Hamor took with him on this visit, as an offering to the Indian chief, five strings of blue and white beads, two pieces of copper, five wooden combs, ten fishhooks, and a pair of knives. In return for these costly presents, this pious English gentleman asked Powhatan, who had already given Pocahontas to the whites, to send them another daughter, really as a hostage, but nominally as a wife to Sir Thomas Dale, the worthy governor of Virginia, regardless of the slight objection that there was already a Lady Dale in England. Pocahontas had good reason for saying to Smith when she met him in London, “Your countrymen will lie much.”
To the early settlers the savage seemed a strange being, not more than half human, whohappened to be in possession of the land they coveted. They thought they did God service when they flung to the Indian a Bible and a handful of beads, in exchange for the land which had been his birthright for centuries. They cheated and cajoled him when he was angry, as they might have wheedled an angry tiger; yet, strange to say, they were quite off their guard when, at length, the tiger made his spring, and glutted the vengeance he had been nursing so long.
When the news of the Indian massacre reached England, it roused a frenzy of revenge equal in fury to that of the savages. The Virginia Company quite forgot that they had set forth in their charter that the conversion of the Indians was one of the main objects of the new adventure, or if they remembered it at all, it was only to apologize lamely for a complete change of base. “We condemn their bodies,” they wrote to the colonists, “the saving of whose souls we have so zealously affected. Root them out from being any longer a people.... War perpetually without peace or truce: yet spare the young for servants” (the Englishman even in a rage has an eye to the main chance). “Starve them by destroying their corn, or reaping it for your own use! Pluck up their weirs! Obstruct their hunting! Employ foreign enemies against them at so much a head! Keep a band of yourown men continually upon them, to be paid by the colony, which is to have half of their captives and plunder!”
These short, nervous sentences fell like hammer-strokes on the ears of the Englishmen in America, and they found an echo in their hearts. It is easy for us to characterize their revengeful spirit as inconsistent and unchristian. It is easy to tolerate a bear in a menagerie, or an Indian on a reservation. It is quite another thing to exercise toleration toward either in the life-and-death grip of a frontier struggle.
These men had seen their homes go up in flames. They had heard the blood-curdling war-whoop. They had counted the bloody scalps hanging at the Indian’s belt, and marked on them the hair of those they loved. It was idle to preach toleration to them. Henceforward for many years it was war to the knife.
Yet, both as friend and foe, the Indian had given the colonists many lessons. He had taught them the culture of maize and tobacco, he had taught them to stalk the deer, to trap the bear, and to blaze the forest path. Many a lesson in woodcraft the settlers learned from him. Washington’s shrewdness in borrowing native methods of warfare, would, had his advice been taken, have saved Braddock’s army from utter routin the Western forests. The very enmity of the Indian was a help to the Colonial Cavalier, whose ease-loving temperament might easily have sunk into sloth had it not felt the spur of danger and the necessity for being on the alert. The docility of the negro was a perpetual temptation to the white man to the abuse of arbitrary power, but the resistance of the Indian was a constant reminder that here was a force unsubdued and unsubduable.
Of the influence of the white men on the Indian, the less said the better. They eradicated none of his vices, and they lent him many of their own. They found him abstinent, and they made him a guzzler of firewater. They found him hospitable, and they made him suspicious and vindictive. They found him in freedom, the owner of a great country; they robbed him of the one, and crowded him out of the other.
An old sachem in the eighteenth century, meeting a surveyor, said to him: “The French claim all the land on one side of the Ohio, the English claim all the land on the other side. Now, where does the Indian’s land lie?”
The savages exchanged their corn and tobacco for the rum-cask and the firearms of civilization, and a strange jumble of a new religion, whose ceremonies they grafted onto their own, with grotesque results. It is hard to say whether theyfared worst as the white man’s friends or foes. When the English made a treaty with the Chickahomanies, “a lustie and a daring people,” these were the terms offered them by the whites:
“First: They should for ever bee called Englishmen and bee true subjects to King James and his Deputies.“Secondly: Neither to kill nor detaine any of our men, nor cattell, but bring them home.“Thirdly: To bee alwaies ready to furnish us with three hundred men, against the Spaniards or any.“Fourthly: They shall not enter our townes, but send word they are new Englishmen.“Fifthly: That every fighting man, at the beginning of harvest shall bring to our store two bushels of corne for tribute, for which they shall receive so many hatchets.“Lastly: The eight chiefe men should see all this performed or receive the punishment themselves; for their diligence they should have a red coat, a copper chaine, and King James his picture, and be accounted his noblemen.”
“First: They should for ever bee called Englishmen and bee true subjects to King James and his Deputies.
“Secondly: Neither to kill nor detaine any of our men, nor cattell, but bring them home.
“Thirdly: To bee alwaies ready to furnish us with three hundred men, against the Spaniards or any.
“Fourthly: They shall not enter our townes, but send word they are new Englishmen.
“Fifthly: That every fighting man, at the beginning of harvest shall bring to our store two bushels of corne for tribute, for which they shall receive so many hatchets.
“Lastly: The eight chiefe men should see all this performed or receive the punishment themselves; for their diligence they should have a red coat, a copper chaine, and King James his picture, and be accounted his noblemen.”
This shameful bargain is recorded by the English with evident self-satisfaction, and apparently without a suspicion that they need blush for the transaction. Yet when the Indian met treacherywith treachery, and fraud with guile, the civilized settlers were ablaze with indignation for no better reason than that the savages had learned of them, and bettered their instructions.
His Amusements. ‘Let your Recreations Be Manful/not Sinful.’
Ofall the amusements of the Colonial Cavalier, none was so popular as gambling. The law strove in vain to break it up. This statute in the Colonial Record, tells its own story: “Against gaming at dice and cardes, be it ordained by this present assembly that the winners and loosers shall forfaicte ten shillings a man, one ten shillings thereof to go to the discoverer, and the rest to pious uses.” I fear very little was ever collected for pious uses. The difficulty lay in the fact that, as every one played, there was no one to act the spy.
This passion for gaming in the colonies was only a reflection of the craze in England. For more than a century after the return of Charles the Second, the rattle of the dice-box, and the shuffling of cards were the most familiar sounds in every London chocolate-house. Young sinners and old spent their fortunes, and misspent their lives, playing for money at Brooke’s or Boodle’s. When a man fell dead at the door of White’s, he wasdragged into the hall amid bets as to whether he were dead or alive, and the surgeon’s aid was violently opposed, on the ground of unfairness to those betting on the side of death. The Duke of St. Albans, at eighty, too blind to see the cards, went regularly to a gambling-house with an attendant. Lady Castlemaine lost twenty-five thousand pounds in one night’s play. General Braddock’s sister, having gamed away her fortune at Bath, finished the comedy by hanging herself. When her affectionate brother heard the news, he remarked jocularly, “Poor Fanny, I always thought she would play till she was forced to tuck herself up.”
I offer all this testimony to show that our Colonial Cavalier was only the child of his age, when he too shook the dice, and shuffled the cards. Being short of cash, his bets were generally made in tobacco, or, failing that, in flesh and blood. Many a slave found a new master in the morning, because his old master had been unlucky at play the night before.
In a community so absorbed in the excitement of hazard, the lottery of course took deep hold. The first plantation in America was aided by a grand “standing lottery,” with along list of “welcomes, prises and rewards,” amounting to more than ten thousand crowns. The declaration sets forth that“all prises, welcomes and rewards drawne wherever they dwell, shall of the treasurer have present pay, and whosoever under one name or poesie payeth three pound in ready money, shall receive six shillings and eight pence, or a silver spoone of that value at his choice.”
“The money for the Adventurers is to be paid to Sir Thomas Smith, Knight, and Treasurer forVirginia, or such officers as he shall appoint in City or Country, under the common seale of the company for the receit thereof.”
The example thus set, was followed whenever the colonies felt a pressure for money. In Virginia a lottery was established to meet the expenses of the French and Indian War—the drawing directed to be “in the Burgesses’ Room of the Capital at Williamsburgh at ten in the morning. Prizes current money from £5 to £2000. The lucky numbers to be published in theGazette.”
In Maryland, in the eighteenth century, a “Scheme of Lottery is humbly proposed to the Public for Raising the sum of 510 pounds, current money, to be applied towards completeing the Market-House in Baltimore-Town in Baltimore Co., buying two Fire-Engines and a parcel of Leather-Buckets for the use of the said Town, enlarging the present Public Wharf and Building a new one.”
If gambling was a favorite pastime and the lottery a popular excitement, the Cavalier was not a stranger to manlier sports. Of a brave and ardent temper, and a fine physique, he found at once his work and play in the hardy amusements of the chase. He had learned from the Indian to stalk the deer, walking stealthily behind his horse till a good chance offered to shoot close at hand, and lay the unsuspecting deer at his feet. Sometimes, in the bright October weather, the air would be blue with the smoke of the fires built to start the game. Now, in his heavy leather boots, he would start afoot after wild hare, or by the light of the moon, with a band of servants and dogs, he would hunt the ’possum and the coon. This habit of hunting was so universal that the Colonial Cavalier well merited the sarcasm ofThe Spectator, which described the English country gentleman as lying under the curse pronounced in the words of Goliath, “I will give thee to the fowls of the air and to the beasts of the field.” Hunting as a sport may not be spiritualizing, but it certainly is not brutalizing, and as much cannot be said for all the sports of that day, in the Southern colonies of America.
The cock-fight and the gouging-match never lacked as eager a throng of spectators, as gathers to-day at a football game; yet both were brutal and disgusting. They roused the amazement ofevery foreigner, that such things should be tolerated in a civilized country. The gouging-match was simply a fight of the lowest order. Not only were fists freely used, but the test of success was the ability of the stronger bully to gouge out the eye of his adversary. The under man could only save his sight by humiliating himself to cry out, “Kings Cruse!” or “Enough!”
Anbury, who witnessed several of these matches, says: “I have seen a fellow, reckoned a great adept in gouging, who constantly kept the nails of both his thumb and second finger long and pointed; nay, to prevent their breaking or splitting, he hardened them every evening in a candle.”
So familiar was this brutal practice that it supplied a Southern orator in after years with a rhetorical climax when, inciting his countrymen to make war on the mercantile interests of Great Britain, he exclaimed: “Commerce is the apple of England’s eye. There let us gouge her!”
The cock-fight was scarcely less degrading than the gouging-match. When a fight was announced, the news spread like lightning, and from all over the country people came thronging, some bringing cocks to be entered in the match, but all with money or tobacco to bet on the result. The scene was one of wild excitement. Men and boys cheered on their favorites, and watched withdelight, while the furious cocks thrust at each other with their long spurs of cruel steel.
It is pleasant to turn away from such scenes and sports as these, to read of theKnights of the Golden Horseshoeriding up into the wild fastnesses of the Blue Ridge Mountains with Governor Spotswood. It was a right knightly expedition, and one of the most picturesque in American history. They wound through the forest, and forded the rivers, and climbed rocky mountains, and took possession of peak after peak in the name of “His Majesty George the Third.” Their horses were shod with iron, which was not usual in those days, and on their return, Governor Spotswood presented each of the Cavaliers as a memento of the journey, with a tiny gold horse-shoe, set with jewels, and bearing the legend, “Sic juvat transcendere montes.” The thrifty old king disapproved of this extravagance, and left the Governor to pay for the mementoes out of his own pocket.
Riding on horseback was the chief recreation, as well as the chief mode of getting about, at the South. As the planters grew richer, they delighted to own fine horses and outfits. Washington’s letter-book contains an order sent to London for elaborate equipments: “1 man’s riding saddle, hogskin seat, large plated stirrups, double-reined bridle and Pelham bit plated. A very neat andfashionable Newmarket saddle-cloth. A large and best portmanteau, saddle, bridle and pillion, cloak-bag, and surcingle. A riding-frock of a handsome drab-coloured broadcloth with plain double gilt buttons. A riding waistcoat of superfine scarlet cloth and gold lace, with buttons like those of the coat. A blue surtout coat. A neat switch whip, silver cap. Black velvet cap for servant.”
Washington, as methodical in private affairs as in public, kept in his household books, a register of the names and ages of his horses and his dogs. Here we may read the entire family history ofAjaxandBlueskin,ValiantandMagnolia, or of the foxhoundsVulcan,Singer,Ringwood,Music, andTrue Love.
There was a peculiar intimacy between the foxhounds and their master, for they were associated with some of the happiest hours of his life, and when they came in from a field-day, torn by the briars through which they had struggled or limping from thorns in the foot, they were tenderly cared for, bandaged, and looked after. No amusement so delighted Washington as riding across country with Lord Fairfax in one of the hunts which that gentleman and sportsman was so fond of organizing at Greenaway Court. On a brisk yet soft autumn morning, through the blue Virginia haze,the gentry for miles around came to the “meet.” The huntsmen might be heard urging on the dogs with cries of “Yoicks! Yoicks! Have at him! Push him up!” till the fox, which had doubled on its tracks, round and round the thick covert, at length broke away, and the cry was raised of “Tally-ho! Gone away!” The huntsman blew his horn, the whipper-in cracked his whip, the hounds were in full cry, and the entire field of scarlet-coated riders broke in, in a mad gallop, through brush and briar. A strong fox will “live” before hounds on an average of an hour, but sometimes the hunt lasted all day, and covered thirty miles or more. The lessons of endurance, of woodcraft, and of hardy strength, which the Virginia gentlemen learned in these hunts, stood them in good stead in the life-and-death struggle on sterner fields.
A great lover of animals was Charles Lee, who was always surrounded by a troop of dogs, and who made himself somewhat unwelcome as a visitor, by insisting on bringing them into the house with him wherever he went. “I must have some object to embrace,” he once wrote to a friend. “When I can be convinced that men are as worthy objects as dogs, I shall transfer my benevolence, and become as staunch a philanthropist as the canting Addison affected to be.”
Apparently he never changed his mind, but diedstill devoted to his dogs and his horses. Men who loved horses, of course loved horse-racing as well. The Carolina Jockey Club was a famous institution. Its annual races drew crowds from the neighboring country, and the population gave itself up to several days’ festivity, ending in a ball. In Virginia, the sport was no less popular.The Gazetteof October, 1737, announces that “On St. Andrew’s Day, there are to be horse-races and several other Diversions for the entertainment of the Gentlemen and Ladies at the Old Field.” The programme of this entertainment recalls the days of Merrie England. Besides the race of twenty horses for a prize of five pounds, the advertisement gives notice:
“That a hat of the value of 20s. be cudgelled for, and that after the first challenge be made, the Drums are to beat every quarter of an hour for 3 challenges round the Ring, and none to play with their left hand.
“That a violin be played for by 20 Fiddles, no person to have the liberty of playing unless he bring his fiddle with him. After the prize is won, they are all to play together, and each a different tune, and to be treated by the company.
“That 12 Boys of 12 years of age do run 112 yds, for a hat of the cost of 12 shillings.
“That a flag be flying on said Day, 30 feet high.
“That a handsome entertainment be provided for the subscribers and their wives; and such of them as are not so happy as to have wives, may treat any other lady.
“That drums, trumpets and hautboys be provided to play at said entertainment.
“That after dinner the Royal Health, His Honor the Governor’s, etc., are to be drunk.
“That a Quire of Ballads be sung for, by a number of songsters, all of them to have liquor sufficient to clear their wind-pipes.
“That a pair of silver buckles be wrestled for, by a number of brisk young men.
“That a pair of handsome shoes be danced for.
“That a pair of handsome silk stockings, of one pistole value, be given to the handsomest young country maid that appears in the field—with many other whimsical and comical diversions too numerous to mention.
“And as this mirth is designed to be purely innocent and void of offense, all persons resorting there are desired to behave themselves with decency and sobriety.”
There is a delightful heartiness and simplicity about all this racing, and chasing, and dancing, and jigging, and fiddling. Folks had not learned to take their pleasure sadly. They still found clowns funny, and shouted with laughter over the effortsto climb greased poles and catch slippery pigs, and, above all, they delighted in the barbecue. At these great open-air feasts animals were roasted whole over enormous fires. Huge bowls of punch circled round the long tables spread under the trees, and when the feast was done the negroes gathered up the fragments and made merry, late into the night.
All the English holidays were observed in the Cavalier Colonies in addition to some local festivals. Eddis writes from Annapolis in old colony days: “Besides our regular assemblies, every mark of attention is paid to the patron saint of each parent dominion; and St. George, St. Andrew, St. Patrick, and St. David are celebrated with every partial mark of national attachment. General invitations are given, and the appearance is always numerous and splendid. The Americans on this part of the continent have likewise a saint, whose history, like those of the above venerable characters, is lost in sable uncertainty. The first of May is, however, set apart to the memory of SaintTamina(Tammany); on which occasion the natives wear a piece of a buck’s tail in their hats, or in some conspicuous situation. During the course of the evening, and generally in the midst of a dance, the company are interrupted by the sudden intrusion of a number of persons habitedlike Indians, who rush violently into the room, singing the war-song, giving the whoop, and dancing in the style of those people; after which ceremony, a collection is made, and they retire, well satisfied with their reception and entertainment.”
In addition to such festivities as these, the King’s birthnight was celebrated with illuminations and joy-fires, and Christmas in Maryland and Virginia recalled the gayety of the dear old home festival. The halls were filled with holly and mistletoe, which refuse to grow in the chill New England air, but may be gathered in the woods of Virginia as freely as in England; the yule log was kindled on the hospitable hearth, and the evening ended with a dance.
It was a dancing age. None were too old or too dignified to join in the pastime. We have it on the authority of General Greene that on one occasion Washington danced for three hours without once sitting down. Patrick Henry would close the doors of his office to betake himself to dancing or fiddling, and Jefferson dearly loved to rosin his bow for a merry jig. The story is told of him that once, when away from home, he received news of the burning of his father’s house. “Did you save any of my books?” he asked of the slave who brought him the tidings. “No, Massa,” answered the negro, “but we saved the fiddle!”
At the entertainments in the “Palace” at Williamsburg, the Governor himself opened the ball, with the most distinguished lady present, in the stately figures of the minuet. Afterward young and old joined in the livelier motions of theVirginia Reel. This dance, in spite of its name, did not spring from Virginia soil, but was adopted from an old English dance known as “The Hemp-Dressers,” whose figures represent the process of weaving, as its couples shoot from side to side, then over and under, like a shuttle, and finally unite, as the threads tighten and draw the cloth together.
The Governor’s palace did not absorb all the gayety of Williamsburg. Who has not heard of the Raleigh Tavern, with its leaden bust of Sir Walter, and its crowning glory of “The Apollo Room,” named doubtless for that famous “Apollo Room” in the “Devil’s Tavern,” Fleet Street, where Shakespeare and Jonson held their bouts of wit and wine?
If we could have crept up to the Raleigh Tavern some night, early in the last half of the last century, and peeped through the small-paned windows of “the Apollo,” we might have seen a party of gay collegians making merry with their sweethearts and friends. This tall youth, with sandy hair and gray eyes, is Tom Jefferson, who is offering hisawkward homage at the shrine of Miss ’Becca Burwell. Near them is Jefferson’s most intimate friend, Jack Page, dancing with his Nancy. Yonder, near the wide fireplace, between Sukey Potter and Betsy Moore, stands Ben Harrison, a mere boy still, though soon to enter the House of Burgesses, and over there in the corner, gravely surveying the dancers, is the uniformed figure of the young soldier, George Washington. Should we have read in these youthful faces a promise of the parts they were destined to play on the world’s stage? Probably no more than we should have foreseen this gay ballroom turned into the hall of a political assembly, where the first birth-cry of American freedom is heard.
We can get whatever impression we choose of Williamsburg and its society by selecting our authority judiciously. Burnaby, who visited it in 1759, describes it as a pleasant little town, with wooden houses straggling along unpaved streets; while Hugh Jones writes, thirty years earlier, that many good families live here “who dress after the same modes and behave themselves exactly as the Gentry in London.” “Most families of any note,” he adds, “have a coach, chariot, Berlin or chaise.”
The city, so he says, is well stocked with rich stores, and “at the Governor’s House upon Birthnights and at Balls and Assemblies, I have seen asfine an appearance, as good diversion, and as splendid entertainments in Governor Spotswood’s time as I have seen anywhere.”
When Governor Botetourt (pronounced after the English fashion,Bottatot) came over to Virginia, he took the oath of office here at Williamsburg, and rode in state in a great coach drawn by six milk-white horses. After the oath had been administered, a grand supper was given in his honor at the Raleigh Tavern.The Gazettegives a full account of the affair. An ode was sung, beginning:
“He comes! His Excellency comesTo cheer Virginia’s plains.Fill, your brisk bowls, ye loyal sons,And sing your loftiest strains!Be this your glory, this your boast,Lord Botetourt’s the favorite toast.Triumphant wreaths entwine!Fill your bumpers swiftly round,And make your spacious rooms resoundWith music, joy and wine!”
The air being ended, the recitative took up the strain of effusive compliment:
“Search every garden, strip the shrubby bowers,And strew his path with sweet autumnal flowers!Ye virgins, haste; prepare the fragrant roseAnd with triumphant laurels crown his brows!”
The virgins thus called forth, appeared from their “shrubby bowers,” bearing roses and laurel, and singing, as they advanced toward the hero of the evening:
“See, we’ve stripped each flowery bed—Here’s laurels for his lordly head,And while Virginia is his care,May he protect the virtuous fair!”
As I looked on Lord Botetourt’s statue, and marked its moss-covered figure and its fatuously smiling face, robbed of its nose by the stone of contempt, I remembered this festival, and mused on the vicissitudes of fame.
In the year 1752 a new delight was opened to the provincials. Hallam’s company of comedians came over inThe Charming Sallyto act for them. A playbill of that year announces that “at the new theatre in Annapolis by the company of comedians, on Monday next, being the sixth of this instant July, will be performedThe Busy Body, likewise a farce calledThe Lying Valet. To begin precisely at 7 o’clock. Tickets to be had at the printing-office. No persons to be admitted behind the scenes. Box seats 10s., pit 7s. 6d, gallery 5s.” A later bill announces that “children in laps will not be admitted.”
The favorite plays given by Hallam’s Company seem to have been—
“The Suspicious Husband,” “Othello,” “The Mock Doctor,” “Romeo and Juliet,” “The Devil To Pay,” “A Bold Stroke for a Wife,” and “Miss In Her Teens; or, A Medley of Lovers.”
Our squeamish age would find much to shock, and perhaps little to amuse, in many of those old plays. Congreve’s shameless muse set the pace, and the Nell Gwynns of the stage kept it. If we wonder that our ancestors could listen and look, will not our descendants wonder equally at us?
Before Hallam and his company came over to set up a professional standard, amateur theatricals were the rage. The VirginiaGazettein 1736 announces a performance of “The Beaux’ Stratagemby the gentlemen and ladies of this county,” and also that the students of the college are to giveThe Tragedy of Catoat the theatre. Somehow, Addison’s tragedies seem further removed from our sympathies than Congreve’s comedies, and we turn with relief to a form of amusement always in fashion and forever modern, the time-honored entertainment of feasting.
In 1744, a grand dinner was given by Governor Gooch to visiting statesmen at Annapolis. William Black, who was present, records in his journal that “Punch was served before dinner, which was sumptuous, with wines in great abundance, followed by strawberries and ice-cream, a greatrarity.” These public banquets were momentous affairs, demanding a sound digestion and a steady head in those guests who wished to live to dine another day. Chastellux gives a vivid account of their customs. “The dinner,” he writes, “is served in the American or, if you will, in the English fashion, consisting of two courses, one comprehending the entrées, the roast meat and the warm side-dishes; the other, the sweet pastry and confectionery. When this is removed, the cloth is taken off, and apples, nuts, and chestnuts are served. It is then that healths are drunk.” This custom of drinking healths, he finds pleasant enough, inasmuch as it serves to stimulate and prolong conversation. But he says, “I find it an absurd and truly barbarous practice, the first time you drink, and at the beginning of the dinner, to call out successively to each individual, to let him know you drink his health. The actor in this ridiculous comedy is sometimes ready to die with thirst, whilst he is obliged to inquire the names, or catch the eyes, of twenty-five or thirty persons.”
The woes of the diner and winer do not, it seems, end with this general call, for he is constantly called, and having his sleeve pulled, to attract his attention, now this way, now that. “These general and partial attacks end in downright duels. They call to you from one end of the table to theother: ‘Sir, will you permit me to drink a glass of wine with you?’”
Allowing for some exaggeration on the part of the lively Frenchman, it is easy to see what quantities of Madeira and “Phyall” must have been drunk in those tournaments of courtesy, and I do not wonder to read in the journal of a young woman of the eighteenth century: “The gentlemen are returned from dinner. Both tipsy!”
“The Tuesday Club,” of Maryland, had many a jovial supper together. Their toasts always began with “The Ladies,” followed by “The King’s Majesty,” and after that “The Deluge.” I find a suggestive regulation made by this club, that each member should bring his own sand-box, “to save the carpet.”
Parson Bacon sanctified these convivial meetings by his presence and was, by all accounts, the ringleader of the boisterous revels. Jonathan Boucher, another clergyman, but of a very different type, was a great clubman too. He was one of the leading spirits of “The Hommony Club,” whose avowed object was “to promote innocent mirth and ingenious humor.”
The days of women’s clubs were still in the far future, and the chief excitement of the ladies was an occasional ball. The Maryland assemblies began at six o’clock in the evening, and weresupposed to end at ten, though the young folks often coaxed and cajoled the authorities into later hours. Card parties were part of the entertainment, and whist was enlivened by playing for money. The supper was often furnished from the ladies’ kitchens and the gentlemen’s gamebags, and was a tempting one. The costumes were rich and imposing. A witness of one of these Maryland balls writes: “The gentlemen, dressed in short breeches, wore handsome knee-buckles, silk stockings, buckled pumps, etc. The ladies wore—God knows what; I don’t!”
Dancing and music were the chief branches of the eighteenth-century maiden’s education. I can fancy, as I read that “Patsy Custis and Milly Posey are gone to Colonel Mason’s to the dancing-school,” how they held up their full petticoats, and pointed out the toes of their red-heeled shoes, and dreamed of future conquests, although for one of them the tomb was already preparing its chill embrace.
For women, life in town was pleasant enough with its tea-drinkings, its afternoon visits, and its evening assemblies, but on the plantations far from neighbors time must often have hung heavy on their hands. Yet even there, pleasures could be found, or made. When evening shut down over the lonely manor-houses along the Chesapeake, themyrtleberry candles were lighted, the slender-legged mahogany tables drawn out, and the Colonial dames seated themselves to an evening of cards. Small stakes were played for to heighten the interest of “Triumph, Ruff and Honors,” “Gleke,” or “Quadrille;” and when these lost their charm, there was the spinet to turn to.
Spinet.
In those primitive days people still loved melody. “A little music” was called for with enthusiasm, and given without hesitation. There was no scientific criticism to be feared when the young men and maidens “raised a tune.” Their list ofsongs was not long; but familiarity lent a deeper charm than novelty. “Gaze not on Swans” was a favorite in the seventeenth century. “Push about the Brisk Bowl,” while well enough at the hunt supper table, was banished from the drawing-room in favor of “Beauty, Retire!” a song beginning—
“Beauty, retire! thou dost my pitty move;Believe my pitty and then trust my love.”
The writer does not make it quite clear why he wishes Beauty to retire, nor why she moves his pity. In fact, the case seems quite reversed in the last stanza:
“With niew and painfulle artsOf studied warr I breake the heartsOf half the world; and shee breakes mine;And shee, and shee, andsheebreakes mine!”
Through the lapse of more than one century, we hear the echo of those young voices, rising and falling in the air and counter of the quaint old melodies.
Oh, those shadowy corners of candle-lighted rooms, those spinets, those duos and trios, those ruffled squires and brocaded dames!—where are they now?
His Man-Servants and his Maid Servants. “Jove fixed it certain That whatever day Makes a man slave, Takes half his worth away”
A New Englandfarmhouse and a Southern plantation:—What a contrast the two presented in colonial days! In the homes of Massachusetts and Connecticut, the notable housewife was up before light, breaking the ice over the water, of a winter morning, preparing with her own hands the savory sausages and buckwheat cakes for the men’s breakfast, and setting the house in order. To her it fell to take charge of the wool from the back of the sheep till it reached the back of her boy; carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing the wool, cutting the cloth, and sewing the seams, scouring floors and washing dishes; all these duties fell to the share of the Puritan Priscillas. Yet, when evening fell, when the dishes were shelved on the dresser, thesebusy housewives, in their sanded kitchens, with the firelight reflected from their shining tins, were not to be pitied, even in comparison with their more luxuriously attended sisters in Maryland or Virginia.
Life at the South was at once grander and shabbier, than in New England. The Southerner’s ease-loving nature had the power to ignore detail; and it is attention to detail which brings well-being to the household and wrinkles to the housekeeper. A thousand slaves could not take the place of one woman of “faculty.” In fact, the more shiftless, lazy negroes there were, the less order and tidiness prevailed. But order and tidiness were not indispensable to happiness there and then, and the sum of human enjoyment was large on those old plantations, in spite of shiftlessness and slavery. Of that restless ambition which corrodes modern life, men had little, women had none, and servants less than none. The negro was a true child of the tropics, and with food and sunshine enough, was merry as the day is long.
A healthy negro, on a prosperous estate, under the charge of a gentleman, not under the bane of an overseer, came perhaps as near to animal cheerfulness as mortal often does. The master enjoyed that serenity and leisure which freedom from manual labor gives; his children grew up, eachwith a personal retainer attached to himself with the old feudal loyalty; the lady of the house was again the old Saxonhlaefdige, who gave out the bread to the tribe of servants day by day. Yet with all the brightness which can be thrown into the picture, slavery was a curse alike to slave and slave-owner, on account both of what it brought and what it took away.
It is strange to note how silently and unperceived the black cloud of slavery stole over the Colonial Cavalier. A casual entry in John Rolfe’s journal records: “About the last of August came in a dutch man of warre that sold vs twenty Negars.” Before the arrival of this fatal vessel life-servitude was unknown. The system of apprenticeship, and what would now be called contract labor, prevailed. These indented white servants were either transported convicts, sold for a season to the planters, or, like the Marylandredemptioners, poor immigrants, who contracted to serve for a period of time equivalent to the cost of their passage, which was prepaid to the master of the ship on which they came.
The work of these indented servants was not excessive. “Five dayes and a halfe in the summer,” said one who knew the situation from experience, “is the allotted time that they worke and, for two months, when the sun predominatesin the highest pitch of his heat, they claim an antient and customary Priviledge, to repose themselves three hours in the day, within the house. In Winter they do little but hunt and build fires.”
The Sot-Weed Factor gives a much less rose-colored account of the life of a redemptioner. A woman-servant in the poem, looking back on her life in England, exclaims:
“Not then a slave for twice two year,My cloathes were fashionably new,Nor were my shifts of linnen blue.But things are changed: Now at the HoeI daily work and Barefoot go,In weeding corn, or feeding SwineI spend my melancholy time.”
A “melancholy time” many of the redemptioners must have had in their enforced service; but if the master proved too severe, the indented servant had the privilege of selecting another, and the original employer was indemnified for his loss. Susan Frizell, who had run away from her master, was recaptured and brought before the court for punishment; but her accounts of ill-usage so moved the authorities, that they remitted the extra term of service to which running away had made her liable, and only demanded that she should earn under a new master the five hundredpounds of tobacco to be paid to her old employer. The bystanders were so touched by poor Susan’s pitiful situation that they collected six hundred pounds on the spot, and sent Susan on her way rejoicing, with a capital of one hundred pounds of tobacco to give her a new start in the world.
The law provided that the servant, when his time of service expired, should receive a portion of goods sufficient to make him an independent freeman, who might rise to be a councillor or an assemblyman. A Colonial statute directs that “at the end of said terme of service, the master or mistress of such servant shall give unto such man or maid-servant, 3 barrels, a hilling hoe and a felling axe; and to a man-servant, one new cloth suite, one new shirte, 1 new paire shoes, and a new Monmouth capp; and to a maid-servant, 1 new pettycoat and waistcoat, 1 new smock, 1 pair new shoes, 1 pair new stockings and the cloaths formerly belonging to the servant.”
The advantage of this system of indented service lay in its gradual absorption of the immigrant population, who thus had time to understand the laws and institutions of their new country before they became in their turn citizens and lawmakers. The disadvantage lay in the encouragement it gave to kidnapping. Many children and young people in the seaboard towns of England werebeguiled, or carried by force, on shipboard, to be sold as servants in the colonies. The kidnappers, or “spirits,” as they were commonly called, served as bugaboos in many an English nursery to frighten naughty children into obedience under threat of being spirited away to America.
Howells’ “State-Trials” contains a pitiful account of the experiences of a young nobleman sold as a white servant in Virginia through the plot of his covetous uncle, who wanted his property. The nephew is a mere child when he begins his apprenticeship in the provinces, but, by a series of attempts to escape, he prolongs his term of service till, when he finally succeeds in getting back to England to claim his own from the treacherous uncle, he is a man grown, and as difficult of recognition as the Tichborne claimant. The great majority of the first indented servants sent over, however, were convicts ripe for the jail or the gallows, and only respited to be transported to the colonies, which long suffered from the introduction of such a class of citizens.
The records of Middlesex County, England, tell their own story:
3 April, 15 James I.Stephen Rogers, for killing George Watkins against the form of Statute of the first year of King James, convicted of manslaughter, was sentenced to be hung, but at theinstance of Sir Thomas Smith, Kn’t, was reprieved in the interest of Virginia, because he was a carpenter.6 August, 16 James I.On his conviction of incorrigible vagabondage Ralph Rookes was reprieved at Sheriff Johnson’s order so that he should be sent to Virginia.28 April, 18 James I.On her conviction by a Jury of stealing divers goods of Mary Payne, Elizabeth Handsley was reprieved for Virginia.31 st May, 18 James I.On his conviction of stealing Richard Atkinson’s bull, William Hill asked for the book, and was respited, for Virginia.
3 April, 15 James I.
Stephen Rogers, for killing George Watkins against the form of Statute of the first year of King James, convicted of manslaughter, was sentenced to be hung, but at theinstance of Sir Thomas Smith, Kn’t, was reprieved in the interest of Virginia, because he was a carpenter.
6 August, 16 James I.
On his conviction of incorrigible vagabondage Ralph Rookes was reprieved at Sheriff Johnson’s order so that he should be sent to Virginia.
28 April, 18 James I.
On her conviction by a Jury of stealing divers goods of Mary Payne, Elizabeth Handsley was reprieved for Virginia.
31 st May, 18 James I.
On his conviction of stealing Richard Atkinson’s bull, William Hill asked for the book, and was respited, for Virginia.
The records teem with such cases. Yet these were not the only representatives of indented servants. In the course of the various successive political upheavals which shook England, it chanced that many gentlemen of good birth and breeding were driven over to the colonies, to begin life there at the foot of the ladder. After Monmouth’s Rebellion several hundred citizens, some of eminent standing, were sent to Virginia. “Take care,” wrote the king, “that they continue to serve for ten years at least, and that they be not permitted in any manner to redeem themselves by money or otherwise, until that term be fully expired.” Despite the royal warning, these exiles werepardoned before the term was ended, and became most useful and valuable citizens.
Well had it been for the Cavalier colonies had they adhered to this system of apprenticeship and indented service. Their children and their children’s children might then have sung of “the nobility of labor, the long pedigree of toil.” But with the widespread introduction of negro slavery, came the degradation of labor. The negro represented a despised caste. He labored; therefore labor was contemptible. Henceforth there was established an aristocracy of ease and wealth, resting on a foundation of unpaid labor.
With the establishment of slavery there grew up a more marked distinction of classes among the whites. A wide gulf separated rich and poor. Devereux Jarratt, son of a Virginia carpenter, writes in his autobiography: “We were accustomed to look upon gentlefolks as beings of a superior order. For my part, I was quite shy of them and kept off a humble distance. A periwig in those days was a distinguishing badge of gentlefolk; and when I saw a man riding the road with a wig on, it would so alarm my fears, and give me such a disagreeable feeling, that I dare say I would run as for my life.”
Thus society became stratified: At the top, the great landholders, below them the small plantersaping the manners and customs of their rich neighbors, and underneath, the population composed of poor whites and overseers. The negroes were no more part of the social system than the oxen they drove a-field.
It is a curious commentary on the Scriptural principle of turning the other cheek to the smiter, that the Indians, who resisted the encroachments of the whites and waved the tomahawk in response to the echo of the Englishman’s gun, were feared and respected, while the blacks, who yielded meekly to the yoke of servitude, met at best only a good-natured contempt.
The masters’ consciousness of the injustice of slavery made them fearful of revolt and revenge, which the slaves had neither skill nor energy to plan. The whole machinery of the law was directed to the suppression of this imaginary danger. All gatherings of slaves were strictly forbidden. If found at a distance from the plantations, any negro was subject to lashes on the bare back. It was not counted a felony to kill a slave while punishing him. Negroes, and indented servants as well, who attempted to escape were whipped and branded on the cheek with the letter R, and on a repetition of the offence they might be put to death. No punishment was too severe for this crime of running away, curiously denominated inthe old statutes “stealth of one’s self.” Among the enormous offences set forth in a Maryland Act of 1638 I find, “Harboring or clokeing of another’s servant without the knowledge and consent of the Master or Mistress.”
In spite of all precautions, a slave did succeed, now and then, in gaining his freedom. It is with great satisfaction that I read an old Act of Assembly, setting forth that “Whereas a negro named Billy, slave to John Tillit, has for several years unlawfully absented himself from his master’s service, said Billy is pronounced an outlaw, and a bounty of a thousand pounds of tobacco set on his head.” The bounty does not trouble me, for I feel sure that the craft and strength which made Billy an outlaw, kept him safe from the bolts aimed against him by the colonial legislature.
The statute-books of Maryland and Virginia are records of the barbarity into which injustice may drive a kindly, liberty-loving people who are forced into cruelty by the logic of events. Having taken the wrong road, like Bunyan’s Pilgrim, the Cavaliers found the rocks ready to fall on them if they went forward, and the gulf yawning behind them if they tried to turn back.
It must never be forgotten in their behalf that they did try to turn about, when they saw their error. Their best men, over and over again, urgedthe prohibiting of slavery, and there is more than a probability that they would have won their cause, but for the attitude of that country whose air was afterward pronounced too pure to be breathed by a slave insomuch that his shackles fell off, when he touched the shore sacred to liberty. Yet, in 1695, this highly moral and philanthropic England declared in a statute, the opinion of its king and Parliament, that the slave-trade was highly beneficial to the kingdom and colonies. In 1712, Queen Anne boasted in her speech to Parliament, of her success in securing to England a new market for slaves in Spanish America. Jefferson testified that Virginia was constantly balked in her efforts to throw off slavery by the attitude of the home government. Carolina attempted restriction and gained a rebuke. In 1775, the Earl of Dartmouth haughtily replied to a colonial agent, “We cannot allow the colonies to check, or discourage in any degree, a traffic so beneficial to the nation.”
Yet all the blame cannot be thrown on England. Had the colonies been as firm in defence of their duties, as they were when their rights were in question, England must have yielded. Virginia was the first State to enunciate the proposition of the equality of man, yet was blind to her own inconsistency. The leading supporters ofthe cause of liberty were themselves slave-owners. George Washington owned negroes. John Randolph had a bunk for his slave side by side with the bed of his pet horse. Patrick Henry wrote with admirable candor: “Believe me, I shall honor the Quakers for their noble efforts to abolish slavery; they are equally calculated to promote moral and political good. Would any one believe that I am master of slaves of my own purchase? I am drawn along by the general inconvenience of living without them. I will not—Icannot—justify it.” The great Southern statesman said that he trembled for his country when he remembered that God was just. Washington deplored the system, yet so closely were all commercial and political interests interwoven with it that it seemed impossible to disentangle them. Even philanthropy did not scorn its alliance. Whitefield expended the money raised by his eloquent preaching at Charleston, on a plantation with slaves to work it for the benefit of an orphan asylum.
The Church spread its surplice of protection over the institution. Baptism was permitted to the slave, but with the distinct understanding that it was to make no difference in the condition of bondage of these brothers in Christ. One South Carolina clergyman ventured to preach on theduties of masters to their servants, but his congregation said to him: “Sir, we pay you a genteel salary to read to us the prayers of the liturgy and to explain to us such parts of the Gospel as the rule of the Church directs, but we do not want you to teach us what to do with our blacks.”
The Northern colonies were freed from the curse of slaveholding as much by policy as by principle. They tried slave-owning, but, happily for them, it did not pay. The climate and the conditions of their industries forbade its spread among them. But their hands were not unstained. If they did not buy slaves, they sold them. There still exists, if Bishop Meade may be trusted, a bill of sale of a slave, bearing the signature of Jonathan Edwards.
Every year ships were fitted out from Medford, Salem, or New Bedford, which sailed away loaded with rum to be exchanged in Africa for negroes, who in turn were sold for molasses, to be made into rum again. The transactions of one of these slavers are preserved in the History of Medford, and makes interesting reading for those who would hold up the Puritan as innocent of the transgression which stains the character of the Cavalier. The deadly parallel column tells its story, so that he who runs may read:
The negroes thus brought to the American colonies were not of one race. A slaver often carried men of different languages, habits, and characteristics, perhaps hereditary enemies. Some were jet black, some mahogany-colored, and others still of a tawny yellow, with flat noses and projecting jaws. This last type belonged to the low, swampy ground at the Niger’s delta, and marked the race most adapted to the cultivation of the rice in its swamps, so fatal to white laborers. All this diversity among the negroes accounts for their lack of power and energy to combine in a struggle for freedom. “The negroes that have been slaves in their own country,” Hugh Jones says, “make the best servants; for they that have been kings and great men there, are generally lazy, haughty and obstinate.” Alas, for these poor magnates from Heathendom!
The Cavaliers did not find the problem of domestic service solved by life-ownership of servants. Colonel Fitzhugh writes Mr. John Buckner in 1680: “I hope you will make an abatement for your Dumb Negro that you sold me. Had she been a new Negro, I must have blamed my fate, not you; but one that you had two years, I must conclude you knew her qualities, which isbad at work, worse at talking. You took advantage of the softness of my messenger to quit your hands of her.”
In spite of this unsuccessful experiment, we find him two years later making another venture in human live-stock, by ordering John Withers to buy “Mr. Walton’s Boy for £20, or £54 with him and 2 others, unlesse you can make a better bargain.” Poor Colonel Fitzhugh might well be discouraged, for he had tried every kind of servant, black and white, bond and free, without satisfactory results. “I would have you,” he writes in despair to a sea captain in England, “bring me in a good housewife. I do not intend or mean to be brought in, as the ordinary servants are, but to pay her passage and agree to give her fifty shillings or three pounds a year during the space of five years, upon which terms, I suppose, good servants may be had, because they have their passage clear, and as much money as they can have there.I would have a good one or none.I lookupon the generality of wenches you bring in as not worth keeping.”
So the Colonial Cavaliers found trouble in their households with servants of any race or color, and the gentle nature of the blacks proving specially adaptable to servitude, and purchase money seeming so much less than wage-money, they gradually did away with other service. Every plantation had its negro-quarters, where crowds of pickaninnies swarmed in the sunshine outside the little cabins with scarcely more clothing on than their parents had worn in their African jungle. The bread of Indian corn was baked on the hoe over a smoky fire, or in the ashes. When the day’s work was done, the negroes sat, with their banjos or rude musical instruments, playing accompaniments to their strange, weird music, a mixture of reminiscences of barbarism and the hymns they caught from the “New Lights”; or they spent the evening more merrily, dancing jigs to the twanging of a broken fiddle. They were, on the whole, a careless, happy race, taking no thought for the morrow, content to accept food and clothing at the hands of “Massa and Missus,” and, for the rest, to work when they must, shirk when they could, and carry a merry heart through life. The outward circumstances of their lot were hard. Anbury, in his American travels, observed their conditionclosely and described it with what we must believe impartial accuracy. The life of these field-hands was much more severe than that of the household servants, both because the work itself was harder, and because it was ruled by the overseer, usually a brute. It is of these field negroes that Anbury is writing, when he says: “They are called up at daybreak, and seldom allowed to swallow a mouthful of hominy or hoecake, but are driven out into the field immediately, where they continue at hard labor without intermission till noon, when they go to their dinners and are seldom allowed an hour for that purpose. Their meals consist of hominy and salt, and if their master is a man of humanity, touched by the finer feelings of love and sensibility, he allows them twice a week a little fat, skimmed milk, rusty bacon or salt herring to relish this miserable and scanty fare.... After they have dined they return to labor in the field till dusk in the evening. Here one naturally imagines the daily labor of these poor creatures over; not so. They repair to the tobacco-houses, where each has a task ofstrippingallotted, which takes up some hours; or else they have such a quantity of Indian corn to husk, and if they neglect it, are tied up in the morning, and receive a number of lashes from those unfeeling monsters, the overseers. When they laythemselves down to rest, their comforts are equally miserable and limited, for they sleep on a bench, or on the ground with an old scanty blanket, which serves them at once for bed and covering. Their clothing is not less wretched, consisting of a shirt and trousers of coarse, thin, hard, hempen stuff in the Summer, with an addition of a very coarse woolen jacket, breeches, and shoes in Winter.” Yet, in spite of toil and privation, these negroes, so the traveller testifies, are jovial and contented.
It seems incomprehensible to us that the noble, sensitive, kindly Southern gentleman saw all these things in silence; that even when they had no share in the beating of the wayfarer, they still passed by on the other side with the priest or the Levite and offered no succor. Yet, do we not do the same thing every day? We know that the faces of the poor are ground while the rich prosper, that the animal world is abused and tortured, yet because we think ourselves powerless, we strive to make ourselves callous, and turn away our eyes that we may not see where we cannot help.
Many there were who had the courage as well as the impulse to protest. One of the firmest and the ablest of these was Jefferson. He had the insight to perceive not only the injustice to the slave, but the injury to the slaveholder. “There must, doubtless,” he writes, “be an unhappy influenceon the manners of our people by the existence of slavery among us. The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the most unremitting despotism on the one part, and degrading submission on the other. Our children see this and learn to imitate it, for man is an imitative animal. This quality is the germ of all education in him. From his cradle to his grave, he is learning to do what he sees others do. If a parent could find no motive either in his philanthropy or his self-love for restraining the intemperance of passion toward his slave, it should always be a sufficient one that his child is present. But generally it is not sufficient. The parent storms; the child looks on, catches the lineaments of wrath, puts on the same airs in the circle of smaller slaves, gives a loose to the worst of his passions; and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, cannot but be stamped by it with odious peculiarities. The man must be a prodigy who can retain his manners and morals undepraved by such circumstances.”
Yet we are constantly meeting such prodigies in the history of the Cavalier. Men whose pure lives, gentle manners, and courtesy to high and low, whose unselfishness and cheerful benignity may be matched against those of thehardest-working Puritan or the most radical upholder of the equal rights of man. The oldnoblesse obligeprinciple still held sway. Governor Gouch, of Virginia, being once on a time reproached for having returned the bow of a negro, replied in the good old Cavalier spirit: “I should be much ashamed that a negro should have better manners than I.” The field hands were kept at a distance, but the house-servants were admitted to the closest intimacy, especially when acting in the capacity of maids and nurses. Many a golden head was laid for comfort on the black breast of some faithful Mammy, while the childish sorrows were poured into her listening ear, and many a gray-haired woman recalled as her truest friend, the humble slave whose life had been devoted to her service.
An entry in Washington’s journal shows how well he understood the nature of the negro, and how wisely and firmly he dealt with it. One day four of his servants were employed at carpentering, but without accomplishing anything. Instead of scolding, Washington sat himself calmly down to watch their work. Stimulated by his presence, they went on briskly. The wise master noted the work and the time, and then informed them that just so much must be done in his absence. It was owing to such management that the products ofthe Mount Vernon plantation ranked so high that all barrels marked with the name of George Washington passed the inspectors without examination.
Here, if anywhere, was a man who might be trusted with arbitrary power over his fellow-men, yet he was one of the most outspoken in opposition to slavery; and he, like Jefferson, realized the terrible strain on the character of the master. Woe to the man who lives constantly with inferiors! He is doomed never to hear himself contradicted, never to be told unwelcome truth, never to sharpen his wits and learn to control his temper by argument with equals. The Colonial Cavaliers were little kings, and they proved the truth of the saying of the royal sage of Rome, that the most difficult of tasks is to lead life well in a palace.