A Girl's Life in Virginia before the War Part 13

The Indians have long ago been driven out, and it has been nearly a hundred years since the English yoke was broken!"

The history of our country, to our minds, was contained in two pictures on the walls of our house: "The Last Battle with the Indians," and "The Surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown."

No enemies within or without our borders, and peace established among us forever! Such was our belief. And we wondered that men should get together and talk their dry politics, seeing that General Was.h.i.+ngton and Thomas Jefferson--two of our Virginia plantation men--had established a government to last as long as the earth, and which could not be improved. Yet they _would_ talk, these politicians, around our parlor fire, where often our patience was exhausted hearing discussions, in which we could not take interest, about the Protective Tariff, the Bankrupt Law, the Distribution of Public Lands, the Resolutions of '98, the Missouri Compromise, and the Monroe Doctrine.

These topics seemed to afford them intense pleasure and satisfaction, for, as the "sparks fly upward," the thoughts of men turn to politics.

In 1859 we had a visit from two old friends of our family--a distinguished Southern Senator and the Secretary of War[18]--both accustomed to swaying mult.i.tudes by the power of their eloquence--which lost none of its force and charm in our little home circle. We listened with admiration as they discussed the political issues of the day--no longer a subject uninteresting or unintelligible to us, for every word was of vital importance. Their theme was, _The best means of protecting our plantation homes and firesides_. Even the smallest children now comprehended the greatest politicians.

[18] General Toombs and General Floyd.

Now came the full flow and tide of Southern eloquence--real soul-inspiring eloquence.

Many possessing this gift were in the habit of visiting us at that time; and all dwelt upon one theme--the secession of Virginia--with glowing words from hearts full of enthusiasm; all agreeing it was better for States, as well as individuals, to separate rather than quarrel or fight.

But there was one[19]--our oldest and best friend--who differed from these gentlemen; and his eloquence was gentle and effective. Unlike his friends, whose words, earnest and electric, overwhelmed all around, this gentleman's power was in his composure of manner without vehemence. His words were well selected without seeming to have been studied; each sentence was short, but contained a gem, like a solitaire diamond.

[19] Charles Mosby.

For several months this gentleman remained untouched by the fiery eloquence of his friends, like the Hebrew children in the burning furnace. Nothing affected him until one day the President of the United States demanded by telegraph fifty thousand Virginians to join an army against South Carolina. And then this gentleman felt convinced it was not the duty of Virginians to join an army against their friends.

About this time we had some very interesting letters from the Hon.

Edward Everett--who had been for several years a friend and agreeable correspondent--giving us his views on the subject, and very soon after this all communication between the North and South ceased, except through the blockade, for four long years.

And then came the long dark days--the days when the sun seemed to s.h.i.+ne no more; when the eyes of wives, mothers, and sisters were heavy with weeping; when men sat up late in the night studying military tactics; when grief-burdened hearts turned to G.o.d in prayer.

The intellectual gladiators who had discoursed eloquently of war around our fireside buckled their armor on and went forth to battle.

Band after band of brave-hearted, bright-faced youths from Southern plantation homes came to bleed and die on Virginia soil; and for four long years old Virginia was one great camping-ground, hospital, and battlefield. The roar of cannon and the clash of arms resounded over the land. The groans of the wounded and dying went up from hillside and valley. The hearts of women and children were sad and careworn.

But G.o.d, to whom we prayed, protected us in our plantation homes, where no white men or even boys remained, all having gone into the army. Only the negro slaves stayed with us, and these were encouraged by our enemies to rise and slay us; but G.o.d in his mercy willed otherwise. Although advised to burn our property and incited by the enemy to destroy their former owners, these negro slaves remained faithful, manifesting kindness, and in many instances protecting the white families and plantations during their masters' absence.

Oh! the long terrible nights pa.s.sed by these helpless women and children, the enemy encamped around them, the clash of swords heard against the doors and windows, the report of guns on the air which might be sending death to their loved ones!

But why try to describe the horrors of such nights? Who that has not experienced them can know how we felt? Who can imagine the heartsickness when, stealing to an upper window at midnight, we watched the fierce flames rising from some neighboring home, expecting our own to be destroyed by the enemy before daylight in the same way?

Such pictures, dark and fearful, were the only ones familiar to us in old Virginia those four dreadful years.

At last the end came--the end which seemed to us saddest of all. But G.o.d knoweth best. Though "through fiery trials" he had caused us to pa.s.s, he had not forsaken us. For was not his mercy signally shown in the failure of the enemy to incite our negro slaves to insurrection during the war? Through his mercy those who were expected to become our enemies remained our friends. And in our own home, surrounded by the enemy those terrible nights, our only guard was a faithful negro servant who slept in the house, and went out every hour to see if we were in immediate danger; while his mother--the kind old nurse--sat all night in a rocking-chair in our room, ready to help us. Had we not, then, amid all our sorrows, much to be thankful for?

Among such scenes one of the last pictures photographed on my memory was that of a negro boy who was very ill with typhoid fever in a cabin not far off, and who became greatly alarmed when a brisk firing, across our house, commenced between the contending armies. His first impulse--as it always had been in trouble--was to fly to his mistress for protection, and, jumping from his bed, his head bandaged with a white cloth, and looking like one just from the grave, he pa.s.sed through the firing as fast as he could, screaming: "O mistess, take kur o' me! Put me in yo' closet, and hide me from de Yankees!" He fell at the door exhausted. My mother had him brought in, and a bed was made for him in the library. She nursed him carefully, but he died in a day or two from fright and exhaustion.

Soon after this came the surrender at Appomattox, and negro slavery ended forever.

All was ruin around us,--tobacco factories burned down, sugar and cotton plantations destroyed. The negroes fled from these desolated places, crowded together in wretched shanties on the outskirts of towns and villages, and found themselves, for the first time in their lives, without enough to eat, and with no cla.s.s of people particularly interested about their food, health, or comfort. Rations were furnished them a short time by the United States government, with promises of money and land which were never fulfilled. Impoverished by the war, it was a relief to us no longer to have the responsibility of supporting them. This would, indeed, have been impossible in our starving condition.

Years have pa.s.sed, and the old homes have been long deserted where the scenes I have attempted to describe were enacted. The heads of the families lie buried in the old graveyards, while their descendants are scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific, always holding sacred in memory the dear old homes in Virginia.

The descendants of the negroes here portrayed,--where are they? It would take a long chapter, indeed, to tell of them. Many are crowded on the outskirts of the towns and villages North and South, in wretched thriftlessness and squalor, yet content and without ambition to alter their condition.

On the other hand, a good proportion of the race seek to improve their opportunities in schools and colleges, provided partly by the aid of Northern friends, but princ.i.p.ally from taxes paid by their former owners in spite of the impoverished condition of the South.

Many have acquired independent homes, with the laudable purpose of becoming useful and respected citizens. The majority, however, are best pleased with itineracy.

It is needless to say that those of the latter cla.s.s can never become desirable domestics in a well-ordered, cleanly house. And those whose youth has been pa.s.sed in schoolrooms, with no training in the habits of refined life, have not acquired sufficient education to avail much in the line of letters. Thus the problem of their race remains unsolved, even by those who know it most intimately.

In the matter of cla.s.sical education the question occurs: Will the literature of the one race meet the requirements of the other, or the heroes and heroines of one be acceptable to the other? Has not G.o.d given each country its distinct race and literature? The history of every country occupied by antagonistic races has been that the stronger has dominated or exterminated the other.

Thinking of the superficial education at some of our schools, I am reminded of a colored boy's subject for a composition.

Not long since a "colored scholar," seventeen years old, with very fair intelligence, who had never missed a day at the public school, was asked by a white gentleman who was much interested in the boy, and who often took the trouble to explain to him words in common use, the meaning of which the boy was wholly ignorant,--

"Peter, what lessons have you to-night?"

"Well, sir, I got a composition to write to-night."

"A composition? What's your subject?"

"Dey tell me, sir, to write a composition on de administration o' Mr.

Pierce."

"Administration of Mr. Pierce!" exclaimed the gentleman, himself an eminent journalist and statesman. "And what could you know about the administration of Mr. Pierce? Did you ever hear of Mr. Pierce?"

"No, sir, I nuvver has."

The tie which once bound the two races together is broken forever, and entire separation in churches and schools prevents mutual interest or intercourse.

Our church schools are doing much to elevate and improve the negroes, and we have to thank many kind, warm friends in the North for timely aid in missionary boxes, books, and Bibles to carry on the colored Sunday-school work in which many Southern people are deeply interested, without the means of conducting them as they wish.

The negroes still have a strange belief in what they call "tricking,"

and often the most intelligent, when sick, will say they have been "tricked," for which they have a regular treatment and "trick doctors"

among themselves. This "tricking" we cannot explain, and only know that when one negro became angry with another he would bury in front of his enemy's cabin door a bottle filled with pieces of snakes, spiders, bits of tadpole, and other curious substances; and the party expecting to be "tricked" would hang up an old horseshoe outside of his door to ward off the "evil spirits."

Since alienated from their former owners they are, as a general thing, more idle and improvident; and, unfortunately, the tendency of their political teaching has been to make them antagonistic to the better cla.s.s of white people, which renders it difficult for them to be properly instructed. That such animosity should exist toward those who could best understand and help them is to be deplored. For the true negro character cannot be fully comprehended or described but by those who, like ourselves, have always lived with them.

At present their lives are devoted to a religious excitement which demoralizes them, there seeming to be no connection between their religion and morals. In one of their Sabbath schools is a teacher who, although often arrested for stealing, continues to hold a high position in the church.

Their improvidence has pa.s.sed into a proverb, many being truly objects of charity; and whoever would now write a true tale of poverty and wretchedness may take for the hero "Old Uncle Tom without a cabin."

For "Uncle Tom" of the olden time, in his cabin, with a blazing log fire and plenty of corn bread, and the Uncle Tom of to-day, are pictures of very different individuals.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Reviewing these sketches of our early days, I feel that they are incomplete without a tribute to some of the teachers employed to instruct us. Even in colonial days our great-grandfathers had been sent to England to be educated, so that education was considered all-important in our family, especially with my father, who exerted his influence for public schools and advocated teaching the negroes to read and write, contending that this would increase their value as well as their intelligence.

Determining that my sister and myself should have proper educational advantages, he engaged, while we were young children, a most extraordinary woman to teach us--a Danish lady, better versed in many other languages than in our own. Her name was Henriquez, and her masculine appearance, mind, and manners were such as to strike terror into the hearts of youthful pupils. Having attended lectures at a college in Copenhagen with several female friends alike ambitious to receive a scientific education, Mme. Henriquez scorned feminine acquirements and acquaintances, never possessing, to my knowledge, a needle or thimble. Her conversation was largely confined to scientific subjects, and was with men whenever possible, rarely descending to anything in common with her own s.e.x. Sometimes in school our recitations would be interrupted by recollections of her early days in Copenhagen, and, instead of pursuing a lesson in geography or grammar, we would be entertained with some marvelous story about her father's palace, the marble stable for his cows, etc. In the midst of correcting a French or German exercise she would sometimes order a waiter of refreshments to be brought into the schoolroom and placed before her on a small table which had a history, being made, as she often related, from a tree in her father's palace grounds, around which the serfs danced on the day of their emanc.i.p.ation. She had a favorite dog named Odin which was allowed the privilege of the schoolroom, and any girl guilty of disrespect to Odin was in serious disgrace.