Chapter 4

“The Butler was apt to be severe, and was feared.”

They who lived it were a careless and pleasure-loving people; but, as in most rural communities, their festivities were free from dissipation. There was sometimes too great an indulgence on the part of young men in the State drink, the julep; but whether it was that it killed early, or that it was usually abandoned as the responsibilities of life increased, an elderly man of dissipated habits was almost unknown. They were fond of sport, and excelled in it, being generally fine riders, good shots, and skilled hunters. Love of horses was a race characteristic, and fine horsemanship was a thing little considered only because it was universal.

The life was gay. In addition to the perpetual round of ordinary entertainment, there was always on hand or in prospect some more formal festivity,—a club meeting, a fox-hunt, a party, a tournament, a wedding. Little excuse was needed to bring people together where every one was social, and where the great honor was to be the host.Scientific horse-racing was confined to the regular race-tracks, where the races were not dashes, but four-mile heats which tested speed and bottom alike. But good blood was common, and even a ride with a girl in an afternoon meant generally a dash along the level through the woods, where, truth to tell, Miss Atalanta was very apt to win. Occasionally there was even a dash from the church. The high-swung carriages, having received their precious loads of lily-fingered, pink-faced, laughing girls with teeth like pearls and eyes like stars, helped in by young men who would have thrown not only their cloaks but their hearts into the mud to keep those dainty feet from being soiled, would go ahead; and then, the restive saddle-horses being untied from the swinging limbs, the young gallants would mount, and, by an instinctive common impulse, starting all together, would make a dash to the first hill, on top of which the dust still lingered, a golden nimbus thrown from the wheels that rolled their goddesses.

The Lady and the Ox-Cart.

The chief sport, however, was fox-hunting. It was, in season, almost universal. Who that lived in that time does not remember the fox-hunts,—the eager chase after “grays” or “old reds”! The grays furnished more fun, the reds more excitement. The grays did not run so far, but usually kept near home, going in a circuit of six or eight miles. “An old red,” generally so called irrespective of age, as a tribute to his prowess, might lead the dogs all day, and end by losing them as evening fell, after taking them a dead stretch for thirty miles. The capture of a gray was what men boasted of; a chase after “an old red” was what they “yarned” about. Some old reds became historical characters, and were as well known and as much discussed in the counties they inhabited as the leaders of the bar or the crack speakers of the circuit. The wiles and guiles of eachveteran were the pride of his neighbors and hunters. Many of them had names. Gentlemen discussed them at their club dinners; lawyers told stories about them in the “Lawyers’ Rooms” at the court-houses; young men, while they waited for the preacher to get well into the service before going into church, bragged about them in the churchyards on Sundays. There was one such that I remember: he was known as “Nat Turner,” after the notorious leader of “Nat Turner’s Rebellion,” who remained in hiding for weeks after all his followers were taken.

Great frolics these hunts were; for there were the prettiest girls in the world in the country houses round about, and each young fellow was sure to have in his heart some brown or blue-eyed maiden to whom he had promised the brush, and to whom, with feigned indifference but with mantling cheek and beating heart, he would carry it if, as he counted on doing, he shouldwin it. Sometimes the girls came over themselves and rode, or more likely were already there visiting, and the beaux simply followed them by a law as immutable as that by which the result follows the premises in a mathematical proposition.

Even the boys had their lady-loves, and rode for them on the colts or mules: not the small girls of their own age (no “little girls” for them!). Their sweethearts were grown young ladies, with smiling eyes and silken hair and graceful mien, whom their grown cousins courted, and whom they with their boys’ hearts worshipped. Often a half-dozen were in love with one—always the prettiest one—and, with the generous spirit of boys in whom the selfish instinct has not yet awakened, agreed among themselves that they would all ride for her, and that whichever got the brush should present it on behalf of all.

What a gallant sight it was! The appearanceof the hunters on the far hill, in the evening, with their packs surrounding them! Who does not recall the excitement at the house; the arrival in the yard, with horns blowing, hounds baying, horses prancing, and girls laughing; the picture of the young ladies on the front portico with their arms round each other’s dainty waists,—the slender, pretty figures, the bright faces, the sparkling eyes, the gay laughter and musical voices, as with coquettish merriment they challenged the riders, demanding to blow the horns themselves or to ride some specially handsome horse next morning! The way, the challenge being accepted, they tripped down the steps,—some with little screams shrinking from the bounding dogs; one or two with stouter hearts, fixed upon higher game, bravely ignoring them and leaving their management to their masters, who at their approach sprang to the ground to meet them, hat in hand and the telltale blood mounting to their sunburned faces, handsome with the beauty and pride of youth!

An Old-fashioned Grist-Mill.

I am painfully aware of the inadequacy of my picture. But who could do justice to the truth!

It was owing to all these and some other characteristics that the life was what it was. It was on a charming key. It possessed an ampleness and generosity which were not splendid because they were too genuine and refined.

Hospitality had become a recognized race characteristic, and was practised as a matter of course. It was universal; it was spontaneous. It was one of the distinguishing features of the civilization; as much a part of the social life as any other of the domestic relations. Its generosity secured it a distinctive title. The exactions it entailed were engrossing. Its exercise occupied much of the time, and exhausted much of the means. The constant intercourse of the neighborhood, with its perpetualround of dinners, teas, and entertainments, was supplemented by visits of friends and relatives from other sections, who came with their families, their equipages, and personal servants, to spend a month or two, or as long a time as they pleased. A dinner invitation was not so designated. It was, with more exactitude, termed “spending the day.” On Sundays every one invited every one else from church, and there would be long lines of carriages passing in at the open gates.

It is a mystery how the house ever held the visitors. Only the mistress knew. Her resources were enormous. The rooms, with their low ceilings, were wide, and had a holding capacity which was simply astounding. The walls seemed to be made of india-rubber, so great was their stretching power. No one who came, whether friend or stranger, was ever turned away. If the beds were full—as when were they not!—pallets were put down on thefloor in the parlor or the garret for the younger members of the family, sometimes even the passages being utilized. Frequently at Christmas the master and mistress were compelled to resort to the same refuge.

It was this intercourse, following the intermarriage and class feeling of the old families, which made Virginians clannish, and caused a single distinguishable common strain of blood, however distant, to be recognized and counted as kinship.

Perhaps this universal entertainment might not now be considered elegant. Let us see.

It was based upon a sentiment as pure and unselfish as can animate the human mind,—upon kindness. It was easy, generous, and refined. The manners of entertainers and entertained alike were gentle, cordial, simple, with, to strangers, a slight trace of stateliness. The best the hosts had was given; no more was required.

The conversation was surprising; it was of the crops, the roads, history, literature, politics, mutual friends, including the entire field of neighborhood matters, related not as gossip, but as affairs of common interest, which every one knew or was expected and entitled to know.

Among the ladies, the fashions came in, of course, embracing particularly “patterns.”

Politics took the place of honor among the gentlemen, their range embracing not only State and national politics, but British as well, as to which they possessed astonishing knowledge, interest in English matters having been handed down from father to son as a class test. “My father’s” opinion was quoted as conclusive authority on this and all points, and in matters of great importance historically “my grandfather, sir,” was cited. The peculiarity of the whole was that it was cast on a high plane, and possessed a literaryflavor of a high order; for, as has been said, the classics, Latin and English, with a fair sprinkling of good old French authors, were in the bookcases, and were there not for show, but for companionship. There was nothing for show in that life; it was all genuine, real, true.

A Colonial Stove.

They had preserved the old customs that their fathers had brought with them from the mother country. The great fête of the people was Christmas. Spring had its special delights,—horse-back rides through the budding woods, with the birds singing; fishing parties down on the little rivers, with out-of-doors lunches and love-making; parties of various kinds from house tohouse. Summer had its pleasures,—handsome dinners, and teas with moonlight strolls and rides to follow; visits to or from relatives, or even to the White Sulphur Springs, called simply “the White.” The Fall had its pleasures. But all times and seasons paled and dimmed before the festive joys of Christmas. It had been handed down for generations; it belonged to the race. It had come over with their forefathers. It had a peculiar significance. It was a title. Religion had given it its benediction. It was the time to “Shout the glad tidings.” It was The Holidays. There were other holidays for the slaves, both of the school-room and the plantation, such as Easter and Whit-Monday but Christmas was distinctively “The Holidays.” Then the boys came home from school or college with their friends; the members of the family who had moved away returned; pretty cousins came for the festivities; the neighborhood grew merry. Thenegroes were all to have holiday, the house-servants taking turn and turn about, and the plantation, long before the time, made ready for Christmas cheer. It was by all the younger population looked back to half the year, looked forward to the other half. Time was measured by it: it was either so long “since Christmas,” or so long “before Christmas.” The affairs of the plantation were set in order against it. The corn was got in; the hogs were killed; the lard “tried;” sausage-meat made; mince-meat prepared; turkeys fattened, with “the big gobbler” specially devoted to the “Christmas dinner;” the servants’ winter clothes and new shoes stored away ready for distribution; and the plantation began to be ready to prepare for Christmas.

In the first place, there was generally a cold spell which froze up everything and enabled the ice-houses to be filled. (The seasons, like a good many otherthings, appear to have changed since that old time before the war.) This spell was the harbinger; and great fun it was at the ice-pond, where the big rafts of ice were floated along, with the boys on them. The rusty skates with their curled runners and stiff straps were gotten out, and maybe tried for a day. Then the stir began. The wagons all were put to hauling wood—hickory. Nothing but hickory now; other wood might do for other times. But at Christmas only hickory was used; and the wood-pile was heaped high with the logs; while to the ordinary wood-cutters “for the house” were added three, four, a half-dozen more, whose shining axes rang around the wood-pile all day long. With what a vim they cut, and how telling was that earnest “Ha’nh!” as they drove the ringing axes into the hard wood, sending the big white chips flying in all directions! It was always the envy of the boys, that simultaneous, ostentatious expulsion of thebreath, and they used to try vainly to imitate it.

In the midst of it all came the wagon or the ox-cart from “the depot,” with the big white boxes of Christmas things, the black driver feigning hypocritical indifference as he drove through the choppers to the storeroom. Then came the rush of all the cutters to help him unload; the jokes among themselves, as they pretended to strain in lifting, of what “master” or “mistis” was going to give them out of those boxes, uttered just loud enough to reach their master’s or mistress’s ears where they stood looking on, whilst the driver took due advantage of his temporary prestige to give many pompous cautions and directions.

The getting the evergreens and mistletoe was the sign that Christmas had come, was really here. There were the parlor and hall and dining-room to be “dressed,” and, above all, the old church. The last was the work of theneighborhood; all united in it, and it was one of the events of the year. Young men rode thirty and forty miles to “help”dress that church. They did not go home again till after Christmas.

The return from the church was the beginning of the festivities.

Then by “Christmas Eve’s eve” the wood was all cut and stacked high in the wood-house and on and under the back porticos, so as to be handy, and secure from the snow which was almost certain to come. It seems that Christmas was almost sure to bring it in old times; at least it is closely associated with it. The excitement increased; the boxes were unpacked, some of them openly, to the general delight; others with a mysterious secrecy which stimulated curiosity to its highest point and added immeasurably to the charm of the occasion. The kitchen filled up with assistants famed for special skill in particular branches of the cook’s art, who bustled about with glistening faces and shining teeth, proud of their elevation and eager to prove their merits and add to the general cheer.

Dressing the Church.

It was now Christmas Eve. From time to time the “hired out” servants came home from Richmond or other places where they had been hired or had hired out themselves, their terms having been by common custom framed, with due regard to their rights to the holiday, to expire in time for them to spend the Christmas at home.[2]There was much hilarity over their arrival, and they were welcomed like members of the family as, with their new winter clothes donned a little ahead of time, they came to pay “bespec’s to master and mistis.”

[2]The hiring contracts ran from New Year to Christmas.

Then the vehicles went off to the distant station for the visitors—the visitors and the boys. Oh the excitement of that! at first the drag of the long hours, and then the eager expectancy as the time approached for their return; the“making up” of the fires in the visitors’ rooms (of the big fires; there had been fires there all day “to air” them, but now they must be made up afresh); the hurrying backwards and forwards of the servants; the feverish impatience of every one, especially of the children, who are sure the train is “late” or that something has “happened,” and who run and look up towards the big gate every five minutes, notwithstanding the mammy’s oft-repeated caution that a “watch’ pot never b’iles.” There was one exception to the general excitement: the Mistress, calm, deliberate, unperturbed, moved about with her usual serene composure, her watchful eye seeing that everything was “ready.” Her orders had been given and her arrangements made days before, such was her system. The young ladies, having finished dressing the parlor and hall, had disappeared. Satisfied at last with their work, after innumerable final touches,every one of which was an undeniable improvement to that which had already appeared perfect, they had suddenly vanished—vanished as completely as a dream—to appear again later on at the parlor door, radiant visions of loveliness, or, maybe, if certain visitors unexpectedly arrived, to meet accidentally in the less embarrassing and safer precincts of the dimly lighted halls or passages. When they appeared, what a transformation had taken place! If they were bewitching before, now they were entrancing. The gay, laughing, saucy creature who had been dressing the parlors and hanging the mistletoe with many jests and parries of the half-veiled references was now a demure or stately maiden in all the dignity of a new gown and with all the graciousness of a young countess.

But this is after the carriages return. They have not yet arrived. They are late—they are always late—and it is dark before they come; the glow ofthe fires and candles shines out through the windows on the snow, often blackened by the shadows of little figures whose noses are pressed to the cold panes, which grow blurred with their warm breath. Meantime the carriages, piled outside and in, are slowly making their way homeward through the frozen roads, followed by the creaking wagon filled with trunks, on which are haply perched small muffled figures, whose places in the carriages are taken by unexpected guests. The drivers still keep up a running fire with their young masters, though they have long since been pumped dry as to every conceivable matter connected with “home,” in return for which they receive information as to school and college pranks.At last the “big gate” is reached; a half-frozen figure rolls out and runs to open it, flapping his arms in the darkness like some strange, uncanny bird; they pass through; the gleam of a light shines away off on a far hill. The shout goes up, “There she is; I see her!” The light is lost, but a little later appears again. It is the light in the mother’s chamber, the curtains of the windows of which have been left up intentionally, that the welcoming gleam may be seen afar off by her boys on the first hill—a blessed beacon shining from home and her mother’s heart.

“At last the ‘big gate’ is reached.”

Across the white fields the dark vehicles move, then toil up the house hill, filled with their eager occupants, who can scarce restrain themselves; approach the house, by this time glowing with lighted windows, and enter the yard just as the doors open and a swarm rushes out with joyful cries of, “Here they are!” “Yes, here we are!” comes in cheery answer, and one after another they roll or step out, according to age and dignity, and run up the steps, stamping their feet, the boys to be taken fast into motherly arms, and the visitors to be given warm handclasps and cordial welcomes.

Later on the children were got to bed, scarce able to keep in their pallets for excitement; the stockings were all hung up over the big fireplace; and the grown people grew gay in the crowded parlors. There was no splendor, nor show, nor style as it would be understood now. Had there been, it could not have been so charming. There were only profusion and sincerity, heartiness and gayety, cordiality and cheer, and withal genuineness and refinement.

Next morning the stir began before light. White-clad little figures stole about in the gloom, with bulging stockings clasped to their bosoms, opening doors, shouting “Christmas gift!” into dark rooms at sleeping elders, and then scurrying away like so many white mice, squeaking with delight, to rake open the embers and inspect their treasures. At prayers, “Shout the glad tidings” was sung by fresh young voices with due fervor.

How gay the scene was at breakfast! What pranks had been performed in the name of Santa Claus! Every foible had been played on. What lovely telltale blushes and glances and laughter greeted the confessions! The larger part of the day was spent in going to and coming from the beautifully dressed church, where the service was read, and the anthems and hymns were sung by every one, for every one was happy.

But, as in the beginning of things, “the evening and the morning were the first day.” Dinner was the great event. It was the test of the mistress and the cook, or, rather, the cooks; for the kitchen now was full of them. It is impossible to describe it. The old mahogany table, stretched diagonally across the dining-room, groaned; the big gobbler filled the place of honor; a great round of beef held the second place; an old ham, with every other dish that ingenuity, backed by longexperience, could devise, was at the side, and the shining sideboard, gleaming with glass, scarcely held the dessert. The butler and his assistants were supernaturally serious and slow, which bespoke plainly too frequent a recourse to the apple-toddy bowl; but under the stimulus of the mistress’s eye, they got through all right, and their slight unsteadiness was overlooked.

It was then that the fun began.

After dinner there were apple-toddy and egg-nog, as there had been before.

The Virginia Reel.

There were games and dances—country dances, the lancers and quadrilles. The top of the old piano was lifted up, and the infectious dancing-tunes rolled out under the flying fingers. Haply there was some demur on the part of the elder ladies, who were not quite sure that it was right; but it was overruled by the gentlemen, and the master in his frock coat and high collar started the ball by catching the prettiest girl by the hand and leading her to the head of the room right under the noses of half a dozen bashful lovers, calling to them meantime to “get their sweethearts and come along.” Round dancing was not yet introduced. It was regarded as an innovation, if nothing worse. It was held generally as highly improper, by some as “disgusting.” As to the german, why, had it been known, the very name would have been sufficient to damn it. Nothing foreign in that civilization! There was fun enough in the old-fashioned country dances, and the “Virginia reel” at the close. Whoever could not be satisfied with that was hard to please.

But it was not only in the “great house” that there was Christmas cheer. Every cabin was full of it, and in the wash-house or the carpenter-shop there was preparation for a plantation supper.

At this time, too, there were the negro parties, where the ladies and gentlemen went to look on, the supperhaving been superintended by the mistresses, and the tables being decorated by their own white hands. There was almost sure to bea negro weddingduring the holidays. The ceremony might be performed in the dining-room or in the hall by the master, or in one of the quarters by a colored preacher; but it was a gay occasion, and the dusky bride’s trousseau had been arranged by her young mistress, and the family was on hand to get fun out of the entertainment, and to recognize by their presence the solemnity of the tie.

Other weddings there were, too, sometimes following these Christmas gayeties, and sometimes occurring “just so,” because the girls were the loveliest in the world, and the men were lovers almost from their boyhood. How beautiful our mothers must have been in their youth to have been so beautiful in their age!

A Negro Wedding.

There were no long journeys for the young married folk in those times; the travelling was usually done before marriage. When a wedding took place, however, the entire neighborhood entertained the young couple.

Truly it was a charming life. There was a vast waste; but it was not loss. Every one had food, every one had raiment, every one had peace. There was not wealth in the base sense in which we know it and strive for it and trample down others for it now. But there was wealth in the good old sense in which the litany of our fathers used it. There was weal. There was the best of all wealth; there was content, and “a quiet mind is richer than a crown.”

We have gained something by the change. The South under her new conditions will in time grow rich, will wax fat; nevertheless we have lost much. How much only those who knew it can estimate; to them it was inestimable.

That the social life of the Old South had its faults I am far from denying. What civilization has not? But its virtues far outweighed them; its graces were never equalled. For all its faults, it was, I believe, the purest, sweetest life ever lived. It has been claimed that it was non-productive, that it fostered sterility. Only ignorance or folly could make the assertion. It largely contributed to produce this nation; it led its armies and its navies; it established this government so firmly that not even it could overthrow it; it opened up the great West; it added Louisiana and Texas, and more than trebled our territory; it christianized the negro race in a little over two centuries, impressed upon it regard for order, and gave it the only civilization it has ever possessed since the dawn of history. It has maintained the supremacy of the Caucasian race, upon which all civilization seems now to depend. It produced a people whose heroic fight against the forces of the world has enriched the annals of the human race,—a people whose fortitude in defeat has been even more splendid than their valor in war. It made men noble, gentle, and brave, and women tender and pure and true. It may have fallen short in material development in its narrower sense, but it abounded in spiritual development; it made the domestic virtues as common as light and air, and filled homes with purity and peace.

A Typical Negro Cabin.

It has passed from the earth, but it has left its benignant influence behind it to sweeten and sustain its children. The ivory palaces have been destroyed, but myrrh, aloes, and cassia still breathe amid their dismantled ruins.

Transcriber’s Notes:Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.Added missing captions to the illustrations on pages 12, 18, 26 and 27, from the List of Illustrations.

Transcriber’s Notes:

Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

Added missing captions to the illustrations on pages 12, 18, 26 and 27, from the List of Illustrations.

Back to Index Next