This  was  a  speedier  route  than 
by  St.  Louis.  We  caught  sight  of  Chicago,  about  noon  the  next 
day,  some  twelve  miles  off,  as  we  were  flying  to  it,  over  an  adja- 
cent prairie.  It  was  situated  on  a  higher  point  of  ground,  that 
sloped  down  towards  us.     We  had  seen  it  before  they  told  us  it 


:i 


820  JOTTINGS    OF   A   YEAR'S 

was  Chicago,  but  we  did  not  think  it  a  city,  or  any  place  of  hab- 
itation ;  we  could  think  ot  nothing  but  water  dashing  in  white 
foam  caps  among  dark  projecting  rocks.  Coming  nearer  to  this 
rapidly  growing,  new  place — we  write  of  the  part  we  saw  of  it — 
we  were  somewhat  surprised  to  see  so  decent,  and  even  neat 
looking  buildings,  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the  city.  Nowhere 
could  we  see  any  indications  of  poverty,  or  want.  The  ragged 
edge  of  the  city,  if  it  has  any,  must  certainly  be  on  the  other 
side.  Chicago  disappoints  one;  "it  has  opinions  of  its  own.'' 
You  may  have  heard  it  described,  but  you  find|  the  city  does  it 
much  the  best.  There  is  a  general  idea  that  the  lower  part  of 
the  city  is  muddy  because  low;  it  is  as  solid  as  granite.  It 
makes  no  difference  to  Chicago  what  St.  Louis  has  been,  and  is 
to  her;  but  it  may  to  St.  Louis,  what  Chicago  is  and  will  be  to 
her.     It  is  a  miracle  of  a  new  place. 

At  5  P.  M.  we  took  the  Michigan  Central  Railroad  train  for 
home.  Night  was  soon  upon  us.  But  here  are  those  splendid 
sleeping-cars.  Ila !  ha !  ha  !  they  have  achieved  it  at  last ! 
The  steamboat  state-room  is  left  behind !  You  can  ride  now 
over  the  land,  reposing  on  couches  of  Ottoman  ease.  Once 
more  in  Michigan ;  once  more  at  home ;  once  more  my  eyes  are 
glad  with  the  sight  of  our  beautiful  farm-land.  How  imperfect- 
ly a  late  tourist  has  recently  described  Michigan.  We  wouldn't 
give  her,  to-day,  for  his  "  prairie  Illinois,"  than  which,  he  avers, 
there  is  not  so  rich  a  portion  of  land  on  this  round  world.  Why, 
we  have  got  prairie  Illinois  scattered  all  over  Michigan,  besides 
the  rich  burr-oak  plains,  and  the  delightful  oak  openings,  that 
have  inspired  the  pen  of  the  great  American  novelist ;  and  the 
rich  farm-land  of  timbered  soil ;  and  her  marshes — those  natural 
meadows  so  luxuriant  in  grass ;  with  worlds  and  worlds  of  grand 
forests.  Then  think  of  the  surface  of  our  State,  beautifully  di- 
versified with  hill,  valley  and  plain ;  of  our  Arcadian  streams, 
Loch  Lomonds,  Goguacs  and  St.  Marys.  If  this,  because  pen- 
ned by  a  resident  of  Michigan,  seems  too  glowing,  take  the  fol- 
lowing from  a  stranger,  though  a  celebrated  writer,  author  and 
tourist :  "  Sometimes  you  would  come  out  suddenly  upon  little 
plains  of  sott  verdure,  broken  by  lovely  groups  of  oak  trees ; 
these  are  the  oak  openings,  and  riding  in  and  about  them,  is  like 
voyaging  in  a  pleasure-boat  among  a  thousand  fairy  isles.  This 
is  in  Michigan,  one  of  the  gardens  of  the  world." 

"Gentles,  my  tale  is  said."  ^^ 


t^