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THE SUNNY SOUTH; 
 
 THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME, 
 
 EMBRACING . 
 
 7 H 
 
 FIVE YEARS' EXPERIENCE OF A NORTHERN GOVERNESS 
 IN THE 
 
 LAND OF THE SUGAR AND THE COTTON. 
 
 EDITED BV/ 
 
 PROFESSOR J. H. INaRAHAM, 
 
 OP MissrssiPPi. 
 
 " Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime, 
 The fields are florid with unfading? prime; 
 From the bleak p >le no winds inclement blow, 
 Mold the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow; 
 Hut from tlie breezy dwp the land inhales 
 The fragrant murmurs of the western gales." 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 O. G. EYANS, PUBLISHER, 
 
 No. 439 CHESTNUT STREET. 
 1860. 
 

 9923 
 
 Entered according to tho Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 
 
 G. G. EVANS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of tho District Court for tho Eastern District of 
 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 r 
 
EDITORIAL LETTER TO THIS VOLUME. 
 
 To George G-. Evans, Esq. 
 
 Sir: — This manuscript of "Letters from the South/' 
 which I send you for j^^our perusal, has been, as you will see, 
 very carefully and plainly written out for the press, by a young 
 Governess of this State, who diffidently declines to give her 
 name in connection with the work. 
 
 It is true that the authorship of what has been composed 
 from materials mainly by another hand, cannot be wholly 
 claimed by either party : the work, therefore, if published by 
 you, must go unaccredited and upon its own intrinsic merits. 
 
 Thirty years' residence at the South, chiefly at Natchez, 
 Nashville, and Mobile, enables me to form, perhaps, a correct 
 estimate of the accuracy of a work professing to relate the 
 experiences of a stranger from the North, sojourning in the land 
 of " tobacco, cotton, and sugar." 
 
 The writer has chosen to give the materials collected from 
 experience and observation in the attractive form of fiimiliar 
 letters, addressed, by request, to an intelligent literary gentle- 
 man and editor the North. 
 
 While presenting accurate pictures of " homes in the Sunny 
 
 South," there is skillfully interwoven, an interesting narrative 
 
 embodying the most romantic features of Southern rural life 
 
 (3) 
 
4 EDITORIAL LETTER. 
 
 on the tobacco, cotton, and sugar estates: the three forms under 
 which true Southern Life presents itself. 
 
 The tone of the Book is strictly conservative and national; 
 presenting the impartial view which an intelligent, unprejudiced, 
 and highly cultivated Northern lady would take of the South, 
 her temporary and agreeable home ; and the presentation of 
 such a work, though neither profound nor political, (but adapted 
 for light, summer-perusal, when one covets .pacific and pleasant 
 reading,) at the present time, will, without doubt, be an accept- 
 able gift to the reading public ; especially, when hitherto so 
 much in relation to our people and institutions is misunderstood 
 and misinterpreted by those who have no personal knowledge 
 cither of Southerners or of Southern life. 
 
 This work has not been penned merely to meet any recent 
 events. The letters composing it were commenced seven years 
 ago, and leisurely produced in a period of three years, the last one 
 having been completed in 1856 ; and were not written with any 
 intention of ever taking a book form. Some of them appeared 
 in 1853-4, in the Saturday Courier, a popular paper once pub- 
 lished in your city, bearing the nom de plume of " Miss Kate 
 Conyngham." 
 
 In consenting to commend them to your attention, I feel 
 that I am contributing towards the publication of a work which 
 will render more familiar "' Southern Life at Home" to North- 
 ern minds, while its scenes, incidents, and characters will 
 agreeably interest the reader. 
 
 If the publication of this letter will be of any service to the 
 work, and contribute towards your favorable decision, I cheer- 
 fully give you permission to append it to the volume. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 J. H. Ingraham. 
 
 Rose Cottage, near Natchez^ Mississippi 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 As most of the Letters embraced in this volume were written 
 for the Editor of- the late American Courier, and appeared 
 therein, from time to time, the writer thereof has not seen fit 
 to alter the local allusions, the style of address in the Let- 
 ters, or the appellation of "Needles," by which they were 
 originally designated. As these Letters were commenced, and 
 many of them published before Mrs. Stowo's Uncle Tom was 
 written, its pictures of South-western life have no reference to 
 that work nor were influenced by it. These epistles are not 
 replies to any attacks on the South, but a simple representation 
 of Southern life, as viewed by an intelligent Northerner, whose 
 opinions are frankly and fearlessly given. 
 
 The object of this work is to do justice to the Southern 
 planter, and, at the same time, ajBford information in an agree- 
 able form to the Northerner ; and if these objects are obtained 
 in any degree, the writer, in consenting to its publication as a 
 volume, will be fully rewarded. One important fact ought not 
 to be overlooked, which is, that ninety-nine out of every hun- 
 dred of the governesses, tutors, professional men, and othej-.-. 
 who flock to the South, "ten thousand a j-ear," for the improve- 
 ment of their fortunes, remain, (the young ladies, if they can 
 obtain " Southern husbands/') and identify themselves fully with 
 the Southern Institution. 
 
 (5) 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 FAQS 
 
 Titles, how selected — Their value to a book — The difficulty of choos- 
 ing of a good title — " Dots and Lines" — Scissors and Needles — Fe- 
 male Authorship — Woman's pen-trinls — The Author's happiness — 
 Ambition to be in type 19 
 
 LETTER IL 
 
 A western home — Colo — Beautiful scenery — Cotton and tobacco fields- 
 Shelter — Mail coach — Lions — Doves and childhood — Negro quarters 
 The overseer's house — The Cumberhuul river 25 
 
 LETTER in. 
 
 The planter and his retinue — The African servant and his dog — The 
 hunters' departure — The slave girl, Eda — The numerous servants in 
 a southern house — The difference between the field and house slave.. 31 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 The hunters' return — The two strangers — The authoress' story — The 
 village and the widow — The brothers — The beautiful Ida — The mis- 
 chievous boy and minister's horse — Tiie authoress — The normal 
 soTiool — The private equipage — Col. Peyton and daughter — -The sur- 
 prise 37 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Touring among the mountains — Tlie letter — The struggle — The opposi- 
 tion — The little invalid scliolar — Tl>o parting at tlie school-house — 
 Sympathy — The tour west— Arrival in Nashville — The " Lodge" 45 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER Vr. 
 
 PAGS 
 
 Author's looks— Camel's hair pencils — The plantation hell — Waking 
 hours — The mint-julep— The luxury of a domestic — The breakfast 
 verandah — The dinner — The evening ride — The drawing-room — 
 Hours of retiring 50 
 
 LETTER VIL 
 
 Fox-hunting — Kate's courser— The young Tennessee hunters — The 
 separation — The master and his slaves — Reflections — The Peacock 
 and mule — The fight — A race, but not a fox-chase— The catastrophe. 66 
 
 LETTER VIIL 
 The morning start — The ravine and dogs — The negroes' invitation to 
 Reynard— The baying— The flight of the fox— The conflict and leap 
 — The entanglement — The veil and the death — Kate presented with 
 the brush 61 
 
 LETTER IX, 
 
 The rural chapel — The gray-haired pastor — The authoress attends 
 church — Group of Madonna and child — The singing of master and 
 slaves — The mistress and her servants — The ebony baptisms 66 
 
 , LETTER X. 
 
 Nashville — Its approaches — The Hermitage and tomb — The capitol — 
 President Polk — Fashion and gayety — Authors— Poets of the west 
 — French in newspapers — Candidate for authorship 71 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 Enlisted as contributor — Gratitude— The hopes and fears of authorship 
 — Love of poets for their verses — Love of self — Newspaper poetry — 
 What is immortality— The fame of the year A.M. 6,000 77 
 
 LETTER XIL 
 
 The invitation— The intelligence of the horse — Nineveh — The nobility 
 of man — The scenery of the woods — Squirrels — The old negro and 
 culprit — Charms — The Indian hunter — The story of the old warrior 
 — The hospitable planter — Kate pays toll 83 
 
 LETTER XIIL 
 
 The good and true — Kate's bravery doubted— The old mansion — Di 
 Vernon rivalled — Hospitality in silver goblets— The portrait and 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 PAGS 
 
 character of Jackson — His mercy — The deserter — War-relics — The 
 major's war-horse — The deer-stands — Military posting — The deer in 
 sight— Perils— The shot 91 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 The pet fawn — Buck and wolf — The uproar in the kennel — The canine 
 epicures and Mam' Daphney — Old George and his fiddle — A slave 
 village by moonlight — True music — Young Africa — Corn dance — 
 Riding a bull for a wager— Songs of the people 102 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 The scenery about the lodge — The Polks— The "needles" in danger — 
 The bloodhound — A rescue and the dirk — Aunt Phillisy — The aged 
 African — Care of southerners for the old slaves — Conversation with 
 Cusha — Comparison between the Indian and African— Female politi- 
 cians and patriotism — Clay and Webster 112 
 
 LETTER XVL 
 
 Kmerson and his thoughts — Female writers — The colonel reads no book 
 written by a lady — Shirley — Goldsmith — Shakspeare — Fame and 
 Tom Moore — Opening an Indian mound — Discovery of idols — Ge- 
 ology en amateur — Thunderbolts — A lover's quarrel — All owing to 
 a prescription — A story proposed 121 
 
 LETTER XVIL 
 
 The Nashville convention — The site of the city — Two South Carolini- 
 ans — An old Roman — The party attend convention — Politeness iu 
 public assemblies — Madame de Stael upon honor and duty — South 
 Carolina orators — The handsome mayor — Speeches of Virginia dele- 
 gation— Hon. Wm. Colqaitt— General Pillow— W. H. Polk— Self- 
 laudation — Adjournment of convention — Thanks to the ladies — A 
 gift from South Carolina 129 
 
 LETTER XVIIL 
 
 A mysterious letter — Not a declaration — The fame of the authoress at 
 a premium — Invitation to write — A tale proposed — The master and 
 slave — An African wedding — Brilliant costumes — The supper — Ethi- 
 opian gentility — The sea-captain — New Africa ignores Old Africa — 
 The captain rides 142 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 PASS 
 
 The authoress writes a tale — A word to editors — Isabel and the Avounded 
 soldier — A noble reply — Orthograplsy and warm hearts — An adven- 
 ture with a Bengal tiger — The perilous situation of the ladies — The 
 power of music over brutes — The rescue — The death — Birds, and 
 monkeys, and little negroes 150 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 Fishing — Costume for the woods — Isabel in becoming attire — Men's 
 hats and women — The pic-nic-basket — A betrayal of red sealing-wax 
 — A merry party — The captain's craft — Towing into port — Cooing — 
 The forest brook — The lovers — Lessons in fishing — The dinner in the 
 forest — Old Hickory's memory 159 
 
 LETTER XXL 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson — His philosophy — A critique — Where his- phi- 
 losophy is defective — School for young statesmen — College for diplo- 
 mats at Washington — Foreign ministers to be able to speak foreign 
 languages — Dickens and his books — Mrs. Fanny Osgood and her 
 pen 1C9 
 
 LETTER XXn. 
 
 No more book — Proposed departure to the Springs — The carriage and 
 how it was stowed — The cavalcade, not omitting Dickon and his boots 
 — The led horse and beautiful mule — Mules aristocratic animals — 
 Negroes' admiration for new shoes — Gentlemen's hats — A suggestion 
 to promote conversation in the parlor — An expression of thanks in a 
 P.S 174 
 
 LETTER XXIIL 
 
 The secret — Visit to Columbia — The birth-place and mother of a presi- 
 dent — The Gothic institute — The professor and his halls — The curi- 
 osity of a bevy of girls — A lioness — The unlucky poet — Kate's in- 
 dignation — The colonel's surprise — The punishment — The forgiveness 
 — The dreaded poem 186 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 The Eden of Tennessee — The editor's excursion — Duck river, or, what 
 is in a name ? — A beautiful villa and grounds — Bishop Otey at his 
 home — Reflections upon death —Beautiful scenery — The art of smok« 
 ing — A few feminine suggestions and criticisms on smoking cigars... 194 
 
CONTENTS. 11 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 A watering place— Its tedium— The last resort— Description of the 
 place— Noon-day scenes-Tlie fit<hiug lawyer and bis horse— The fat 
 gentleman and his catastrophe— An ahirui— General waking up— 
 Dinner-bell— The bonhoraraie of the slave— Unbroken forest— An 
 Ethiopian dinner — Night and its sounds 
 
 200 
 
 LETTER XXVL 
 
 Tlie hoar and pen for writing— The return home— The village of Mou-nt 
 Pleasant— Ken Hill and scholarly men— Donald M'Leod— The ne- 
 glect of education— Count Meolis— Bonbons— The delights of home 
 —Keep moving— A proposed trip to New Orleans— The power of 
 song — Jenny Lind ^^^ 212 
 
 LETTER XXVIL 
 
 The novelty of south-western life — An enumeration of objects of in- 
 
 • terest— The young southerner— The fair maiden of the sunny south 
 
 — Run-a-way matches — Sargent's song — Bats in the room — Terror 
 
 of young ladies— The battle and victory— The colonel lectures on 
 
 bats — They devour rausquitoes, not maidens 222 
 
 LETTER XXVIIL 
 
 The baggage— Parting at the park— Pets— The mystery of brute life- 
 Scenery — Arrival at the steamer— The noble America— The beauty 
 of the verandahs— Elegance and luxury— The promenade— State- 
 rooms — Departure of the boat — The last bell 233 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 The beauty of the Ohio— The pirates' cave- The river robbers— The 
 good old keel-boat times— Life on the river fifty years ago — The grave 
 
 beneath the sycamore— The old pilot's story— The assassination 
 
 Revelations of the future— The exquisite and his hat— The deserters 
 shot — The pilot house — Father of waters 2-11 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 Entrance into the Mississippi- Meeting of the waters— The dark river 
 —The dangers of the Mississippi— Beautiful sun-set- Chain of lakes 
 Night on the Avater— The woodmen's fires— The captain's story- 
 Signal fires and the ruse— Earthquakes— The bear and alarm 251 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 PA&B 
 
 The city of Natchez — Its elegance — The beauty of its suburbs — Its 
 polished people — The mngnoliiis — Drive from town — A superb villa 
 — Visit a charming garden — A lovely prospect — Southern flowers — 
 The night-blooming cereus — Tlie grave of *' good old Peter" — Reflec- 
 tions upon " faithful servants" 259 
 
 LETTER XXXIL 
 
 The old family — The position of governesses in the south — Of tutors — 
 The evil of northern interference with the south — The meeting of 
 Kate with a friend — The education of southern boys — The dead shot 
 — The Indian chief and Sharp's rifle — The Indian grave and the 
 Christian chapel — Subject for a poem 267 
 
 LETTER XXXIIL 
 
 Lost needles — The old parson — The carefully entrusted package — Let- 
 ter from the editor naming the loss — Reflections upon missing MSS 
 — Two parcels lost — Value of manuscripts to authors — *' To be pre- 
 served" 276 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 In Louisiana — Letters from the prairies — Narrative resumed — The 
 steamer in sight — Fort Rosalie — Go on board — Waving of kerchiefs 
 — The fawn's leap — Opulence spoils authors — The elegant steamer — 
 The mysterious passenger 283 
 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 Interior of a packet — The fine old southern gentleman — Happy world 
 — Wandering pen — The interesting invalid — Superb piano performance 
 of a stranger — Operatic stars— Not Jenny Lind — Who is she? — Mu- 
 sical genius of southern women — Biscaccianti — Parodi— Letters from 
 Louisiana 289 
 
 LETTER XXXVL 
 
 The lower Mississippi — Scenery on the shores — A vast cotton field — 
 Wealth of cotton-planters — The wny to get rich — Baton Rouge — 
 The home of General Taylor — Old Whitey — Ladies of Baton Rouge 
 — Members of the legislature — Voyage resumed 296 
 
 LETTER XXXVIL 
 
 The old pilot — The red pole — A corsair of Louisiana — The old times of 
 river buccaneers — A hint for a story writer — The pirate's death — The 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 13 
 
 PAGB 
 
 governor's bride— A bit of roiniince— Senator Benjamin— His ap- 
 pearance—Discussion and talent— The intellect of the Jews— Their 
 ambition— President of the United States .—' 302 
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 The sugar estate— Chateau and quartier— Sucrerie— Cost of opening a 
 sugar estate— An enchanting scene— Signal fires— The two convents 
 —Education of girls therein— Dame Ursula and her legends— The 
 influence of convents over the minds of pupils— Romanism— Prayers 
 and pedes ^^^ 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 Descendants of the French in Louisiana— View from a balcony— Pass- 
 ing steamers-Sugar fields— A Louisianian chateau— The slave village 
 —Sugar house— M. de Clery's son— A secret— Proposed visit to New 
 Orleans — An engagement — Lovers to be chosen for their good 
 temper. ^^^ 
 
 LETTER XL. 
 
 Music by night — Isabel — Musquito-bars— The carriage road— The 
 levee— Danger of the dwellers on the " coast"— What a crevasse is 
 
 How it begins and is stopped— The authoress guardian over a lover 
 
 —The midnight tocsin— A conflagration— A prayer for those in 
 danger ^22 
 
 LETTER XLL 
 
 First impressions of a city— The foreign aspect of New Orleans— The 
 Indian war-whoop — The conductor and the old lords of the soil— The 
 poodle-dog— The Frenchman and his bird— The cake — The conversa- 
 tion with the prisoner in the cage— The grandpa meets his family — 
 The joy of the household- The escapade— The consternation and pur- 
 suit, 
 
 LETTER XLIL 
 
 Approach to the city— Gardens and villas— Arrival at the depot— An 
 Irish hackraan— Chinaman with kites— Handsome bouquet seller— 
 The parrot man— Isidore buys a bouquet— The drive to the St. Louis 
 -Its palace-like accommodations 334 
 
 328 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER XLirr. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 The leveo at New Orleans— Ride along the quay — The ships of Sweden 
 — Jenny Lind, Thorwaldsen, and Frederika Bremer — The half- 
 masted flags — The ships of England, France, and Spain— Wharf for 
 steamers — The glory and splendor of commerce — The fate of all an- 
 cient commercial cities 338 
 
 LETTER XLIV. 
 
 The model hotel-proprietor — Diplomas — Hotel-keeping an art and pro- 
 fession — The French part of the city — Shops — The old cigar-smoker 
 — Indiflerence to observation of the French — New Orleans composed 
 of two cities — Children even speak French — An exile — A German 
 prince — nearly all languages spoken in the city 345 
 
 LETTER XLV. 
 
 The peculiarity of the streets — Young ladies taught philosophy — The 
 Place d'Armes and its gay scenes — Visit to the cathedral^ Veiled 
 lady — The confessional — Secret of power — The picture of the Pas- 
 sion — Marlolatry — Reason for it in the inseparability of the Madonna 
 and Child— St. Patrick's cathedral— 111 built church 352 
 
 LETTER XLVL 
 
 Return to the country — Correction of error caused by misplaced notes 
 — Nicolene — Who is she? — Friendbhip without siglit — A greeting to 
 the loved unknown — A wedding in pruspect — Taxes upon taste — Isi- 
 dore—Aunt Cloe icing cakes — Bosling-way 360 
 
 LETTER XLVIL 
 
 Danger of postponement of wedding — Objections now to the nuptials 
 — Isidore in despair — Kate the consoler — Colonel Peyton condemns 
 all fashion — A new idea — M. do Clery is charmed with it — Whipping 
 around the stump — The excitement of preparation — What daughters 
 exchange for husbands — Blessings on the happy pair 364 
 
 LETTER XLVIIL 
 
 A wedding — Men's curiosity — The dogs, birds, and sable urchins rejoice 
 — Old Bonus — A howling dog supposed to be an ill omen — Muzzled 
 — The visit to the chapel — The parson and his mule — Beauty of 
 scenery — The cliapel — The grave — Rencctiuns upon life and death 
 — Parting with the bride fills her heart with tears 371 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 LETTER XLIX. 
 
 TAfiE 
 
 The cortege — Slave costume — The wreath of orange blossoms — Beau- 
 tiful girls — Twenty-four bridesmaids — The wedding— The kissing — 
 The congratulations — Return to the chateau — Dinner party — Lost 
 and won hearts — Betrayal of a secret — Intended departure for New 
 York — An old maid of two and twenty 376 
 
 LETTER. L. 
 
 Preparations for Havanna — Tbe dignity of "Webster — A letter to Charley 
 — The unfledged blue bird — The trouble of its parents — Congress of 
 the forest dwellers — The efforts of the friends of the unfortunate — 
 Kate's compassion — A ladder and cotton— Moral to little boys 3S2 
 
 LETTER LL 
 
 Descending tbe Mississippi— The Balize — Singular appearance of the 
 vessels — The beauty of the first night on the gulf — The splendor of 
 Orion and Pleiades — Were there ever seven stars ? — The native 
 poetry of children 388 
 
 LETTER LIL 
 
 Havanna— The Moro Castle — A line of battle ship — Tlie scenes in the 
 streets of Havanna — The British flag — The glory of America — The 
 empire of republics — The Triumviri--Who takes their plac-e ? 394 
 
 LETTER LFIL 
 New York— Neptune — Calm seas — The living heart under the sea — 
 Vessels met in the ocean — Our passengers of ten nations — The Is- 
 raelite — What is a Jew ? — Has be a country — The future commeroial 
 splendor of the Israelites 399 
 
 LETTER LIV. 
 
 The departure oversea — Leave the cit}'^ — Cars to Boston — M. de Cressy 
 ^The aspect of Boston— Literary society — Gerraon — Mrs. Partington 
 — Her literary ambition and failure — Homeward bound— Quiet of the 
 country 405 
 
 LETTER LV. 
 
 My native village— The scenes at home— The visits of neighbors — The 
 deacon inquisitive — Bible trees— The new dresses— Buttonhole and 
 his seven suits — The proposition to print a book — Tlie proposed title 
 — Diffidence of the authoress— Farewell to literature 410 
 
16 CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER LVL 
 
 TAax 
 A surprise — Marriage of Kate nearly three years ago — Letter from her 
 
 friend, the editor — Letters to be resumed — Little Harry — Little needles 
 
 — Consent to write — Quiet and elegant home — Kate a southern 
 
 matron 415 
 
 LETTER LVir. 
 
 Mistaken for another — The European Miss Conyngham — Letters un- 
 written of a tour — The route to Thibodeaux — Bayous and boat-sail- 
 ing — Sugar fields — Customs of the people — Saturday gatherings — 
 The barges of the planters — A charming country 421 
 
 LETTER LVIIL 
 
 Illawalla or Lover's Lake — Beautiful lawns — The house and grounds 
 — Imaginary letter of the. editor — Description of a southern homo — 
 Kate's criticisms — Homes and heaven — What constitutes a home — 
 The words of Jesus — Cities the results of the fall — Race with a deer 
 — The Indian lover's death 430 
 
 LETTER LIX. 
 
 The picture — Aunt Winny — Florette and Harry — Aunt Winny's expe- 
 rience — The voice and silver trumpet — The old slave's argument 
 about tongues — The vision — The preacher and baptism — The miracle 
 and superstition of the slave — Reflection upon negro conversions — 
 An answer to an inquiry 437 
 
 LETTER LX. 
 
 Shopping — The new fashion — Chloe and the mode — Dissertation upon 
 hats and fashion generally — An acadeniy of fashions — A suggestion 
 to the ladies of America — A good result from an American court of 
 modes — Preparation for a picnic 448 
 
 LETTER LXL 
 
 The commissariat's department — Harry and the doctor — The baskets 
 and parcels — The Xebec — the floating boudoir — Uncle Ned the 
 steersman — The two sisters — Louis the lover — Harry not Cupid — The 
 bayou — BroakHist en voyage — Accession to the party — The good 
 wishes — Harry's accomplishments 453 
 
CONTENTS. IT 
 
 LETTER LXrr. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Talkative pens — Thibodeaux — Enter La Fourclie — Tlie voyage begun 
 — The torch-light funeral of the nun — The goddess Mary — The 
 prophecy and a little theology — The sugar estate — The savaanahs — 
 A deer — A.n alligator— The Gulf, ho ! 462 
 
 LETTER LXriL 
 
 Authors and money— The sight of the Gulf— Hoist sail— The sugar 
 sloop — Gulf trade — Children's speeches — The condition of the slave 
 — Northern interference — Southern humanity — When a black Moses 
 is wanted, Heaven will send hiui — The anchoring — Tent pitched — 
 An alarm 471 
 
 LETTER LXIV. 
 
 Identity of authors — Speculations — Pen — Names — Our teat lodgings 
 — The Revenue Cutter — Successful sport — Visit to Banutaria Bay 
 — The apparent volcano at sea — The sphericity of the earth — The 
 needle and light-ship — Lafitte's Fort 482 
 
 LETTER LXV. 
 
 The summer resort of Louisianians — The Roman Chapel — ** Mary and 
 Paul" — Adoration of the mother — The marquis — The post-mistress 
 and her brave father — Captain Hearn — Gentility — The mound and 
 Indian warrior — Bathing and swimming 491 
 
 LETTER LXVL 
 
 Leave the Pass — The Oregon — Lake by moonlight — The beauty of the 
 sea by night — Meeting a vessel — Grass Patch — The Fleet Anchorage 
 The Cutter — Captain Douglas Ottinger, inventor of the Life Car — 
 Mobile — Its bay and watering places — Hotels 500 
 
 LETTER LXVIL 
 
 The Southern clime — Society in Mobile — Beauty of suburbs — Society 
 Madame Le Vert — Absent in Europe — An adventurer of the female 
 sex — "Noble friends" — The jewelry discovery — Flight of the 
 e<nintess 505 
 
 LETTER LXVIIL 
 
 Leave the hospitalities of Mobile — Its pleasant people and fine drives 
 Sail up the Alabama — Montgomery — Ring left at the hotel — Con- 
 ductor's promise — Augusta — Columbia a Paradise — Charleston and 
 
 South Carolinians — The Triumviri 513 
 
 9 
 
18 . CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER LXTX. 
 
 FAGB 
 
 An old Virginia Inn— First Families— Walter Raleigli— Scenery of 
 Virginia— The son of nobles— The Inn parlor— Sumptuous table- 
 Trip to Europe — Farewell •'*2i 
 
THE SUNNY SOUTH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 Not that you are very " dear" to me, for I never 
 saw you in all my life, but then one must begin their 
 epistles, and as everybody says dear^ and don't mean 
 any thing by it, I say dear too, and don't mean any 
 thing by it, so don't flatter yourself in the least ; for, 
 if it were the fashion, and the whim hit my fancy, I 
 should just as likely have written " Bear." You edi- 
 tors presume so much, you need to be put down. 
 
 I was going to begin my letter by saying why I call 
 my letters "needles." Not, you may rest assured, be- 
 cause they are likely to be sharp and keen, for I have 
 no doubt that they will be vastly dull, but one must 
 have a title, and what must one do for one? Simple 
 '■'• Letters" would never tempt the eye. The pill must 
 be gilt. You would, no doubt, laugh very good-hu- 
 moredly if I should confess to you that I have been 
 
 (19) 
 
20 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 bothering my poor little head for three hours to-day 
 for a title. A celebrated author once told me, — for I 
 have seen such lions in my day, and talked and flirted 
 with these lords of the quill, too, — that he thought more 
 of his "titles" than of the matter of his books, and 
 that was no slight matter either ! He said he had 
 sometimes written out on a long paper, (like a subscrip- 
 tion list, I suppose,) a score of names, and then carefully 
 studied them, fancied how they would take the eye of 
 the lounger in the book-stores, or the passer-by, who 
 should glance at the big poster : he even used to go so 
 far as to set the title up in type, an amateur fount of 
 which he kept by him for this purpose, before he fully 
 fixed upon his " clap-trap.'' 
 
 Now, I can imagine all this to be very necessary, and 
 1 give this author credit for no inconsiderable knowledge 
 of human nature. Half the novels are bought by their 
 titles by half the world. I used to buy them so. 
 When I took this weighty fact into consideration, I was 
 sore perplexed. "Letters" I was resolved not to have. 
 "Epistles" looked like the New Testament, and I felt it 
 too sacred a word for me to make light use of; for I was 
 very properly brought up to reverence any thing about 
 the Scriptures. I thought of " Pen and Ink" sketches — 
 a nice title, but Mr. Willis had invented and used it : 
 happy gentleman with a gift for happy titles ! for his 
 "Pencillings by the Way" is another that came into my 
 head, and I tried every way to parody it, but I couldn't 
 manage it at all, and gave it up. I thought of " Dots 
 and Lines," but somebody had got it before me, and no- 
 thing seemed left but Dot and go One; when, in my 
 troubles I pricked my finger with a needle tha.t was 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 21 
 
 in my needle-book, which I Avas turning and turning 
 in my fingers while I was cogitating about my title. In- 
 stantly the idea flashed upon me, and the words, "Nee- 
 dles from my Needle-Book !" I seemed to read in the air 
 before my eyes. For fear I should forget the happy 
 combination, I scribbled it down on the spot, and deter- 
 mined to adopt it. 
 
 No doubt you will expect to find something short 
 and shrewd, ascetic and attic in my articles, but I pro- 
 mise you that you must look for nothing of the kind ; 
 for it only takes great authors to write books that have 
 nothing to do with their titles, nor their titles with them. 
 The only defence I can make of my caption is that it is 
 very appropriate to my sex, being a fair weapon either 
 of ofi'ence or defence, as well as the glittering shuttle 
 of female industry. Would you believe it, sir, my pupil, 
 a wicked rogue of a beauty of sixteen, (for you must 
 know I am a governess, and but nineteen and a little 
 over, myself,) she has seen my title, and says I had bet- 
 ter put, " Scissors" to it? Scissors and Needles ! Dear 
 
 us, Mr. ! w^hat would you have thought to have 
 
 opened my package, and had tJiis title met your asto- 
 nished editorial eyes ? 
 
 "SCISSORS AND NEEDLES:" 
 
 a 
 
 BY A YANKEE GIRL.' 
 
 You have had in this specimen a touch of my South- 
 western pupil's mischief, and you shall know more of 
 her by-and-by, perhaps, if you print this letter and don't 
 say any thing saucy about it ; for editors, who have lady 
 correspondents, ought to be exceedingly well-behaved and 
 mannerly, and appreciate the honor done them. Now, 
 
22 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 having introduced my title to you, how shall I introduce 
 myself and all the subjects I intend to let my pen run 
 on about ? I shall not give you my name, nor give you 
 any clue to it, if you should be never so curious to find 
 it out ; for men have so much curiosity ! even where 
 there will be, as in pay case, nothing worth the trouble 
 of finding out, for I am not so vain as to fancy I shall 
 ever be worth asking after. It will take more ink and 
 paper than I shall ever destroy, to make a lady who 
 would be ^'literary" singled out of the troupes of has 
 hleii that fill the land like the golden-winged butterflies 
 in May. But I will do what I can to please, for my 
 poor, innocent pen has got to travel a weary length, and 
 I long to make happy more than one dear heart in this 
 world. Authorship is not woman's sphere by nature, 
 but by circumstances only. Oh, how many a gentle 
 lady has the needle of poverty pricked on to seize, with 
 trembling fingers, the awe-inspiring pen ! and dip it into 
 her heart, to write out its life for bread ! Weary, oh ! 
 "weary is the path to w^oman's little feet — the path fur- 
 rowed deep by the ploughshare of penury. In the fur- 
 rows she drops the seeds of hope, and waters them with 
 tears. It is a rough way this path amid types, and in 
 the hustle for popularity and pennies, the sex is not 
 spared by the ruder ones, and the critic's iron point, 
 that maddens the strong man, pierces to the heart the 
 timid woman ! Yet, once started, she must write or die : 
 or, worse still, be dependent ; and this, to a proud wo- 
 man, is i\iQ first death of this world's deaths. 
 
 Do not think I am going to charge my palette with 
 sombre tints, from these few sentences foregoing, or that 
 I am in tears because I am for the first time taking up 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 23 
 
 the fearful pen to write for coins of silver. I am young 
 and full of hope, and my heart bounds with cheerful 
 thoughts. I do not speak in allusion to myself, there- 
 fore, when I say that it is a sad lot for a woman to be 
 compelled to toil with pen and ink for her bread; for 
 the prospect before me is a pleasing one. The very 
 idea that probably I shall see in print what I am 
 writing, (if it please your pleasure, sir, to print it, 
 though little worth it, I fear,) fills my bosom with an in- 
 definable sensation of joy, slightly mingled with a timid 
 apprehension. I am dj-ing to see myself in type; not 
 in the place where marriages are noticed; don't naughtily 
 misconceive my meaning, sir ; for I am not going to be 
 married till I enjoy myself sensibly as a ''young woman," 
 a little longer yet. My situation here is a happy one, 
 and if I only lived for myself I should not put pen to 
 paper ; for I am blessed with all I require to make me 
 contented and grateful. The timid apprehension, I feel 
 when I look forward, arises from a creeping doubt which 
 once in. a wdiile coils itself around the tree of hope in my 
 heart, touching the acceptance of my communications; 
 for this doubt insinuates, with very serpent-like wicked- 
 ness, that I shall not be proved to be clever enough to 
 write any thing worth the printing. But "hope, and 
 hope on," is the motto of my adoption, and I shall not 
 despair : I never could despair. It seems to me that if 
 I stood alone, the last one alive, upon a burning wreck 
 in the mid Mediterranean, I should not despair, but be- 
 lieve that rescue would come. 
 
 This letter is only an introductory needle, a sort of 
 autorial probe, to feel the way ; or rather like the first 
 
24 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 needle placed in an electrical battery, to be increased 
 afterwards in number, as the patient will bear. 
 
 Your correspondent, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 Dated from Overton Park, beyond the Alleqhanies. 
 
 P. S. In mj next, I will tell you something about our 
 Manor-house, and how this West-south land strikes the 
 eye of one, cradled as I have been, among the Granite 
 Mountains of the Pilgrim Land. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 25 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 It would no doubt please you, Mr. , to learn 
 
 something about us here at Overton Lodge — for this is 
 the name of the fine old Western Homestead for which 
 I have exchanged my cold, yet warm-hearted northern 
 clime. Overton Lodge, then, please to know, is a large, 
 commodious mansion of brick, square and stately, with a 
 double storied portico in front, from the upper gallery 
 of w^hich is one of the finest landscape views a painter's 
 eye — even the eye of the deathless Cole — would care to 
 banquet on. In Tennessee? you will say, with a quizzi- 
 cal movement of the under lip, and an incredulous drop- 
 ping of the outward corner of the nether eyelid. Yes, 
 in Tennessee, sir, for Overton Park is in this Western 
 Empire State. But, to my sketch — and don't interrupt 
 me sir, for any doubts about the verity of my writings, 
 for I never romance; ladies can write something besides 
 romances, sir! 
 
 Erom this upper portico the view stretches for miles 
 and leagues away, to a blue range of boldly beautiful 
 hills, that, when the atmosphere is a little hazed, seem 
 to be the blue sky itself bending down to repose upon 
 the undulating sea of forests, at their base. Between 
 these azure walls that bound our horizon westward, and 
 the mansion, lie belts of noble woodland, intermingled 
 with green intervals, through which wind transparent, 
 
26 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 rock-channeled rivulets, (they would call them rivers in 
 England,) bordered by fringes of maple, sycamore, and 
 oak trees, opulent with verdure. 
 
 Nearer the house, comprising the first breadth of view, 
 a mile and a half in width, stretch right and left the rich 
 cotton and tobacco fields, like, in the distant coup d'ceil, 
 lakes of blue and green water, slightly ruffled by the 
 breeze; while their level surface is relieved at pretty in- 
 tervals by islands of trees — half acre clumps grouped in 
 groves, and left by the overseer for shade, where slaves 
 can retire in the fervid noon, to eat their coarse but 
 abundant dinner, doubtless to them savory as Parisian 
 cuisinerie. The picturesque aspect of these grove-islands 
 is enhanced by the white walls of a negro-shelter-hut, 
 which is built upon columns to afford protection from the 
 rain. 
 
 The "Lodge," being placed with an eye to the capa- 
 bilities of the surrounding prospect, upon a gently rising 
 eminence, which is clothed with gardens to its foot, has 
 a very imposing appearance, as it is approached along a 
 winding carriage-way, that leads to it from the stage 
 road. This is at least a league off, and its place can be 
 indicated on dusty days from the house, by clouds of 
 reddish broAvn dust rolled into the air and curlinn* nlons. 
 the hedges, disturbed by the heavy wheels of the mail 
 coach, or the lighter progress of some planter's carriage 
 on its way from town. 
 
 It seemed to me when I first came in sight of the 
 mansion, that was to be (I don't know how long) my 
 home, that I was approaching the mansion of some 
 English Baronet, at least ; and the scenery of this part 
 of Tennessee, I am told, bears a striking resemblance to 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 27 
 
 that in the best part of England ; and I can bear testi- 
 mony that the neighboring gentlemen are vying in taste 
 and wealth with each other, to make this country one of 
 the most lovely in the land. For you must know that 
 this is an opulent district, and the planters here count 
 their estates rather by miles than acres. 
 
 I have described only the view in front of this stately 
 edifice, from which I am writing you. From a little 
 balcony that opens from my chamber window south, I 
 get a view of a vale and upland, dotted with sheep and 
 cattle, tended by a blind negro boy, who whistles all 
 day, and I have no doubt sleeps soundly all night ; who, 
 with his dog, complete a very nice picture of its kind. 
 The crest of the upland is topped by a wood, out of 
 which, just where the acclivity dips eastward, stares a 
 huge, bald, gray rock, in shape as much like a lion's head, 
 as either of the heads of those lions on your Exchange 
 steps in Philadelphia, for which I am credibly informed 
 that a famous dog, belonging to a Monsieur Gar del, a 
 talented gentleman of your city, sat ; and very good lions 
 they are — very like lions ! If I recollect right, this dog, 
 who sat as a model for a jmir of lions, was called " Nep- 
 tune." 
 
 I remember once seeing him at West Point, and falUng 
 in love with him, (with "Nep," not Monsieur G.,) when 
 I was about — about — let me see — thirteen. 
 
 But let me finish my scenery. This lion's-head rock 
 hangs over a deep tarn, where at mid-day, the water is 
 black and polished as glass ebon ; and near the tarn, not 
 five yards from its margin, rises thirty feet in height, a 
 green pyramid, one of the sepulchral mounds of the noble, 
 
28 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 brave, mysterious Indians, now wasted, as McLellan, one 
 of the New England poets, says, 
 
 " Like April snows 
 In tlie warm noon," 
 
 before the burning radiance of the sun of civilization. 
 On the east side of the mansion, there is quite a different 
 view from either I have described. First, the eye rests 
 on a vast vegetable and fruit garden, a score of good 
 roods broad, crossed by wide graveled walks, dotted 
 with hot-houses, and enclosed by a white paling, half- 
 concealed in a luxuriant hedge of the thorny and beautiful 
 Cherokee rose. At two corners of the garden erected 
 on high places, is perched a monstrous pigeon house, to 
 and fro, above and about which its soft winged tenants 
 are flying in clouds at all times, like the scriptural doves 
 to their windows. 
 
 Of all birds, I love the dove, the home dove, with its 
 blue and brown breast, its affectionate, trustful glance, 
 and its musical, happy coo. I have loved them in the 
 streets of my native town from a child, and stopped and 
 watched them till I forgot school hour, and dinner hour, 
 as they fluttered, hopped, sidled, and pranced about the 
 fallen oats under the farmer's cart, or crowded about the 
 shop doors. 
 
 I never failed to have my pocket filled with grain and 
 crumbs for them, and I cannot now but smile at the re- 
 collection of myself, at twelve years old, seated on a 
 curb-stone, surrounded, and lit upon, and run over, and 
 almost had my eyes put out by their wings, as they 
 eagerly shared my bounty out of my hands and lap. 
 Many a black mark at school for tardiness, and many a 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME, 29 
 
 scolding at home have I to lay to the account of the blue 
 doves. Yet I love them still ; and ere long they will find 
 out — these in the dove-cotes — that they have a friend 
 near ; and I dare say in my little balcony, ere I have 
 been here a month, will be enacted the street scenes of 
 my girlish days. 
 
 Beyond the garden is a large pond or lake, and on the 
 declivity of the opposite shore appears, half hid in the 
 trees of its pretty streets, one of the most novel and 
 striking towns I ever beheld. It is the " Quartier" or 
 African village of the estate, the Negropolis of the slave 
 population. It is composed of some thirty dwellings, 
 white-washed, one story high, arranged on two streets 
 that follow the margin of the pond. Each cottage is 
 neat and comfortable, with a small garden patch behind 
 it ; and in front are rows of shade trees for the whole 
 length of the street, growing near enough to each house 
 to aiford shade to the roofs. The streets themselves are 
 green sward, intersected by well-trodden footpaths which 
 lead from door to door. 
 
 Overlooking them all, and a little higher up the gentle 
 ascent, is a house of more pretension, built of brick, with 
 a belfry at orte end, containing a bell as loud as a 
 church bell, which I hear rung every morning at day- 
 break, and at noon, and at nine o'clock at night. This 
 house belongs to, or rather is occupied by, the overseer, or 
 manager, as these gentlemen prefer being designated. 
 Over this house rises a majestic range of mountainous 
 heights, of great beauty, from the summit of one of 
 which, three miles off, and which is designated by a 
 single scathed tree rising from a bosom of foliage, a viov 
 
30 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 can be obtained, with a good glass, of the city, six 
 leagues or thereabouts to the north ; and also of one of 
 the shining windings of the romantic Cumberland, as 
 it, for a mile or two, leaves its embracing cliffs to roll 
 gloriously along in the cloudless sunlight. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 31 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 You will have formed some idea, Mr. , from 
 
 the descriptions in my last, of the characteristics of the 
 place from which I write these communications. You 
 will perceive that I am domiciliated in one of those line 
 old mansions of the West where the lordly proprietors 
 live more like feudal nobles than simple farmers. In the 
 bosom of this beautiful scenery which I have endeavored to 
 picture to you, and within the walls of this hospitable 
 abode, I hope to make my home, at least for two years 
 to come. 
 
 Perhaps you would like to know something about me 
 before I came here to assume, at the age of nineteen, the 
 grave and responsible position of governess. I am quite 
 willing to gratify your curiosity. But first let me de- 
 scribe to you what is now passing beneath my window, 
 for I write within full sight of the lawn. There I can 
 see Colonel Peyton, the father of my pupil, seated upon 
 a finely formed bay nag, a rifle laid carelessly across his 
 saddle, and two fine deer-dogs standing by his horse's 
 forelegs and looking up wistfully into their master's face. 
 He has upon his head a broad-brimmed, white beaver, 
 turned up in front, something after the fashion of the an- 
 cient cocked hat, a manner of wearing it that lends him, 
 with his manly features and silver gray locks, a decided 
 military air. Over a brown linen hunting frock is slung a 
 
32 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 leather belt, appended to wliicli is liis powder-horn and 
 shot-bag ; and with his boots drawn a la Hussar ^ over his 
 trowsers, and armed with silver spurs, he sits accoutred for 
 the field, a handsome specimen of an American Western 
 gentleman preparing for a hunt. Standing just in front 
 of his stirrup is a negro fifty years of age, (about his 
 master's,) his old straw hat in his hand and his head bent 
 forward in an attitude at once respectful and attentive, 
 listening to orders from his master. 
 
 " You hear, Pete, that as soon as the young gentlemen 
 arrive, you are to mount the filly and bring them to the 
 wood." 
 
 ^' Yiss, massa !" and Peter bowed like a thorough-bred 
 gentleman, so courteous was the air with which he bent 
 his head. 
 
 " You will find me either at the Crow's Pine, or else 
 about the Salt Lick. See that they bring their guns." 
 
 " Yiss, massa !" 
 
 "And don't let that noisy whelp of yours," here the 
 colonel cracked his whip-lash at a wretched, shaggy 
 monster of a dog that crouched, as if fully conscious of 
 his bad reputation, behind the legs of the negro ; " don't 
 let him come into the forest again ; if he does, I'll hang 
 him. He spoiled our sport last Thursday." 
 
 "I know he did, mass'. , He berry ignorum dog, some- 
 time ; he nebber hab much telligencts like odder gemmen 
 dogs, massa; but Injun shan't come dis time." 
 
 The colonel now pointed with the end of his riding 
 whip to a gate, which Peter hastened to open; standing 
 bare-headed till his master rode through it; and then 
 closing it he returned to the house, the villainous-looking 
 dog Injun capering about him, as much overjoyed at 
 
THE POUTIIERNER AT HOME. 33 
 
 being released from the awe of the colonel's eye, as a 
 roguish school-boy when the "master" steps out. 
 
 "You mighty grad, Injun, aint you?" I overhear 
 Peter say to his companion, "but you better keep quiet 
 and min' you' business at home, or sure 'nuff massa 'II 
 hab you hang'd. You a'n't fit hunt deer like de gem- 
 men's genteel dog, you nigger you; all you do is frighten 
 'em away from de stan', and keep massa and oder gem- 
 men from gettin' shot at 'em, you scar'crow! Massa 
 sarve you right he shoot you, Injun!" 
 
 Peter's voice was lost as he went with a limping shuffle 
 around the house. I can see the noble form of the 
 colonel as his horse bears him along the avenue, and so 
 out across the green dell at an easy pace. Now he stops 
 to speak to the poor blind shepherd boy, who raises his 
 cap, and seems happy to be noticed. The sheep start 
 and bound away before the horse's feet, and the lazy kine 
 slowly give him the path. Now he winds about the base 
 of the lion's head cliff, and is now lost to sight in the 
 dark grove of elm and maple that half conceals the tarn. 
 Above his head wheels the black-winged vulture in ap- 
 proaching circles, as if he well knew that there was 
 always blood to be found in the hunter's path. 
 
 I will return to my room, and resume — myself! But I 
 am again interrupted. The ajar door of my elegant 
 apartment opens, and a negress of sixteen enters with a 
 silver cup of water, upon a silver salver. She is bare- 
 footed, and her head is bound -yrith a gay handkerchief 
 tastefully and uniquely tw^isted into a sort of oriental 
 turban ; for tjie taste of these daughters of Africa is in- 
 stinctively Eastern, A blue cotton gown completes her 
 simple attire, save a pair of bright brass ear-rings, and 
 
34 THE SUNXY south; OR, 
 
 a couple of brass and one silver ring upon her shapely 
 fingers; for her hands, and fingers, and finger nails, 
 though the former are brown as a chestnut, are exquisitely 
 shaped. Ugly hands seem to belong to the Anglo Sax- 
 ons, I think, especially to those of cold climates ; for the 
 farther we go south, the more elegant the female hand. 
 
 The name of the African maid is Eda, which is, I 
 suppose, a corruption of Edith. She was given to my 
 charge as my waiting-woman, on the first evening of my 
 arrival here; and by night she sleeps on a rug at the 
 door of my chamber. At first, I was shocked and 
 alarmed to have a negress sleep in the chamber with me ; 
 but now, I am so accustomed to her presence, and she is 
 so willing, so watchful, so attentive, so useful, that I am 
 quite reconciled to having her. "Missis, glass water, 
 please?" she said, curtseying, and dropping her large 
 lustrous eyes wdth habitual submission, as she presented 
 the salver. 
 
 I had not asked for water, but I find that it is the 
 custom for some one of the servants to go over the house 
 several times a day to every person, v/herever they hap- 
 pen to be, whether on the portico walking, or in the 
 library reading, or even pursuing them into the garden 
 to offer them water. This is a hospitable, and in the 
 hot weather of this climate, a refreshing custom. South- 
 erners are all great water drinkers. At evening, when 
 we are seated on the piazza, enjoying the beauty of the 
 western skies, sherbet, water, fruit, and even ice creams 
 have been brought out to us. Indeed, there seems to be 
 some useful person continually engaged in some myste- 
 rious corner of this large house, preparing luxuries to 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 35 
 
 dispense through the day to the inmates, and to chance 
 visitors, of which there are not a few. 
 
 When I first arrived here, and it has been scarcely a 
 month — I was amazed at the number of servants. There 
 are no less than seven in the house, and full as many 
 more connected with the gardens, stables, and for out- 
 door domestic duty, beside the two hundred plantation 
 hands that work always in the field as agriculturists ; for 
 the domestic slaves and the field slaves are two distinct 
 classes on an estate like this, and never interchange 
 labor, save indeed, when a refractory house servant is 
 sometimes sent into the field, to toil under the hot sun 
 as punishment, for a week or so. And the difference is 
 not merely in employment, but in character and appear- 
 ance.*^ The field servant is heavy, loutish, and slow; his 
 features scarce elevated in expression above the mule, 
 which is his co-laborer. The domestic servant is more 
 sprightly, better clad, more intelligent and animated, 
 apes polite manners, and imitates the polished airs of the 
 well-bred "white folk." By contact constantly with the 
 family, they use better language, have their faculties 
 sharpened, and, in a dozen ways, show their superiority 
 to the less favored helots of the plough. This superior- 
 ity they love to exhibit, and I have been amused at their 
 assumption of hauteur when they had occasion to hold 
 intercourse with any of the "field hands," sent to the 
 house on an errand. 
 
 Altogether the house servants are very different crea- 
 tures. Four of them have intelligent faces, are excel- 
 lent pastry-cooks, laundresses, dairywomen, and seam- 
 stresses, and seem, really, to take as much part and 
 
80 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 lively interest m household matters as the matron, their 
 mistress. 
 
 " Can you read, Eda?" I asked of my little Timbuctoo 
 maid, as I replaced the silver tumbler on the waiter. 
 "No, Missis," and her large velvet-black eyes danced in 
 their wide pearly spheres, as if she thought it would be a 
 fine thing to know how. 
 
 "I know spell my name, missis. Missy Bel teach me 
 dat!" 
 
 In my next you shall, certainly, have a little account 
 of myself; but I feel myself of so little importance, that 
 the least thing tempts my pen away from the egotistical 
 theme. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate C. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 3T 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 Just as I was about to drop my pen into mj ink- 
 stand to commence this epistle, the clear, startling crv 
 of a hunter's horn in the forest drew me to the window, 
 which overlooked the south, and the cliff called the 
 Lion's head. Just emerging from the wood was a caval- 
 cade, that reminded me of something of a similar de- 
 scription Scott has in one of his romances. First, there 
 rode the colonel, our "lord of the manor," bare-headed, 
 his gun laid across his saddle-bow, and his hunting skirt 
 open at the collar, and thrown negligently back over his 
 shoulders. By his side were some half dozen dogs, 
 trottino- alono; with their red tons-ues lollino- out and look- 
 ing, for all the world, thoroughly beat out with the day's 
 chase. Behind the colonel came a negro, mounted, with 
 a wounded dog laid across the neck of his horse. Be- 
 hind the negro, riding on elegantly shaped horses, cantered 
 two young men, one of them very handsome, but dressed 
 in a frock coat, and gaiters of blue cottonade. His rifle 
 was slung at his back ; he was belted, and a knife and a 
 powder flask were in his girdle. His companion was 
 more fashionably dressed, and instead of a rifle carried 
 only a light bird gun. In the rear followed two negro 
 men on foot, bearing between them a slain deer, slung 
 by the fetlocks to a newly-cut branch. Two or three 
 African boys, and some half dozen more dogs completed 
 
88 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 the cortege. One of the young men (the handsome one 
 in the kerseys) carried a horn, which, ever and anon, he 
 wound cheerily to give notice at the Lodge of their ap- 
 proach. So I will leave them to make their way to the 
 house, and fulfil the promise made in my last, to let you 
 understand why a Yankee girl finds herself a dweller in 
 the far South-west. 
 
 Shall I hegin in the true romantic vein, Mr. , or 
 
 in the style biographique ? I think I will, for the sake 
 of trying my forte that way, assume the manner of the 
 tale-writers ; for perhaps one of these days, who know^s ? 
 I may get to the dignity of being a story-writer to the 
 Ledger or magazines, a distinction (all things being equal 
 — that is, the quid being equal to the quo as my brother 
 used to say) I should feel highly honored, I confess, to 
 arrive at. Noav to my own story : 
 
 Once upon a time there stood in a New England 
 village, not far from Portsmouth, in N. H. a little cottage, 
 white, with a portico trellised by honeysuckles, and a 
 little gate in the paling in the front of it. The cottage 
 stood upon a quiet street, near the outskirts of the 
 village, and was so near the river-bank, that I, who was 
 one of the "cottagers," could toss pebbles into its lucid 
 bosom from my window. It was a quiet spot, this village 
 with its garden-buried houses, its one tin-plated spire, 
 shining in the sun like a silver "extinguisher," its green 
 river shores, and pleasant woodlands where the boys had 
 famous bird's-nesting of Saturday afternoons. 
 
 My father, a naval ofiicer of name and honor, fell 
 sick and died on a foreign station, leaving my mother 
 with six little mouths to feed, and six little backs to keep 
 warm, and six little heads to fill with learning. To aid 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 39 
 
 her to do all this, she received a narrow pension allowed 
 her for her widowhood. It was a sore struggle for the 
 mother to guard and nourish and cover her large brood 
 with such narrow wings. Her widowed feathers would 
 hardly cover us all, and sornc of us always were suf- 
 ferers, either for supper, a pair of shoes, or may be a 
 frock, or jacket, or a necessary school-book. 
 
 But Providence takes care of the widow, and so none 
 of us perished ; nay, were ever sick, and what with kind 
 neighbors, (oh, how many kind neighbors there are in the 
 world !) what, with presents of Christmas-days, Thanks- 
 giving-days, and the blessed Common-school where we all 
 went without cost, we managed to weather the beginning 
 of life bravely. 
 
 Charles, my elder brother, through the kindness of 
 the member of Congress from our district, had his name 
 presented to the Secretary of the Navy for a midship- 
 man's warrant ; but, none offering, soon the same kind 
 influence placed him in West Point as a cadet, and now 
 he is a lieutenant, and won, though it is a sister's praise, 
 a distinguished name on the fields of Mexico. If I dared 
 name him, sir, you would at once bear testimony to the 
 truthfulness of my eulogy. 
 
 The second child, a daughter, after as good an edu- 
 cation as the village school offered, was chosen at the 
 age of sixteen as its assistant, and after three years she 
 married a young minister, near Norfolk, Va., who sub- 
 sequently went abroad as a missionary, and is now a 
 resident in a far, far land. 
 
 The third child was a son, who, inspired by the tales 
 of his father's exploits on 1)hc ocean during the war, 
 went to sea, before the mast, as he said, "to win a 
 
40 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 name." Seven years have elapsed since his departure, 
 and he has not been heard from, and I fear that we shall 
 meet no more in this life. He was a noble, bold, chival- 
 rous boy, and my mother's joy ! If he is alive, I know 
 that he is yet worthy of om* love and pride. 
 
 The fom'th child is your humble correspondent, of whom 
 I will speak when I have dismissed the remaining two. 
 
 The fifth is a girl ; but alas ! she is an invalid, having 
 a lame hip, which confines her to the house. She is the 
 loveliest flower of our family parterre ! Never were such 
 deep, dark, glorious eyes as hers ! They speak ! Her 
 face is exquisitely shaped, every feature as soft and spi-- 
 ritual as the gentle angel faces we see in dreams ! I 
 can behold her now — the enchanting Ida, seated by my 
 mother's knee on her favorite stool, her heavenly face 
 of pure intelligence blended with love, upturned with a 
 smile. She is now sixteen, but there is so much wisdom 
 in her eyes, so much gravity in her manner, the result 
 of suffering, that she seems twenty. But her figure is 
 child-like, and faultless as that of the chiseled Greek 
 Slave ! Noble Ida ! If thy eyes should rest on these 
 lines, accept, sweet sister mine, this tribute of love and 
 memory ! She is my mother's second self, the partner 
 of her hours, the confidant of her heart's secrets, the 
 angel of her presence. 
 
 The sixth is a boy, a buoyant, laughing, rollicking 
 boy, with spirits enough in him for half a dozen girls, 
 of whom, however, he is as shy as if he had no fine, 
 handsome face to commend him to the romping hoydens. 
 He is just nine years old, and the hahy ! He has no 
 idea of books, and never oould bend his fingers to pen- 
 holding. His genius lies in kite-flying, fishing, rabbit- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 41 
 
 snaring, bird's-nesting, boating on the river, and in rid- 
 ing the minister's old blind horse to water, full gallop, 
 a feat, (that is, the galloping,) the minister could never 
 succeed in getting out of him. This brother is his mo- 
 ther's other joy ; or, rather, Ida is her joy, and Preble 
 (so named by my father after the gallant commodore) 
 is her admiration. 
 
 NoAV, if you have listened as becomes you to listen 
 when a '^fa^^'e ladye" speaks, you know all about my 
 family and myself. No — not myself. Be patient, and 
 you shall have your ignorance enlightened on this score. 
 Shall I describe myself? or shall I leave you to guess 
 that my height is five feet four, that my hair is a dark 
 brown, and worn smoothly so as to hide both ears like a 
 coif, and knotted behind in very abundant folds ; that 
 my cast of beauty is brunette ; that my eyes are said to 
 be like my sister Ida's, only less, that is to say, a little 
 more saucy in their brilliancy ; that my nose is a very 
 good nose as noses go ; that I have a good mouth and 
 very fine teeth, which I don't show too much when I 
 smile ; that I usually dress in white in summer and ma- 
 roon in winter, and that my hand is — is — like too many 
 of the hands of northern maidens, better looking in a 
 glove than out of one ? I do not sing at all. I never 
 was taught the piano, for you must by this time be aware 
 that our little cottage had no room for such a costly 
 aff*air, though somehow the instrument does seem to find 
 room in a great many houses too small for it ! I do not 
 dance, for we had no dancing-school in our village, and 
 our mother was too sensible to have sent me to one if 
 there had been. She knew that there were temptations 
 enough in this naughty world to surround young people, 
 
42 THE suNXY south; or, 
 
 without adding to them tlie love of dancing, which 
 tempts many a sweet, good girl into many a folly, after- 
 wards bitterly repented of. Parlor dancing, in the home 
 circle, where grandpa joins in it, that is the only danc- 
 ing that is truly innocent and cheerful. I draw, for my 
 mother taught me ; I sometimes sketch, and color my 
 eftbrts ; I speak and write French, being taught this by 
 my brother when he came home at intervals from West 
 Point. I have mastered German and Italian, and know 
 enough of Spanish to pronounce correctly the names of 
 all our victorious battle-fields, — a no mean acquisition in 
 itself, they are so numerous. Lastly, I am a governess, 
 and am aiming, with all modest diffidence and deference 
 to your decisions, dreadful sir, to be an authoress. 
 
 When I had attained my fifteenth year, I also was ad- 
 vanced to be assistant in the school where I had been 
 educated from a child. After two years' pleasant toil, 
 I heard that in Massachusetts there were institutions, 
 called Normal Schools, where young females were edu- 
 cated to be teachers. Having some money, the fruits of 
 my teaching, I applied to be received into this noble 
 school, and after due time I received my diploma, attest- 
 ing my qualifications to teach. I soon obtained a school 
 in a considerable town, and had no expectations of doing 
 any thing else than growing gray in my vocation, when, 
 about a year and a half after I had come to the town, as 
 I was locking up my castle one evening after my day's 
 duties were over, my attention was drawn to a handsome 
 private carriage rolling along the road. In it sat a fine- 
 looking man, with the unmistakeable air and aspect of a 
 Southerner, and by his side was a young girl of fifteen 
 or sixteen, with that rich olive cheek and Italian form 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 43 
 
 of face which distinguishes the maidens of our more 
 sunny South. 
 
 My school-house was a very pretty one, with a hand- 
 some portico, green blinds, granite steps, a grassy yard, 
 and neat, snow-white fence, while trees shaded as well 
 as adorned the premises. I saw him cast his eyes over 
 the whole with a pleased look, and then his gaze fell 
 upon me. I dropped my eyes, and taking out the keys, 
 put them in my bag, and was turning to go homeward, 
 when I saw the carriage stop. The gentleman, who was 
 a man of fifty, with a fine bearing, and gray and brown 
 locks mingled about his forehead, raised his hat, and 
 com-teously beckoned to me to approach. 
 
 "Pardon me, Miss," he said, in that half apologetic 
 tone which marked the thorough-bred gentleman, " May 
 I take the liberty to inquire if you are a teacher?" 
 I bowed affirmatively. 
 
 " You will excuse the liberty I take, but I am desir- 
 ous of obtaining a teacher to go south-west with me, 
 and having applied to the Normal School, I was directed 
 to this town by the Principal, who told me that there 
 was a young lady here whom I could, no doubt, succeed 
 in employing. As he spoke so highly of her, and gave 
 me her address, I have driven here to have an interview 
 with her. You will be likely to know her abode, and 
 will oblige me by directing me to it." 
 "What is her name, sir?" I inquired. 
 "Miss Catharine Conyngham," he read off from the 
 back of a letter. 
 
 I started with surprise and pleased confusion. He 
 saw my embarrassment, and read plainly the secret in 
 my tell-tale face. 
 
44 THE >sUi^NY south; or, 
 
 "Perliaps," he added, with a look of gratification, 
 " perhaps I have the pleasure of addressing the very 
 person — Miss Conyngham herself?" 
 
 I informed him that I was that person, when, inter- 
 changing a glance of satisfaction with the young lady, 
 he handed me the letter, and requested me to read it ; 
 but first that I must get up into the carriage and sit 
 down, but this courtesy I declined, and breaking the 
 seal I read as follows : — But I will defer the letter to my 
 next, as I am invited down to look at the slain deer in 
 the back gallery. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 45 
 
 LETTER y. 
 
 I HAVE to apologize to you, sir, for not keeping you 
 in "Needles," and I hope you will not say any thing 
 very naughty, because you have not heard from me so 
 long. I have been traveling, and could not devote any 
 time to my pen. You know that it is the custom for 
 planters to leave their homes for the summer months, 
 and tour it; and, being governess, I, of course, accom- 
 panied our family, in order to keep up my pupils in their 
 books, though little book was learned, be assured, either 
 at the mountains or the springs, for young folks have 
 too much to tempt them at these places to con lessons. 
 
 After a pleasant summer jaunt, we are once more in 
 our lovely home, and I trust I shall be able to continue 
 to write you in my leisure. Perhaps, one of these days, 
 I may give you a description of our three months in the 
 Mountains of Cumberland, and at the Springs of Vir- 
 ginia. I will now resume my "Needles" where I left 
 off, which, perhaps, you will remember was when I had 
 just shut up my village school, and broken the seal of 
 a letter handed to me by a strange gentleman in a car- 
 riage. The letter was as follows, written by the super- 
 intendent of the State Normal School : — 
 
 Normal School. 
 
 Dear Miss Conyngham: 
 
 The bearer is Colonel Peyton, a planter of intelli- 
 gence and fortune, who wishes a governess, who will be 
 
46 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 charged with the education of his daughter. The posi- 
 tion seems to be a very desirable one, and I would re- 
 commend you to accept it, if he should, after seeing you, 
 offer it to you. 
 
 Truly your friend, 
 
 B. W. 
 
 Upon reading this epistle, I looked up and saw the 
 eyes of both Colonel Peyton and his daughter fixed upon 
 my face, as if trying to divine the effect it had upon me. 
 The gentle eyes of the maiden, who looked earnestly at 
 me, as if she hoped I was not going to say ''no," and 
 the gentlemanly, agreeable manners, and the fine expres- 
 sion of the father's face, decided me at once. " If the 
 place is offered to me," said I, mentally, "I will not 
 refuse it. I know I shall be happy with such persons 
 as those." Yet I hesitated and could not speak ; for I 
 thought of my little pupils, some of whom had entwined 
 themselves around my heart ; and I felt reluctant to 
 leave them. 
 
 While I was thinking between hope and sorrow what 
 answer I should make — an answer that w^ould perhaps 
 govern my future destiny — Colonel Peyton was pleased 
 to say kindly : 
 
 " I fear. Miss, that you are going to disappoint us. 
 The high terms in which you have been spoken of to me, 
 are confirmed by seeing you. Are you willing to accept 
 the situation alluded to in the letter?" 
 
 I hesitated. My eyes filled with tears — tears at the 
 thought of parting with my school — tears of gratitude, 
 that I was thought worthy of so much confidence. 
 
 "Oh, do not refuse — do say yes,'' cried his lovely 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 47 
 
 (laughter, extending her hand, and clasping mine warmly 
 in her own. " You shall be my eldest sister, and I will 
 make you as happy as I can. Please, say you will go 
 
 with us." 
 
 ^'I cannot refuse," said I, smiling at her enthusiasm. 
 "If your father wishes, I give my consent," answered 
 I, without a thought about terms : for I felt that I could 
 be happy to be one of the inmates of the family, and 
 call such excellent persons "friends." My heart seemed 
 to feel like a daughter's heart towards Colonel Peyton, 
 and certainly glowed with sisterly love towards Isabel. 
 
 " The matter is settled, then," said Colonel Peyton, 
 with animation. " We are more fortunate than we anti- 
 cipated. Come, Miss Katharine, let me drive you to 
 your residence, and then leave you to make preparations, 
 while we remain at the hotel." 
 
 When I alighted from the chariot at the door of the 
 house in which I boarded, there were a great many heads 
 at the neighboring windows, to see the fine "Boston 
 carriage," as they called it ; and when they soon learned, 
 by the cries of three or four little girls, my scholars, that 
 it had come to take me far away to the South, there was 
 more commotion than I dreamed such a body as I could 
 
 cause. 
 
 When I made known to my landlady and to the neigh- 
 bors, who flocked in to hear the news, my prospects, 
 some congratulated me, but more said they would not 
 part with their "school-mistress," that it would break 
 the children's hearts ; and the children, inspired by their 
 words, began to cling round me, and take on so dread- 
 fully, that I was near sending over word to the tavern 
 
48 THE STJXNY south; or, 
 
 to Colonel Peyton, withdrawing my consent to go with 
 him. 
 
 In half an hour I succeeded in convincing: the most 
 zealous of my friends, that it would be greatly to my 
 advantage to go with the Southern family, and, by bed- 
 time, all opposition, save in the form of a lovely little 
 lame scholar of mine, was appeased. This child, to 
 which I was very much attached, would not leave the 
 house to go to its home, but, creeping up stairs, clung to 
 my pillow, and bathed it in tears. Her little prayers of 
 entreaty had nearly conquered me. The result of all 
 was, however, that the succeeding afternoon, I bade fare- 
 well to all my village friends, and left the town by the 
 road passing the school-house. Here, to my surprise, 
 and to the increase of my grief, I found all my scho- 
 lars, some forty in number, drawn up to see me for 
 the last time. They had reached the school-house by a 
 path across the fields. Colonel Peyton stopped the car- 
 riage, and every one climbed up to kiss me — some put- 
 ting wreaths upon my head, and others placing in my 
 hands little tokens to remember them by. 
 
 "Don't forget me. Miss Kate !" cried a score of little 
 voices. "We'll never forget you. Miss Kate!" called 
 out others, as we once more drove on. My little, lame 
 pupil was not among them, for I had left her sobbing as 
 if her heart would break, up stairs on my bed. As the 
 carriage turned and hid the town, we heard a shout of 
 " Good-bye, Miss Kate ! Good-bye ! Come back again, 
 won t you i 
 
 Their voices no longer heard, I gave vent to my feel- 
 ings in a gush of tears. Colonel Peyton did not disturb 
 
THE SOFTHERXER AT HOME. 49 
 
 them. Isabel nestled her hand in nihie, and I felt her 
 tears dropping warm upon it. 
 
 The same evening, we reached Boston, and in a few 
 days afterwards were en route to the West, by the way 
 of Philadelphia and Pittsburg. 
 
 I will not detain you by describing our journey, but 
 close this letter by saying, that after a delightful trip of 
 three weeks, we reached the elegant, ii>terior city of 
 Nashville, from which a ride of two hours and a half 
 brought Colonel Peyton and his daughter home, and me 
 to what will be "a home" for me two years to come. 
 
 In my next, I will resume the description of things in 
 the West, which I have interrupted to give you the his- 
 tory of my first coming thither. 
 
 I am, sir, yours, respectfully, 
 4 Kate. 
 
50 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 Mr, . 
 
 I HAVE seen in your paper a little notice of my letters 
 by some lady, (I am sure it was a female,) who takes me 
 to task for writing about myself. She says it does not 
 matter what the color of an authoress's eyes are, or 
 whether she have small or large hands, or feet; and she 
 takes it upon herself to box my ears for talking about 
 
 myself. Now, Mr. , I think that a great deal can 
 
 be learned about an authoress, by knowing the hue of 
 the eyes, and the number of the shoe or glove she hides 
 foot or hand in. It don't matter much, perhaps, whether 
 a man who writes an arithmetic, or a woman who writes 
 a geography, have gray locks or red, long noses or 
 short, beards or no beards, for I have seen, (ah, shock- 
 ing!) women Avith beards, and thoy always seem to be 
 proud of them, the way they cherish them! While I 
 write, I recall a " lady" with four moles on her chin, each 
 of which is tufted with a respectable camel's hair pencil. 
 Do not such monsters know there are such inventions 
 as tweezers? 
 
 When one writes to interest, and writes one's thoughts, 
 then it is agreeable to the reader to know something 
 about the writer's person. I am sure (now don't call me 
 vain, lady critic severe) that my readers will not like me 
 any thing the less for the description I have given of 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 51 
 
 myself. I see also that one of your readers wishes to 
 know the address of the "Yankee Girl," and that you 
 
 decline giving it. Very good, Mr. ; and pray, who 
 
 gave it to you? How coolly you decline to give what 
 you do not possess ; for I am sure you could not tell how 
 to reach me by a letter, if you wished to do so. But 
 one of these days, if I see a paragraph in your paper, 
 saying that after my ten trial "needles" are written, 
 you will engage me to persevere in authorship, I will 
 then remove the veil. 
 
 I have already described to you the happiness I enjoy 
 in my new and stately home, the appearance of things, 
 and the beautiful scenery with which the villa is sur- 
 rounded. I will now give you some account of the man- 
 ner in which we pass the day on the plantation, and 
 every day is pretty much the same, save when Sunday 
 comes, or a party of visitors from town, or from some 
 neighboring plantation arrives. About half past four in 
 the morning, I am regularly awakened by a bell, as loud 
 as a college or chapel bell; which is rung in the belfry 
 of the overseer's house, to call the slaves up. Its clear 
 lively peal continues for about three minutes. I open 
 my eyes, see that all is dark, and then sink to sleep 
 again. Or if I lie awake, I soon hear the tramp of the 
 laborers passing along the avenue, and the jingling of 
 horse chains, as the horses and mules are led by to the 
 field. All is soon again still as midnight ; for the plan- 
 tation bell does not disturb the domestic servants in the 
 house, who generally indulge in bed a half hour longer. 
 I believe that I am the only one in the house that the 
 bell disturbs ; yet I do not begrudge the few minutes' 
 
52 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 loss of sleep it causes me, it sounds so pleasantly in tlie 
 half-clreamy morning. 
 
 About six o'clock I am awakened for tlie day, by the 
 soft footstep of my pretty negress Eda, who steals to my 
 bedside to whisper — "Missy Kate, six o'clock, missy," 
 and next goes- to withdraw the curtains, and let in the 
 glorious sumbeams, to gild the atmosphere of the room. 
 She then brings me a laver of cool fresh water from the 
 spring, and snowy napkins ; and for the first three or 
 four mornings after my arrival, she brought me a wine 
 mint julep. Yes, sir, a regular mint julep ! And when 
 I refused it, spite of its delicious taste and aroma, (for I 
 
 am a Daughter of Temperance, Mr. ,) she opened 
 
 her large eyes with wonder, saying, '^Why, missy, dey 
 nebber so nice!" Her assurance, that it was the custom 
 of the house to guests, never moved me, though I must 
 confess they looked very tempting. When she found 
 that I was not to be tempted, she brought me coffee, 
 black, and clear, and fragrant enough for a Turkish Sul- 
 tana. But I had been raised in the plain, simple, Yankee 
 way, and so had no use for such luxury, and have ban- 
 ished both julep and coffee before I get up in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 My sable maid aids me in my toilet, combs and twists 
 my long hair with the grace and art of a Parisienne, and 
 makes herself most useful. Indeed one does not know 
 of how many uses a servant may be, till one has one, as 
 I have now for the first time in my life. How differently 
 brought up are we Yankee girls from the Southern girls, 
 who never do any thing themselves, being always at- 
 tended by a shadow of a little negress, or an ancient 
 mammy! For my part, I find it very pleasant: — "Eda, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 53 
 
 a g]<ass of water;" or, ^'Eda, bring me such a book from 
 the parlor below;" or, "Eda, hand me mj fan;" or, 
 " Eda, a dozen other things." Oh, it is very convenient ; 
 and I do believe a Northern girl in these circumstances, 
 will, in a year, render herself more helpless than even a 
 Southerner to the manor born. 
 
 At seven, a clear-ringing, silver table bell calls all from 
 their rooms to the breakfast apartment, which is a 
 spacious, cool piazza, shut in bj green blinds, and adorned 
 with cages of mocking and canary birds, which sing all 
 the meal time. 
 
 Breakfast usually consumes half an hour. Four or 
 five varieties of warm bread load the table, with succotash, 
 and hominy, and ham always. Two men and two 
 negresses, all well dressed and in white aprons, wait on 
 table, and anticipate every wish. The colonel always 
 asks a devout blessing, all being seated, and all respond 
 a loud "Amen." Two noble dogs generally crouch 
 either side of the colonel's arm chair, and a monstrous 
 Maltese cat, having taken a liking to me, seats herself 
 by my chair with a wistful look. After breakfast the 
 colonel lights a cigar at a coal brought him, unbidden, 
 by a negro boy, for he knows his master's habits; and 
 another servant holds a ready saddled horse at the 
 door. ~ 
 
 The colonel mounts him, and rides away to overlook 
 his estate, sometimes accompanied by Isabel and me, 
 when we have brave gallops home alone. About nine 
 o'clock we take to our books or our needles, and sit 
 Avherever we choose; in our rooms, in the breezy hall, on 
 the piazza, or in the drawing-room. At eleven an at- 
 tentive servant brings refreshments, when studies and 
 
54 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 needles are dropped, and we have gossip, music, and 
 sometimes jump the rope, swing, or play at battledore. 
 If we have calls to make, the carriage is ordered at half- 
 past eleven, and after a drive of two hours or three, we 
 return to dine at two o'clock. 
 
 The dinner table is placed in the large central hall of 
 the house, and every dish elegantly served. Above the 
 table is a huge silk covered fan, the breadth of the table. 
 Tassels are attached to it, and it is fringed with crimson. 
 From rings in the corners lead red cords, which are 
 pulled to and fro by a little negro, all dinner time. 
 This regular and ceaseless movement of the fan above 
 our heads creates an agreeable breeze, which in this 
 climate is most luxurious. The dinner consists of many 
 courses, with wine and dessert of fruit, sweetmeats, ices, 
 nuts, domestic grapes, and black coffee. The ladies 
 then leave the gentlemen at the table to smoke, and re- 
 tire to their own rooms to sleep till the cool of the day. 
 The "lords" sometimes at hunting dinners sleep at the 
 table. 
 
 Towards evening all is animation. Saddle horses are 
 ordered, and away we scamper, now to the tarn, or to 
 climb the lion's head, or to canter along the turnpike. 
 We generally get back by twilight in fine spirits. Tea 
 and coffee are handed to us whenever we choose to have 
 it, no table being ever set for the evening repast. It 
 takes three servants to hand it. One comes with a waiter 
 of napkins first; another follows with cofi'ee and sugar; 
 a third with cakes of all sorts, and sometimes a fourth 
 with purple finger glasses. In the evening we all as 
 semble in the brilliantly lighted parlors, where we have 
 
THE SOUTHERNEK AT HOME. 55 
 
 music, play at chess, (tlie colonel and I take a game at 
 backgammon usually,) read, or talk. By ten we all re- 
 tire; and soon the house is buried in the repose of mid- 
 night. So pass the happy days at Overton Lodge. 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate. 
 
56 THE SUNNY SOUTH; 0R» 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Have you ever been fox hunting? If you have, 
 you have seen very respectable, rough and tumble en- 
 joyment ; if yon have not, there are yet before you certain 
 experiences. 
 
 I have already spoken of the fine, broadly spread 
 landscape, visible from the portico of Overton Park 
 Lodge. In the late autumnal months when the crops 
 are well gathered, and there is nothing to trample down 
 in the fields, this wide landscape is converted into a vast 
 fox hunting ground, full eleven miles across. By con- 
 cert the neighboring planters open their fences with 
 many a gap across the country, and so a clear ride of 
 ten or twelve miles is left free to the adventurous hunts- 
 man or huntswoman. 
 
 Two evenings ago as I was about to mount my beauti- 
 ful dapple mule, (don't laugh at my mule, for it is the 
 dearest little fellow with ears like velvet, and feet and 
 fetlocks like an antelope's, a special gift to me for its 
 beauty and gentleness, from Colonel Peyton,) to pace 
 down the avenue to the turnpike, I was surprised to see 
 suddenly appear in sight a party of seven young gentle- 
 men. They were riding at top speed, and in great glee, 
 and all came dashing up toward the villa at that rapid 
 rate the Tennesseean loves to ride. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER. AT HOME. 57 
 
 ''Ah, my boys," cried the colonel, "who was about to 
 ride out with me, removing his foot from the stirrup, 
 •while I hesitated whether to remain on the flight of steps 
 or fly from such a battalion. "Don't go, Miss Kate. 
 They are only some of the young fox hunters come over 
 to make preparations." 
 
 And before I could escape — 
 
 "Miss Conyngham, gentlemen!" 
 
 The young men, who drew up their horses on seeing a 
 lady, lifted their caps and hats, and I was struck with 
 their general appearance ; four of them being fine-looking, 
 yet dressed in blue linsey-woolsey, with boots pulled on 
 over their pantaloons; and the other three in thick coats 
 and caps, or broad felt hats slouched behind — a very 
 common head covering in these parts and not unpictu- 
 resque. Every young man was armed with a gun, and 
 attended at least by two dogs, and beautiful creatures 
 
 some of them were — not the young men, Mr. , but 
 
 the hounds. 
 
 "Well, colonel, we have come over to settle upon the 
 day," said one of the young gentlemen. 
 
 "That is right! I like to see the rising generation 
 prompt to engage in such noble sports. I think that the 
 day after to-morrow we will give Reynard our compli- 
 ments in person. I will have my men ready, and if you 
 will meet me at the edge of the wood, by the lion's head 
 clifi", at six in the morning, we will do our best for a day's 
 sport." 
 
 "We'll be there, colonel," Avas the response; "and 
 then we shall stand a chance of bringing down a deer or 
 two," added one of them. "I saw one on the ridge by 
 the creek as I rode over." 
 
58 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 ''No doubt we shall see plenty of sport. And you must 
 accompany us, Miss Kate," added the colonel turning to 
 me, as I stood with the bridle of my mule in my hand, 
 trying to check his restive movements, for the prancing 
 horses of the young men fired his ambition to prance 
 too. 
 
 After sufi'ering myself to be urged a little by two of 
 the young gentlemen, I consented to join the party, if 
 other ladies did so. The cavalcade then escorted us to the 
 gate of the main road, and the horsemen separated each 
 to his own home ; while the colonel and I took a forest 
 road, that, after a league's windings, came out near the 
 villa. As we rode, the colonel entertained me with a 
 great many anecdotes of hunting, from Bruin to the 
 Hare. As we approached the mansion on our return, 
 the avenue was temporarily blocked up by not less than 
 fifty slaves of both sexes ; for it was now twilight, and 
 they had just completed their day's work, and were 
 wending their way to their village, or qiiartier. 
 
 The women carried hoes upon their shoulders, and 
 trudged along, some dull, and with expressionless faces, 
 others laughing and singing. The men, I remarked, were 
 more cheerful than the women, and had more lively 
 countenances. One and all were clad in their coarse 
 white cloth, known as negro cloth — the men with straw 
 hats and the women with handkerchiefs upon their heads. 
 I have not yet seen a negro w^oman wear a bonnet on 
 Sundays, it is only a gayer kerchief. 
 
 As we passed, they drew up on each side of the narrow 
 road for us to pass — the men all taking olF, or touching 
 their hats, and replying with a smile to their master's 
 salutation of "Good evening, boys!" and the women — 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 59 
 
 some of them, slightly nodding, but witliout the smile. 
 One of them had a huge cotton basket upon her head. 
 
 "Peep into it," said the colonel, as I rode bv. I did 
 so, and beheld four little cunning black babies! — they 
 were nestled together, and quite naked. These babies 
 had been taken by their mothers to the field, and while 
 they were at work, were placed under the care of the girl 
 who had them in charge. 
 
 I am already getting reconciled to slavery, since I find 
 that it does not, in reality, exhibit the revolthig horrors 
 I was taught in the North to discover in it. There are 
 many things to admire and to interest one in the social 
 and domestic condition of the slaves, and I am almost 
 ready to acknowledge that the African is happier in 
 bondage than free ! At least one thing is certain : nearly* 
 all the free negroes I have ever seen in the North were 
 miserable creatures, poor, ragged, and often criminal. 
 Here they are well clad, moral, nearly all religious, and 
 the temptations that demoralize the free blacks in our 
 northern cities are unknown to, and cannot approach 
 them. 
 
 As we drew near the front of the villa, my mule, not 
 liking the shrill cry of a superb peacock, which conceived 
 the idea of welcoming us with a song, and a resplendent 
 unfolding of his prismatic-eyed tail, started to run with 
 me at top speed. I am a tolerable rider, and as I could 
 not fall far if I were thrown, the mule being so little and 
 low, I did not feel half the alarm the colonel manifested 
 for my safety, who began to ride after me ; when finding 
 his horse only gave fresh impetus to the speed of my 
 mule, he drew rein, and called to a negro man to stop 
 my career. But the mule was not to be stopped. In- 
 
60 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 stead of taking the carriage-way, he bolted across the 
 lawn, and made straight for the stable. To stop him was 
 impossible. I found I might as well pull at a granite 
 column as at his jaws. The door of his stable was open, 
 and I saw that he would only stop at his crib. I measured 
 the ground to spring to it, but the dreadful idea that my 
 skirt might entangle with the horns of the saddle, de- 
 terred me. In another moment the stable was reached ! 
 The door was open. I threw myself forward, clasped 
 neck and mane, and stooping low went safely in with 
 him. The suddenness with which he stopped at his 
 manger, tossed me into the rack, out of which I was taken 
 unhurt, and with many a joke and laugh upon my mule 
 race. But a mule race is not a fox hunt, you say ! Bide 
 a wee, sir. 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 61 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 In mj last, I said I would give you an account of a 
 foX'itiiit, but ended my letter with a mule-race. But 1 
 will now redeem my pledge. Early in the morning, the 
 day but one after the party of young men called at the 
 lodge, we all were up with the ringing of the overseer's 
 bell. By six o'clock we were assembled in the hall, 
 where a lunch and a cup of hot coffee awaited us. By 
 half-past six, ten of us in the saddle, including three 
 ladies, were cantering at a brisk rate down the avenue, 
 in the direction of a gate which led into the wide cotton 
 fields, spread a league away beyond the villa. Not less 
 than seven Africans, mounted, or on foot, brought up 
 the rear of our cavalcade. 
 
 Reaching the gate, which one of the impatient young 
 gentlemen opened almost at a speed, managing his horse 
 adroitly the while, we dashed through, and emerged in 
 the old hickory grove, the smooth grass of which glittered 
 with dew-drops. The woods echoed with the tramp of 
 our horses, and the laugh and merry talk of the young 
 men and ourselves, not excluding the white-locked 
 colonel, whose cheerful voice rose above all others. 
 After a spirited gallop of half a mile through the grove, 
 we emerged upon an open field, where once corn had 
 grown, but which, having been harvested, left a desolate 
 waste. In the midst of this field was a ravine, thickly 
 
62 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 grown with bushes, which was known to be a favorite 
 haunt of Reynard. The negroes, who had followed us 
 with the dogs, were now called up, and ordered to ap- 
 proach the thicket, and stir up such gentlemen of the 
 red brush as might sojourn therein. The order to ad- 
 vance was obeyed by the negroes and dogs with emulous 
 alacrity. It was, for the first hundred yards, a laughable 
 race between quadruped and biped; but the last were 
 distanced, and the dogs reaching the covert, dashed into 
 it, a dozen in all, in perfect silence of tongue. But the 
 negroes kept up an incessant yell as they neared the 
 bushes, which they began to beat, uttering loud shouts 
 and challenges to master Keynard to "come out and 
 show hisself like a gemman, and not to be 'fraid of white 
 folks." 
 
 Reynard, however, did not feel inclined to respond to 
 their polite and repeated invitations. The dogs, in the 
 meantime, were busy in the ravine. We could hear 
 them crashing about over the dry sticks, but not a single 
 bark from them. 
 
 " They know the fox is there, or they would be noisy," 
 said the colonel, as he watched the copse. 
 
 "Now, Miss Kate, we shall soon have sport. Hark! 
 hear that! Isn't it music?" 
 
 And music it was, such as I had never before listened 
 to. The whole pack, taking the deep short bark of one 
 of them as their cue, suddenl}'- opened in full voice from 
 the ravine. A dozen sonorous canine voices were bay- 
 ing at once. The noise was singularly exciting. It 
 made my pulse bound, and my heart tremble with ex- 
 pectation. If you should hear the burst of the full 
 tones of a pack of hounds, you would never forget the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 63 
 
 wild and startling music. My spirited horse canglit the 
 excitement, pricked up his slender ears, and stamped 
 impatiently with his forefoot, yet obediently suffered 
 himself to be restrained by the light pressure of a finger 
 upon his rein. The barking of the dogs set the whole 
 party on the qui vive ! Every eye was strained to watch 
 for the appearance of Reynard, when he should emerge 
 from the ravine. Some of the young gentlemen galloped 
 "like mad" to the south of it, while others swept round 
 to the north of it. I kept at the colonel's side, who 
 remained in "our first position," as Monsieur Cheffier, 
 the dancing master, says. "Look! There he goes!" 
 shouted half a score of eager voices, and the fox appeared 
 in full view to all eyes, scampering out of the thicket, 
 and taking a direction straight for us ladies ! 
 
 "Your whips — lash him as he passes!" shouted the 
 colonel to us. "We must turn him back, and not let 
 him get into the wood, or the sport is up. The fox came 
 gallantly on, as if either he did not care for us, or did 
 not see us. The colonel kept urging "us to whip at 
 him," and turn him. We three ladies, therefore, placed 
 our horses right across the only way by which he could 
 reach the wood, and prepared to do battle bravely, we 
 being the only persons on that side of the field; the rest 
 of the party having spread themselves over the field, ex- 
 pecting the fox to emerge from cover in a different 
 direction from that which he took. 
 
 I must confess I felt some trepidation as I saw the 
 fox, which was a large one, making as straight as an 
 arrow for my horse. My riding whip was not very long, 
 but I prepared to use it as valiantly as I could. 
 
64 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 "He makes for you, Miss Kate! Don't let him pass 
 under your horse," shouted the colonel. 
 
 In three leaps the fox was within six feet of my steed, 
 and was passing, or rather aiming to pass under him, 
 when I hit him smartly with my ivory-handled whip. 
 The blow had the effect of checking his leap, so far as to 
 give it another direction, and that was over the horse. 
 A snarl — a showing of teeth — a dreadful horrid scram- 
 ble with sharp claws, right up the flank of my horse, 
 and over my saddle — a sweep of his brush in my face — 
 and he was off upon the ground on the other side, with 
 my green veil entangled about his head and forefeet ! 
 
 " We have him ! You've fought bravely. Miss Kate. 
 He's meshed!" shouted several of the gentlemen. "Was 
 any thing ever done handsomer ? Never saw a bolder 
 leap than that in a fox !" 
 
 The fox was indeed fairly meshed ! the veil blinding 
 and fettering him so hard that he did nothing but roll 
 over and over, spit and snarl, like twenty cats tied up 
 in a sack ! The colonel leaped from his horse and ap- 
 proached him with his whip. The other gentlemen did 
 the same as fast as they reached the spot. The negroes 
 yelled and laughed with obstreperous joy at the pickle 
 " Massa Fox was in." But Reynard was not yet cap- 
 tured. He now began to tumble and struggle for life so 
 fearfully, that he released one foot from my poor, torn 
 veil, and, thus relieved in part, he managed, by the most 
 extraordinary somersets, to travel at a pace difficult for 
 the gentlemen to keep up with, laughing, too, as they all 
 were, at his perplexity, which was comical enough. The 
 progress of the fox was a one-legged lope, a roll, and a 
 somerset, alternately, varied by a yelp at every new 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 65 
 
 change in his extraordinary locomotion. He got a dozen 
 blows with the whips, but still marvelouslj kept ahead 
 of his pursuers, till at length he tumbled blindly into a 
 deep hole, out of which a tree had been taken, when the 
 dogs plunged in upon him and strangled him. The 
 brush was brought to me as a trophy, the gentlemen de- 
 claring that I was his captor. I, however, referred that 
 honor to my poor veil, which was torn and soiled most 
 pitiful to behold. The colonel has, since that adventure, 
 dubbed me as " The lady of the veiled fox." 
 
 Kate. 
 
66 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 My dear Sir : — 
 
 I do not recollect whether in my former letter, I 
 have mentioned the rural little Gothic chapel which is on 
 the estate. It was erected at the private expense of the 
 noble-hearted Christian gentleman who is its proprietor. 
 The model is borrowed from an exquisite chapel which 
 
 the colonel saw on the estate of the Earl of C , when 
 
 he was in England. The situation of our chapel is ro- 
 mantic ; and, being seen from all parts of the plantation, 
 is an interesting feature in the scenery. It is about 
 fifty-five feet long and built of stone ; with turrets and 
 mullioned Gothic windows of stained glass, and a floor 
 of Tennessee marble. Its site is upon the verge of a 
 green plantation, which overhangs the brook, and is, in 
 its turn, overhung by a projecting spur of the lion's 
 cliif. Majestic oaks embrace it, and ivy is trained up its 
 walls. A broad lawn, crossed by graveled paths, sur- 
 rounds it. These paths lead : one to the villa, one to the 
 next plantation, and one to the African village where 
 the slaves reside ; for, be it knowii to you, that this 
 beautiful chapel, the cost of which was $3000, has been 
 built for the slaves of the estate. The body of the chapel 
 is reserved for them, while in a gallery above the en- 
 trance are four pews, two on each side of the organ, in 
 which the colonel's family, and sometimes the families 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOxAIE. 67 
 
 of one or two of the neighboring planters, sit during ser- 
 vice. Tliis is performed every Sabbath morning by a 
 gray-headed gentleman, who acts as lay reader, and on 
 week days occupies himself in teaching the classics to 
 two sons of a gentleman who lives two miles off. For 
 his services on Sunday the colonel gives him a salary. 
 
 The second Sunday after I came here I was invited to 
 attend service in the chapel with the family. Upon 
 entering it, I found the body of the floor occupied by the 
 black men and women of the plantation, seated in chairs 
 with the utmost decency and quiet, and all neatly and 
 cleanly attired. We took our seats in the gallery, while 
 Isabel placed herself at the organ to play a voluntary. 
 Until the old gentleman who officiated entered, I had 
 time to look at the interior of this bijou of a church. On 
 the right of the chancel was an exquisite group of statuary, 
 executed in Italy expressly for this chapel by the colonel's 
 order, at an expense of §800. It represented the Ma- 
 donna and her child. The design was full of taste and ar- 
 tistic excellencies. On the opposite side was a table of the 
 purest white marble, surmounted by a dove with its w^ngs 
 extended. It was a memento of the death of a little son 
 of the colonel. There were no pews in the body of the 
 church, only low chairs of oak, a chair to each worshiper, 
 with an aisle between. 
 
 The service was very solemn ; and my Puritanic ob- 
 jections to praying from a prayer-book, have been 
 wholly removed by this day's experience. The singing 
 was very remarkable. The African women all sing well, 
 having naturally soft voices ; with the organ, and full 
 fifty fine voices swelling in harmony w^ith it, the effect 
 was very fine. "Is it possible," I asked myself, ''that 
 
GS THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 tliese are slaves ? Is it possible that this rich voice 
 "whicli leads in such manly tones is their master's ? Is it 
 possible that the fair girl who unites, by an accompani- 
 ment upon the organ, her praise with theirs, is one of 
 the ' haughty daughters of the South ?'" 
 
 The responses were all full and timely ; for the slaves 
 soon learn words by ear ; and many of them go through 
 the whole service, save the psalter, without a mistake. 
 The sermon, which was printed, was read well by the 
 elderly layman ; it was simple, suitable, and practical. 
 After service, the gray-headed old slaves stood respect- 
 fully without the door, and, with uncovered heads, bowed 
 to the colonel and ladies, the latter of whom stopped to 
 speak to some of them, and to make kind inquiries of the 
 old ''aunties," as all old female slaves are aifectionately 
 termed, as the term "uncle" is applied to the old m.en. 
 I have seen a good deal of the African race since I have 
 been here, and I am persuaded that they are far more reli- 
 giously disposed than the lower and middle class of whites. 
 There are but four negroes on the colonel's plantation, 
 that are not ''members" of the church, and who do not 
 try to square their lives with the precepts of the Gospel 
 so far as they understand them. This is the case, I learn, 
 on all the neighboring plantations, and I am informed 
 by intelligent persons that it is more or less so through- 
 out the whole South. It would thus seem, that God, in 
 his providence, has permitted slavery to be the instrument 
 of christianizing Africa, by bringing Africa to Christian 
 shores ; and colonization by re-action on the shores of 
 Africa, is completing the mysterious dispensation. 
 
 I have an amusing incident to relate of which our 
 chapel was last Sunday the scene. The annual visita- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 69 
 
 tion of the Bishop being, expected, the venerable lay- 
 reader got ready some twenty adults to be confirmed, 
 and forty children to be baptized. The Bishop duly 
 arrived, accompanied by two clergymen. Our little 
 chapel, you may be assured, felt quite honored with the 
 presence of such distinguished visitors. There were 
 several neighboring families present, who, with ours, 
 quite filled the gallery. 
 
 When the time came to baptize them, the marble font 
 being filled with fair water, the black babies were brought 
 up by their ebony papas. The colonel stood sponsor for 
 the boys, and his sister, an excellent and witty maiden 
 lady, for the girls. 
 
 " What is his name?" asked a clergyman who was to 
 baptize, taking in his arms a little inky ball of ebony 
 infancy with a pair of white, shining eyes. 
 
 "Alexander de Great, massa!" 
 
 I saw a smile pass from face to face of the reverend 
 gentlemen in the chancel. The babe was duly baptized. 
 
 "What name?" he demanded of another Congo papa. 
 
 " General Jackson, massa !" and by this name the lit- 
 tle barbarian was duly made a Christian. 
 
 "What name?" " AValter Scott!" "What name?" 
 "Peter Simple!" "What name?" "Napoleon Bona- 
 parte!" Splash went the water upon its face, and an- 
 other ebony succeeded. His name was "Potiphar." 
 Another's was "Pharaoh." Another was christened 
 "General Twiggs;" another " Polk and Dallas;" another 
 "General Taylor;" indeed, every General in the Ame- 
 rican army was honored, while "Jupiter," "Mars," 
 "Apollo Belvidere," and "NIcodemus," m\l give you 
 a specimen of the rest of the names. The female in- 
 
70 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 fants received such names as '' Queen Victoria," " Lady 
 Morgan," ''Lady Jane Grey," "Madame de Stael," 
 "Zenobia," "Venus," "Juno," "Vesta," "Miss Mar- 
 tineau, " " Fanny Wright, " " Juliana Johnson, ' ' and 
 "Coal Black Rose." The water in the font, greasy 
 and blackened by the process of baptizing so many 
 black babies, had to be twice removed and replaced by 
 fresh. The Bishop could scarcely keep his countenance 
 as name after name was given, and the assistant clergy- 
 man twice had to leave the church, I verily believe, to 
 prevent laughing in the church. The whole of this 
 scandalous naming originated in the merry brain of the 
 colonel's sister. Of course, the clergyman had to bap- 
 tize by the name given, and the whole scene was irre- 
 sistible. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 71 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Dear Sir : 
 
 On Saturday last we all rode into the city, which, 
 as I have told you, is about two and a half hours' fast 
 driving: from Overton Park. The road is a smooth 
 turnpike, and runs through a beautiful country of field 
 and woodland, hill and dale. The landscape is con- 
 stantly varied and constantly interesting. Numerous 
 pretty villas lined the road, which being much used, was 
 thronged with carriages and horsemen. 
 
 The number of gentlemen we found on horseback 
 would be matter of surprise to a Northerner, who usually 
 rides only in a gig. A Southerner seldom trusts him- 
 self inside of a carriage. If his wife rides out in her 
 finely-appointed barouche, he canters well-mounted by 
 the carriage window. I believe the Tennessee gentle- 
 man looks upon it as decidedly efi"eminate to be seen 
 taking his ease in a cushioned carriage. 
 
 On the way w^e passed the site of an old fort, where 
 the army of Jackson encamped before marching to New 
 Orleans. A few yards from the ramparts, the place 
 where a man Avas shot for desertion, was pointed out to 
 me. It is a sweet-looking, green spot, and calls up any 
 otlier associations than those of bloodshed. 
 
 The Hermitage where Andrew Jackson, jr., now re- 
 sides, was not many miles from us. It is a good-looking 
 
72 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 mansion with a portico, and surrounded by lawns and 
 gardens. At the fpot of the garden is visible, through 
 foliage, the snow-white tomb of the hero and statesman. 
 
 I was charmed with the beauty of the scenery on 
 both sides of our road. The whole landscape undulated 
 like a mighty green sea. About two miles from Nash- 
 ville a hill commands a fine view of it. We stopped to 
 gaze upon it as it rose, crowning a sort of lofty island 
 amid a valley, the Cumberland flowing on the east side. 
 The view was exceedingly fine and imposing. For every 
 roof there was a tree, and what with alternate terraces 
 of foliage and porticoes, with the domes and spires rising 
 above all, I was so struck with admiration that I wished 
 for a painter's pencil to transfer the noble picture to 
 canvass. 
 
 The highest portion of the city is distinguished by a 
 large mansion cresting it like a coronet. This was the 
 residence of the late President Polk, now occupied by 
 his estimable widow, who, I am told, has shut herself up, 
 a prey to inconsolable grief ever since the death of her 
 distinguished husband. From the distance at which we 
 were viewing the house, I could see that the large co- 
 lumns were craped with black. 
 
 Nashville has been celebrated for its gaiety, its wealth, 
 its luxury, its sociability, and the beauty of its females. 
 I was not disappointed in the latter. As we approached 
 the city, we met at least fifty carriages driving out for 
 the usual evening ride, for which these people are so 
 famous. In nearly every one of them I beheld one or 
 more lovely faces. We met also a large cavalcade of 
 school girls mounted on pretty ponies, and every face 
 was handsome. So it was after we entered the city, and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 7S 
 
 went among the shops. All the girls we met were 
 pretty; and especially, we noticed an unusual number 
 of genteel, lovely widows; for men live faster than wo- 
 men, and die early. 
 
 The equipages of the city are numerous, and some of 
 them handsome. They drive fast, and usually in open 
 carriages. 
 
 Before leaving the city, which carries elegance and 
 taste to a high degree, we paid a visit to the Capitol, 
 which is one-third completed. It is a majestic new ruin 
 in its present aspect, and by moonlight must remind 
 travelers from Italy of a Roman temple, half dismantled. 
 Mr. Wm. Strickland is the architect. It has been four 
 years in building, and will not be completed in five more. 
 Its cost will be $2,000,000. The material is a white 
 limestone, with delicately "watered" veins. When com- 
 pleted it will be the finest edifice in the Union, without 
 exception. 
 
 Crowning a clifi" that rises like an island rock from 
 the heart of the city, it will have very much the appear- 
 ance of the Castle at Edinburgh, and be a distin- 
 guished mark for the eye for leagues around. I was 
 never more disappointed than I was in the air and style 
 of the city. Everything indicates taste, and the uses 
 of wealth. There is as much fashion here as in New 
 York ; and the ladies dress far more than anywhere else 
 I have been. Jewelry is much worn, even in the street, 
 and especially at church. Hiding on horseback is very 
 fashionable, and the costume a eheval is elegant and re- 
 cherche. The dwellings are richly furnished. One 
 house I passed, built after the plan of the Borghesd 
 Palace at Rome, is furnished throughout with furniture 
 
74 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 made to order in Paris, and is adorned with European 
 pictures and statuary. 
 
 The churches of this city are not handsome or impos- 
 ing. And who do you suppose I heard read the service, 
 
 the last Sabbath I was in town ? Mr. H , once an 
 
 author, who has been for two years past studying for 
 orders in the church. He is also principal of an Academy 
 for young ladies in the city, a position which he holds 
 temporarily, until he shall be ordained. I trust he will 
 be eminently useful as a clergyman. 
 
 Speaking of authors, what a change has come over 
 the literary sky ! Star after star disappears or falls from 
 it; Mellen is dead; Bryant writes not; Halleck will 
 write no more; Hoffman has changed his poet's pen to 
 an accompter's ; Bird is a politician ; Simms has become 
 an editor and historian; Poe, poor Mr. Poe, is dead! 
 Hastings Weld has taken orders. Willis has almost 
 ceased to write, except editorially, and very hastily at 
 that ; for, give Mr. Willis time to polish and adorn, prune 
 and shape his sentences, and put in the pretty thoughts, 
 and his articles are faultless. No one can excel him 
 therein. But let him write currente calamo, as the col- 
 lege men say, and he is not so interesting. Morris is 
 editor, too. I hear his songs sung everywhere in the 
 West. He takes the pianos in fair rivalry with Tom 
 Moore. If he wants to know what posterity will think 
 of him, let him come out West. Willis too, is a favorite 
 this way. In a girl's school the other day, I heard two 
 of his pieces recited by two lovely girls, in a manner that 
 would have made the gentlemanly author feel, had he 
 been present, that he was well repaid for the time and 
 care of their composition. I heard, at the same time, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 75 
 
 a dark-eyed Grecian looking maiden recite, with pathos 
 and fine taste, Halleck's Marco Bozzaris. The voice of 
 the West is the echo of posterity. 
 
 There are no poets among the men West, save Pren- 
 tice ; and few females who write. There is much said of 
 the playful genius of southern women, and the fertile 
 imagination of the men ; but these produce but few au- 
 thors. Amelia of Kentucky is almost the only one 
 known. There is far more poetical talent in cold New 
 England, than in the sunny West. Portland is pecu- 
 liarly favorable to this development, I have heard. It 
 has produced Mrs. Stephens, Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes 
 Smith, the most imaginative of American poetesses; 
 Longfellow who will long be remembered by his noble 
 "Psalm of Life;" Mellen, the forgotten, and others. 
 What country colder than Sweden — what genius greater 
 than that of that sweet writer, Frederika Bremer ! 
 
 It seems to me that the American press is putting 
 forth nothing new from American authors. Our writers 
 seem all to have turned Magazine writers.* 
 
 By the way, French is much studied here, and forms 
 a part of every young lady's education. It strikes me 
 
 Mr. , that if you would add a French department to 
 
 your other headings in your paper, it would be very well 
 received by the thousand school misses into whose hands 
 your paper falls. I would suggest the regular publication 
 of well written moral French tales, or letters, with an 
 exactly literal translation in the opposite column. It 
 would be quite as acceptable to numerous contributors, 
 as charades, and aid them in their French, while it will 
 
 * These letters were written from 1852 to 1855. 
 
76 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 improve their minds. I think it would be an interest- 
 ing, as well as a new feature in your columns. 
 
 This being the last of the test letters I was to write 
 you, to see whether you should judge me fit to be a con 
 tributor "on remuneration," I shall write no further 
 till I learn the decision of your august tribunal. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 4 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 77 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 Mr. : 
 
 Your very kind letter of the 1st inst., conveying to 
 me the unhoped for, but welcome intelligence, that you 
 have decided to enlist me among your corps of contribu- 
 tors, was duly received. I know not how, adequately, to 
 express to you, the deep gratitude of my heart, for this 
 decision ; for I feel that it was given rather through your 
 kind generosity, than through any merit which my un- 
 fledged pen could lay claim to. I shall, therefore, do 
 my best to show you how deeply I appreciate your good- 
 ness, and resolve that my "Needles" shall be always 
 sharp withal, that you shall never have cause to regret 
 your decision in my favor. 
 
 My simple goose quill already begins to feel its dignity, 
 held in an authoress's fingers ! It bristles its snowy mane 
 and curves its polished neek with the pride of an Arabian 
 courser. It realizes its importance. It feels that it is 
 possible that one day it may be knocked off at an auc- 
 tion of "rare curiosities," for not less than ten golden 
 eagles, as authors' stump pens have been before to-day. 
 My inkstand, which is a lion couchant, with the ink in 
 his ears, seems to raise his majestic head with unwonted 
 dignity as he yields it to the thirsty pen. The very 
 paper is eloquent in its spotless robes, and seems to say: 
 "Remember thou art an authoress, and be careful what 
 
78 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 you trace upon me, for tliy words may be immortal I" 
 Oh, the sweet, trembling, timid, happy feeling of author- 
 ship ! How the heart bounds at the sight of our first 
 thoughts, which we know (yet hardly realize it; have 
 been made visible to the eyes of other in type ! We 
 think little of seeing our own ideas ivritten; hut j^rinted, 
 they create sensations indescribable, half delight, half 
 awe, a mingled state of bliss and fear, that none who 
 have not been ^' in print," can ever experience. 
 
 I suppose the young merchant, who, for the^rs^ time, 
 sees his name heading his showy advertisement in the 
 morning paper, or gazes from the opposite side of the 
 way upon it painted upon his sign in gold letters, upon a 
 blue ground, experiences pleasure, novel and strange. 
 But this emotion is not to be compared vfith that of the 
 author, who, for the first time, sees the copy of the deep, 
 hitherto unspoken, unconfided thoughts of his soul legible 
 in type to every eye! His tJiougJtts thus made public, 
 are more than a mere painted name, they are a j)a7't of 
 himself, a ray of the outgoings of his spirit ! It is like 
 beholding himself with an introverted mirror ! Therefore, 
 the poet loves his verses, after has subsided his first awe 
 and surprise at beholding them in print, (which a little 
 time before he had found dwelling in the bottom of his 
 soul's deep being,) loves them as a man, with all his faults, 
 loves himself! 
 
 Who then will laugh at the dullest rhymer for being 
 enamored with his own verses ? We might as well laugh 
 at him for loving himself. He thinks his verses as good 
 as his talk, and what man was ever persuaded that he 
 did not talk well ; or else all bad talkers would be for- 
 ever silent ! When we can convince a poor talker that 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 79 
 
 ho is a poor talker, then -will appear the Eighth wonder, 
 viz: a poor poet convinced that he is a poor poet. His 
 poetry, like his conversation, is himself, and himself 
 like China on the "Celestial" map, is the centre of the 
 universe. 
 
 Novf from what I have said, good Mr. , you will 
 
 be fairly persuaded that, write I ever so stupidly, it will 
 be useless in you or anybody else, to attempt to impress 
 upon my mind a healthy sense of stupidity. This is, 
 therefore, throwing doAvn the gauntlet to you and the 
 critics, (if such a little bird as I be worthy of their aim,) 
 not to make the attempt to enlighten my intellectual 
 twilight. I have to thank some friendly pen for a letter 
 addressed to me in your columns ; although it appears to 
 come from a juvenile author, it is, nevertheless, wortliy 
 of my attentive recognition, as an evidence that some 
 warm heart seeks to express its approving sense of my 
 brief literary attempts. I have also seen a pretty poem, 
 addressed to me, which, albeit, something bold and 
 school-boyish in its audacity, yet it is frank and hearty in 
 its tone, and the writer merits my thanks for his kind 
 wishes. Speaking of poetry, reminds me how little t7'ue 
 poetry there is written now-a-days. Some one has said 
 that there are fifteen hundred papers printed in the 
 Union ; in most of these, weekly, appear one or more pieces 
 of original poetry, say twelve hundred perpetrations 
 rhythmical, per week, which multiplied by 52, the num- 
 ber of weeks in a year, would give the amazing number 
 of 60,000 pieces of original poetry, printed in our news- 
 paper columns in a year ! Of these not more than sixty 
 annually are worth preserving or republishing, that is, 
 one in a thousand! What a despairing computation! 
 
80 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 I am half afraid that, by flaring to have made it, I shall 
 be the innocent cause of driving some hundreds of these 
 ambitious poets to running themselves through the heart 
 with their steel pens, or taking ink inwardly. 
 
 I have been recently looking over the *' Male and Fe- 
 male Poets of America," and I cannot lay my finger on 
 a score of poems of which I could unhesitatingly say, 
 "- That is imperishable !" Most of the poems of our book 
 poets, like the editorials of editors, have fulfilled their 
 destiny when once in print. Longfellow has written two 
 pieces, his Psalm of Life, and the noble verses in which 
 the Union is finely metaphored as a builded ship of oak 
 and iron, which will weather all time. Bryant's Thana- 
 topsis, (if he will revise and strengthen by condensing it 
 here and there,) will never cease to be admired so long 
 as men are born to die. • Halleck's Marco Bozzaris, it 
 seems to me, holds in suspension the elements of undy- 
 ing life. Simms in the South is a noble poet. One or 
 more songs of the lyric poet, Morris, and two or three 
 of Willis's sacred pieces, are imperishable so long as 
 nature and veneration remain the same as they now are 
 in the human breast. Besides these, I can find none 
 that give promise of surviving the ages to come ! We 
 have written a great deal for the nineteenth century, 
 but scarcely any thing for the twenty-fifth ! What is 
 literary immortality ? Do our poets know what it means^ 
 that each expects it? It is the thoughts of one or two 
 individual men surviving the oblivion of 800,000,000 
 of men, their contemporaries. For of every generation 
 of 800,000,000 of men in all ages past, but two or three 
 have left their names or works to us ! It is but a twenty 
 minutes' task to enumerate all the immortal writers of 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 81 
 
 all nations, from Moses to Chaucer. Thej are hardly 
 as many for 3000 years as appear in the monthly pub- 
 lished list of letters in a city newspaper ! They are one 
 living man to a hundred millions dead! Who, then, 
 shall dare to prophesy for his productions, or for his 
 name, immortality? Who shall be so vain as to take 
 offence when it is questioned if after the 800,000,000 
 now on earth have been two thousand years dead, he 
 himself, or aught that he has written, though he be 
 embalmed in Griswold's "Doomsday Book," shall be 
 remembered ! Immortality ! Perpetuity of memory in 
 the hearts of the myriads of the mighty future ! For 
 whose single brow, now on earth, shall the men of the 
 year 6000 wreath the laureled crown? Whose name, 
 of those millions of men who walk the city streets to- 
 day, shall the youths and maidens to be born twelve 
 hundred years hence, have familiarly on their lips, as 
 we have the names of Homer, of Virgil, of Shakespeare, 
 of Milton, of David ? Immortality ! How few under- 
 stand thy meaning when they speak of thee ! You will 
 
 see, dear Mr. , that I have very little hopes of being 
 
 immortalized through my pen ! I confess the chances 
 are against me, 800,000,000 to 1. You have, therefore, 
 the unique satisfaction of having a contributor who never 
 expects to be quoted by the literati of the year 6000, 
 A. M. There is an immortality, however, which all may 
 gain— which springs from the heart, not from the intel- 
 lect—which looks to the approbation of angels, and not 
 of men— to a world that shall exist when the last year 
 of the last century of this earth shall have closed forever 
 upon all human hopes, compared with which immortality, 
 
 that of this world is but an echo. 
 6 
 
82 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 The colonel has just laid on mj tehle Ticknor's Spa- 
 nish Literature, and Emerson's ''Nature." I shall, 
 therefore, feast for the next three days. If I find any 
 thins: that strikes me as valuable in either of these 
 books, you shall have the benefit of my reading. 
 
 I have heard rifles or shot-guns cracking all the morn- 
 ing in the forest over by the tarn, and therefore judge 
 the game to be abundant. To-morrow I am going deer- 
 hunting ! I don't mean to be so cruel as to kill (for I 
 can shoot, Mr. , and hit too !) the pretty white- 
 breasted does, or the majestic stag, with his proud, an- 
 tlered head tossing in the air ! Yet, I am all curiosity 
 to witness a hunt. 
 
 Good-bye, sir, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 8S 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Mr. : 
 
 My dear sir, did you ever shoot a deer? But I 
 dare say you don't have deer to shoot in Independence 
 Square ! Do you think it would be cruel to kill one if 
 you had them there? One week ago I was innocent of 
 the blood of any one of these pretty, brown animals ; 
 but, alas ! I am sorry to confess that I have shot a deer 
 since I last wrote you, and although it is not dead, I 
 feel as badly as if I had wounded a helpless, human be- 
 ing. Its reproachful, pleading look, as it turned its 
 large, intelligent eybs upon me, I can never forget ! I 
 will tell you how it happened. 
 
 The colonel had been invited to ^'Chestnut Ridge," 
 seven miles from the Park, by an old military friend, 
 who is as keen a sportsman as Nimrod ever was, to hunt 
 deer. The invitation was accepted, and Isabel and my- 
 self were taken along with the gallant colonel to witness 
 the sport ! Sad sport to see the innocent animals that so 
 grace the glade of the green forest slaughtered ! Rising 
 with the dawn, we took an early breakfast, and mounted 
 our horses just as the sun, like a wheel of gold, rolled 
 up the east. I was no longer mounted on the spirited 
 and pretty little mule, which played me such a runaway 
 prank last November, but rode a handsome black pony, 
 with a long tail and a magnificent mane, and the smallest 
 
84 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 ears conceivable. His pace was as gentle as a cradle, 
 and he stepped over the grass, as if he trod on velvet 
 in a drawing-room. The colonel rode a noble charger, 
 of a dark-bay color, with a neck arched and proud, like 
 a war-horse ; and such he was, for the colonel had rid- 
 den him into many a battle strife on the fields of Mexico. 
 The superb animal, as he pawed the earth and pranced 
 alono; through the woodlands, seemed still " to smell the 
 battle afar off, and the thunder of the captains and the 
 shouting." What grace and strength w^ere united in him ! 
 
 Next to man, the horse is unquestionably the noblest 
 created thing. But of all majestic forms conceivable to 
 human imagination, I have never seen any thing that 
 equals that mighty tri-formed figure to be found por- 
 trayed in Layard's Nineveh. I mean the sublime form 
 composed of a body of a lion, of the wings of an eagle, 
 and of the face of a man. No one can gaze upon it with- 
 out admiration and awe. It represents strength, fleet- 
 ness, and intelligence embodied, and the result is a 
 creature that rivals in dignity, majesty, and glory, and 
 symmetry, man himself! 
 
 But I am running away from my party. Isabel, the 
 beautiful, Spanish-looking Isabel, rode by her father's 
 left hand, mounted upon a mottled palfrey that seemed 
 formed especially for herself. His small head, his trans- 
 parent, pink nostrils, his slender fetlocks as neat as a 
 lady's ankle, his dainty footfall, as his deerlike hoofs 
 picked out the smoothest w^ay for his mistress, were all 
 characteristics of the Arabian race, from -which it claimed 
 lineage. What decided aristocracy there is in the horse ! 
 They differ as widely from each other as men do, and 
 how widely these are separate in excellency of lineage ! 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 85 
 
 There is nobility of birth as there is vulgarity of birth ! 
 There are gentlemen who are gentlemen by nature. 
 I am not a believer in the axiom that all men are born 
 equal, and that education, or the want of it, makes men 
 equal. There is gentility and refinement of feature that 
 education cannot give, and there is vulgarity of feature 
 that education cannot ennoble. When a double-headed, 
 double-jointed plough-horse, or any of its kith, can be 
 educated to win a Derby cup, then I shall believe that a 
 vulgar mind and a vulgar face can, by education, be re- 
 fined and ennobled. We had a merry ride of it through 
 the grand woods ! How we laughed till echo laughed 
 again. One can be as noisy as one pleases in the coun- 
 try. There was a white frost on the ground, and the 
 crisp grass crashed and crackled as we pressed its crystal 
 spears. The birds (for many birds dwell in the forest 
 here all the year round) were singing to the morning with 
 gladness in their tiny breasts ; the squirrel bounded 
 from limb to limb, or raced with nimble feet across the 
 sward, and darted up some tall trunk, going higher and 
 higher, and carefully keeping on the side opposite to us ; 
 for they are a cunning wee thing, with their bushy tails 
 arched over their round backs, and their twinkling, pretty 
 eyes as watchful as weasels. There was no regular forest 
 path, but we threaded the wood at will, for the trees 
 grew far asunder, and the total absence of underbrush 
 made it like park-land. The surface of the country 
 was undulating and picturesque. At one time we would 
 descend to a gurgling brook rushing hoarsely away from 
 the rocks in its bed, and, fording its translucent waters 
 at another time, find ourselves at the top of a ridge that 
 opened to us a far spread river view. 
 
86 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 In our ride of five miles we met but three persons. 
 One of these was an old African with a head as white as 
 wool^ and a face, venerable and lined with age, and a snowy 
 beard. His appearance was striking, and reminded me 
 of a black patriarch, especially as he wore a gray blanket 
 over his shoulder like a mantle. And let me remark, 
 that a blanket completes a negro's winter costume 
 here ; sometimes it is made into a coat, but more fre- 
 quently, for the advantage of having it as a covering 
 at night, worn entire, like a shawl, or a Spanish poncho. 
 The African was leading a tall Congo stripling, half-naked 
 to the waist, wdio had a hanging countenance, as if he 
 were an offender of some sort. 
 
 " That is old Juba with his grandson Tom, tied," said 
 the colonel, as they drew near. ''Tom has been playing 
 the runaway in the woods these three weeks. So, uncle 
 Juba," added the colonel in the kind, familiar tone in 
 which masters here, who are gentlemen, address their old 
 slaves ; "so you've caught Tom ?" 
 
 " Ees, mosse, me cotch de berry bad boy ! He nebber 
 raise heself for noting good uf he get de habit ob runnin* 
 'way dis way ! Old Juba feel berry shame ob him. Me 
 gib him frashun, me git him home. He disgrace to de 
 family ! Come 'long, you nigger, a'n't you shame youself, 
 run off in de wood like a dog-tief?" 
 
 With this appeal, the old man gave the thong a jerk, 
 and, touching his old hat in respectful homage to his 
 master and to ourselves as "young mississes," dragged 
 his ragamuffin grandson of eighteen years on the way 
 back to the plantation. 
 
 "That old negro," said the colonel, as w^c rode on, 
 " has been in my family seventy-eight years. He w^as 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 87 
 
 bought by my grandfather before the Revolution from 
 an African trader that came into Jamestown with a load 
 of slaves from the coast of Africa. He was then a lad 
 of fourteen, and is of course now ninety-two ; yet he is 
 never idle, is active and faithful, and is a sort of patri- 
 arch over the rest of the slaves, half of whom are his 
 descendants. He has not yet forgotten his African lan- 
 guage, which he still speaks when he is vexed, nor has 
 he dropped his heathenish superstitions. He wears about 
 his neck full half a dozen charms of one sort or another, 
 and is a firm believer in the devil, whom he says he has 
 seen bodily a hundred times. His influence over the 
 negroes is very extraordinary. They stand in awe of 
 him. His grandson, you see, is a tall, stout fellow, and 
 miglit get away from him ; but he would as soon think 
 of striking the old man as resisting his authority. 
 
 We had not ridden more than a mile after parting 
 with Juba and his captive, when we saw a figure standing 
 as motionless as a statue in the forest ahead of us. The 
 attitude was free and commanding, and a nearer ap- 
 proach showed us that it was an Indian. He was lean- 
 ing on his rifle. He wore a sort of coronet, made of 
 brass, encircling his crow-black head, and ornamented 
 with crow and eagle's feathers. He was dressed in a 
 blue frock, trimmed with tarnished gold lace, and belted 
 close to his body by a stout leathern cincture. Hanging 
 upon his brawny chest were several silver medals. On 
 his left wrist were five hoops or bracelets of brass, close 
 together, and being riveted on whole, were evidently 
 meant to be worn till his death. He wore deer-skin leg- 
 gins, the seams fringed, and his feet were encased in 
 once handsomely ornamented moccasins, which had seen 
 
88 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 service. In his belt were a powder-horn, a long knife 
 in a sheath of serpent's skin, a pouch for balls, flints, &c, 
 and another large one for miscellaneous articles. His 
 rifle was very long, slender, without any groove-stock 
 for the barrel to rest in, and had a flint lock. I had 
 time to observe all these particulars, for we stopped and 
 held some minutes' "talk" with the warrior; for warrior 
 he w^as, having fought under General Jackson long years 
 agone; and two of the medals suspended from his neck 
 were bestowed upon him, the colonel said, by the "hero." 
 The Indian was full sixty years of age, but time had 
 scarcely whitened a hair of his lofty head. Proud, stern, 
 dignified as a king, he neither moved nor regarded us as 
 we rode up to him. 
 
 ^•Good morning, Captain John," said the colonel; "a 
 fine day for the deer ! You seem to be on the chase as 
 well as we!" 
 
 The Indian chief smiled at hearing the courteous and 
 bland words of the colonel, and answered in a deep bary- 
 tone, that completely came up to my idea of a "manly 
 voice." 
 
 "Ya, w^hite chief! Good morn'! Deer not much 
 plenty ! Good day hunt, but deer not much plenty ! 
 White man leave no more deer for Indian rifle!" and he 
 slowly shook his head, cast his eyes sadly to the earth, 
 and remained silent. 
 
 "Why do you and your people not remove west, 
 chief?" asked the colonel. " You will find vast hunting 
 grounds there — no white man will intrude upon you— 
 you can there be happy and powerful !" 
 
 "Indian never more be groat, white chief!" responded 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 89 
 
 the old warrior, with a heavy cloud darkening the noble 
 outline of his Washington like features. 
 
 As he spoke, he turned and strode away with the air 
 and bearing of Forrest as Metamora, save that the one 
 is imitation, and the other nature. 
 
 "Who is that noble looking chief?" I inquired of 
 the colonel, for his sullen pride and solitary condition 
 had inspired me with a curiosity to know his history. 
 
 "That is the celebrated Creek chief Nelastora," was 
 his reply, as we resumed our ride, while the chief disap- 
 peared in the depths of the woodland. "He was an ally 
 of Jackson's in the Indian wars, and was of great assist- 
 ance to the cause. The encroachments of civilization 
 upon his hunting grounds, which were once a hundred 
 miles in extent through this region, have compelled most 
 of his tribe to remove to the west of the Mississippi. 
 But he and a few of his friends refuse to go. He has 
 sworn, I am told, upon the graves of his fathers, that he 
 will never desert them, but remain to protect and die 
 upon them ! And he will keep his word. Sometimes he 
 is seen a hundred miles south of this, but he is never 
 long absent from the central seat of his tribe, which is a 
 beautiful valley thirty miles to the east and south of us. 
 I have before met him in the forest, but he refused all 
 offers of hospitality, and will cross the threshold of no 
 white man. Crockett and this chief were once like 
 brothers, yet he never sat at the American hunter's 
 board. Three years ago, Nelastora was seen standing 
 by General Jackson's grave at the Hermitage, regarding 
 it in silence; but when he was approached, he haughtily 
 retired." 
 
 By the time the colonel had ended this historv, we 
 
90 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 were winding up an avenue that led to the mansion 
 house of the old soldier, whom we had visited for the 
 purpose of hunting deer with him. 
 
 On either hand, the ancient woods were replaced by 
 broad cotton fields, which at this season were unplanted. 
 A quarter of a mile from the house, a white gate, thrown 
 open by half a dozen little shining-eyed negroes, con- 
 ducted us to the grounds more immediately contiguous 
 with the house, viz : a wide rolling lawn, adorned at in- 
 tervals with native fruit trees. We approached the 
 verandah of the house at a hard gallop, and were re- 
 ceived by our military host with a hearty old-fashioned 
 hospitality, that could only be exceeded by the polished 
 courtesy of his manners. He kissed both Isabel and 
 
 me! But then, Mr. , he was full fifty-nine, had 
 
 gray whiskers, and — and he always made it a point of 
 kissing all pretty young ladies that came to see him. So, 
 unless you are fifty-nine, and have gray whiskers, you 
 mustn't presume upon this circumstance to think — to 
 think — ^you may end the sentence yourself, if you please. 
 
 Good bye, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 91 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 Please present my smiling thanks to your talented 
 correspondent " Rusticus," of Wilmington, for his grace- 
 ful verses addressed to me. I feel flattered by his com- 
 pliments, while I blush that I am not more deserving of 
 them. The thought is singularly pleasing to me, that 
 the crude efforts of my untutored pen find readers who 
 sympathize with and understand me. These kind per- 
 sons are all my friends henceforward ! I see them with 
 the eyes of my spirit, and embrace them with my heart. 
 One day, if not on earth, we shall meet in heaven, and 
 recognize each other, and be friends in sweet communion 
 forever. 
 
 When I by chance meet here, in this poor world, a 
 kindred being, whom to know and love is happiness, I 
 think how many such gentle and good ones the world 
 contains, whom I shall never see on earth ! When this 
 thought comes over my spirit, I feel sad that we must 
 pass away unknown to each other ; but the bright world 
 seen by faith beyond this reassures me, and I take cour- 
 age and rejoice, believing that in the spaces of eternity 
 all who are shaped in the same mould of love will find 
 each other, and so the beautiful, and good, and lovely 
 of earth, though on earth I meet them not, are not for- 
 ever lost to me. Is not this a thought to make the lone 
 
92 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 heart strong? But I must tell you about my deer-hunt. 
 Eusticus seems to question the truth of the account of 
 the fox-hunt, but if he had spent a few days in this re- 
 gion of adventure, he would not hedge in his credulity 
 so closely. Pray, why may not a lady have adventures, 
 and dashing ones, too, as well as the ''Lords?" Be- 
 shrew me, but the esprit du camj) is not all under the 
 round hat ! I know a young lady not six miles from the 
 Park, who is a celebrated tamer of young steeds, and, 
 mounted upon their backs, whips them bravely into sub- 
 mission. Di Vernon is a tame maiden compared with 
 her. She can shoot a rifle, hit a rose-bud at ten paces 
 with a pistol, and take a partridge on the wing. I will, 
 perhaps, talk about her at another time. I must now 
 make mi/self heroine. Mr. Rusticus Doubtful, I shall 
 rap you over the knuckles, sir poet ! 
 
 I have told you, Mr. , how we were met by the 
 
 old soldier when we drew rein at his gallery. The house 
 was a long, low, rambling edifice, such as is peculiar to 
 the plantations in the South, with a light gallery sup- 
 ported by slender columns extending along the front. 
 A wide, natural lawn, dotted with huge forest-trees, ex- 
 tended around it, smooth as a green plush-carpet. On 
 it were four or five beautiful horses cropping the sweet 
 grass, two gentle-eyed, tame deer, a heady-looking goat 
 with a beard like a Jew, a little innocent lambkin with a 
 broken leg which was neatly splintered and bandaged by 
 the old soldier's own hands, and a strutting turkey-gob- 
 bler with pride enough for the Autocrat of all the Bussias, 
 and scarlet enough for a Cardinal's cap. It was a pretty, 
 quiet scene, with the golden bars of sunshine laid along 
 between the openings among the trees, and the birds 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 93 
 
 singing in the branches, which the morning wind was 
 waving and stirring with the motion of life. The ohi 
 white-whiskered warrior escorted us into his spacious 
 drawing-room, holding Isabel by one hand and me with 
 the other, like a gallant gentleman of the old school as 
 he was. We were no sooner seated, one on each side 
 of him, than a servant entered with a quaternion of 
 mint-juleps, in tall silver tumblers, a golden straw of wheat 
 projecting from each verdant pyramid a-top. Nothing 
 would do but that Isabel and I should take one. The 
 old gentleman would not be said Nay. He was one of 
 that class of men who fancy that "no" means "yes," 
 when spoken by young ladies ; nay, he even Avent so far 
 as to asseverate as much. I had to take the julep. 
 
 Just imagine me, Mr# , seated with a riding-whip in 
 
 one hand, and a mint-julep, piled up like " Ossa upon 
 Pelion," in the other, communicating with my lips by 
 the hollow tube of straw aforesaid, and imbibing like a 
 smoker his tobacco, the perfumed nectar of the distilled 
 and delicate compound. I must confess it w^as delicious ! 
 Don't tell the good temperance folks that I say so for 
 the world ! but it was truly refreshing. I didn't wish 
 to sip enough to get into my head; so, after five or six 
 charming sips, I placed the silver goblet, still full, upon 
 the salver. Do you not admire my self-denial under the 
 circumstances ? 
 
 I spent an hour admiring the pictures and curiosities 
 in the old soldier's handsomely-arranged rooms. Over 
 the mantel was a large, full length of the Hero of New 
 Orleans, at middle age, in the uniform of a colonel. It 
 was an admirable head, and struck me as the personifi- 
 cation of energy of will, a quality for which the " Gene- 
 
94 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 ral" was afterward distinguished al)ovc all other Ame- 
 ricans. 
 
 " You admire the Hero ?" said the host, as he observed 
 us closely studying the expression of the face of the 
 Iron Man of the New World. 
 
 ^' Greatly," I answered. 
 
 "He was a great man, Miss Kate!" responded the 
 soldier and companion in arms, with a liquid sparkle 
 visible in his eyes. I love to see tears in brave men's 
 eyes ! 
 
 "You knew him well, major?" I said, interrogatively. 
 
 " We were as brothers, or rather as father and son, for 
 though I am gray, he was twenty years my senior. He 
 was a lion in battle, and an eagle in pursuit. He was 
 born to command. He read men as I read a child's 
 book. They have said he was cruel. It is not true ! 
 He loved to exercise mercy. Let me tell you an anec- 
 dote to illustrate his character. A soldier had deserted 
 his post to go home to a dying father. He was arrested 
 kneeling at his father's bedside receiving his dying 
 blessing. He begged to be permitted to remain to 
 close his eyes, 'when,' he said, 'he would be ready.' He 
 was taken to the camp, then in Florida. He was 
 tried by a court-martial, and condemned to be shot. 
 The General signed his sentence of death on a drum- 
 head. I saw him do it, and I saw a tear drop, like a 
 drop of falling rain upon the hollow drum-head. But 
 those who saw not the tear, but marked only the stern 
 lines of his face, thought him unfeeling !" Here the major 
 frowned, and looked fierce to hide and keep back the 
 liquid drops that had been growing larger every moment, 
 too large for his eyes to hold; but spite of his bent 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 95 
 
 brows, they found tliclr channels and rolled, pearls of 
 price, adown his battle-browned cheeks. What are 
 tears? Can any tell what and Avhy are tears? 
 
 ''The poor man was at length led forth to execution," 
 resumed the major, who had caught one of his teaft-s slyly 
 on the back of his hand, while the other broke, as he 
 thought unobserved, upon the marble hearthstone; "the 
 detachment which was detailed to execute the sentence, 
 was drawn up about fifty paces from the general's tent. 
 The whole army were drawn up in line to witness the 
 death of the deserter. The general remained in his tent. 
 He was pacing up and down calmly and thoughtfully. 
 There wanted but a minute to the signal for death, when 
 suddenly he ordered the deserter to be brought before 
 him. The man was led blindfolded as he was to his 
 tent. 'Larnham,' said the general to the deadly pale 
 man, 'you have forfeited your life by the laws of war. 
 I therefore signed the warrant for your execution. You 
 have merited life by your filial obedience; I therefore 
 repeal the sentence of the court martial and pardon you ; 
 and may every son be as worthy of the name as you have 
 proved yourself to be!' The poor man fell at the 
 general's feet and embraced his knees, and the army 
 without hurrahed as one man ; for the fihal piety of the 
 deserter had found a responsive chord in every heart, and 
 the pardoning act awakened its echo." 
 
 There was a stand of colors in the corner of the room 
 which the mqjor had carried at the head of his battalion ; 
 and there were many ornaments around, consisting of 
 war-hatchets, bows, quivers, wampums, crests of eagle's 
 feathers, painted deer skins, fringed and embroidered, all 
 presents from Indian chiefs. The major showed me a 
 
96 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 war club \\inch was fringed with huraan liair, and which 
 he said had killed many a warrior in its day. But the 
 sight of it was revolting to my imagination. But he had 
 paintings of favorite horses and hounds, of game and 
 huntin*^ scenes, and the candelabra of his • rooms were 
 deer's antlers, with silver tops terminating the extremities 
 to hold the candles. One horned branch held tliirteen 
 sockets, which he called his Federal Chandelier. He 
 took us to one room which was literally hung around 
 with rifles, old, long, and short, and of all sizes ; pistols, 
 fowling pieces, deer's antlers, powder flasks and horns, 
 game bags, dried game, game in glass cases, and all sorts 
 of things which I could not imagine the use of, but 
 which he gravely declared were all essential to the 
 making up of a good hunter. 
 
 He would take us to his stables too, to see his blind 
 war-horse. We found the venerable steed occupying a 
 neat brick cottage opening into a green paddock in 
 which he was grazing. As soon as he heard his master's 
 voice he pricked up his aged ears and came trotting along 
 till he was within two yards, when he stopped and felt 
 his way to the gate with his feet. We patted him and 
 spoke kindly to him, and he licked salt out of my hand. 
 His teeth were all gone, and his eyes were as white as 
 those of a fish. How pitiable was the noble wreck ! 
 He had been through the Alabama and Florida wars, 
 and bore a scar on his left shoulder from the blow of a 
 tomahawk. His master talked with him as if he were a 
 human being, and as afi'ectionately as if he were a com- 
 rade. It was a fine picture ; the white-headed soldier 
 leaning upon and talking kindly with the aged war-horse 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 97 
 
 who had seen better days, but had now grown old to- 
 gether with his master. 
 
 When we returned to the house we found all ready for 
 the hunt. Our horses were saddled and at the door, 
 each held by an African. We were soon a-saddle, fol- 
 lowed by four servants a-foot, two of whom led a leash 
 of dogs a-piece. How the hounds' intelligent eyes spoke 
 of anticipated sport ! Our party consisted of our colo- 
 nel, the old soldier, Isabel, and myself, of the Saxon 
 race ; of the four negroes, and a fifth, half breed, who 
 w^as a sort of forest-keeper to our host. He was a man 
 skilled, the major told us, in every kind of wood-craft, 
 and not to be matched for a deer in all Tennessee. He 
 was mounted on a nag that looked like a half breed, 
 having a head like a bull dog, a mane like a buffalo, and 
 a thick mane on each fetlock. He was shaggy as an 
 Angola rug, black, and ugly in temper. Our elegant, 
 aristocratic jennets shied away from him if he chanced 
 to trot near either of them, with a proud flash of their 
 eyes and a haughty whinny of their nostrils. 
 
 We at length reached a noble wood extending to a 
 ridge, from which there was a precipitous path leading 
 to a romantic stream that emptied into the Harpeth which 
 conveys its waters to the broader Cumberland. In this 
 forest the deer usually feed, and, crossing the ridge, de- 
 scend the winding path to the water side to drink. 
 
 After getting through the wood, we took up our posi- 
 tion upon the ridge, between the forest and the water. 
 There were four deer paths leading across it, near each 
 of which stood an oak of enormous breadth of branches, 
 with trunks like colossal columns of Thebes. We dis- 
 mounted on tlte ridge, and giving our horses to the 
 
98 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Africans, wlio led them away to a distant eminence, we 
 each of us took a position behind a tree. I wouhl 
 have preferred standing by the colonel's side at his tree, 
 but he and the major insisted that Isabel and I should 
 each have our tree, "so that," said they, "the four 
 paths leading from the forest to the river might be com- 
 manded." So for the sake of a military disposition of 
 their forces by the two old soldiers, I had to take post 
 behind one of the huge oaks. Next to me was the major, 
 fifty feet off to the south; and on the north of me was 
 Isabel, with the colonel on the north flank. For form's 
 sake we were both armed. (Isabel and I with small bird 
 guns, London make, and exquisitely ornamented with 
 silver inlaying.) These guns were owrs, — New Year's 
 presents from the colonel, w^ho regularly gave us lessons 
 in the science of shooting, averring that every American 
 lady ought to kno»^ how to take sight and pull a trigger. 
 Now, when I took the post assigned me, I had no more 
 malice aforethought against any deer of the forest, 
 
 Mr. , than I have against that "dear gazelle" the 
 
 song sings about. I was as innocent of any intention 
 of firing, as a timid young gent who has been dragged 
 into a duello by his "friends" would be likely to have. 
 
 The tall half-breed had left us some time before we 
 reached the ridge, and turned off into the depths of the 
 forest with the dogs, about a dozen of them in all. We 
 had hardly well taken our "stands" when, from the 
 bosom of the old wood, came to our ears the low basso 
 baying of the hounds, sounding full a mile off. 
 
 "There, they wake them up, girls!" cried the major, 
 with eyes sparkling with something of their old battle 
 fire. "Stand firm and keep your trees when they come. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 99 
 
 Take cool aim and pull trigger when you see tlie color 
 of their ejes. Thej will be up in about five minutes!" 
 The baying of the hounds noAY grew nearer and louder, 
 mingled at intervals ^vith the shrill, human cry of the 
 deer driver. From the. colonel I understood that the 
 dogs had doubled round the deer as they were feeding, 
 and were driving them towards the ridge, which they 
 would soon fly across, to dash for the river. Nearer 
 and louder, and wilder was the uproar in the forest ! The 
 open mouths of a dozen dogs, cheered on by the half- 
 breed, filled the woods with a continuous roar. Soon 
 were heard close at hand the crashing of branches and 
 rustling of leaves, as the antlers of the deer brushed 
 them in their mad escapade. Then came the quick pat- 
 ter of hoofs, and the rush of the air like the "noise of 
 many waters." 
 
 ''Look! see! they are in sight!" cried Isabel, her 
 dark eyes sparkling like a spirited young knight's, when 
 he first sees his foe advancing against him, lance in 
 rest! 
 
 And they were in sight ! First, a noble stag, leading 
 the van of the flight; then half a dozen graceful does; 
 then two or three smaller stags; then a confused crowd of 
 a score of all sizes. With heads laid flat back on their 
 shoulders, they came up the ridge side with incredible 
 swiftness. As they approached our stands, they divided 
 into four beaten paths, and came on like a rolling sea, 
 bearing a fleet of antlers. Behind them, following hard 
 on their flanks, coursed the dogs, with their heads in 
 the air, and their deep bay deafening the ear. 
 
 It was a moment of intense excitement. It was like 
 a battle commencing, with the foe chargin^r! I aid not 
 
100 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 feci fear, but excitement! My pulse bounded! My heart 
 leaped with heroic springs ! My spirit caught the wild 
 inspiration of the scene ! 
 
 ^' Stand firm!" eagerly whispered the colonel to us, as 
 they got so near that we could see their brown, womanly 
 looking eyes. 
 
 "Draw your sight coolly, girls," cried the major. 
 
 The next moment they were upon us ! The leading 
 stag dashed like a race horse past the oak where Isabel 
 stood, four or five following him at top speed. But I 
 had no time to observe others. My eyes were bent with 
 a stern energy (my brov\^ is ha^'dly yet restored to its 
 natural smoothness) upon a phalanx that was rushing to- 
 wards me like the wind. An instant, and they passed, 
 leaving a hurricane in the air of their track following 
 them. I shut my eyes involuntarily. (Crack ! crack ! 
 went rifles on each side of me!) As I opened them 
 again, I saw the last of the party making for my tree 
 like a launched javelin. (At this instant Isabel's gun 
 was heard.) It was a beautiful doe, and as I had, in the 
 bewildering moment of the exciting scene, stepped a little 
 out, and exposed myself unconsciously to her attack, 
 she came leveling her frontal battery unerringly to butt 
 me over. I saw my danger, and was paralyzed at it ! 
 
 "Fire, or you are killed," shouted the colonel, in a 
 tone of horror. 
 
 "Fall down, and let her bound over you!" hallooed 
 the major. 
 
 Instinctively I levelled my pretty bird gun and fired. 
 I saw the beautiful animal leap into the air, the red 
 blood pouring down its snow-white breast, and plunge 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 101 
 
 forward headlong at my feet. I sunk, almost insensible, 
 upon the warm body, scarcely hearing the cries. 
 
 "Bravo!" 
 
 "Capital shot!" 
 
 A shriek from Isabel, who believed me wounded bv the 
 doe's hoofs, and who flung herself by my side, recalled 
 me from the momentary stupor which the mingled emo- 
 tions of my danger and my escape, and my horror at the 
 sight of the bleeding breast of the deer, had produced. 
 
 Judge my happiness, Mr. , when it was found 
 
 that the doe was not mortally wounded. The major, at 
 my entreaty, said it should be taken to his house and 
 nursed for me till it recovered. This was done, and I 
 have the pleasure of assuring you that it is rapidly con- 
 valescing, and it seems to be grateful to me for riding 
 over every day to see how it fares. 
 
 The result of the day's "sport" was two stags, three 
 does, and one rabbit, which Isabel caught alive on our 
 way home, after running it down on horseback. She 
 also wounded a deer, which escaped from her. 
 
 Now, then, you have a veritable account of my deer 
 hunt. When you make your promised tour of the Union, 
 "a la President," and come to this garden of the West, 
 Tennessee, we will get up a hunt especially for your 
 edification, fox, deer, or rabbit, as may chime in with 
 your fancy. 
 
 ^ Yours, respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
102 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 My wounded deer lias quite recovered. You cannot 
 imagine my joy at this result. If it had died, I should 
 have carried the poor, affectionate, mild-eyed creature's 
 death upon my conscience to my last hour. It already 
 knows my voice, and suffered me to lead it by my saddle- 
 horn yesterday, from the major's to the Park ; though, 
 to confess the truth, it came twice near bounding away 
 from me when it discovered a herd of deer, which, scared 
 at our approach, went scampering down the glades. But 
 a gentle word and a pat upon the neck re-assured and 
 quieted it. The worst part of bringing it over was to 
 keep two hounds, that always ride out with Isabel, from 
 tearing it in pieces. They could not comprehend the 
 mystery why man should one day hunt deer down and 
 slay them, and the next, pet and protect one. Erutes 
 are not very able logicians, and are beyond the compre- 
 hension of mixed motives. No doubt a great deal of the 
 conduct of their intelligent masters puzzles them vastly. 
 Brutes follow instinct that never deviates from a straight 
 line, while intelligence is unconfined. Buck and Wolf 
 could not be reasoned with, so I used my whip smartly ; 
 and, thus seconded, at length got my protegee safely 
 housed at home. What splendid orbs the mild creature 
 has for eyes ! Their expression is soft and pleading, with 
 a slight glitter of timidity. I have seen a beautiful 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 103 
 
 woman who had just such eyes as my deer has. To 
 keep my treasure from the dogs, I have shut it up in the 
 paddock for poultry, which has a high fence around it , 
 I have had to whip the hounds half a score of times to 
 teach them not to stick their black noses through the 
 palings and yelp at it, half terrifying it to death. 
 
 By the way, talking of hounds, I was awakened this 
 morning at sunrise by a great uproar in the kennel, where 
 at least twenty hounds are kept. Every dog was in full 
 howl, and such a noise! It was not the clear, heart- 
 stirring bay they utter when they are in chase, but a 
 melancholy, cross, snappish wailing and howling, as if 
 some hitherto unheard of tribulation had befallen them 
 generally and individually. The whole house was roused. 
 The colonel first reached the scene of the canine tur- 
 moil, and, upon inquiring, ascertained from a black wo- 
 man, that they were ''mad because she baked their corn- 
 bread for dem." 
 
 It appeared that old, purblind mam' Daphny, who 
 does nothing but cook for the hounds, was sick in bed 
 "with the rheumatics," and delegated her duties to 
 another for the day. The hounds, whose alimentary 
 tastes, as well as olfactory nerves, are keenly sensitive, 
 had detected the new and less skillful hand " at the bel- 
 lows," and so bellowed forth, in the fashion I have 
 described, their grief and rage at this innovation upon 
 established usages. They left the corn-bread untouched, 
 and would not eat until old aunt Daphny — good-hearted 
 Congoese — crawled out of bed, and made up a "batch" 
 which was no sooner placed before the epicurean quad- 
 rupeds, than they devoured it greedily. It takes as much 
 
104 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 good bread to keep these hounds as it does a dozen ne- 
 groes. They, the dogs, are dainty wretches. 
 
 I was witness, yesterday afternoon, to a scene that 
 afforded me infinite amusement. The negroes had pre- 
 sents all round at Christmas and Newyear's ; but, on 
 Washington's birth-day, old George, a favorite and vene- 
 rable slave, whose father once belonged to Washington, 
 argued that he ought to have a special present ! The 
 colonel therefore sent into Nashville and bought him a 
 new violin. A more acceptable gift could hardly have 
 been made to him, as he has a fine ear for music, and is 
 the Orpheus and "Ole Bull" of the plantation. It has 
 been his custom of evenings, after the day's work is over, 
 to seat himself upon a bench beneath a large elm that 
 grows in the centre of the African village or Quartier. 
 Here, at the sound of his fiddle, would gather the whole 
 ebon population to dance. At such times he gives re~ 
 gular lessons to the young negroes in dancing to the 
 banjo, and teaches their juvenile voices the classic airs 
 of Mondango and Gruinea ; hereditary tunes, that have 
 been brought from Africa, and which are now spread over 
 the land to such words as "Juliana Johnson, don't you 
 cry," " Old Dan Tucker," ''Long Time Ago," &c. 
 
 We had just risen from the tea-table, last evening, 
 when old George made his appearance at the steps of 
 the gallery, and, baring his bald head, he bowed with a 
 politeness that Lord Chesterfield would have envied, and 
 made us this speech : 
 
 " Young Missises and Massa colonel ; old George 
 take de liberty to 'vite you to come to de dance out 
 door by de ol' elm. Massa hab giv' me new fiddle, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 105 
 
 and I takes pleasure to giv' de white folks a consart, and 
 show de young ladieses how my scholars dance." 
 
 We accepted George's polite invitation, and as the 
 moon was full we went over to the village. We were 
 guided to the tree by the bright light shed from half a 
 dozen pine torches, held in the hands of as many Afri- 
 can animated statues, whom George had conspicuously 
 stationed to throw light upon the scene. 
 
 As I approached the spot, I was struck with its no- 
 velty, for I have not yet been long enough here to be- 
 come familiar with all plantation customs. I have told 
 you that the negro village of the estate is picturesquely 
 disposed on the borders of a pretty iiiere, a few hundred 
 yards from the house. We crossed the water, by a 
 wicker bridge, and had most of the dwellino;s of the 
 slaves in full view, occupying two streets and three sides 
 of a square. The lights of pine-wood flung a red and 
 wild glare upon their fronts, and upon the lake, and 
 upon a group of more than a hundred Africans of both 
 sexes, who were assembled about the tree. It revealed, 
 also, here and there an old man or woman, helpless 
 through age, seated in their hut-doors, in order to enjoy 
 as much of what was going on as they could. 
 
 We already found the dignified George seated upon 
 his bench, fiddle in hand. On his right stood a short, 
 fat negro, holding a banjo, and on his left was another 
 slave, with eyes like the bottoms of China cups, holding 
 two hollow sticks in his hand. Behind George w-as a 
 toothless negress, having before her a section of a hol- 
 low tree, shaped like a drum, with a dried deer-skin 
 drawn tightly over it ; in her shining fist she grasped a 
 sort of mallet. Chairs, assiduously provided, were placed 
 
106 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 for us, and the buzzing of pleasure, occasioned among 
 tlie numerous company of Ham's posterity, having sub- 
 sided, at a majestic wave of George's fiddle-bow, the 
 concert began ! The first tune was a solo, and new to 
 me, and so beautiful and simple that I made old George 
 play it for me to-day in the house, and I copied the 
 music as he did so. He says his father taught it to him. 
 Certainly the negroes have striking native airs, charac- 
 terized by delightful surprises and touching simplicity. 
 Their chief peculiarity is cheerfulness. 
 
 George having first played a soft strain, the banjo 
 struck in a second ; then came the hollow sticks, like cas- 
 tanets, but five times as large, hollow, and more musical ; 
 and, lastly, the old negress thumped in a base on her 
 hollow drum. The perfect time, the SAveet harmony, the 
 novelty of the strange sounds, the singular combination 
 enchanted me. I must confess that I never heard true 
 music before ; but then I should acknowledge I have not 
 heard any operatic music in an opera-house. But do 
 not smile if I say that I believe George and his three 
 aiders and abettors would be listened to with pleasur- 
 able surprise, if they should play as I heard them play, 
 by a Walnut street audience. Ileal African concert- 
 singers are not, however, in fashion. White men blacked 
 are only comme ilfaut. Is it not odd that a city audi- 
 ence will listen to imitation negroes, and yet despise a 
 concerto composed of the Simon pures? After George 
 had played several pieces, one of which was "Lucy 
 Long," as I had never heard it before, and had received 
 our praises, he said, always speaking with the dignity 
 of an oracle : 
 
 "Now, if massa and de young ladieses please, we 
 
THE SOUTHEENER AT HOME. 107 
 
 hab dc small-fry show dcmsclvc ! Come, tand out here, 
 you litty niggers ! Show de white folk how you dance 
 de corn dance !" 
 
 Thereupon a score of little darkies, from five years 
 of age to a dozen years, girls and boys together, sprang 
 from the crowd, and placed themselves in the space in 
 front of us. Half of them were demi-clad, those that 
 had shirts not being troubled with any superfluous ap- 
 parel, and those that had trousers being shirtless ; in a 
 word, not a black skin was covered with but one species 
 of garment, and this was generally a very short and very 
 dirty, coarse camisa. 
 
 " Now make de dirt fly !" shouted George, as he struck 
 up a brisk air alone — banjo, hollow sticks, and drum be- 
 insT silent. 
 
 The younglings obeyed the command to the letter. 
 They danced like mad ! The short-skirt flaps flew up 
 and down, the black legs were as thickly mixed up as 
 those of a centipede waltzing ; woolly heads, white eyes, 
 glittering teeth, yells and w^hoops, yah-yahs, and wou- 
 wous, all united, created a scene that my shocked pen 
 refuses to describe. The little negroes did full credit to 
 old George's skill, and he evidently felt it. He sawed 
 away desperately till the sweat rained from his furrowed 
 brow. He writhed, and rose, and bent over, and stood 
 up, and did every thing but lie down, playing all the 
 while without cessation, and in a sort of rapturous ecs- 
 tasy. Banjo caught the inspiration, and hollow sticks 
 started after, while drum pounded aAvay like young thun- 
 der, yelling a chant all the while, that, had her grand^ 
 mother sung it to Mungo Park, would have driven him 
 from the shelter of her hut to the less horrible howls 
 
108 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 of the desert. The little Africans danced harder and 
 harder. Their parents caught the spirit of the moment, 
 and this one, dashing his old cap down, sprang into the 
 arena, and that one, uttering a whoop, followed, till full 
 fifty were engaged at once. I never enjoyed any thing 
 so much ! I could fancy myself w^itnessing some hea- 
 then incantation dance in the groves of Africa ! The 
 moonlight shining through the trees, the red glare of the 
 torches upon them, their wild movements, their strange 
 and not unmusical cries, as they kept time with their 
 voices to their quick tramping feet, their dark forms, 
 their contortions, and perfect abandon^ constituted a 
 tout ensemble that must be witnessed to be appreciated. 
 
 Suddenly, in the height of their diversion, the planta- 
 tion bell began to strike eight o'clock. When the first 
 stroke was heard from the turret of the overseer's house, 
 there was a burst of mingled surprise and regret. They 
 shouted to each other to "do their best;" and between 
 the first and eighth stroke, take my word for it, 
 
 Mr. , more dancing was done, and harder, and 
 
 faster, and noisier, than was over done before in so small 
 a limitation of time. It seemed they were all determined 
 to heap as much pleasure into this fleeting space as it 
 could contain. With the last stroke, every man, woman, 
 and youngling, uttered a yell, gave a final leap into the 
 air, and with the dying vibration of the bell's sound, all 
 was quiet. George even was arrested with his bow in 
 the air, in an attitude of expiring delight, as if 
 
 "Dying of a tune in Orpheanic pain," 
 
 "Good night, boys," said the colonel, in the cordial 
 frank way he has when he speaks to his people; "you 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 109 
 
 liave enjoyed yourselves, and so have we. George, your 
 pupils, young and old, do you credit." 
 
 " Tankee, Massa Colonel ; I know'd you'd be berry much 
 gratify. I hope de young ladieses is ekally charmed." 
 
 "We are charmed, George," I answered; at which ho 
 made me a superb bow, when we took our departure. 
 The slaves also retired each to his own cabin, the torches 
 were extinguished, and before we reached the house, 
 stillness reigned in the green moonlit square of the Afri- 
 can quarter. 
 
 ''Now let us have some of your music, Bel," said her 
 father, as we entered the dining-room, which was richly 
 lighted with a solar sphere of ground glass. As my 
 eyes fell upon the superb furniture, the gorgeous carpet, 
 the luxurious drapery of the windows, and the golden 
 harp and rosewood joiano, and the peerless beauty of the 
 young girl seated at the costly instrument, I could not 
 help contrasting the refined character of the whole en- 
 semble with that we had just borne a part in. It ap- 
 peared like a transition from one world to another! 
 Isabel's voice is surpassingly rich in . compass and sweet- 
 ness. She sings much like Biscaccianti, and warbles in 
 her throat in the same dulcet, dove-like manner. She 
 can soar too, to the same lark-like notes, taking the soul 
 far up on the wing of her song, to the very skies, till it 
 melts into heaven. Don't think me extravagant, but 
 music ever needs adequate language to describe its effects. 
 Types, transpose them into any shape of words, fail to 
 express the impression music makes upon the soul. 
 
 While I was looking at the African dance, and listened 
 to their voices, which went to the tune of the dance in a 
 continuous chant, I was led to the reflection that the 
 
110 THE suNJs'Y south; or, 
 
 dance, even in our assemblies, is a barbaric relic, and 
 til at civilization in retaining, has only rejected tlie vocal 
 feature which characterizes it among all barbarous peo- 
 ple. We dance mutely ; Indians and Africans singingly. 
 Who shall judge between us ? 
 
 Since I wrote the above, I have seen the gentleman 
 who rode the bull six miles on a steeple chase, half 
 across the country ! He called to see the colonel on some 
 business, and was presented to us. He is a young man, 
 resolute, and rather dissipated looking; and I discerned 
 the butt of a small pistol sticking out of his pocket, which 
 did not prepossess me favorably, for it strikes me that 
 a brave man will not go armed day-by-day. Carrying 
 weapons is a sign either of a quarrelsome temper, or a 
 cowardly heart ! After our visitor left, the colonel told us 
 that three years ago he laid a wager that he would ride a 
 famous fierce bull twice around a pasture. The bet was 
 taken, and the young man managed to get astride the 
 bull with only a stout whip in his hand. The bull, as 
 might be exj)ected, at being thus taken "a-back," 
 plunged, roared, pawed, and set off at full speed. At 
 the first dash he broke through the fence, and laid his 
 mad course straight across the country. The young 
 man, putting his whip in his teeth, and grasping a horn 
 in each hand, held on for his life. Unable to guide the 
 enraged brute, unable to check him, and fearing to throw 
 himself off, he committed himself to the creature's will, 
 which led him two leagues to the Cumberland, into which, 
 sans 2^eur, the bull plunged headlong, and so gave his 
 involuntary rider liberty. It is needless to say he won 
 "the stakes." 
 
 Can you tell me, Mr. , if General Morris has 
 
THE suN>s^Y south: OR, 111 
 
 lately puLlislicd any new pieces? Next to Tom Moore's, 
 liis songs arc admired in the West. If the gallant gene- 
 rtil should come out here, he would have a pretty fair 
 notion of what^^osi mortem fame is; for the appreciation 
 which an author receives in a strange land, as I have 
 said, is equal to the voice of posterity. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
112 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 My dear Mr. 
 
 I CAN convey to you no adequate idea of the pic- 
 turesque character of the scenery of this estate. It is 
 made up of groves, uplands, cliffs, grotto-like springs, 
 level, green meadows, and undulating fields. In what- 
 soever direction we ride or walk, there are interesting- 
 features to please the eye. Our drives from the villa 
 are all charming. Eleven miles in one direction, east- 
 ward, we come to the venerated tomb of Jackson, at the 
 Hermitage; in another we find ourselves, after three 
 hours' ride, in the beautiful and wealthy city of Nashville. 
 A longer ride, south, brings us to the handsome village 
 of Columbia, where President Polk was born and lived, /^"df, 
 and where is one of the most eminent collegiate institu- 
 tions for females in the United States; and beyond, an 
 hour's ride farther, lies Ashwood, the princely domain 
 of the four brothers Polk, whose estates extend for miles, 
 ju continuous and English like cultivation. Of this lovely 
 I'cgion I shall vrritc you by and hj. A shaded road, 
 leading four miles north of us, terminates on the pebbly 
 shore of the romantic Cumberland, where, as we sit upon 
 oar horses, we can watch the steamers pass, and the keel 
 boats and huge barges floating down with the ciirrent. 
 Here, too, vre sometimes catch fish, and have a rare pic- 
 nic time of it. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 113 
 
 Be sure of it, Mr. , you never will Lave enjoyed 
 
 life till you come to our Park. If I dared tell the colonel 
 what I was doing, he would heartily invite you through 
 me ; but I would not let him know for the world that I 
 am "takin' notes an' printin' 'em," so pray don't send 
 your paper to him. He doesn't read much, save politics, 
 or I should tremble lest, when he rides to the city, he 
 should fall in with my "Needles." But, then, I have 
 not said any thing in them very naughty, have I, Mr. 
 
 ? I am sure all is love and kindness that I write ; 
 
 at least, I see them in my inkstand when I dip my pen 
 therein. ^. 
 
 My deer follows me like a greyhound. It has a heart 
 that holds gratitude as a full cup holds rich wine. When 
 I look into its intelligent eyes I seem to be looking down 
 into a pair of deep, shadowy wells, at the bottom of which 
 I see visible the star of its spirit. It seems to have 
 almost a human soul ! It loves, and is grateful, and is 
 dependent like a woman ! Nothing pleases it so much 
 as to have me talk to it. It listens, moves its graceful 
 ears, and smiles out of its eyes, its calm joy! "What," 
 asks Emerson, "what is a brute?" Who can answer? 
 What a mystery they are ! 
 
 By the way, I nearly lost my life defending my pet 
 yesterday. I had walked down to a spring that gushes 
 out of a cavernous rock in a lovely green glen, a short 
 distance from the house. My deer followed me. As I 
 sat by the spring and read "Willis's People I have Seen," 
 — a very readable book, by-the-bye, my deer ambled off 
 to a little emerald knob, and began to browse. It was 
 a quiet scene, and the idea of danger never entered either 
 
 of our foolish heads. All at once I heard a wolf-like 
 
 8 
 
114 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 bay from a deep throat; then a swift riisliing of a blood- 
 hound so closely past me, that I felt the warm breath 
 of the animal upon my face. The next moment he was 
 within a bound of my deer ! With a cry of warning, 
 I thoughtlessly hastened to the rescue of the deer, which 
 no sooner saw its danger than it sprang into the air, 
 completely over the dog, as he crouched coucliant to 
 pounce upon him, and flew to me. The bloodhound 
 doubled and came back after him. The deer stopped 
 and stood trembling at my side. I threw myself for- 
 ward, and endeavored to intimidate the red eyed monster 
 by shaking Willis at him ! But, I know not from what 
 influence, he turned aside from me and leaped upon the 
 animal's shoulder. The helpless deer sunk upon its 
 knees, uttering a piteous cry. At this my courage was 
 roused, and grasping like a stiletto the steel inlaid paper- 
 cutter I had been using, I was in the act of driving it 
 into the fiery eye of the savage brute, when a loud voice 
 caused the dog to release his hold, and me to suspend the 
 blow. With a growl like a bear robbed of his prey, the 
 bloodhound slunk away, evidently fearing to encounter 
 the owner of the voice, who proved to be the overseer. 
 
 ''You had an escape, miss," said the man, politely 
 raising his broad black hat. "I did not know any one 
 was in this field, or I should have kept him close by me. 
 It was the deer he was after. I hope you were not 
 hurt?" 
 
 "Only frightened for my poor deer," I answered. 
 "Her shoulder bleeds, sir." 
 
 "It is only a tooth mark through the skin. Let me 
 see that dirk, if you please. If you had stuck him with 
 
THE SOUTHERNETl AT HOME. 115 
 
 that in tlic eye you would have killed him outright. It 
 is a little, but sure weapon." 
 
 "It is a paper-cutter, sir," I said, mortified to think 
 he should suppose I carried a dirk. 
 
 "It is as good a cutter as a knife. I am glad you did ' 
 not strike the dog. He is worth a round hundred and 
 fifty dollars, and he is the only one we have. They will 
 track a footstep for miles," he added; " and the negroes 
 fear them so, that one on a plantation is enough to keep 
 them from running away. I keep this ugly fellow more 
 as a preventive than really to hunt them. Come, Tiger," 
 he said, calling the dog ; and in a few moments I was 
 left alone with my wounded deer. It was not, fortun- 
 ately, badly hurt, and in an hour was as lively as ever. 
 
 On my way home, I called at a neat hut, built under 
 a shady catalpa tree. A clean, broad stone was the door- 
 step ; white half-curtains were visible at the small windows, 
 and an air of neatness pervaded the whole. Before it 
 wa,s a small yard, in which grew two "Pride of China" 
 trees, for shade, and a cabbage and gourd plat were on 
 either side of the doorway. In the door sat old Aunt 
 Phillisy, a negress withered to parchment by extreme 
 age. 
 
 She says she is over a hundred years old, of which I 
 have no doubt. She is African born, and still retains 
 many words of her native dialect, with a strange gibber- 
 ish of broken English. She was smoking a pipe, made 
 of corn-cob, and rocking her body to and fro in the sun- 
 shine, in pure animal enjoyment. Her husband, okl 
 Daddy Cusha, who was nearly as old as his wife, was 
 seated on a low stool in the room, but where the sun 
 fell upon him. He was the most venerable object I ever 
 
116 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 beheld, in liis way. He was stone blind, bis bead bald, 
 and sliining like burnished copper, and his beard white 
 as fleeces of wool. His hands were folded upon his 
 knees, and he seemed to be in silent communion with the 
 depths of his own spirit. These two persons had not 
 labored for years, and their master was providing for 
 them in their old age. On every plantation you will find 
 one or more old couples thus passing their declining 
 years, in calm repose, after the toils of life, awaiting 
 their transfer to another state of being. The care taken 
 of the aged servants in this country is honorable both to 
 master and slave. 
 
 I had often seen Mammy Phillisy and old Daddy Cusha 
 — as Isabel, who was attached to them, almost every 
 day brings them, with her own hand, "something nice" 
 from the table. The first day I took dinner at the Park, 
 I noticed this noble girl setting aside several dainties, and 
 directing the servant in attendance, in a whisper, to place 
 them on a side table ; and I was led from it to believe 
 some person, some very dear friend in the house, was an 
 invalid. But I soon found that they were for Aunt Phillisy, 
 Aunt Daphny, and Father Jack, and other venerable 
 Africans of the estate, whose age and helplessness were 
 thus tenderly regarded by the children of the master 
 they had once faithfully served. 
 
 "Good morning. Aunt Phillisy," I said. 
 
 "Eh, goo' mornee, Mishy Katawinee," answered the 
 old slave, with a brightening expression, "howee do, 
 Mishy ?" 
 
 " Very well. Aunt Phillisy," replied I, "I hope you and 
 old Cusha are doing well." 
 
 " Yeesha, Mishy, we welly wellee. Takee seatee, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 117 
 
 Mishy," she said, rising and handing me a wicker chair. 
 So I sat down and had a long chat with them. Ohl 
 Cusha could recollect when he was taken prisoner in 
 Africa. He said his people and another tribe fought 
 together, that his tribe was beaten, and he, and his mo- 
 ther, and brothers, and sisters were all taken by " de 
 oder brackee men for gold backshee ; den dey put me 
 board de leety ship," continued Cusha, "and, by'm by, 
 we come to land, and dey sellee me in Wirginny. Oh, 
 it long time 'go, Missee!" 
 
 Aunt Phillisy's memory traveled no farther back than 
 " the big blue sea." Iler life in a slaver seemed to have 
 made such an indelible impression upon her that it had 
 become the era of her memory. Before it, she remcmx- 
 bered nothing. Her face, breast, and arms were tattooed 
 with scars of gashes, as were those also of her husband. 
 While I Avas talking with them, one of their great-grand- 
 children came into the cabin. It was as black, as thick 
 of lip, as white of eye, as long of heel, as thick of skull, 
 as its genuine Afric forebears ; which proved to me that 
 the African loses none of his primal characteristics by 
 change of climate and circumstances, nor by the progress 
 of generations. The reflection was then forced upon my 
 mind that these familiar looking negroes, which we see 
 every day about us, are indelibly foreigiiers ! Yet what 
 Southerner looks upon his slave as a barbarian, from a 
 strange, barbarous land, domesticated in his own house, 
 his attendant at table, the nurse of his children ? Yet 
 no alien in America is so much a foreigner as the ne- 
 gro ! 
 
 What a race they are ! How naturally they fall into 
 the dependence of bondage ! How familiarly they dwell 
 
118 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 in Southern liouscliolds ! How intimately they are asso- 
 ciated with the inmates ! How necessary to the happi- 
 ness and comfort of the beautiful daughter or aristocratic 
 lady of the planter, is the constant presence of an Afri- 
 ca ness, black, thick-lipped, and speaking broken English, 
 — a black daughter of Kedar — whose grandmother may 
 have danced the Fetish by the fires of human bones, and 
 whose father sacrificed to idols more hideous than them- 
 selves ! How little, I say, does the Southerner realize 
 who and what the negro is ! Yet these descendants of 
 barbarians and wild Afric tribes are docile, gentle, affec- 
 tionate, grateful, submissive, and faithful ! In a word, 
 they possess every quality that should constitute a good 
 servant. No race of the earth makes such excellent do- 
 mestics. It is not in training ! They seem to be born 
 to it ! Look at the American Indian, and contrast him 
 with the African. 
 
 In the early history of the United States, many of 
 these were forced into bondage, but soon pined and died ! 
 In the West Indies the Spaniards would have made the 
 native Indians slaves, and did compel them to toil, but 
 in what island of the West Indies are now to be found 
 any of their descendants in bondage ? Perished all ! 
 The proud spirit of the Indian will not brook vassalage. 
 His will bends not, but breaks ! A few months' subjec- 
 tion to imprisonment broke the great heart of Osceola ! 
 Oh, when I think on the base act of treachery (and by 
 an American officer, too) by which that gallant and 
 chivalrous chief was inveigled into the hands of the 
 Americans, my pulse throbs quicker, and I feel my 
 check warm ! It is the darkest act that stains Ame- 
 rican history ! And our government connived at it ! 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 119 
 
 Our government, which, next to God's, should be su- 
 preme in greatness and glory, justice and mercy, over 
 the earth, our government availed itself of the treachery, 
 and so made it its own ! Shame on the American arms ! 
 Infamy on the name of an officer, who, under a flag of 
 truce, could thus violate every principle of honor ! 
 
 There is just now a good deal of talk about the disso- 
 lution of the Union.* We ladies even engage in the 
 discussion, and, if not with ability, at least with warmth 
 and patriotism. With but one exception, I am glad to 
 find all the Tennessee ladies I have met are firm union- 
 ists. This lady said she hoped to see the '^ North cast 
 off," Nashville the capital of a new republic or kingdom, 
 when Charleston would rival New York, and New Or- 
 leans would be the Constantinople of the world ! How 
 my heart pitied her ! Dissolve the Union ! It is to ex- 
 patriate ourselves. It is to blot the name of America 
 from the scroll of nations. I have no patience with 
 such talkers. They know not what they say. What a 
 speech Mr. Clay has given the nation ! Last and migh- 
 tiest efi*ort of all. As he advances in years, his intellect 
 seems to catch glory from the splendor of the world to 
 which he is near approaching ! His speech will be re- 
 membered through all time. 
 
 Why should such a man as Mr. Clay or Mr. Webster 
 wish to be President? This position can add no new 
 lustre to their names. As Presidents they would be 
 lost in the long list of Presidents that is to be unrolled 
 along the tide of time ; but simply as American Sena- 
 tors, (titles, than which none are more dignified on 
 earth,) they will descend to posterity as the Cicero ynd 
 * Written in 1852- 
 
120 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Demosthenes .of the early ages of the republic. I woulvl 
 say to them, " Senators, if you wish to be great for all 
 time, lie down in your sepulchres with the senatorial 
 mantle folded upon your breasts." 
 
 You must pardon my bit of politics, Mr. , but 
 
 the Tennessee ladies are all politicians, I believe the most 
 zealous to be found anywhere, and I have caught their 
 spirit. It strikes me that every true American woman 
 should understand the affairs of government, political 
 motives, great men, and exciting questions of public in- 
 terest. So did the Roman matrons, and, doubtless, the 
 Roman maidens. 
 
 But, my paper tells me I must close. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 I 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 121 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 I HAVE just finished reading Emerson's great book, 
 "Nature." What a well of thought it is! What a 
 wonderful man he is to write such wonderful thinfics ! 
 He is a metaphysical anatomist. He lays open the uni- 
 verse to the soul's eye. He is one of those few writers 
 that put in words for us, our own unspoken thoughts, 
 those great thoughts that come upon us in the waking 
 hours of night, and in the still, holy hour of twilight. 
 How many thoughts that I never dreamt of uttering, 
 not dreaming they could be written in words, have I 
 been startled and pleased to find in this book ! He 
 seems to comprehend the mystery of life, and teach us 
 what and for what we are. The questions which a child 
 asks, and which puzzle a philosopher to answer, this 
 philosopher answers with the simplicity of a child. He 
 delights us, because we feel that he has felt, and thought, 
 and wondered, as we have felt, and thought, and won- 
 dered ! His book must make its way to the hearts of 
 all who think ; of all who look at tlie stars, and ponder 
 with awe and solemn curiosity thereupon ; of all who 
 look dowuAvard into their own spirits, and meditate upon 
 the mystery they are ! 
 
 Mr. Emerson calls the visible universe the scoria of 
 spirit! He says, that all spirit has a tendency to visi- 
 
122 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 bility — hence result the visible world, the heavens, and 
 the earth. A visible creature is the ultimatum of spirit. 
 The physical powers of Deity are visible in the grandeur 
 of creation — the moral were made visible in the person 
 of Jesus Christ, who was the "Godhead visible." These 
 are wonderful sayings to think upon. They help vastly 
 towards unfolding the mighty thoughts that rush upon the 
 soul at times. Mr. Emerson's must delight all right 
 minds. The whole scope of his Christian philosophy, 
 however, I can not accept. He stops short of revelation, 
 and all true philosophy should point to the Christian 
 doctrine of the cross. 
 
 Ticknor's charming and elaborate work on Spanish 
 literature, I have just completed. How shall I express 
 my thanks to this laborious and elegant scholar, for the 
 delight and instruction I have been recipient of from its 
 pages ! How little have the best Spa^nish students 
 known of Castilian literature ! The educated world, both 
 sides of the sea, are under infinite obligations to Mr. 
 Ticknor for this book. The only fault I can find with 
 it, is the obscurity in which he has left the question 
 touching the authorship of that fascinating work, Gon- 
 salvo de Cordova. I have two books with this title, but 
 am at a loss to know which it is he describes, whether 
 the one commencing "Castas musas," or another. But 
 one fault is a spot on the sun. I have no doubt Mr. 
 Ticknor's work will create a taste for Spanish literature. 
 There is none that surpasses it. The best of it is still 
 in MS., and some of it remains locked up in the xA.rabic 
 character. It is odd that the bulk of Spanish literature 
 should consist of comedies, when we reflect that the 
 Spaniards are the gravest people in Europe. The 
 
TnE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 123 
 
 Pretich, who are the lightest people, excel most in 
 tragedy! These facts need accounting for. 
 
 Last evenino; Isabel read to us one of Mrs. Lee Ilentz's 
 finely conceived and gracefully penned stories. We 
 ^Ycre all charmed with it, and the colonel, naughty man ! 
 who thinks ladies are good for nothing but to stitch and 
 sew, play the guitar and piano, marveled ''that a woman 
 could write so well." He even goes so far in his pre- 
 judice as to refuse to read a book written by a female I 
 Isabel read Madame de Stael's "Corinne" in French, to 
 him, lately, and he was as charmed v/ith it as the authoress 
 could have desired. He would even forego his afternoon 
 nap and cigar after dinner, to come to the drawing-room 
 to listen. We have a conspiracy against him, and mean 
 ho shall yet confess that books written by women are the 
 only books worth reading. 
 
 We are somewhat puzzled to know who wrote "Shir- 
 ley," a m.an or woman! / am satisfied it is a woman. 
 It is a well told story, but does not deserve half the 
 praise that has been lavished upon it. Mrs. Ann S. 
 Stephens has more talent, and can write better than the 
 author of "Shirley." If this book had been trimmed 
 of full one hundred and fifty pages of prosy verbiage, 
 the balance would have entitled it to a place by the side 
 of the "Vicar of Wakefield ;" but as it is, it will not live 
 two years, — it will never become a library book. Poor 
 Goldsmith! What a pity he is not alive to enjoy tbe 
 sunshine of his posthumous popularity! Last week I 
 saw a copy of Shakspcare, superbly illustrated. It cost 
 $150. I sighed that "Witty Will" was not living to 
 read his own works in such splendid drapery. How 
 such things mock all human glory ! Great men live and 
 
124 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 strusrsrle, and toil, not for themselves, but for the future. 
 
 OO 7 7 ' 
 
 They die ignorant that they leave an imperishable name 
 on the earth. How few men have cotemporaneous 
 fame! Washington Irving, Bryant, and Tom Moore, 
 have it ! and they say poor Moore has become imbecile. 
 I mentioned this to a young lady whom I heard singing 
 one of his songs. 
 
 "Is he?" she replied, in a half inquiring, half indiffer- 
 ent tone, and went on with her song. 
 
 "Such," thought I, "is immortality! Such is human 
 glory! A great man dies — a great poet becomes in- 
 sane — and the world says, 'Is he?' and rolls on as 
 before !" 
 
 I have been for a couple of days past on a visit to a 
 neighboring estate. Upon it is a large, green mound, 
 which the proprietor excavated for our entertainment. 
 The result was the dishumation of several beautiful vases 
 of lemon-colored clay, baked like porcelain ; arrow heads, 
 beads, bones, amulets, and idols. One of the last 
 weighed seventy pounds, was the size of a boy six years 
 old, carved out of limestone. It was seated a la Turk^ 
 and had a hideously ugly face. It, nevertheless, proves 
 that the Indians had notions of sculpture. It is pre- 
 cisely like the pictures of such deities in Stephens' book 
 on Central America. It is to be sent to the celebrated 
 cabinet of Professor Troost, in Nashville, a collection 
 not surpassed in the Union. The doctor is a venerable 
 Dr. Franklin looking man, is an enthusiastic geologist, 
 and is polite to the ladies, especially the young and 
 beautiful, for though he has seen eighty-one years, he 
 can distinguish specimens in that way. 
 
 A young friend of ours, who lives not far distant, and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 125 
 
 is a frequent visitor at the Park, after paying a visit to 
 this cabinet, was seized with the cacoethes of ffeoloo-izino- 
 
 TT 1 o a !r>' 
 
 lie passed two weeks in the woods and hills, and Avander- 
 ing along rivulets, till he loaded himself and two slaves 
 down with specimens. With them he made his way to 
 the presence of the worthy doctor, whom he intended 
 both to gratify and surprise with his rich donations to 
 science. 
 
 The venerable professor received him and his treasures 
 with his characteristic courtesy, and when he under- 
 stood that the specimens were destined to enrich the 
 cabinet, his fine old Franklin face brightened with de- 
 light. I will describe the scene in our friend's own 
 words : 
 
 " The first rock he took out he glanced at, and tossed 
 it aside, with some indistinct sounds I could not under- 
 stand. I thought it was German. The next rock, which 
 I took to be a fine agate, he tossed away with the same 
 muttering. So he went on till he had thrown away a 
 dozen, each one with looks of increased disappointment 
 and unconcealed contempt. 
 
 " ' What is that you say about them, doctor V I asked. 
 
 " ' Vater vorn — all vater vorn.' 
 
 " ' Water worn ? What is that ?' I asked. 
 
 "'Worn smoot'; not'in* but bebbles. Dey goot for 
 not'in', if dey all de same!' 
 
 "^They are all the same,' I replied, chop-fallen. 
 
 "'Den dey all good for not'in'.' 
 
 "I told the boys to shovel them back into the bags, 
 and as I saw a shy twinkle in the professor's eye, I dis- 
 solved!" 
 
 Perhaps no state is so rich as Tennessee in geology. 
 
126 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 A bare inspection of this ca1)inot will show this. The 
 doctor has some rare diamonds and jewels, which he 
 takes great pleasure in showing to the ladies; and his 
 collection of polished stones will shame even the most 
 brilliant show-case of your much extolled Bailey & Co. 
 Among the curiosities is a bowie-knife wrought out 
 of a thunderbolt, (magnetic iron,) which fell in this 
 state. 
 
 The iron of this description is beautifully crystalized, 
 unlike any thing belonging to terrestrial geology. The 
 "water worn" specimen collector, above mentioned, was, 
 not a great while since, the subject of an amusing inci- 
 dent. He has been for some time an admirer of a cousin 
 of Isabel's, a belle and a fortune: and it was settled they 
 were to marry. But one evening when he called, he 
 found her unaccountably distant and cold. She would 
 only answer him in monosyllables, and with scarcely an 
 opening in her lips. If he drew near her, she would 
 draw back ; if he demanded an explanation, she replied 
 only by silence. At length he arose and left, and she 
 silently bowed him ''good night." Unable to account 
 for such conduct, and wondering how he could have 
 offended her, he early next morning came riding at 
 spur-speed to the Park, to unfold his distress to his fair 
 friend, Isabel, and beg her intercession to heal the 
 breach. 
 
 He had hardly got through his story and received 
 Isabel's promise, before her cousin was announced. She 
 entered, arrayed in an elegant green riding costume, 
 with a snow white plume pending to her shoulder. She 
 looked earnest and anxious. But, seeing her lover, she 
 was about to smile and address him in a frank and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 127 
 
 usual manner, when liis cold how and haughty air chilled 
 her. She turned away, and, embracing her cousm, 
 w^alked throus^h the foldino; doors into the farther room 
 with her. Here she told her hoAV she had offended her 
 betrothed, and had ridden over to get her to explain 
 matters. 
 
 "You must know, Isabel, that the doctor prescribed 
 for my sick -headache, j^esterday, six onions, cut fine, 
 eaten raw, with vinegar, pepper, and salt. Well, I fol- 
 lowed the prescription ; and I assure you they were very 
 nice; and they cured my head. So I went into the 
 parlor to practice a new waltz, when, without my know- 
 ing he was in the house, Harry entered the parlor. I 
 instantly remembered the horrid onions and felt like a 
 culprit ! I would have fled, but it was too late. What 
 should I do ? I had to remain and entertain him. But 
 mercy! I dared not open my mouth, lest my breath 
 should betray the fatal secret ! So I monosyllabled him 
 — ^kept as far off from him as possible ; and at last he 
 went off, his handsome eyes flashing like two stars. 
 Now you must go and tell him how it was, and make 
 it up." 
 
 You may be sure, Mr. , that with two willing 
 
 hearts the reconciliation was not long in being effected ; 
 and the lovers rode away together perfectly happy. 
 Poor Harry ! water-worn pebbles, and onions with vinegar 
 and pepper, are now his abhorrence ! 
 
 I have half a mind to try my pen at a tale for you, 
 Mr. . Mrs. Lee Hentz's beautiful stories have in- 
 spired me with a desire to attempt something in the 
 same way. I feel diffident of my ability to adventure 
 
128 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 into the higher fiehl of literature — but I can try. If it 
 will not pass ^Hhe ordeal of your critic's eye," you have 
 only to call it ''water worn;" and throw it away with 
 other pebbles. 
 
 Kespectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 129 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 My dear Mr. : 
 
 When you hear I have been to the great "Nashville 
 Convention," I fear me you will have no more to do with 
 me. It was curiosity that tempted me, and, being a 
 "Yankee Girl," I felt the greatest desire to be present 
 at a meeting which w^as drawing the attention of the 
 whole Union, if not of the whole world. The colonel 
 is a true Southern man in interests as well as feeling, 
 and, at breakfast table on the morning of the 3d inst., 
 he said, in his badinage manner : 
 
 " Kate, what say you to going to the Convention?" 
 
 "The Nashville Convention, sir ?" I exclaimed, with a 
 start of innate horror. 
 
 " Yes ; it begins its session to-day. It is but three 
 hours' drive into town, and I am going in to see what 
 they are going to do. Isabel is desirous of being pre- 
 sent, as ladies are especially invited to grace the assem- 
 blage." 
 
 " I thought they were to meet with closed doors, colo- 
 nel," I said, in my innocence, having the ghost of the 
 Hartford Convention before my eyes. # 
 
 "No ; they will do all open and fearlessly, Kate. If 
 you can overcome your scruples enough to be of the 
 party, we should be delighted to have 3'OU go." 
 
 After a few moments' reflection, I concluded to con- 
 9 
 
130 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 sent, though I must confess with some compunctions of 
 conscience, Mr. , for I religiously believed the Con- 
 vention to be traitorous in its spirit, in its views, and in 
 its tendencies. 
 
 The carriage was at the door as soon as breakfast was 
 over, and, after three hours' drive, we entered Nashville, 
 a city, as I have before remarked, presenting the most 
 charming aspect to the approacher of any inland town in 
 the Union. The tall, Egyptian towers of the Presbyte- 
 rain church, the Gothic battlements of the Episcopalian, 
 and the pointed turrets of the Baptist, the fortress-like 
 outline of the half-finished Capitol, and the dome of the 
 Court house, with the numerous cupolas, galleries, 
 groves, and bridges, together form a coup d'oeil that 
 enchants the eye. On our road, we had overtaken an 
 open traveling barouche, containing two South Caro- 
 linians, on their way to the Convention. One of them 
 being known and recognized by the colonel, we had quite 
 an animated conversation, as we rode side by side. 
 
 Arrived in town, we stopped at an elegant mansion, 
 the abode of a relation of the colonel, where we were 
 made S-s much at home as we could have been at the 
 Park. We found the city thronged with strangers from 
 all the Southern states, and the houses of the best fami- 
 lies were hospitably opened to entertain them. Upon 
 expressing my surprise to an eminent whig jurist opposed 
 to the Convention, that he should have thrown open the 
 largest and best rooms of his house to the members of it, 
 he remarked that " he could never forget the laws of 
 hospitality, and that it was his opinion that strangers 
 visiting the city should be received with kindness and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 131 
 
 civility." I lionorerl the venerable gentleman for this 
 specimen of old Roman feeling. 
 
 The Convention at first convened in the Odd Fellows' 
 Hall, a large and beautiful edifice^ut not being found 
 convenient for the accommodation of spectators, espe- 
 cially the ladies, the McKendree Church, which is the 
 most spacious in the city, was offered to it and accepted. 
 As we entered the vestibule, which was thronged with 
 gentlemen, I noticed a placard, reading in large letters 
 as follows : " The pews on each side of the church on the 
 floor, reserved for ladies ; and no gentleman without a 
 lady to be admitted on the floor unless he is a member. 
 This rule will be strictly enforced." 
 
 Upon entering, we found the house filled, the mem- 
 bers occupying the body of the church, the ladies, 
 like borders of flowers, (that is a gallant delegate's 
 figure of speech,) enclosing them on each side, and the 
 galleries packed with lookers-on and lookers-down, some 
 of them with their hats on their heads, for there are 
 some men that don't know when they ought to keep their 
 hats off. Through the politeness of General , a gen- 
 tleman as distinguished for his patriotism as for his 
 politeness, we were escorted to an advantageous seat near 
 the platform, although we did not turn any gentleman 
 out of his seat in order to get places for ourselves. 
 
 I know of nothing more uncivil or worthy of being re- 
 buked, than that rudeness so common among ladies, which 
 leads them to make a gentleman sacrifice to them a seat, 
 which, perhaps, he has with much difficulty obtained for 
 himself. It is the duty of every man coming into a 
 crowded room with ladies, to find places for them without 
 discommoding other men. I saw two " ladies" come in and 
 
132 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 stand before a pew, and look steadily at an elderly gen- 
 tleman in it, as if they were resolved to look him out of 
 his seat, though his wife and daughters were with him in 
 the pew ; but the height of impertinence is for a man 
 with females under escort, to ask another gentleman to 
 rise and give his seat to the ladies ; yet, during the session 
 of the Convention, I saw this thing done repeatedly. 
 Madame de Stael says, in her admirable " Corinne :" 
 ^'I'id^e que les grands seigneurs de Rome ont de I'hon- 
 neur et du devoir, c'est d^ ne pas quitter d'un pas ni 
 d'un instant leur dame." I fully subscribe to this law 
 of manners in its application to the present purpose. 
 
 "VYhen we entered, Mr. Hammond, of South Carolina, 
 was addressing the chair, which was filled by a dignified, 
 Andrew Jackson-looking man, who, I learned from the 
 colonel, who knows almost everybody, was Judge Sharkey, 
 of Mississippi. Mr. Hammond's head struck me as very 
 fine. He is of a pale, intellectual aspect, with a high 
 forehead, white and polished ; indeed, his w^liole face 
 was almost as colorless as alabaster, and seemed chiseled 
 out of marble. What he said was moderate and conser- 
 vative, and what particularly surprised me throughout 
 the nine days sitting of the Convention, was the calm, 
 dignified, and impassioned attitude taken and held by 
 the South Carolina delegation. They spoke little, giv- 
 ing the lead to others rather than taking it themselves, 
 yet it was perhaps the most talented, Mississippi alone 
 excepted, delegation in the Convention. Barnwell Rhet, 
 of South Carolina, spoke during the day, and made a 
 favorable impression. He is a strong-minded man, with 
 a head something like late Attorney-General Legar^'s, 
 and a manner highly courteous in debate : and this 
 
THE SOUTHEPtNER AT HOME. 133 
 
 finislied courtesy seems to me characteristic of these 
 Carolinian gentlemen. Mr. Barnwell (since chosen 
 United States Senator in place <if Mr. Elmore) also 
 made a short reply to one of the delegates. He is a 
 strong man, and holds rank with the leading intellects 
 of the South. His intellectual weight will be felt in 
 the Senate. Mr. Cheves, of the same delegation, is a 
 hale, white-headed old gentleman, with a fine port-wine 
 tint to his florid cheek. He has a high reputation, I 
 believe, but during the session he said but little. The 
 most eloquent man of this delegation is Mr. Pickens. 
 He made a speech on the sixth day that surpassed any 
 thing in the way of forensic eloquence I ever imagined. 
 He has a face like one of the old Roman emperors, which 
 I have seen on a coin, Nerva, I think, and his oratory is 
 worthy of the Forum. By turns, calm and tempestuous, 
 gentle and strong, witty and withering, logical and ima- 
 ginative ; at one moment, the audience would be startled 
 with the thunders of the rock-beating surges ; and at 
 another, soothed by the soft zephyrs of a summer sea. 
 His rhetoric was profusely ornamented with figures and 
 metaphors, like an exquisite mosaic. Altogether, he is 
 one of the most finished orators it has been my good 
 fortune to listen to ; and the colonel says, his speech on 
 this occasion was worthy to be compared to the most 
 noble efforts of Wirt and Patrick Henry. South Caro- 
 lina, in truth, sent her jewels here, and their talents have 
 
 won them golden opinions. Be assured, Mr. , that 
 
 the sentiments of this state have been misrepresented. 
 Throughout the Convention, her sons were models of 
 conservatism and healthy patriotism. Seated near them 
 was the Mayor of Charleston, called "the handsome 
 
134 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Mayor," Mr. 11 , a worthy descendant of Colonel 
 
 Hutchinson, of Cromwoll's time, and of the Mrs. Hutch- 
 inson, whose memoirs are so well known. He was 
 pointed out to me by a lady with : " Don't you think he 
 is the handsomest man in the house?" He is not a de- 
 legate, but only a "looker-on in Venice." He has been 
 to the Mammoth Cave, near here, within a few days 
 past, and his description of it to me I must give you, it 
 is so truthful : '' The sensation," said he, " on beholding 
 it when standing beneath the main dome is precisely like 
 that experienced in gazing upon Niagara ; it is Niagara 
 in repose.'^ 
 
 The Virginia delegation took a very active part in all 
 the debates. It was, if possible, more ultra than any 
 of the rest. The Hon. Beverly Tucker, a half brother 
 of John Randolph, spoke often, but what he said did not 
 please me. He is, moreover, past his vigor, and enter- 
 ing his dotage. His speech was exceedingly bitter, and 
 out of temper. It was the only one that was recrimi- 
 nating against the North ; for a spirit of forbearance in 
 this direction has peculiarly marked the whole body. 
 The North is alluded to as "our northern brethren," or 
 "our sister states," &c., and there is almost, as I have said, 
 a total absence of vituperation. Mr. Tucker, however, 
 something in the spirit and something in the manner of 
 Randolph, of Roanoke, let out his bitterness, and was 
 sometimes forgetful that ladies were present. He is a 
 venerable and gentlemanly-looking man, and bears a high 
 reputation, I believe, but it is rather for what he has 
 been. The most able and patriotic member of the Vir- 
 ginia delegation was Mr. Gordon, who spoke always well, 
 and to the purpose. He has something of the massive- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 135 
 
 ness of Webster in his manner of speaking, and was 
 always listened to with deep interest. The several dele- 
 gations from the several states, (nine states in all,) were 
 seated each by itself. The two places of honor, the 
 front pews on each side of the broad aisle, directly in front 
 of the President's chair, were given to South Carolina 
 and Mississippi ; on the right of the latter was Virginia, 
 occupying two pews ; on the left of Carolina was Florida. 
 In the rear of South Carolina w^as Alabama, and in the 
 rear of Mississippi were placed the Georgians. The Ten- 
 nessee delegates, among whom was General Pillow, in a 
 military white vest, and Major W. H. Polk, the late Pre- 
 sident's brother, occupied the side pew on the left of the 
 pulpit. In front of the pulpit is a carpeted platform, 
 within the chancel-railing, on which a dozen little green 
 tables were placed for editors and reporters. 
 
 In the centre, before the desk, sat Judge Sharkey and 
 the vice-president. Gov. McDonald of Georgia, supported 
 by their secretaries. What, with the vast assemblage 
 before them, and the reflections upon the important sub- 
 ject which had convened such a House, the whole scene 
 was imposing and solemn in the extreme. Perhaps 
 since the meeting of the Signers of the Declaration of 
 our priceless Independence, no Convention has been as- 
 sembled in the Union, so fraught with profound and 
 sober interest as this. It was no assemblage of young 
 politicians, ambitious for notoriety. Everywhere, as I 
 looked over the house, my eyes fell on gray heads vene- 
 rable by wisdom. The majority of the members were 
 men whose names are known to the world with distinc- 
 tion, — men who are the pride, and glory, and honor of 
 the South. Governors, Judges, ex-members of Congress, 
 
136 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 eminent jurists, and distinguished orators, composed the 
 assembly. Dignified in its character, calm, and delibe- 
 rate in its debates, — as if impressed with the solem- 
 nity of their combined attitude before the country and 
 the world, — they struck me as forming, for the time 
 being, the true Congress of the country; for the consti- 
 tutional assemblies at Washington seemed to be sus- 
 pended in action while this one was in session, as if wait- 
 ing for the result of its deliberations. And there is lit- 
 tle doubt but there was as much talent in this Congress 
 as in that. All its proceedings were marked by the 
 severest parliamentary etiquette ; and I heard gentlemen, 
 who dined at the house where we were guests, say that 
 the whole tone and temper of the proceedings and 
 discussions were not unworthy of the United States 
 Senate. You see I am getting to be quite a Southerner 
 in feeling. But I must describe as I saw, and write as 
 I feel. Opposed as I was to the Convention, I cannot 
 withhold justice where it is due. At first the citizens 
 of Nashville were opposed to it; but day-by-day, as its 
 sessions advanced, it grew into favor. The galleries 
 (the people sovereign) thundered applause, and the ladies 
 smiled approbation. 
 
 The members beguiled the tedium of the reading of 
 the resolutions in going from pew to pew, chatting with 
 the beautiful women, and the sessions were thus varied 
 by some interesting flirtations on the part of the hand- 
 some widowers, and married men, too, to say nothing of 
 bachelors, who seem to live single in order to flirt. 
 Brilliant parties had been given nearly every evening to 
 the delegates, and dinner parties were the order of the 
 day. The whole city, all the time of the session, was in 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 137 
 
 delightful excitement; and fair widows and beautiful 
 girls reigned in all tlieir splendor and power. Many a 
 heart was lost, — and some of the most firm disunionists 
 brought over to the opinion that one kind of union is 
 at least very desirable. Probably Nashville has never 
 seen so gay a fortnight as that during the sitting of this 
 brilliant Convention. 
 
 The most talented and active member of the Mississippi 
 delegation was a Mr. McRea, a young man, but who 
 has made himself a m^an of mark, by the display of his 
 talents for debate on this occasion. The most exciting 
 speech made, was by the Hon. Mr. Colquitt of Georgia. 
 He is athletic, short, compact, and iron-looking, with a 
 large intellectual head, thick with wiry, gray hair, grow- 
 ing erect all over it ; a jutting, black brow, and a firm 
 mouth, the whole man and the whole face being stamped 
 with a rough, fiery energy. He rose to reply to some 
 
 moderate member, against the Compromise, I believe 
 
 and growing excited, he jumped from his pew into the 
 broad aisle, to have more space. Here he spoke with 
 iperhct abandonment! His voice rung like a buo-le ! He 
 would rapidly advance, sometimes five or six steps, as if 
 about to leap the chancel railing at a bound, and then 
 stopping full, terribly stamp, stamp his right foot, and 
 discharge his artillery-like thoughts, which seemed 
 bursting for more vehemence than he could give them ; 
 (and never man had more ;) at another time he would re- 
 treat step by step, speaking slowly in whispering irony, 
 half down the aisle, when suddenly leaping into the air, 
 his voice would explode like a shell, and electrify us all. 
 
 Now he would turn round and appeal to this delegate 
 
 now face an opposite one; now he would advance like a 
 
138 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 skirmisher, and utter hoarse, denunciatory whispers to 
 the President in the chair, as if for his especial ear. In 
 a word, he made a most extraordinary speech, in which 
 the manner of all the best orators of the land was mixed 
 up with that of some of the worst. It was in oratory, 
 what a medley would be in song ! It was wild, fierce, 
 terrible, dreadful, mad — yet most wonderful to listen to. 
 It was eloquence tied to the back of a wild horse, Ma- 
 zeppa-like ! 
 
 General Pillow also spoke several times, and spoke 
 well. I had the greatest curiosity to see him, having 
 heard so much of him. He lives in elegant and opulent 
 retirement, not far south of Nashville, and is very popular 
 in this state, and may be the next governor. All those 
 foolish stories told about him by the papers, have been 
 proved to have no foundation, and ought to be dismissed 
 from the public mind. He is in the prime of life, de- 
 cidedly a handsome man, with a marked military air. 
 There is a smile in his eyes, and which generally plays 
 about his finely shaped firm mouth, that renders the ex- 
 pression of his countenance singularly pleasing. He 
 looks like a gallant and chivalrous gentleman, and his 
 speeches were all patriotic and to the point. This dis- 
 tinguished man has been called vain, because some sup- 
 pose he wrote a self-commending account of the battle in 
 which he had fought so well. 
 
 There is classic authority for such a sentiment, which 
 I believe is not an unworthy part of human nature. 
 Pliny says, in his nineteenth letter, book ninth, to Rufo : 
 "In my opinion, every man who has acted a great, a 
 distinguished part, deserves not only io be excused, but 
 approved, if he endeavors to secure immortality to the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT UOME. 189 
 
 fame he has merited, and to perpetuate an everlasting 
 remembrance of himself." Frontinus forbade a monu- 
 ment to be erected to him, saying, " The remembrance 
 of me will remain if my actions deserve it !" Some men 
 call this modest in Frontinus, but in my opinion it is the 
 perfection of vanity ; for he is so impressed with the cer- 
 tainty that his actions will be remembered, that he pro- 
 claims it to the world. I think every man who performs 
 noble actions, should take pains that they are set right 
 for the eyes of posterity ; and if such a course be vain, 
 then is Csesar the vainest of men, as he was among the 
 bravest and wisest. 
 
 Why is it, Mr. , (listening to the debates has led 
 
 me to the reflection,) that men talk to one or tivo per- 
 sons, but declaim to a hundred ? You see the absurdity 
 of making a loud and oratorical harangue to a single 
 auditor, yet let another and another be added, till there 
 is an assembly, and the conversation is elevated to ora- 
 torical declamation. Pliny, who is a great favorite with 
 me, speaking of the same subject, says : 
 
 " The reason I imagine to be, that there is, I know 
 not what dignity in the collective sentiments of a mul- 
 titude, and though separately their judgment is, per- 
 haps, of little weight, yet, when united, it becomes re- 
 spectable." 
 
 Major Wm. H. Polk spoke two or three times early 
 in the session. He has a remarkable voice, deep as a 
 volcano. He is a handsome man, but is bearded like 
 an Ottoman chief. His manner of delivery is striking, 
 from his emphatic enunciation. With every word, he 
 makes an energetic nod forward, and the vowels are all 
 enunciated with the precision of an elocutionist, in 
 
140 TnE suxNY south; or, 
 
 particular the terminations ion, which he pronounces 
 round and full in two distinct syllables, like a Spaniard 
 speaking his own sonorous tongue. He always spoke to 
 the purpose, and with great boldness. 
 
 To show you how little popular applause can be ap- 
 pealed to as a criterion of opinions, I heard the galleries 
 one hour applaud a suggestion of " non-intercourse," and 
 the next hour a defence of the Union. After passing 
 their series of resolutions and ''Address to the Southern 
 States," on the ninth day the Convention adjourned to 
 meet again at Nashville, where they have been so 
 agreeably entertained, the sixth Monday after the ad- 
 journment of Congress, if the action of that body prove 
 hostile to Southern interests. Moderate men regard this 
 as an imprudent challenge, and perilous to be taken up. 
 
 After a few local resolutions, voting thanks to the 
 citizens of Nashville for their hospitality and to " the 
 ladies for their smiles," the president made a neat fare- 
 well speech, and the house adjourned. The gallant 
 Charleston delegation won high favor by making a pre- 
 sent to the church of a superb carpet to compensate for 
 the wear of that which covered the floor during the ses- 
 sion. These South Carolina gentlemen have a thought- 
 ful savoir faire way of doing just what ought to be done. 
 
 Now, Mr. , I have given you a sketch of my impres- 
 sions of this famed Convention. I hope you will not deem 
 it treasonable to publish it. What the result and influ- 
 ence of the action of this body will be, is not for a fe- 
 male pen to venture to say, but I believe firmly that it 
 will have a tendency to consolidate the Union. The 
 whole temper and tone of the proceedings cannot fail to 
 command the respect of the North; and I hope and 
 
TIIF SOTJTHEIINER AT HOME. IJl 
 
 heartily pray that the end of this unhappy difference will 
 be to settle upon a firmer basis, the noble political institu- 
 tions which command the admiration and homage of the 
 nations of the earth. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 Kate. 
 
142 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OP.^ 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 My dear Mr. : 
 
 I HAVE a secret for your especial ear-trumpet, but, 
 perhaps you are not old and deaf, and so don't use a 
 trumpet ; but the only two editors I ever saw, were both 
 deaf, and kept clapping their ear-trumpets to their tym- 
 pana, like two sportsmen bringing Colt's rifles to their 
 eyes. The secret is this : Last evening, Juba, who brings 
 our mail from town, placed a letter in my hand, ad- 
 dressed, "Miss Catharine Conyngham, care of Col. , 
 
 «S^c." I thought the hand-writing was my brother's, the 
 midshipman, and tore the seal w^ith fingers trembling, 
 and heart bounding. But it proved to be from an editor 
 
 — yes, Mr. , a real editor, and publisher of a weekly 
 
 literary paper. And what do you think was the pur- 
 port of it ? I dare say, if I left it to you to say, you 
 would be wicked enough to reply, "A declaration of 
 love." It was no such thing ! It was a very polite re- 
 quest that I would contribute some "Needles" to his 
 paper, and if I could not furnish him with a series of 
 "Needles," to oblige him with a series of "Tales." 
 Tales ? I, who have not the least grain of imagination, 
 write tales ! My reply I shall defer, till I hear from you 
 and have your permission ; for, I do not feel that I can, 
 in justice, contribute to any other columns without your 
 fjill consent — for you are my literary god-father, Mr. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 143 
 
 . Suppose I write a talo for you. I will try. 
 
 Perliaps it may turn out a simple affair, in that case you 
 won't publish it, and so no harm will be done. It is one 
 thing to write sketches, and quite another thing to write 
 a thrilling tale. In a week or two, I will see what I can 
 do, and send you the first fruit of my venture into the 
 w^orld of fiction, "Perhaps it may turn out a song, 
 perhaps turn out a sermon." 
 
 You Avill be interested to know that I have not heard 
 a blow struck on this estate, and the colonel says he has 
 not punished one of his slaves in seven years. It is 
 true all men are not like the good colonel, yet for the 
 most part the planters are kind and considerate towards 
 their slaves. They often give them Saturday afternoons, 
 and all day Sunday, when they appear in holiday attire, 
 gayest of the gay. They are all great lovers of going 
 to meeting, and delight in hearing preaching^ and their 
 fixed and earnest attention in church, might be an ex- 
 ample to their superiors. Marriages are performed by 
 the planters themselves, w^ith great show of ceremony, 
 by gravely reading the service from the prayer-book. 
 We had a wedding last week ; Jenny, the sempstress, a 
 pretty mulatress, being married to Charles, the ebony 
 coachman of Dr. Bellman, who lives three miles from us. 
 
 At seven o'clock, the whole party made its appearance 
 in the great hall, at one end of which stood the colonel, 
 Isabel, myself, and several friends from the neighboring 
 plantations. Dressed in white — a white satin petticoat, 
 with book-muslin robe worn over, and with a wreath of 
 flowers, which Isabel had gathered from rare plants in the 
 conservatory upon her head, with a liigh comb, and long 
 lace veil, ear-riiags, bracelets, and satin shoes with span- 
 
144 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 gles, the bride first entered, attended by her two bride's- 
 maids — one of these, my handsome negress, Eda. The 
 bride's-maids were both dressed very richly, Isabel having 
 given one of them one of her beautiful dresses, and loaned 
 her diamond pin and ruby bracelets. I also decked out 
 my Eda in a figured white muslin, two bracelets, a neck- 
 lace and brooch, and she really looked superb, with her 
 large, fine eyes and graceful figure. From the neigh- 
 boring estates were several females, handsomely dressed, 
 and wearing their mistresses' willingly loaned jewels, so 
 that, at this wedding of slaves, shone more jewels (thanks 
 to the kind indulgence of masters and mistresses) than 
 are often seen in more elegant assemblies. 
 
 The hall was soon filled, and as far as I could see into 
 the piazza beyond, was a sea of woolly heads, of "cul- 
 lered" gentlemen and ladies. Dr. Bellman, a hale gen- 
 tleman of the most frank and cordial manners, white 
 hair, ruddy cheeks, portly form, and always laughing, 
 and telling some funny story — he himself ''gave away the 
 bride." The colonel read the service for the ceremony 
 in a clear and solemn voice; and all passed oif with the 
 utmost decorum and gravity. The bride was not kissed 
 by the colonel ! The marriage ended, the vfhole party, 
 full three hundred Africans in all, went to the lower gal- 
 lerv that half surrounds the house, and is full one hun- 
 dred feet long, by eighteen wide, and here they formed 
 into cotillions. The gallery, enclosed by Venetian blinds, 
 was lighted up for the occasion, and three fiddlers, and 
 a banjo, and castinets, were perched upon a platform at 
 one end, where they played with a zeal and unweariness 
 that I had never seen equaled. At eleven o'clock, they 
 were invited by the colonel to supper, which was laid in 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 145 
 
 the gallery of the kitchen, itself a long structure, en- 
 closed by a broad piazza. We all stood by and enjoyed 
 the happiness of the Congoese festivity. One young 
 ^'cullered gentleman," brother to the bride, and some- 
 thing of a Beau Brummel in his way, remarked to me, 
 with a low bow, and with his hand on his heart — 
 
 "Nebber see, young missis, nebber see so much beauty 
 afore, at no weddin'. De ladies looks splendid, specially 
 de purty Miss Edy! She de belle ob de party!" 
 
 Throughout the supper the utmost order prevailed — 
 nay, politeness reigned! Give me "cullered gemmen" 
 at a "cullered" party for your true and genuine polite- 
 ness ! The white gemmen are not one half so courteously 
 polite to us white ladies, as they are to their "fair sec!" 
 Bows and smiles, and Brummellian bends of the body, 
 displayings of teeth, and white perfumed pocket hand- 
 kerchiefs, and glances of adoring white eyes, were the 
 chief features of the scene. 
 
 In the course of the evening, a strange, odd, amusing 
 sea captain dropped in. He had been all over the 
 world, and lived longer on a ship than on land. He was 
 now on a visit to his sister, who was married to a planter 
 who lives near us, and where we visit intimately, and 
 whom he had not seen in twenty years past. Among 
 other curiosities which he brought her, and which in- 
 cluded two live monkeys, to say nothing of ugly-faced gods 
 of all the heathen nations on earth, was a Bengal tiger ! 
 The animal had been given him when a cub, for some 
 service he had performed for some Rajah, and he had 
 kept it as a pet till it had got nearly its full growth, and 
 too large to stay in his ship. Indeed, he said that it 
 had, on the voyage home to New Orleans, nearly killed 
 10 
 
146 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 one of his seamen. So lie bronglit him up to Tennessee 
 in a cage, and his monkeys in another, and some half 
 score of splendid foreign birds in a third. No wonder, 
 as he laughingly says they did, that they took him for 
 a menagerie exhibitor. His sister was delighted with 
 the birds ! amused with the pranky monkeys ! and horri- 
 fied at the Bengal gentleman in velvet ! 
 
 This famous captain, having, as he said, "boarded us 
 in the midst of the sport," after looking on awhile, came 
 to the resolution to show us a regular built '' Guinea Coast 
 fandango dance," which he said he had often witnessed 
 on the coast of Africa. Never was any thing so ridicu- 
 lous as the scene which now took place. The captain, 
 having selected eight of the genteel " culler ed pussons," 
 four men and four women, the former in white waist- 
 coats, the latter in white muslins and net gloves, pro- 
 ceeded to explain the dance to them with amusing min- 
 uteness. 
 
 He seemed to be much surprised that they showed so 
 little aptitude to learn, expressing it as his opinion that 
 the dance ought to come to them naturally. But he 
 soon found that the fashionable African gentlemen and 
 ladies, whom he was trying to initiate into the heathen 
 mysteries of their ancestors, had no more penchant to- 
 wards such outlandish doings, than other civilized people. 
 Indeed, the cullered circle upon which he would have 
 forced this "old country" cotillion, felt their feelings 
 hurt by the insinuation which his efforts conveyed. The 
 civilized negro is very desirous to bury his pagan juba- 
 jumping ancestors in oblivion. He wishes to forget his 
 heathen origin ; and the more removed he is from them, the 
 more aristocratic he is. A newly-imported African is 
 
THE SOUTITERNEll AT HOME. 147 
 
 decidedly vulgar ! The merry captain at last gave up 
 his pupils in despair, and entertained us for an hour 
 after we reached the drawing-room, with graphic and 
 well given stories of what he had seen in far lands, "be- 
 yond the rising 23lace of the sun." 
 
 At twelve the party broke up, and the invited guests 
 from other plantations mounted their plough horses or 
 mules, loaned for the purpose, and sought their own 
 dwellings, galloping away in the moonlight, and laugh* 
 ing and talking like children on a holiday, till they were 
 out of hearing. 
 
 I forgot to say that the supper had been gotten up 
 by Isabel and myself, and that it was both handsome 
 and costly. A dozen frosted cakes, jellies, preserved 
 fruits, pies, custards, floating island, blanc mange, and 
 other nice things too numerous to mention, were upon 
 the table. In the centre, and at each end, was a pyra- 
 mid of cake, wreathed with flowers. Indeed, had the 
 colonel given a party to Isabel, her supper could not 
 have been much more elegant or expensive. 
 
 The captain, who accepted the colonel's hospitality for 
 the night, caused a great deal of sport this morning by 
 trying to ride ! He absolutely knew nothing about a 
 horse ; hardly can tell the stirrup from the bridle ! With 
 a horse-block to aid him, he got into the saddle, but the 
 horse had not trotted six steps before he was out of it 
 on the ground, having lost his balance. After three 
 attempts, each of which ended in his being tossed out 
 of his seat, by the motion of the horse, he insisted on 
 being tied by the feet, or " lashed under the keel," as 
 he called it. Peter, the black hostler, always accustomed 
 to obey, gratified him by performing this favor for him, 
 
148 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and thus firmly secured, he gave the animal the hit 
 and a blow with his fist simultaneously on the haunch. 
 The consequence was that Arab, who is a spirited fellow, 
 set off with him at full gallop, and as the park-gate was 
 fortunately not open to the forest, he swept with him at 
 full speed round and round the circular carriage-way of 
 the lawn. Isabel and I were already in our saddles, for 
 we were going out on a morning gallop, and we began to 
 feel some anxiety for the worthy captain, who passed us 
 bare-headed, his teeth set, and his hands grasping Arab's 
 mane, while the reins flew wildly in the air. If the 
 rope, by which his feet were tied, had parted, he would 
 have been dashed to the earth. As it was, he began to 
 slip, and hang sidewise upon the horse's neck, and I 
 really believe if the colonel's commanding voice had not 
 caused Arab to stop, the captain would the next minute 
 have been underneath the horse, with his feet bottom 
 upwards over the saddle ! 
 
 " I would rather ride out an equinoctial gale, lashed 
 to the fore-top gallant cross-trees !" cried the captain, 
 as he was relieved from his perilous situation, ''than 
 mount a live animal again ! Nature never intended the 
 critters to be backed !" 
 
 I like the captain, because I have discovered that he 
 saw and spoke with my recovered brother in the Medi- 
 terranean, where he visited his ship ; and I felt with him 
 in his defeat, and declined to ride. 
 
 How necessary it is that we should behold men in their 
 proper position and pursuits, in order to know and give 
 them due honor ! Out of them they are often ridiculous, 
 helpless, and ignorant. Here is a man who could battle 
 with a storm on the ocean, and ride upon the wings of 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 149 
 
 the hurricane, its master ! who would unerringly guide a 
 mighty ship across the pathless waste of waters, and 
 who, by his skill, had belted the round earth; whose 
 courageous eye had met fearful perils without quailing, 
 and whose manly voice had given courage and rekindled 
 hope in the sinking bosom of the timid — here was this 
 man, on land, in unfamiliar scenes, surpassed and laughed 
 at by the least, ragged, black urchin that can bestride a 
 wild colt. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
150 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 Deae Mr. 
 
 You will remember that I promised to write a tale, 
 or rather to make the attempt. I have written one, and 
 will send it to you for your decision. I hope you will 
 be very severe with it, and reject it at once, if it is 
 wanting in the points that go to make up a ^'thrilling 
 story." Do not let any consideration for my vanity 
 (what woman is without vanity, especially one who writes 
 for printers?) prevent you from judging and condemning 
 impartially ; for candor on your side may save me on 
 my side from many a foolish perpetration in the literary 
 way hereafter. If editors would show more courage and 
 candor, there would be fewer scribblers, and more ster- 
 ling writers. So, if they complain that periodical lite- 
 rature is at a low ebb, they ought to blame their own 
 indolent criticisms, and not fasten the guilt upon poor 
 literateurs, who only live upon the nod of the editorial 
 tribunal. It depends wholly on you editors, sir, whe- 
 ther our manuscript sees print or lights candles. You 
 will now understand, Mr. — ' — , that I am honest in 
 wishing you to be so ; for if you, in the goodness of 
 your heart, and because "I am a lady," publish my 
 story, and it is a poor one, I shall write nothing else 
 but just such poor talcs all my life ! There is my fore- 
 linger up Avith the caution. Do you know that Isabel 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 151 
 
 has a very neat talent for vrriting ? I have some of her 
 MSS. which woukl delight you, and if you will never tell, 
 I will send you some of it, but you must not publish it 
 for the world, if you like it never so much, for it is a 
 " dead secret." 
 
 I have a beautiful story to tell you of Isabel. A few 
 
 days since she went to C , twenty miles distant, in 
 
 the stage. Among the passengers was a white-headed, 
 poorly-clad man, with his arm in a sling, and lame from 
 a bullet in his knee. He was pale, and seemed to suffer, 
 yet was cheerful, and related to her deeply thrilling 
 stories of his war scenes in Mexico, where he received 
 the wounds which now disabled him. He had been for 
 some months in a hospital, at New Orleans, and was now 
 just returning to his family, after two years' absence, and 
 moneyless. At the inn, at Columbia, he alighted with 
 difficulty, and appeared so ill that Isabel told the land- 
 lord that if he Vfould send for a physician, and have him 
 well attended to, she would be responsible. Isabel was 
 then driven to the elegant residence to which she was 
 going on a visit. After tea, she took a bundle of com- 
 forts, and in her friend's carriage drove to the inn, 
 sought out the old soldier, who was very sick in bed, 
 bathed his temples, and even assisted the doctor in ban- 
 daging his arm. She remained nursing him two hours, 
 and then left money to hire an attendant. After an 
 illness of a week, every day of which saw Isabel at his 
 bedside, the old white-headed soldier recovered so as to 
 pursue his journey, his expenses paid from the purse 
 of this benevolent and generous girl, who is as good as 
 she is brave and beautiful. How few girls of seventeen 
 would have thought a second time of the old soldier 
 
152 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 after leaving him at the inn ! When Isabel was asked 
 by a fashionable friend, "how she could do so?" she an- 
 swered like a true Tennessee girl, " Soldiers fight the bat- 
 tles of our country, and the least we can do is to cherish 
 them in their helplessness, and bind up their Avounds. 
 Every true American woman, who loves her country and 
 the defenders of its glory and honor, would have done as 
 I did." 
 
 Her father heard this spirited yet modest repl}^, and 
 taking her in his arms, he kissed her on both cheeks, 
 and smiling with pride called her a " true soldier's 
 daughter. ' ' 
 
 A letter came this morning from the old man, to Isabel, 
 and every line is glowing with praise of her, and warm 
 with grateful words — though some of them are spelled 
 wrong. But the heart has little heed of orthography. 
 I know a lady who always slips in her spelling, when 
 she writes a letter under any deep emotion. I do not go 
 so far as a certain matter of fact, but warm hearted 
 doctor, whose early education had not been done full 
 justice to, whose maxim was " correct spelling and a cool 
 head go together ; but a warm heart don't stop to pick 
 letters." If the old soldier had not written so heartily, 
 therefore, it is very likely, we see, that his orthography 
 might have been less erratic. 
 
 You recollect that I alluded to a Bengal tiger, in my 
 last. I have quite an incident to relate of which he was 
 {he hero, and I one of the heroines, alas ! a poor heroine 
 you will say when you hear the story. 
 
 Three days ago, the colonel, Isabel, and I, were invited 
 to spend the day and dine at the plantation of Mr. Henry 
 Elliott, the gentleman who is husband to our riding sea- 
 
THE SOUTHEENER AT HOME. 153 
 
 captain's sister. After half an hour's delightful drive in 
 the carriage, along a picturesque road, with a brawling 
 brook on one side, running at even pace with the horses, 
 and woods and rocks overhanscing; on the other, we 
 
 CD O ' 
 
 reached the tasteful, Eno-lish-lookino; mansion which was 
 to terminate our drive. 
 
 After dinner, while Isabel was standing by a marble 
 table, looking over a superb copy of Boydell's Shaks- 
 peare, by her side, Harry Elliott, a handsome young 
 collegian, at home on vacation, admiring her rather than 
 the pictures to which she was drawing his attention, and 
 while I was seated in a lounge, reading Simms' last novel 
 to Mrs. Elliott; and the colonel, and "the captain," and 
 our host were smoking their cigars on the front portico, 
 suddenly, with a bound as noiseless as that of a cat, the 
 Bengal tiger entered through an open window, and 
 pounced into the drawing room. Mrs. Elliott sprung to 
 her feet, and pointed in speechless horror at the terrible 
 and beautiful creature, as it stood for a moment where 
 it touched the soft carpet, and gazed slowly and fear- 
 lessly around as if selecting its victim from one of us. 
 Isabel and her young friend had not yet seen him, their 
 backs being towards the window. As for poor me, I sat 
 like a statue, motionless and without power of motion. 
 The blood froze in my veins ! I caught the glittering 
 eyes of the tiger, and, for an instant, was fascinated ; 
 and I do not know, if he had not turned away his look 
 with dignified contempt, that I should not have risen up 
 and advanced irresistibly, like a charmed bird towards 
 the serpent, lie moved a step, crouching. I looked at 
 Mrs. Elliott. I saw courage coming into her eyes, and 
 she said to me, whispering, " If I catch his eye, I can 
 
154 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 detain and cower him." But ere she could catch it, the 
 tiger advanced three fearful bounds, and then Isabel, for 
 the first time, beheld him ! Harry Elliott no sooner 
 saw him, than he laid one hand on the wrist of Isabel, 
 who seemed to gaze more with wonder than with fear 
 upon the mottled Bengalese, and pointed with the 
 other to the piano. 
 
 " To the piano, Isabel ! Play, quickly ! Music, or 
 he will do mischief — music, quickly !" 
 
 The tiger now slowly sunk down couchant upon the 
 carpet, and I could see him unsheath his curved white 
 claws, and his eyes burned as if fires were kindled in 
 their orbs. He seemed about to spring upon Henry, 
 who fixed his gaze resolutely upon him with a courage I 
 could not but admire, terrified as I was at such a draw- 
 ing-room companion. My fears were not lessened by the 
 recollection, which just then came upon me, that I had 
 been told that day as one of the feats of the '' captain's 
 pet" that he would snap ofi" a cat's head at a bite, and 
 make nothing of it. I always knew my head was small, 
 and I felt that it w^as now smaller than ever. The hor- 
 rid creature gaped all at once, as if to increase my 
 apprehensions, and I was now certain he would make as 
 sure of my head as a guillotine would do it. 
 
 Isabel glided backward, pale as snow, and as cold, — 
 glided backward, step by step, so as not to seem to re- 
 treat, and reached the piano. Running her icy, cold 
 fingers over the keys in a fearfully brilliant prelude, she 
 commenced a superb cavalry march, — a new Hungarian 
 piece — with a world of war music in it. The tiger, as 
 soon as she began to play, rose from his crouching atti- 
 tude, and moved with a sedate step to the piano, and 
 
THE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 155 
 
 took his stand by Isabel, and so near that her snowy 
 arm, as she reached to the distant keys, would nearly 
 touch his glossy shoulder. We were as still as death! 
 We began to have faith in the music, seeing that he no- 
 ticed it in so marked a manner, for he stood as if listen- 
 ing, charmed. 
 
 White as a Medician statue, yet Isabel played on. I 
 expected each instant to see her fall from the music 
 stool, or pause in pure terror, when I felt confident the 
 fangs of the terrible creature would be buried in her 
 bosom. Yet we dared not give the alarm! The voices 
 of the three gentlemen could be heard on the gallery, yet 
 we feared to call for aid lest we should draw the tiger to 
 spring upon us. So silent, and nearly dead with awful 
 fear, we waited the issue, trusting to Providence, or the 
 music, for a diversion in our favor. 
 
 Henry Elliott, in the meanwhile, leaving Isabel play- 
 ing, stole out of the room, unseen by the tiger, and 
 reaching the portico, made known to the gentlemen, in 
 scarcely articulate words, the state of affairs in the 
 drawing room. Mr. Elliott would have run for his rifle, 
 and the colonel was calling for pistols, when the captain, 
 motioning for them both to preserve silence, hastened to 
 the scene of danger. When I saw him enter I felt inex- 
 pressibly relieved, for I believed in him that he could 
 help us. He moved noiselessly across the room, and 
 coming round at the end of the piano, he faced the 
 animal, and bending his glance upon him, he caught the 
 glittering eye of the tiger full with his own ! The effect 
 of his fixed and commanding gaze upon him was won- 
 derful. The monster gradually dropped his body upon 
 his haunches, and sank quietly into an attitude of sub- 
 
156 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 mission at Isabel's feet. The captain then placed himself 
 at a bound between her and the animal, and grasping 
 him by his jaw, he spoke to him in a tone so absolute 
 and bold, that he rose and suffered himself to be led out 
 of the room like a hound, and locked up in his cage in 
 the poultry yard. He had no sooner disappeared than 
 Isabel, who had not ceased to play, dropped to the floor, 
 but half-arrested in her fall by her father's embracing 
 arm. Mrs. Elliott fainted outright. As for myself, I 
 did nothing but cry for half an hour, I was so happy we 
 had all escaped so well. Even the courageous Harry's 
 voice trembled two hours afterwards when he was con- 
 gratulating me on my escape. 
 
 And was it not an escape, Mr. ? To be called 
 
 upon by a gentleman tiger, and only saved from being 
 eaten up by him by treating his lordship with music. It 
 appeared, on inquiry, that the captain had let his '' pet" 
 out for air, and tied him to a chestnut tree that stands 
 in the centre of the yard, from which freeing himself, 
 he had taken the liberty of bounding into the parlor, 
 through the window which opens directly upon the lawn. 
 
 You may be sure, we, and Mrs. Elliott in particular, 
 gave the captain a good rating for bringing such a pet 
 into a peaceable neighborhood, frightening young ladies 
 out of their senses. Mrs. Elliott roundly informed her 
 brother that the monster must be shot, or she should not 
 sleep a wink all night for thinking he might get into the 
 bed-room. 
 
 The captain, w4io had been terribly alarmed at our 
 perilous situations, promised he should be shot, but said 
 he could not have the heart to be the death of his old 
 friend. It was decided that the negro driver of the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 157 
 
 estate should kill him, but the black objected from some 
 superstitious feeling, when Harry Elliott proposed that 
 he should be turned loose in the forest and hunted down ! 
 This proposition, so promising of a new kind of sport in 
 the way of Western hunting, was warmly accepted, and 
 would, no doubt, have been carried out, if some one had 
 not started the objection that he might not be easily shot 
 in the chase, and if left to roam the park, might do some 
 fatal mischief Whereupon, Mr. Elliott went out and 
 shot the handsome, wild brute through the head, with a 
 rifle, at five paces. The captain would not see the deed 
 done, and remaining in the house, jammed his fingers in 
 his ears, to shut out the report of the gun that sealed the 
 fate of his friend. The poor tiger died instantly, and 
 we all went out to look at him as he lay on the green 
 grass, now quite harmless, yet looking strong and terrible 
 in death. He was a beautiful fellow, with the glossiest, 
 silkiest hide, barred and spotted brown and black. The 
 captain says it shall be made into housings for Isabel's 
 saddle and mine. Moreover, he has given me two 
 monkeys and a superb bird of paradise, his sister, Mrs. 
 Elliott, having been made so nervous by the late tiger 
 adventure, pointedly refusing to have any more of the 
 outlandish citizens of earth or air on her premises. Two 
 
 monkeys, Mr. ! And merry, ugly, little men they 
 
 are, wrinkled as a negro a hundred years old, and mis- 
 chievous as two imps satanic. They are both with chains 
 round their bodies, fastened one at one pillar and another 
 at another pillar of the gallery, so that they can run up 
 and down at pleasure, and all the little "miniature 
 humans" do, is to take their pleasure. 
 
 They have done nothing all day but eat nuts and cakes, 
 
158 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 mow and chat together, and make faces at the negroes. 
 The old slaves seem to look upon them with an evil eye 
 and a spice of fear. Our okl African says they are 
 "Goobah — no good — hab old one in 'em!" The young 
 fry among the blacks — the little niggers — go mad with 
 delight at witnessing their pranks, wonder at their having 
 tails, and seem to regard them as in some sort cousin- 
 germans of their own race, mysteriously tailed, an addi- 
 tion which they evidently look upon with envy. My 
 magnificent bird of paradise has a disagreeable voice, 
 like a creaking cart wheel, and yet his plumage is splendid 
 beyond description ! With all his prismatic glory, the 
 little brown mocking-bird that sings under my window 
 half the night long, by moonlight, is worth a score of 
 them. The eye soon wearies with the monotony of 
 beauty, but the ear never with the harmony of sound. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
TTIE SOITTIIEIINER AT HOME. 159 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 Did you ever go a fishing ? If you have not, I ad- 
 vise you to buy a rod and line, and start brookward on 
 such an adventure; if you have been, you will know 
 how to appreciate my happiness yesterday, when I tell 
 you that I spent it in fishing ! Early in the morning my 
 Afric maid, Eda, stole softly by my bedside, and waking 
 me gently, as if half afraid she should wake me, reminded 
 me that "we were all to go fishing to-day." I was soon 
 dressed in my stout pongee habit, which I wear when I 
 go into the forests, and which just fits my figure. Eda 
 brought me a broad-brimmed leghorn, which I put on, 
 with the brim flapping over my eyes, and shading me 
 like an umbrella, — a sort of man's hat, which the 
 colonel's care for our "fair complexions" had provided 
 for both Bel and me. I also wore a pair of masculine 
 
 boots; real Wellingtons, Mr. , but made of the 
 
 softest calf-skin, and setting to the foot like a glove. 
 The high heels added full an inch and a half to my sta- 
 ture, whereat I was not a little vain. Upon descending 
 to the hall, I found Isabel all ready, in man's hat and 
 boots, and a jockey looking tunic of green cloth, elegantly 
 embroidered over the bust, to which it Avas charmingly 
 confined by a broad, glazed, black belt, "clipping the 
 slender waist," and secured by a silver buckle, Her 
 
IGO THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 small feet looked perfectly bewitching in Jier huzzar-like 
 boots, and she wore her sombrero with such a dashing, 
 don't-I-look-like-a-very-pretty-boy air, a little tipped 
 over her left ear, that, with her fine Spanish eyes and 
 expressive face, she looked bewitching enough to fall in 
 love with. 
 
 How is it, good Mr. , that pretty girls always 
 
 become additionally attractive in masculine costume? A 
 woman never looks so young as in her riding costume, 
 and for the reason that it is partly copied from the dress 
 of the other sex. And have you never been struck with 
 the youthful look a boy's hat, worn upon the side of the 
 head of a woman of thirty years old imparts to her, giv- 
 ing to her face the juvenility of a handsome lad of six- 
 teen? Solve me this mj^'stery, sir Editor, for editors 
 are, of course, supposed to be able to solve everything ! 
 
 The colonel was in his brown linen hunting coat, with 
 six pockets therein and thereabouts. Having compli- 
 mented us upon our good looks and becoming costmne, 
 he escorted us to the room, where a nice hot breakfast was 
 awaiting us. After a hearty meal, partaken of in high, 
 good spirits, we prepared to mount our ponies. Two 
 servants were already in attendance upon the gallery; 
 one of them with long rods, for each of us, full twenty 
 feet in length, with hair lines neatly affixed, and boxes 
 of bait — writhing ground worms ! The other was laden 
 with a basket of provisions, nicely covered with a snow- 
 white napkin, in spite of w^hich, peeped out the red-waxed 
 neck of a claret bottle, and also there was just visible 
 the wire-tied cork of a champagne bottle ! But don't tell 
 
 the temperance people, Mr. ! You know, or if you 
 
 don't know, you know noAv, that nobody can go fishing 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 161 
 
 Without such mystic appurtenances in the dinner-basket 
 
 at least in these parts. All being a-saddle, and in high 
 pulse, we started on our expedition to war against the 
 innocent fishes. We proceeded in the following order. 
 First, astride a half-broken colt, as shaggy as a bear, 
 rode a young negro urchin in a torn straw hat, and with 
 naked feet. He was pioneer to open the several gates 
 that lay in our road across the plantation. Next rode 
 the colonel, smoking a cigar, and gaily talking wdth Isa- 
 bel and myself upon the probability of our being joined 
 by the "tiger captain" and young Harry Elliott at the 
 Seven Oaks, and questioning whether the former could 
 be prevailed upon to mount a horse! Behind us came 
 the gray-headed servant who carried the basket and bait, 
 mounted upon a horse as venerable as himself, and 
 whose ribbed sides he ceaselessly thumped with his two 
 heels, keeping time thereat with every step made by his 
 Rozinante. He was followed by black John, so called 
 to distinguish him from another John on the estate, who 
 is not quite so dead a black as the "black John." He 
 rode a sober, long-eared mule, and carried the slender 
 fishing rods on his shoulder, which as he trotted, bent 
 with the motion like whale-bone. The mule had an odd 
 fashion of throwing out his left hind leg at every third 
 step, which created a rolling motion to his rider, that 
 was infinitely ludicrous. 
 
 What a merry ride we all had! The colonel sang, 
 and his manly voice made the old woods ring again. 
 Isabel laughed to liste^ to the laughing echo, and I 
 shouted! The Africans -^^ere delighted in our delight, 
 and laughed after their fashion, and the little ragamuffin 
 t'eter, oiu' gate opener, who alwavs takes liberties, and 
 11 
 
162 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 is notably sfincy, whooped and turned somersets on Ms 
 pony's back from excess of animal spirits. 
 
 Three miles from the house we crossed the turnpike 
 road which leads to Nashville. A stage coach was going 
 by at the time, and the passengers looked at us with 
 hard curiosity, and seemed to be amused at the appear- 
 ance of our motley cavalcade, the rear of which I ought 
 to have said was brought up by three dogs, one of whom 
 was a majestic full-blooded Newfoundland. Not far be- 
 hind the stage, came a handsome traveling carriage, from 
 the window of which a gentleman hailed the colonel. As 
 
 we rode up he was presented to us as a General P , 
 
 one of the most distinguished officers whose valor in 
 Mexico elevated the military glory of our Republic. 
 After some conversation we separated, he to drive on to 
 his princely estate, a few leagues southward, we to enter 
 the forests and wind our way to the stream. Half a 
 mile from the pike we came to the Seven Oaks, a noble 
 group of forest trees standing by themselves in an open 
 area, where several woodland roads meet. AYe had hardly 
 reached it when the colonel shouted — 
 
 "Here they come! Voild the captain." 
 
 Looking in the direction he indicated, we beheld Henry 
 Elliott riding by the side of an old doctor's sulky, in 
 which was harnessed, a tall, long-bodied steed, which as 
 it drew nearer, proved to be stone-blind. At first we 
 could not distinguish whom the ark-like vehicle contained, 
 but a loud shout to us like Neptune hailing a war-ship in 
 a high wind, left us in no doubt as to the personality of 
 the occupant. Harry, mounted on a superb hunter, and 
 dressed with picturesque effect, but without foppishness, 
 which he is too handsome and sensible to be guilty of, on 
 
THE SOUTITERXF.R AT HOME. 163 
 
 discovering us left Ins companion and galloped forward 
 to join us. How superbly he rode ! yet "with the ease 
 and natural attitude of a Comanche chief. He was 
 Iau2;hin2: as he came on, and well might he lauo;h. 
 
 The sulky w*as shrieking in anguish at every revolu- 
 tion of its rattling wheels ; the horse reared behind and 
 pitched before with a double-jointed, spasmodic locomotion, 
 that shook the captain from his seat within at every jerk. 
 The vehicle, the horse, the sulky, and the wheels had 
 each a several and independent motion of progression, 
 which four being combined, produced a compound move- 
 ment of the whole, unlike any thing on the earth, or un- 
 der the earth, or in the sea. We all shouted! The 
 captain reached us and then tried to stop his headway; 
 but the ancient horse had an iron jaw calloused by long 
 use, that no bit would twist or hart, and it was plainly 
 apparent that, once under weigh, and propelled by the 
 complex motions of the entire machinery, he could not 
 stop if he would. 
 
 "'Vast heaving ahead! Luff! — Luff you beast!" 
 shouted the captain, with stentorian energy, as he was 
 passing us, pulling at the reins. "This land craft is the 
 crankiest clipper I ever g-g-got a-a-bo-ar-d-d of!" cried 
 he, the last words being jolted out of him by one of 
 the four motions. "'Vast there and heave to! What 
 an infer-fer-na-nal sea is running! — Co-co-co-co-col-on- 
 n-el, heave us a rope! Bear a hand here, some of you 
 darkies, or I shall soon be hull down and out o' sight to 
 leeward !" 
 
 The colonel rode ahead of the blind and still des- 
 perately-plunging-forward animal, and had no sooner 
 
164 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 touched his head lightly with his whip than he stood 
 stock still 
 
 "Thank'ee, colonel, thank'ee," said the old seaman, 
 as he scrambled over the wheel to the ground; ''that 
 craft is the hardest thing I ever steered ! Catch me 
 aboard of one of your land craft again, if I can help it ! 
 You see this mad-cap nephew of mine wanted to tempt 
 me to ride a horse; but I have had enough of that. 
 Don't laugh, girls, — but it is true. So, cruising about 
 the stables, I run athwart this old lugger, stowed high 
 and dry, and covered with dust and cobwebs. Elliott 
 said it had belonged to a doctor who once lived at the 
 plantation, and it was now condemned as unseaworthy. 
 But so long as it didn't leak, and the spars were sound, 
 I didn't care. So I had her hauled out into the stream, 
 her old rigging overhauled, and this blind horse o' my 
 own choosing, out of a score o' faster and better ones to 
 tow it along. And here you see me, with my innards 
 shook out, because I forgot to put ballast aboard to keep 
 her trim ; and then, for yaAving wide before the wind, I 
 never saw the equal of that blind beast ; and as for short- 
 ening sail or coming-to off port, he doesn't know what 
 that means." 
 
 We all enjoyed the captain's professional account of 
 his voyage, and, as the stream was yet a mile off, we set 
 forward, the captain once more aboard his land craft, but 
 with the precaution of having one of the negro men lead 
 the blind horse along, with his hand on his head-stall. 
 Relieved ''by this towing," as he termed it, from the 
 direct command of the vessel, the captain lighted a 
 cigar, lolled along and smoked as well as he could for 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 165 
 
 the rougli sea produced by the resumption of the quadru- 
 plex motion of the whole apparatus. 
 
 We at length reached the creek, though Isabel and 
 Harry were somehow loiterers, and always were, someJioiv, 
 on such occasions, and did not come up till we had 
 alighted. What a delightful spot it was where we stopped 
 to prepare for our sport ! Mighty trees overshadowing 
 us, a limpid stream eighty feet wide at our feet, its clear 
 waters sparkling over snowy sands, and gurgling and 
 rushing around and between gray mossy rocks lying in 
 its bed. 
 
 Higher up was a waterfall, with a constant murmur, 
 and to the left of us the bank receded, leaving a dark, 
 deep pool, in the depths of which, the darting fish, in 
 their silvery armor, gleamed like meteors in a lower 
 sky. Just where we alighted was a verdant carpet of 
 soft thick grass, with three or four fine old rocks scat- 
 tered over it like granite lounges, which use we made 
 of three of them ; the fourth having a shape somewhat 
 tabular, being converted by us into a table for our pic- 
 nic dinner. Altogether, the place was romantic, secluded, 
 and still, and would have delighted dear good Izaak Wal- 
 ton, whose shade we invoked as we prepared our lines 
 for the sport ! Sport ! ah, poor Pisces ! what was to 
 be sport to us, was death to you ! But so goes life, 
 
 Mr. ; one half of God's creatures, both brute and 
 
 intelligent, pursue their pleasure at the expense of the 
 other half. 
 
 The tiger-captain attached himself assiduously to me 
 for the day, no doubt seeing that Isabel was well provided 
 for in young Elliott's devoted attentions, and taking pity 
 upon a lonely demoiselle. He taught mc how to cut 
 
166 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 bullets half through, and affix them to the line for sinkers ; 
 he gave me a lesson in making and fitting a quilled cork ; 
 initiated me into the mysteries of "bending on a hook," 
 which good Mrs. Partington could do, as it is done by 
 knitting stitches upon the shaft, as one would upon a 
 needle ; and he gave me a horrid lesson in the art of 
 scientifically putting a worm upon the hook. The squirmy 
 creatures, how they did curl about my fingers. ! yet I was 
 afraid to incur the captain's contempt by even shrieking 
 or throwing them from me. But isn't it a cruel murder, 
 sir, to cut in three sections a living worm, and then 
 thread longitudinally your barbed hook with one of the 
 soft, cold, twisting pieces ? But a lady who goes a fish- 
 ing with a sea-captain who has tigers for pets, must have 
 no nerves. I found the captain an admirable instructor. 
 He showed me where to find the deep pools, and how to 
 cast my line thirty feet outwardly at a sweep, without 
 bungling or lodging it in the branches overhead. He 
 instructed me how to watch the little green and red 
 painted cork, and how to spring the line when it bobbed 
 under — in a word, he proved a valuable comrade for a 
 tyro in fishing like me, and an unexceptionable beau, 
 except when I once let a large trout drag my hook, line, 
 pole, and all out of my grasp, and dart away with it 
 down the stream like a rocket, when he " made a great 
 swear," as I heard an Indian say of another great per- 
 sonage. With this nautical exception, the tiger-captain 
 was a delightful companion on a fishing picnic. 
 
 After three or four hours of various successes, during 
 which some eighty -five fish were caught by the whole 
 party, negroes included, one of the servants announced, 
 '"Pic-nic ready, Massas and Misseses !" 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 167 
 
 As the captain and I, after winding np our lines, has- 
 tened to the spot, I passed the little negro Pete squatted 
 on a rock, fishing, holding a huge stick for a pole, with 
 twine for line, and, for bait-box, the caj^tain said that he 
 made use of his enormous mouth, which he kept full of 
 live worms ready for use ! Oh, shocking, Peter ! 
 
 It took some time to find Isabel and Harry, who, at 
 length, made their appearance from up the stream, but 
 with only three fish between them. I suspect they passed 
 their time so pleasantly in each other's society, that they 
 thought little of the little fishes. The captain rallied 
 them on their ill luck, and made them both blush. We 
 had a capital feast under the trees, with the grass for 
 our seats, and a rock for our table. I placed a chance 
 copy of the Picayune before me for a table-cloth, and 
 thus, reading and eating, I enjoyed '' a feast of rea- 
 son," as well as a more substantial one. We had ham, 
 sandwiches, pickles, cold-chicken, cold broiled pigeons, 
 salad, pic-nic crackers, Scotch ale, champagne, and 
 claret. The two negro men waited on us with the pre- 
 cision and etiquette of the dining-room. Our horses, and 
 ponies, and mules, picturesquely tethered around us, 
 cropped the grass, or stood, meditating, doubtless, upon 
 our conduct, our laughter, our toasts, our uproarious be- 
 haviour, so in contrast with thei?' sedate gravity, which 
 never departs from its propriety. Especially the cap- 
 tain's blind horse looked melancholy and lonely, tied to 
 the wheel of the sulky, with a basket of corn hanging 
 at the end of his venerable nose. At every Borean 
 burst of quarter-deck laughter from the captain, he 
 would crop his overgrown ears, and roll his white, fishy- 
 looking eyes about as if in bodily apprehension. 
 
168 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 We toasted, in lady-like sips of the iced wine, the 
 President, Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, and Jenny Lind, 
 and, in silence, drank to the memory of the warrior-sage 
 of the Hermitage, who sleeps not many hours' ride from 
 where we were. It would be difficult to impress persons 
 out of Tennessee with the veneration with which the 
 green memory of the Hero of New Orleans is held by all 
 Tennesseans. Through the rolling ages, his secluded 
 tomb will be the fane of pilgrimage for the sons of this 
 state. We intend shortly to pay a second visit to the 
 Hermitage, of which I will give you an account after- 
 wards. 
 
 After our pic-nic dinner was over, the table-rock was 
 
 vacated to the servants, and the gentlemen laid at length 
 
 on the grassy bank, smoked, and entertained us with 
 
 stories. 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. IGO 
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 I HAVE had a mind to make this a literary "Needle" 
 and talk book ; for I have lately been reading so many 
 delightful authors, that, like the busy bee, the wings of 
 my soul are laden with their sweets, and I must, per 
 force, make honey. The last work I have laid down, is 
 "Emerson's Representative Men." How suggestive is 
 this book! How it teems with thought, and food for 
 thought! How deep he goes down into the being of 
 man, and how he walks among the stars ! What a faculty 
 he has for putting mind into type ! He touches nothing 
 that he does not find a kernel in it, where most other 
 writers and thinkers see only a husk. He beholds with 
 the eye of the poet, and the contemplation of the sage, 
 the "splendor of meaning" that plays over the visible 
 world, and by its light, he looks down, down into the 
 human heart, and then tells us with terrible strength of 
 word, all he discovers there! We tremble before the 
 man w^ho thus boldly drops his plumb-line into the abyss 
 of our being, and reports to us its depth. 
 
 Mr. Emerson has a great mind. Grave errors of 
 theory he has, but new and hitherto untold truths so 
 burn in his pages, that his discrepancies are lost in their 
 light. His sentences are a "carved thought," every one 
 of them. He uses words for the frame Avork of his pre- 
 cious thoughts with the economy of a jeweler, his gold 
 
170 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 in setting precious stones. Every page is an intellec- 
 tual pabulum on which the intellect of a man may be 
 nourished. He sets you thinking, and thinking, and 
 thinking ! He has the rare talent of expressing to the 
 eye the deep and unbroken musings of the spirit of man 
 about God, about Nature, about the mystery of the past, 
 the awe of the future, the riddle of life, the infinitude of 
 the Universe — musings that all indulge, but never impart 
 the secret of what they think. Mr. Emerson puts such 
 twilight and star-light thoughts into shape, and startles 
 us at recognizing them, as much as if we had seen our 
 own ghosts rising from the misty emptiness of space! 
 We all love to discover that our own speculations upon 
 the mysteries that surround us, have been the specula- 
 tions of another mind ; and if that other mind will lead 
 us farther than we have gone, we follow with a charmed 
 awe, confident in his pilotage, though he lead us into the 
 unfathomable ! 
 
 Some of Mr. Emerson's propositions and opinions 
 savour of Swedenborg, of Grecian philosophy, of Jewish 
 skepticism, of German transcendentalism, neither of 
 which by itself complete, yet in combination they pro- 
 duce a synthetic whole, that is the just representative of 
 the modern mind of philosophy. If Mr. Emerson could 
 only combine a fifth element in his circle, the humble 
 faith of the New Testament, his philosophy w^ould be in- 
 destructible. How so great a mind can approach so 
 near the Cross and not see it, and be dazzled by its 
 glory, is to me a cause of the profoundest marvel. Aside 
 from this radical defect in his philosophy, his book is 
 laden with the richest intellectual ore which the wise 
 searcher will gather, and know how to free from the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 171 
 
 alloy. Did Mr. Emerson live in the days of Plato, lie 
 would have founded an Academy of Philosophy, to which 
 the youth of that classic land would have flocked to learn 
 wisdom! Why do not our learned and wise men now 
 become teachers like the old philosophers ? Such a 
 man as Emerson might crowd his rural retirement with 
 intellectual young men, and establish a school of thought, 
 that would produce a positive effect upon the age. 
 
 But rather let our able divines become such teachers 
 in Christian Philosophy, such men as — but I will not 
 give the names that come to my pen, lest it should seem 
 invidious ; if these able doctors of divinity would open 
 their homes, they would be filled with disciples. If emi- 
 nent retired physicians would receive young men as 
 discipuli, how many would avail themselves' of the privi- 
 lege ! If retired lawyers and statesmen would thus be- 
 come teachers of legal and political philosophy, how 
 many talented youths of our land would become rivals 
 for these inestimable advantages ! Suppose it were un- 
 derstood that Henry Clay (God bless him) or Daniel 
 Webster (all honor be to his mighty mind) would, the 
 one at Ashland, the other at Marshfield, receive a limited 
 number of disciples, to instruct them in "the things of 
 their wisdom," what price would be counted by ambitious 
 young Americans, if they could attain to the honor of 
 sitting at their feet? Schools of politics are needed in 
 our country, where statesmen should be graduated ! 
 
 Dear me ! Mr. , how boldly I am making my pen 
 
 write! Only a young woman, perhaps I ought not to 
 touch upon such weighty matters; but please permit me 
 to suggest that there ought to be a Diplomatic College 
 at Washington, where our Foreign Ministers, Charges, 
 
172 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 &c., should be educated, and take out diplomas, certify- 
 ing their qualifications to hold those important positions, 
 by the incumbents of Avhich our country is judged by all 
 nations. The requisites should be a thorough knowledge 
 of international law, of the elementary principles of our 
 Federal Constitution, and those of the thirty States, of 
 the history, products, resources, and commerce of the 
 country, the history of political parties, and the internal 
 operation of our domestic institutions. Lastly, as a 
 sine qua non, they should write and speak French 
 fluently, the ignorance of which in nearly all our foreign 
 ministers renders them incompetent, and often ridicu- 
 lous. 
 
 There, Mr. , I've done on this hobby. 
 
 Another book I have been reading is Dickens' ^' Cop- 
 perfield." I do not read novels often, nor do I read 
 them ever for the story or plot, but for the thoughts 
 which the writer may string upon it. Dickens' stories 
 seldom have any but the most indifferent plots. He 
 never invents surprises, but writes you a story as trans- 
 parent as gossamer. Nobody looks for plots in this 
 charming writer, but for his witty sparklings, his quiet 
 humor, his inimitable sketches of character, his pic- 
 tures of every-day people, whom we afterwards do not 
 so much seem to have read about as to have known. 
 This deficiency of plot, which characterizes Dickens' 
 stories, and their wealth of original ideas, is what ren- 
 ders young people somewhat indifferent to reading them, 
 and more mature heads fond of them. Like Emerson, 
 he is an analyzer, but Emerson builds theories on what 
 he discovers, while Dickens works his discoveries into 
 practical life. Like Emerson, in his knowledge of the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 173 
 
 springs of our being, Dickens is a philosopher, but 
 rather of the heart than of the intellect. Emerson 
 will unlock the abyss and unveil to us the foundations 
 of the universe, and even the spirit-world beyond. Dic- 
 kens will take us to these beings, and make us know 
 and love them. Emerson would explain the temple ; 
 Dickens would present to you the worshipers, maid and 
 and mother, child and patriarch, the poor widow with 
 her mite, and the haughty Pharisee. Emerson's pen 
 records discoveries in the world of thoughts ; Dickens' 
 pen records experiences in the world of hearts. 
 
 I have heard of the death of Fanny Osgood w^ith 
 much and deep sorrow. She w^as a bright spirit, with 
 a noble nature and^ taste cultivated in the highest de- 
 gree. I once met her, and the remembrance of that 
 interview, short as it was, wall ever be fresh ; my only 
 regret was the feeling that I had not known her inti- 
 mately. If she had lived, for she has fled the earth 
 young, she would have done great deeds with her pen. 
 But God be thanked, there is a world of reunion, where 
 death will no more intrude his severing scythe, where 
 the poet's immortal mind shall have scope measurable 
 with its immortality. 
 
 Kate. 
 
174 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 After the literary letter whicli I sent you last 
 month, you will no doubt feel particularly grateful to 
 my learning, if it will dispense with such lofty writing 
 in future, and give you something more in the descrip- 
 tive and gossip way. It isn't every day I get my head 
 crammed with ''book," but when I do, it must be emp- 
 tied ; for, as you have before been informed by me, my 
 head is a very little one, and won't hold a whole library. 
 Having relieved its fulness in my last, I now begin per- 
 fectly in vacuo (this Latin my brother taught me) to 
 write you, solemnly averring to you that I havn't read 
 a book through for a month. This epistle will, there- 
 fore, be about what 1 have seen, and of that of which I 
 have been '•' a part." 
 
 Last week it was resolved, after several days of doubt- 
 in o- and of deliberation, that we would all go and spend 
 a couple of weeks at Beaver Dam Springs, in this state, 
 not that Ave were any of us invalids, but as all our neigh 
 bors had gone packing either to the North or some of 
 the watering-places, we had to imitate them, in self-de- 
 fence, to get rid of the loneliness of the neighborhood. 
 One morning, for instance, we would take a gallop over 
 to Kenton Hall, only to be told that " Massa, and Missus, 
 and all de young people had gone to de Nort'." Or, in 
 the evening we would canter to Bell Park, to find every 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 175 
 
 soul away, and the noble balls in cbarge of an African 
 housekeeper. In a word, the country was deserted, and 
 as one might as well be out of the world as out of the 
 fashion thereof, the order w^as at length given for our 
 departure also. 
 
 It seemed to me a great pity to quit the elegant man- 
 sion, and beautiful grounds, and sweet retirement of 
 Overton Park, for unknown inconveniences at some un- 
 comfortable and crowded watering-place, but as Isabel 
 insisted that there would be a great many fine beaux 
 there, and dancing, and all that, I was reconciled to the 
 change ; for, though I don't care much about beaux till 
 they have got a little gray, and therefore a little wisdom 
 withal, and seldom dance except with the colonel, or the 
 tiger captain, at a parlor reunion, yet I knew she would 
 be very happy there, and so I turned my sighs into 
 smiles for her sake, and went cheerfully to work packing. 
 
 ^1'- vdid you ever pack a trunk ? If you have not, 
 
 and resolutely intend never to pack one, you are an en- 
 viable gentleman. The great art, especially in fixing 
 away for the springs, is to cram the contents of four 
 large trunks and a wardrobe into one small trunk ; at 
 least, this was the system Isabel and I went to work 
 upon, for the colonel said, very positively, that we must 
 have all baggage put into two trunks, for the traveling 
 carriages wouldn't carry any more. More than once in 
 our stowing processes I wished for the aid of the cotton- 
 press, and believed, at last, we should have to send the 
 trunk to the gin, to be placed underneath the cotton- 
 bale screw, in order to consolidate the contents. But, 
 as this would utterly have demolished cologne and rose- 
 water bottles; ruined silks and lawns, and generally and 
 
176 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 miscellaneously annihilated every thing, we called in 
 two stout African dames from the laundry, and, making 
 them stand together upon the top, we caused two negro 
 hoys to draw the straps, one at each strap, and another 
 to watch the opportunity, when the women on top sprung 
 up in order to make the cover go down, to turn the key 
 in the lock. But the eflforts of the latter were entirely 
 unsuccessful, and with the trunk only strapped and buc- 
 kled by the extreme ends, we pronounced that it would 
 do, no rogue would know the diiference. The next 
 question was, what should we do with our hats? The 
 colonel had forbidden bandboxes, and yet we must carry 
 our bonnets in some way. It was in vain the colonel 
 assured us we should have no need of bonnets at the 
 springs. We did not know what might happen, and de- 
 termined to take them. The bandbox finally was safely 
 smuggled under the feet of Phillip, the driver, the ham- 
 mer-cloth scarcely covering it. This important matter 
 being arranged, we took an early breakfast, and set forth 
 on our journey, which was to occupy us two days. 
 
 ' You should have seen our cavalcade, Mr. . Let 
 
 me describe it to you. First and foremost rode Charles, 
 the colonel's intelligent and well-dressed serving-man, 
 well mounted on a serviceable traveling horse, and lead- 
 ing by the bridle his master's noble battle-steed, which 
 he still keeps as his favorite riding-horse. The horse is 
 a large, finely-formed animal, and with his gorgeous 
 Spanish saddle half covered with silver, and his plated 
 bridle, half of which was massive silver-chain, he moved 
 on his way, tossing his head, and stepping ofi" as if he 
 " smelled the battle afar off." Next came our family 
 coach, a large, Philadelphia-built carriage, as roomy as 
 
THE SOUTITER^'EIl AT HOME. 177 
 
 one could wish, with drab linings, luxuriiintlj soft, broad, 
 comfortable seats, that one could almost use as sofas. 
 There were a dozen pockets in the sides, the two larger 
 ones crammed for the occasion with books, magazines, 
 and newspapers, t<^ read on the way, when we should 
 tire of each other, for the most social folks, with the 
 most praiseworthy loquacity, can't always talk while 
 traveling. One of the others was charged with cakes, 
 and another thoughtfully teemed with peaches and ap- 
 ples, the foresight of the careful housekeeper, who had 
 traveled with her mistress in her younger days, and 
 knew how to make "white folk comfortable." A fifth, 
 w^hicli was long and narrow, was neatly packed with 
 cigars, to be conveniently in reach of the colonel, the 
 only smoker in our party ; this care for making " white 
 folks comfortable" being referable to the attention of 
 Charles, who was au fait in ail things appertaining to 
 his master's habits. A sixth pocket, in the front, con- 
 tains a box of lucifer matches, to light the cigars with ; 
 and from a seventh projected the brass top of a small 
 spy-glass, with which to view distant prospects as we 
 rode through the country. In each corner swung a bril- 
 liant feather fan, ready for our use, and in a rack over 
 Isabel's head was a silver cup with which to drink from 
 the springs or running brooks. There was an additional 
 contrivance to the carriage I have never seen in any 
 other ; this was an arrangement by which the lower half 
 of the front could be let down under the hammer-cloth, 
 and so make room for an extension of the feet of an in- 
 valid to recline at length ; a luxury that the indolence 
 of voluptuousness, rather than the comforts of indisposi- 
 tion, originated. Behind our carriage rode a little mu- 
 12 
 
178 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 latto of fourteen, who is taken along as a pupil to initiate 
 him into the mysteries of his future duties, as bodv-ser- 
 vant to the colonel when Charles grows gray : he is an 
 intelligent lad, and has a thirst for books that it is my 
 delight to gratify, and it is amusing' to w^itness the ex- 
 pansion of his large, handsome eyes at every new idea 
 his little books give him. He thinks there is no one 
 like Missy Kate, and says to me frequently : " When 
 you get marry, Missy Kate, me w^ait on you' husband — 
 me love b'long to you, Missy." 
 
 Beyond being in the possession — the property of some- 
 hody — the born slave has no idea. Like the beautiful 
 daughters of Circassia, who look forward to a harem as 
 the crowning honor of their sex, and the completion of 
 their happiness, the Afric youths in slavery, of both 
 sexes, contemplate only, as a second or rather their first 
 nature, the condition of servitude: so strong are habits 
 and the influence of education. The little fellow is in 
 raptures with his journey and at every thing he sees, put- 
 ting his smiling orange-tawny face round the corner of 
 the coach to speak to me in the window, to point out to me 
 something strange to his optics, but familiar enough to ours. 
 
 In the rear of the carriage, at a sufficient distance to 
 avoid our dust, and not to lend us theirs, rode on ambling 
 nags two female slaves, one of them Isabel's maid, who 
 attends her every where, and Edith, who has been in- 
 stalled from the first, as my factotum. It was useless 
 for me to say that I did not wish to take her along, that 
 I could do without her. Go she must, first because I 
 should need her ; secondly she wanted to go and have the 
 pleasure of the trip; and thirdly, Jane, Isabel's maid, 
 iiould be lonesome without her companion to gossip with; 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 179 
 
 and servants are better contented when tliey are together. 
 So I had my maid. They Avere both dressed in well-jfit- 
 ting pongee riding-dresses, were mounted on side-saddles ; 
 and at the horns thereof hung the neatly tied bundles that 
 contained their respective wardrobes. They paced along 
 side by side after us, as merry as two young black crows 
 in a corn field, and made the air ring with their mirthful 
 and not unmusical laughter; for musical ever are the 
 voices of the dark daughters of Afric ; and I am not sur- 
 prised to hear that there is a prima donna of this race 
 in Paris, filling it with wonder at the richness of her 
 notes. 
 
 I can name half a score of negresses, on the estate of 
 the Park, whose voices are charming, and, with cultiva- 
 tion, would surprise and enchant the cultivated listener. 
 / In the rear of these two "ladies," who only cease 
 their talk with each other, to switch up their nags, comes 
 the coachman's boy, a fat-faced, oily, saucy-lipped son 
 of Ham, black and brilliant as a newly japanned boot. 
 He is the coachman's page, and boy of all work about 
 the stable and horses ; and rubber-down and harnesser-up j 
 the polisher of the stable plate and the waterer of the 
 horses; for your true "gentleman's coachman," is a gen- 
 tleman in his way, and there are the "meaner things" 
 of his profession, which he leaves to the "low ambition" 
 of such coarser colored clay as Dick. In a word, the 
 theory of division of labor is completely carried out into 
 practical working system on a southern estate with its 
 hundred slaves. The carriage-driver must not only have 
 his deputy ostler, but the laundress must be waited on 
 by a little negress, to kindle her fires, heat her irons, 
 and do every thing that the dignity of the "lady" in 
 
180 THE SUNNY south; or. 
 
 question deems it " derogatoriim" for her to put licr 
 hands to. The chief washer-woman has from two to four 
 ebony maids, who do the grosser work while she does 
 the "fancy washing." The cook must have a strapping 
 negress, with eyes like anthracite, to peel and pick; a 
 strapping lad, with feet like two copies of Mitchell's 
 School Atlas for breadth, to chop the wood, bring water, 
 and be at hand whenever he is wanted ; and two or three 
 small fry to catch the poultry, turn the spit, and steal 
 all they can. The gardener has his aids; the ''marm- 
 nurse" hers to tote the children; the housekeeper hers; 
 and all this army of juveniles are thus in full training to 
 take the places, by-and-by, of those to whom they are 
 appended. 
 
 Thus every negro child is brought up (educated shall 
 I say?) to one thing, and comxCS to understand that par- 
 ticular branch perfectly by the time it gets to be a man 
 or a woman, hence the admirable, the perfect servants, 
 one always finds on a well-regulated plantation. Out 
 of their particular province they know nothing — abso- 
 lutely nothing ; and no judicious master ever thinks of 
 exacting of them, duties out of their regular work. 
 Dick, the ostler's boy, doesn't know horse-radish from a 
 pumpkin-vine; and Bob, the gardener's boy, could solve 
 a problem in Euclid as easily as he could place the 
 harness on the carriage horses. The cook never enters 
 the house, and the nurse is never seen in the kitchen ; 
 the wash-woman is never put to ironing, nor the woman 
 who has charge of the ironing-room ever put to washing. 
 Each one rules supreme in her wash-house, her ironing- 
 room, her kitchen, her nursery, her housekeeper's room ; 
 and thus, none interfering with the duties of the other, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 181 
 
 a complete system of domesticdom is established to the 
 amazing comfort and luxury of all who enjoy its advan- 
 tages. 
 
 This, however, is a digression ; but, as I am not 
 writing by the rule, whatever ramblings my pen takes 
 should be regarded as a regular part of my letter, as a 
 deviation contemplated in the beginning. I will now re- 
 turn to Dick, or Dickon as he was called "for short," as 
 Charles saith. 
 
 Dick was mounted on the same low, black, shaggy, Mex- 
 ican pony I have before described, his feet dangling as if 
 they were two weights to balance him, and encased with a 
 pair of brogans, the bottoms of ivhich were still of that fresh 
 polished leather-brown, which showed they had not yet 
 touched mother earth, but were span new. Indeed, I had 
 seen Dickon mount his Mexican bare-footed, and then cause 
 one of his black companions to put his shoes on for him, 
 in order that they might shine with newness, and as long 
 as possible delight the eyes, and kindle envy in the 
 bosoms of all "darkies" whom he might encounter on 
 the road. In this vanity, Dickon was not peculiar, for 
 the whole race are more pleased with a pair of new boots 
 or shoes than any other portion of apparel. I have seen 
 both men and women, in going to meeting with new Christ- 
 mas-gift shoes, walk half the distance on the Virginia 
 fence, in order that they might reach the "meetin' hus" 
 with the bottoms of their brogans "spick and span." 
 White "gemmen," I believe, think most of a new hat, 
 if one might judge from the habit of "betting a hat, and 
 the gentle pleasure they seem to enjoy in smoothing its 
 glossy coat down with their palm or a kid glove, and 
 the jealousy with which they protect it, when it is new, 
 
182 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 from all soiling. The new coat may sit down in a dusty 
 chair without much compunctious visitings to the trem- 
 bling conscience of the wearer ; but did any lady ever see 
 a gentleman deposit his hat upon a table barely susceptible 
 
 of dust ? BetAveen us, Mr. , fear of such contact with 
 
 its immaculate ebon causes gentlemen to keep their hats 
 in hand in parlor visitations, protesting, with a hypocriti- 
 cal smile, if you try to deprive them of it, that it is really 
 the fashion ! Bless me! If the fashion should change, 
 what would be the substitute ? Tliere can be none ; for I 
 have seen fine beaux use their castors as if they were pet 
 kittens, stroking down and stroking down the soft fur 
 with affectionate endearment, as if it Avere a baby, tap- 
 ping and smoothing its glossy crown, as if it were a fan, 
 with which to cool their be-whiskered faces, or a pocket 
 handkerchief, to hide a temporarily missing tooth, or 
 w^ine-tainted (more's the pity) exhalations of breath, 
 or an escritoire to pencil a letter upon, and as a mail-bag, 
 to put one in ! — as a weapon of war to drive a wasp or 
 a bat out of the room, as an individual fire-screen, and 
 for illustrating any ideas in conversation : as, for instance, 
 I have seen a hat called (only for the sake of illustration, 
 
 Mr. ,) a steam boiler, a new^ novel, a church, the 
 
 Mexican general Santa Anna ; while the coal-scuttle stood 
 for General Taylor, Mount Vesuvius, the tomb of Ma- 
 homet, a patent coffee-mill, a newly invented horse-shoe, 
 and a negro's head. It has enabled many a difiident 
 gentleman to retain his self-possession, and give a use 
 for his hands for a whole evening, Avho, otherwise, would 
 have suffered excruciatingly from the embarrassment of 
 beinc^ alone with himself. You mio;ht as well ask some 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 183 
 
 nervous gentlemen if you should take their boots, as to 
 ask them if you should " take their hats." 
 
 It occurs to me, Mr. , that only one thing is wanted 
 
 to perfect the drawing-room hat. This idea has been 
 suggested to my mind more than once, when I have seen 
 gentlemen, during a pause in the conversation, gaze ab- 
 stractedly down into the recesses of their castors, as if 
 they Avere trying to discover stars at noon-day in a well. 
 The idea is this : That in the next issue of fashionable 
 hats by your tonish artistes^ Oakford of Chestnut street, 
 or Genin of Broadway, there should be elegantly inserted 
 within the crown, Avhere the maker's name usually is 
 found, a small mirror, encircled by the manufacturer's 
 name.* Ladies have them in their fans, and the hat is 
 the gentleman's fan. Such an arrangement would meet 
 with favor, I have no doubt. The gentlemen at a loss 
 for ideas could catch inspiration from the depth of their 
 castors ; for what will inspire a person with such a flow 
 of agreeable ideas as the contemplation of himself ? 
 
 The introduction of this hat would be productive of 
 the highest social benefits, and impart a charm and 
 vivacity to drawing-room conversations that cannot now 
 be properly estimated. Dear me ! Let us go back to 
 Dickon, whom I have fairly taken for my text ; for 
 what I understand by a text, is some point which gives 
 the preacher a starting vantage, like the starting pole to 
 the foot-racer, who, once leaving it at his back, never 
 expects to behold it more. 
 
 But we won't lose sight of Dickon, nor of his brogans. 
 When we came near any dwelling, to the front of which 
 any of his sooty brethren might be drawn to gaze on us, 
 * This has since (1853) been done. 
 
184 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 he would throw out his legs horizontally, in order to 
 display the full glory and splendor of his pegged shoes, 
 the soles of which were three-quarters of an inch in 
 thickness, and the leather of which they were made, as 
 thick as the hide of a rhinoceros ; yet they filled his 
 dark soul with delight, and he rejoiced in them as if they 
 had been as beautiful as the slippers of Cinderella. 
 
 He led by the bridle Isabel's riding horse, the hand- 
 some creature I have before described, fully caparisoned, 
 and my beautiful mule, accoutred with Mexican magni- 
 ficence. These accompany us in order that, when we 
 are tired of the carriage, we can ride, and also for our 
 convenience while at the Springs. My mule is a perfect 
 beauty ! He is none of the Sancho Panza donkey race, 
 blit as symmetrical as a deer, with an ankle like a hind 
 of the forest, or like a fine lady's ; with hide as glossy as 
 that of a mouse, ears not too large, and well cut; a 
 pretty head, a soft and affectionate eye, with a little 
 mischief in it, (observable only when Isabel would try to 
 pass him,) and as swift as an antelope, and thirteen and 
 a half hands high. It comes at my voice, and does not 
 like for any one but me to be in the saddle. The value 
 
 of this mule, Mr. , is three hundred dollars. You 
 
 have no idea of the beauty and cost of these useful crea- 
 tures in this country, and how universally they are used. 
 Out of nine private carriages at the Church last Sab- 
 bath, four of them were drawn by beautiful spans of 
 mules. Even our own traveling carriage, which I have 
 described to you, is drawn by a pair of large mules, six- 
 teen hands, and which the colonel has been offered one 
 thousand dollars for. It is only the rich that can afford 
 the luxury of the use of these elegant animals. So 
 
 I 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 185 
 
 don't smile at my saddled mule, wliicli I have named 
 "Jenny Lind." 
 
 Having now introdued you to our traveling party, 
 
 Mr. , I will in my next give you some account of 
 
 what events took place on our journey. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 P. S. Many thanks to the kind editorial people who 
 have been pleased to treat my faults as a writer so leni- 
 ently, and to encourage me with such words of approba- 
 tion. I will do my best to merit their esteem. 
 
18<3 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 Mr — : 
 
 My Dear Sir, — -It is all up now ! Everybody knows 
 i\ I The secret is out, and I am distressed beyond mea- 
 sxa'vy. I wouldn't for the world it should have been 
 kv^own I write these letters ; and I have done my best 
 tliat it shouldn't be suspected ; and if it had not been for 
 certain over-wise busy bodies, the colonel and Isabel 
 would have been none the wiser ; for they never see your 
 paper — I have taken nice care of that. I will tell you 
 how it was, Mr. . You must know that on the even- 
 ing of the day we left the Park for the Springs, we 
 reached the village of Columbia, where there is a cele- 
 brated Institute for Young Ladies, romantically situated 
 near the town. Isabel had a friend or two there, and 
 proposed to call and pay them a visit. The colonel said 
 he would accompany us; and off we set on foot through 
 the principal street. On the way we passed a one story 
 white cottage house, with a little shaded green yard in 
 front. This, the colonel told us, was the residence of 
 Mr. Polk, when he w^as called to occupy the White 
 House. It is wholly unpretending, and might rent for 
 one hundred and fifty dollars per annum. In coming to 
 Colmnbia, six miles out, we had passed a small country 
 dwelling, of the humblest aspect, which we were told was 
 his birth-place. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 187 
 
 After looking a moment at the plain dwelliiio; on the 
 street, and reflecting from what various positions of so- 
 ciety our Presidents spring, the abode of Madam, the 
 venerable mother of the late President Polk, was shown 
 to me — a two story brick house, without ornament or 
 grounds, and approached only by an uncomfortable look- 
 ing side-walk. She is greatly beloved, and is said to be 
 both an intelligent and Avitty old lady. Near her resides 
 Mrs. Dr. Hays, a sister of the late President, and said 
 strikingly to resemble him in talents and appearance. 
 
 At length we came in sight of the Gothic turrets and 
 Norman towers of the battlemented structure towards 
 which we were directing our steps. It is truly a noble 
 edifice, commandingly situated, and complete in all its 
 appointments to the eye. Its color is a grayish blue. 
 It is approached through imposing gate-ways, by wind- 
 ing avenues that bring the visitor soon upon a green 
 plateau. The entrance is spacious, and hung with pic- 
 tures. AVe were ushered by a well-dressed female slave 
 into a parlor on the left, handsomely furnished, but not 
 a single book to be seen in it. Thii^ showed that the 
 proprietors regarded books as tools in that place, and 
 kept them for the sJiop — that is the study-room. The 
 colonel sent up our names to the Rector ; for the Institu- 
 tion, w^hich numbers three hundred pupils, is Episcopa- 
 lian, and is under the charge of a clergyman of the 
 Church. 
 
 A gentleman shortly made his appearance, dressed 
 with the nicest care and attention to his personal appear- 
 ance. He was rather a handsome man, inclined to gen- 
 teel corpulency, wore gold rimmed glasses, nankeen 
 trousers, white vest, and full whiskers accurately trimmed 
 
188 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 to a hair. He was the heau ideal of preceptor-in-chicf 
 of a large and fashionable boarding-school of young 
 misses. He was the most polite man I ever saw. Lord 
 Chesterfield would have embraced hira with demonstra- 
 tions of enthusiasm. Yet, with all this formality of 
 courteousness, which the head of a ladies' school must 
 of necessity get into the habit of exercising towards all, 
 his face bore the impress of a scholarly mind. I always 
 note with great particularity the peculiarities of those 
 who educate youth, for so much depends upon example, 
 and is learned by involuntary imitation. The young 
 ladies, whom Isabel had sent for, soon made their ap- 
 pearance, both dressed plainly in white, and I observed 
 that they both eyed me askance and curiously in a pecu- 
 liar way, and then both whispered to Isabel, and then 
 looked mysteriously again at me harder than before. 
 
 At length, we rose to accompany the courteous Rector 
 over the vast establishment which calls him lord. I was 
 amazed at its extent, at the number of its rooms, at the 
 profusion of its pictures and maps, hanging from all the 
 walls, at the cr#^vd of girls, so many of them, and so 
 full of the promise of future loveliness, and the perfect or- 
 der and system which prevailed throughout. But if these 
 gratified me, I did not a little marvel at finding myself 
 waylaid and watched by knots of juvenile belles, with 
 rosy lips buzzing, and their handsome eyes flashing and 
 staring at me as if I was a "show" of some kind, while 
 Isabel and the colonel were scarcely noticed. " What 
 can have happened to me?" I asked myself, and ima- 
 gined I had in some way disfigured my face, and so made 
 a fright and sight of myself; but happening to pass a 
 mirror, and finding my "beauty" unimpaired, and my 
 
THE SOUTIIERNEU AT HOME. 189 
 
 appearance as it should be, I was excessively annoyed 
 and curious to know wli}^ I was stared at and whispered 
 about so. It was not done rudely, however, but civilly, 
 and with a sort of pleased reverence. 
 
 I did not discover the secret of it all until we had re- 
 turned to the inn, when a gentleman, who is a poet, but 
 I believe has never published any thing, called and sent 
 in his card for me, his name written gracefully in a scroll 
 held in the bill of a dove, all done with shining black 
 lead. 
 
 When he was admitted, he approached me with a dozen 
 bows, and said he was happy to have the honor of wel- 
 coming me to Columbia. He had just heard from some 
 young ladies of the Academy that I had honored it with 
 a visit, and he begged to assure me that I was appre- 
 ciated, in the most distinguished manner, by all intellec- 
 tual persons who had had the pleasure of reading my Let- 
 ters from Overton Park, published in the Model Courier. 
 
 " I trust I have also the honor," here the young gen- 
 tleman turned and bowed low to the amazed colonel, ^' of 
 seeing the celebrated colonel whom your pen has immor- 
 talized, and this" — and here he made two very low bows 
 to the puzzled Isabella — "is, without doubt, the bold 
 and beautiful Miss Peyton, w^hom I have learned to ad- 
 mire, though I have never before had the happiness of 
 paying my respects to her." 
 
 Mr. ! can you appreciate, have you nerves and 
 
 sensibility enough to appreciate my position at that aw- 
 ful moment ? I felt that the crisis had arrived ! I did 
 not open my lips, but pale and motionless I sat and 
 looked him into annihilation, and then I moved my eyes 
 towards the colonel and Isabel, in a sort of helpless 
 
190 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 despair, to sec the effect of this contretemps upon their 
 unsuspecting minds. 
 
 ''What is this, Kate, eh? What is it the gentleman 
 would say?" he asked, in an amusingly bewildered way. 
 
 " I can explain, dear father ! Don't look so like the 
 white lady in wax, dear Kate !" added Isabel, smiling. 
 " I heard something of it at the school, and the girls 
 all wondered I had never heard of it before, especially 
 as I was spoken of in the Letters." 
 
 "What letters, Bel?" asked her father. "You mys- 
 tify me ! I heard something once, I now recollect, but 
 it passed from my mind." 
 
 " Why, sir, the truth is, there is a spy in the camp, 
 dear father," answered Bel, with an arch smile, and 
 glancing aside at me, " and this gentleman has been so 
 good as to let the poor kitten loose in sight of everybody. 
 Kate has been writing letters to a paper in Philadelphia, 
 which have been printed, at least, so I was told at the 
 Academy, a score of them, and every one of them dated 
 at Overton Park, and descriptive of every thing that she 
 saw or experienced there that she thought would be inte- 
 resting ; and in these letters she has been so naughty as 
 to speak of both of uS, at least so I was told, for I have 
 not seen one of the letters, but I am dying to do so." 
 
 "Nor I," said the colonel. "So! so! Then we have 
 a literatteuriste in our family, 'takin' notes an' printin' 
 *em' too, i' faith! You sly rogue, Kate," he added, 
 turning to me, "you have got the advantage of me. So 
 you have been making us all sit for our portraits, poor 
 innocents !" 
 
 "But she has not written one word, she would be 
 afraid to have us read, that I know," said Isabel. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 191 
 
 "That I'll vouch for, Kate! so don't look so Wank!" 
 ^'That she hasn't, sir," officiously exclaimed the 
 wretched poet, as if he were eager to atone for his faux 
 pas. ''Dear me! I didn't know but — but — every body 
 knew — or — ! But sir! but. Miss ! you may rest assured 
 that not a word is written, that. 
 
 M •'^^'""^j 
 
 ' Dying, she would wish to blot/ 
 
 She has alluded to you in every instance in the most 
 princely, and affectionate, and respectful — " 
 
 "My very good sir," interrupted the colonel, "the 
 lady needs no apologist. We know well she has not. 
 Now, Kate, if I had these Letters, I would, as a punish- 
 ment to you, make you read every one of them aloud to 
 us when Ave get back to the Park." 
 
 "It would be a punishment," I said, smiling and 
 taking heart again, at the kind and affectionate manner 
 in which the discovery had been received by my two 
 dear friends. "But if it will be received in full atone- 
 ment — " 
 
 "Full — complete," answered the colonel. 
 
 "I have most all the Letters, sir; seventeen in number, 
 sir, up to the last week," eagerly remarked the poet; 
 "they are at your service, sir !" 
 
 "And so, sir," said I, half angrily, "you would com- 
 plete the mischief you have involuntarily done by a 
 voluntary proposition to contribute to my punishment." 
 
 "Ten thousand pardons. Miss Kate — I beg pardon, 
 Miss Conyngham — I will Avithhold the Letters, then." 
 
 "Nay, since you have them," said I, "and are willing 
 to part with them for a time, (they shall be returned to 
 your address again,) I will accept the offer; for, Colonel, 
 
192 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 I wish you to see all that I have written, and the sooner 
 my mind will be relieved." 
 
 "I am full of curiosity to read them," said Isabel 
 eagerly. 
 
 Thereupon the blabbing poet departed to bring them, 
 when the colonel and Isabel, feeling for my chagrin, 
 succeeded in reconciling me to myself; and when the 
 miserable youth came back Avith the bale of Couriers un- 
 der his arm, I was in a mood to receive them with a 
 merry laugh, though still a tear or two of vexation 
 trembled in my eyes, that the discovery had been made, 
 and I heartily wished I had never written a line. But, 
 who ever dreamed of my Letters being read here, out 
 West^ or being thought of a week after they were written ? 
 You know, sir, how insensibly they were drawn out from 
 paper to paper, and increased to their present number, 
 almost without my knowledge. 
 
 "If I had reflected," as I now said to the colonel and 
 Isabel, "that what is published in an Eastern paper is 
 read as well in the West as if it had been printed there, 
 for newspapers circulate everywhere, I should not have 
 written, or written less freely in my use of names and 
 places. I did not then understand that communications 
 sent out from Tennessee, to a widely circulating paper 
 in Philadelphia, will as certainly come back to Tennessee, 
 and be read by all the next door neighbors of the writer, 
 as certainly as if they had been printed in his own town. 
 I did not understand, as I now do, that newspapers are 
 without geographical limits and boundaries, but that their 
 voices, like those of the stars, ^ go into all lands, and their 
 words to the end of the world!' that to them belong 
 neither climates nor latitudes; that the same journal 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 193 
 
 which is read around the elegant fireside of glowing an- 
 thracite in Walnut street, is also read, word for word 
 and column for column, before the light of the log fire 
 in the woodman's hut on the Mississippi." 
 
 I have decided to continue to write my Letters, Mr. , 
 
 for the colonel and Isabel have read all which I have 
 written, (this being the third day since the discovery,) and 
 find nothing that I should not have set down, save names, 
 and, as they say, giving them both better characters than 
 they deserve. I shall therefore resume my "journey" 
 and give you an account of a delightful day passed at 
 Ashwood, en route to the watering place, seven miles west 
 of Columbia. 
 
 The unlucky poet felt so badly at the scrape he had 
 unwittingly got me into, that in the morning, when we 
 left the inn, he came to the carriage, and bidding me 
 good bye, begged me to pardon him, a request which I 
 very cheerfully complied with. The last I saw of him, 
 as the carriage turned the corner, was standing fixed to 
 the spot where I had charitably shaken hands with him, 
 his hat raised, and his body bowing, with his left hand 
 frantically placed on his heart. 
 
 Mr. , if you receive a piece of poetry from these 
 
 parts, addressed to me^ " On meeting me" in Columbia, 
 I implore you not to insert it, for I saw the mad phrensy 
 of such an act in his eyes as I parted with him, and he 
 will be sure to perpetrate the deed there fore-shadowed. 
 
 Respectfully, yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 13 
 
194 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 This letter, my Dear Sir, is addressed to you from 
 tlie loveliest region of this state, and from the "Garden 
 of Eden" of this loveliest region. Maury county, (pro- 
 nounced here Murry,) you must know, is the gem of 
 Tennessee. It contains the most beautiful hills, the 
 clearest brooks, the prettiest vales, the stateliest trees, 
 the handsomest native parks, the richest farms, the 
 wealthiest planters, the most intelligent population, the 
 best seminaries of learning, and the loveliest ladies of all 
 Tennessee ; at least the good people of Maury say so, 
 and who should know so well as they, pray ? They also 
 boast of having given a President to the United States, 
 and its greatest astronomer to it — Lieutenant Maury, 
 of the Observatory at Washington. So far as my ex- 
 perience goes, I am ready to endorse all the good folks 
 say; for Ashwood, which is the setting in the ring of 
 Maury, and where I now am, is enough in itself to give 
 grace to a much more inferior country. I will describe 
 Ashwood to you. 
 
 Eancy yourself, Mr. , (where you may be in per- 
 son whenever you take it into your ambulatory brain to 
 ramble this way,) seated in our roomy and luxurious 
 carriage, by my side, if you are not too stout, and don't 
 fill up too large a space, for, of all things, I love to ride 
 comfortably; or by Isabel's side, — but then she is 30 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 195 
 
 handsome, I dare say you would rather sit opposite to 
 her, where you could watch the intelligent play of her 
 beautiful features ; or, perhaps, better still, imagine your- 
 self on horseback, riding by our window, with no object 
 to obstruct your view of the country ; this will be best, 
 after all — especially as you are supposed to be traveling- 
 to see and print the country ; for I conceive that every- 
 thing is viewed by an editor — typically — not as it really 
 is, but how it will look in type — how many squares or 
 paragraphs it will make ! Fancy yourself thus d cheval, 
 and riding by our coach windows as we sally forth from 
 the village of Columbia, with its one broad, rocky, side- 
 walkless street. On your right you will not fail to notice 
 the former cottage abode of the late President Polk, and 
 on the left, the plain residence of Madame, his aged 
 mother, to both of which I have before drawn your at- 
 tention. 
 
 A few minutes farther will bring you opposite the 
 castellated edifice known far and near as the Columbia 
 Institute, where I had "the honors" paid me the day 
 before, and where is preserved a conservatory of loveli- 
 ness, each virgin flower awaiting her turn of annual 
 transplanting into the great wilderness of the world. 
 Ah, girls ! if you knew the storms and clouds, the sad- 
 nesses and sorrows, the cares and anguishes, the biting 
 frosts and chilling winds that wither the heart and blight 
 the spirit in the open world, you would hug your pre- 
 sent shelter, and long linger, — dreading and shrinking 
 to go forth, — within its protecting and safe embrace ! 
 
 This reflection is supposed to be made by yourself, 
 
 Mr. , in the philosophical m.ood which becomes an 
 
 editor en voyage to see the earth he lives upon. After 
 
196 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 losing sight of the Institute, you will come to tlie top of 
 the hill, and glance back to take a parting look of the 
 village of Columbia, which is nestled picturesquely amid 
 trees, w^ith a tower or two peering above them, on the 
 
 banks of the romantic Duck ! Yes, Mr. , the classic, 
 
 .and erudite, and scholastic Columbia is situated on the 
 ''Duck river." ''What is in a name?" you ask — 
 
 " Duck, or Doddle, or Dunkins, or Dumplins ; all very 
 good names in their way, if they mean good. A rose by 
 any other name would no doubt smell like a rose." 
 Suppose a rose were called "Quashee," would you name 
 
 your lovely daughter Quashee ? Ah, Mr. , can you 
 
 fancy your smiling babe looking as sweet with the name 
 of Quashee indelibly fixed upon her, as she now does ? 
 One of these days, we have no doubt that the refined 
 polish of the Columbians will lead them to see the affin- 
 ity between Duck and Quashee, and at least adorn their 
 rock-cliffed river with a more euphonious name. 
 
 After losing sight of the village, you will find yourself 
 pacing smoothly along a level and broad pike, not 
 roughened by even a pebble to disturb the even roll of 
 the carriage wheels. The fields on one side are green 
 and undulating — on the other is a fine wood. In a few 
 minutes a dark brown villa meets your eye, some distance 
 from the road, on the left hand, with a neat gate-way 
 opening into a well-kept carriage-way, that sweeps hand- 
 somely round a lawn up to its portico. The grounds 
 are ornamented, well kept, and neatly enclosed, and the 
 whole place has an air of scholarly seclusion, combined 
 with the most enviable domestic comfort. This is the 
 abode of the Right Rev. Bishop Otey, of the Tennessee 
 Diocese of the American Episcopal Church. This resi- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 197 
 
 dence is the seat of true clerical hospitality. Bishop 
 Otej is indeed the reverend father in God of all his 
 clergy, who look up to him Avith a filial love, combined 
 with a fraternal confidence, that speaks volumes for the 
 traits of character of a Bishop, who can command such 
 voluntary affection. Bishop Otey stands among the very 
 first Prelates of the Church, w^hich his piety and learn- 
 ing so eminently adorn. If you will turn your eyes in 
 that direction, you will discover him in a brown linen 
 coat, and home-made trowsers, and an old straw hat, 
 working amid his shrubbery. That bright-eyed young 
 girl, with a shade hat in her hand, and a cloud of sunny 
 hair, is his youngest daughter, the pride of her father's 
 heart, who has recently laid beneath the green earth two 
 still more beautiful ones. It i& only the hope of the 
 Christian that can strengthen and bind up the heart 
 broken by such heavy strokes as these. Calm and holy 
 confidence in a life beyond the stars, where the severed 
 here shall entwine in each other's embrace, holy lip to 
 holy lip, loving heart to loving heart, — can only lend en- 
 durance to separations in this. Without this sure and 
 steadfast hope, what a bottomless pit of crushed afi"ections 
 would the grave be ? 
 
 The road now divides a green and verdant landscape, 
 more woodland than field, but made up of both, with 
 here and there a tenement of some small proprietor. 
 You are pleased with the beauty of the trees, the height 
 and majesty of the silver-trunked sycamore, overshadow- 
 ing some rock-bound crystal spring, or by the graceful 
 bendings of a group of willows bordering a rivulet ; or 
 by the breadth of the broad-armed oak on the sunny hill- 
 side ; or by the feathering and stately elegance of the 
 
198 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Indian salex ; or the columnar altitude of the poplar, 
 marking the site of some hidden cottage. 
 
 I see you gaze with admiration into the sun-dappled 
 forests, whose broad patches of light and shade look like 
 scenes in Claude Lorraines's pictures, and remind you 
 of them. You wonder at the green sward beneath the 
 trees being so green and soft, as if it had been the work 
 of trained English gardeners ; when the extent of these 
 lawn like forests convinces you that they are as nature's 
 gardening left them. I see you stretch your neck to see 
 where the deer are. They seldom come near the road, 
 and in the vicinity of towns are rarely seen now. There 
 are few or no deer in this county of Maury, but those 
 that are tamed and kep^ for gentle adornment to the vi- 
 cinage of some villa. 
 
 Did you ever trot over a smoother road, sir ? For the 
 last three miles, not a stone the size of your watch seal 
 has been encountered by the polished wheel-tire. Does 
 not the stately span of mules move with a truly equinine 
 bravery and speed ? I see by your eye, as you are watch- 
 ing their pace, that you mean to have a pair for Broad 
 street, or whatever other avenue you Philadelphia gentle- 
 men make a fashionable driving thorouojhfare. The col- 
 oncl offers you a cigar out of the window. Don't refuse it, 
 Mr. . They were brought from Havana by the tiger- 
 captain, and are pronounced nonpareil. I love to see a 
 gentleman smoke who knows how to smoke ; but, bless 
 me ! when they do not know how, what filthy work they 
 make of it ! The awkward way they embrace the cigar 
 with the unskilled lips, as if it were an unusually large 
 stick of bitter barley candy — the jaundice-colored exuda- 
 tions of juice, which must be expectorated twice in every 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 199 
 
 minute — the — but enough : if these may not be written 
 about by pens polite, how can the spectacle be endured 
 as it is bj hundreds of polite eyes and polite nerves 
 daily ? 
 
 Oh ! ye monstrosities of smokers — ye caricaturists of 
 a cigarilian luxury — ye unsuccessful imitators of the 
 inimitable ! — chew tobacco at once, but don't — don't join 
 together in one operation what was ever intended to be 
 kept asunder. I see you smoke your cigar like a true 
 
 smoker, Mr. . You use it as familiarly as the jockev 
 
 his whip, or the fine lady her fan. You handle it as 
 delicately as if it were made of gossamer, yet puff it as 
 vigorously as if it were of the consistency of gutta percha. 
 You do not so much smohe as inspire and exhale azurely 
 — as if it were as natural to you as to breathe ordinarily. 
 You never remove it from your mouth, save to laugh, for 
 you converse with it as if it incommoded you no more 
 than your lips or teeth, and then you touch it delicately 
 and regard it affectionately. An admirably finished and 
 endurable smoker ! Such smoking is not unlawful, and 
 can never be indicted as nuisable. Colonel, please 
 
 hand Mr. another cigar. 
 
 Kate. 
 
20C THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 Mr. : 
 
 My Dear Sir, — There is probably no purgatory on 
 earth (for purgatories abound in this world) so effectually 
 conducive to penitence and repentance as a watering 
 place. If good cannot come out of evil, nor light out of 
 darkness, nor laughter out of sorrow, neither can any 
 thing interesting proceed from a watering place. Never- 
 theless, I have to fly to my pen for solace. I have read 
 till reading is insufferably tiresome — I have walked till 
 I could walk no longer — I have talked till I am tired 
 hearing my own voice and the voices of others — I have 
 jumped the rope till I have blistered the soles of my 
 feet, and made my hands burn — I have drunk the waters 
 until I shall never bear to hear water mentioned again — 
 I have danced under the trees, and looked on in the old 
 dancing-room, till dancing is worn out — I have yawned 
 till I have nearly put my jaws out — and I have sat till 
 I could hardly keep my eyes open, looking at the trees, 
 the hot walks, the listlessly-wandering-about people, that 
 look as if they could take laudanum, hang themselves, 
 or cut their throats, "just as lief do it as not," if it 
 were not so impolite and wicked to shock people's nerves 
 by perpetrating such dreadful things ! I have slept till 
 my eyes won't hold any more sleep, and are swelled and 
 red like two pink pin-cushions. I have rolled ninepins 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 201 
 
 till I have nearly broken my arm with the heavy balls ; 
 and it is too hot to sew, to knit, to net, to do any thing 
 but write ! This I can do when all other things fail. 
 I can write off a headache, w^rite away care, and bury 
 miserable thoughts in the dark depths of my inkstand. 
 
 Therefore, Mr. , I fly to my escritoire for relief 
 
 from the tedium which everywhere surrounds me. 
 
 It is just half-past twelve in the morning. Let me 
 describe to you what I see from the open window, before 
 which I write. Directly in front is a broad lawn, inter- 
 sected in every possible direction by foot-paths, some of 
 which lead to the dining room, others to the bowling 
 alley, others to cottages and cabins, others from these to 
 the springs. This lawn is now hotly waving in the un- 
 dulations of the heated atmosphere. The sides and roofs 
 of the cabins are also trembling with the quick waves 
 of rarified air, vibrating along their sun-heated superficies. 
 A solitary negress, in a blue frock, — for most of them 
 dress in blue check, — is slowly gliding along the path 
 from the spring, with a jar of water balanced upon her 
 head, for her mistress. She is singing in a low, musical, 
 unintelligible tone. She is the only moving object visible. 
 At the foot of the lawn runs, in a shadowy coolness, a 
 brawling brook, now flowing like a melting mirror over 
 a smooth, flat rock — now gurgling in a dozen mimic falls 
 of white foam — now rushing hoarsely between narrow 
 channels — and now whirling and hissing in eddying 
 circles about the roots of a tree that have temporarily 
 dammed its progress. 
 
 Beyond this romantic brook, the sight of which is 
 enough to cool a fever, ascends irregularly a green bank, 
 dotted with beech and birch trees, to the summit of a 
 
202 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 ridge, along whicli winds the road by wWcli we came to 
 the Springs. The whole scene before us is rustic, quiet, 
 and wild, and would have been pronounced a perfect 
 wood-scene by good old Izaak Walton ; for not even 
 trout are wanting. There sits an elderly lawyer, with 
 his back against an oak, a long rod in his hand, the hook 
 at the extremity of which has been baitless for the last 
 hour, while the angler sleeps with his mouth wide open ; 
 and I fancy I hear his sonorous snore mingling not un- 
 harmoniously with the guttural noise of the brook. Not 
 many paces from him is stretched, in ponderous length, 
 a hu2:e brown horse, his head a little cast to one side, as 
 if he were eagerly listening ; but it is all a deception ; a 
 little closer scrutiny will show you that his large eyes 
 are both shut, and that he is also as sound asleep as 
 the old lawyer, only he doesn't hold his mouth open. 
 Brutes always sleep, I have observed, with dignity. An 
 eastern sage has said that men and beasts are on a level 
 when they sleep ! There is, doubtless, something deep 
 lying under this observation, if we could think it out ; 
 but it would take other heads to do that ! The bowling 
 alley is in full sight. Its thunder is silent — its thunder- 
 bolts repose. The negro boy who sets up is now lying 
 down upon the broad of his back, in the sun, and seems 
 to be enjoying sleep as only an African can. On the 
 benches are stretched gentlemen in various picturesque 
 attitudes, some sleeping, others smoking, and idly con- 
 versing. The air is so still, the buzzing of the flies is 
 heard in the sunny air, like the distant murmur of a 
 busy spinning-wheel. The mosquitoes are the only things 
 that seem to be taking time by the fore-lock. There, 
 under an opposite gallery, reclines a fat gentleman in an 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 208 
 
 arm-cliair, and doing liis best to get to sleep, in order to 
 forget that he is at these horrid Springs. Now he slaps 
 at a mosquito with his right hand, then he hits at another 
 with his left, his eyes both shut all the while ; now he 
 brings his fleshy palm down upon his forehead, with a 
 slap loud enough to wake the ancient lawyer with the 
 fishing-rod; and now he grumbles out a half-choked 
 oath, and throws his great red silk-handkerchief over his 
 face. But I see they bite through this, for he kicks out 
 his short legs in a kind of frenzy of desperation. I can 
 see the Etna-like tip of his nose pointing upwards under- 
 neath the handkerchief, a fair mark for a sharp pro- 
 boscis. A shrewd mosquito has found the place vulne- 
 rable, and the victim, seizing the end of his nose, wrings 
 it as if he were wringing off the head of a chicken ; at 
 the same time being bitten on the knee, the fat gentle- 
 man roars and kicks fiercely out, and the chair, which 
 was never manufactured for such trials of strength as 
 this, refuses longer to sustain him in his freaks, and dis- 
 solves into its primitive parts, every round and leg unglu- 
 ing and separating from its bed, and letting him down 
 bodily amid the wreck like a huge globe fallen from its 
 sphere. What a change ! Presto, how the Springs are 
 alive ! The crash, heard all around, starts fifty sleepers, 
 one hundred and fifty idlers, two hundred dozers, black 
 and white, and all run to the scene of disaster, to see 
 what has happened ; for, at the Springs, an incident is 
 
 worth five hundred dollars, Mr. , if it is worth a 
 
 dime. The fat gentleman finds himself the cynosure of 
 all eyes, and the butt of all possible inquiries of— 
 
 "What is it? How did it happen? Who's hurt or killed? 
 Bless me, my dear sir, arc any of your bones broken?" 
 
204 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 The latter inquiry could never have been satisfactorily 
 responded to by the fat gentleman, as, without doubt, he 
 had lost sight of his bones many years before, under- 
 neath the masses of superincumbent flesh which lay larded 
 eight fingers deep thereupon. 
 
 There is no describing the effect this little incident has 
 produced upon the whole circle of animated life. The 
 bowlers, once aroused, are playing at mimic thunder 
 again — the ancient barrister has shut his huge mouth, 
 opened his eyes, put on his spectacles, and resumed his 
 occupation of fishing for subaqueous clients. The old 
 brown horse has thrust out his two fore-legs on the grass, 
 and pulled himself heavily up from his haunches to his 
 hoofs, and begun to crop the sward. The cabins, lately 
 so quiet, resound with the laughter of young girls, and 
 the octave voices of ladies calling to their maids to pre- 
 pare them for dinner, for the hour of this important 
 event is at hand. In half an hour the dancing-room 
 will be filled with beaux and belles, papas and mammas, 
 buzzing, and walking, and gazing, and waiting for the 
 dinner-bell. We shall have a dinner, such as it may be, 
 but luxurious enough for people who will leave pleasant 
 homes to go to watering-places ! 
 
 Ten o'clock, P. M. 
 The day is past; and as it is our last day at the 
 Springs, therefore rejoice with me, Mr. . I am im- 
 patient to be back once more to my dear, familiar room, 
 with its thousand and one comforts. I want to see my 
 pet deer, my doves, my squirrel, my flowers, my books, 
 my own looking-glass, for I don't look like myself 
 in these at the Springs, which look as if they had been 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 205 
 
 niacic while a stiff breeze was rippling across their molter. 
 surface. 
 
 I write to the measure of the dance in the hall, and 
 the merry jingle of violins and castanets. The young 
 folks are enjoying themselves while they are young. 
 The happiest persons I saw in the ball-room, however, 
 were the blacks. You who live in a free State, have no 
 idea of the privileges this class are permitted in a slave 
 State by the white people. They stand in the doors and 
 otherwise vacant places of the ball-room, and laugh, and 
 are as much at home as "massa and missis." They go 
 and come around or across it as they please; a favored 
 aunty will even ask you, "Please, missis, stand dis way 
 little bit, so I can see!" and ''missis" complies as 
 readily as if a lady had asked her. 
 
 One reason of this is that the system is so intimately 
 interwoven with domestic arrangements, and associations, 
 and habits, that, to all Southerners, slaves are necessary 
 appurtenances in all places. If they see not their own 
 slaves, they see those of others, and pay no attention to 
 their goings and comings. The slave will even attend 
 her mistress with her umbrella or cloak to her pew, and, 
 leaving them, go out again down the broad aisle, no one 
 noticing her. I have seen slaves sent from one part of 
 a church to another, during service, without attracting 
 observation; nay, even into the pulpit, to restore the 
 clergyman his pocket-handkerchief, Avhich he had let 
 fall. But in the North, who would suffer "negroes" to 
 appear in such places? A Southerner never objects nor 
 thinks of objecting to the presence of a servant any- 
 where. I might travel with Edith in a stage from Mem- 
 phis to Savannah, and not a Southern gentleman in it 
 
200 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 would speak of it, or think of it; while from a New Eng- 
 land coach, she would be ejected. Tell me, Mr. , 
 
 why is this so ? How is it, as it is certainly the fact, 
 that the Northern people have a positive dislike for the 
 negro? But I will not discuss this question. 
 
 These Springs have only within a few years attracted 
 attention. They are embosomed in the depths of a wil- 
 derness far from village, or civilized habitation. The road 
 by which we reached them after quitting Mount Pleasant, 
 a pretty and dirty village this side of Ashwood, lay for 
 twenty-eight miles through a forest, which was scarcely 
 invaded by the woodman's axe. For fifteen miles we 
 did not see a habitation. The solitude was grand. The 
 surface of the country was undulating, and we could see 
 long vistas into the depths of glens, where I imagined 
 lay the deer in covert, and where once crouched the wild 
 beast in his lair. It seemed at every winding in our 
 road that we should come upon some Indian hunter. 
 But the red man was not there. Wasted like summer 
 clouds in the warm sun, he had disappeared before 
 the sun of civilization. Now and then a squirrel would 
 cross our path, or a gray-plumed woodpecker startle 
 the echoes with his busy knocking at the doors of the 
 insects' homes, in the bark of the trees, for them to 
 come out and be eaten. Once a huge black snake lay 
 directly in our path, and would not stir till Charles 
 lashed him with the whip, when he moved ofi* as deliber- 
 ately as if he did not care for us, — a spice of the old 
 E(<ilen pride of power left in him. Of all things, why 
 should a serpent have been made use of by Sathanas to 
 tempt Eve ? It were more likely to frighten her. Per- 
 haps, however, that to Eve, before the Fall, all things 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 207 
 
 (all of God's creatures) were beautiful, — for it is sin only 
 that deforms and brings deformity ! 
 
 That Eve is not surprised that the serpent has a voice, 
 is, because she and Adam spoke, and it was natural for 
 her to suppose, until experience taught her to the con- 
 trary, that all brutes were likewise gifted with speech. 
 We see her evince no amazement at the vocal powers of 
 the serpent. 
 
 Dear me ! if I had been Eve — but nobody knows what 
 a body would have done, had a body been Eve ! — the pro- 
 bability is, that I should have eaten two apples instead 
 of one. 
 
 The arrival of our cavalcade at the Springs produced 
 a sensation, as new arrivals always do, — but nobody 
 seemed to notice its size and variety. Indeed, since we 
 have been here, quite a dozen of arrivals quite as formi- 
 dable in largeness of retinue have occurred. Nay, one 
 young lady had a wagon bringing up the rear containing 
 her harp and guitar. Some of the parties brought an 
 extra wagon for baggage. 
 
 Last Saturday, quite a horse troop of lads and lasses, 
 from the adjacent country, broke in upon us like a foray 
 of Highlanders upon the lowlands. Some of the young 
 men, every soul of whom was full six feet tall, brought 
 their rifles, and the girls an extra pair of shoes for a dance. 
 Some of the girls were handsome, but bold looking, and 
 ■with very fine figures. They actually took possession 
 of the hall, and danced half the day ; and then the young 
 men went down to a level meadow and passed an hour 
 shooting at a mark at fifty and eighty yards ; and excel- 
 lent marksmen, I am told, these Tennesseans are. They 
 are brave men too ! There is a look of quiet resolution 
 
208 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 fiboiit them that gives indications of that martial spirit 
 wliicli the trumpet of war so readily awakes in their 
 bosoms. General Jackson was not so much one individual 
 as he was the representative man of Tennessee. All 
 true born Tennesseans are more or less like him in as- 
 pect, build, courage, and indomitable resolution. They 
 take a pride in him ! They teach their children to imi- 
 tate him ! His name was the most stirring war-cry used 
 by the Tennessee legions in Mexico. Not long since 
 Isabel was at a party where, during the evening, the 
 bust of General Jackson was brought out and placed 
 upon a pedestal in the hall. It was hailed with three 
 cheers by the lads, and crowned with flowers by the 
 girls, who hand in hand danced around it, and sang with 
 
 spirit, 
 
 "Hail to the Chief r 
 
 The days at the Springs are passed pretty much alike ; 
 — the three meals being the most important points of 
 interest. What, with bowling and quaffing the waters, 
 dancing and walking, sleeping and talking, dressing and 
 eating, fighting the mosquitoes, and watching what others 
 do, we manage to kill each day, but are half killed in 
 our turn. To-morrow we leave. All is excitement 
 among our party. Dickon is in ecstasies, and when he 
 runs he turns a somerset at every third step. Charles 
 looks happy. Philip's serene face shows his content. 
 Edith expresses herself heartily tired of the place, albeit 
 
 she has been the belle here. Do not think, Mr. , 
 
 that the "darker shades" of our party do not find 
 ''reliefs." Probably there are here two hundred ser- 
 vants, belonging to the various families. Now as people 
 generally travel with their body servants, which are of 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 209 
 
 a caste superior to the rest, of course at the Springs they 
 enjoy the elite of the best society of Darkeydom. 
 
 The position of each colored individual is indisputably 
 fixed by that of his master. A servant of the President 
 of the United States, would of course be recognized as 
 "fuss class airystokrasy" by his fellow servants. The 
 richer and more respectable the master, the more re- 
 spectable the man or maid. Hence our colored circle is 
 exceedingly recherche. "It is," as Edith says, "ob de 
 highest exstinction." 
 
 If you would take your stand near the spring when 
 they come down after pitchers of water, you would witr 
 ness practical politeness. The courtesy of Samuel, the 
 
 coachman of Dr. W to Mary, the maid of Mrs. 
 
 Col. , as he solicits the honor of filling her pitcher for 
 
 her, and placing it on the polished mahogany veneering of 
 her rounded shoulders of the brightest brown tint, would 
 edify you. The polite salaams of Jacob to Rachel, the 
 dressing woman, and of Isaac, the footman, to Rebecca, 
 the nursery maid, would charm you. But you should 
 see the aristocracy of the shades dining. After the 
 masters and mistresses have left the dining hall, the long 
 table is relaid, and they who whilom served are now 
 feasted. 
 
 I have been twice in to look at them. Not less than 
 one hundred Ethiopian and Nubian ladies and gemmen 
 were seated in the places occupied an hour before by 
 their masters and mistresses. The entrees were con- 
 ducted comme ilfaut. There were servants of " de lower 
 klass," scullions and ostlers, boot-blacks and idlers, to 
 wait on them. The order, courtesy, civility, and pro- 
 priety that were observed at the table, could not have 
 14 
 
210 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 been surpassed at a dinner at Windsor Castle : on the 
 contrary, they were more polite than people at a Royal 
 dinner. The bowing and handing across the table to the 
 ladies — the " Shall I help you to a piece of de tender 
 loin;Missee Cinderella?" "Will you take a purtatur, 
 Mistress Betty?" ''Thank you. Mister Thomas, I will 
 if you pleases." "Here is a nice slice of the bres' of 
 de turkey for you, Missy Arabella." "Thankee ! much 
 obligated; it berry nice. Mister Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 "Ladies and gemmen, here de health of our Massas and 
 Missesses, and may dey nebber die till dere time come, 
 an' den lib forebber." 
 
 This toast being drunk in the residue of claret, there 
 was a more positive set-to upon the viands. Arid so these 
 black rogues dine every day ! I say to you, truthfully, 
 
 Mr. , the slaves in this state seem to be quite as 
 
 well content as their masters ; in fact, are only second 
 to them in all that they enjoy. I am becoming more 
 and more reconciled to the system ; but I don't think I 
 could charge myself with the responsibility of oiiming a 
 slave. Not that I think it wrong. The Bible allows it. 
 But to feel that a human being was mine ! that I was ac- 
 countable to him for his happiness and comfort here, and 
 to God for his soul's weal hereafter I This is, I think, 
 one of the most responsible features of domestic servitude. 
 "I f^el," said an intelligent Christian lady to me, "I 
 feel more deeply the weight of responsibility which the 
 ownership of the slaves my father has left me, places 
 upon me, than I do that of my own children. I tremble 
 at the reflection that God v/ill ask their soul's lives at 
 my hands !" 
 
 The sound of the feet of the dancers has ceased, and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 211 
 
 silence reigns in the hall so lately the scene of merriment. 
 Night is hushing all sounds. Here and there a star can 
 be seen, twinkling down through the opening in the trees 
 The murmur of the brook reaches my ear like an audible 
 voice. Some sleepless Orpheus is now waking the si- 
 lence with an ill-touched flute. Distant laughter of 
 young men, at cards, or wine, comes from yonder cabin. 
 A baby is crying in the room next to mine ! I hear the 
 sleepy father's growl, and the patient mother's low 
 ''hush." A mosquito sings in my ears, and another 
 bold wretch has bitten me on the hand. These are warn- 
 ings for me to retire, especially as we are to make an 
 early start homeward. So, good-night. 
 
 Kate. 
 
212 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Mr. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 Overton Park. 
 
 Once more in my own room, at my own desk and 
 escritoire^ with familiar objects, I resume my pen to ad- 
 dress you. How much what one writes depends for its 
 character upon the place in which it is penned ? To 
 write at ease, I must have everything about me that I 
 have been accustomed to. I must have my light ar- 
 ranged in just such a way, so that a soft radiance, mellow- 
 ing everything in the room, shall fall upon my paper, 
 just distinctly enough for me to see, yet not strong enough 
 to distract my attention by glare. I must have perfect 
 quiet, too. I can write best by lamp-light, a shaded 
 lamp, with the light thrown softly upon the paper. In a 
 rainy day my thoughts flow freest. I must have an old- 
 fashioned goose-quill. I cannot accustom myself to a 
 steel pen. It trips me up, and I have an awkward way 
 of bearing on when I write that a steel pen won't yield 
 to with sufficient flexibility. Half the people in this 
 country write on ruled paper. This is my abhorrence ! 
 I don't stop to notice lines, and so if I can't get any but 
 ruled paper, I write as often between the lines as on 
 them. I was taught, fortunately, to write straight at 
 school; and so were all my schoolmates ; and, till lately, 
 I supposed everybody could write on unruled paper. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 213 
 
 But Avlicn I was last in Nashville, I went to three book 
 stores on an unsuccessful search for unruled letter paper. 
 " We don't keep it — it is hardlj ever called for — every- 
 body buys the ruled," were the answers we received : but 
 at length I have obtained some by sending away for it. 
 The colonel says he has seen letters both from Henry 
 Clay and Daniel Webster written on lines. This is no 
 doubt owing to the accident of not having unruled paper 
 by them. It is school-boyish to follow this habit. Cer- 
 tainly no young lady ought to be considered educated 
 until she can write a letter on paper without ruled lines. 
 
 My last epistle left me just on the eve of departing 
 from the Springs. Well, we did leave the following 
 morning, taking up our line of travel, in the same impos- 
 ing caravanish manner in which we had come. 
 
 Towards evening, after a cool day's ride through the 
 forest, before described, we reached the little toAvn of 
 Mount Pleasant, which is situated amid the loveliest 
 scenery possible. Here we remained all night, putting 
 up with indifferent accommodations. This village ought 
 to be the prettiest in the state. But its population 
 seems to have no taste or pride. They let enormous 
 hogs, with noses like ploughshares, turn up their streets, 
 which the rain converts into bog holes; they neglect to 
 paint, or, at least, white-wash their fences; they pay no 
 attention to the neatness of their front yards; they are 
 without passable side-walks, and destitute of shade trees. 
 Why, if the scores of idlers we saw lounging about the 
 shops and tavern, would go to work for a week, in earn- 
 est, they might make their town truly a Mount Pleasant, 
 and double the value of it. 
 
 How dirty some of these Western towns are kept. I 
 
214 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 feel as if I wanted to take up the people and show them 
 the New England villages, as they show children Lon- 
 don. I am told the citizens are intelligent and highly 
 respectable; how then can they sit down in so much un- 
 tidiness ? Why is it that they don't know that rocks, 
 barrel hoops, rails, old shoes, old hats, boot legs, rags, 
 broken crockery, and such trash, disfigure a street, and 
 would mar the finest avenue that ever ran through a vil- 
 lage? The worst of it is, Mr. , Western people 
 
 don't care one fig for the opinion of strangers; while 
 Northerners live, as you may say, for the eyes of others. 
 Hence the attention of the one to the looks of everything 
 about his house and town, and the indifference of the 
 other to those things. 
 
 After leaving Mount Pleasant, our road lay through a 
 sweet valley, along the margin of a romantic stream. 
 The scenery was charming. In the course of an hour's 
 ride, Isabel selected fifty superb sites for villas ; for she 
 has a penchant for looking out pretty places to build upon ; 
 and, for that matter, so have I. But as I am not an 
 heiress, I fear the only house I shall ever call mine, will 
 be one of those "mansions" spoken of in the good Book. 
 
 About nine o'clock we passed Ashwood school, nestled 
 beneath the wooded cone of Ken Hill, and were so for- 
 tunate as to meet at the gate the learned Professor of 
 Belles Lettres, Donald McLeod, Esq., of Glasgow Uni- 
 versity, — a gentleman well known in the literary con- 
 stellation of our land. He is said to possess one of the 
 most scholarly minds in this country. How is it that 
 all Glasgow, and Dublin, and Oxford men that I meet, 
 are so much better educated than Harvard and Yale men? 
 Is the American system superficial? One would think 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 215 
 
 SO. The most eloquent scholar I recollect ever to have 
 seen was a graduate of the University of Dublin. I 
 have never seen an American, even a Professor, who 
 could converse fluently in Latin, or write Greek prose 
 with facility ; yet I have seen many from the above Uni- 
 versities do both. As for the young men here in the 
 West, their education is scarcely deserving of the name. 
 There is not a college in Tennessee of much higher rank 
 than a New England Academy, and ambitious young 
 men, after taking degrees at these Western "Colleges," 
 go to Harvard, and enter Sophomore. Perhaps a senior 
 Harvard man would have to enter low at Oxford! Who 
 knows ? The education of girls West is far beyond that 
 of the youths. Expense is not taken into account where 
 a daughter is to be educated; but fathers seem to think 
 money is thrown away in educating boys. Tennessee 
 has no common school system in operation, and in her 
 capital, hundreds of children are growing up wholly 
 ignorant. 
 
 Mr. McLeod was accompanied by a short, little, for- 
 eign-looking old gentleman, with gray whiskers, and a 
 demi-military air, who was over-dressed like a French 
 petit maitre of the ancient school. He was mounted on 
 a large gray horse, which he managed with a skilled 
 hand. He was presented to us as " The Compte Meolis." 
 He boAved to his saddle bow, and lifted his chapeau with 
 dignified and smiling politeness, and said he was " our 
 very humble servant." 
 
 "Meolis," said I, thoughtfully, "There was a Gover- 
 nor of Rome of that name, sir?" 
 
 "Yes," he answered; "that is me, at your service, 
 Miss," he responded, bowing. 
 
216 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 I gazed on him with curiosity, for I now recalled to 
 mind that General Meolis of Rome, was commander of 
 the Garde Mobile, which was composed of Knights; and 
 that he held Kome against the Spanish troops. This 
 w^arrior was then, in person, this old Knight of seventy 
 now before me, riding by the side of the carriage, his 
 riding whip and bridle in one hand, and his open snuff- 
 box in the other. As we passed a cart which was dis- 
 charging stone, the noise alarmed the old Count's horse, 
 and he had an opportunity of displaying his admirable 
 horsemanship, by skillfully restraining the fire of his 
 animal ; but in the caracolling, a paper was released from 
 the rider's gaping coat pocket, which bursting as it fell, 
 strewed the ground with candy and bon-bons. Then he 
 dismounted carefully to gather them up, smiling good 
 humoredly at the mishap, and telling us that he always 
 carried them when he went to the school, ^'pour les en- 
 fants.'' We found him social and amusing, and quite 
 a gallant homme, and really regretted his departure 
 when he took leave of us at the marble gate-way of Mon- 
 mouth, the residence of Mr. A. Polk, w^here he resides. 
 When he left us, he bowed to his horse's mane, and 
 slowly rode up the avenue, as if he regretted to quit 
 such good company as Isabel and me. Mr. McLeod left 
 us previously, to call at St. John's Chapel. From the 
 colonel I learned that the Count was an old French 
 exile ; that he was a nephew of Marshal Ney, and had 
 been a distinguished officer under Napoleon. That he 
 had been many years in this country, had taught at 
 Germantown, and a few years since w^as invited to take 
 the chair of Modern Languages in the Columbia Insti- 
 tute; but that, being now almost loo old to teach, Mr. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 217 
 
 Polk, with genuine Southern hospitality, has invited him 
 to become an inmate of his house, where he has given 
 him a home for life. 
 
 The Count is a man of excellent amiability, and a 
 good deal of simplicity of character ; but his friends say, 
 as his memory of past events f;iils, he draws a little on 
 his imagination, and they sometimes run him somewhat 
 hard upon having said he was at two places on the same 
 day, which were five hundred miles apart, doing good 
 fighting at both. But the Count takes the quizzing in 
 good part, shrugs his shoulders, plies his snuff, smiles 
 ineffably, and says, "Maybe, jentilmen, I vas mistake 
 de day. But vera good ! You may laugh, I laugh next 
 time!" 
 
 The Count is fond of children, for whom he ahvays 
 has his pockets full of cakes or candy ; he is a good 
 "churchman," and occasionally still teaches the French 
 class en amateur at Ken Hill School. May he live a 
 thousand years! if his generous host has no objections. 
 
 After passing the Ashwood gate and post-office, we 
 drove rapidly into Columbia, a distance of seven miles ; 
 and by three o'clock in the afternoon, we once more be- 
 held the roofs and chimneys of Overton Hall towering 
 above the oaks which environ it. How delightful the 
 sensation of realizing that one's wanderings have ceased, 
 and that one is at home again ! It is worth enduring 
 the discomforts of a watering-place a short time, to en- 
 joy this feeling. Every thing seems to be more beauti- 
 ful here than before. And how many changes have 
 taken place in the few weeks we have been absent ! The 
 peaches have ripened ; the apples are becoming rosy 
 red ; a new set of flowers have made their appearance, 
 
218 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and instead of the little eggs which we left in the mock- 
 ing-bird's cage are three innocent little things that look 
 something like mice, on the eve of feathering. Then 
 the canaries were so glad to see us, sending forth the 
 wildest and most joyous carols from their tiny throats 
 for very happiness. The rabbits frisked about us, and 
 all the dogs, " Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart," acted as 
 if they would shake their tails off with their rough and 
 gyratory welcomings, running around and around us, 
 and then around the house, chasing each other in full 
 race, and tumbling and rolling over the grass, from sheer 
 excess of spirits. Then the old blind war-horse pricked 
 up his ears, when he heard my voice, and gave three 
 great whisks of his heavy tail, ending with a low whine 
 of joy. But you should have seen my pet deer, the 
 once wounded invalid. I had no sooner entered the 
 green paddock where it was, then it came bounding to- 
 wards me with long, graceful leaps, and would fairly 
 have run over me, if I had not stepped aside. As it 
 was, it gave me a rough and honest-hearted welcome, 
 rubbing its nose against my shoulder, and almost, nay, 
 I very believe, the rogue tried to kiss me, but this salu- 
 tation I adroitly escaped, and hugged my pet about the 
 neck in lieu thereof, and patted its shoulder. But this 
 was too quiet a way of expressing its joy at seeing me 
 again ; so it broke from me, and began to caper about 
 the paddock, flying around it, then across it at right 
 angles, then from corner to corner, and then miscellane- 
 ously in every direction, all at once, and finally ter- 
 minating this mikra mania by suddenly crouching at 
 my feet. 
 
 But the best welcome of all was that from the ser- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 219 
 
 vants. They flocked around the carriage, every dark 
 face radiant with smiles, and exhibiting ivory enough 
 for half a mile of piano-keys placed in a row. Jenny 
 Lind's reception in New York was a trifle compared with 
 ours. I thought they would shake our hands off. After I 
 had been a little while in my room, in came Aunt Winny, 
 the fat cook, in her Sunday fix, having rigged up to 
 welcome me, being too particular to come in, in her work- 
 in o- dress. She seemed so fflad to see me, and said it so 
 many times, that I did not at all regret a trip, the re- 
 turn from which could be productive of so much simple 
 and hearty joy. She then told me how they had all 
 missed us, and " 'specially the deer, Missy Kate," she 
 added, " it acted just like a human a'ter you went away, 
 and cried a'ter you like a baby, and wouldn't eat noffin' 
 for de fuss two days, and I had to cook it someat nice, 
 and coax it, and then 'twouldn't eat till I made Jake put 
 on your old rainy cloak and old sun hat and come and 
 stand by me, to make b'lieve it's you, you know, and the 
 simple t'ing begin to eat right offi" 
 
 At the idea of seeing the black imp Jake, her long-heeled, 
 thick-lipped son, personating me, I burst into a hearty 
 fit of laughter, but I did not fail to compliment Aunt 
 Winny 's sagacity, and to reward her solicitude for my pet. 
 
 All is now as it was before we left. I have Isabel at 
 her piano again before breakfast, practising Jenny Lind's 
 songs ; the colonel goes galloping a-field ere the dew is 
 off the grass, and I am at my morning studies in Ger- 
 man as before. There is, however, some prospect that 
 ere long we shall make another excursion, but not to 
 any watering-place. The colonel will have to visit New 
 Orleans to aaTange for the sale of his cotton and tobacco, 
 
220 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 in October, and he has invited us to accompany him. 
 The trip will be a delightful one, the first two hundred 
 miles being down the dark flowing Cumberland, which is 
 described as one of the most beautiful of Western rivers, 
 then on the Ohio, and thence launched upon the Missis- 
 sippi, we shall keep its mighty current for a thousand 
 miles. The idea of such a voyage in the superb steamers 
 that float upon these western waters is pleasant, and I 
 have no doubt that we shall greatly enjoy ourselves. 
 Yet I sigh at the prospect of once more quitting our 
 retreat. But in this world, sajs the wise man, "No- 
 thing is in one stay." Every thing, indeed, is moving. 
 The earth races round the sun, the moon around the 
 earth, which rolls around itself ; Mars and Jupiter chass^ 
 with Venus, and the sun itself, say the astronomers, 
 marches at a dignified pace around some unknown cen- 
 tre of the universe. ''Keep moving," then, being the 
 watchword of the planets, how can we insignificant 
 dwellers thereon but follow the example of our betters ! 
 So we shall go to New Orleans. * 
 
 Whether I write you again before we are en route, 
 will depend on circumstances. I promised you a letter 
 from the Hermitage, and this you shall have, if possible, 
 as next week we ride over there, it being but a short two 
 hours' gallop across the country. 
 
 I am glad to find the Americans received Jenny Lind 
 with so much enthusiasm. A love for music is common 
 to men and angels. It allies us to them in sympathies 
 the more we delight in song. It is a divine talent, and 
 if we believe the Bible, it will go with us beyond the 
 grave ; for the happy beings in Paradise are represented 
 as singing now the "Song of the Lamb," and now the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 221 
 
 '^New Song," to the sublime accompaniment of ten 
 thousand times ten thousand angels striking their harps 
 of gold, saying : 
 
 " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, 
 and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and 
 glory, and blessing ; and every creature which is on the 
 earth, and under the earth, heard I saying. Blessing, and 
 honor, and glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon 
 the throne, and unto the Lamb forever ;" and they ended 
 this celestial chorus by casting their glittering crowns 
 before the throne of Him who liveth forever and ever. 
 
 It is a hopeful thing for a nation to rise up as one 
 man, and do homage to this personification of earthly 
 music. They do not so much worship her, as recognize 
 the existence in her of the perfection of that which be- 
 longs to humanity en masse, but is vouchsafed to but 
 one in a generation. To see them doing homage to her 
 kindles hope for the elevation of our country, just as 
 following in the chariot-wheels of a conqueror, with his 
 garments rolled in blood, would darken hopes of the ad- 
 vancement of humanity. One thing only is wanting to 
 complete the halo of glory which encircles the modest 
 brow of Jenny Lind. It is to consecrate her voice by 
 singing therewith one Hymn to the Being who endowed 
 her with it. Let her pour forth in the sacred chaunts 
 of the princely David, or the queenly Miriam, that thril- 
 ling voice, and our souls would soar on wings of her 
 songs to the very gates of Paradise. Then, indeed, 
 would she be able to prove to the world that music is a 
 "gift of God wherewith to praise Him." 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
222 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 Mr. : 
 
 Dear Sir, — A residence on a large plantation is to 
 a Northerner rich with subjects of interest. Every 
 thing is so different from what he has been accustomed 
 to, his curiosity is continually excited by the novelties 
 which are brought before him, or which he is running 
 his face against. Eirst, there is the slave himself, his 
 condition, his cabin, his dress, his manners, his labors, 
 his amusements, his religion, his domestic relations ; then 
 there is the plantation, with fences a mile apart, present- 
 ing in one broad enclosure land enough to make a score 
 of Yankee pastures ; then there is the cotton-plant, with 
 its rich, pure, white, fleecy treasures, hanging to the ga- 
 thering hand ; then there is the tobacco-plant, with its 
 beautiful, tender, green leaf in spring, and its broad, 
 palmetto-looking leaf in autumn, green lined with brown ; 
 then there is the cotton-gin, with the negroes at work in 
 it, the snowy cotton flying from the wind-fans in fleecy 
 showers that mock a December snow-storm ! then there 
 is the baling and screwing, the roping and marking with 
 planter's name, all objects of interest to witness ; then 
 there is the planter himself, so different in his manners, 
 tastes, education, prejudices, notions, bearing, feelings, 
 and associations, from the New England man ; then there 
 is his lady, accustomed to have slaves attend upon the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 223 
 
 glance of her eye from childhood, coinmanding and direct- 
 ing her large domestic establishmcntj where the food, 
 clothing, comfort, and health sometimes of a hundred 
 slaves depend upon her managing care ; then there is 
 the son, who is raised half-hunter, half-rustic, with as 
 much book learning as his pastimes in the field and wood 
 will allow him to turn his attention to — the idol of the 
 old negroes and the hope of the younger ones — who has 
 never seen a city, but may one day walk Broadway, or 
 Chestnut street, "a fine young Southern blood," with a 
 fortune to spend, high-spirited, chivalrous, quick to re- 
 sent an insult, too proud to give one, ready to fight for 
 his lady-love or his country ! prone to high living and 
 horse-racing, but at home courteous and hospitable as 
 becomes a true country gentleman ; then there is the 
 daughter of the house, too, a lovely girl, with beautiful 
 hands, for she has never used them at harder work than 
 tuning her harp, (and hardly at this, if she can trust her 
 maid,) who rides like Di Vernon, is not afraid of a gun, 
 nor^ eke ! a pistol, is inclined to be indolent, loves to 
 write letters, to read the late poets, is in love with Byron, 
 sings Jenny Lind's songs with great taste and sw^eetness, 
 has taken her diploma at the Columbia Institute, or some 
 other conservatory of hot-house plants, knows enough 
 French to guess at it when she comes across it in an 
 English book, and of Italian to pronounce the names of 
 her opera songs ! she has ma's carriage at her command 
 to go and come at her pleasure in the neighborhood, re- 
 ceives long forenoon visits from young gentlemen who 
 come on horseback, flirts at evening promenades on the 
 piazza with others, and is married at sixteen without 
 being courted ! 
 
224 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 The manners and customs tlms cniimeratecl arc quite 
 different from those at the North. Let me describe some 
 of the more striking differences a little in detail. Who 
 ever sees an old graj-headed gentleman, mounted on 
 horseback, and a spirited horse at that, galloping along 
 the road with a cigar in his mouth, in New England? 
 Yet we never ride out that we don't meet one or more 
 gray-headed planters, booted and spurred, — sometimes 
 with a cloth cap on when the day is windy, — trotting to 
 or from town at a slapping pace ; and followed by one 
 or more dogs. You might ride all over the state of 
 Connecticut or Massachusetts without seeing the like. 
 There they drive about in chaises, or buggies, or carry- 
 alls. Where at the north would we meet elegant coaches 
 with plaited harness, and all the appointments rich and 
 complete, drawn by a pair of mules ? Yet here it is an 
 every day occurrence to see them, for mules here are 
 highly esteemed. Where in the North would fashionable 
 ladies ride mules ? Y^et here it is by no means uncommon 
 for a handsome mule to be preferred, especially by timid 
 persons. To what rural church on the Sabbath would 
 every family come in its own carriage? Yet a private 
 carriage stands outside of our church for every family 
 in it. 
 
 The customs, too, are different in respect to the license 
 given to daughters. In the North the young lady is left 
 alone with her beaux, and pa and her ma retire. In the 
 South it is deemed indecorous for them to be left alone by 
 themselves, and the mother or some member of the family 
 is always in the room ; and if none of these, a female slave 
 is seated on the rug at the door. This is a relic of the 
 Spanish duenna system. Young girls are kept in very 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 225 
 
 strict bounds by mammas in this respect ; and I was told by 
 a married gentleman, a few days since, that his wife never 
 took his arm till she took it to be led to church on her 
 weddhig day; and that he never had an opportunity of 
 kissing her but twice while he was addressing her, (they 
 were six months engaged!) and in both cases by means 
 of a stratagem he resorted to ^f drugging a peach with 
 laudanum w^hich he gave to the attending servant, and 
 thereby put her into a sound sleep. To tliis custom is 
 to be attributed so many runaway matches. If the girls 
 were confided in by their mothers, and suifered to see 
 and become acquainted with those who address them, they 
 would hardly elope. Freedom of intercourse would put 
 an end to these clandestine marriages. I like, of the 
 two customs, the Northern best; but both of them are 
 carried too near the extreme. I know several young 
 ladies in this vicinity who have told me that they were 
 never for two hours out of sight of their mammas. 
 
 This watchfulness, by and by, defeats its own aim. 
 The lover is piqued, and begins to regard the whole 
 matter as a fair field for strategy ; and instead of looking 
 upon the mother of his future wife with respect and afiec- 
 tion, he beholds in her an enemy, whom it would be a 
 victory to circumvent. The daughter soon begins to look 
 at it in the same view, and away they fly together to 
 some Gretna Green. 
 
 But runaway matches seem to be marked with Divine 
 displeasure. I have never heard of a happy one. Not far 
 from us resides a w^idow lady, who eloped from an excel- 
 lent mother, "vyhen she was young, with a worthless young 
 man. She is now the mother of three grown daughters, 
 
 overy one of which has eloped and left her, the youngest 
 15 
 
226 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 only last June, at fifteen years of age, and she is left 
 desolate and broken-hearted ! Thus is the example of 
 the mother followed by the children ; and whom can she 
 blame but herself? But the worst remains to be told. 
 The eldest has already been deserted by her husband, who 
 has gone to California, and she last week had to seek 
 shelter in the home of her childhood ; the second daugh- 
 ter is suing for a divorce, though she has not been thir- 
 teen months married. Ah, girls I never in an evil hour 
 place your hand in that of the young man who would 
 counsel you to desert your paternal home ! It is cruel 
 to deprive those who have nourished you, and with sweet 
 hope looked forward to the happy day of your honorable 
 marriage beneath their own roof; it is cruel to rob them 
 of the enjoyment of this happiness. It is tJieir right to 
 give you to him who is the choice of your heart. It is 
 their blessed privilege to bless your union, and witness 
 your and your husband's joy. How can you then rob 
 them of their participation in that joyous bridal, towards 
 w^hich they have been so many years looking forward? 
 Daughters who elope, wrest from their parents that 
 crowning joy of a father's and a mother's life — the gra- 
 tification of seeing; their daughter married at their own 
 fireside ! A bridal elsewhere is unnatural, and God's 
 blessing will not follow it. 
 
 There is a custom here of kissing when ladies meet, 
 that seems to me quite a waste of the "raw material," 
 as some envious gentleman has remarked, doubtless some 
 bachelor editor. You might see in Boston the meeting 
 of one hundred pair of young ladies during the day, and 
 not seven couple would salute each other on the lips. 
 Yet in Tennessee all females kiss, old and young, even if 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 2i7 
 
 they see each other as often as every day. 1 am ac- 
 quainted with a teacher of young ladies here, Avho says 
 that his schoLars all kiss when they meet in the morning ; 
 and he has seen them when they enter late, in going past 
 several girls to their seats, kiss every pair of lips they 
 pass en route. At church doors of a Sunday there is 
 quite a fusilade of this small arms. There is a warmth 
 of feeling, a heartiness of affection, a tenderness of 
 sympathy in the Southern ladies, that is the cause of all 
 this. The Northern ladies are cold, without question. 
 They are also better scholars where mere "book" is con- 
 cerned. They have more comprehensive minds, and are 
 more intellectually clever. Southern girls, from all ac- 
 counts, make but poor book students. They have, how- 
 ever, so much imagination and feeling, that they converse 
 with brilliancy, appear well and under an indefinable 
 grace, peculiar to them, can veil every scholastic defect. 
 It is only when a lady takes up her pen that her real 
 deficiencies of education are perceptible. If I were 
 asked to judge of the acquirements of a young lady, I 
 would say, "Let me see one of her letters!" I know 
 a beautiful girl who confessed to Isabel the reason she did 
 not answer a letter that she wrote to her from the Springs 
 was, that "she did not know how to write a letter fit to 
 be seen !" The truth is, the young lady was always in- 
 dulo-ed at home : went or staid from school at her will ; 
 reached fourteen without being able to spell correctly ; 
 was then mortified to have her defects made known to 
 her schoolmates, and refused to go to school longer. 
 Her father is the Honorable Mr. , and she is exceed- 
 ingly beautiful and interesting, and now eighteen years 
 of age. The pen is all that will discover her deficiencies, 
 
228 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and tliis she will probably never take in her hands ! 
 Being brought up in a family of intelligent persons, she 
 talks well ! Poor girl! what mortifications are before 
 her ! If she is engaged to an intelligent man, and he 
 should address her a letter during an absence, what ex- 
 cuse can she offer for not replying? If she marry him, 
 and he discover her imperfect education, how mortified 
 will he be ! How humiliated she ! Yet it is her own fault ; 
 and scores of girls in this country are walking in the 
 same path. 
 
 Last night, we were seated in the drawing room, lis- 
 tening to Mr. Sargeant's fine song to Jenny Lind, sung 
 by Isabel, and also set to music by her, when there was 
 a sudden commotion among two or three young ladies 
 present, and dodging, and screaming, and throwing hand- 
 kerchiefs over their heads ! A hat was in the room I 
 Isabel was too much occupied to know it, and kept on 
 playing, while the velvet- winged bird of dusk darted in 
 elegant curves through the upper air of the room with 
 arrowy swiftness. It was almost impossible to follow his 
 gyrations with the eye. Two young gentlemen present 
 sat very stifily as if they expected to be hit ; and at last 
 the bat darted directly across the piece of music before 
 Isabel's eyes. In an instant she was in the middle of 
 the room, with a handkerchief thrown over her hair, and 
 uttering exclamations of slight terror. Here then were 
 four ladies with their heads picturesquely^ covered with 
 their lace kerchiefs, and two of the number hiding be- 
 hind chairs, and a third behind the harp. 
 
 "Bless me!" cried the colonel, "is it possible, girls, 
 you are afraid of this bat ?" 
 
 " To be sure ! Do call some one to drive it out !'* 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 229 
 
 At this moment a second bat made its entree^ and be- 
 tween the two, I thought the girls woiikl go wikl. Isa- 
 bel, seeing her parasol, caught it, and opening it quickly 
 sat down under it upon a low stool, awaiting the issue. 
 
 "Thejare harmless!" cried the colonel. '' They do 
 not fly in here to eat you, but mosquitoes, which they 
 feed on!" 
 
 "Oh, sir, they light upon the head," said the pretty 
 brunette, behind the harp; "and if they once get in the 
 hair, it all has to be cut off before it can be detached 
 from it!" 
 
 "They have barbs all over their wings and claws, 
 colonel, indeed they have," said a blue-eyed girl, who 
 was concealed under the piano cover; — "and if they — 
 ah-h-h!" she shrieked out, as one of the bats swept past 
 her forehead; and she quickly drew in her face, without 
 waiting to finish what she was saying. 
 
 "Where were you^ Kate?" I hear you ask, Mr. In- 
 quisitive. 
 
 I had been reading a story in the Knickerbocker 
 Magazine, before Bel commenced singing; and still held 
 the book on my lap; but I neither ran, screamed, nor 
 covered my head ; for I had frequently received in my 
 room such twilight visitors, and at first was a little ner- 
 vous, as I had heard such terrible accounts of their 
 lodging in the hair, and never being got out till the hair 
 was cut ofi"; but as I never take marvelous stories on 
 hearsay, I one evening, seeing that they did not harm 
 me, watched the motions of three bats that were together 
 disporting themselves in my chamber. I saw, after a 
 few minutes' observation, that their movements, instead 
 of being erratic and uncertain, and aimed to annoy me, 
 
230 THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 were governed by some direct object in view. A little 
 closer scrutiny enabled me to see that they were in pur- 
 suit of mosquitoes, which flew about the room, and that 
 every time they made a dart they caught one in their 
 mouse-shaped jaws. 1 was greatly relieved from per- 
 sonal apprehension when I had achieved this discovery; 
 and I continued my writing as if they were not there, 
 and soon forgot their presence. At length, when I had 
 completed the letter I was writing to my midshipman 
 brother in the Mediterranean, I looked for my "birds," 
 and found that they had quietly disappeared. Since 
 then I am a philosopher when a bat is in a room. 
 
 The young ladies, however, being convinced that bats 
 are animated combs flying about for a head to fasten in, 
 would not be persuaded of the innocency of their inten- 
 tions. The colonel, therefore, had to call in two or 
 three servants, to drive them out, with brooms, riding- 
 whips, and what not! But this only made the matter 
 worse. The poor things, interrupted in their mosquito 
 hawking, became terrified at these belligerent manifesta- 
 tions, and sailed low to avoid the blows aimed at them 
 in the air. In these escapades they darted under the 
 piano, as a shriek from the blye-ey ed Kider testified ; and 
 even beneath Isabel's parasol^ as a sudden scream from 
 her bore witness. The girls were now in despair. The 
 colonel and I sat laughing and looking on. At length 
 it was resolved, as bats are said to follow lights, to take 
 the two astral lamps out upon the piazza. The draTwdng- 
 room was darkened in vain. It was the mosquitoes, not 
 the lamps, that attracted them, and, if any thing, the 
 idea of their flying about in there in the dark, only in- 
 creased the terror of the terrified girls. Stir out them- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 231 
 
 selves the girls would not. The young gentlemen, in 
 the meanwhile, were using their hats to try and knock 
 the enemy down. Twice in the dark I felt the wind of 
 their* noiseless wings upon my cheek. The lamps were 
 ordered back, and with a hard battle two of the enemy 
 were laid low, and the residue driven forth. 
 
 "Now," said the colonel, after the girls had been 
 twelve times assured that the bats Avere liors du combat, 
 and incapable of acting as combs, either fine or coarse, 
 side comb or back comb, and holding up to the lamp one 
 of the dead mosquito hunters,— "I wish to convince 
 you that these delicately-winged animals are not after 
 you, and could do you no harm." 
 
 Here he held up a bat to the light by its extended 
 wincrs. The sight of it made blue eyes crawl, and the 
 brunette utter an expression of detestation. • It was both 
 ugly and pretty — its wings being transparent, and ele- 
 gantly constructed, and its body like that of an over-fed 
 mole. Its head was small, like a mouse's, and the 
 colonel, opening its jaws, showed its sharp teeth, and a 
 little pile of mosquitoes under its tongue. "You see 
 what its food is!" he said. "The teeth are sharp, but 
 the mouth is so small it couldn't bite even a child's finger. 
 Now look at its claws. They are sharp and curved, to 
 cling by; but the curve instead of being barbed, is a half 
 circle ; and whatever the claw grasps can easily be re- 
 leased from it." 
 
 "But its wings. Look at the horrid thing's wing.-,! 
 
 exclaimed blue eyes. 
 
 "Well, let us examine its wings," said the colonel 
 smiling. "You see that each angle where the joints 
 articulate, is defended by a small hook — one on each 
 
232 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 wing. These hooks are but the curve of three quarters 
 of a circle; and if a bat should light upon any one of 
 your heads, and hang there by these two hooks, he could 
 easily be disengaged without sacrificing one silken strand 
 thereof. Let me try it, Bel!" 
 
 But Isabel fled, and so did the rest. A negro boy's 
 wooly caput being at hand, the colonel placed the bat 
 upon his crispy poll, and haying made the wings take 
 their strongest hold, he showed us how easily the hold 
 could be removed, even from such tangled locks. "■ The 
 use of these hooks," he added, " is for the bats to hang 
 to each other by in winter, when they swarm together 
 like a cluster of bees, and in huge masses, many feet 
 in circumference, remain in torpid suspension until 
 spring." 
 
 The young ladies at length professed themselves satis- 
 fied, and the colonel made each one pledge herself never 
 to run from a bat, or cover her head again if a bat came 
 into the room. 
 
 Mr. Sargeant's beautiful and patriotic song was then 
 resumed and finished, and many others, and the evening, 
 which had been so ludicrously interrupted, passed ofi" 
 without further incidents. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 233 
 
 LETTER XXYIII. 
 
 Mr : 
 
 My Dear Sir, — As you were so kind as to express 
 a wish that I should write for you a series of traveling 
 letters on my route South, and during my sojourn in the 
 land of " mocking-birds and sunny skies," I commence 
 then my first letter, which like all ''first letters" and 
 prefaces, I fear will be wofully dull. It having been 
 decided at the Park, some weeks ago, in full council as- 
 sembled in the colonel's library, that we should all go to 
 New Orleans, preparations were forthwith set on foot. 
 
 You must know, that the colonel takes a trip every 
 year to this great Southern emporium to look after the 
 sales of his cotton and tobacco, which generally precedes 
 him some days, but he usually goes alone. On this oc- 
 casion, however, there was to be an attraction in New 
 Orleans, such as it or any other city could have but once 
 in an age. Jenny Lind was to be there in February ! 
 Therefore, Isabel won her father's consent by dint of 
 coaxing and pretty teazing, and, as I am never left out 
 of any party of pleasure, "Kate must go too." 
 
 It was a propitious morning when the family coach 
 drove up to the portico of the mansion to receive us, 
 and, I was going to add, "our baggage." But that was 
 so enormous in magnitude, the baggage of two girls, 
 that old black Peter with two mules harnessed into his 
 
234 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 red wagon, took it to town in advance of us — having 
 started at the peep of day. All the house servants came 
 out and gathered round the carriage to see us off. The 
 colonel shook hands with all the old ones, and Isabel 
 kissed Aunt Nannie, her old African nurse, and also her 
 mother's nurse before her, wdiile tears filled the beautiful 
 eyes of the maiden, at the genuine grief of the old woman 
 at parting with her. 
 
 "Take good keer o' your dear blessed self. Miss 
 Bella," she said, sobbing as if her ebony heart would 
 break in two, '' an' don't forget old aunty what lub you 
 better dan she lub de life in her own oV body. Don't 
 fall into de ribber, and may de Lord bring you and 
 massa and Missy Katy all back to us safe an' sound!" 
 
 There was an interesting parting aside, between 
 Charles, the colonel's body servant, who was mounted 
 on a fine -horse to follow us, and his young wife Mary; 
 and also a tender leave-taking between Isabel's dressing 
 maid, Clara, and a dark Romeo, to whom she was be- 
 trothed, and for her marriage with w^hom Isabel had pro- 
 mised to purchase her a wedding dress in New Orleans. 
 
 After the parting with the servants was over, George, 
 the coachman, at a signal from his master, flourished his 
 long lash over his horses' ears, and away w^e went roll- 
 ing rapidly from the door along the smoothly-graveled 
 avenue. The very birds seemed to sing us "good bye" 
 as we trotted down the glades of old trees which were 
 vocal with their notes. The last thing I caught sight 
 of was my pet-deer thrusting her meek face over the pad- 
 dock, looking wistfully after the carriage, and evidently 
 having an intelligent understanding of the whole matter, 
 that I was going away to leave her for a long time. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 235 
 
 Perhaps, however, I had fully made her to comprehend 
 this before I got into the carriage ; for the first thing in 
 the morning I went round and took, a ceremonious and 
 touching leave, (don't you be so hard-hearted as to smile, 
 
 Mr. ), of all my pets. I said a few kind words to 
 
 my squirrels, fed and patted my rabbits, embraced the 
 shao-cry neck of, and almost kissed, old Bruin, a famous 
 large black dog, with an eye and a gravity like Daniel 
 Webster, and a voice like a lion ; and the pony I did kiss, 
 and I do believe that the poor, gentle-hearted animal's 
 large brown eyes filled with tears at the farewell tones 
 of my voice. He seemed to comprehend as clearly as 
 if he had been a human being, that I came to say good- 
 bye. He rubbed his white face against my shoulder, and 
 followed me to the gate, and when I shut it against him, 
 there was a look of sorrow in his eyes that deeply moved 
 me. 
 
 What a mystery a brute creature is ! Have you not 
 seen a horse, or a deer, or a dog, act as if a human soul 
 were within its body, and all that was wanted was the 
 gift of speech to express its love, and hands to embrace 
 you with all the tenderness of friendship ? — nay, only a 
 human form to be your faithful, true, and loving friend 
 and companion. I cannot believe that the souls of brutes 
 perish forever ! God must doubtless have for them a 
 paradise fitted for their enjoyment, and adapted to their 
 highest capability of happiness. The Bible has certainly 
 said, " God shall save both man and beast." 
 
 Are there not among the countless worlds of stars, and 
 in the boundless space of the illimitable universe, place 
 and space for all God's creatures to live and be happy 
 in ? Shall not the noble horse, doomed to the lash and 
 
236 THE SUNNY south; oh, 
 
 dray all his life, have compensation in a universe ruled 
 hy a God of equity ? Wise men say that this earth, 
 and all things thereon, from man down to the lowest 
 form of life, is a type of Heaven. If, then, in the world 
 to come, there are " spirits of men," there must be "souls 
 of brutes," and a spiritual form of everything material. 
 But this is too profound a theme for a young woman's 
 
 pen, Mr. ; but if my words here written will only 
 
 cause some to look more kindly upon brutes, I shall be 
 glad that I have given my ideas " shapes and sen- 
 tences." 
 
 I have already written of the beautiful scenery which 
 spreads away, on either hand, from the turnpike that 
 conducts to the city ; of the pleasant villas, noble, na- 
 tural parks in all their aboriginal grandeur, and sweet 
 cottages here and there embowered in foliage by the road- 
 side. I have, also, in a former letter, spoken of Nash- 
 ville, of its architectural elegance, of the beauty of its 
 females, the bevies of lovely school-misses that throng 
 the streets, the chivalry of the gentlemen, and the hos- 
 pitality of all. I shall, therefore, not detain you there, 
 
 Mr. , but drive you at once to the superb steamer 
 
 * 'America," which, on our arrival in town, was lying at 
 the upper landing, awaiting her passengers. If you have 
 never seen a Western boat, you have yet to behold the 
 most majestic and comfortable river-steamer afloat. 
 They are constructed and arranged on a plan entirely 
 different from the boats on the Eastern waters. They 
 are all, also, high pressure ; and our steamer was, at in- 
 tervals, bellowing and roaring from her escape pipe with 
 a muttering and condensed power, which showed how 
 terrible is the strength of pent up steam. Having 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 287 
 
 reached the quay, which was covered with enormous hogs- 
 heads of tobacco and cotton-bales, which the negroes, in 
 getting them on board, handled with great dexterity by 
 means of iron hooks, — making our way through this up- 
 roar of commerce, for commerce is very noisy, all the 
 w^orld over, with its thundering w^heels and ''heave-o- 
 yeo !" we gained the stage which led on board. We were 
 met at the landing by a polite and handsome clerk, 
 who, with the utmost courtesy, escorted our party to the 
 cabin. This was the first large steamer I had been 
 on board of, and my surprise at its vastness and splendor 
 was no doubt visible in my face. We first entered 
 the boat, not as in the East, near the stern, but at the 
 bows ! 
 
 We were then conducted up a broad flight of stairs to 
 the upper deck, which was a spacious portico or vestibule 
 to the forward saloon. This portico, or ''forward guard," 
 as it is called, is a fine spacious promenade, and has, 
 withal, room enough in the centre of it to accommodate 
 a parapet of trunks, which rose like a wall, dividing it 
 in halves. We thence entered the saloon, and passed a 
 glittering " bar" on one side, and a range of state-rooms 
 for the captain and his clerks, on the other, all fitted 
 up with elegance and taste. Beyond this, for a vast dis- 
 tance, extended the main cabin, which, as we traversed 
 it, seemed to be endless. On either side were handsome 
 doors, placed at regular intervals, leading into state-rooms. 
 The whole was richly carpeted, hung with superb chan- 
 deliers, and adorned with the most costly furniture. 
 After we had walked about a hundred feet, as I should 
 guess, we, at length, through a suit of lofty folding doors, 
 reached the ladies' cabin, which was full one-third the 
 
238 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 length of the main cabin, and more tastefully adorned. 
 Sofas, a piano, lounges, rocking-chairs, marble tables, 
 chandeliers, and candelabras, made up the several details 
 of the whole. Still farther beyond were doors opening 
 upon a noble verandah, the breadth of the whole stern of 
 the boat, and overhanging the water. 
 
 This verandah, as I afterwards saw, extended quite 
 around the boat, on both sides, and uniting with the por- 
 tico on the bow, made a continuous and delightful pro- 
 menade, broad and roomy, for several hundred feet, 
 entirely around the whole extent of the boat. It is these 
 verandahs which add such comfort to the Western boats, 
 and make traveling on them so delightful. In descend- 
 ing the rivers, one can sit or lounge on them all day, 
 watching the scenery, instead of being enclosed in the 
 cabins. 
 
 There is another agreeable peculiarity of these boats, 
 which, as we are to travel together some days on one, I 
 wish you to understand: it is that the cabins are all 
 above the main deck, raised on double rows of columns 
 high above all the freight, and all the "disagreeables" 
 of those parts of the boat where the hands and the emi- 
 grants stay. 
 
 There are properly on this upper deck three distinct 
 cabins, all on the same floor, opening one into the other 
 by folding doors; the forward one, "the Social Hall," 
 or smoking cabin, where the card-playing, wine-drink- 
 ing, and politics, go on. The next is the main cabin, 
 used as a drawing-room and dining-room ; and the third 
 is the Ladies' cabin. In the day time, these three cabins 
 are thrown into one, by rolling back the broad leaves of 
 the suits of doors, and the eoup d' ceil from one end to 
 
THE SOUTIIERNETl AT HOME. 239 
 
 the other is very fine ; and so distant is the view, that 
 one can hardly recognize an acquaintance who is at the 
 remote extremity. 
 
 The interior of our cabin is painted white, enamelled, 
 and polished as marble. The sides are ornamented by 
 rows of pilasters with gilded capitals, between every two 
 of which is a richly ornamented door, leading into a 
 state-room. Every state-room has a door, not only from 
 the cabin into it, but a door that opens out upon the 
 broad verandah, or guard, that environs the boat. This 
 arrangement is very convenient, both for comfort and in 
 case of • danger. At evening it was pleasant, as one 
 walked up and down the long verandah, to see the occu- 
 pants of the state-rooms sitting in their doors, conversing 
 or looking at the scenery, like dwellers on a fashionable 
 street. 
 
 Besides this extensive walk, there are stairs that give 
 access to the "hurricane deck," which is the roof of the 
 whole boat, and as it is but very slightly convex, and 
 wholly unobstructed by freight, and covered with a 
 water-proof composition, which is sanded, it forms one 
 of the most desirable and charming twilight promenades 
 one can well imagine ; and what is more, a promenade in 
 full motion, and under weigh, passing every moment new 
 features in the landscape. 
 
 You will thus perceive that, so far as accommodations 
 and comforts, to say nothing of luxury, is concerned, 
 one of these first class Western steamers afibrds the 
 very perfection of interior voyaging. I have not yet 
 spoken of our state-rooms, which were not so much state- 
 rooms as superb apartments with broad-curtained beds, 
 
240 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR 
 
 and marble and mahogany furniture, and as complete as 
 rooms in a "first rate" hotel. 
 
 It was on board this floating palace that our party 
 took passage for New Orleans, usually a six or seven 
 days' voyage, the distance being about fifteen hundred 
 miles. It was late in the day when the last passenger, 
 the last bell, the last clerk, and the last plank, came on 
 board, and the dashing of the monster wheels, as they 
 revolved in starting, took the place of the muttering 
 thunder of the suppressed steam, and the signal tolling 
 of the heavy bell, which for an hour had risen above, yet 
 mingling with all the other sounds and uproars of the 
 quay. We are now fairly under weigh, and I bid you 
 "good night." 
 
 Respectfully, yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 241 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 Steamer "America," Ohio River. 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 This is our third day en voyage. How delightful 
 this mode - of traveling, surrounded by all the enchant- 
 ments of an elegant home, as we are in this floating pal- 
 ace! The manner in which we pass our time is more 
 like that of so many guests in a nobleman's villa, could 
 you imagine one floating down the Belle Riviere^ as the 
 French missionaries, who first launched their light canoes 
 upon its tide, picturesquely designated the Ohio. But I 
 have learned the true Indian name for the river, which 
 is far prettier than that given by the good father Hen- 
 nepin. It is Ohi-o-lee-pee-chinn, or, put together, Ohio- 
 lepechin. It sounds sweetly and musically, and it means 
 exactly what the French name does, "River of Beauty." 
 
 Not far above us is the celebrated Pirate's Cave on 
 the bank, its dark mouth half-concealed by over-hanging 
 trees. It is a romantic spot, and with the adjacent 
 scenery of clifi", woodland, and river, would form a pic- 
 ture, if justice were done it, striking enough to hold no 
 mean rank in the galleries of your Art Union, that enor- 
 mous Beaux Arts Lottery. 
 
 This cavern had in former times a very naughty repu- 
 tation. Some romantic fellow, with a score of reckless 
 followers, held possession of it for many months before 
 16 
 
242 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 the introduction of steamers on the river, and levied black 
 mail on all the descending and ascending trading boats. 
 Many a tale of hard contests between the parties is told 
 in the vicinity, and some of these legends are sufficiently 
 stirring and wild, to have captivated even the magical 
 pen of Cooper. 
 
 The shores of the river are varied as we descend from 
 the Cumberland, by rock and woodland, and many a 
 lonely nook where one would love to dwell in some sweet 
 cottage was presented to the eye as we steamed past. 
 Towards noon we approached the mouth of the Ohio. 
 The river now widened and expanded its bosom every 
 league, as if it would give the Father of Waters, as it 
 neared him, a false idea of its greatness, as small men 
 always stretch up and stand on tip-toe when they talk 
 with a tall man. 
 
 "You've never sailed down this river afore, Miss, I 
 guess," said, respectfully, an elderly man, with long, 
 gray hair floating over the shaggy collar of his coarse, 
 blue overcoat, who was standing near me on the upper 
 deck, as I was gazing upon the shores, and straining my 
 vision to behold the distant Mississippi. 
 
 " This is the first time, sir," I answered. 
 
 " So I thought the way you look at every thing. Miss,'* 
 he answered. " I have been up and down too often to 
 find any thing new in the 'Hio, or Massissippi either, 
 for that matter. The first time I was on this river was 
 in eighteen hundred and three." 
 
 " So long ago !" I repeated. " This was before the 
 time of steamboats." 
 
 " Lor' bless you. Miss, steamboats wasn't then thought 
 on. We used to go in them days in keelboats and flats ; 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 243 
 
 and a pesky long voyage it was to Orleens then, and as 
 for coming up, I've done in six days in a steamboat what 
 thirty years agone it took me six months to do ; that is, 
 come up from Orleens to Louisville. Steam is a mighty 
 'vention, marm, but it blows up a mighty sight o' people !" 
 
 Here the old pilot, for such he was, took a flat cake 
 of tobacco from his pocket, wrapped up in a dingy piece 
 of oil-cloth, *' to keep the strength in," as he said, tore a 
 flake of it ofi" with his thumb and forefinger with a skill- 
 ful but indescribable movement of the hand, thrust it 
 into his jaws, and deliberately returned the cake to his 
 huge pocket. 
 
 "It must have been safe and pleasant voyaging in 
 those days," I remarked. 
 
 "Yes, Miss, it was tol'rable. But it was mighty 
 slow. Then we had our dangers to run. Thar was the 
 snags, agen which our boat would sometimes run and 
 get turned over or sunk ; there was the bars we'd get 
 onto, and lay there till the boat rotted ; there was the 
 wild Indians, as sometimes used to shoot us ofi" when we 
 ran too near the shore, and then down in the low coun- 
 try there was them Spanish and French desperattys, as 
 used to dart out of the creeks and bayous, twenty black- 
 lookin' chaps in a long snakish-looking boat, all armed, 
 and attack us and rob us if we didn't fight hard to save 
 our plunder. Then a'ter a three months' voyage down, 
 we'd be took with the yaller fever in Orleens an' die, or 
 we'd lose all our money a gamblin', for we boatmen them 
 days played cards dreadful bad, and lost a mint o' mo- 
 ney in Orleens." 
 
 " You must prefer steamboating, then, to this old way 
 of trading," I said. 
 
244 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 '' Wall, I don't know 'bout that, Miss ! I like both 
 on 'em, but if had mj choice I'd rather keclboat it. 
 Old times, to my notion, is the best times. I don't see 
 as men or the world is any better for steamboats, and 
 railroads, and the telegraphy, and such things. One 
 thing I know, it's a mighty deal wickeder world than 
 wdien I was a boy !" 
 
 Here we passed a few houses forming a hamlet, and 
 landing, on the right bank. Upon asking my communi- 
 cative friend what place it was, he answered : 
 
 " That, marm, is Trinity, six miles from the mouth. 
 Do you see that tall sycamore, the tree with the bark 
 white as your handkerchief eenamost, that stands just 
 under that bank?" 
 
 ^' Yes ; it is a very large and noble monarch of the 
 forest," I answered, as I gazed upon one of the most 
 magnificent trees I have ever seen, beneath the shade 
 of which a regiment might have reposed. 
 
 " I don't know about monarchs. Miss ! This is a free 
 country, and we don't 'How even our trees to have kings. 
 There is a grave beneath that tree !" he added, impres- 
 sively. " You can't see it, nor I nuther, for it's all 
 smoothed and over-growed long ago ; but right under it 
 lies buried a young woman, wdiich I never see that tree 
 without thinking of her, and wonderin' who she was. 
 She was not more nor twenty, but she had seen sorrow 
 and trouble enough for a lifetime. We took her on 
 board forty years ago it will be next month, at Louis- 
 ville. She was dressed as a young lad, but none of us 
 guessed she was a w^oman. She spoke broken English, 
 said she wanted to work her way to Orleens. So we 
 put her to cookin'. She was so gentle and kind-spoken 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 245 
 
 we all liked him, I mean her. But one morning when 
 the day broke, just as we were floating down about here, 
 we found her lying dead on the front part of the boat, 
 with a dagger buried in her heart. It was a small dag- 
 ger, with a silver hilt, sich as I had seen in Orleens 
 among them pesky Spaniards. We didn't know who did 
 it. But we buried her there. I dug the grave myself. 
 There was foul play somewhere. One of our people 
 said he had heard something swimming about the boat 
 in the dark, but supposed it was a deer crossing the 
 river, as they often did in them days, and there was 
 prints of a man's wet feet upon the boards of the deck, 
 and I always believed some enemy had followed her 
 down the river, and swum off and murdered her. But 
 it's always been a mystery to me ; but no doubt it'll all 
 turn up, marm, at judgment-day !" 
 
 Here the boat rounded to for the purpose of taking on 
 board some passengers, and the pilot left me; but I stood 
 and gazed long and silently and sadly upon the green 
 grave of the beautiful stranger, whose secret, as the pilot 
 had said, was locked up with God. It was a quiet, 
 shaded spot. A wild grape vine had festooned itself 
 above the grassy bed of the wanderer, and a few wild 
 flowers grew upon it. Ah! indeed, how many secrets 
 will the judgment day reveal ! 
 
 How profoundly the unknown slept ! The hoarse roar 
 of the escaping steam, the shouts of the voices of the 
 crew, the oaths of the mate, the dashing of the huge 
 wheels into the water, the hurry, bustle, and confusion — 
 how they all contrasted with the unbroken stillness of that 
 green spot, which death had made sacred ! As our boat 
 resumed her way, I lingered with my eyes upon the 
 
246 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 grave, above which, perched upon the grape vine, a robin 
 had alighted and was singing. Sweet suiferer of a former 
 day ! Though forty years have passed, thou art not for- 
 gotten ! Thy memory, cherished in the rough bosom of 
 the old pilot, shall live in many hearts to whom my feeble 
 pen shall relate thy brief, sad history. Many a loving 
 heart and sympathizing bosom shall feel and beat in 
 kindly sympathy for thee, as thou reposest in thy lonely 
 grave beside the murmuring tide of the River of Beauty. 
 
 At this moment, while I was still gazing on the snowy- 
 armed sycamore, a fashionable young gentleman, who 
 had been made acquainted with us, approached me, and 
 said, with a glance of contempt towards the old pilot : 
 
 "What rude fellar was that. Miss Conyngham, that 
 presumed to address you without an introduction, as I 
 presume you had not the honor of his acquaintance? 
 You must pardon the ignorance of these Western men ! 
 They are quite beyond all forms of good society ! Didn't 
 he annoy you excessively?" 
 
 '' On the contrary, I was much interested in his con- 
 versation," I answered, with some point in my tones. 
 " He has ideas.'' 
 
 "Ah! ideas?" repeated the exquisite, who had sense 
 enough to comprehend what I wished him to appre- 
 hend, "you are inclined to be severe, Miss Conyngham. 
 But, Miss Isabel says you are a wit." 
 
 " Indeed ! You should be obliged to her for giving you 
 ,he information, for you know wits are very dangerous 
 people to some folks." 
 
 "Yes, I'm afraid of witty people," he answered, finger- 
 ing his glossy whiskers, and then smoothing the glossy 
 silk of his hat. "Do you know, Miss Conyngham, that 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 247 
 
 there is a new style of hat coming into fashion? The 
 brim is to be an inch wider than this— which is the latest 
 style, and it is to turn up slightly, just the least bit in 
 the world, all round, even in front! And the band is to 
 be full two inches wide. You see what an effect this 
 will produce ! This band is but an inch and a quarter. 
 And then the hat is to bell out full at the top I It strikes 
 me that it will be a superb affair. But more than all, it 
 is made of such material as to contract or expand to the 
 head of the wearer, fitting each bump perfectly, so as to 
 give no uneasiness; but, so far as that is concerned, I 
 never experienced any uneasiness from this: my head is 
 
 nicely balanced. Dr. Dr. what's his name? 
 
 —once passed his fingers over my head, and pronounced 
 it a model of equilibrium. If I have one bump, Miss, 
 more prominent than another, I conceive that it is — is 
 combativeness. Yes, I have a great belligerent pro- 
 pensity. But it is kept in check by an equal amount of 
 prudence; otherwise, I have no doubt, I should have 
 fought not one less than forty duels in my life! I see, 
 Miss, you are admiring my watch seal," (which the ex- 
 quisite was twirling and trying to make me notice). " It 
 is of California gold, solid ! So is the chain. Had it 
 made to order!— This massive ring, too, is—" 
 
 Here the old pilot returned, and said abruptly, without 
 taking any notice of the person talking to me, 
 
 "You see. Miss, that little clump of trees on that 
 knoll to the left?" and he pointed with his large, brown 
 
 hand. 
 
 The fop looked daggers at him ! But there was a calm 
 self-possession— a certain native dignity about the rough- 
 coated old pilot, that commanded his respect and over- 
 
248 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 awed his combativeness, or I don't know what horrid 
 scene might have ensued, unless the bump of "prudence" 
 should come in to counteract the predisposition to com- 
 bativeness. Prudence did its duty I The exquisite, 
 after trying to annihilate the old river Neptune with a 
 look which was lost on him, turned away with an equal 
 contempt in his equally-balanced mind both for me and 
 the pilot. 
 
 "Ill-bred ! Vulgar tastes !" I heard him mutter, as 
 he moved off, — terms of his indignation, which were 
 doubtless intended to be divided equally between my 
 friend in the shaggy pilot coat and myself. 
 
 The clump of trees were peculiar and marked by their 
 isolated position, standing in advance of the rest of the 
 shore, quite down into the water. 
 
 " I see them, sir!" I answered. 
 
 "There is a different story I could tell you about 
 them ;" he said, as if alluding mentally to what he had 
 narrated about the sycamore tree. 
 
 "I should like to hear it !" I replied. 
 
 " It ain't a long one. Few words and to the point," 
 he answered, as he pulled off a fresh flake of tobacco 
 from the diminished mass which he carried wrapped up in 
 the oilskin. " I saw three men shot by the shortest of 
 them trees ; under that ere limb that hangs partly over 
 the water." 
 
 "Shot !" I repeated, with horror. 
 
 "Nothing less. Miss ; it was during the war with the 
 English. Some troops were going to New Orleans to 
 help Jackson, and three of 'em deserted and were caught, 
 tried, and shot there, all in one hour, by Col. Mead, the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 249 
 
 officer who commanded the fleet of boats. They were 
 buried under that red bank thar ! One of 'em was a 
 mere lad ! He prayed for his widowed mother, that the 
 Great God above would give her strength to bear the 
 news, and then, while the tears shone on his cheeks, he 
 bared his white breast to the guns, and the next moment, 
 six bullets were tearing up the tender flesh and crashing 
 into his body. He fell dead ! But one of the others 
 leaped his height into the air with a fearful oath, and 
 then ran for the river to jump in : but he fell dead on 
 the grass. Ah, Miss, still and quiet as that pretty little 
 clump of trees looks now, with the birds a singing in it, 
 it has witnessed scenes you'd hardly have guessed if you 
 hadn't been told. Jist so it is, marm, with human natur. 
 You see a man walking quiet-like, and with a steady lip 
 and eye among his fellows ; but if he should tell you what 
 he had gone through in his day, you would see that, 
 though thpre are pleasant groves like in his heart, and 
 the birds sing in them, scenes have passed there that 
 would make us sad if they were told us. 
 
 '' But, Miss, here we are close at the mouth of the 
 Ohio, and in a few minutes will be in the Mississippi. 
 If you'd like to get a better look of the grand sight of 
 the meetin' of the two greatest rivers in America, you'd 
 better go forward, and up into the pilot house, for it is 
 the highest part of the boat, and you can see wider and 
 farther." 
 
 I thanked my new friend, and sending for Isabel and 
 the colonel, I was escorted by the hardy old river man, 
 with a politeness that exquisites might imitate, to the 
 elevated throne, standing upon whicJi the helmsman go- 
 
250 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 verns the movements and directs the course of our mighty 
 steamer. 
 
 In my next, I shall endeavor to give you my impres- 
 sions of " The Meeting of the Waters." 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 251 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 How shall I describe to you the profound impression of 
 bublimity, so that you may have some adequate conception 
 of it, which the sight of the "meeting of the waters" had 
 upon me yesterday ? To see the union of the Missis- 
 sippi and Ohio is worth a voyage thus far. It is one of 
 the sublimest spectacles a traveler chances to meet with. 
 
 Everything was propitious to present to our view the 
 junction in all its grandest features. Both rivers were 
 of equal height : the Mississippi dark and turbid, the 
 Ohio clear and of a green tint. As our steamer entered 
 upon the last mile of the Ohio, I could see with a glass, 
 with which my good friend, the pilot, provided me, the 
 line which marked the boundary between the two 
 waters. As we drew nearer and nearer, and at length 
 passed out from between the arms of the Ohio into the 
 bosom of the Father of Waters, I was surprised and de- 
 lighted to find that we still were borne on the tide of the 
 former, although fairly within the shores of the latter. 
 
 For nearly two miles after we had entered the Missis- 
 sippi, we kept in the green waters of the Belle Riviere, 
 which, pushing and compressing the murky flood of the 
 other to half its breadth, contested the right of way to 
 the mile-broad channel with it. The line between the 
 waters that flowed from the Alleghanies and those which 
 
252 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 had come from the Rocky Mountains was distinctly pre- 
 served for a long distance by their different hues ; and 
 in order to gratify Isabel, the helmsman, at one time, 
 steered so that we sailed directly on the line of demarka- 
 tion — the green tinted waves of the Ohio being on our 
 left, and the muddy, brown waves of the Mississippi being 
 on the right — the keel of our steamer dividing them 
 equally. 
 
 But after we had descended about two miles, the supe- 
 rior strength of the Mississippi began to show itself. 
 The old Father of Rivers, as if he had merely out of 
 courtesy suffered the Belle Ohio to occupy his channel 
 for a little while, now began to assert his claims to the 
 whole breadth between the banks. Here and there the 
 turbid under current would force itself up to the surface 
 of the waters of the Ohio, and exhibit everywhere great 
 circular patches of floating mud. These soon flowed to- 
 gether and commingled ; and at length the green current 
 of the Belle Riviere became all muddy and turbid, lost its 
 individuality, and was absorbed in the mighty rolling 
 flood, whose domain it fain would have held in copart- 
 nership. It was full a league below the mouth before 
 the union was so complete that we lost the last trace of 
 the peculiar tint of the lesser and clearer stream. It 
 was wonderful to see how completely one vast river had 
 been swallowed up by another; and yet neither had the 
 huge gormandizer grown larger, widened his banks, or 
 deepcTied his channels ; and so this mammoth of rivers 
 goes on to the sea, a thousand miles southward, taking 
 in a score of rivers at a yawn, and never showing signs 
 of his voraciousness ! 
 
 "Now, Miss," said the old pilot, who seemed greatly 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 253 
 
 to enjoy my admiration of the spectacle, "now we are 
 fairly on the Mississippi ! You'll find it a wild water, 
 marm; and the shores al'ays keep the same as you see 
 'em now, — forests, and notJiing else. Five hundred 
 miles farther down you'll see no difference. A picture 
 of the river taken here, and one after we 've sailed on 
 it three days more, will look both exactly alike ; it would 
 take a man pretty well used to the river, if he was taken 
 up from one place, and put in another a hundred miles 
 farther down, to know he'd changed places." 
 
 The sun set with a splendor that I have never before 
 beheld. The river at the time was flowing west for full 
 five miles in a straight line, and the wdiole distance, 
 illumined redly by the sun at the end of the vista, shone 
 like a burnished lake of gold; while the black forests on 
 either shore formed a fine frame to the whole. These 
 ^'reaches" and bends of the river, which it forms every 
 few leagues as it flows now west, now east, now doubling 
 back northwardly, gives the Mississippi the character of 
 a chain of lakes, each from three to seven miles long, 
 and always the unvarying breadth of about four thou- 
 sand feet. 
 
 There is something terrific, as well as majestic in this 
 vast moving flood. Its surface is never quiet. Repose 
 it knows not. It is agitated by myriads of whirlpools, 
 and here and there rushes along without any apparent 
 cause, with additional velocity, and a roar like rapids ; 
 yet there are nothing like rocks in its bed, and its depth 
 is fearful everywhere. I had heard that a person falling 
 into it, would never rise again. I therefore questioned 
 my friend the pilot upon this interesting point. 
 
 ''They do say so, Miss," politely answered a hale old 
 
254 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 man who was ^steering, and removing liis quid from his 
 mouth out of respect to me, and thrusting it for safe 
 keeping into the cuff of his drab jacket, the stained look 
 of which showed that it was an ordinary reception place 
 for such things; ^'but it an't al'ays true, 'cept in high 
 top floods. Then I'd be sorry to fall overboard. Most 
 usual there is an under current as sucks a man right 
 down, and before he can battle agen it and get up to the 
 top, its all over with him. Besides, the water is al'ays 
 so muddy, it chokes up a man 'mazin' quick. But in. 
 low water, w^hy a man can swim tolerable fair in this 
 river; but its better to keep on board if he can, and not 
 tempt it ; for old Massassap is a mighty ugly customer to 
 trust oneself to, at any time, — 'mazin' treacherous and 
 oncertain !" 
 
 Although the evening shades fell, and the supper bell 
 rung, I could not leave the deck. The western sky was 
 a paradise of glory, a heaven tinted with every hue of 
 beauty. Amid a clear space of pure green^ the evening 
 star hung like an amethyst set in emerald. The waters 
 shone like living gold. The gloomy shores grew darker 
 and more mysterious. The stars came out overhead. 
 From our tw^o tall black chimneys rolled, billow on bil- 
 low, sable clouds of smoke mixed with sparks, which, as 
 they covered the skies over us, gave one an idea of the 
 heavens on fire, and the stars loosened from their spheres. 
 The regular boom of the breathing engine echoing from 
 shore to shore, the dash of the monstrous w^heels creating 
 a continual foaming cataract, w^hich, mingling astern, 
 formed a mad wake of whirlpools — the onward, life-like, 
 ever-pressing-forward motion of the swift steamer, which 
 carried me with two hundred other souls through all this 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 255 
 
 scene of novel beauty and strange grandeur, bound me 
 to the deck, and forbade my thoughts and soul turning 
 to anything else. 
 
 At length night, in all the glittering glory of her 
 starry beauty, reigned. Leaning upon the arm of the 
 colonel, while Isabel hung upon the other, I walked the 
 upper deck till a late hour. Showers of sparks were 
 sailing away in the air every moment, and some of them, 
 keeping their brightness longer than others, we loved to 
 imagine shooting stars, which they closely resembled. 
 Many would descend in graceful curves to the surface of 
 the river far astern, and, lighting upon it, be at once 
 extinofuished. Others would ascend and move in a 
 spiral path higher and higher, as if they fain would scale 
 heaven, and take their place among the fixed stars, 
 which looked no bigger than they. We also amused 
 ourselves in watching the w^oodmen's lights on the shore 
 — large fires built at the points where wood for steam- 
 ers was to be found. These signal fires, which were 
 visible on both sides from a mile to a league apart, 
 had a fine effect upon the imagination. It seemed as if 
 our midnight way was voluntarily lighted by some kind 
 beings of the main who wished us "good luck" on our 
 voyage, and desired that w^e should prosecute it in safety. 
 The pilot related to the colonel a very remarkable use 
 which he once made of these lights on the shore. 
 
 "We were coming up from Orleans in a thick fog," 
 said he. "The night was dark as pitch. We could not 
 land in safety, as it blew hard. Our only chance was to 
 keep in the middle of the stream and run for it. These 
 woodmen at that time did not light their signal fires till 
 they heard a boat ring her bell, as a token that it wanted 
 
256 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 wood. You would then see a score of fires kindled along 
 a stretcli of four miles or so. We could discern no fires 
 to guide us, or tell us where either shore was ; so I rang 
 the bell as a signal for wooding. The next minute a fire 
 blazed up through the fog on the left bank, quarter of a 
 mile ahead; and a half a mile above upon the other shore, 
 shone another like a star in the dog-days. By these we 
 were enabled to steer; and every quarter of an hour I 
 tolled my bell, as I ascended the river, and fire after fire 
 would blaze up, one on this shore, one on that. In this 
 w^ay we ran all night, full a hundred miles, lighted by 
 these signal fires, which we made these poor fellows 
 kindle, supposing we were coming in to take in wood ; 
 but the rogues ought to have done us this service, as they 
 live and get rich by steamboats." 
 
 It was late when we left the deck to return to oar 
 state-rooms. During the night I was awakened by the 
 noise of a steamer passing us. Looking from my state- 
 room door, I saw its red-mouthed furnaces glare through 
 the gloom, lighting up half the river's breadth, the dark 
 figures of the firemen looking like so many demons as 
 they cast the fuel into them. It was a magnificent sight, 
 and a fearful one, to see the huge, roaring, dashing, 
 booming, thundering monster go past, with noise enough 
 to awake the Seven Sleepers, while the shores and the 
 sides of our vessel re-echoed and redoubled the sublime 
 uproar. The next moment she was past, and darkness 
 and a rocking motion succeeded. I observed at the bow 
 of the boat two fiery red lanterns, elevated on high, 
 which serve as guides to the pilot, and to show the posi- 
 sition of the boat to other pilots in the night. Our boat 
 has a blue and a crimson one. Unaccustomed to the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 257 
 
 motion and working of the machinery, it was long past 
 midnight ere I was able to fall to sleep. 
 
 This morning we found ourselves at New Madrid, once 
 the capital of the Spanish empire of the West, but now 
 a hamlet of a few houses. The place has been destroyed 
 by an earthquake, and what remains of it is falling into 
 the river by detachments. Street after street has broken 
 off and gone, until but one remains. The whole country 
 is deeply fissured by the shocks which occur every few 
 wrecks. We learn that ten days ago there was so severe 
 a one that an acre of the front of the tovv-n fell into the 
 river, and chairs and tables in houses were throYv'n down. 
 Such, however, is the force of habit, and "getting ac- 
 customed to shaking," as the man said vrho had the ague 
 twenty-four years, that the citizens do not mind these 
 shocks; but take them as they come, as they do the 
 storms and wind, and the other ordinary phenomena of 
 nature. 
 
 We had a very amusing scene occur this morning, just 
 before day! There is a young bear on board, belonging 
 to a Missourian, who is taking him down to Arkansas, to 
 his sweetheart, he told me. The "exquisite" had evinced 
 some apprehension about him, and expressed it to me 
 more than ence, that he feared he might "get loose and 
 perpetrate some mischief." 
 
 Well, sure enough, at daylight this morning, the wdiole 
 cabin was aroused by such an uproar and screaming as 
 3^ou never heard! "The bear! the bear! the bear is in 
 my state-room!" was shrieked in tones of mortal horror. 
 
 Upon flying to the scene of terror and to the rescue, it 
 proved to be, that a gentleman, who from a paralytic 
 stroke has not for several years been able to speak, was 
 1-^ 
 
258 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 now on his way to the Hot Springs to endeavor to effect 
 a cure. But there are times when, if he attempts to 
 laugh he sends forth the most appalling spasmodic sounds, 
 between a yell and a howl, with a sprinkling of awful groans, 
 all mixed up together in one, — sounds unearthly and 
 terrific, and therefore enough to alarm anybody of stout 
 nerves. This poor gentleman was put into the lower 
 berth of the state-room, which my exquisite occupied. 
 Towards morning, the paralytic being awake, heard his 
 neighbor in the next state-room, in stepping out of bed, 
 put his foot into his wash-pitcher, and at the accident 
 swear so oddly that it excited his risibles to an un- 
 governable extent. The result was a laugh that was a 
 compound of the roar of a bear, the howl of a wolf, and 
 the yell of a hyena, which, the more he tried to suppress 
 it, the worse it became. The young fop was positive 
 the bear had got into his room, and calling on him, in 
 his best vernacular, to prepare to be eaten up. 
 
 When the facts became known there was a good hearty 
 laugh at the young man's expense, but the paralytic 
 gentleman being, as the colonel observed, maliciously 
 tempted by the enemy of our race to join in it, produced 
 a second and improved edition of his vocal performances, 
 that filled all who heard him with consternation. 
 
 To morrow, we expect to be at Memphis. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 259 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 Suburbs of Natchez. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 We have at length reached Natchez, and I write 
 once more from a plantation, but one situated in Mis- 
 sissippi instead of Tennessee, and in the bosom of the 
 most opulent and cultivated portion of the South. I have 
 already spoken of the town of Natchez, which possesses 
 all the charming features of a tropical city. Its streets 
 lined with the Pride of China tree, now in full flower, its 
 verandah-ornamented residences, with their wide, airy 
 halls and piazzas; the sweet gardens that fill all the 
 atmosphere, even in the business streets, with the per- 
 fume of flowers; the quiet repose and comfort of the 
 wdiole place ; the indolent luxury of the nothing-to-do air 
 of the citizens, who like all Southerners, never hustle 
 about ; the half foreign air descended to it from the old 
 Spaniards, who first dwelt here, give to Natchez a tout 
 ensemble^ wholly diff'erent from a Northern town. 
 
 Then there are the handsome suburban villas embedded 
 amid flower gardens, their white columns glancing here 
 and there, from openings in the foliage of the umbrageous 
 trees that shade them. 
 
 Many of the more wealthy cotton planters, whose 
 estates lie on the river where it is unhealthy to reside, 
 live in the vicinity of Natchez, in country houses, on 
 
260 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 ■which they lavish taste and expense without limit. There 
 is, therefore, a beautiful wilderness of architectural and 
 horticultural elegance around the city. The pleasant 
 drives carry you winding along among these tasteful 
 homes now rolling over a graveled lawn-road, now tra- 
 versing hedges enclosing gardens that contain nearly all 
 the tropical plants; now catching sight of a summer- 
 house, now of statuary, and on all sides beauty. 
 
 It is in these homes, which extend a league or more 
 around the town, that are to be found the families that 
 have given to tiie society of Natchez so much celebrity. 
 Here are to be found persons who have traveled abroad, 
 and cultivated their tastes by European discipline. Their 
 parlors are adorned with pictures from pencils of the first 
 masters. Their halls are not deficient in fine statuary. 
 Their private libraries are often large and well chosen. 
 The furniture, equipages, and style of living are all in 
 keeping. 
 
 In Natchez itself there are but few wealthy persons ; 
 but the society is exceedingly good, and every stranger, 
 who has enjoyed its hospitality, will have a grateful re- 
 collection of their tasteful and pleasant homes. 
 
 Natchez is the diocesan residence of Bishop Green, 
 the Bishop of Mississippi, and also of Bishop Chance, the 
 Roman Catholic Prelate. The Cathedral is a noble 
 building, in the Gothic style of architecture, and its tall 
 white spire can be seen for many miles around. Although 
 I am more than two leagues distant from it, I have it in 
 sight, visible over a rich undulating country, with here 
 and there the chimneys of a villa rising above the sea of 
 foliage. The Episcopal Church in Natchez is said to 
 have the most opulent parish in the South-western 
 
THE SOUTIIEHXER AT HOME. 261 
 
 country, wliich is doubtless the case. The "Roman 
 Catholics are not numerous here, yet they have a Female 
 Boarding-school or Nunnery, under the charge of jMad'Ue 
 Marcellus, a lady formerly from Baltimore, and who, in 
 her infancy, with her mother, was one of the fevf who 
 escaped the massacre of St. Domingo, This school is 
 supported mainly by Protestant pupils, w^ho in almost 
 every instance leave the school with a decided bias 
 towards the Roman Church, if not actually Romanists. 
 
 The appearance of the country from the plantation 
 where I am now sojourning for a few da.ys, is very beau- 
 tiful, diversified as it is to the eye with woodlands, broad 
 cotton fields, and country seats in the centre of sur- 
 rounding estates. The magnolia is here the pride and 
 glory of all trees. Within sight is a ridge that is thickly 
 forested with them, and such a spectacle of green mag- 
 nificence I have never beheld. "When the sun at a 
 certain angle glances upon the polished surface of the 
 large leaves, every tree seems as if encased in emerald 
 armor. Then the grand, huge flowers, that glitter here 
 and there amid the masses of foliage like large silver 
 stars, fill all the air around with their fragrance. Some 
 of these trees rise to the height of ninety feet — tall, 
 proud cones of beauty that seem to be conscious of their 
 elegance. 
 
 The Southern ladies are all natural gardeners. The 
 taste with which they lay out and arrange their par- 
 terres would delight and surprise a Northern eye. The 
 garden of this house where we are now visiting, though 
 by no means regarded as the finest in this vicinity, I 
 will describe, and it will give you some idea of others 
 
262 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 here. Eut first let me describe our drive hither from 
 town. 
 
 After we had driven half an hour amid the most luxu- 
 riant hedge rows, which extended miles further, we came 
 to a white gateway, set in the hedge. It was the en- 
 trance to the estate. Passing through it, we rode a 
 quarter of a mile beneath the majestic branches of a fine 
 old forest, and then emerged into an open road, which 
 was bounded on both sides by cotton fields, in which 
 gangs of slaves in their white and blue cotton dresses 
 were at work, under the eye of a mounted overseer. 
 
 The villa, or "great house," was visible half a mile ofi", 
 fairly embowered in an island of the deepest verdure, for 
 an island it seemed, surrounded by the ploughed, brown 
 fields of the plantation. As w^e advanced, we could catch 
 sight of a column between the trees, then of a w^ing, and 
 get a glimpse of the portico. At length, after two or 
 three times losing sight of it as we wound round the 
 undulations of the fields, we emerged full in front of its 
 handsome arched gateway. The enclosure was many 
 acres, entirely shut in by a hedge that was spangled with 
 snow white flowers. A slave opened the gate for our 
 carriage. We drove through, and found ourselves within 
 a horticultural paradise. The softest lawns, the loveliest 
 groups of trees of the richest leaf, the prettiest walks, 
 the brightest little lakes, with swans upon their bosoms, 
 the most romantic vistas, met our enraptured gaze. 
 Through this lovely place w^e drove over a smooth avenue, 
 at one time almost in complete darkness from the over- 
 arching limbs interlaced above ; at another rolling in sun- 
 light upon the open sward. 
 
 At length we drew near the mansion, which was an 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 263 
 
 Italian villa of tlie purest style, elevated so as to be 
 ascended by a broad flight of steps. There were im- 
 mense vases, three feet tall, standing in front, just where 
 the eye of taste would have them, containing West 
 Indian plants, Avith gorgeous leaves, and flowering splen- 
 didly, the names of which I do not know. The color of 
 the edifice was a shade under the lemon tint, which re- 
 lieved finely the foliage about it. In the centre Avere 
 broad folding doors, which were thrown open, and pre- 
 sented a prospect, through a noble central hall with a 
 polished oak floor, of the garden in the rear of the 
 house. Standing in the door of this hall, we could com- 
 mand the main avenue of the garden, which descended 
 in a succession of terraces to a small lake glittering at 
 the extremity. This lake lay in deep seclusion beneath 
 a grove of overhanging oaks and sycamores, of magnolia 
 trees, elms, and orange trees. The south piazza com- 
 manded the whole . garden, which was a labyrinth of 
 beauty and floral magnificence. Upon descending into 
 the garden, one passed through an avenue of tropical 
 plants, many of which I had never seen, nor could have 
 believed they ever existed, their loveliness and grandeur 
 were so novel and extraordinary. In some of the 
 flowers it seemed as if "the Angel of flowers" had tried 
 to see how beautiful a thing it could make. Such ex- 
 quisite forms and colors ! Ah me ! how beautiful, 
 thought I, as I gazed on them, must things in Heaven 
 be, if things, their shadows on earth, are so lovely I 
 
 Which way soever one turns her steps in wandering 
 through this magical garden, new and ever varied scenes 
 open upon the eye. If I should particularize, I would 
 
£64 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 but give you a catalogue and description of the plants. 
 A bed of violets, sixty feet square, as blue and brilliant 
 as a paved floor of turquoise, and fragrant as all Araby ; 
 bordering one side of a walk, a bank of verbenas, one 
 hundred feet in length and seven feet broad, composed 
 of every shade of the varied color of this flower, looked 
 like a mosaic aisle, surpassing description for its gorgeous 
 brilliancy. There were strange looking flowers, the 
 leaves of which appeared as if they had been cut out of 
 crimson silk velvet, while fringes of golden flowers seemed 
 to hang pendant from them. 
 
 In the winter months, the large galleries of the house 
 are shut in with glass casements, and the rarest flowers 
 removed from the garden thither ; so that one can look 
 from the parlor windows upon flowers, or, opening them, 
 promenade among them in a pleasant atmosphere ; for 
 these winter conservatories are kept at an equal tempera- 
 ture by furnaces beneath. 
 
 Many of the tropical plants require in this climate 
 this protection from the first of December to the first of 
 April ; tnough all the winter the gardens look green and 
 beautiful, so numerous are the plants that can remain 
 out. Our charming hostess told me she used formerly 
 to bring in the Agave Americana every winter, not 
 thinking it would live otherwise, till at length some of 
 them grew too large and heavy to be removed, even by 
 four men ; and she sorrowfully let them remain, supposing 
 the winter would kill them, when, lo, to her surprise, 
 they were not touched ; and many of the cacti that are 
 usually sheltered, will endure the winter abroad. I was 
 shown by her a night-blooming cereus, preserved in 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME.. 265 
 
 alcoliol, which she cut oiT in the height of its bloom. 
 This is probably one of tlic most delicate and beautiful 
 flowers created by the hand of Him who made this world 
 of beauty. It is the custom liere, vrhen a lady has one 
 of these plants on the eve of blooming, to send a servant 
 to all her friends on the surrounding estates, inviting 
 them to the spectacle. The gathering at such times is 
 a pleasant one. Carriages roll, and saddle horses come 
 galloping up the avenue, bearing youths and maidens, 
 and gray heads, and children ; and a merry frolic it is, 
 with a fine supper at the close, and an exciting gallopade 
 back a cheval by moonlight, or star-beams. 
 
 There is here a touching custom of having burying 
 grounds on the estates. Nearly all plantations have a 
 private cemetery. These places of buried affection, 
 where hope and faith wait the resurrection, are often 
 gems of funereal beauty. Some secluded but sweet 
 spot, not too remote from the mansion, is selected. It 
 is enclosed by a snow-white paling, or a massive wall of 
 brick ; ivy is taught to grow over it ; elms, willows, and 
 cypresses are planted within the inclosure. White mar- 
 ble tombs glisten among the foliage. Perhaps over all, 
 towers a group of ancient oaks, subduing the light be- 
 neath, and lending to the hallowed spot a mournful 
 shade, a soft twilight even in the sultry noontide's 
 glare. 
 
 Such is the family burial-place on this estate. Not 
 far from it, in a place scarcely less picturesque, is the 
 cemetery for the slaves, enclosed by a neat white-washed 
 wall. The affection of the poor Africans has planted the 
 rose and the lily, the violet and verbena, upon many 
 
266 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 of the graves. I was struck witli the inscription upon 
 a slab at the head of one of the green mounds of 
 earth : 
 
 "to the memory 
 
 OP 
 
 GOOD OLD PETER, 
 
 A FAITHFUL SERVANT, 
 
 AGED 97 YEAES, 
 " Well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 ERECTED BY HIS MASTER. 
 
 I learned that he had been in the family three genera- 
 tions, and that for the last thirty years of his life he had 
 been exempt from all duties, except such as he chose 
 voluntarily to perform. He had served faithfully the 
 father and grandfather of our present host, who had 
 raised this tribute to his memory. 
 
 "A faithful servant," mused I, as I fixed my gaze on 
 those three words. Who can ask for greater commenda- 
 tion? In his narrow and humble sphere he served faith- 
 fully, and has entered into his rest. Oh ! that I, also, 
 may have it inscribed upon my tomb, that I have been 
 "a faithful servant" in my sphere wherein my Maker 
 has placed me. It is praise enough for a king; for, 
 monarch or slave, we are all servants to "one Master, 
 who is in heaven." I left the grave of "good old 
 Peter ' with a healthy lesson impressed upon my heart. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Katharine Conyngham. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 267 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 This -s^^ill be the last letter I shall address you from 
 this state, as to-morrow we re-embark at Natehez on our 
 voyage to New Orleans. In this letter I shall touch upon 
 an interesting subject, suggested by a visit which we all 
 made yesterday to a neighboring estate to dine. It was 
 at the residence of one of the old families, whose Ameri- 
 can origin dates back to the Spanish times. Everything 
 was in the most unexceptionable style. But there was 
 one thing which I did not like, and will tell you frankly 
 what it was. I knew that in the family was a young lady of 
 great mental accomplishments and personal beauty, from 
 the North, who was a governess, or, as it is termed here, 
 *' teacher" in the family, and having known her in New 
 England, I was anticipating no little pleasure in meeting 
 her on this occasion. Not seeing her at dinner, upon 
 inquiring of the lady of the mansion for her, she an- 
 swered me that "she was in her study-room, and that 
 she never came to the table when guests were present. 
 She at such times takes her meals in her room." 
 
 Here then I found an educated gii'l of twenty, whose 
 grandfather has left a glorious name on the page of 
 American history, whose father has been a member of 
 Congress, treated as an inferior, placed on a level with 
 
268 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 a housekeeper, because left a destitute orphan, she chose 
 rather to teach than be dependent on relatives. 
 
 "I will send a servant for her if you wish to see her," 
 added the lady coldly. 
 
 "No," I said, '^I will see her in her room." 
 
 I was escorted by a servant across a noble hall hung 
 with fine pictures, and supported by corinthian columns, 
 to a wing of the villa. He knocked at a polished w^alnut 
 door. It was opened by my lovely friend, who, on re- 
 cognizing me, almost shrieked with joy, and clasped me 
 to her heart. The door was closed, and we were soon 
 engaged in conversation. Upon my expressing my re- 
 gret at the false position which she held there, she smiled, 
 (sadly, I thought,) and replied — 
 
 ''It is not altogether disagreeable, as I do not wish to 
 mingle in society where the ladies, however polite, would 
 regard me as not their full equal ; so I prefer dining in 
 my room: though to tell you the truth, I am never in- 
 vited at the dinner parties ; nor when invitations are sent 
 for the family am I included; and if I go, it is expected 
 I shall keep an eye on my two sweet little pupils. 
 Teaching here is by some families looked upon as be- 
 neath 'position,' as the phrase is. But I am content 
 to endure all this neglect for the emoluments, w^hich are 
 seven hundred dollars per annum, which enable me to 
 send four hundred dollars yearly to my mother, who has 
 need of all the aid I can render her. With the balance, 
 save what I absolutely require for my own use, I am 
 paying a debt left by my father. For these advantages 
 I am content to hold an apparently inferior position. I 
 have no pride, dear Kate. Reverses have made me 
 humble." Such is the true position, Mr. , of the 
 
THE SOUTIIERXEE AT IIOxME. 269 
 
 governess in the more fashionable Southern families. 
 But in some she is regarded as an equal. Usually she 
 holds a place midway between the lady of the mansion, 
 and the overseer's Avife. Too far above one to be her 
 companion, and too much beneath the other, she has an 
 isolated position, under which the spirits of the most 
 cheerful girl will by and by give way. Even her pupils 
 feel themselves her superiors. She can never marry here; 
 for the gentleman would not address "a teacher," and 
 with her education and refinement she can marry no one 
 beneath a gentleman. This line of distinction between 
 the governess and the mother of the young children she 
 teaches is more strongly defined in the older and more 
 aristocratic families. Indeed it is in some of them quite 
 as distinct as in the families of the nobility in England, 
 where, all readers of romance have learned, the gov- 
 erness never associates on terms of equality with the 
 family. But there are many families of planters who 
 do not live in so much style and exclusiveness, where a 
 teacher would feel at home, and be treated with affection 
 and respect; but she is the "teacher" still, in the eyes 
 of the neighborhood. A plain planter's family is the 
 best to teach in, let me say to such aspirants for places 
 as governesses as may read this letter. To be sure the 
 eclat of being in a very rich, stylish family, in a large, 
 superbly-furnished mansion, is a temptation that en- 
 snares the inexperienced; but let me tell such that, the 
 higher the fashion of the family, the lower will be the 
 station of the governess, and the more she will be made 
 to feel her position. Much, however, depends on the 
 young lady herself. True refinement will always find 
 
270 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 respect; while vulgarity or brusqueness of manner will 
 meet its level. 
 
 There are, however, in all pursuits and avocations 
 "disagreeables." No condition of industry is free from 
 them ; and this is one of the privations and disagreeables 
 those young ladies who seek situations in Southern 
 families must take with the situation. Teaching here is 
 looked upon as a trade, both in males and females. For 
 a Southern lady to teach as a governess, she loses caste 
 with many, though not, of course, with the sensible and 
 right minded. I know a lady with two grown daughters 
 who has a school not far from Yicksburg, who will not 
 let her daughters assist her in teaching, lest it should be 
 an obstacle in the way of their marrying en regie. This 
 woman understands the character of the people. Now 
 in New England, teaching is regarded directly the re- 
 verse. Our teachers there are a part of the " respect- 
 ability" of society. Our professors are aristocrats. 
 Some of our first ladies have been teachers when girls. 
 In a word, a New England mind can scarcely compre- 
 hend how teaching youth can be looked upon as a lower- 
 ing vocation. 
 
 The gentlemen who teach in the^ South as private 
 tutors, are placed exactly in the same position as the 
 governesses. I am told that a gentleman, who has since 
 left a brilliant name for genius behind him, was tutor for 
 two years in a distinguished private family near New 
 Orleans, and in all that time was never an invited guest 
 at any dinner party in the house. When the planter 
 has furnished him a room, a horse, and his meals, and 
 paid him his salary, all obligations are considered dis- 
 charged towards the "teacher." Professors in colleges 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 271 
 
 in the South are often called "teachers," and the wife 
 of a president is but the "teacher's wife." In a word, 
 no body is really aristocratic but the wealthy cotton- 
 planter. 
 
 The number of private tutors of both sexes throughout 
 the South is very great. The distance at which planters 
 dwell from towns renders it incumbent on them to employ 
 teachers at home. The situation is pleasant or unplea- 
 sant according to the family and the disposition of the 
 tutor. If he or she, for the sake of laying up something, 
 is willing to endure privation, and even "to lose position," 
 for a year or two, why these trifles can be borne. The 
 usual salary for a young lady is four hundred and fifty to 
 five and six hundred dollars with board. Some receive 
 more, especially as in the case of my fair friend, if music 
 and French be included. Latin is sometimes required, 
 but not often. In general, the planters keep their daugh- 
 ters under governesses till they are fourteen, and then 
 send them to some celebrated school. North or South, 
 to remain a year or two to graduate. The sons, also, 
 at eighteen, and often earlier, are dispatched to Northern 
 colleges. Few daughters "finish off" at home. Since 
 the recent agitation upon the slavery question, the Mis- 
 sissippians are disposed to be shy of Northern teachers, 
 and fewer will be emjjloyed. 
 
 In one county here, at a public meeting, resolutions 
 were passed that no teacher should be employed who was 
 not born South, or was not a Northern man with South- 
 ern principles. The good people of New England have 
 contributed to close an avenue to preferment, South, for 
 their educated sons and daughters, by their injudicious 
 
272 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 interposition between Southerners and tlieir institution.* 
 It will be difficult, indeed, to find Southern born young 
 ladies and gentlemen who will teach, and thus prevent 
 the necessity of depending on the North ; but there will 
 be, for a long time, a reluctance to employ New England 
 teachers ; and thousands, who w^ould have found employ- 
 ment on the ten thousand Southern plantations, will be 
 excluded. It will be one benefit to the South. Its youth 
 Avill prepare themselves to be teachers, and this despised 
 vocation will become honorable. 
 
 In my own case, I have not felt the sense of inferior- 
 ity attached to a governess. The family in which I have 
 so lono- dwelt at Overton Park have too much refine- 
 ment, education, and good sense to think any less of me 
 for being a teacher. Indeed, I am as agreeably situated 
 as if I w^ere an honored relative, and feel like a daughter 
 rather than a governess. If the situation of all who 
 teach in families was like mine, teaching would be the 
 most delightful occupation one could choose. 
 
 Great attention is paid here to the manly education 
 of boys. They are taught to ride fearlessly and sit a 
 horse well. The two sons of the gentleman, eleven and 
 thirteen years old, where we are now visiting, ride up to 
 Natchez three times a week, to take fencing lessons, box- 
 ing lessons, and lessons in dancing. They are also taught 
 pistol and rifle shooting. The eldest son, who has just 
 turned his nineteenth year, has displayed to me for my 
 amusement, some surprising exhibitions of his skill. With 
 a pistol, I saw him shoot three humble-bees on the wing, 
 at six paces distant. Ho will do this all day without 
 scarcely missing a shot. With a double-barreled shot-gun, 
 
 * Written in 1S53. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 273 
 
 I have seen him repeatedly, to-flay, liit two oranges 
 which he threw into the air together, firino: right and 
 left, and putting balls through both before they touched 
 the ground. He has an old gun which he calls " Sharp's 
 rifle," with which I saw him shoot and bring to the ground, 
 a vulture that was flying so high, it seemed no bigger 
 than a sparrow. I was admiring the plumage of a beau- 
 tiful red bird which was perched on the top of an oak, 
 when he sent in for his rifle, and before I could prevent 
 him he had taken its head off with a rifle ball and brought 
 it to me saying, quietly, " There it is — ^you see it is a car- 
 dinal." If he goes out shooting, he disdains to kill birds 
 at rest ; but first starts them up and assuredly brings 
 them down on the wing. This evening, he threw up two 
 quarter-of-a-dollar pieces, and hit them both in the air with 
 a double-barreled pistol. Yet this thorough-bred marks- 
 man is an intellectual, pale, oval-faced young man, with 
 long, flowing hair, a slight moustache, and the elegant, in- 
 dolent manners of a Chestnut street lounger. His eye is 
 quiet, and his demeanor gentle, and one would hardly sup- 
 pose, to look at his almost eSeminate form, that it would be 
 certain death to stand before him in a hostile rencontre. 
 It is this training which won for the immortal Mississippi 
 Rifles, in Mexico, their great celebrity ; when a corps of 
 three hundred of them checked the advance of six thou- 
 sand Mexican cavalry, and turned the tide of battle. 
 
 I have just seen an Indian chief. He came to the 
 house, bringing five wild turkeys which he had shot. He 
 is a Choctaw, and yet bears in his independent carriage 
 some traces of his former free and wild life. He was 
 grave in aspect, and said but little. His rifle was tied 
 upon the stock with thongs of deer's hide ; and had 
 18 
 
274 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 a rusty flint lock. He had a powder-horn and shot-bag 
 of deerskin slung at his side ; wore fringed leggings, moc- 
 casins, and a blue hunting shirt. His black, coarse hair 
 was bound by an old red sash. He seemed to listen with 
 deep attention to the piano, but no change of countenance 
 betrayed emotion. He was much taken with my young 
 friend's "Sharp's rifle," which he examined with great 
 care ; and then made him a sign to shoot with it. Two 
 hundred and fifty yards distant, a crow was perched 
 upon a dead limb. The young man leveled his gun : 
 the Indian watched the result eagerly, yet with a slight 
 smile of incredulity. The crow fell to the earth simul- 
 taneously with the report. The Indian clapped the rifle 
 on the barrel with a grunt of praise, and, taking the 
 marksman's hand, pressed it in token of fellowship in 
 hunter's skill. He fairly fell in love with the rifle, and 
 finally putting it down, walked away sadly towards the 
 forest where he had his camp. 
 
 I was then told by our host a very striking and touch- 
 ing incident associated with him. A chapel was about 
 to be erected on a neighboring estate. The walls were 
 commenced, but the work of the first day was pulled 
 down in the night by an unknown hand. They were 
 recommenced, and the same thing occurred thrice. This 
 chief confessed that it was his act. 
 
 " You have covered with your prayer-house the grave 
 of my wife !" was the abrupt and touching reason he 
 ffave. He was threatened if he interfered again. But 
 a fourth time the walls were destroyed, and, at length, 
 the sensibilities of the Indian were respected, and the 
 church erected a few feet farther south, when the devoted 
 husband gave no further molestations. What a subject 
 
THE SOUTHERXER AT HOME. 275 
 
 for a poem from the pen of Amelia, or some of our female 
 poetesses, or Prentice, or Park Benjamin ! 
 
 My next letter will be written en voyage on our way to 
 New Orleans, where we hope to be by the day after to- 
 morrow. Till then, adieu. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
276 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 It is with a certain misgiving and want of cardinal 
 faith in mail-bags, that I sit down to my purple, velvet- 
 topped writing-desk and take up my jeweled gold pen 
 (a New Year's gift from the colonel) to commence bur- 
 nishing up a "Needle" for you. One paper of six 
 shining needles, sharp as thorns — I mean the thorns 
 that guard rose-buds — I sent to you last May, nicely 
 sealed, and addressed to you in a plain, fair hand, that 
 could not be mistaken for any thing else. 
 
 I placed the package carefully in the hands of the 
 village post-master of the rural town near which I was 
 then visiting, in Mississippi. I was on horseback, and 
 riding up to the door with the parcel in my hand, I 
 placed it in his possession, saying, "Parson," (for he is 
 an ex-Methodist preacher, with gray locks, and a vene- 
 rable. General Jackson-like aspect, with his wiry hair 
 brushed hard back from his knotty forehead,) " my dear, 
 good parson," said I, in my most entreating tones, "I 
 entrust to you this little package, to go by mail to Phi- 
 ladelphia. I wish you would see that it is certainly 
 mailed." 
 
 " Yes, Miss, it shall go to-night. Is there any money 
 in it?" he asked, looking at its four corners, peering at 
 the seal, and balancing it on his two fingers, as if to test 
 its avoirdupois. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 277 
 
 '' They are needles," I said, smiling, " and they mustn't 
 get wet." 
 
 ^'Needles! Miss, then; I'm 'fraid its hardly mailable 
 matter," and he held the parcel more lightly in his grasp, 
 as if he were apprehensive of pricking his fingers, should 
 any of the sharp points penetrate the paper. 
 
 "Weigh it, sir, and charge postage accordingly: it 
 will be paid in Philadelphia," I answered; and receiving 
 a renewed promise from the snowy-headed old postmas- 
 ter, who is known by no other title or name than "Par- 
 son," in all the town, I rode away at full canter, to rejoin 
 Isabel and the handsome young planter, Edward, who 
 were slowly walking their horses along the green path 
 that wound by the brook which flowed past the village. 
 This package you received in due time, just as you 
 
 were on the eve of departure for Europe, Mr. , as 
 
 I learn from a letter, and after your departure it appears 
 to have vanished. Doubtless, in their humility, they 
 modestly withdrew themselves into some obscure corner 
 of your domicilium, to give way to the glittering silver 
 needles with which you were about to favor your readers 
 from the lands of the rising sun over the blue water. 
 This is the true secret of their invisibility, and I have 
 no doubt, that by a diligent search beneath the bundles 
 and packages of old MSS., which fill the corners and 
 crevices of your editorial room, the missing, modest, 
 retiring, eclipsed needles will be brought to light. 
 
 But, I fear, so long a burial in obscurity will have 
 lusted them and rendered them unfit for use; so, whe- 
 ther found or lost, they are to be regarded among the 
 things "that were." 
 
 Not seeing any of them make their appearance in your 
 
2T8 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 columns, which shone steadily with the lustre of your 
 own lively epistles, I came to the conclusion that they 
 liad been disgraced — had been quietly sent to that bourne 
 of all rejected communications — "the tomb of the Ca- 
 pulets." 
 
 "Requiescat in pace," I sighed, as I thought of the 
 parcel, and submissively bowed to your better judgment. 
 I heard of its loss in this way. A letter from your edi- 
 tor pro-tem, asking me for more letters, came acquaint- 
 ing me with the fact of the "mysterious disappearance" 
 of the six I had sent. Upon reading this, I remained a 
 moment quite stupefied. If a poor hen had seen a 
 wicked hawk at one swoop dart into the height of the 
 clouds with six of her little, golden-colored chickens in 
 his talons, and disappear with them forever from sight, 
 she could not have been more confounded than I was at 
 this intelligence of the disappearance of my six epistles. 
 At length a heavy sigh relieved my heart; and half a 
 dozen tears (one for each needle) fell pattering upon the 
 letter I was reading. I could not help weeping, I was 
 vexed, and angry, and grievously sorry. I thought of 
 all the thoughts which I had drawn from my heart, or 
 kindled at my brain, interwoven in their lines ! It was 
 as if they, like Noah's dove, had gone forth from the 
 ark of my mind, seeking rest in other hearts and minds, 
 (those of your dear readers, my many friends, for whom 
 I wrote them all in sweet, though unseen, communion 
 with them,) and were driven back, ruffled, wing-wounded, 
 to rest in my own soul again — the ark from which they 
 so hopefully went forth ! 
 
 None but an author can sympathize with me. None 
 but the author who writes — coining his heart as he writes 
 
THE vSOUTIIERNER AT HOME. 279 
 
 — who writes with all his intellectuality active — and with 
 large love for all those unknown ones, the good, and wise, 
 and beautiful, for whom he writes — and whom, as his 
 pen flows over the spotless page, he sees a noble and ap- 
 preciating audience assembled before him — none but an 
 author who writes thus can feel all I felt. To such 
 among your readers, those dear friends, whom having 
 not seen I love, I look for that sympathy which can only 
 atone for the loss of so much of myself, which I had 
 jDOured out from the full fountain of my being into theirs 
 — at least, which I believed I was pouring into theirs, 
 but which has only been poured out upon the earth and 
 air. 
 
 It is true, the lost MS. was but sixty pages of letter 
 paper; but it is not the abundance, but that it is ourself, 
 a part of ourself that is gone, that makes the loss. One 
 would grieve for a finger amputated, as well as for an 
 arm. Until now, I knew not the maternal love which 
 an authoress cherishes for her literary offspring. Per- 
 haps, if I am to be an author, it was best I should pass 
 through all an author's phases, and experience all an 
 author's experiences. I therefore made up my mind 
 patiently to endure the loss; but I felt like a blind 
 orator, who has been eloquently and touchingly address- 
 ing for an hour a large audience supposed to be before 
 him, when he is afterwards told that he had been cruelly 
 deceived, and had been pouring out his heart, soul, and 
 spirit to empty seats — to an unpeopled void ! 
 
 The end of a writer is the mind of the reader ; and 
 while writing, in imagination beholding his readers, 
 reading his thoughts and lines of fire and love, he has 
 his reward, though he never sees to his dying daT one 
 
280 THE SUNNY vSOUTIi; OR, 
 
 of them. But when he is told that his thoughts reached 
 no living mind, that they were addressed to a peopleless 
 void — by the destruction of his MS., before it reaches 
 the press, — he feels an aching void — a tumultuous back- 
 ward ebb into his soul of all that had gone forth, coming 
 like an overwhelming torrent, at first to prostrate with 
 despair; but not finally destroy his energies. If he pos- 
 sesses true genius, he will rally, and he will try once 
 more ; but he can never again put forth the same 
 thoughts. Their freshness is gone, their force lamed, 
 their beauty impaired by repetition. He will seek a 
 new field, and what is lost, is lost irrevocably. Such is 
 the nature of that sort of genius of which authors are 
 
 made, Mr. , and such is authorship in one of its 
 
 phases. 
 
 Well, I w^ent to work again, but I did not, oh, I could 
 not write over the same letters, and so I let them go, 
 and resumed where the last of the missing ones had 
 ended. The six lost, described our voyage down the 
 Cumberland from Nashville; adventures on the Ohio; 
 scenes and incidents upon the Mississippi; life on the 
 river ; habits of the boatmen ; wooding by torchlight ; a 
 tornado; a collision; a shipwrecked steamer; an earth- 
 quake; the city of Memphis; its population, habits, and 
 manners; the city of Vicksburg; the city of Natchez, 
 and many things too numerous to mention. Dear me! 
 what a loss ! And this is not all. Another package of 
 a new series is gone. 
 
 The seventh letter of the new series was dated at a 
 plantation near Natchez, where I was sojourning a few 
 weeks. It, and five more, described society in the coun- 
 try, in the town ; deer hunting, fox hunting ; a visit to 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT ]IOME. 281 
 
 an Indian village and temple ; a love scene ; a confession ; 
 a wounded cavalier; a journey to the prairie; an Indian 
 maid, and an adventure replete with romance. The 
 twelfth letter closed as we were in the prairies encamped, 
 and written while the gentlemen of our party were dress- 
 ing a deer for dinner. These letters were put into thfe 
 mail in two parcels at the next post-office. 
 
 The postmaster was a young man with a savage mus- 
 tache, a black, stiletto-like eye, and he kept his office in 
 a log-cabin that was half-grocery. He was terrifically 
 polite, and as he extended his hand to take the parcels, 
 he betrayed the butt of a bowie-knife in his gaping vest. 
 He said the stage would pass in a few minutes, and in- 
 deed, I saw it come up, a sort of dry-goods box on two 
 wheels, driven by a yellow-faced youth of seventeen, his 
 forehead and eyes buried in a monstrous buffalo-cap, as 
 large as a huzzar's, while his feet were bare, and over 
 his shoulders he wore a green blanket with a hole in the 
 centre, through which he had thrust his head. In this 
 box was a leathern mail-bag, into which I did see my 
 parcel safely deposited and locked up, the postmaster 
 with the mustache returning the key to his own pocket. 
 They were the only letters that went that day ; and now 
 
 after four months you have received neither, Mr. . 
 
 It is a shame, and enough to try the patience of any 
 body to be so peculiarly unfortunate. I suppose they 
 have added ere this fuel to the flames of the hecatomb 
 of wandering epistles that monthly blazes in the court- 
 yard of the General Post-office, at Washington. It is 
 said they save only letters with money I Ah, young 
 gentlemen, or you good gentlemen with gray hair, who 
 superintend this dreadful fire which destroys so much 
 
282 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 that sprung from immortal minds and loving Learts, if 
 you had known the value of my two parcels, which, 
 doubtless, passed through your hands, you would have 
 had mercy upon them ; I feel that you w ould have spared 
 
 them from the flames, and sent them safely to Mr. ; 
 
 and if this should be so unfortunate as to fall into your 
 power, grand Inquisitor of the Dread Inquisition of 
 Letters, called dead, yet being filled with thoughts, can 
 never die — spare, oh spare this, my poor epistle,* and 
 all others that come after it, and send it on its way re- 
 joicing, and, as in duty bound, I ever will pray for your 
 happiness, health, and peace forevermore. 
 
 Your humble petitioner, 
 
 Kate Conyngham. 
 
 * By a late law, the words " To be preserved," written around 
 the seal, insures the preservation of the letter at the Dead Let- 
 ter office. 
 
 r p o 
 
 The letters '' ' will secure the return to the writer of 
 
 all MSS., which are equal to money to author and publisher. 
 
 Editor. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 283 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 Chateau dk Clerv, La. 
 
 My last letter, dated from this beautiful villa, a 
 sugar estate, eleven miles above the city of New Orleans, 
 detailed to you my grief at the loss of the round dozen 
 *' Needles," and my reluctance to rewrite; indeed, my 
 inability to write them a second time. I, therefore, must 
 briefly state in this that the space covered by the twelve 
 letters was three months, and that the twelfth found me 
 on the prairies near the capital of Mississippi, traveling 
 in a sort of caravan-fashion with the colonel and a large 
 party, going to look at some Indian lands which they 
 had purchased. We soon returned to the hospital man- 
 sion near Natchez, where we had been a few weeks so- 
 journing, and the following week embarked for New 
 Orleans. From this embarkation I resume my letters, 
 aided by copious notes which I took while descending the 
 river. The city of Natchez has a romantic site, being 
 situated, like Quebec, upon an elevated table, which on 
 the verge of the river forms a perpendicular bluff of 
 nearly two hundred feet. Along the edge of this preci- 
 pice is a green mall, or promenade, with seats sociably 
 placed underneath the trees, upon which idlers can sit 
 enjoying the fresh breeze from the river, watching the 
 ascending and descending steamers that pass a score 
 
284 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 a-day, or looking at the horsemen cantering through the 
 level streets of the opposite village of Concordia. On 
 our way to the landing we stopped a few moments to 
 admire the wide view. It was grand and ocean-like, so 
 2)lane and illimitable is the level sea of foliage that 
 recedes westward to the even horizon. Four miles above 
 the city the mighty Father of Waters emerges from this 
 great valley of vast forests, and expands before us like 
 a lake, and flows sweeping past with the aspect of irre- 
 sistible power, and, five miles below, loses himself again 
 in the bosom of this cypress desert-sea. 
 
 Our boat was not yet in sight, but a tall column of 
 smoke, in form like that which went before Israel, was 
 pointed out to me, full twelve miles northwardly, rising 
 skyward from the level surface of the emerald ocean of 
 forest. The river itself and the steamer borne upon it, 
 were invisible, being hidden within the heart of the sa- 
 vannah; but we could trace the unseen course and tor- 
 tuous windings of the flood by the onward motion of the 
 column of smoke. At length, after watching it half an 
 hour above the trees, and seeing it come nearer, the 
 column, the steamer, and the river simultaneously shot 
 out from the embracing trees a league off. Oh ! it was 
 a grand sight to behold the noble steamer plough its 
 j)Owerful prow through the turbid flood, turning aside 
 like straws in its path, floating trees that w^ould h-ave 
 made masts for line-of-battle ships, while the rushing 
 of the waters cleaved by her bow, and torn up by her 
 wheels, mingling with the hoarse double-note of her two 
 escape-pipes, loudly reached our ears. As she drew 
 nearer, she fired a gun from her bow, and the report 
 echoed fi-om the clifi", and re-echoed from Fort Rosalie, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 285 
 
 a fine old ruin, overhanging the lower town, sunk growl- 
 ing away among the hills. 
 
 We were soon on board, and in possession of luxurious 
 state-rooms, richly carpeted, and containing elegant beds, 
 superbly hung with drapery, marble laver stands, velvet- 
 colored lounges, and every luxury that taste could invent. 
 I don't wonder now that the people travel so much here. 
 The boat is a regular packet between Vicksburg and 
 New Orleans, and being always filled with wealth and 
 fashion — for the travel up and down the river of the 
 planters and their families is immense — the saloons of a 
 steamer are like a continual Levee. 
 
 But we did not long delay in our gorgeous state-rooms, 
 inviting as they were ; — Isabel and I, taking the colonel's 
 arms, and making him a secure prisoner — he surrendering 
 his liberty gracefully — went to the upper deck, to take 
 a farewell view of Natchez, that hospitable, wealthy, 
 and polished town, which has so often been spoken of by 
 travelers, as the most charming place in the sunny South 
 — a testimony to which I freely add my own. We had 
 left dear friends there, and we could see some of them 
 waving their handkerchiefs or hats from carriage-windows 
 or on horseback, which signals of friendship we answered 
 as Ions: as we could distino-uish the flutter of a hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 We were delighted with the scenery — with the fine old 
 hills, broken into precipices of the most romantic shapes 
 and wildest beauty. The spires and towers of the city 
 appeared with striking efi'ect above the cliff; but the 
 most prominent object of all was the green parapet and 
 glacis of Fort Panmure, or Rosalie, as the French 
 anciently termed it. 
 
28G THE suxxY south; or, 
 
 This truly picturesque fort has been the scene of many 
 a thrilling romance. The pens of Griffith, of Monette, 
 of Dupee, have invested its site with associations of the 
 deepest interest. Above its now verdant embrasures has 
 floated the golden-hued flag of Spain, the lily of France, 
 the double-cross and blood-red ensign of England, and 
 more lately the cheerful stars and stripes of my own 
 country ; and it is my patriotic prayer that no fifth banner 
 wave above it, till "time shall be no longer." 
 
 Twenty miles below Natchez, we passed a congeries of 
 precipices frowning above the river, called the "White 
 Cliffs." They are broken and cloven by the sapping of 
 the river into the hundreds of fantastic shapes ; and as 
 the strata are varied by the most brilliantly-tinted ar- 
 gillaceous soils, the appearance of their lofty faces is ex- 
 tremely beautiful. A rainbow seemed to have been 
 driven against it by the winds, and left fragments of 
 every dye staining its sides. One of the cliffs stands 
 alone, and from the shape of its summit, which seems to 
 be crested with a battlement, it is called "The Castle." 
 
 It was proposed by Isabel, that it should henceforth 
 be named " Castle Kossuth," which suggestion was carried 
 
 by acclamation. Please, therefore, Mr. , make the 
 
 whole world and "the rest of mankind" advised of this 
 addition. Isabel is quite carried away with the great 
 Magyar, and has named fifty things after him; and I 
 fear, if he were a single gentleman, she would not hesitate 
 the turning of a silver three-cent piece to be herself 
 also named after him. I wonder Madame Kossuth isn't 
 jealous! I wouldn't like my husband — but no matter. 
 In my next I w^ill tell you what I think about Mr. Kos- 
 suth; for one lady's opinion of one of the other sex, Mr. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 287 
 
 , is worth that of fifty men. We women see and 
 
 understand instinctively. You men cogitate, reason, 
 
 hem, and haw, and then— judge wrong always. Ah, if 
 
 gentlemen in business would ask their wives' opinions of 
 
 such and such men they deal with, be sure they would 
 
 save them a great deal of loss and vexation. The good 
 
 old Bible term, "help meet," means vastly more than the 
 
 "lords matrimonial" ever guessed at. But, dear me 
 
 — One of the cliffs is divided, leaving a pair of pinnacles. 
 
 From one to the other an Indian girl, pursued by a 
 
 vengeful lover, leaped, and saved her life. It was a 
 
 fearful gulf across which she bounded; and only wings 
 
 of fear could have compassed it in safety. The incident 
 
 has drawn from the graceful pen of John T. Griffith, Esq., 
 
 a planter in the vicinity, a charming story, called "The 
 
 Fawn's Leap." 
 
 It was first published in one of the earliest, if not the 
 earliest number of the old "Atlantic Souvenir." I read 
 it when a child with great delight. I wish you would 
 discover it and republish it. Mr. Griffith is a native of 
 Princeton, N. J., and cousin of Commodore Stockton, and 
 m him one of the first American writers has been spoiled 
 by opulence in estate. If Mr. G. had been compelled to 
 write as an author, he would, now in his fiftieth year, have 
 stood at the head of American writers. 
 
 As evening drew near, we descended from our elevated 
 promenade to the ladies' cabin. It was lighted by clus- 
 ters of chandeliers of the richest description, resplendent 
 with a thousand trembling prisms. ^ Six chandeliers at 
 equal distances revealed a series of connected saloons, 
 with the intervening folding doors thrown back, fully 
 two hundred feet in length. Along the centre, extended 
 
288 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 for eighty feet, stood a table for supper, that, in its per- 
 fect and sumptuous arrangements, rivaled that at the 
 " Irving," " Girard," or any first rate hotel. Indeed, the 
 first class steamers now are first class hotels floating ! I 
 am not surprised at the gentleman, who, for three or four 
 trips, retained his stateroom, never going on shore at 
 either port, until, being suspected of being some myste- 
 rious character who had designs forbidden by the eighth 
 Commandment, he was questioned by the captain. In 
 reply, he said : 
 
 " My dear sir, I find your boat so comfortable, your 
 table so luxurious, your officers so polite, your servants 
 so attentive, and such varied company enliven your 
 cabins, that, being a person of leisure and fortune, I 
 prefer residing with you, at least till the St. Charles is 
 rebuilt. I trust you will have no objection to a perma- 
 nent passenger!" 
 
 The vanity of the gallant captain took the place of 
 his apprehensions, and, bowing politely, he left this gen- 
 tleman of good taste to enjoy himself as he pleased — a 
 privilege which I will now allow to all my good friends 
 who have read thus far in this poor letter, which I mis- 
 givingly tender to the tender mercies of all post-masters, 
 mail-carriers, and mail-bags on the route between this 
 place and your fair city. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 I am your friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 289 
 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 My dear Mr. : 
 
 My last "Needle" left me a voyager upon the Mis- 
 sissippi, on my way to New Orleans, on board one of the 
 elegant packets that ply between that city and Natchez. 
 If you have never been a guest on one of these noble 
 vessels that constantly plow the bosom of the monarch 
 of waters, you can form no idea of the variety of interest 
 and entertainment to be drawn from a trip on one of 
 them. Let me describe the interior scenes of our cabin 
 the first evening after leaving Natchez. In one corner 
 of the superbly-lighted saloon was a group composed of 
 three lovely, dark-eyed Southern girls, a handsome young 
 man, and an elderly gentleman, with a fine. General 
 Washington head, who was dressed in a blue coat, white 
 vest with gilt buttons, and drab pantaloons, terminating 
 in polished boots — a real fine old Southern gentleman, 
 with princely manners. They are all engaged in seem- 
 ingly very interesting conversation, and the girls laugh 
 a great deal and merrily, and seem to refer everything 
 with a charming familiarity, yet respectful affection, to the 
 snowy headed gentleman, who seems to be in the most ad- 
 mirable humor. His full, hearty, cheery laugh does one 
 good to hear, especially when one sees his fine face lighted 
 up with benevolence and kindliness. 
 
 The three girls seem to he teazing him to consent to 
 19 
 
290 THE SUNNY south: or, 
 
 some request, while the handsome young man looks on 
 and enjoys the scene. I don't hear a word they say, but 
 I know they are all happy, and I sympathize with their 
 joy. Oh ! how many ten thousands of happy groups 
 there are in all the world as happy, whose voices I not 
 only do not hear, but whom I do not see, and never shall 
 see, nor know, (until I get to Heaven,) that they ever 
 existed ! Every hour there is a world full of joy felt by 
 millions, wdiose hearts beat like mine, and if all the happy 
 lauo-hter that at this moment, while I write this line, 
 could be heard at once thrilling through the air, we 
 should think all the stars of God were shouting for joy, 
 and all the music of Heaven to be floating around the 
 earth ! Indeed, this world is a happy world, and if tens 
 of thousands of hearts in it daily beat 
 
 " Funeral marches to the grave," 
 
 tens of thousands of other hearts bound with all the 
 delight of joyous life. 
 
 I have often thought, when I reflected upon the sweet 
 and gentle characters of the dear friends I find wherever 
 I go, and learn to love ere I part from them, that there 
 must be in this God's good world, in thousands of places 
 where I never have been, nor ever shall be, glorious 
 armies of as sweet and gentle, of as intellectual and 
 loveable ones, whom, if I knew them, one and all, I 
 should love, and they would love me. I sigh to think 
 that I live ' on the same green earth, a life long with a 
 legion of loving spirits congenial with mine, and never 
 spe them face to face, and that all of us will go down to 
 the shades of death, ignorant that the others had been 
 created. But, when I begin tq regret thisj Christianity 
 
THE SOUTnERNER AT HOME. 291 
 
 unfolds to my eye of faitli, tlic world of undying life be- 
 yond tlie tomb; and I console myself with the thought 
 that " There I shall see them and know them all, and be 
 known and loved of them ! There the veil which sepa- 
 rates us congenial ones in this life will be removed, and 
 I shall see and know them all ; not one of us all will he lost 
 to the others there!'' But my pen is a great truant, Mr. 
 
 . It will not so much follow facts as wander after 
 
 thouo;hts. It is like the "busy bee," 
 
 " Gathering honey all the day, 
 From every opening flower." 
 
 In the opposite corner of the saloon sits, or rather in- 
 clines a little out of the shade of the chandelier, yet so 
 that the light falls in soft transparent shadow upon her 
 transparent features, an invalid lady of thirty years! 
 Kneeling by her footstool is an Africaness, with a scarlet 
 kerchief bound about her crispy brow, who looks up into 
 the pure intelligent face of the lady v>dth watchful solici- 
 tude, while with a gorgeous fan of peacock's feathers, 
 she slowly and gently creates a zephyr-like air about 
 her. There is something in the countenance of the in- 
 valid that is touchingly beautiful. It is a face that looks 
 as if it were spiritualized by suffering. Her dark, intel- 
 ligent eyes, unnaturally large and bright, uneasily wander 
 about the^aloon. The presence of strangers seems to 
 alarm and distress her. Yet her looks are peaceful, 
 calm, and resigned, like one whom sorrow hath chas- 
 tened, and who hath learned to say to pain, " Thou art 
 my sister!" 
 
 I feel a deep interest in her, and will approach her, 
 
292 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and speak gently to her, and offer my services; for she 
 seems to be alone, save her faithful attendant. 
 
 Hark ! pulse-leaping music rolls from a grand piano 
 through the noble saloon. A tall, graceful, blue-eyed 
 lady, whom, with her husband, we took on board at a 
 w^ood-yard an hour ago, has seated herself at the instru- 
 ment, at the solicitation of several gentlemen and ladies, 
 who seem to know her, for on these Southern boats 
 everybody seems to know everybody, and feels as much 
 at home as on their own plantations. What superb 
 melody her magic fingers draw from the ivory keys ! I 
 cease writing in my note-book to listen to a perfect 
 April-shower of harmony — sun-shine, rainbows, thunder, 
 singing birds, and ringing rain drops, all bewilderingly 
 and joyously heard together! The "fine old Southern 
 gentleman" first pricked up his ears, and then rose and 
 advanced; the three graces forgot to tease him, and hung 
 breathlessly over the piano. The lady commenced sing- 
 ing Casta Diva. The invalid raised her gloriously 
 bright eyes, and her pearl-hued cheek flushed with a 
 tint as delicate as the reflections of a rose-leaf; and with 
 parted lips she seemed to drink in the melodious waves 
 of air, and receive them into her very soul. How se- 
 raphically she smiles as she listens ! Oh, music is heaven- 
 born ! Music can reach the soul of the dying when it is 
 deaf to the voice of earthly love ! Once I watched at 
 midnight by the bedside of a loved and dying maiden, 
 whose brow the day before had been blessed with the 
 waters of baptism. 
 
 "Sing to me, dearest Kate, — sing to me," she whis- 
 pered. " I am dying. Sing to me, and let me hear 
 your voice the last sound of earth ! I feel that my soul 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 293 
 
 is going alone. Alone, into the vast void that stretches 
 between time and eternity. Oh, sing to me as you find 
 my spirit departing, that my wandering soul may have 
 some sound of earth to cling to as it launches into that 
 dread unknown!" 
 
 So I sang to her, and her soul took flight on the 
 wings of the sweet words, 
 
 "I would not live alway — no, welcome the tomb; 
 Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. 
 There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise, 
 To hail him in triumph descending the skies." 
 
 The graceful stranger who had taken her seat at the 
 piano, soon gathered about her not only all the ladies 
 and gentlemen in our cabin, but the gentlemen in the 
 great saloon left their politics to advance and listen, 
 others laid down their books and newspapers, and even 
 parties rose from their cards to come nigh her ! There 
 "svas a perfect jam about the cabin entrance — tiers of heads 
 beyond tiers of heads ! I myself was perfectly entranced 
 by the syren. Without apparent effort she would pour 
 and pour, and pour forth from her superbly-shaped throat, 
 liquid globules of melody, that intoxicated the ear of the 
 listener with hitherto unknown pleasure. She brought 
 tears into many eyes by the tenderest pathos, and again 
 dispelled the tears by successive outbursts of the liveliest 
 strains of wild, rich, song. Now she would fill all the 
 saloon with a storm of notes, gorgeous and grand, and 
 unearthly beyond conception ; torrents of music, music, 
 music, loud, wild, and terrible, seemed to be roaring 
 around us in one continuous overwhelming cataract; and 
 when we could bear no more, a sudden and instantaneous 
 
294 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 cessation of keys and voice would be succeeded by a soft 
 gentle, loving air, as simple and clear as that of a bird. 
 This bird-like air warbled in her throat, would seem to 
 ascend and ascend, and mount and soar, and still ascend 
 far upwards, rise higher and higher, higher and higher, 
 growing sweeter and fainter, ascending, and still ascend- 
 ing, until, breathless with enchantment, we listened till 
 we lost the far off voice of the lark-like notes in the 
 sl^ies — dying away at length into a sacred silence. 
 Every heart suspended its beating! With lips parted, 
 eyes raised upwards, and ears intent, stood every one of 
 the eager and bewitched listeners, as if an angel had 
 gone singing up into heaven, out of their sight. 
 
 A sudden crash of music startles the silence, as if 
 thunder had burst from the skies upon our heads ! It is 
 one grand sweep of the fingers of the charmer over every 
 key of the instrument, in an overpowering finale, when, 
 rising from her seat, she seeks blushingly and modestly 
 her husband's eye and arm, amid the most rapturous and 
 prolonged applause. 
 
 "Who can she be? It must be Jenny Lind! or it is 
 certainly Kate Hayes!" said fifty voices. But it was 
 
 neither of these ! All musical talent, Mr. , is not 
 
 displayed in concert rooms. In private life, among 
 American ladies, especially among the highly-educated 
 Southerners, to whom music is a native air, there is as 
 much talent as is possessed by Miss Lind, or Miss Hayes, 
 or Madame Parodi. This sweet stranger and noble per- 
 former was a Mrs. W h, a young married lady, whose 
 
 husband's plantation was near the point where they cm- 
 barked, not many leagues below Natchez, of which she is 
 a native. Miss Cole, formerly of New Rochclle, Misa 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 295 
 
 "VVatson, of Nashville, and many others, I can name, sing 
 Casta Diva and a score of other operatic pieces, with as 
 much effect and feeling as any cantatrice that ever ap- 
 peared before a public assembly. America has more 
 musical talent and skill buried in the retirement of her 
 Southern plantations, or adorning her Northern drawing- 
 rooms, than Sweden, Italy, or Germany possess, in all 
 their valleys and amid all their romantic scenery. 
 
 Should circumstances call them to make use of their 
 talent and genius as a means of support, our ladies could 
 *'beat" Europe in operatic music as our gentlemen have 
 lately done in yachting. Biscaccianti — withal her Italian 
 husband's name substituted for her own — is an American 
 girl, with whom I once met in her school ! This intel- 
 lectual and soul-full Biscaccianti has not at present her 
 equal in opera song. She has the key to our joys and 
 tears. I learn that she has lately sailed for California, 
 to awaken there the echoes of the "Golden Gate." 
 Should it "grate harsh thunder" before her approach, at 
 the sound of this songstress' silvery voice, it will swing 
 wide, like Milton's Celestial portal 
 
 " On harmonious hinges turning." 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 P. S. I have dated this and two preceding letters from 
 "Chateau de Clery." This is the sugar estate of a 
 French gentleman of this name, where I am sojourning 
 for a few weeks, and from w^hich I shall write you some 
 accounts of life in the villas of the opulent Louisianaises. 
 
296 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXXVI. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 How shall my feeble pen describe to you the beauty 
 of the scenery of the Lower Mississippi ! If the northern 
 portion of this mighty flood, as it rolls forever and ever 
 amid its dark wildernesses, is gloomy and awe inspiring, 
 the southern arm is infinitely more beautiful. One or 
 two of my last letters have been devoted to a sketch of 
 our trip from Natchez towards New Orleans. It is at 
 Natchez that the wild forest-like character of the Miss- 
 issippi begins to assume the more cheerful features of 
 varied scenery, and cultivated savannahs. 
 
 Natchez itself sits like a queen crowning a fortress- 
 looking cliif, and extending her sceptre over the verdant 
 plains and smiling valleys of Louisiana. Then twenty 
 miles below this city frown down upon the voyager the 
 craggy peaks and tower-like walls of "Ellis Cliffs." 
 Erom that point till Baton Eouge comes in sight, the 
 shores become more open, and the banks more interesting 
 with cliff, upland, and many a green spot of rustic loveli- 
 ness, where the blue smoke curling upwards amid deep 
 foliage, betrays the secluded home of the planter. 
 
 A few leagues above Baton Rouge, the cotton fields 
 cease, and for these snow-white acres is beheld the tall, 
 straight sugar-cane waving to the breeze for many a 
 league. Until I came in sight of the first sugar estate, 
 
THE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 29T 
 
 I was not aware of the distinctness with which the lines 
 of climate that mark the locality of our country's dif- 
 ferent staples can he discerned. In descending the 
 Upper Mississippi, the last wheat field was taken leave 
 of at the same moment the first cotton plantation was 
 pointed out to me ; and after sailing eight degrees through 
 the cotton latitudes, the last cotton plantation and the 
 first sugar estate meet not far above Baton Rouge. Thus 
 the advance with majestic progression on one of these 
 mammoth steamers down through the latitudes, has in it 
 something of the sublime. But I regret to leave the 
 pure, white plains of spotless cotton fleece, than which 
 nothing can be more charming to the eye. I shall never 
 forget when one morning as I rose from breakfast, at Lake 
 Providence, the gentleman, at whose house we were 
 guests, cried, 
 
 " Come, Miss Kate, ride with me, and I will show you 
 a sight worth going across the ocean to see, and which 
 beats all John Bull has got in the Crystal Palace." 
 
 After twenty minutes' gallop along the narrow shores 
 of the lake, we drew rein on the verge of a cotton-field. 
 
 " Now hold by that branch, and stand upright in your 
 saddle, Kate, and look before you," he said. 
 
 I did so, and beheld a level expanse, containing eleven 
 hundred acres in cotton, without fence or ridge to break 
 the beautiful spectacle. The plant was in full boll, hang- 
 ing to the hand of the picker in the richest luxuriance. 
 A small army of slaves, whose black faces contrasted 
 oddly with the white fields, were marching onward 
 through it gathering the white wreaths, and heaping 
 therewith their baskets, while the loud musical chorus 
 of their leader's voice, to which their own kept tune, 
 
298 THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 as he sang ^^the picker's song," fell cheerfully on my 
 ears. 
 
 "That field alone," said the major, with a sparkling 
 eye, "is worth $60,000." 
 
 Oh, the wealth of these cotton-planters, Mr. ! 
 
 But if they are rich, what shall be said of the owners 
 of the sugar estates, which are far more profitable to 
 cultivate than cotton plantations I Our New England 
 farmers have no conception of the riches of these South- 
 ern people. Let me give you an instance of the manner 
 in which money accumulates here. A young gentleman, 
 whom I know near Natchez, received, at twenty-one 
 years of age, thirty slaves from his father, and fourteen 
 hundred acres of w^ild forest land on the Mississippi. 
 He took his hands there, and commenced clearing. 
 Thirty axes do vast execution in a wood. As he cleared 
 he piled up the cloven timber into fire-wood length, and 
 sold it to passing steamers at |2 50 a cord. The first year 
 he took $12,000 in cash for wood alone. The second 
 year he raised 80 bales of cotton, which he sold at $50 
 a bale, and he also sold wood to the amount of $14,000 
 more. The third year he sold 150 bales of cotton, and 
 cleared by wood $10,000, which, with $8,000 his cotton 
 sold for, brought him an income of $18,000. Out of 
 this the expense for feeding and clothing his thirty slaves 
 per annum was less than $1,800. The young man, not 
 yet twenty-nine, is now a rich planter, with a hundred 
 slaves, and is making 500 bales of cotton at a crop. 
 
 Excuse these business-looking figures, Mr. , but in 
 
 these days ladies are expected to know about such things, 
 you know, and if I have learned such facts it is no harm 
 for me to write them. If I were writing from Lapland, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 299 
 
 I should, perhaps, tell you how many reindeer's skins 
 went to make a young girl's marriage portion. 
 
 It was half an hour before sunset when we came in 
 sight of Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana. The 
 State-house, large and white, loomed grandly up, and 
 overtowering the town belittled it so that its best houses 
 seemed no bigger than cottages. The place is small, 
 but flanked by United States Barracks on one side, and 
 by the Capitol on the other. The star-spangled banner 
 was flying at the top of the government flag-stafi', and 
 flaunted saucily in the breeze. 
 
 ''There is General Taylor's house," cried the captain 
 of our steamer, who, by-the-way, is a great lady's man, 
 and the civilest spoken gentleman to be a rough, wea- 
 ther-beaten Mississippi commander I ever knew. 
 
 He directed my gaze to a small, white dwelling on the 
 verge of the parade-ground, with its garden descending 
 to the water-side. It was an humble home, and would 
 not have been too fine for the sergeant to live in. I 
 gazed upon the spot with those indescribable emotions 
 with which we always gaze upon localities with which 
 eminent men have once been associated. 
 
 " From that unpretending abode he went forth to the 
 conquest of Mexico," said Colonel Peyton, addressing 
 Isabel and me, "and from it a second time he was called 
 to preside over the destinies of the Union." 
 
 " His body lies buried beneath the trees there," said 
 one of the passengers. 
 
 " No, answered our captain, " his remains were taken 
 to Kentucky." 
 
 "There is old Whitey," exclaimed a beautiful young 
 girl near me, one of those who had come on board at 
 
300 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Natchez. " Dear old Whitey ; he deserves that the girls 
 of Baton Rouge should every day crown hhn with flow- 
 ers, and interwreath his mane with the gayest ribbons." 
 
 Sure enough I saw the ancient war-horse himself. He 
 was grazing quietly on the slope of the parade-ground; 
 but at the noise of our passing boat, he raised his aged 
 head to regard us philosophically ! He looks venerable, 
 but has not lost his symmetry; and they say that at the 
 sound of the morning and evening gun he pricks up his 
 ears, tosses his head, flings his gray mane abroad, and 
 canters into the smoke, snuffing it up, and neighing like 
 a trumpet. 
 
 I walked through the four or five pretty streets that 
 constitute Baton Rouge. It is a French looking town yet, 
 though French manners with the language have given 
 way to a highly-polished American population. The 
 streets are prettily shaded; the houses have verandahs; 
 ladies were in the balconies; beautiful olive-cheeked 
 children, with hair dressed a la Suisse, promenaded the 
 sidewalks; servants were indolently occupying the door- 
 sides, and a few carriages drive through the streets. I 
 was on the whole agreeably impressed with Baton Rouge, 
 and think it would be a charming residence. It is one 
 hundred and thirty miles above New Orleans ; and from 
 this point begins the superb scenery of that part of the 
 river called ''the Coast."* The moon was up when 
 
 * " The portion of the river Mississippi, which lies towards 
 the Mexican Gulf, for a distance of two hundred and fifty miles 
 above its mouth, has been called the * Coast,' from the earliest 
 settlement of the country. The reason why this misnomer has 
 been thus given to the banks of the Southern Mississippi, is 
 unknown." — Histoid of Louisiana. 
 
, THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 301 
 
 we left Baton Rouge, after an hour's delay, and with 
 the addition to our passengers of some forty members of 
 the Legislature, most of them with French physiogno- 
 mies, we resumed our voyage down the stream. 
 
 Wishing you, Mr. , a safe voyage down the stream 
 
 of life, I remain, 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
302 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XXXVII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 If you see a report going the rounds of certain bar- 
 barous journals that I am married, I forbid your copying 
 it, and command you to contradict it. It is a shame 
 how some of these bachelor editors will make use of a 
 young lady's name. If one protests, they say, "It is 
 only a paragraph," and each one scissors away and sets 
 up his type, without caring who is hurt, so that his 
 paper is "racy." I am not married; and when I am, I 
 desire it to be properly announced, under the head of 
 Marriages, like those of other people, and not blazoned 
 en paragraphe in an editor's column. Why, the bare 
 idea of being thus paragraphed, is enough to prevent 
 any modest young man from proposing, much less mar- 
 rying, at such a venture. 
 
 So, please, Mr. ■ , don't paragraph my marriage, 
 
 even should you hear of it; and if you catch that ugly, 
 little paragraph about me going the rounds of those ever- 
 lasting echoing country papers, put your finger upon it, 
 and annihilate it. It originated somewhere in Oktibbe- 
 haw county, in a paper called the Independent Rifle 
 Ranger, the editor of which is the intelligent gentleman 
 who took a telegraph wire, stretched across the country, 
 to be the Tropic of Cancer. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 303 
 
 In my last we were just quitting Baton Rouge, the 
 rural and Franco-American capital of Louisiana. The 
 name of this place (Red Pole) originated in a very pretty 
 buccaneering custom of the olden times of this romantic 
 corner of the New World. 
 
 ''You see, ma'am," said our old pilot, who told me the 
 story, — for these ancient river-gods of the Mississippi 
 are tremendous story-tellers, (I don't mean fibbers, Mr. 
 
 ,) and they always have a grand, great story about 
 
 every bend, point, island, bluiF, and pass in the river, — 
 "you see, ma'am, in them old Frenchified times, folks 
 didn't care 'mazin much 'bout law, nor gospel neither. 
 If a man killed another, why, if there was any relative 
 of the killed man, he'd take it up, and shoot the other; 
 and so it went, every man his own lawyer. Well, there 
 was no steamboats them days, and keelers used to float 
 down from up country, filled with peltry and sich goods 
 for the Orleans market. There wasn't many men on 
 board to man 'em. — pr'aps seven or nine; but they kept 
 well out in the middle o' the stream, at long shot from 
 the Indian's arrers, and the Frenchman's gun. But 
 there Avas a regular band o' pirates lived on the river 
 where Baton Rouge now is, and they had a captain, and 
 numbered fifty men or more — awful rascals ; every one 
 on 'em — had done enough murder to hang seven honest 
 Christians. This captain was the essence on 'em, all 
 biled down for deviltry and wickedness; and yet they 
 say he was young, almost a boy, plaguy handsome fel- 
 low, with an eye like a woman, and a smile like a hyena; 
 and his men were as afraid of him as death. 
 
 "Well, he lived in a sort of castle of his own, over on 
 the little rise you see, near the town, and people said he 
 
304 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 bad, begging your pardon, ma'am, as many wives as old 
 Captain Bluebeard, and killed 'em as easy. Well, be 
 bad a lookout kept on the point just in the bend, and 
 there had a red pole raised to hoist a flag on. When his 
 men saw a boat coming in sight, they'd hoist a green flag 
 to the top o' the pole, and in the night a green lantern ; 
 for he was a great friend to green color, and wore green 
 velvet himself like a foreign lord. 
 
 " When he'd see the light or the flag, he'd wind his 
 silver bugle and collect his men to the boats, and when 
 the keeler would get nearly opposite, he'd shout like 
 twenty heathens, and dart out with his seven barges upon 
 the descending craft. It was short work they made then. 
 A rush, and leaping on board, a few pistol shots and 
 cutlass blows, and the crew were dead or overboard. The 
 prize was then towed into the cove beneath the castle, 
 and plundered, and set on fire. Them were rough and 
 bloody times. Miss !" 
 
 The pilot, finding his cigar had gone out, drew a loco- 
 foco match from his vest pocket, ignited it by drawing it 
 across his horny thumb-nail, relighted his cigar, and 
 began to scan the appearance of the sky, which looked 
 fitful. But I was too much interested in my Green Cor- 
 sair of the Rouge Baton to let his story end there ; so I 
 said : 
 
 " Please tell me, Mr. Bedlow, what became of this man 
 and his crew?" 
 
 " Some say he was shot in the Public Plaza, in New 
 Orleans, by the Spanish Governor; but I heard an old 
 pilot say, that he was assassinated by a young woman he 
 had captured; and that is likely by all accounts." 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 305 
 
 " How was it ?" I inquiretl, seeing that the old man's 
 eye looked communicative. 
 
 " On one of the craft captured there was a young girl, 
 the skipper's wife, who had been married only the day 
 afore the keeler left Pittsburgh, and Major Washington 
 (afterwards General) they say was at the weddin', and 
 gave away the bride ; for she was mighty pretty, and 
 General Washington, like a true soldier, always had an 
 eye to a handsome face. Well, this pirate took the craft, 
 and killed or driv' overboard all hands, and he made the 
 bride prisoner. He took her to his castle, and was dread- 
 ful in love with her. But she saw only her husband's 
 blood on his hands, and, taking a pistol from his belt, 
 she shot him dead, and escaped in a boat to New Orleans, 
 where the Governor gave her a thousand crowns, and 
 afterwards married her. They say he took her to Spain, 
 and presented her to court, and that she became one o' 
 the greatest ladies in the Spanish land. That's the story 
 I hearn, ma'am, but I won't vouch for its Bible truth, for 
 it's mighty hard reckoning up things happening so long 
 
 ago. 
 
 So the old pilot left me, being called to the wheel, 
 while I pondered on the story I had heard, and gazed on 
 
 the shores about Baton Bouge with deeper interest so 
 
 wonderfully do associations fling charms about locality. 
 
 What a nice story some writer of imagination might 
 make out of this rough-hewn narrative of the old pilot ! 
 Cooper is dead, Simms a Senator, Kennedy a politician, 
 Mrs. Lee Hentz an editress. Who shall we get to write 
 it ? All the old novelists have left the field, and if we 
 do not have more new ones come into it, there will be 
 20 
 
306 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 no more novels. Perhaps the worhl wouhl be wiser and 
 better. Who knows yes ? Who knows no ? 
 
 Among the passengers who came on board at Baton 
 Rouge was the newly elected Senator from Louisiana to 
 Congress, Mr. Benjamin. Having heard much of him, 
 I scanned him closely. He is a small man, but made with 
 a certain compactness and dignity, that makes one forget 
 his stature in his bearing. His face is very fine, dark, 
 healthy, full, and pleasing. He resembles General G. P. 
 Morris, as this latter gentleman was some years ago ; he 
 has the same smiling eyes, agreeable mouth, and honhomie 
 air. His eyes are dark and expressive, and his whole 
 face indicates rather good-natured repose and amiable in- 
 dolence than that high order of talent which has won for 
 him, at little above thirty years of age, the high distinc- 
 tion of representing the proud state of Louisiana in the 
 U. S. Senate. 
 
 The more I looked at Mr. Benjamin, the more I was 
 puzzled to divine why he should have been chosen to this 
 high position. I could see in his face only qualities that 
 •would attach him to his friends, make him a loving 
 father, and a husband greatly beloved by whatever lady 
 might be so happy as to hold the holy relations of wife 
 to him ; but I saw no indications of that ruling and marked 
 mind, which I took it for granted he ought from his 
 fame and rank to possess. While I was observing him, as 
 he sat reading, some gentlemen approached and entered 
 into conversation with him, upon the subject of the an- 
 nexation of the suburban town of Lafayette to New 
 Orleans. His opinion was referred to. His eyes opened 
 and lighted. His face changed its whole character, and 
 for half an hour I listened to his conversation with 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 807 
 
 increasiiiir delio-lit and fascination. I saw and heard 
 the man of talent ! I discovered in his close reasonin;^, 
 his acute manner of analysis, his calm self-command, 
 his thorough knowledge of his subject, his fluent and 
 graceful speech, the causes of his elevation above the 
 men about him. 
 
 His voice is not good, and his size is against him; and 
 when he shall first appear in the American Senate he 
 will not attract any eye, save the glance of wonder at 
 his youthful appearance, for he does not look above 
 twenty-five. But they will find him their equal — an 
 eagle among eagles. His eloquence, wisdom, and know- 
 ledge of affairs will make him tell in the Senatorial 
 Hall. It was Mr. Benjamin, who, in speaking of the 
 progress of the age, gave utterance to this fine sentiment 
 in one of his speeches in the Legislature of Louisiana: — 
 "The whistle of the locomotive is finer music than the 
 clarion of war, and the thunder of its wheel, than the 
 roar of artillery." 
 
 Mr. Benjamin is an Israelite. His election, therefore, 
 is a practical illustration of the free institutions of our 
 happy land, where theological disabilities are not known. 
 It is surprising how the Jews, I mean the educated and 
 talented, place themselves in the highest rank of society 
 always. There is inherent in them an element of great- 
 ness that irresistibly finds its noble level. We see in 
 them the blood of David and Isaiah, of Abraham and 
 Solomon, of Joseph and the Maccabees; their princely 
 lineage is not extinct. How odd it would be if we should 
 have a Jew to be President of the United States. And 
 why not? Mr. Benjamin is a Senator. He is a rising 
 man. He may one day hold the highest office in the 
 
308 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 gift of the nation. Would any man refuse to vote for 
 him because he is a Jew ? But I am adventuring beyond 
 
 my depth — so, good night,. Mr. . 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 309 
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Chateau de Cleri. 
 
 My dear Mr. — 
 
 This will be the last letter I shall write you from 
 this plantation, where I have been passing a few weeks 
 in the most agreeable society. Our party landed here 
 early on the morning after leaving Baton Rouge; for 
 M. de Clery, the proprietor of this noble sugar estate, 
 is a relative of the Colonel's, and the two gentlemen are 
 great friends. 
 
 But before I say any thing about my present abode, 
 let me describe to you the scenery of the "coast" be- 
 tween Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Present to your 
 mind's eye a moving lake of dark, oak-tinted water, 
 rolling onward nearly a broad mile wide, and winding 
 league after league through an illimitable valley, as level 
 as a billiard table, and as even all around the horizon as 
 IS the edge of the sky-meeting ocean. Behold both 
 banks lined with wide sugar plantations extending rear- 
 ward, from a mile to a league, green with the corn-like 
 leaves of the young cane, and bordered in the rear by 
 impenetrable forests. 
 
 ^ In the bosom of each of these estates you see a stately 
 villa, its chateau-like roof towering above a grove, and 
 surrounded by colonnades, which are liedged in by orange 
 and lemon trees, the rich, golden fruit hanging within 
 
310 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 reach of the hand from the drawing-room windows. On 
 one side of these chateaux, or else in the rear, glitter the 
 white walls of a score or two of African cottages, which 
 compose the village of the slaves, each with its little 
 garden plot, and shaded by a roof-tree. In the midst 
 of this neat and pretty Ethiopian village, rises a tower, 
 on the summit of Avhich is swung a plantation bell, which 
 at day dawn rings up the slaves to commence their labor, 
 rings them to their meals through the day, and to their 
 quarters at night. Not far from this negro village, 
 standing massive and alone in the midst of the sugar 
 fields, rise the high brick walls and tall, steeple-like 
 chimneys of the sucrSrie, or sugar-house, where the cane 
 is ground up, and goes through its various processes, 
 from gross molasses to the purest white crystalization. 
 Some of these sucreries are of great size, looking like 
 universities, or some public edifice ; and they cost so much, 
 that, with the other expense of establishing a sugar 
 estate, it is common to say that a "man must be a rich 
 cotton planter before he can commence as a poor sugar 
 planter," the expense of starting a cotton plantation 
 being very small compared with that for the latter; but 
 the sugar planter has the advantage of striding on to 
 opulence in proportion to his outlay. 
 
 This description which I have given of a sugar estate, 
 with its vast, level fields, like emerald plains, its stately 
 sucr^rie, its snow-white negro village, its elegant cha- 
 teau half buried in trees, will answer for that of the 
 hundreds that continuously line the two shores of the 
 Mississippi, between Baton Kouge and New Orleans. 
 The steamer, therefore, as she moves down, seems as if 
 passing through a majestic canal, with a street of villas 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 311 
 
 on either shore. A few yards from the water runs a 
 beautiful road, level and smooth, bordered on one side 
 by gardens and houses, and on the other by the river. 
 This road is always enlivened by carriages, horsemen, 
 or foot-passengers ; for the whole line of shore, for the 
 one hundred and fifty miles, is a continued unbroken 
 street. When our steamer ran near one shore or the 
 other, we could look in upon the inmates of the houses, 
 and see them at their meals, and as we sailed past by moon- 
 light, the voice of song, the thrum of the guitar, or the 
 soft cadence of the flute, would float off" to us from the 
 piazzas or lawns, or some bower buried in the shadows 
 of the garden. The atmosphere was laden with the fra- 
 grance of flowers, and the mocking-bird's joyous and 
 varied melody filled the branches, to our imagination, 
 with a whole aviary of singing birds. Ah, it was per- 
 fect enchantment, Mr. , sailing through these lovely 
 
 scenes beneath the broad shield of the moon casting its 
 radiance of burnished silver over all. The very river, 
 usually in its mildest mood champing and growling like 
 a chained lion, flowed almost unruffled, like a moving 
 glass surface, mirroring the light with dazzling brilliancy. 
 Below us, and above us, the red and green signal lights 
 of other boats, ascending and descending, added to the 
 changing beauty of all, while the bright flames kept 
 burning all night at the wood stations, along the shores, 
 casting their long, blood-red columns far along the sur- 
 face of the stream, added a certain wildness to the gene- 
 ral features of the whole. 
 
 I remained on deck to a late hour, wrapped well in 
 my shawl, to guard against the dews, and enjoyed the 
 novelty of the time and place, with emotions that were 
 
312 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 new and delightful. Occasionally the sombre tower of 
 a Boman chapel, or the gray walls of a convent, (for we 
 were passing through the heart of a Roman Catholic 
 population,) came into view. One called the Convent 
 of the Sacred Heart, "Le Sacre Coeur," was one of the 
 most lovely objects I ever beheld, lighted up as its long 
 corridors were by moonlight, casting half its front alter- 
 nately into light and shade. 
 
 This, I am told, is a remarkably good school of educa- 
 tion, and many of the " first families" in the South have 
 their daughters educated there, or at the Ursuline Con- 
 vent in New Orleans — Convent des Ursulines. 
 
 There is no doubt, Mr. , that these Roman Ca- 
 tholic schools for girls are among the best we have. I 
 have seen, in the South, several estimable ladies who 
 were educated at this Convent, and certainly I never 
 met with more intelligent, well-informed, interesting 
 persons, more thoroughly accomplished ladies. 
 
 "Ah, yes," you say objectingly, "but they are in 
 danger of becoming Roman Catholics." 
 
 Of these ladies but one is a Roman Catholic, and she 
 is not very strongly grounded in that faith, usually 
 attending the Episcopal church with her husband, and 
 bringing up her children in this church. The danger, 
 if girls are well instructed first at home, is very slight 
 of their being won over to the Roman faith in these 
 schools. There is a certain romantic fascination con- 
 nected with this religion, which, for a time, has its influ- 
 ence on an imaginative temperament, but it soon wears ofi*. 
 I know and love an interesting lady, who, from her thir- 
 teenth to her seventeenth year, was a pupil at the Ursu- 
 line Convent. She came out a romantic Roman Catholic, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 313 
 
 but is now a communicant of the Presbyterian church. 
 She says she " dearly loved the kind good nuns ; that 
 they were gentle and devoted, and she used to love to 
 sit up with one old nun, Ursula, at her vigils, about 
 Christmas times, and listen to her tales of wonderful 
 miracles performed by saints and the Blessed Virgin ; in 
 all of which good dame Ursula had faith. She stoutly 
 and piously believed " how the Virgin once came down 
 and touched her cheek with her finger, and cured her 
 toothache ; how St. Ursula, their patroness, pinched 
 one of the sisters on the arm for sleeping at her post, 
 so that the mark, in the shape of a cross, remained there 
 at this hour ; how she had seen the blood from the hands 
 of the picture of Christ crucified, over the high altar 
 fall in great drops to the floor, and one of these drops, 
 which she caught on her 'kerchief, she showed me, first 
 crossing herself and me with the signs of the cross made 
 backwards and forwards ! But the story that most cap- 
 tivated me was how (as she was watching before the altar 
 one Good Friday eve) she saw the infant boy Jesus leave 
 the arms of his blessed mother, there in the picture, and 
 fly with golden wings to the great picture of Christ cru- 
 cified, on the right of the altar, and, with tears, wipe 
 the blood from His hands, and feet, and side, and strive 
 to stop its flowing, with many lamentations ! All this," 
 added the intelligent lady, " I firmly believed, but they 
 produced upon me no religious impression ; I listened 
 to them just as I read Mrs. Kadcliffe's horrible tales of 
 dungeons and bleeding nuns. Our education was not 
 committed to this good, credulous dame, do not suppose, 
 but there were ladies in the Convent of the most elcfjant 
 manners, of the most accurate education, and minds 
 
314 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 every way accomplished ; ladies of rank, who had left 
 the brilliant society of European cities to devote them- 
 selves to heaven. My chief teacher was Sister Ther^se, 
 
 who had been in France the Countess de , and who 
 
 IS said to have loved Napoleon, the King of Rome, and 
 at his death had retired from the world. All the nuns 
 were French ladies." 
 
 When I asked this lady if she still felt attached to the 
 nuns, she answered, '' Oh, yes ; I never visit New Orleans 
 that I do not go and see them and they receive me in the 
 most affectionate manner ! If I should ever meet with a 
 reverse of fortune, and lose my husband and child, I 
 should, I have no doubt, seek the calm repose and holy 
 shelter of that home of my childhood ; for, when I left 
 them, the Superior said, as she wept on my shoulder, 
 "Daughter, if the world is adverse to thee, remember 
 thou hast here always a shelter from its storms." 
 
 I am not advocating, Mr. , the habit of educating 
 
 Protestant girls in Roman nunneries ; all I can say in 
 their favor is, that they do bestow thorough educations 
 upon their pupils ; and if the Roman Catholics would 
 only give up their wicked additions to Christianity, their 
 worship of Mary, their prayers to Peter and Paul, their 
 confessional, their idolatry of the mass, their merchan- 
 dize of sins, and their other excrescences, which they 
 have heaped upon the Gospel, till it is almost lost sight 
 of, they would be the best teachers of youth in the world. 
 But holding on to these errors, they will always keep at 
 a distance the many who would patronize them. 
 
 The Episcopalians are now taking the place once so 
 prominently occupied by the Roman Catholics, as teachers 
 of youth ; and the female schools kept by Episcopal 
 
THE SOUTHERNEIl AT HOME. 315 
 
 clergymen, are acknowledged, even by other denomina- 
 tions, to be the best schools in the United States. 
 
 I forgot to say that my intelligent friend informed me, 
 that good old Aunt Ursula always knelt down with the 
 soles of her bare feet turned up to the fire, when she 
 said her prayers, in order that they might, while she was 
 praying and telling her beads, get nice and warm before 
 she jumped into bed. I have heard that " prayers and 
 provender hinder no man's journey;" but Aunt Ursula 
 knew that to say one's prayers, and warm one's toes the 
 whilst, hindered not a holy nun's devotions. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
316 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 HATKAU DE ClERY, La. 
 
 As these letters have been mainly descriptive of 
 scenes and voyaging before I reached here, this will be 
 mainly descriptive of the scenery at the Chateau. It will 
 give you some idea of the domestic arrangements of the 
 opulent French planters, than which nothing can be more 
 agreeable. No people know so well how to enjoy this 
 world as the French ; and par excellence their descend- 
 ants in Louisiana, which offers to their pleasure the cli- 
 mate of Eden with all its fruits, — with the " tree of 
 knowledge of good and evil," I fear; for with much 
 luxury, there is much evil in the world ; and, unfortun- 
 ately, one cannot live magnificently, indulging all the 
 goods of the earth, without " sin." 
 
 " Luxury and sin 
 In Eden did begin." 
 
 The Chateau de Clery, where Talleyrand, Louis Phil- 
 lippe, and Jackson have been guests, is a large, imposing, 
 French-looking mansion, with almost an acre of roof, 
 situated on the banks of the Mississippi, and embowered 
 in a grove of magnolia trees, interspersed with live-oaks 
 and orange trees. The house is vast in width, and made 
 very long, with piazzaed wings, and all around it runs a 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 317 
 
 broad colonnade supported by columns entwined by flow- 
 ering plants. 
 
 The view from the upper balcony, on which all the 
 parlors open by Venetian windows, is very beautiful, and 
 to the eye of a person born in sight of mountains, novel 
 in the extreme. There extend to the right and left, as 
 far as the eye can see, level sugar-fields, waving at this 
 season with the green billows of the breeze-tossed cane- 
 leaves. The appearance of a cane-field in this month 
 being very similar to that of a field of corn in the green 
 leaf, before it begins to display its tassels. Turning the 
 gaze from the vast savannahs of Southern wealth, the 
 lawn in front of the villa fills the eye with its shady, 
 live-oak trees, its groves of orange trees, and long aisles 
 of lemon and magnolias. From the broad steps of the 
 entrance to the portico to the river side extends a noble 
 carriage-way, bordered on each side by live-oaks. A 
 fringe of orange trees runs all around a magnificent gar- 
 den on the left, but the severe frosts of last winter 
 have rendered them leafless ; and there they stand, gray 
 and fruitless, wholly destitute of foliage, striking contrasts 
 to the rich vegetation everywhere visible around them. 
 The majestic Mississippi flows past in front of the lawu 
 a furlong distant, and confined to its banks by the greeu 
 levee, inside of which runs smoothly the carriage-road 
 down to New Orleans, and along which horsemen or car- 
 riages are constantly passing up and down. There is 
 scarcely an hour in the day in which a steamer is not 
 visible, ploughing its huge path along, with the deep roar 
 of its escape-pipes and comet-like trails of black smoke 
 rolling along the air astern, darkening the waves beneath, 
 like the passing thunder-cloud. The opposite shore a 
 
318 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 mile off, is visible, with its pretty villas, its groves and 
 parks, and its African villages white as snow, and the 
 imposing turreted sugar-houses beyond, with their tall 
 towers. 
 
 I am perfectly charmed with the scenery of this region. 
 Once I fancied that no landscape could be pretty with- 
 out hills or mountains in the distance; but the beautiful 
 shores of Louisiana have led me to change my opinion ; 
 and, although I was born in sight of the White Hills, I 
 can see much to admire in the richness of these scenes, 
 where there is not an eminence of any sort — not a mole 
 hill. All is one vast ocean-like level ; but so diversified 
 by cultivation, so ornamented by taste and art, so decked 
 with noble seats, so enriched by groves, gardens, fine 
 roads, and avenues, so variegated by the countless world 
 of flowers, and the splendor of the foliage, and graceful- 
 ness of the forms of the forest trees, its atmosphere so 
 colored by the purity of the azure and golden heavens 
 of morning and evening, with the ever changing glory 
 of the moving river, that I forget the absence of moun- 
 tains, and give my heart up to the full enjoyment of the 
 paradise around me. 
 
 You will never behold the finest portion of the Union, 
 
 Mr. , until you have visited the "coast of Sunny 
 
 Louisiana." The people, too, whose lot is cast in the 
 midst of this mighty Eden of a hundred miles in extent, 
 can appreciate the charms of their scenery. Vast wealth 
 has begotten education and taste; and refinement, and 
 mental accomplishments adorn most of the elegant man- 
 sions that border the river. 
 
 There are seventeen rooms in the Chateau de Clery, 
 most of them of a magnificent description. There are 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 319 
 
 two parlors, a large (Irawing-room, a vast hall, larger 
 than any room in the house, and which is the general 
 rendezvous of the family after dinner and tea; a sitting 
 room for the ladies; a nursery, several bath rooms, a 
 library, and a study room near it, for the governess and 
 children; besides numerous bed-rooms and dressing- 
 rooms. These rooms, the parlors and all, open out into 
 the piazza, which encircles the whole mansion. They 
 are all upon one floor, and every window is a glass door, 
 opening with leaves. The whole edifice is raised ten 
 feet from the ground, on brick pillars, leaving beneath 
 the pile numerous servants and store-rooms, concealed 
 from the eye of persons approaching the house by a lat- 
 tice-work, covering the whole front of the lower area. 
 
 The house is stuccoed, and tinted lemon color, while 
 the numerous columns are painted white, and being 
 usually enwreathed by vines, the w^hole effect is very 
 fine. Carriage ways, strewn with shells, surround the 
 mansion, and terminate at the stables — which are hand- 
 some edifices, beneath the shade of two enormous live- 
 oaks. From the rear of the gallery is visible the snowy 
 houses of the African village, sixty-eight in number, 
 forming a long street, bordered by trees, with a small 
 garden in the rear of each dwelling. In the centre of 
 this picturesque village, every house in which is the ex- 
 act pattern of the other, rises the taller roof of the over- 
 seer's mansion, above which still rises the towe#of the 
 plantation bell, which peals out many times a day to call 
 to work and to meals. 
 
 Beyond this attractive village for slaves, where neat- 
 ness and comfort prevail, rise the tall walls of the suc- 
 rdrie, or sugar house, half a mile off, towards the centre 
 
320 THE suxxY south; or, 
 
 of the estate. It hns tlie aspect of a huge manufactory. 
 It is two hundred feet long, has tliree vast chimneys, 
 one of which is seventy feet in height, and twenty feet 
 broad at the base. The whole structure is white, and 
 looks from the house, as Isabel describes it, like some 
 handsome convent. From the villa, a smooth road (of 
 course level as a floor) runs to it, and indeed, passing it, 
 extends to the cypress forest two miles beyond it. This 
 road is lined with hedges of the flowering Cherokee rose, 
 and is our favorite morning gallop, as the Levee road, 
 along the banks of the Father of Waters, is our favorite 
 evening drive. 
 
 To-morrow we leave this lovely place for the city ; and 
 
 I will tell you a secret, Mr. , which you mustn't 
 
 breathe for the world. The eldest son of M. De Clery, 
 who has only last year returned from Paris, has fallen 
 in love with Isabel, and they are to be married. We go 
 to the city to select the bridal apparel and gifts, &c. 
 
 The young gentleman is extremely handsome, four- 
 and-twenty years old, with a cultivated mind, and a good 
 heart, and unexceptionable temper. This last qualifica- 
 tion is the most important. If a husband is not amiable, 
 dear me! what a wretched woman his bride must be! 
 Girls should see if their suitor is good tempered, and if 
 he is not, have nothing to say to him. If a man is bad 
 tempered to his sister or mother, be 8ure he will be still 
 more ^ to his wife, because his wife is more completely 
 in his power. As a young man treats his mother and 
 his sister, he will treat his wife. Young ladies! take 
 this as an unfailing test, from your friend, Kate. 
 
 M. de Clery has a fine temper ; and as he is also very 
 rich, and a sincere believer in Christianity, Isabel will 
 
THE SOITTIIERNER AT HOME. 321 
 
 make a good match, and doubtless be very happy in the 
 dangerous lottery of matrimony. But I am in tears as 
 I write, at the thought of losing her; and the dear 
 colonel looks through tearful eyes upon her, and kissing 
 her, bids " God's blessing on her." It is a hard struggle 
 for the father, though he desires the union. 
 
 The marriage of Isabel will change all our plans for 
 the summer. The whole wedding party will proceed, 
 soon after the nuptials, to the North, and the bridegroom 
 and bride will embark for Europe. You ask what will 
 become of me? A very sensible question, good Mr. 
 . With Isabel's engagement yesterday, my voca- 
 tion as governess went. The future is all before me 
 where to choose. But the question of the future remains 
 to be settled after we return from the city, where, as I 
 said, we go to-morrow, to be absent a week. It is pro- 
 bable I shall accompany the bridal party North, and 
 take the opportunity of visiting the humble home of my 
 childhood, amid the green hills of New England — for, 
 with all my attachment to the South, and the warm- 
 hearted Southern people, my heart, 
 
 "Dear New England, turns ever to thee." 
 
 P. S. My next letter will be from New Orleans, from 
 which I hope to write you something interesting. 
 
 21 Kate. 
 
322 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 LETTER XL. 
 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 This is the first moment which I can call "my 
 own," since I arrived in this splendid bedlam of a city, 
 the diurnal roar of which, although it is nearly eleven 
 o'clock at night, has not yet ceased. Carriages are 
 swiftly rattling past, over the rocky streets, taking thea- 
 tre and party-goers home; the night-policeman's staff 
 echoes hollowly on the banquette, as he signalizes to his 
 fellow-guardians of the city ; the wild song of a group of 
 bacchanals swells not unmusically up into the air, and 
 penetrates my open window; while from an opposite 
 drawing-room comes the. rich soprano voice of some 
 maiden singing at the piano^ — perhaps to a late-lingering 
 lover. 
 
 Fatigued with the sweet excitement of the day in 
 choosing her bridal attire, Isabel sleeps softly within the 
 snowy folds of the lace musquito bar (which guards every 
 bed in this climate) ; and as excitement always renders 
 me wakeful, I embrace the hour till midnight to give you 
 some idea of this great city of the South — this magnifi- 
 ficent key of the Mississippi, which stands, as Constanti- 
 nople at the entrance of the Bosphorus, the gate of a 
 commercial interior, the value of which ''no man can 
 number." 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 323 
 
 In mj last letter, dated at the sugar estate of M. de 
 Clerj, I briefly stated the happy engagement of my dear 
 pupil Isabel to young Isdiore, his son, and that we were 
 to come to the city to make preparations for the wed- 
 ding. 
 
 At first it was determined that we should go down in 
 one of the handsome packets that daily descend the 
 river ; but it was finally decided that we should take the 
 carriages, and drive down by the Levee road, the dis- 
 tance being easily accomplished in two or three hours. 
 At six o'clock in the morning, therefore, the horses were 
 at the door, and as we had breakfast early, in order to 
 take advantage of the cool air of the early day, we were 
 soon on our way, rolling smoothly along over one of the 
 most delightful of roads. 
 
 I have already mentioned the novelty and beauty of 
 both of the green shores of the Mississippi, — how a ver- 
 dant embankment five feet high borders each side, to 
 prevent overflows; and how within this embankment is 
 the river-road, following in and out every curve of the 
 embanked shore, and level as a race-course track. Thus, 
 one tiding along this road has constantly the green 
 bank, or Levee, on one side, with the mile-wide river 
 flowing majestically by, bearing huge steamers past on 
 its tawny bosom. On the other hand are hedges sepa- 
 rating gardens, lawns, cottages, villas, and emerald cane- 
 fields, with groups of live-oaks, magnolias, lemon, and 
 banana trees interspersed. For miles, a,ll the day long, 
 the traveler can ride through a scene of beauty and ever 
 lively interest. At no moment is he out of sight of the 
 water, with its moving fleets, and the opposite shore 
 beautiful with residences, groves, and gardens; at no mo- 
 
324 THE siixNY south; or, 
 
 ment is he not passing the tasteful ahode and grounds 
 of some planter, bordering the road-side. 
 
 If this drive is so attractive to one on the land, 
 what must the scenery appear to the eyes of the passen- 
 gers on steamers sailing from sunrise to sunset through 
 it ? But I cannot attempt to convey to you a just con- 
 ception of these gorgeous river coasts of Louisiana. It 
 is not the charming landscape alone that lends them 
 their attraction to a northern eye, but the delicious 
 climate, which bathes every thing, and in which every 
 object seems to float. 
 
 You may judge that our ride towards the city was 
 greatly enjoyed by me. I could not help, at the time, 
 feeling a sensation of awe steal over me, as I looked from 
 the carriao-e window and saw the level of the river higher 
 than we were ; for we had to rise up in the carriage as 
 w^e rode along to overloolc the Levee, when w^e could 
 see that the river was within a foot even with it on 
 the outer side, while the road over w^hich our wheels 
 rolled was four feet lower than its surface on the inner 
 side ; in a word, we were riding with a wall of water, 
 kept from overwhelming us, and the fields, villas, and 
 whole country, only by the interposing bank of the Le- 
 vee, from four to six feet in height, and yet this guard 
 of heaped earth was for hundreds of leagues enough to 
 confine the monarch of waters within his bounds, so that 
 the people dwelt in security upon his borders. 
 
 There are, however, times of terror, when the vast 
 river, swelling to unwonted height, presses with irresis- 
 tible power against some weaker part of this barrier, 
 and forces a passage into the road beneath. At first, 
 the breach may not be larger than a stream of water 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 325 
 
 from a liose, and can easily be stopped with cotton-bales, 
 or bags of earth, if at once applied. Eut when at night 
 one of these crevices (which they call here ''crevasses," 
 when they become large) begins to form unseen by any 
 watchful eye, it rapidly enlarges, till what at first could 
 have been stopped by a schoolboy's dam, in half an hour 
 becomes strong enough to turn a wheel, and in an hour 
 plunges a roaring cataract twenty yards wide, rushing 
 like a mill-race, and deluging road, gardens, fields, and 
 pastures. The thunder of its fall, at length, awakes the 
 planter or his sleepy slaves ; the alarm-bell is rung out, 
 as if for fire, and the whole coast is soon awake and alive. 
 One plantation bell after another takes up the note 
 of terror, and for miles is heard their afi-righted clamor, 
 accompanied by the shouts of hundreds of slaves, hasten- 
 ing from all quarters to the scene of danger; for the 
 peril of a crevasse is 2, common peril to all, for only stop- 
 ping the incipient Niagara can save the whole region 
 down to the Gulf, for a thousand square miles, from 
 overflowing and ruinous devastation. 
 
 The scene at the stopping of a crevasse is only equalled 
 by that at putting out a conflagration. The constant 
 arrival, spurring at mad speed, of planters, followed by 
 gangs of half-naked Africans, armed with spades and 
 gunny-bags filled with dirt, the loud commands, the louder 
 response, the tramp of hoofs and of men's feet, the 
 darkness of the night, the glare of torches, and the'roar 
 of the ceaselessly plunging and enlarging torrent, as 
 described to me by Isidore de Clery, must be both su- 
 blime and fearful. Imagine the reservoir on Fairmount 
 to burst its sides some fine night, and the scenes that 
 would follow in the neighborhood of the path its wild 
 
826 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 waters would make, in the efforts of the people to stop 
 them, and you will be able to form some picture in your 
 mind of a crevasse^ and its destructive effects in the level 
 country of Louisiana. 
 
 Not long ago a crevasse opened in the Levee not far 
 from New Orleans, and became so alarming that steamers, 
 laden with hundreds of men, sailed from the city for the 
 place, and it was not finally stopped until fifty leagues 
 square of the richest portion of the country had become 
 submerged, and a hundred sugar planters ruined. 
 
 Nevertheless, in the face of all these facts, we rode 
 calmly and securely on, with the river wall four feet 
 higher than our road, thinking of any thing but cre- 
 vasses, and enjoying the scenery that was ever changing 
 its features, and increasing in beauty at every change. 
 
 Our cortege consisted of two carriages, in one of which 
 rode the colonel, Isabel, and the senior M. de Clery, and 
 Mademoiselle Marie Yictoire La Blanche, his niece, a 
 beautiful, olive-cheeked, dark-eyed Louisianaise, who was 
 to be one of Isabel's bridesmaids. In another carriage, 
 which was an open phseton, was Isidore, the happy and 
 handsome affianc^ and Miss Conyngham. Why they 
 placed this young gentleman under my charge, separat 
 ing him for the drive from Isabel, I can't tell ; unless it 
 was a pretty piece of tyranny, allowable, perhaps. At 
 any rate, it was the plan of M. de Clery, the senior, who 
 said, " The young folks will be enough in each other's 
 society after they are married, so let them ride in differ- 
 ent carriages now. Miss Kate will be so kind as to keep 
 the young gentleman in proper decorum." 
 
 Dear me ! I — a young, giddy girl of twenty scarcely, 
 to be selected by two gray-headed gentlemen — to be the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 827 
 
 guardian of a young gentleman of three-and-twenty, as 
 handsome as Adonis ! So, what with answering Isidore's 
 hundred and one questions, all about what I knew of 
 Isabel ever since I had known her, and looking at the 
 scenery, I was kept very busy, — for the scenery con- 
 stantly challenged my attention, and the lover would 
 constantly talk of Belle. By the time we reached the 
 city I was half in love with him myself; and I then re- 
 collected how that Isabel had said to me, smilingly, when 
 I was seated in the carriage, 
 
 *'Take care of your heart dear Kate!" 
 
 But I hear an awful clamor throughout the city that 
 compels me to stop. A deep-mouthed tocsin is ringing 
 out "Fire! fire! fire!" as plain as a human voice could 
 utter it ; and a score of lesser bells reply, even as a huge 
 ban-dog, alarmed in the night by a prowling burglar, 
 opens his deep-mouthed bay, while Tray, Blanche, and 
 Sweetheart, and all the little dogs, in every key, chime 
 in, in confused, discordant uproar ; so are all the bells 
 of the city clamoring, and the streets, which had begun 
 to sink into midnight quiet, are once more thundering 
 with the artillery-like wheels of engines, hastening, amid 
 a Babel of voices, to the scene of conflagration, the light 
 of which, reflected from an opposite tower, already glares 
 redly and balefully into my window. 
 
 I will now say "Good Night," but not without a 
 heartfelt prayer for those who shall be made houseless 
 and destitute by this fire, which rages more and more 
 terribly, lighting up all the city roofs like a burning 
 crater. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 K. C. 
 
328 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLI. 
 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 The impressions which are made upon one's mind 
 and memory on first going into a large city, are indel- 
 lible. I shall never forget mine on approaching the city 
 in our carriage, about three hours after leaving Chateau 
 de Clery. 
 
 New Orleans is wholly unlike any other American 
 metropolis. Its aspect is foreign, and Erench decidedly. 
 When within six miles, we entered the pretty suburbs of 
 Carrolton, where the road is a continuous street until 
 lost in the labyrinth of the city avenues. 
 
 Instead of continuing along this road we alighted at 
 the railway depot, leaving our carriages to i^eturn home 
 with the coachmen, our intention being to go back by 
 the river. The cars run to the city every half hour, and' 
 our party had no sooner got seated than we were off like 
 an eagle shrieking as he flies. Oh, what dreadful noises 
 those horrid steam whistles make ! So shrill and loud 
 and terrific, that I did not wonder to see cows, horses, 
 mules, dogs, ducks, geese, and chickens turn, scamper, 
 fly, trot, gallop, and scatter to the right and left in con- 
 sternation. 
 
 There were three Indians in the next car, one of 
 whom, in an old scarlet frock coat, fancifully fringed, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 329 
 
 placed his hands to his mouth in rapid succession, and 
 echoed the cry of the engine v.histle ahnost as shrilly. 
 We all looked into the car to see what it was. He stood 
 up and repeated the cry, saying with an air of tipsy 
 satisfaction — 
 
 " War-whoop ! 3Ie war-whoop — he war-whoop. " 
 What more he might have said was abruptly cut off 
 by the conductor pushing him by the shoulder, and 
 thrusting him with a huge oath roughly into a car still 
 farther forAvard; and driving two patient- looking Indian 
 women laden with baskets after him. Ah. for the poor 
 Indian ! 
 
 * * * "Where once he trod, 
 Lord of the earth and free as air, • 
 He now creeps cowering like a cur, 
 
 * * -X- * ^ ^ 
 
 Cursed of the white man, and not where 
 
 To lay his head where once he reigned a king." 
 
 The Indian is every where the same from Maine to 
 Louisiana. They look alike, their pursuits are alike, 
 their degradation equal. These were wandering rem- 
 nants of the Choctaw tribe ; for many linger about the 
 scenes of their father's deeds and resting places of their 
 bones, and support their precarious existence by fishing 
 and basket-making. I have seen many of them in the 
 city since, going about selling little bundles of sassafras 
 root or herbs gathered in the woods. The women never 
 smile, look sickly and suffering ; while the men are gaily 
 dressed and keep in a state of lordly drunkenness, the 
 only affinity to "nobility" left to these poor lords of the 
 forest. 
 
330 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 I fear America has much sin lying at her door for her 
 neglect of her Indian children. 
 
 Our car contained a strange medley. Directly in front 
 of me sat a handsome yellow "lady," her head sur- 
 mounted by an orange and scaidet plaid handkerchief, 
 bound about it Turkish-turban fashion ; a style that pre- 
 vails here among the Creole servants. She had in her 
 ears a pair of gold ear-rings, as large as a half-dollar, 
 plain and massive; she wore a necklace of gold beads, 
 hanging from which was a cornelian cross, the most 
 beautiful thing I ever saw ; upon her neck was a richly- 
 worked black lace scarf ; her dress was plain colored 
 silk, made in the costliest manner. Her olive hands, 
 which had very tapering fingers and remarkably oval 
 nails, were covered with rings, chiefly plain gold ones. 
 In one hand she held a handsome parasol, and the other 
 fondled a snow-white French poodle upon her lap, said 
 poodle having the tips of its ears tied with knots of pink 
 ribbon, and a collar of pink silk quilled, and made like 
 a ruff, while the end of its tail was adorned with a bow 
 of blue ribbon, in the tastiest style ; and, as if his poo- 
 dleship were not sufiiciently decorated to be taken to the 
 city to visit its town cousins, it had a nice bow of red 
 satin ribbon tied about each of its four ancles. This 
 luxurious little fellow took it quite in high dudgeon 
 that I should scan him so closely, and putting his little 
 pink feet upon her shoulder, he shot fire out of his deep- 
 set black eyes, and began to yelp at me most outrage- 
 ously. 
 
 "-A has, Fidele, fi doncT' exclaimed his mistress, in 
 certainly one of the most mimical voices in the world ; and 
 gently patting the ferocious little aristocrat on the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 331 
 
 shoulder, she tried to quell its expressions of hostility 
 towards me. Finding that it would not be pacified, she, 
 turning round, and fixing upon me a pair of magnificent 
 eyes, and a face of surprising and unlooked-for beauty 
 — a strange and indescribable sort of beauty — she said: 
 
 " Pardon, Ma'mselle ! La b^te s'est mal comportd 
 envers vous. Tranquilliez vous, Fidele ! Ne vous in- 
 quietez pas !" 
 
 Here she kissed her spiteful little favorite, and gradu- 
 ally soothed its irascibility ; but it would occasionally, 
 nevertheless, glance at me suspiciously, and utter 2i petite 
 growl in its little white fleecy throat. The seat on my left 
 contained a French gentleman, aged and thin, with a 
 huge gray moustache overshadowing his large mouth. 
 He wore a long nankin blouse (a sort of loose frock-coat) 
 and a yellow vest with bright buttons, gray trowsers and 
 drab gaiters — altogether a peculiar costume, especially 
 with his hat, which had a brim so narrow that two flies 
 could not walk arm-in-arm around it, while the gray, 
 weather-worn crown rose upward into the air above him 
 like a rusty stove-pipe. The intense gravity of his coun- 
 tenance attracted my attention. He was as grave and 
 dignified as a whole bench of supreme judges ; yet he 
 carried in a little paste-board box, with slits cut at in- 
 tervals therein, a little, half-fledged mocking-bird ; car- 
 ried it as tenderly as a little child would have done ; 
 watched and guarded it against the jolts of the cars, the 
 sunshine in the Avindow, and the draught of air when the 
 door was left open by the conductor. His whole heart 
 seemed to be wrapped up in that miserable little bird, 
 which sat trembling in the cage so pitifully, that I felt 
 
332 THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 like asking him to let me take it out and nestle it between 
 the palms of my hands. But hear him talk to it ! 
 
 " Pauvre petite ! Ah, bonne, bonnette ! Yous avez 
 bon voyage. Voyez vous les arbres ? Voyez vous les 
 jolis champs ? Voyez vous les jolis oiseaux ?" 
 
 He would then hold the little wretch up at the window 
 and point out the trees, and fields, and flying birds to it, 
 exactly as if it could understand every word he said, and 
 vastly enjoyed the ^'bon voyage" and the sight from the 
 window. 
 
 The cage had evidently been made by him, impromptu, 
 with his penknife, and was a very ingenious affair ; and 
 in the top of it was stuck a small rose-bud and sprig of 
 thistle. The little bird was evidently his pride and joy. 
 He had perhaps caught it in the fields, and was taking it 
 home to his grand-children, or had purchased it for some 
 favorite. 
 
 It was an interesting sight to see a tall, warlike, mus- 
 tachioed man thus giving his whole mind to such a little 
 thing as the poor, chirping, crying young one in the cage ; 
 but it was beautiful to contemplate the scene. It showed 
 a good heart and kind ; that he was affectionate and do- 
 mestic, and must love children and all others of God's 
 creatures that are helpless. I regarded him with respect. 
 
 Finding the little bird did not seem to enjoy the 
 scenery, he took a piece of cake from his pocket and 
 began to tempt it to eat a crumb from the end of his 
 finger, w^hich he thrust into the cage. ^' Mangez, pe- 
 tite ! Mangez le bon gateau I" 
 
 In a few minutes the cars stopped at his place, and he 
 arose, and covering the cage carefully with his handker- 
 chief, left the cars with it ; and, as we started on, I saw 
 
THE SOUTHERNER, AT HOME. 333 
 
 him approach the gate of a pretty Creole cottage, half 
 hidden in grape vines. Several children and their youth- 
 ful mother came to meet him. '* Voyez, voyez !" he cried, 
 with great glee, holding up the cage. " Voila I'oiseau, 
 mes enfants. Nous chantons comme les anges !" and, 
 opening the little cage, he was showing them his prize, 
 when the prisoner made a spring from between his thumb 
 and finger, and fluttering its little winglets, went sailing 
 through the air four feet from the ground, and threaten- 
 ing to knock itself against it every minute. 
 
 One general outcry escaped the confounded group, 
 one double deep base mingled with altissimos; and as 
 the cars were whirling us beyond view, I saw the whole 
 party, headed by the tall, gray-headed French grandpa, 
 start in full cry after the hopping and flying truant. 
 
 But I reserve the rest of the ride into the city for my 
 next. Till then, faithfully 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate 
 
334 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLII. 
 
 St. Louis Hotel, New Orleans. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 My last I closed somewhat abruptly, as you per- 
 ceived, in the midst of a description of our railroad ride 
 to this city. I will now resume the notes of my journey 
 where I broke off, as I wish you to have a distinct im- 
 pression of the scenes in the entrance to New Orleans, 
 by the cars. 
 
 As we approached the city through a level landscape, 
 level as a lake, we flew past now a garden on this side, 
 now a Spanish-looking little villa on that, the gardens 
 richly foliaged with lemon and banana trees, and far 
 over-stretching verandahs shut in by curtains to keep 
 out the sun from the piazzas. Such gardens and villas 
 one after another in great numbers we passed for a mile 
 or so, when the houses grew more numerous, the gardens 
 narrower and narrower, and shops and small tenements 
 were crowding together, where once had stood the orange, 
 lemon, and banana tree. Side-walks of brick, as we 
 darted forward, now took the place of green way-side 
 paths by walls and fences, and stone pavements were 
 substituted for natural dirt roads. People began to grow 
 more numerous on the walks, carts laden with brick and 
 lumber, carts laden with vegetables and butcher's meat, 
 bread carts, and ice carts, and omnibuses (those un- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 835 
 
 sightly vehicular monstrosities) rolled, gallopped, rattled, 
 thundered, raced, and rumbled past, and cross-street 
 wise, making it impossible almost to hear one's self speak 
 for the noise. Onward our car wheels bore us, deeper 
 and deeper into the living heart of the city. Nothing 
 but small shops were now to be seen on either hand, with 
 purchasing throngs going in and coming out of them, 
 while myriads of children seemed to swarm about the 
 doors, crawl along the curb-stones, paddle in the gutters, 
 and yell miscellaneously everywhere. I never saw so 
 many children in my life. Some were black, some not so 
 black, some yellow, some golden skinned, some tawny, 
 some delicate milk and gamboge color, and some pure 
 white, at least, such spots of their faces as the dirt suf- 
 fered to be visible, seemed to promise an Anglo-saxon 
 complexion underneath. The major part, however, were 
 olive brown, and plainly of French extraction; and I 
 could hear the bright black-eyed little urchins jabbering 
 French, to a marvel of correct pronunciation that would 
 have amazed a school girl. 
 
 At length the houses grew more stately, the streets 
 more genteel, the crowds more elegantly attired, and the 
 cars stopped, and we were in New Orleans ! 
 
 In an instant we were besieged by a very great num- 
 ber of polite gentlemen with whips in their hands and 
 eager visages thrust up to the window. 
 
 " Fiacre, madame !" " Hack, sir !" *' Carriage, ma'am." 
 "Will yer ladyship's bright eyes jlst look at my iligant 
 haack?" insinuated a snub-nosed son of Green Erin, 
 with an old fur cap cocked on his head, the visor behind, 
 giving him a superlatively impudent look. 
 
 Seeing me app^-ently hesitate, he added with an elo- 
 
836 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 quent intonation in his rich brogue. "It is vilvit 
 kushioned, m'im, and glass windies intirelj, Miss, and 
 I've got the naatest tame dat'll take ye where ye wist in 
 no time at all, at all !" 
 
 At this juncture Isidore came to conduct me to a 
 carriage with the rest of our party. As we descended 
 the steps of the car, a Chinese, in his small tea-cup of a 
 blue cap, presented to my irresistible temptation, as he 
 thought, some beautiful kites made of blue, yellow, green, 
 and crimson tissue paper in the shape of superb butter- 
 flies. They were two feet across the wings, and ele- 
 gantly constructed of light wire bent into the desired 
 shape, and covered with the paper. He asked but 
 twenty-five cents a piece, and they looked so invitingly 
 pretty, that I was half tempted to buy one for myself, 
 recollecting my girlish days, when I used to fly kites, 
 fish, and play ball with my brothers ; but before I made 
 up my mind to this speculation, a slender sloe-eyed 
 quadroon girl of sixteen, with a superb smile, off'ered me 
 a delicious bouquet, from a basket filled with them, which 
 she was adroitly balancing on her head. The rival John- 
 China-man interposed one of his handsome kites between 
 my eyes and the bouquet, and while I was bewildered 
 which to choose, a Frenchman thrust nearer my face 
 than all, his forefinger, on which was perched a splendid 
 parrot, with a nose like the Duke of Wellington's. 
 
 "Puy de kitee, Meesee ! twenty-vive cen'," eagerly 
 urged the Chinese. 
 
 "Mussier ne veu' 'pas le bouquet pour mamsel?" 
 softly and musically entreated the girl, of Isidore, in her 
 Creole patois. 
 
 " Buy pretty Pollee. Achetez mofi joli oiseau I" 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 337 
 
 ^'Pollj wantee cracker," screamed tlie parrot in my 
 ear. 
 
 Thanks to the carriage-step at hand, by which I was 
 enabled to secure a flight from the scene; and Isidore 
 laughingly handed me the bouquet, which he had pur- 
 chased of the quadroon, w^ho thanked him with a bril- 
 liant smile. 
 
 Having purchased one of the persevering Chinaman's 
 beautiful kites to take North, as a curiosity for Yankee 
 boys, and implored the parrot-man to take his noisy, 
 squalling, crooked-beaked, saucy-eyed, knowing-headed 
 bird out of my sight, the carriage, at length, moved on 
 out of the throng ; and after a few minutes' rattling 
 through rough paved streets, narrow and foreign-look- 
 ing, we reached the St. Louis hotel, an edifice that 
 looks like a superb Parisian palace — and a palace it is, 
 as we experience in all its internal appointments and 
 comfortable elegances of arrangement. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 22 
 
338 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLIII. 
 
 Hotel, St. Louis. 
 
 Dear Sir : — How shall I describe to you this city, 
 so as to convey to you any thing like an adequate idea 
 of it ? It is unlike any other city in the Union, being 
 foreign in air, in customs, and mainly in population. 
 Level as the water level of the river, above the surface 
 of which it is elevated but a few inches, it extends for 
 five miles along a grand bend of the river, which, dou- 
 bling on its course, sweeps at this point northward, and 
 then southward again, forming a majestic yoke, or letter 
 U, and hence its name Crescent City. The front of the 
 city is defended from floods by the Levee, which is raised 
 a few feet higher than the general plane of its site. 
 This Levee is the grandest quay in the world. Tyre 
 nor Carthage, Alexandria nor Genoa, those aforetime 
 imperial metropoles of merchant princes, boasted no quay 
 like the Levee of New Orleans. 
 
 Picture to your mind's eye an esplanade or open front, 
 a quarter of a mile broad, shaped like a new moon, its 
 two horns four miles apart ! Behold this noble space 
 built up on one side by blocks of lofty brick or stone- 
 stores, warehouses, steam-presses, hotels, cotton and 
 sugar magazines, in which the mightiest energies, talents, 
 and riches of commerce have their fields of daily activity. 
 Interminably, farther than the eye can follow them, in 
 their recession in the distance, they extend, range sue- 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 339 
 
 ceeding to range. Opposite tliis league-front of stores 
 lie the various vessels which are the winged servants of 
 the princely merchants, who occupy these commercial 
 palaces. The whole Levee bank, from horn to horn of 
 the magnificent crescent, is lined w^ith shipping and 
 steamers. 
 
 First are the cotton ships, which extend three in a 
 tier for a mile and a half in unbroken line, their inter- 
 mingled masts presenting the aspect of a wintry forest 
 stripped of its leaves. I have been along the whole 
 Levee in a carriage, and seen all this with my own eyes, 
 and as I gazed I wondered at the sublime spectacle. A 
 half league mass of ships! those proud ocean eagles 
 which swept the clouds with their snowy crests, which 
 rose defiant to the down pressing storm, tossed the ocean 
 spray upon their necks, as the horse of the desert flings 
 his mane, whose path has been sublimely held amid tem- 
 pests and displays of the Almighty's power, whose swift- 
 ness, glory, and beauty of motion and form mocked that 
 of the sea-bird — to see these once free and independent 
 creatures, (ships to me always seem living things with 
 life in them, like the wheels in Ezekiel's vision,) — to see 
 those superb ocean messengers stripped of their white 
 plumage, tied by the bit to wooden wharves, like newly 
 captured elephants to strong stakes — to see them secured 
 and motionless, fast bound in chains of iron, prisoners 
 and captives, all their winged swiftness and their late 
 ocean freedom changed into captivity, made me feel sad. 
 I gazed on them with pity and sympathy. Yet, cap- 
 tives as they were, tied in threes as I beheld them, 
 divested of their white wings as they were, there was 
 still left much of the spirit of their former grandeur. 
 
340 THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 Their dark hulls, huge and massive, rising high out of 
 the water and overtopping the Levee houses, and which 
 I had to gaze up at, their curving bows and tall bul- 
 warks, their noble outlines and vast proportions still 
 lent them a dignity which commanded respect. 
 
 "Ah, brave ships," I said, "though bound fast now in 
 port like caged lions, the day will come again, when, laden 
 with the silvery fleece of this sunny land, and the glit- 
 tering crystals of its emerald sugar fields, ye will once 
 more spread your broad wings to the breeze of heaven, 
 your now motionless keels will once more cleave the 
 blue waves of the illimitable ocean, and again you shall 
 try your oaken strength with the tornado, and do mighty 
 battle with the billows. Conquering and still conquer- 
 ing your pathway, you shall traverse the farthest seas; 
 some of you penetrate the icy Baltic, to lay your trea- 
 sures at the feet of the Russian Czar ; some of you pass 
 beneath the frowning shadow of Gibraltar, and win your 
 way to far Egypt, and unlade your precious burden on 
 the quay of the city, where once reigned Joseph and the 
 Pharaohs ; some of you less ambitious, shall follow the 
 curving shores of our vast republic, and passing the 
 Vineyard and the Capes of New England, shall fold your 
 canvass within sound of the church bell of my mother's 
 native town. 
 
 As we rode slowly along, gazing on the poor tied up 
 ships, I noticed that they bore flags of every land; for a 
 sea captain had died that morning, and all the vessels in 
 port had their colors at half mast, a very touching ex- 
 pression of nautical sorrow ; for a flag not completely 
 hoisted, is, in the symbolic language of seamen, in- 
 verted, a signal of distress at sea, of sorrow in port. My 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 34] 
 
 old friend, the Bengal captain, (who has gone to sea 
 again, and is now away off in India,) carried this half 
 masting idea so far, that being in mourning for a rela- 
 tion, with black crape on a w^hite General Jackson hat, 
 he always wore the strip just half way up his hat, (half- 
 mast, as he called it,) with a streamer half a foot long, 
 floating out behind. The dear good old tease of a Ben- 
 gal tiger ! I wonder if he will ever write me that long 
 letter he promised me he would do, and tell me all about 
 his adventures in those far away lands and seas. If he 
 
 does keep his promise, Mr. , the letter is yours to 
 
 put in print. 
 
 Some of the ships were Swedish, blunt, square-bowed, 
 high-shouldered, buffalo-looking hulks, with white-headed 
 and fair-skinned men on board, in blue and red woolen 
 caps. Their pretty flag was a white cross on a blue 
 ground, with a scarlet field in the upper corner, orna- 
 mented with a small white St. Andrews's cross, (the let- 
 ter X.) I thought of sweet Jenny Lind, as I looked at 
 the flag of her country, which I felt would have brought 
 tears of joy into her eyes, to have seen it here, so far 
 away from her home-land. 
 
 How much Sweden owes to Jenny Lind in song. Miss 
 Bremer in letters, and Thorwaldsen in sculpture! But 
 for these three gifted children of her hills, Sweden, as 
 before their birth, would be obscurely known to the 
 world. But they have placed her first in music, first in 
 letters, first in art; so that now she takes her proper in- 
 tellectual rank with the cultivated nations of Europe. 
 If three persons can give glory to their native land in 
 the eyes of the world, how carefully ought every ind? 
 
842 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 vidual to live, that he may peradventure reflect honor 
 upon his own nation ! No one is insignificant. 
 
 There were four Swedish ships, and two Norwegian 
 barques, showing in their flag a large blue cross on a red 
 ground, the flag of Ole Bull's land. A Portuguese brig, 
 with her pretty green and white striped colors, I also 
 saw. There were half a dozen Russian ships, with their 
 flags striped with red, white, and blue. The most part 
 of the vessels displayed the star-spangled banner, flashing 
 and glittering above the Yankee decks, as saucily as though 
 it felt itself at Lome on its own soil. The red, sanguinary- 
 looking ensign of old England, with its double cross in 
 one corner of a blue ground, floated proudly and gloomily 
 above full a hundred ships ; for, next to the commerce 
 of our own ships, that of England stands confessed. 
 The tri-colored flag of France was visible here and there, 
 and the yellow and red colors of Spain flaunted above 
 inferior-looking vessels. 
 
 Of the Yankee ships, nearly all were from New Y^ork, 
 and ports north of it, the half being from New England. 
 The handsomest ships which I saw were from Bath, 
 Maine; and a captain, to whom the colonel spoke, told 
 me that the best ships in the world are built on the Ken- 
 nebec river in Maine. Those which I savr and admired, 
 were certainty models of grace, majesty, and strength. 
 They looked like peaceful frigates, tauied down, and 
 broken into the merchant service. After leaving the 
 long range of ships, we came to the part of the Levee 
 where the Mississippi, Ohio, Missouri, and all Northern 
 and interior steamers moor. For half a mile it was a 
 grand display of snow-white hulls, round-topped wheel- 
 houses, tall, black, iron chimneys, some belching forth 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 343 
 
 clouds of murky smoke, tliat rolled and rolled over the 
 city like threatening thunder-clouds, only more awful- 
 looking. I never saw anything so dreadfully sable as 
 these volumes of smoke, which rise from furnaces crammed 
 with pine knots and tar-barrels. 
 
 After the steamboats, come the small Spanish and 
 Creole coasters, and the Texas and Florida trading 
 schooners, which are very numerous, with swarthy crews 
 in red shirts, knife in belt, and with huge beards. Then 
 we came to the Ocean steamers, those mammoth sea-dan- 
 dies that go steaming about the w^orld smoking their rusty 
 sheet-iron cigars, and leading a very fast life, much to 
 the scandal of the sober-going merchantmen. These 
 steamers, with their jet-black aspect, and odd-looking, 
 shark-headed bows and huge dimensions, have a very de- 
 moniacal appearance ; and if I had been a timid person 
 at all, I should have hesitated about venturing within 
 their capacious power, recollecting how Jonah once came 
 too near a sea-monster of a similar species, and was swal- 
 lowed whole. 
 
 Nevertheless we went on board ; but as they were tak- 
 ing in coal with scores of wheel-barrows, everything was 
 dusty, noisy, and disagreeable ; and painters being at 
 work in the cabin, all things were upside down, like 
 a New England scouring day. So we beat a retreat, and 
 continued our ride two miles further, again coming upon 
 a chain of ships nearly as extensive as the first we had 
 seen ; both sides of the city being flanked by these wooden 
 marine walls and forests of masts. 
 
 Imagine every ship engaged in lading, or unlading, 
 every steamer discharging, or taking in freight and pas- 
 sengers, and every third one letting oflf noisy steam and 
 
344 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 belching sraoke ; while steamboats constantly arrive 
 from the river above, and round to and land, or depart 
 amid the roars of escape pipes, and the clamor of bells. 
 Imagine four thousand drays aiding in loading and un- 
 loading these thousand vessels, and moving in all direc- 
 tions along the Levee, till its whole surface is alive with a 
 ceaseless maelstrom of motion, accompanied by a noise 
 of hoofs, wheels, and voices, almost deafening in their 
 aggregated thunderings. Imagine one broad field of 
 such commercial life, four miles in unbroken extent, and 
 you will have some idea of the ''Levee" at New Orleans. 
 No city on earth can present such a striking scene, — and 
 all at one glance of the eye I No quay-view anywhere 
 could convey such an impression to the mind of the ob- 
 server, of the power, and might, and action, and energy 
 of commerce. 
 
 But as I gazed upon all this, I could not help recalling 
 the terrible chapter in Revelations addressed to Babylon, 
 " that great city wherein w^as made rich all that had 
 ships in the sea, by reason of her costliness." 
 
 For her luxuries and sins, Babylon was terribly judged ! 
 Will this city remember God, and glorify Him "w^ho 
 maketh the merchants of the earth to wax rich," when 
 they say, " What city is like unto this great city ? Shall 
 she also be made desolate, and her crown be removed 
 and cast into the dust ?" God forbid ! Let Religion go 
 hand in hand with, and sanctify Commerce, and this city 
 need not fear what otherwise it should apprehend, — the 
 doom of all those hitherto which have forgotten from 
 whose Hand " cometh all prosperity." 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 K. C. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 345 
 
 LETTER XLIV. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 This is the last day we are to remain in this Franco- 
 American Metropolis of the South. What with shopping 
 with dear Bell, in assisting her in making bridal pur- 
 chases — with riding at twilight on the magnificent "shell 
 road," with visiting the cathedrals, and churches, and 
 public edifices, and above all, for interest, the old ceme- 
 teries of the city, my time has been fully occupied. 
 
 Our hotel is in the French quarter of the city, and a 
 grand, French Tuilleries' looking affiiir it is. It is 
 under the superintendance of Mr. Mudge, who is a native 
 of New England, was formerly a dry-goods merchant in 
 Portland, and being unsuccessful in business, came out 
 here many years ago to make his fortune, and, unlike 
 many who go from home for this purpose, he has emi- 
 nently succeeded. From being only a salaried assistant 
 in the office of the St. Charles, he rose by his probity, 
 industry, talents, and genoag, to become its proprietor ; 
 and now is manager temporarily of this until the St. 
 Charles is rebuilt. He is a gentleman of fine manners, 
 a pleasant countenance, and has a most interesting and 
 charming family. To manage a hotel now-a-days, re- 
 quires very much the sort of talent requisite in a com- 
 mander of a man-of-war or a military officer, and this 
 ability Mr. Mudge possesses. Hotel managing is a pro- 
 
346 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 fession, and a highly honorable one. It requires training, 
 talent, nay, genius. The first hotel started in the United 
 States, on the modern plan, was the Tremont. Its clerks 
 became managers of others, till nov/, in all the best hotels, 
 the managers have either been educated to their oJB&ce at 
 the Tremont or Astor, (which sprung from the Tremont 
 under Mr. Stetson,) or by gentlemen who graduated at 
 one or the other of the "Hotel Universities." Those 
 large establishments are now regular colleges, and should 
 issue " diplomas" to their graduates. It is not now, as 
 it was formerly, that a man, who is not fit for any other 
 business, can keep a hotel. 
 
 Ail this knowledge I have got from hearing a conver- 
 sation between the colonel and one of the proprietors of 
 the house. Nothing can be more recherche, more su- 
 perb, more in perfection, than every appointment about 
 this noble house. It strikes me that Queen Victoria 
 could not entertain us better in Windsor Castle, than 
 Mr. Mudge does here. 
 
 I love to walk through the French streets, and look 
 into the prettily fixed-up shops, or sit in the drawing- 
 room window, and gaze out upon the streets, watching 
 the passers-by, and the people in the neighborhood. 
 Two-thirds of them are French, the gentlemen with mus- 
 taches, which seem to be worn universally here, and the 
 ladies in Parisian hats, and long lace veils, with dresses 
 very short, to exhibit their pretty feet, 
 
 "Like little mice peeping in and out," 
 
 as they trip along the banquette; which, by the way, is 
 the ordinary name here for side-walk. The French are 
 a very odd people. They don't seem to know or care 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 347 
 
 that anybody looks or listens. They talk and gesticu- 
 late in the most extravagantly ridiculous manner, and I 
 am infinitely amused a hundred times a-day at "vvhat 
 passes before me. 
 
 One old man comes out and sits in an arm-chair on 
 the banquette, and docs nothing but make little paper 
 cigars and smoke them, and read an old torn book, 
 through a pair of enormous, round-eyed, iron spectacles. 
 No matter who goes by, what goes on around him, there 
 he sits, the crowd passing and repassing him, as quiet 
 and unconcerned as if he were alone on Robinson Cru- 
 soe's island. At eleven o'clock, a little negress, in a 
 bright red 'kerchief bound tastefully about her brows, 
 brings him out on a waiter a bottle of claret and a little 
 tumbler. He drinks three glasses, and she retires, while 
 he resumes his smoking and reading the old book. Once 
 I saAV a priest stop and address him. The old man rose, 
 bowed politely, crossed himself, oifered the priest a cigar, 
 which was accepted; the priest bowed and went on, 
 while Monsieur, crossing his breast, bowed and reseated 
 himself, with a half smile on his old visage, as if the 
 brief interview with the priest had gratified him. 
 
 Not far from this person sits from morning to night, 
 in a shop door, a sallow, thin lady, engaged in working 
 a piece of embroidery. She has her soup and garlic 
 brought to her by a child, and eats her dinner in face of 
 the world with perfect indifi'erence. 
 
 The French seem to love "out doors." They turn 
 themselves, the whole population, from their doors at the 
 close of the afternoon, and sit on the banquette till bed- 
 time, talking, laughing, singing, and even eating their 
 suppers, if the banquette be wide enough. They are, as 
 
348 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 all say of the French, a gay, happy people, and seem to 
 be quite divested of all care for the morrow. It is our 
 American undue care for to-morrow, that makes the to- 
 day always so heavy. They make it bear its own weight 
 and to-morrow's, a double burden which our Saviour 
 wisely forbade us to put upon ourselves. A present is 
 the life of the French. 
 
 There are two distinct cities that make up New Or- 
 leans — the American and French. The former is so 
 much like a Northern city that I did not remain in it 
 much, although the most superb portion; but I took 
 kindly to the latter for its very novelty. In the French 
 part, few of the population speak English. Their lan- 
 guage, manners, customs, are preserved; and a Parisian 
 would think himself in a city of France, if he did not 
 cross Canal street, which is the Rubicon that separates 
 the American quarter from it. 
 
 In vralking through the French municipality, or dis- 
 trict, I could hardly realize that I was in my native 
 land. French names to streets — Rue Bien-ville, Rue 
 Royal, Rue Chartres ! French signs above the stores, and 
 within mustached Gallic visages of men, and dark-eyed 
 foreign-looking women, with smooth, raven hair dressed 
 a la Suisse; French architecture everywhere, and the 
 French tongue constantly heard by old and young, by 
 African and freemen! All these peculiarities made it 
 almost impossible for me not to fancy myself in Europe. 
 If I entered a shop Bes modes, I was addressed in French 
 by a smiling dame, or a polite Monsieur. If I asked a 
 direction in tlic street, I was answered in the same 
 tongue. If I entered a book store, I found in every 
 volume I took up the native language of Laf^iyctte. The 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 849 
 
 yellow fiacre-mcn called to tlicir horses in a patois of 
 the same language, and a woman at the corner of the 
 street offered me Boston apples, with a "Mam'sel, veut 
 elle des pommes ce matin?" 
 
 If I passed two gentleman conversing, I heard French ; 
 and the children shouted to each other in the same uni- 
 versal speech, much to the amazement undisguised of 
 Edith, who attended Bell, Monsieur Isidore, and me, in 
 our peramhulations, and who could not comprehend how 
 little barefooted wretches of six and seven years could 
 talk the language which "Missy Bella" had been three 
 years in learning with masters at an expense of hundreds 
 of dollars. 
 
 It seemed to her ignorance of things quite an unequal 
 distribution of gifts of Providence. On her return she 
 will probably excite the wonder of the whole Ethiopian 
 population of the plantation, by asseverating that she 
 heard in New Orleans little children talking French. I 
 
 do assure you, frankly confessing it, Mr. , that it 
 
 made me quite indignant to hear the little imps so inde- 
 pendently speaking the language without ever having 
 looked into a horrid grammar, and being wholly innocent 
 of dictionaries, who had never conjugated avoir nor f aire, 
 and knew no more of etre than they did of the 119th 
 Psalm. I felt like giving every one of them a good 
 whipping, thinking how many wakeful hours I had spent 
 on grammars and dictionaries, to learn what came to 
 them, as their walking did, by nature. We found that 
 the French spoken to us in the shops was not a little 
 different from the Parisian pronunciation. I noticed that 
 the Orleanois clip their words, do not speak the nasal 
 termination so full and distinct, and have a shriller in- 
 
350 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR 
 
 tonatlon tlirougliout. I should judge that the difference 
 in pronunciation between them and the Parisians to be 
 greater tlian between New Englanders and educated 
 Englishmen. As these are easily distinguished from one 
 another although saying the same words, so are the 
 Louisiana French to be easily distinguished from the 
 Parisian. 
 
 There are a good many French gentlemen here at 
 present who have taken prominent parts in the politics 
 of France, and who find French soil unsafe for their feet 
 just now. One of these expressed himself to me at table 
 yesterday with great animation about this country and 
 the society of New Orleans, with which, he said, he was 
 perfectly charmed. "There is a naivete and simple 
 grace in the ladies," he remarked, "that we see not in 
 France, at least not exactly like it. They are gentle, 
 yet proud; independent, yet, like the vine, seem to look 
 to the sterner sex for support; intelligent, yet indolent; 
 not much learned in books, yet irresistibly captivating 
 in conversation. They seem to combine," he added, 
 "the splendor and haughty bearing of the Spanish 
 women, with the tender loveliness of the Italian, the 
 bonhomie of the French, and the discretion and repose 
 of the English : a noble combination which would con- 
 stitute a perfect national character." 
 
 I agree with Monsieur de B so completely that 
 
 I give his description of the Louisianaise as my own. 
 
 Yesterday I had pointed out to me a large, heavy, 
 gigantic-looking personage, in a blue frock-coat and gray 
 trowsers, as the Prince de Wurtemburg, who is traveling 
 in the United States. He is a fair Saxon in aspect, 
 •with a fleshy countenance, blue eyes, and double chin — 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 351 
 
 a thorough heavy German. I was at once interested in 
 
 him, not because he was a prince, Mr. , because all 
 
 our young Americans of "Young America" are princes 
 born, — but from the fact that he is a lineal descendant 
 of that good Duke of Wurtemburg who was Luther's fast 
 friend, and whose adhesion to the Protestant cause gave 
 such impetus to the Reformation. 
 
 There are scores of the old noblesse of France living 
 here in quiet and more or less competency; some as 
 gentlemen still, others as fabricateurs of cigars, teachers, 
 &c. Here also are to be found exiles of all nations, 
 and men of desperate fortunes, self-expatriated. Every 
 language of the civilized world can be heard in this city 
 in a day's ramble through its thoroughfares. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
352 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLV. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 The more I see and understand this Franco- Ameri- 
 can city, the more I am pleased with it. The novelty 
 of its being a perfect plain, level as a chess-board, is one 
 of its striking characteristics, in a northern eye. Next 
 is its foreign air, then there is the magnificent coup d'ceil 
 of its league-long quay, the majesty of its moving river, 
 the massive grandeur of its public edifices, in which New 
 Orleans surpasses northern cities, and the picturesque 
 variety of costumes in the streets. Even the water in 
 the streets, after a heavy shower, runs awai/ from the 
 river towards the rear of the town, instead of running 
 into the river, as it ougJit to do in all well-regulated 
 corporations. 
 
 The cause of this latter peculiarity is that the river 
 is higher than the level bottom on which the city stands, 
 and from its shore the land gently inclines for a mile or 
 two, until a dead level is reached where the waters lie 
 immovable. Like all rivers through an alluvial region, 
 the Mississippi flows grandly and loftily along on a ridge 
 of its own making, and which it continues to elevate by 
 every muddy overflow. 
 
 But I leave these matters to Sir Charles Lyell and 
 Professor Forshay, and will write less learnedly, albeit 
 learned ladies are now the mode, and all our female 
 boarding-schools are transmogrified into Collegiate Insti- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 35^ 
 
 tutes, and colleges where degrees are bestowed, asserting 
 that the young ladies are proficients in (making pies and 
 puddings, doing up preserves, churning butter, and press- 
 ing cheeses, roasting, baking, and boiHng, making shirts 
 and mending cassimeres?) oh no! no, no, no, but in ana- 
 lyzing the atmosphere into globules ; in explaining the 
 electric battery ; in measuring the depth of the primary 
 secondary, and tertiary formations; in dissolving the 
 nebula trapezium in the belt of Orion into stars ; in con- 
 densing vapor, and explaining the mystery of the steam- 
 engine, and perfectly familiar with the science of political 
 government, and can demonstrate the forty-seventh Pro- 
 blem of Dr. Euclid ! 
 
 I have to-day passed two hours, divided between 
 two of the great Roman Catholic churches here, one 
 of which, on Place d'Armes, is a cathedral, by which 
 term I understand the church wherein the Bishop or 
 Archbishop himself preaches. 
 
 We went to the cathedral first, which fronts, with the 
 State government offices, a sweet public garden, adorned 
 with snow-white statues, and interlaced by lovely walks ; 
 an oasis of taste in the very heart of noisy commerce, 
 like a gentle thought in a bad man's breast. This square 
 is not large, but it is a hon ton of squares, for its neatness 
 and attractive air. On one side the massive walls, tower, 
 and turrets of the cathedral look protectingly down upon 
 it ; on two other sides stand the noble ranges of edifices 
 called the Montalban Buildings, constructed alike, and 
 facing each other on opposite sides of the Plaza. The 
 fourth side is open to the quay and river, at the point 
 where the magnificent ocean-steamers lie, to repose 9. 
 while from their stormy voyages from clime to clime. 
 
 23 
 
354 THE SUNNY south; ok, 
 
 The walks in the square were lively with nurses and 
 children, while lazy fellows with mustaches lay asleep on 
 the luxurious grass, or smoked cigars. This square has 
 been for more than a century the parade-ground of the 
 troops of the several nations which have held New Or- 
 leans : Spanish, French, English, and now Americans. 
 It was formerly the place of public execution, and from 
 it is fired at nine o'clock the cannon which we have heard 
 every night at that hour shake the city, and start Isabel 
 and me, and other unsophisticated country girls, from our 
 propriety. 
 
 The cathedral has an imposing and costly air. It is 
 the old cathedral, that ancient, time-honored structure, of 
 which 1 have read in novels, and the very sight of which 
 creates a romance in the imagination. But modern 
 taste has veneered all this antiquity, and out of the old 
 pile has produced a very elegant temple of worship. 
 We made our way along the front of the government 
 offices, between massive columns supporting a corridor, 
 and a row of cabriolets, which are the "hacks" of New 
 Orleans. The cabriolet is a handsome, chariot-shaped 
 vehicle, that is too pretty to be confined, as it is, en- 
 tirely to the hack-stand. These cahs^ as they are called 
 "for short," are driven by Irishmen, or by colored men, 
 the latter of whom sat half asleep on the boxes, while 
 the sons of Erin were alert, and extended to us very 
 pressing and polite invitations to sufier them to have the 
 " honor of dhrivin' our ladyship and our honors to any 
 part of the city." The front doors of the cathedral 
 were closed, but M. de Clery, our attendant, turned with 
 US down a narrow avenue, which had the wall of the 
 cathedral on our left, and a row of French-lqoking build- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 855 
 
 ings on our right, wliich, said Isidore, are occupied by 
 the priests ; and of this fact we had ocular proof, by 
 seeing two sleek and unctuous-looking gentlemen, with 
 pleasant visages, sitting on a balcony, one with a paper 
 cigar in his lips, and the other reading to him from a 
 small, greasy book ; there was also a very young, slen- 
 der-looking priest in a long, black serge-gown, reaching 
 to his heels, who was at the door of another house, pur- 
 chasing, with a smile and a jest, some superb Huston 
 peaches from a basket balanced on the head of a Creole 
 woman. 
 
 We proceeded about fifty yards down this avenue when 
 we came to a side door, which an elegantly shaped, veiled 
 female wiis in the act of opening to go in. Isidore po- 
 litely held the door for her and us, and we passed through 
 a second cloth door into the interior. At our left was a 
 marble basin, containing consecrated water, into which the 
 veiled lady dipped the tip of her forefinger, and, turning 
 round to the shrine of the Virgin, crossed herself on the 
 forehead and bosom gracefully, at the same time bending 
 her head in the act of adoration. The cross is made by 
 touching the forehead, the breast, the left shoulder, and 
 lastly the right, in quick succession with the right fore- 
 finger. 
 
 The door by which we entered, brought us into the 
 Cathedral, close to the shrine of St. Joseph, near the 
 chancel. The extreme beauty of the interior ; the soft, 
 mellow, lemon-toned tint of the ceiling and columns, the 
 vast height of the fresco-adorned dome ; the variety of 
 fine architectural forms into which the walls around us 
 and the ceiling were shaped ; the liberal air of space and 
 expenditure apparent everywhere ; the superb altar, with 
 
356 THE SUNNY SOJLTTIi; OR, 
 
 its commingled paraphernalia of splendid things, of which 
 I neither knew the name nor their use, fixed my admira- 
 tion, and riveted me to the spot from which I first caught 
 a view of the rich ensemble. 
 
 After a few minutes, when I had comprehended the 
 grand outline, I began to examine details. I walked 
 around the immense church, from shrine to shrine, and 
 from picture to picture. The last are always daubs, in 
 all Roman churches, except the altar paintings, which 
 are always rich, and usually by a master's pencil. 
 
 I allude, under the term "pictures," not to the great 
 oil-paintings which rise above the central shrine, but to 
 those colored engravings, in black or rosewood frames, 
 that are seen in all these churches. They represent, in 
 a series, the events in the sufferings of Christ, from his 
 arrest to his ascension. These pictures are, I think, sixteen 
 in number, and are so hung around the church, that a vo- 
 tary, commencing with Jesus in the hands of His captors, 
 ends on the other side of the church with bowing before the 
 representation of His crucifixion. All good E-omans 
 often make the "penitential journey" round the church, 
 saying a prayer (composed for the purpose, in their Li- 
 turgy) before each picture, having reference to the scene 
 represented by it. These pictures are always engravings, 
 highly-colored, and sold by the set to supply churches, 
 not only in this country but in Europe. Each one is 
 sacredly surmounted by a little black cross. 
 
 As we entered, a negress, with a little mulatto child in 
 her hands, was engaged devoutly making the tour of the 
 " Passion of Jesus. ' ' I watched her, and saw her kneel be- 
 fore each engraving, and mutter her prayer, the little, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 357 
 
 black-eyed child pulled down on its knees by her side, but 
 its shining eyes always turned around and fixed on us. 
 
 There were several confessional boxes. Seeing the skirt 
 of a robe protruding from the alcove by the side of one, 
 I moved in that direction, and beheld the graceful lady, 
 whom I had a few minutes lost sight of, kneeling before 
 the lattice blind, with her mouth close to it, and pouring 
 into the ear of the unseen priest, shut up within, her se- 
 crets and her sins ! 
 
 That she was penitent, I felt sure, for there were 
 *' tears in her voice," as its slow sounds reached my he- 
 retical ears. Sorrow always commands reverence. I 
 turned away, leaving her to her humiliating work, and 
 wishing to say to her in the language of inspiration, 
 *' Daughter ! None forgiveth sins, but God only I" Ah, 
 this confessional ! It is the secret of Roman power over 
 the consciences of her people. " Tell me your secrets, 
 and you are my slave," was said two thousand years ago, 
 by a Greek writer: and it is true to-day, and Rome 
 practically asserts its -truth. 
 
 I observed tha., over the door of each of the confes- 
 sionals was printed in gold letters, the name of the father- 
 confessor ; so that the penitent knows (possibly if no mis- 
 chievous and evil-minded young priest steal in, or jealous 
 husband unawares to priest and penitent) to whom she 
 is unfolding the secret intents and thoughts of her heart. 
 I should hardly be willing to tell my husband everything, 
 (if I had one, Mr. ,) less so to one of these jovial- 
 eyed, good-natured, bald-headed padres ! and much less 
 to a handsome young fellow of a priest, whom I saw cross 
 the chancel, in at one door and out of the other, half 
 bending his knee before the crucifix on the altar, as he 
 
358 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 passed by it, not without half an eye cast upon our 
 party ' The confessional alone would frighten me from 
 ever being a Romanist. 
 
 If you have ever been in a Roman church, you must 
 have been struck with the three great altars or shrines 
 which are invariably in all of them, at the east end of 
 the church. The centre one is the High Altar, mth the 
 crucifix, holy, vessels, &c., and is the shrine of Jesus ! 
 On the right of this, at the same end, is the shrine of the 
 Virgin with her altar, and the objects associated with her 
 worship. On the left of the High Altar, at the same 
 end, is the shrine and altar of St. Joseph, the husband 
 of Mary. 
 
 These three altars take up the whole of the east end 
 of all Roman churches. The three are equally wor- 
 shiped, or rather the shrines; and the Virgin always 
 has the greatest number of votaries. Her altar is heaped 
 with the freshest flowers ; and three kneel before her 
 shrine, where one kneels before the high altar of " the 
 Christ." 
 
 The religion of Rome is Mariolatry. The Mother of 
 Jesus is the supreme object of the worship, homage, 
 adoration, and supplication of Romanists. Jesus is wor- 
 shiped and adored not as ''the ascended Lord," but as 
 the infant in arms : » this is a peculiarity of the Roman 
 worship. They are so accustomed to think of, and to be- 
 hold Jesus in the arms of His Mother, that they lose sight 
 of Him as "the Man Christ Jesus;" and the habit of 
 seeing Him only as an Infant leads them to look upon 
 the Blessed Mother alone in the light of protectress and 
 guardian of the Holy Child. Thus they associate with 
 her a maternal influence and maternal power in relation 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 359 
 
 to Him, which is the foundation of their whole system 
 of ''Prayers to the Virgin." 
 
 Christ in the arms is the centre of Roman worship : 
 Christ on the cross, of Protestant. It is natural there- 
 fore that the worshiper of the babe should transfer a 
 part of adoration to its mother. 
 
 After half an hour spent in the Cathedral, we de- 
 parted as we came, and taking one of the cabriolets, 
 droYe to St. Patrick's Church; of my visit to which I 
 will not trouble you with an account, as it interested me 
 less than that to the Cathedral. On our way we paused 
 at Christ Church, the richest Episcopal Church in this 
 city. It is a low, ill-planned structure for its archi- 
 tectural pretensions, looking, as if the main body had 
 sunk some six feet under ground, after being built, and 
 the spire had sunk as many feet down into the bosom of 
 the tower. The whole wants elevation, and up-lifting 
 into the air. 
 
 The interior I am told is very rich; but gates and 
 doors were locked, — for, I regret to say, the Romans 
 are the only people who "shut not their gates" to the 
 foot of the wayfaring worshiper, who, at all times, 
 should be able to enter the " courts of the House of the 
 Lord, and worship towards His holy temple." 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 K. C. 
 
360 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLVI. 
 
 Chateau db Clery, La. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 This letter's date shows you that I am once more 
 an inmate of the charming abode from which I have so 
 frequently written you. My last was dated at New 
 Orleans, where we had been to purchase the hundred 
 little elegancies for Isabel's bridal, which having done to 
 all our satisfactions, we returned home on Tuesday last. 
 I see by on^ of your papers that I have been so dis- 
 tinguished as to find a critic. 
 
 Dear me ! I had no idea, not the remotest, that any 
 thing coming from my pen could be worthy of the notice 
 of any other pen, especially such a graceful one as that 
 of your New Orleans correspondent. If I use "Needles," 
 her pens are pointed with gold, and sharpened with 
 diamond dust. Present to her my most gracious com- 
 pliments, and say to her that she is right in supposing I 
 had made a mistake in giving to one railroad terminus 
 some descriptive sentences which really belonged to the 
 other ! I thank her for the correction and especially for 
 making it so pleasantly. But who could be expected to 
 
 have their heads perfectly clear, Mr. , (I ask you^ 
 
 who are a married man, and ought to know about such 
 matters,) when they were shopping with a bride-elect, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 361 
 
 attended by a handsome young man, and half in love with 
 him myself? 
 
 I do not mean Isabel's affianc(3 Isidore, but a friend 
 of his, who escorted us; for Isidore is too diffident to go 
 a-shopping with Bel, on such an occasion. Now, having 
 
 told you the secret, Mr. , you are not surprised. I 
 
 feel confident that my head was a little giddy, and that 
 I mistook my notes about one railway at one end of the 
 city, jotted down when I came from a day's trip to Pass 
 Christian for those made for the other railway at the 
 other end; and I trust that this explanation will make 
 me friends with your correspondent. And talking of 
 such contributors to your columns, pray who is "Nico- 
 lene?" She writes with taste to be sure, and does me 
 great honor, in her graceful humility, to furnish such 
 exquisitely woven threads for my "Needles." But I do 
 her injustice to call them thread — they are the finest 
 silken floss of the richest and most brilliant tints. How 
 intimately one can know an unknown one by means of 
 the magic press! This "Nicolene" and I are already 
 friends, stitched as closely together as twin-sisters, by 
 means of our "Thread and Needle." Shall we ever 
 meet in this green world under the sunny blue sky, hand 
 in hand, and friendly eye looking into friendly eye? or 
 if not, and we cross one another's bright path in celestial 
 fields, shall we know who one another is; and shall we 
 then be to the other as the "thread" to the "needle:" 
 two but one in aim, and in all things ? 
 
 Perhaps, too, I have many friends — many kindred 
 spirits, who have become acquainted with me through 
 my "Needles." I sometimes love to fancy myself visit- 
 ing, incognita, some of the fireside^ where they are read, 
 
362 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and where I am loved through them;* and to imagine 
 the dear welcome I should receive from smiling ejes and 
 pressing hands, w^hen I told them who I was. Thus, my 
 dear sir, my pen has become to me the key to open many 
 hearts, who think and speak of me, as if they had seen 
 and talked with me face to face. They will continue to 
 be my friends, forever, and I to be theirs ; so that I have 
 two sets of friends in the world ; those whom I have seen, 
 and whose voices are familiar to my ear; and those 
 whose forms, whose faces, whose voices, whose names, 
 whose homes on earth, are all unknown to me ! To them 
 I send love and greeting. To them I send wishes of 
 happiness and heaven ; for them my prayers ascend ; to- 
 wards them my pleasantest thoughts wander, when in 
 the still twilight I give them free wing over the shadowy, 
 half-star-lit world. 
 
 In this letter, dear Mr. , I meant to have given 
 
 you a description of the great preparations which are 
 making for Isabel's bridal, which takes place on Thurs- 
 day morning next ; but I have not time now, everybody 
 is hurrying everybody so ; for one comes and urges me 
 to lay down my pen, and entwine a wreath of flowers for 
 some statuette; or another runs and asks me my opinion 
 of such an ornament for the chandeliers ; Isabel sends 
 the pretty golden skinned slave, Emma, to ask me if she 
 ought to wear any rings at all during the ceremony, and 
 whichj one or ones? and then my taste is in demand for 
 the best mode of dressing the chancel of the little gothic 
 chapel, where the ceremony is to take place; and what 
 with trying to keep Isidore within proper decorum, con- 
 
 * A great number of letters and poems were addressed to the 
 authoress. — Editor. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 363 
 
 sidcring he is soon to become a grave husband, and show- 
 ing Aunt Chloe how to frost cake "Bosting-way," as 
 she calls it, I have enough to do ; so good bye for this 
 
 day, good Mr. . In a day or two you shall have 
 
 full particulars of the wedding. 
 
 Your true friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
364 THE SUNNY south; ok, 
 
 LETTER XLVII. 
 
 Chateau de Clery, La. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 The wedding of Isabel had like to have been put off 
 for at least a whole month, just for a point of etiquette ! 
 And what do you suppose it was? 
 
 Why, you know, that my sweet pupil, Isabel, who for 
 two years past has grown into the charming grace of in- 
 tellectual womanhood under my eye, had captivated the 
 calm, elegant, retiring Isidore de Clery, while on a visit 
 at his father's with her own father, Colonel Peyton. 
 When it was perceived that lovers they were, and mar- 
 ried they would be, why the dear, good colonel gave his 
 consent, and proposed that the party should go to the 
 city to purchase the wedding dresses, jewelry, and ever 
 so many and so forths ! 
 
 Of course Bel did not object ; M. de Clery, senior, did 
 not object, but was perfectly enraptured at the prospect 
 of having such a lovely daughter-in-law ; and Isidore did 
 not object by any means. So the wedding, it was de- 
 cided, should take place at the Chateau de Clery. 
 
 But now, only think of the tyrannies of fashionable 
 
 propriety, Mr. ! After we had returned from New 
 
 Orleans to the Chateau, a certain very precise, very 
 starch, very ancient old lady aunt, who was invited from 
 her sugar estate to the wedding, took it into her antiquated 
 
THE SOUTIIErvXER AT HOME. 3G5 
 
 I 
 
 head "tliat it was most becoming for young maidens 
 to be married (whercsomever they may be courted) at 
 their paternal mansion ; and that it would not be comme 
 il faut if Isabel were married at the house of the father 
 of her intended husband ! that the bridegroom should go 
 to the house of the bride elect after his bride, and take 
 her home! — at least that was the custom in her day!" 
 
 which was entre nous, Mr. , when three brothers, 
 
 named Shem, Ham, and Japhet, got their wives, I am 
 quite satisfied. 
 
 Now to the plain Tennessee manners of the colonel, 
 to the unsophisticated ignorance of poor Isabel, to the 
 want of savoir faire, pardonable in a White Mountain 
 Yankee girl, this idea never occurred to us before. The 
 old aunt's brocade and farthingale notions prevailed over 
 the better sense of the colonel, and he absolutely told 
 Bel that she had best be married at home, in Tennessee, 
 and that we would return on purpose for the next boat I 
 
 Bel came to me with her large, glorious, brown eyes, 
 overrunning with tears, and told me all. I was sur- 
 prised and indignant. I wished all meddlesome antedi- 
 luvian aunts a league beyond sundown, and telling Bel I 
 would see what I could do for her, and not to spoil her 
 pretty eyes with crying, I left my room and went to the 
 colonel On the way, in the salon, I encountered Isi- 
 dore. His ffice was pale, and his whole aspect perfectly 
 wretched with an expression of despair. He met me 
 with extended hands. 
 
 " Sweet, good Kate, you must reverse our fate ! You 
 can do any thing you attempt. Influence the colonel to 
 change his mind. It is absurd ! Why can we not be 
 married at my father's as well as at Bel's? I wish her 
 
866 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 aunt had been blown up " (no — not so bad as that," 
 
 I said, putting my finger on his lips) " well, sunk to the 
 bottom of the Mississippi ere she had come here to mar 
 our felicity. For Bel's sake, as well as mine, do some- 
 thing in our behalf!" 
 
 I promised Isidore I would see what could be done, 
 and, followed by his blessings, I sought Colonel Peyton, 
 whom I found walking up and down the piazza on the 
 shady side of the house, looking as gloomy as if he had 
 the toothache. 
 
 " Well, Kate, I see you have heard the news," he said, 
 approaching me. " Bel will cry her eyes out, and Isi- 
 dore will blow out his brains ! But, bless me, what could 
 I do ? There is my precise sister, with her old, Revolu- 
 tionary-War notions, says it will be ' an absolute scan- 
 dal' if I suffer Bel to be married here, and that such a 
 
 thing was never heard of, and that — that — the — d ! 
 
 would generally be to pay ." 
 
 ("Fie, colonel!" I said, trying to stop the word at 
 the syllable, but it was no use — out it came with a hearti- 
 ness that was resistless.) 
 
 " Well, Kate, it is enough to make old General Taylor 
 swear !" 
 
 "What does Monsieur de Clery say?" I asked. 
 
 " He, you know, is so excessively polite that he can't 
 gainsay a woman, so he bows, and bows, and smiles, and 
 outwardly acquiesces to my sister, while I very well know 
 he would be most happy to administer chloroform to her 
 for the next nine days to come. But, if scandal is to 
 come of it, Bel must be married at home, as I have told 
 her. Confound fashion, Kate." 
 
 Here the colonel gave such a petulant fling to his 
 
THE SOUTIIERNEE AT HOME. 367 
 
 cigar, that it went like a rocket through the air, and 
 h'ghted upon the thick woolly pate of old Aunt Elise, 
 igniting the unctuous crisp to the sudden consternation 
 of the old dame, who screeched so loudly, with her apron 
 over her head, and ran so madly, yelling "Fire !" that 
 the colonel burst into laughter, and his anger evaporated, 
 for he is too good-natured to hold ill-humor. 
 
 " Well, Kate, I will be guided by your good sense, 
 and if it offends my sister we must bear the brunt. 
 What do you propose in order to keep these lovers from 
 djnng with despair ? for, I confess, that to put off a mar- 
 riage a whole month, which was to take place to-morrow 
 night, is a pretty trying affair; don't you think so?" 
 
 "I do not know any thing about such matters," I an- 
 swered, very quickly ; " but if the good lady is not to 
 be pacified, I propose that you suggest to M. de Clery 
 that he invest you with the proprietorship of Chateau 
 de Clery for a day or so. Do you understand me, 
 colonel?" 
 
 " Upon my word I do not, Kate," he answered, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "I understand her, colonel," responded the cheery 
 voice of M. de Clery, who overheard me, and now joined 
 us. "It is a good idea. Bon, honP' 
 
 " A good idea will be the most acceptable to me just 
 now," answered the colonel, with a blank look. ^'What 
 would Miss Kate be at?" 
 
 " I do not wish to offend so respectable a person as 
 Madame, your sister," said M. de Clery, with a smile, 
 " and as her prejudices touching where a Demoiselle should 
 be married are not to be easily overcome, I herewith in- 
 vest you, my dear colonel, for three days, with the sole 
 
368 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 proprietorship of this chateau, servants, and all it con- 
 tains, and for that period, Isidore and I will have the 
 honor of being your happy guests !" 
 
 At this the colonel burst into a hearty laugh, and, 
 shaking M. de Clery by both hands, turned to me and 
 kissed me, looking the uproarious picture of satisfaction 
 and delight, and began calling for "Bel," at the top of 
 his voice ! 
 
 The matter was soon arranged. Bel smiled again, 
 like an April sun coming out from behind showery clouds ; 
 Isidore said I deserved to be married to an emperor, 
 and the colonel would have kissed me again, if I hadn't 
 adroitly glided from the reach of his hospitable arm. 
 The prim aunt was but half and half content. She some- 
 how felt as if somebody had been whipped around the 
 stump for her especial benefit ; " she couldn't exactly 
 see ho\Y it was, but she lioped it was proper." 
 
 It would have amused you, Mr. , to have seen 
 
 how amazed the servants were when they saw the cha- 
 teau so suddenly change hands. M. de Clery resigning 
 his place at the table to the colonel, and all giving of 
 orders. It was a merry time we had, and all was car- 
 ried forward with commendable gravity, greatly to the 
 edification of the antiquated lady, who presided at the 
 tea-table, with inexpressible majesty. 
 
 To-night the wedding takes place. All are in a flutter 
 and excitement. You would think every soul on the place, 
 black and white, was going to be married, instead of the 
 blushing, trembling, trying-to-be-composed-Isabel. Such 
 showing of ivories, on red and black ground, from hall 
 to kitchen, such Ethiopian merriment, such good humor 
 and activity generally, never was before. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 369 
 
 One servant runs to the garden to gather bouquets for 
 the pier-tables and mantles ; another gathers ripe fruits ; 
 another wreathes flowers; another goes by laden with 
 frosted cakes ; another flies this way ; and another that ; 
 till all know not whether they are on their head or their 
 heels. For my part, I never was more excited, and don't 
 believe that if I were going to be married myself, I 
 should be half so fluttered, and my heart so tumultuous. 
 
 Yet with all my joy for Bel, there is mingled inex- 
 pressible sadness ! To night she ceases to be my beloved 
 pupil — to night she is no longer her father's, but an- 
 other s! The fond, paternal arms which have encircled 
 her for so many years in prideful afi*ection, are to be re- 
 placed by those of a stranger. Every relation which she 
 has held to those she has loved, will, to-night, change ! 
 She passes from us to revolve in another orbit, around 
 another sun than that which has warmed and lighted the 
 world of her young heart. 
 
 Ah, what a risk a young girl runs to marry ! What a 
 lottery is wedlock! How untried, until he is tried, the 
 man for whom she so courageously and confidingly leaves 
 father, mother, brothers, sisters, home, and all things 
 familiar and fondly loved ! Will he be to her all these ? 
 Will he weigh down in life's unequal scales even weight 
 with these ? But I will not moralize ! Blessings be on 
 the pure head of dear Isabel ! She is noble and worthy to 
 be happy ; and may all that heaven loves to shower on its 
 favored ones fall upon her through life. Be fragrant 
 flowers about her path, and singing birds around her 
 steps, and pleasant skies above her. My blessings go 
 with thee, my prayers surround thee, dearest girl ! 
 
 And thou, lordly Isidore ! strong and manly in thy 
 24 
 
370 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 princely beauty, take this gentle dove into thy bosom, 
 and shelter it with thy tenderest care ! The tendrils of 
 the fragile vine, that thou hast unclasped from the pater- 
 nal oak, teach kindly to enfold about thy own heart, 
 each sustaining and binding one to the other in an im 
 perishable union! 
 
 Good bye, Mr. , 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 371 
 
 LETTER XLVII. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 Isabel is married ! My dear pupil is to-day hailed 
 with the matronly and dignified title of Madame Isidore 
 de Clery. The wedding took place yesterday evening, 
 at 4 o'clock, in the little brick chapel, which nestles in a 
 grove of sycamores, a mile from the chateau. 
 
 As I know you men have a great deal of curiosity 
 about everything, though you try and hide it, as well as 
 you can, behind the shadow of your beards, I will give 
 you some account of the ceremony, and how it came off. 
 
 The day was as fine as if it were the first day that 
 morning had ever broken upon, the skies were of so 
 "heavenly a blue," as Mrs. Hemans describes the pecu- 
 liar azure of the cerulean and transparent autumnal at- 
 mosphere. There was but one cloud visible, which floated 
 over the east, like a bridal scarf, graceful and undula- 
 ting, as if borne onward by a company of invisible fairies, 
 by and by to descend and cast it over "the bride of the 
 day." The birds, all of them, blue and gray, orange- 
 colored and scarlet, brown and black, were all on tho 
 wing, and singing quite beside themselves, as if they 
 well knew there was a grand holiday. 
 
 The little army of sable urchins, that always appertain 
 to a planter's domestic establishment, were arrayed in 
 their "Sunday best," and with great fragments of corn 
 
372 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 bread, sweetened with molasses, in their hands, were 
 tumbling, rolling, somerseting, galloping over the green, 
 and as generally beside themselves with joy, as the birds 
 were. Then all the dogs — Tray, Blanche, Sweetheart, 
 and old Bonus — seemed to have inhaled exhilarating gas. 
 Such wagging of tails short, tails long, tails shaggy, and 
 tails genteel! such extravagant demonstrations of joy 
 were never before known among the canine family of the 
 chateau. Every particular dog seemed to delight him- 
 &elf in chasing his own tail around and around a circle, 
 jnd the whole yard seemed to be converted into a sort 
 c F animated orrery, the orbits in which they revolved 
 h iving old Bonus for their central sun, and Bonus, like 
 Ihe sun, made slow and majestic revolutions on his axis, 
 and, unlike the sun, would once in a while elevate his 
 toothless jaws, and, opening his huge mouth, send forth 
 towards the heavens a doleful and horrible howl. Poor 
 Bonus ! it was his best. He would have yelped and 
 laughed, like the younger dogs, if he could ; but all that 
 he could do towards approaching a proper expression of 
 the common joy were the hoarse, guttural notes, which 
 from time to time reached the ears of Isabel, and made 
 her turn pale with apprehension. "It is an evil omen, 
 dear Kate," she said, trying to laugh. 
 
 " It is old Bonus' best mode age has left him to hail 
 your bridal day," I answered. "You should take it as 
 a compliment from the old dog, Bel. Hear him! It 
 does sound wofuUy doleful, but let it not annoy you. I 
 will have him muzzled. But pardon his unusual excite- 
 ment, considering the occasion." 
 
 But Bel was troubled, and I had to order Pierre to 
 put a muzzle on the howling patriarch; and no sooner 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 873 
 
 had he obejccl, than all the little dogs ceased their revo- 
 lutions after their tails, and came and stood around him, 
 gazing upon him with looks of curiosity and canine sym- 
 pathy, and evidently were doing their best respectfully 
 to console the old patriarch. 
 
 Noon at length passed, and I went in the carriage to 
 the chapel, to see if it were all dressed for the bridal. 
 
 On the way I met Dr. S , the clergyman, in his 
 
 black coat and white stock, jogging along on a big, 
 handsome mule, which was his favorite riding horse. 
 
 ^'Good day, Miss Conynghame," he said, bowing with 
 courteous kindness. ^'You will find the chapel all ar- 
 ranged with taste, by my daughters, and several other 
 maidens. How is Miss Peyton?" 
 
 •'Well, sir," I answered. "Isidore was wishing to 
 see you, to ask some questions about what he should say 
 and do in the ceremony." 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said, smilingly. "Young people feel 
 a little nervous at such times. I must drill him to the 
 tactics for the day. Good-bye." 
 
 So he thrust his left heel thrice into the left flank of 
 his mule "Columbus," and went pacing off uj) the Levee 
 road, at an enormous gait. 
 
 I soon came in sight of the chapel. It was prettily 
 and rurally situated, in a fine grove, a hundred and fifty 
 rods from the road. It faced the river, and, with its 
 little cemetery about it, glittering with white marble 
 monuments, formed a picturesque feature in the scenery. 
 But all was beautiful everywhere the eye fell, the whole 
 mile from the chateau to the chapel, and for leagues be- 
 low it. The river road Avas bordered with gardens, 
 and villas, and lawns, and groves, on one side, and on 
 
374 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 the other was the green elevation of the Levee, with the 
 ever-rolling tide of the dark brown flood of the Missis- 
 sippi, the other side of it; while upon its broad bosom 
 were pleasure boats, and row-boats, crossing this way 
 and that — fishermen suspended motionless above the 
 deep, in their light red canoes, and in the distance, the 
 majestic forms of ascending and descending steamers 
 marked their paths above the trees by long trains of 
 dark, chocolate-colored smoke. All was beautiful and 
 grand, with the splendid sun shining obliquely down on 
 all, tesselating land and w^ater with a mammoth mosaic 
 of light and shadow, copying on the ground, "in shade," 
 the forms of all things it shone upon. 
 
 The little chapel is an ancient and very small edifice, 
 brown and ivy-grown, with signs of age in its steep, 
 moss-covered roof, and weather-brown doors. It has 
 two narrow painted windows, on each side, a triple- 
 lancet window above the chancel, and a lower one oddly 
 shaped, surmounted by a red spire, crowned by a cross, 
 which had once been gilt, but was now bronzed by ex- 
 posure. Tavo immense sycamores stood before the low 
 Gothic door of the tower, and rising far in the air, spread 
 their broad, w^hite arms protectingly above it; while in 
 tlieir rear grew elms, and a majestic live-oak, that over- 
 shadowed the altar-window, and a lowly grave beneath. 
 Shade, repose, and holy seclusion marked the spot. 
 One might forget there, it would seem, that around, 
 though out of sight, rolled the great wicked world, and 
 that sin was but a dream of the past, but for the graves 
 about, and the recollection of the fearful words, "Death 
 came by sin." 
 
 Yes, even there, in that sweet, secluded, shut-out spot 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 375 
 
 of peace, the graves — wliich added to its solemn beauty, 
 and gave it an air of repose — spoke of sin! No — no- 
 where on earth can we escape the presence of it, or of 
 its memorials : it is only in that bright world, beyond 
 the glittering constellations that pave the floor of the 
 "mansions of God," that peace and sinlessness are 
 known. " There shall be no more sin." 
 ' All things on earth speak of death. Its sable seal is 
 impressed upon everything below. The flower buds, 
 blooms, diffuses its fragrance, and withers away. This 
 is death. The lordly oak decays with age, and falls to 
 mingle with the dust from which it sprung: and tMs is 
 death ! The day fades into twilight, and loses itself in 
 the shades of night : and this is death ! The green spring, 
 which blooms through all the summer, in autumn turns 
 gray and sear, and casts its dry leaves upon the earth : 
 and this is death ! The new moon fulls, and wanes, and 
 ceases to shine : and this is death ! The stars leave their 
 spheres, glitter for a brilliant moment, and disappear in 
 darkness : and this is death ! 
 
 The seal of death is truly impressed upon all things 
 beneath the shining sun. " Nothing remains in one stay." 
 Even the nuptial vow before the altar was echoed from 
 the white marble monuments of the dead, that glared 
 into the windows upon the bridal. 
 
 But, my dear sir, this is a sad conclusion for a letter 
 upon a "wedding." But it is the reflection of the sha- 
 dow upon my heart. Isabel's marriage has made me 
 weep more than smile, for she is lost to me, and ere many 
 days elapse, we separate — perhaps forever. 
 
 In my next, Mr. , I will describe the wedding, for 
 
 really I have no heart to do it to-day. 
 
376 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER XLIX. 
 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 In this letter I will redeem my promise, to write a 
 description of the wedding at Chateau de Clery. We are 
 now — the whole wedding-party — in this city, waiting for 
 the Crescent City, in which we are to embark by way of 
 Havana for New York. 
 
 The hour for the nuptials was 4 o'clock on Thursday 
 last. At half past three, the cortege^ in four open car- 
 riages, started from the villa for the chapel, a mile down 
 the river-road. There were outriders, young gentlemen 
 of the vicinity, on prancing steeds, and at least two hun- 
 dred well-dressed slaves following on foot, and in the 
 greatest glee. The scene, the Levee-road exhibited, was 
 novel and interesting, with its varied population and gay 
 apparel, — for the negro women invariably wore scarlet, 
 or orange-colored, or sky-blue headkerchiefs, and the 
 men sported red or yellow waistcoats. 
 
 Isabel and her father, Isidore and myself, rode in the 
 first barouche. The bride looked charmingly, arrayed 
 in the richest white, embroidered crape, with a coronet 
 of pearls upon her brow, and bracelets, and necklace of 
 pearls. Over her head was thrown a veil of the purest 
 Mechlin lace, as superbly elegant as if woven of silver 
 gossamer and lilies interwined. She looked so happy, and 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 377 
 
 yet trembled so, that I thought one might compare mar- 
 rying to being drowned in Cologne-water, or hanged with 
 a perfumed cambric handkerchief! Isidore also looked 
 deadly pale, and then fearfully rubicund, and said, in that 
 short ride of a mile, more silly things than, I dare say, 
 he will say again, if he lives to be as old as Methusaleh. 
 Isabel kept silent, and feared to meet his eyes, which I 
 observed he never took off of her. 
 
 How simple going to be married makes a person look ! 
 I am glad that I have yet escaped this nonsense, Mr. 
 
 . By the way, the handsome young man whom I 
 
 saw in New Orleans on our former visit, intends taking 
 passage in the Crescent City to New York. He is cer- 
 tainly a very modest and unassuming person, to be so 
 handsome and wealthy as he is ; — and so intelligent and 
 
 highly educated. If I ever marry, Mr. , (dear me ! 
 
 what am I writing about ? Oh ! Isabel's wedding ! Peo- 
 ple can't always keep from having wandering thoughts, 
 though one prays never so hard against them). 
 
 As I was saying, Isabel looked very lovely and was 
 very silent. Old Bonus suddenly was heard howling 
 behind, trying, with all the other dogs of the family, to 
 keep up with the carriages. This doleful sound made 
 her look uneasy, and she glanced at me. At this mo- 
 ment, the coachman, in giving his long, new whip a flourish 
 at some tame doves in the road, accidentally curled the 
 green silken lash about the neck of one of them, and, 
 with the backward movement of his hand, it came into 
 the carriage and directly into Isabel's lap ! It was as 
 white as the driven snow, with a pink bill, and olive- 
 brown eyes. It was dreadfully frightened, but Isabel, 
 who looked upon it as a good omen against the bowlings 
 
378 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 of old Bonus, smiled, and drew it to her bosom soothingly, 
 stroking its cream-pure plumage with her white-gloved 
 hand. We all pronounced it a "good omen," and Isi- 
 dore said, " he would have a cage of gold made for it, 
 put rings on its fingers and bells on its toes, and it should 
 have music wherever it goes," 
 
 We all laughed at this absurd speech of Isidore, know- 
 ing that he was too happy in his foolishness to know 
 what he said, and he had wits enough left to laugh, also 
 when he reflected a moment. 
 
 "Never mind," said the colonel, "it is his wedding 
 day ; and the most sensible men then sometimes play the 
 fool." 
 
 Isidore smilingly bowed to the compliment, and we 
 drove up to the church, the dove being transferred to the 
 possession of the footman, who had instructions, both 
 from Isidore and Bel, to keep it with the tenderest 
 care, and take it to the chateau after the wedding was 
 over. 
 
 We found the front of the church thronged with the 
 guests, and in the background, the groups of curious and 
 happy servants, that mingle in all Southern scenes. But 
 hoAV shall I describe to you the unlooked for reception 
 of the bride before the church ! 
 
 The carriage stopped at the outer gate, fifty yards 
 from the entrance of the chapel. The gravel path was 
 lined with twenty-four young girls, dressed in pure white, 
 each having a wreath of white blossoms in her hair. 
 Each maiden carried a basket, filled with the leaves of 
 roses — heaped up. At the gate stood two tall, lovely 
 girls, holding aloft an arch wreathed with flowers in the 
 most magnificent manner. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 379 
 
 Beneath this arch the bride and bridegroom passed, 
 and as they moved onward, the twenty-four maidens pre- 
 ceded them and strewed the way with rose-leaves, so that 
 Isabel's foot touched not the earth, only flowers from the 
 gate to the chapel. Before the door stood two other 
 maidens, holding a chain of flowers, and, as the bride 
 and groom passed between them, they encircled them inv 
 one flowery bond. Within the vestibule stood a beautiful 
 girl, who held two crowns in her hands, one of laurel- 
 leaves, the other of orange blossoms ; and with them, she 
 preceded the bride and her twenty-four bridesmaids for 
 all these lovely girls were Isabel's voluntary brides- 
 maids. 
 
 Arrived at the chancel, they knelt before the altar, in 
 front of which stood the venerable Dr. , in his sur- 
 plice, the prayer-book open at the place "Matrimony." 
 The bridesmaids knelt, twelve on each side, in brilliant 
 crescents; and above their heads the two tall graceful 
 maidens held the arch of flowers. 
 
 The ceremony, that of the Episcopal Church, was 
 deeply impressive ; and as the colonel, who was a Presby- 
 terian, said, 
 
 "It ties a couple together so fast and firm, that a 
 blacksmith's hammer and anvil couldn't unrivet them." 
 
 After the ceremony, the venerable clergyman (and for 
 venerable, very old clergymen it is well enough perhaps) 
 kissed the bride; and, before Isidore could do so, I had 
 her sweet cheek ; and then her father, and then the four- 
 and-twenty bridesmaids, "all in a row." When Isidore 
 at length got his turn, I thought he would never have 
 taken away his naughty lips from her pretty, ripe mouth. 
 Dear me ! what a difierence just marrying makes ! 
 
880 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 I forgot to say that the maiden who held the wreath, 
 crowned the pair as they rose from their knees. The 
 "happy couple" had no sooner left the church, than the 
 maidens commenced a lively chaunt ; the slaves crowded 
 round, and showered blessings on "handsome massa and 
 missis;" the birds in the old sycamores sang more 
 noisily and sweetly, and twenty times more lively than 
 ever before; the little dogs scampered and yelled with 
 joy, running under every lady's feet; old Bonus howled 
 most appallingly in his efforts to bark his compliments ; 
 and the very horses of the carriage into which Isidore 
 and Isabel stepped, tossed their small heads more proudly, 
 pricked their delicate triangular ears with vanity, and 
 arched their necks with inj&nite pretension. 
 
 They were but a few minutes, the beautiful stag-hoofed 
 bays, in conveying us back to the chateau, at which the 
 whole wedding-party alighted, just as the sun went down 
 in a pearl-shell sky. A superb wedding-dinner, at 7 
 o'clock, came off, in a magnificently lighted hall, with 
 sixty guests, planters, their wives and daughters, from 
 the neighboring estates, two-thirds of whom were French, 
 which language was almost wholly spoken at the table. 
 In the evening there was a grand ball, in a true Creole 
 style, w^ith a great deal of dancing and imbibing of 
 champagne. A fusilade of corks was kept up with great 
 spirit till midnight; arrows were shot from black eyes 
 into exposed hearts ; and there was a great taking captive 
 of unsophisticated youth. Every orange-bower echoed 
 softly with the whispers of some stolen away pair ; the 
 recesses of the piazza betrayed gentle forms half en- 
 circled by a manly arm ; and — but I Avon't tell tales, Mr. 
 , for I should tell one on myself — for the elegant 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 381 
 
 young French gentleman, from New Orelans, was at the 
 wedding, and somehow or other I saw a good deal of 
 him in the course of the evening, and we had a charming 
 walk together on the banks of the dark, star-lit river! 
 
 Well, the third day after the wedding, we all started 
 for New Orleans, where we are now. We embark to- 
 morrow for New York in the Crescent City. After a- 
 brief stay there, M.* Isidore de Clery and his fair bride 
 proceed to Europe by the steamer. They have invited 
 me to accompany them, but my mission is done. Isabel 
 is no longer a pupil — at least not mine ; how much soever 
 she may be her husband's — (for I believe all young wives 
 are, for the first two or three years, under tutelage, till 
 they learn and fall into their liege lord's "ways") — I 
 shall not undertake to say. 
 
 After they leave for Europe, I shall return to my na- 
 tive hills in New Hampshire, and settle down a village 
 old maid of twenty-two, and with the reputation, among 
 the simple folks, of being a great traveler. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 
382 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Dear Mr.- 
 
 LETTER L. 
 
 Hotel, St. Louis. 
 
 To-day we embark for Havana, that city towards 
 which so many filibustering eyes are at this time directed. 
 The bustle and hurry of packing and getting our trunks 
 on board is over, and there are yet three hours to spare, 
 in which quiet and a pen would be, by contrast with the 
 turmoil of the hotel, a great luxury. But as I wrote 
 you only yesterday, I will use my leisure and my pen 
 for the purpose of writing a letter to my Yankee bro- 
 ther away by the hills of New Hampshire, those glorious 
 snow-capped pillars of the clouds upon whose summits 
 the intellect of Webster has enkindled a blaze that shall 
 light the remotest posterities. Wrapped in his senato- 
 rial gown, he has laid down to rest among the mighty 
 dead of the past, himself one of the mightiest of them all. 
 
 But my poor pen is too humble and impotent to speak 
 of such a man. His peers only should attempt it, and 
 where, at this day, are they to be looked for ! 
 
 My little brother, of whom I speak, is my regular 
 correspondent, or rather I write to Mm regularly, and in 
 return I receive certain hieroglyphics in the shape of 
 very crooked pot-hooks and trammels, crossed in various 
 directions by bold, independent strokes, which no doubt 
 show energy, but are quite incomprehensible. In a word, 
 my brother is too small yet to know how to write, but he 
 
THE SOUTIIERXER AT HOME. 383 
 
 is too gallant a little fellow to leave a lady's letter unan- 
 swered, and so sends me the best fist he can achieve. 
 As it would gratify him very much to have a printed let- 
 ter, Mr. , I will just write to him through your 
 
 columns, and let his sister read it to him when it reaches 
 her. 
 
 " My dear little Charley : — There is some satisfac- 
 tion and pleasure in writing to you, as I know you can't 
 ivrite in return, and that your little heart will dance with 
 gladness to get a letter from your sister Kate all in print. 
 You remember, Charley, I said to you, in my last letter 
 from that French gentleman's house, Mr. De Clery, that 
 the blue-birds had built a nest in the piazza. Now I 
 have a story to tell you about these same birds. 
 
 " One day the sun was shining very warm, and Isabel 
 wanted to make a grass wreath for the colonel's hat, so 
 we walked out to gather some pretty green grass, and as 
 I walked along what should I spy but a little, tiny blue- 
 bird, that was not old enough to walk ? There he lay, 
 roasting in the hot sun, and no one near him ! Poor 
 thing ! he soon would have died, but I took him up, and 
 he nestled down in my hand just like a little baby on its 
 mamma's lap. I thought if dear little Leila, your sister, 
 should fall out of doors, how grateful I should be to any 
 one who would take care of her. So I took the little 
 bird, and laid it in the shade in some nice grass, so that 
 its mother might see it, and know it was alive. I then 
 went away a little distance and watched it. After a 
 while two old blue-birds flew to the tree, and began to 
 flutter and chirp in great trouble, and they then talked 
 to each other, and afterwards I saw them fly down on 
 the grass, and try and coax the poor little bird to follow 
 
384 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 them. The fiithcr took a worm in his mouth, and hop- 
 ping down, fed it, and then running away a few steps, 
 chirped and coaxed, but the httle thing could not fly. 
 Then the old bird went away, and told his neighbors and 
 friends of his trouble, while the good mother sat by, 
 soothing and comforting her baby. 
 
 ^' In a short time, the old bird came back with troops 
 of friends — yellow-birds, robins, mocking-birds, orioles, 
 sparrows, and black -martins. They all took the deepest 
 interest in the unhappy little thing, and would fly down, 
 around it, and over it, almost touching it with their soft 
 wings, all the while chirping in the greatest excitement, 
 but the little baby -bird sat quiet and trembling in the 
 little bed of grass I had put it on, its eyes half closed. 
 Then two young blue-birds, which, I guess, were its 
 cousins, went and gave him a pink-colored worm, which 
 it ate as if it were very hungry. Such singing and 
 talking as were now heard in the tree you have no idea, 
 for new friends kept coming, and the sorrowful parents 
 had to tell each new comer their pitiful tale. I think, 
 dear Charley, that birds can talk as well as children, 
 though we cannot always understand them. These birds 
 seemed to say : 
 
 " ' Poor birdie ! you are to be pitied. You are so little, 
 and you have fallen out of your mother's nest, and we 
 can't put you back. Don't you think you can use your 
 little wings, and fly up ? ' 
 
 "' See me,' says the yellow-bird, ' see how I fly !' and 
 away it went from bush to bush. 
 
 " ' Now,' says the mother, from a little, low stump, 'just 
 hop here. You can soon do it, and we will get you back 
 to the nest where you fell from.' 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 385 
 
 Still the little bird never stirred, only lifting its eyes 
 pitifully, and moved not a feather of its half-grown 
 wings. 
 
 "Presently hopped along a ground-sparrow, in his 
 neat gray coat, and said, smartly : 
 
 "'Come, little fellow, hop after me! Hop! one- 
 two— three— right into the tree ! Hop first, and then 
 you will fly! Come, now— one hop, two hops, three 
 hops, and then away go we !' 
 
 " And away went master sparrow, but alone by him- 
 self, for birdie moved not an inch. 
 
 " Then all the birds got on one tree near by, and held 
 a great confab, and by the way they chattered, they 
 seemed very much distressed that they could not, with 
 all their coaxing, get the little bird up into the nest 
 again. Then I went into the house, and took my little 
 work-basket, and lined it softly with white cotton-wool, 
 and went softly to it and laid birdie down carefully in it, 
 as nice as bird could wish to be, for the night was com- 
 ing on, and the ground was cold and damp. The birds 
 looked on, and did not fly away, but seemed to know the 
 little fellow had found a friend, and by their chirping, 
 after I had done, they seemed ^ght pleased that it was 
 so well cared for, for I tucked the cotton in all round 
 its sides, leaving only its little head peeping out, just as 
 I have seen you when you were a baby, tucked into your 
 crib under the snow-white sheets. 
 
 " When I went into the house, I told the colonel and 
 Mr. De Clery the story. The kind, good French gentle- 
 man then got a servant to bring a step-ladder, and went 
 up to the nest, and I reached up to him the wee birdie, 
 to put into it with his three little brothers and sisters, 
 25. 
 
386 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 •who were all safe in bed, tucked under their mammals 
 wing. You never saw any thing so happy as the mother 
 looked when the little runaway was nestled again under 
 her feathers, and all the rest of the birds seemed to 
 rejoice with her ; they chirped and sang so loudly and 
 noisily. I think the little bird was very glad to get 
 back again into its warm nest, and will be very careful 
 not to fall out again. I suspect he disobeyed his mo- 
 ther, and leaned too far over the edge, just as some lit- 
 tle boys stretch their heads out of the window, when 
 their mother tells them not, and then away they fall out. 
 But little boys do not live when they fall, as they strike 
 the hard stones and are killed ; and, if that little bird 
 had struck on a stone, instead of the soft grass, he too 
 would have died. When you and little cousin Fred get 
 up to the windows, remember the little blue-bird and be 
 careful not to lean too far out. 
 
 '' Now, good-bye, dear Charley, and remember the lit- 
 tle blue-bird and his fate, and take warning, and I shall 
 be more than repaid for writing the history of his mis- 
 hap. Be a good little fellow, and kiss your ma, and my 
 little sister, and cousin for me over and over again, and 
 tell mamma that sister ^3bte will soon be at home, after 
 her three years' absence. 
 
 " Your loving sister, 
 
 "Kate." 
 
 Now, Mr. , I know a letter to a child is not the 
 
 wisest piece of composition that ever was penned, but 
 Charley is a fine little fellow, and may be an editor him- 
 self one of these days ; so, if you will be so good as to 
 
TIIK SOUTIIEllXEll AT HOME. 387 
 
 print the letter, I will be very mucli obliged to you, 
 and send an extra paper containing it to Charley him- 
 self. The signal to embark is now heard, and I must 
 end. 
 
 Your friend truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 
 ^ 
 
388 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER LI. 
 
 Steamer Crescent, Gulp of Mkxico. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 If the penmanship of this letter be a little wavy, 
 and old Stephen Hopkins-like, you must attribute it to 
 the unsteadiness of the ship, which goes prancing and 
 bounding across the great green waves like a black war- 
 horse, breathing smoke and fire from his nostrils. 
 
 We left New Orleans day before yesterday, with a 
 large number of passengers, and in a few hours were 
 past the Balize on the bosom of this inland sea. The 
 run down the one hundred and twenty miles of river was 
 very interesting. The shores w^ere lined for many leagues 
 with the lemon-colored or snow-white villas of the opulent 
 sugar planters, half hid in groves of oak, elm, and orange 
 trees, the latter bearing stUl the scathing marks of the last 
 frost, which laid their ^i^j^^d and golden glories in the 
 dust. It was pleasant, as we steamed along, to see the 
 families upon their piazzas, watching us with spy-glasses 
 or waving kerchiefs (the gentlemen red silk and the ladies 
 cambric) to friends on board, who waved kerchiefs, and 
 hands, and hats, and scarfs back again ; the French peo- 
 ple sending kisses shoreward from the tips of their fin- 
 gers — a very graceful feat, and requiring some skill in 
 archery to send them straight at the ruby lips for which 
 they are aimed ! 
 
TnE SOUTHERNEll AT HOME. 380 
 
 I amused myself, as we steamed down, in watching the 
 fishing canoes of the negroes, and coast luggers, manned 
 by Spaniards and bj French Creoles, which were either 
 reposing on the water or moving in all directions across 
 the dark, buff-colored surface. The shores were con- 
 stantly beautiful, and Avith bordering roads as level as a 
 church aisle for leagues. The "English Turn" is a re- 
 markable bend, in which the river doubles back upon its 
 course, and runs northwardly for a few miles, and then 
 as abruptly shears off southwardly towards the Gulf, as 
 it ought to do. But great rivers must have their vaga- 
 ries, Mr. , as well as other folks, — and the Father 
 
 of Waters, considering his age and experience, may Avell 
 be allowed one in his course through* the world. But 
 this one, it is said, sorely puzzled some English boats, 
 once upon a time, ascending the stream ; for when they 
 found by compass that they were running south again, 
 they imagined they had only been following an arm of 
 the gulf, and so turned about, and went back the way 
 they had come, and thus saved the then French city of 
 New Orleans from a hostile visit. Hence the name of 
 the place — at least so said a nautical-looking gentleman 
 who stood near Isidore, and ^ig bride, and myself, and 
 kindly volunteered this piece of information ; but tra- 
 velers sometimes get their ears filled with strange tales, 
 hence so many veracious Munchausens printed from year 
 to year by authentic tourists. Dear me ! If I should 
 believe one half I hear in my travels, I might publish out 
 of the selection a very interesting volume of travels, new 
 edition, with wood-cuts, beautifully colored, and a por- 
 trait of Mr. Gulliver, jr. facing the title page. 
 
 You may depend, Mr. , upon all I tell y^u as sober 
 
Q 
 
 90 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 truth, even the tiger story, that some naughty person has 
 been so uncivil as to throw doubt upon. Please tell him 
 never to doubt a lady's word. When we had got about 
 fifty miles below the city, we had passed the ranges of 
 susar estates, and the shores were in the uncultivated 
 wildness of Nature. They were level to the horizon, and 
 from the wheel-house, one gazed over a vast savannah 
 of eternal green — a sea of foliage — amid which, like a 
 huge, brown, shining serpent, the Mississippi wound and 
 interwound its tortuous course. 
 
 It was novel to see the masts of invisible ships ascend- 
 ing and descending far across the green level, a league 
 off, in another portion of the bending river, while at in- 
 tervals, from the bosom of the savannah, would rise 
 columns of black smoke, indicating the passage of a 
 steamer, the hull of which was invisible below the level 
 of the tree tops. The sun shone magnificently, and the 
 air was like that of May in New England. On board, 
 our party was in fine spirits, and Isabel seemed in her 
 enjoyment of the trip to forget that she was a "married 
 lady," and ought to put away such juvenilities as clap- 
 ping her hands at anything striking or pretty she saw 
 on the shores. Her extreme beauty, and the noble in- 
 telligence in all her face, caused her to be much observed 
 and greatly admired ; while the young gentlemen looked 
 as if they would like to throw the handsome, happy Isi- 
 dore overboard. 
 
 How is it that most men always have a lurking dislike 
 towards a man with a handsome wife ? The colonel says 
 it is so, and he ought to know I suppose. Now, if I see 
 a lady with a perfect Adonis of a husband — poh! I don't 
 think of , feeling envious of her — not I ! I only feel glad 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 391 
 
 for him — if he looks like a fine-hearted and generous 
 fellow — that he has got such a handsome wife. But you 
 men are never half so amiable as we are. 
 
 TJie French gentleman from New Orleans, is on board, 
 a passenger, and I think he is one of the most agreeable, 
 modest young men I ever saw. He has somehow read 
 some of my letters, and has taken quite a fancy to talk 
 with me. I don't mean to say that he talks love — oh ! we 
 are both too sensible for anything of that kind. We 
 talk of literary men and women, of the literature of Ger- 
 many and Spain, with which he is perfectly familiar ; we 
 talk of nature, of the universe, and its infinite grandeur 
 and beauty ; of the spirit world and of God, the centre 
 and source of all. Though raised in the Roman faith, 
 he is, I have discovered, more of a philosopher than a 
 Christian, and seems to have a religion of his own, which 
 is based upon his love of the beautiful and good in the 
 world. He says that if we adore nature, we adore God 
 who made it. In a word, his piety is intellectual, not 
 moral; meditative, nothing more; and we have keen ar- 
 guments upon the faith of the New Testament. He said 
 to me to-day, 
 
 "I understand God, but I do not understand Jesus. 
 I do not see the need of Him : He is an incomprehensive 
 enigma to me." 
 
 Ah, me ! I fear I was a poor theologian to argue with 
 an educated mind like his ; but I did my best to show 
 him the true nature and design of Christ's advent; and 
 he listened with great attention, and has promised to 
 read some books I am to lend him. 
 
 Before night we came in sight of the Balize, or "Bea- 
 con," at the outlet of the river, and launched amid the 
 
392 THE SUNNY SOUTU; OR, 
 
 glories of an autumnal evening, upon the azure bosom 
 of the Mexican Sea ; the gleaming lantern of the Pharos, 
 at the mouth of the pass, sending after us a long pen- 
 ciled line of glittering light. 
 
 And such a night upon the sea ! Oh ! how marvellous 
 the universe above, illimitable and unfathomable in its 
 splendid stellar mysteries ! The delicious breezes blew 
 off land, and gently ruffled the bosom of the Gulf. There 
 was a strange light over all the sea, and filling the hea- 
 vens and the air. There was no moon, and it must have 
 come from the myriads of bright stars reflected back 
 from the sea, multiplied in numbers by the reflection. 
 Earth absorbs the star-rays, but the sea seems to receive 
 them mirror-like, to r^-light the sky with. It was as 
 light as dawn, and yet it was near midnight, as I gazed 
 from the deck upon the starry infinity. In the south, 
 Sirius hung like a great electric globe, dazzling the eye 
 like a lesser sun ; Orion walked down the west, sword- 
 armed and belted, flashing like a warrior; and, above 
 him, Aldebaran beamed with those mystic rays which 
 have foretold the fate of empires to astrologers ; higher 
 still hung the Pleiades, like a cluster of grapes, and 
 scintillating with a splendor truly celestial. I never be- 
 fore saw the stars shine so brightly. 
 
 In the north-east, I beheld Arcturus rivaling Sirius 
 in the south, in stellar magnificence; and around the 
 solitary Polar Star (in this latitude, low in the north) 
 paced the Great Bear with majestic strides. Ah! there 
 is nothing in this world so beautiful as a starry night on 
 the sea. Heaven above — heaven around — heaven re- 
 flected beneath. There is such a transparency in the 
 atmosphere, that the skies seem within the reach of the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 39B 
 
 arm. A tranquillity unspeakable reigns in the upper 
 air, and the heart is attracted gently up-svard, and the 
 thoughts irresistibly dwell on heaven and God, and the 
 great eternity, of which the skies are a visible emblem. 
 
 Speaking of the Pleiades, was there ever a seventh? 
 and if not, what becomes of Mrs. Heman's swxet address 
 to the "lost Pleiad?" 
 
 I have always loved the stars — loved them more than 
 the moon. When I was in Tennessee, I was w^alking 
 with a little fellow, of four years, on the piazza, who had 
 just recovered from the measles. He looked up, per- 
 haps for the first time suffered to be up so late, to see 
 the stars, and said to me naively, and as if he had made 
 a discovery, 
 
 "Dear Miss Katy, the sties dot the measles!" "No, 
 buddie," cried his sister, two years older, "they are only 
 all freckled!''' 
 
 Both words are descriptive — and the last decidedly 
 poetical. It was the same little girl who, looking out 
 of the window one foggy morning and seeing nothing, 
 said — 
 
 "It looks as if there were no w^orld!" 
 
 What can be finer than this ? If the sayings of child- 
 ren were printed, they would make a book surpassing all 
 others for naturalness, poetry, truth, and originality of 
 ideas. 
 
 It is past midnight on the sea ! 
 
 Good-night, 
 
 K. C. 
 
394 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 LETTER LII. 
 
 Off Havana. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 With the queen citj of Western Ind just disap- 
 pearing from sight, and the Castle of the Moro visible 
 like a gray speck against the back-ground of the blue 
 hills of Cuba, I retire to my state-room to collect my 
 thoughts, and write you a few pages of a letter. 
 
 The scenery, which is yet visible from the port by 
 which I sit, is beautiful exceedingly. The azure outline 
 of the sunny Isle reclines in majestic repose, like a 
 mighty lion, his form half concealed in the green bosom 
 of the sea. About the frowning Moro floats the smoke 
 of cannon, fired to salute an American ship-of-war, which 
 entered as we passed out. 
 
 Around us are the white sails of full thirty vessels, 
 ships, and brigs, and schooners, steering in all ways; 
 though most of them, like ourselves, are just out of 
 Havana, and are stretching away to the northward and 
 eastwardly. 
 
 You will expect me, I dare say, to give you some ac- 
 count of what I saw in Havana. But the " letter writers" 
 have filled the papers with everything, until Havana is 
 now as well known to Americans as New York. If I 
 spoke of my brief visit, (for it lasted but a day,) I should 
 "write of pure, soft skies of mingled gold and green — of 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 395 
 
 delightful breezes — of tall cocoa and palm trees like 
 kings and queens of the vegetable kingdom, standing 
 gloriously upon hill tops and upon the crests of cliffs, and 
 waving their superb feathers in the passing breeze — of a 
 great castle, gray and old, and dreadfully frowning, 
 hanging from a rock like a giant's eyebrow, with camion 
 beneath, flashing like eyes — and long lines of open- 
 mouthed guns belching forth fire and blue smoke — of 
 dark visaged soldiers, dressed very much in red, and 
 fierce with terrific moustaches — of police-boats, boarding 
 us, filled with blue-coated, black-eyed Spanish ofiicers, as 
 polite as French dancing-masters in bodily gesticula- 
 tions, but looking very dislikable and disliking out of 
 their eyes — of narrow streets — of half-clad Guinea 
 negroes crowding the pier — of guards and military dis- 
 play — of huge-wheeled volantes and gaudily-harnessed 
 mules and postillions, with boots a yard high — of small- 
 sized Spanish generals — of thin-visaged Spanish colonels 
 — and of great pomp, and show, and trumpets, and guns, 
 and cigar smoke, and cigar shops, everywhere — &c., &c. 
 The ladies rode out three on a seat, in open, odd- 
 looking carriages (volantes), wore no bonnets, but had 
 their hair superbly dressed, while they were richly at- 
 tired, as if for a ball. I did not see the '^Paseo" outside 
 of the city, where everybody rides and walks — the 
 "Battery" of Havana — as we had no time; but I had 
 pointed out to me the fortified hill "Antares," on which 
 the devoted Crittenden — who will yet be remembered as 
 the Pulaski of Cuba — with his fifty companions in arms 
 met his dreadful fate. Oh ! what a fearful responsibility 
 in taking away the life of a man which God gave ! God, 
 on one side, giving; man — little, insignificant man, on 
 
396 THE suxNY south; or, 
 
 the other side, taking awaj ! To destroy what we cannot 
 replace is a weighty matter. To destroy, when we know 
 not what we destroy, is the act of madness and folly. 
 Who knows what he does when he kills a man? Who 
 knows what life is ? I think all killing, whether by the 
 assassin or by the law, equally dreadful. Why kill a 
 man to punish him ? It is no punishment to the dead. 
 I do hope that the day is not far distant w^hen humanity 
 will rise superior to this relic of barbarism, "execution 
 of Avrong-doers," and that they may be permitted to 
 live in confinement until they die " by the visitation of 
 God." 
 
 The city of Havana has a very interesting aspect to a 
 Yankee eye. It is so foreign, and unlike any thing we 
 have in the United States. One must certainly go from 
 home to see the world — but at Havana, one not only sees 
 the world, but more, too ! 
 
 The warlike appearance of the entrance to the harbor 
 reminds me of a pair of bull-dogs, crouching and showing 
 their teeth at all corners. What a grand sight a war- 
 ship is, with its rows of cannon looking so meaningly 
 forth from the yawning port-holes, her tall black masts, 
 and yards, and lofty battle-walls of oak ! One passed 
 us two hours ago, and seemed to move as if she were the 
 very empress of the sea. Over her quarter-deck floated 
 the red flag of England, with its double-cross — a fearful- 
 looking ensign when I recalled its associations. Once, 
 to American eyes, that flag was the flag of the foe — and 
 hateful and detested. Against it, Paul Jones the brave 
 hurled his iron shot — and the gallant Preble, and Perry, 
 and Hull, and Bainbridge, fought against and conquered 
 it. As the insignia of conquerors, it waved above the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 397 
 
 trees of Boston Common, floated above the Battery in 
 New York, flashed in the morning sun above the tower 
 of the old State House in Philadelphia, and even cast its 
 dread shadow down upon the dome of the Capitol at 
 Washino-ton. I could not but watch it with interest; 
 but when I glanced above our own decks, and beheld the 
 brilliant stars and stripes waving in the upper air in folds 
 of beauty, I thought, too, of its glories, and my heart 
 bounded with pride, and I could not help mentally apos- 
 trophizing the red flag of Great Britain in this fashion: 
 — "Thou hast hitherto ruled the wave, Britannia, but 
 the day is near when these starry belts shall float, not 
 only over the seas of the globe, but over its broad con- 
 tinents, and the sceptres of the nations shall do homage 
 thereto." 
 
 Oh ! who can predict the glory of our mighty empire 
 
 of republics, Mr. ? Adelante! adelante! onward 
 
 and forward for ever is its destiny, if its rulers fear God, 
 and the people are virtuous and true to themselves. It 
 is said by some one, that history always revolves in cir- 
 cles ; at each vast revolution of centuries bringing back 
 again the same or like scenes, events, circumstances, and 
 issues. No doubt this is true, and that the mighty cir- 
 cle of American history will bring round its "decay and 
 fall of the American Republics" in the course of time. 
 Southey has said finely, but I hope not truly, that "the 
 Republics of the United States are splendid fragments 
 out of which future kingdoms and empires are to be 
 created." 
 
 Speaking of the destiny of my country, forces upon 
 my mind the recollection of Clay, Calhoun, and Web- 
 ster ! Living, they formed a large portion of our glory 
 
898 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 and honor as a nation before the nations. Dead, we 
 have fallen before the nations, just so far as their great 
 names, and deeds, and splendid fame raised us. Alas ! 
 for my native land ! Who can wield the helm of state, 
 or fill the Senate with wisdom needed, surpassing that 
 which Rome or Greece ever knew? Who shall be Web- 
 ster ? who shall be Clay ? who shall be Calhoun ? — in the 
 next Senate, and the Senates after? Far down the de- 
 files of time the voice of inquiry shall pass, ere echo an- 
 swers, "Behold him here!" 
 
 Has it ever occurred to you, sir, that these three 
 mighty men — these three intellectual "Sons of Anak" — 
 represented, personally, mentally, and in all things na- 
 tional, the three great divisions of the Union? New 
 England and the North were embodied in Webster ! the 
 West was personified and incarnate in Clay! the South 
 in Calhoun ! Thus, the North, South, and West, were 
 personated by an intellectual incarnation of its own pecu- 
 liar character in these three men. Each showed the 
 characteristics of the division of the Union from which 
 he sprung. The South could never have produced Web- 
 ster — nor the North, Calhoun — nor the West, either of 
 them — nor either of these. Clay. This idea is worth 
 reflecting upon, and would be a good theme for some 
 eloquent pen. 
 
 But I am making a long letter; and as evening is 
 coming on, and as every body is exclaiming about the 
 Bahama Islands being in sight, I must stop, and go to 
 see these pearls in the belt of old Neptune. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 399 
 
 LETTER LIII. 
 
 Irvinq House, NevT York. 
 
 Dear Mr. : 
 
 From the date of this letter jou see that I am at last 
 in the London of the New World. From Havana to 
 this city, we had a delightful run ; the genii of the wea- 
 ther being in the best of humors, and Neptune so fast 
 asleep that we only knew that he was alive by the regu- 
 lar, deep pulsations of his broad oceanic heart. 
 
 To my surprise, I learned that when the sea is per- 
 fectly calm, and its surface glitters with the polished gla- 
 ciery of a mirror, the outline of its surface is never at 
 rest. So far as waves are concerned, there are at such 
 times none; but there is avast, grand heaving of the 
 sea, as if a mighty, living heart were regularly movino- 
 and lifting it from beneath. The whole ocean seems to 
 breathe ! and its limitless bosom to rise and fall like that 
 of a sleeping man. And this motion of life has been 
 from " the beginning !" Six thousand years it has moved 
 thus in its mighty pulsations, and its heart will continue 
 to move and beat thus after the pulses of the millions 
 that now live will be silent ! What an emblem of eter- 
 nity — a life of six thousand years ! 
 
 On our voyage, we passed a great number of white- 
 sailed vessels, some going, as we were, northwardly, and 
 others steering towards the warm South ; while others 
 
400 ■ THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 met us transversly, coming out of Baltimore and Phila- 
 delj3hia, bound oceanward, or else from Europe, seeking 
 those ports. We also saw three ocean steamers, whose 
 black hulls and trailing clouds of murky smoke, made 
 them seem, as they moved among the vessels with snowy 
 sails, like a sort of demons, saucily intruding into the 
 company of good angels. 
 
 It is very pleasant on the sea, nevertheless, in one of 
 these same " diabolical" looking steamers. Our cabins 
 were magnificent, and we enjoyed every shore luxury. 
 They are ^'Irving Houses" afloat; and we live pretty 
 much as persons do at "springs" in a rainy day that 
 keeps everybody luitJiin doors. There are books in va- 
 riety for the literary, pens and ink for the epistolarian, 
 cards for the play-loving, chess for the quiet, back-gam- 
 mon for the noisy, sandwiches and ale for the hungry, a 
 smoking-room for the smoky, sofas and lounges for the 
 idle and lazily disposed, couches for the sleepy, prome- 
 nades for the restless, and good dinner and plenty of 
 champagne for everybody. 
 
 Our passengers consisted of about forty people, who 
 represented no less than nine nations : a Chinese, a Pole, 
 a Mexican, several Englishmen, several Americans, three 
 Cuban ladies and one Cuban gentleman, four Frenchmen, 
 a Spaniard, and a German traveler with a red moustache, 
 who was called by his valet "Baron." There was also 
 a handsome young man who was a Jew ! 
 
 Has the Jew a nation ? — if so, then we had ten nations 
 represented in our cabin. How extraordinary that one 
 can always tell a Jew ! or rather, let me call them " Is- 
 raelites," which is the honorable name conferred upon 
 them by Jehovah, and by which they like to be distin- 
 
THE SOUTnEENER AT HOME. 401 
 
 guished — the term ''Jew" being quite as repulsive to them 
 as "Yankee" to the New Enghinder. That this wonder- 
 ful people bear the impress of their Oriental origin to 
 this day, after seventeen hundred years of exile and dis- 
 persion, is a continued miracle. The Jew of Chatham 
 street, in this city, is, in every lineament, the Jew of 
 Jerusalem of to-day, and of the Jews of the days of Jesus. 
 In what this peculiarity consists, it is difficult to deter- 
 mine precisely, though an artist, who studies closely the 
 characteristics of feature, might be able to explain. 
 
 It is chiefly in the style and expression of the eyes I 
 think. It is not because the eye is black — for thousands 
 of Americans have black eyes, which are wholly different 
 in expression from the peculiar Jewish eye. The Israel- 
 ite eye is very slightly almond-shaped, the upper lid 
 droops over about one-seventh of the iris of the eye, and 
 gives an indescribable expression ; while the lashes curve 
 backwards, and have the effect of a fringe, more than any 
 other lashes of any other people's eyes. The expression 
 of the whole eye is sad, yet sparkling — dewy, yet brilliant 
 — a sort of April-sky eyei. Dear me ! how difficult it is to 
 put ideas into words — to find the words that exactly 
 paint that which we are endeavoring to describe. Words 
 are very important dresses for thoughts. But if you 
 have ever observed the eye of the Children of Israel, you 
 will be able to understand the peculiarity I would de- 
 scribe. 
 
 How wonderful the presence of this people among us 
 and other nations ! A people, yet without a country ! a 
 religion, yet without altar, priest, or temple ! a God, yet 
 punished by Him with a dispersion of one thousand seven 
 hundred years ! Their present state is a living testimony 
 26 
 
402 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 to the truth of the Bible, wherein it is predicted, as well 
 also, their future restoration to their own country ! 
 
 Perhaps, in connection with them, the fact that their 
 number is still, 3,000,000 of souls, will be deemed not 
 the least extraordinary. This number came out of 
 Egypt with Moses — this number conquered the land of 
 Canaan — this number constituted the nation when David 
 and Solomon were its kings — this number was carried 
 captive to Babylon — and the same number restored again 
 to their land at the re-building of the temple, — the same 
 number were taxed by the Roman conquerors when they 
 brought Judea into subjection — and the same number 
 paid tribute to Caesar — the same number, subtracting the 
 million which perished at the taking of Jerusalem, were 
 cast out among the nations at the destruction of their 
 city by Titus, in the first centujy, when commenced 
 "the dispersion among the nations of the earth," which 
 still continues in so remarkable a manner; and the late 
 census of their people shows that their number is still 
 8,000,000. This, then, is a nation in itself, though a 
 broken one, separated by continents and oceans, fragment 
 from fragment — yet one in feature, one in language, one 
 in religion, one in pursuit, one in all things that have 
 ever given them individuality as a nation. Their num- 
 ber is equal to that of the population of the Thirteen 
 Colonies at the Declaration of our Independence — a num- 
 ber large enough, as our history and the testimony of 
 the world shows, to lay the foundation of a mighty em- 
 pire ! 
 
 For what is this remarkable and careful preservation 
 of the Israelite? Ever dwellins: among; the Gentiles — 
 yet never commingling with them, they never lose their 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 403 
 
 nationality. For what reason tliis preservation of their 
 original numhers ? Without question to be ready to obey 
 the command that shall one day fall upon their awaiting 
 ears : " Up, Israel, and go into thine own land, for I 
 will make of thee a great nation. The glory of Jerusalem 
 shall fill the whole earth, and the kings of the earth shall 
 bring their glory and honor into it, and I will make thy 
 name glorious among the nations." 
 
 And what a spectacle will be presented when they arise 
 as one man to obey the voice of Jehovah ! It will be a 
 second march, like that forth from Egypt. Every land, 
 every city, every town, almost every hamlet, where men 
 trade and do commerce with men, will give up this people 
 amonff them — and this "nation of merchants," laden 
 with gold and silver, the spoils of the Gentiles, shall 
 direct their way towards Jerusalem, the city of their love 
 and pride. From every sea-port will sail ships laden 
 with the sons of Israel, steering for Palestina, and from 
 every inland town go forth wealthy caravans taking the 
 road towards the City of David. The present exodus to 
 California and Australia, for gold of the Gentiles, in a 
 thousand ships, will give a faint idea only of the mighty 
 movement that shall draw the eyes of the world when 
 Israel shall arise in her numbers, and elevating the 
 standard of the "Lion of the Tribe of Judah," gather 
 her outcasts beneath its shadow for the march. 
 
 And when the land of Canaan shall once more shake 
 with the tread of returning Israel — when the thousand 
 cities of her green vales shall be rebuilt — when Jerusalem 
 shall lift up her head from the dust of centuries, and 
 dazzle the world's eye with her regenerated splendor — 
 when the ports of Tyre, Jafi*a, Sidon, and Cesarea shall 
 
404 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OE, 
 
 once more extend their marble piers into the sea to em- 
 brace the commerce of the world — then will the Israelite 
 take his true place among the nations, and, from his 
 geographical position, command the avenues of the earth's 
 commerce. At her feet, on the east, the Gulf of Persia 
 and the Euphrates will pour the wealth of India into her 
 lap—^-on the west, the Mediterranean will enrich her with 
 a thousand fleets — on the north, from the Baltic and 
 Caspian, she will receive the tributes of merchandise — 
 and from the south, from Egypt and the Red Sea, she 
 will lay her hand upon the wealth of Ethiopia and 
 Australia. She will sit enthroned in the true commercial 
 centre of the earth, and, from the vast wealth that her 
 people will carry to her from the nations wherein they 
 have been dispersed, they will be able to control the 
 commercial empire of the whole globe; and this same 
 wealth will enable them to make Judea a land of cities 
 that will rival all those of other lands, and render their 
 country the very heart of luxury, and of the splendor 
 and power of the earth. 
 
 And this is no visionary speculation. It is to come 
 to pass in the years that are before us, for prophecy 
 hath spoken the word. It is from many hours' conversa- 
 tion with the youthful Israelite, our fellow-passenger, 
 that I have become so interested in his nation — hence 
 my enthusiasm in the foregoing pages. 
 
 Very sincerely, your friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 405 
 
 LETTER LIV. 
 
 My Dear Sir: 
 
 You will find me, after having been so near you as 
 New York, receding again from you, and my next letter 
 will be from the bosom of my native hills, in the north 
 of dear New England. My last was written from New 
 York, where we arrived seven days ago, by the Crescent 
 City, as I have already stated. 
 
 The fifth day after reaching that Babel of confusion of 
 tongues and of omnibuses, Isidore and Isabel embarked 
 for England in the steamer. During their brief stay in 
 New York they visited every place of interest, I being 
 in their company, with the addition of Monsieur de 
 Cressy from New Orleans, who had fairly attached him- 
 self — not to me — no, no, — but to our party. 
 
 It was a sad parting that, between Isabel and myself. 
 I accompanied her on board the steamer, and again took 
 leave of her to return to the city. I shed more tears 
 that day than ever I did before, and my eyes still over 
 flow when I reflect that I may never see again the sweet 
 lovely girl, who for three years has been my pupil, and 
 who as a married woman is now fairly launched upon 
 the stormy billows of life. That she will be happy I 
 have no doubt, for M. de Clery is very devoted, and 
 seems every way worthy of her. My only consolation 
 is now in the prospect of letters from her, as she has 
 
406 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 promised to write me every two weeks while she is 
 abroad. The colonel intended to have accompanied his 
 accomplished daughter, but the day before they sailed he 
 received a letter informing him of the death of his over- 
 seer, and of sickness among the slaves upon his estate 
 in Tennessee. He accordingly delayed only to see them 
 embark, and the next day, after accompanying me to 
 the New Haven and Boston cars, to bid me good bye, 
 started for the West, sad at heart, with parting from so 
 beloved a child as Isabel had ever been. When he shook 
 me by the hand to speak ''good bye," his eyes filled 
 with tears; and he said, 
 
 "Be a good girl, Kate! Next to Bel, you are dear to 
 me. Write to me often, for in your letters and Bel's 
 remain my only solace now; and look you, dear Kate, 
 don't fall in love and marry somebody or other that 
 can't appreciate you. Write and tell me all about your- 
 self, and give my love to your dear good mother, and 
 kiss the little folk for me, and don't forget to give them 
 the presents!" 
 
 He then whispered in a low tone, ''Don't lose your 
 heart, Kate, to De Cressy." 
 
 He then — kissed me, Mr. , and I hid my face 
 
 with my thick veil to conceal my tears ; and so I saw the 
 dear good colonel no more ! The best of heaven's beni- 
 sons be upon him ! 
 
 I was not alone in my journey to Boston. I was 
 placed in charge of our Member of Congress from Ten- 
 nessee, who, with his lady, was taking a trip to see the 
 Yankee Capital, and purchase a few Yankee notions as 
 curiosities for their children at home. There was, be- 
 sides, in the cars by chance, M. de Cressy, the handsome 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 407 
 
 young New Orleans gentleman, who was on his way to 
 Montreal. He was very civil and kind, and did all he 
 could to make me cheerful, and pointed out the pretty 
 bits of scenery. The ride to Boston was very dull, all 
 that he could do, and I fear I was very poor company 
 for any one. At length we came in sight of the massive 
 dome of the state-house, crowning the city, to which 
 three years before I had bidden adieu on my way south ; 
 and before I could believe the fact, I found myself in the 
 heart of the city, opposite the United States Hotel. 
 
 We are at the Revere House, a very elegant establish- 
 ment, kept in the finest way. Boston is an odd-looking 
 city, with inexpressibly tortuous streets, and narrow; 
 while the habitations usually are the plainest structures 
 that brick, mortar, and stone can erect. The door en- 
 trances are, half of them, mere square cuts in the brick, 
 wholly destitute of ornament or grace. The public 
 buildings are very grand and massive: but as a city, 
 Boston is surpassed by New York, Philadelphia, and 
 Baltimore. But as to intellect, for great men, for ju- 
 rists, statesmen, and princely educated merchants, no 
 city is its peer. 
 
 I have visited to-day old Fanueil Hall, through which 
 the mighty voice of Webster has reverberated ; also the 
 old State-house, associated with the early Colonial his- 
 tory of the Commonwealth ; also the place of the British 
 massacre in State street; the site of the famous "Liberty 
 Tree;" the wharf from which the tea was thrown into 
 the harbor; the house where Washington lived; and 
 Bunker's Hill, upon which the monument of enduring 
 p-ranite rises like a gigantic needle, hundreds of feet into 
 the blue ether; "the first object to catch the beams of 
 
403 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 the rising sun, Avhich tremble last upon its skj-piercing 
 pinnacle!" 
 
 These Boston folk are very aristocratic — more so and 
 more English than other Americans. They are very 
 literary, too, and among them are a large number of 
 scholars of both sexes. The Countess d' Ossoli, so un- 
 happily lost at sea, was a noble specimen of these Bos- 
 ton literary women. German is a great deal studied 
 here, and where it is not studied, its knowledge is 
 affected. No person here is considered at all literary 
 without German! and the possession of this, without 
 much brains, is a passport into the "Book Society." 
 
 The Boston people dress very primly — the men much 
 more so than the ladies. The latter have a horrid fash- 
 ion of bundling up themselves in cloaks and muffs in the 
 winter, that is monstrous. They look exactly like Kam- 
 schatka merchants waddling about. I had not seen a 
 muff for so many years that they looked perfectly ludi- 
 crous to me. I don't wonder the green Mississippi 
 medical student wrote home that "all the girls in Bos- 
 ton carried young bears in their hands when they went 
 out." 
 
 The churches here are very tall and numerous, and 
 nice looking; but none very elegant. Trinity is a gray 
 massive j)ile of architectural roch^ imposing and fortress- 
 like. St. Paul's is a Grecian temple; Park Street a 
 spire after the old Puritan pagoda fashion, lessening in 
 a succession of white porticoes, one elevated, ad injinitwn, 
 upon another, till it ended "into nothing," as the Hon. 
 Mr. Slick once graphically described the same structure. 
 
 Every body goes to Church here, and it is wicked to 
 be seen in the streets in church hours, on Sunday, ex 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 409 
 
 cept for doctors. Tiding men I believe no longer go 
 about at such times with long rods ''seeking whom they 
 may devour," that is, such small game as little boys play- 
 ing truant from their seats in the pews. 
 
 I have not yet had the pleasure of seeing dear good 
 old Mistress Partington. Everybody seems to be well 
 acquainted with her, but nobody seems to know where 
 she "puts up." All I can learn is, that her maiden 
 name was Green. As soon as I ascertain, I intend to 
 call upon her and pay my respects ; for such an honor to 
 Boston literature should not be lightly passed by. The 
 good dame I understand is very thin, having lost much 
 of her flesh in trying to master the German language, in 
 order to be admitted into the "Blue-Stocking Club of 
 Literary Ladies," the motto of which is "Nulla Comeina 
 sine Germane." The unhappy old lady, it is rumored, 
 dislocated her jaw the third lesson, in trying to pro- 
 nounce "Ich," which it is said has contributed to her 
 leanness, from inability to take only liquids. 
 
 There is a probability of my leaving to-morrow for 
 
 home, dear Mr. , and when I am once more in the 
 
 quiet seclusion of my native village, I shall have nothing 
 of interest to give occupation to my pen ; for the history 
 of one day there is the history of every day in the year. 
 I shall therefore send you but one letter more, informing 
 you of my safe arrival amid the cherished scenes of my 
 childhood. 
 
 Your friend, very truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 
410 THE SUNNY SOUTH; Oil, 
 
 LETTER LV. 
 
 My Dear Sir: 
 
 Once more I find myself seated at the humble old 
 fireside, beneath my mother's roof. Once more I see 
 about me old familiar faces and familiar objects, every 
 one of which carries me back by some association to my 
 childhood. There is the tall mantel-piece, with the same 
 bright brass candlesticks, which have been in use since 
 I remember anything, placed symmetrically one on each 
 end ; the mahogany clock in the corner, with a full moon 
 rising above its round visage in blue clouds, and with face 
 and eyes exactly like my dear old grandmother, whose 
 smooth countenance was as round and good-natured as 
 any full moon you ever saw. There are the two silhou- 
 ette profiles in the jettest bla(j^k of my venerated father 
 and of my mother, facing each other, over the little look- 
 ing-glass between the windows ; my father with a queue, 
 and my mother with a preposterously short waist and 
 high cap — objects that I used to gaze upon with admira- 
 tion when a child, only wondering why they were so 
 black. 
 
 There is also in one corner my little red cricket, on 
 which I used to sit at my mother's knee, and learn the 
 old Puritan catechism, and the dreadful story of John 
 Roojers who was repi-cscnted in a famous wood-cut, tied 
 to a stake, burning, and liis v/ife and nine children, one 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 411 
 
 at the breast, lamentably standing around, with a wicked 
 soldier stirring up the fire. The same little Primer — 
 torn, dirty, with woful-looking dogs' ears — I now see on 
 my mother's triangular little book-shelf in the corner. 
 
 There sits my dear good mother, too, in her low rock- 
 ing-chair, where she has sat, when she sat down at all, 
 since my earliest recollection, with the same three-footed 
 little stand by her side, to hold her thread-box and needle- 
 book, and by night a candle. There she sits now in "7ier 
 corner," as the one opposite used to be called '•'-pas cor- 
 ner," and admiring my New York hat, and wondering 
 "how fashions do change !" She is still handsome, with 
 the same pure complexion of rose-red and white ; the 
 same mild, motherly, kind eye ; the same quiet, serene, 
 almost holy, smile ! But I cannot deceive my loving 
 gaze by denying that she has changed since I left her. 
 Her soft brown hair is streaked with silvery threads, and 
 crosswise her forehead I discern lines that Time has en- 
 graven there with his relentless burin. She will be fifty 
 years of age next Christmas, and yet so gentle has been 
 her disposition, so quiet the flow of the river of her daily 
 life, that she looks (excepting the cross lines and silver 
 hair) not more than five-and-thirty. She looks happier 
 now than ever ; and once in a while I feel that, as I 
 write, her eyes rest lovingly upon me, with a mother's 
 deep love — while gratitude for my return in safety and 
 health fills her soul heavenwardly. 
 
 My little brother and sister are seated on the floor, 
 enjoying the numerous presents which I brought them, 
 and which filled a trunk by themselves ; for not only the 
 colonel sent them man}^ but dearest Isabel and Isidore 
 also. My letter to Charlie, v>-hich you printed so kindly, 
 
412 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 was received by him with uproarious joy. It was the 
 village wonder for a week. All the good dames came in 
 to read, or hear my mother read, a i^eal printed letter in 
 the "noospapers" to a little boy. 
 
 ''Do tell !" Well, who'd ever ?" ''Now only tUnkr 
 ''A'n't it curious ?" were the exclamations of the good 
 souls. 
 
 But if my letter in print created such a sensation 
 among our kind, unsophisticated neighbors, what must 
 have been the sensation produced, think you, sir, at my 
 return home ? It would be difficult to describe the scenes 
 of welcoming which I passed through. Everybody came 
 to see me, old and young, for a mile about ; and for three 
 days I have been holding a levee; and have had to do 
 talking enough for a three volume-book of travels, in 
 order to gratify their homely curiosity about the South 
 and the "black slaves," and cotton, and sugar, and 
 oranges growing on trees, and how there was no snow, 
 and the mocking-birds, and everything which was differ- 
 ent from what they had in New Hampshire. 
 
 " So you've seen fig-trees," said old Deacon Starks, 
 looking at me with great respect. " Zaccheus climbed 
 up into one ; and you have seen jist sich a tree ? And 
 the Master went to one to get figs, and finding none, 
 curst it. Wall, I'd liked to a seed somethin' with my 
 own eyes as is in the Bible." 
 
 " Do you think the loaves is big enuf for aprons, Miss ?" 
 respectfully asked an old maid, a stranger and new-comer, 
 who had been introduced as Miss Tape. 
 
 ''And you say you see pummcgranates on trees," ob- 
 served the deacon, perse veringly ; " well, them are Bible 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 418 
 
 fruits, because as tliej made the seven candlesticks like 
 pummegranates. " 
 
 " And does every South woman sleep with a gun under 
 her pillow, to keep from bein' killed by the black slaves 
 in the night? I wouldn't trust myself among the krit- 
 ters. I never sees one here but I feel skeared, they are 
 so black." 
 
 "It's a marcy you ever got back safe," said old 
 grandam Ford, who was as deaf as a door, and never 
 waited for or expected replies. 
 
 Every dress I have has been borrowed, and my trunks 
 are empty, the contents going the rounds of the neigh- 
 borhood. The truth is, I am the lioness of the village 
 just now ; and I expect that I shall have as many as a 
 dozen offers before New Year's, for it is reported I have 
 "made my fortin teachin' down South," a pedagogical 
 
 miracle, Mr. , which you can vouch for was never 
 
 yet done on the earth. All the beaux are getting mea- 
 sured for new suits at little Billy Buttonhole's, the tailor, 
 who has promised to make seven complete suits by Sa- 
 turday night, when the little Shears knows very well, 
 that with his whole force of one woman and a white- 
 headed lad, Tommy, he can't finish one. One thing is 
 very fortunate, that it is not known here that I am an 
 authoress at all, otherwise I have no doubt that Mr. 
 Font, the village editor of the Democratic paper, "A 
 Voice from the Mountains, and White Hills Democratic 
 Investigator," would be annoying me with the honor of 
 soliciting a contribution for his "Poet's Corner." 
 
 This letter ends my literary career, Mr. . It has 
 
 been brief and obscure, but nevertheless has been plea- 
 sant to me. Monsieur do Crcssy (who chanced to occupy 
 
414 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 the same car with me as far as the depot near this vil- 
 lage, and then continued on to Montreal,) insists that 
 mj letters be collected and published in a volume. Dear 
 me ! / write a bound book ? The idea is alarming. I 
 fear mj letters, which may do well enough for a news- 
 paper, would make a sorry figure between covers. But 
 
 they are yours, Mr. , and if any of your readers 
 
 (those dear friends whom, having not seen, I esteem and 
 love) express a desire to have them put into a volume, 
 I yield my own views to yours and theirs. If they 
 should merit the honor of appearing in a book-form, I 
 would like, if it were not too presumptuous, to call the 
 book : — 
 
 ISABEL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE GOVERNESS AND PUPIL: 
 
 A TALE OP THE WEST AND SOUTH. 
 
 IN A SERIES OF LETTERS, 
 
 BY KATE CONYNGHAM. 
 
 I suggest this title because the letters embrace a little 
 romancero, as you have perceived from the beginning to 
 the end, of which Isabel (not Kate) is the true heroine. 
 Good-bye, Mr. , I thank you for your condescen- 
 sion in admitting my poor writings into your columns, 
 and I feel grateful to those dear friends who have spoken 
 kindly of them. 
 
 With blessings on you all, I remain. 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 Kate Conyngham. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 415 
 
 LETTER LVL 
 
 My DEAR Mr. : 
 
 I KNOW not how, patiently, to reply to your saucy 
 letter to me ! Indeed, you write as if you fancied that 
 "a correspondent once" is a correspondent forever of 
 your Journal. And then to intimate that my little Nee- 
 dle possibly may stand in the way of your getting large 
 Needles for your paper ! How did you find out that I 
 was married? and how did you learn where the quiet 
 corner of the South is where I have been for nearly two 
 years a happy wife? 
 
 Your letter took me quite by surprise, and my sharp- 
 eyed little Needle, Harry, as I was reading it, snatched it 
 with his fat fist, and nearly tore it into fifty atoms, before 
 I could rescue it from his fierce gripe. It was well for 
 
 your sake it was not your head, Mr. -. And jou 
 
 have the coolness to say (I read after I had smootl ed 
 and put the pieces together as well as I could) — the cool 
 effrontery to all married dames to say, that you do not 
 think " that my having got married will lessen aught the 
 interest of my 'Needles' if I will kindly contribute an- 
 other series!" For that speech, in pen and ink, you 
 deserve that every married lady should stop your paper. 
 Indeed ! My being married has not upset my wits, nor 
 
 quite made a fool of me, Mr. , though if you should 
 
 sometimes chance to overhear me talk to Harry in a 
 
416 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 language which has neither dictionary, grammar, nor 
 meaning, you would asseverate that I was for the time 
 a little out ! 
 
 But baby-talk is a young mother's privilege. You 
 men may growl at the cherubs in monosyllables, but you 
 can't talk baby! Harry opens wide and wider his great 
 black eyes at all the pretty things I tell him about 
 ^'horsey eaty corney; cowey moo-moo-mooey ; doggy 
 barkey boo-woo-woo ; chick ey crowey doo-dle-doo-oo ; 
 turkey (which baby calls 'daggins') gobble, gobble, 
 gobble;" and so on, giving extraordinary, and, in my 
 own estimation, very respectable and praiseworthy imi- 
 tations of the noises of animals, especially the barking 
 of Bruno, our huge mastiff; at which I feel assured I am 
 very successful, for the deep notes always set my little 
 Needle to puckering his woful lips, and ending the imi- 
 tation by a genuine bellowing of his own; and the cry of 
 a child thirteen months old is no trifling affair, especially 
 if mamma is out of sugar- candy. 
 
 In such cases nothing stops the dear little angel of a 
 boy but my blowing tremendous blasts upon a tin trumpet, 
 on the homoeopathic principle of like curing like; and 
 his astonishment at the superiority of my tin trumpet 
 performance to that of his own lungs is so great, that he 
 pauses, and gives in — fairly beaten. 
 
 These "little Needles knows a heap," as Aunt Chloe, 
 his old black nurse, said to me this morning, as Harry 
 knocked over a little wooley-crowned black baby, Chloe's 
 grandson, which had crawled near him, and began to 
 amuse himself by sucking an India rubber tooth-biter. 
 *^Mass Harry make little nigga know hi' place!" 
 
 I could not help laughing at the old woman's remark; 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 417 
 
 at the same time could not but feel its truth. The white 
 infant on a plantation very early understands, as if by 
 instinct, its superiority ; while the African child tacitly 
 recognizes it. This African element infused into our 
 humanity is a great mystery. • 
 
 Excuse this blot, Mr. ; Harry has pulled at my 
 
 sleeve in trying to walk round my table, and upset my 
 inkstand shockingly. And while I shake my finger at 
 him, he shakes his wise head from side to side in a 
 cunning way, as much as to say, "No — no, you won't 
 whip baby!" and then he smiles with enchanting confi- 
 dence, looks up into my face with eyes full of love and 
 fun, and ends by putting up his little mouth for a kiss ; 
 for the rogue is conscious that he has done a great mis- 
 chief, which he so often perpetrates in some shape or 
 other through the day, as to be quite familiar with my 
 reproving exclamation of "Ah! naughty Harry!" 
 
 Dear little fellow ! I would not lay the tip of my finger 
 upon his beautiful body, in retribution for all the blots, 
 work-baskets turned topsy-turvy, books torn, and all 
 his miscellaneous misdoings generally. I would not for 
 India's wealth arouse in that dear little heart of his, fear 
 of his mother ! There is so little pure affection on this 
 earth, let it be found sacred and unmarred between the 
 young mother and her heaven-given babe ! 
 
 You should have seen poor little Harry when he was 
 
 christened, Mr. . He was then ten months old, 
 
 and a stout, strong, rosy rogue, with a laughing face 
 that seemed to over-run at the bright eyes with the light 
 
 of joy- 
 
 But when the minister took him into his arms, Harry 
 looked up into the stranger's grave face with a stare of 
 27 
 
418 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 wonder and a slight inkling of fear ; the first shadow of 
 which I ever saw pass across his sunny brow. The deep 
 voice of the clergyman in its solemn tones seemed to 
 make a strange impression upon the child's sensitive 
 nature. All at once he put up his rosy mouth, sweetly 
 open like a young robin's, and with a half-timid, half- 
 coaxing look, pulled the minister by his bands, and drew 
 his face doAvn close to his that he might kiss him ! It 
 was beautiful and touching! The dear, half-frightened 
 child evidently wanted to conciliate and win his enemy 
 over by love ! 
 
 The good man paused in the service, and with a fine 
 smile bent down to the little open mouth, and kissed him 
 so affectionately, and then patted his cheek so kindly, 
 that Harry at once took courage and confidence, clasped 
 his little fists together, a smile like heaven lighted up 
 his face, and he nestled in the arms of the clergyman 
 with a confidence and trustfulness, in singular contrast 
 with his doubt and timidity a moment before. 
 
 Oh ! how powerful is love ! It is thus that God would 
 have us lift up our lips to Him in prayer, and thus He 
 will bend down and bless us, making us happy and at 
 peace with the assurance of His tender afi'ection. Harry 
 received the cold baptismal rain upon his curly head 
 without a change in his smiling face. With ''the cross 
 upon his brow," I received my child back from God's 
 altar, where I had thus dedicated him ; and like a Crusader 
 bearing the cross, I trust he will be to his life's end a 
 faithful soldier in the host of the Captain of his salva- 
 tion ! 
 
 How can a mother clasp to her heart from week to 
 week an uncon^ecrated child, remaining as it was born, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 419 
 
 unsanctified by the living waters of the church's foun- 
 tains? It was the little children Jesus took up in His 
 arms ; it was the little children He commanded mothers to 
 bring to Him ! Since the christening of my dear Harry 
 I love him far more, and I lie down with him in peace, 
 knowing that, should he be called from my arms, he was 
 first placed by me in the arms of Jesus, in the bosom of 
 His church. 
 
 But to your letter, Mr. , desiring me to do you 
 
 the favor to renew my letters, or "Needles," which you 
 kindly say "were not only w^ell received, but are yet 
 much inquired after!" I am not ungrateful for the kind 
 interest my poor epistles have awakened in the hearts 
 of many, whom I shall never know in this world. For 
 their pleasure, I am ready to begin a new "paper of 
 Needles;" but now, that I am married, these dear readers 
 must expect that my little Needle, "Harry," will figure 
 a good deal in them. 
 
 I am living very retired, with but few subjects of in- 
 terest, other than domestic ones. My house is a para- 
 dise of love and peace. My husband seems to think 
 only of me and Harry — to forget himself for us! In 
 my next letter I will describe my home in the Sunny 
 South, and, perhaps, I may find subjects enough around 
 me to give some interest to my Needles. But I have 
 
 first a word to say, Mr. , before I fairly consent to 
 
 be your correspondent. I do not wish you to alter my 
 letters, or, in your masculine dignity, cut out any 
 "baby-talk," or baby affairs, that may be in them; for 
 my nursery is my world just now, and Harry the most 
 important personage in this little world of cradle and 
 
420 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 painted toys! Perhaps in that greater nursery, the 
 WORLD itself, bearded men are quite as much, 
 
 " Pleased with a rattle, and tickled with a straw," 
 
 as Harry in the lesser one. 
 
 Farewell, Mr. , 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Kate de C. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 421 
 
 LETTER LYII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 How provoking it is to be mistaken for somebody 
 else besides one's self! Until a few days ago I was not 
 aware that the celebrated Miss Conyngham of England, 
 who traveled through Italy and Austria distributing 
 tracts, for which she was imprisoned, was thought to be 
 me ! I really hoped that my thousand dear friends who 
 knew me through my pen, had a better opinion of Kate 
 than to suppose she could give herself up to such a 
 fanaticism as marked the wild career of the Miss Conyng- 
 ham who frightened Austria, and like to have set Eng- 
 land and its Emperor by the ears ! 
 
 It is true, our party went to Europe after Isabel's 
 marriage, where my husband and I joined her, and we 
 were traveling at that time ; but while Miss K. Conyng- 
 ham was in prison in Austria, Miss Kate Conyngham as 
 a bride, was climbing Ben Nevis in bonnie Scotland, 
 leaving none but her own trades (French No. 2's) in the 
 heather. This I wish to be distinctly made known ; for 
 though I have no objection to be a tract distributor, yet 
 I hope I have common sense enough not to court martyr- 
 dom as my namesake seems to have had a fancy to do. 
 
 I do not know but that I shall be compelled, Mr. 
 , to send you a full account of my travels, to show 
 
422 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 you I never was arrested by Austrian police, but in all 
 my journeyings behaved myself like a nice young wife, 
 who has no taste for dungeons, except in Mrs. Radcliifes 
 novels, and who has a perfect horror of a diet of dry 
 bread and water. If I should send you my travels, I 
 should write about the wonders of our voyage : the things 
 I saw in England, what I saw in Erance, the adventures 
 we met with in Spain; of our sojourn in Florence and 
 Naples; our yachting cruise over to Malta, and the 
 various escapes and marvelous incidents which gave zest 
 and romance to our tour ; and I should be sure and not 
 forget to tell all about my marriage, and how I saw and 
 spoke with the Queen by an odd accident, with all sorts 
 of things besides. 
 
 But as I have promised to give you in this letter a 
 description of my dear home in the South, whence I 
 write these letters, I will here fulfill my promise, and 
 leave my "Tour to Europe" for subsequent "Needles." 
 
 If you will take the map and find New Orleans, you 
 will soon learn where I am by following the noble Father \ 
 of Waters up as far as Donaldsonville, twenty-five leagues 
 north from the city. At this pretty French village, 
 which sleeps half buried in the foliage of China shade 
 trees and Acacias, is the mouth of the lovely stream 
 called Bayou La Fourche. A bayou is not, however, 
 exactly a stream, but a sort of natural canal going 
 laterally from one piece of water to another, uniting 
 both ; as for instance, a stream flowing from the Delaware 
 straight across to the Schuylkill, would be a bayou. In this 
 part of the world, where the green land is as level as the 
 blue sea, these intersecting branches form a net-work of 
 internal navigation, as if the whole land were cut up into 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 423 
 
 winding canals. This feature of the country makes it 
 very beautiful, as oaks, and elms, and laurels, fringe 
 their banks; and in their graceful curves they embrace 
 now on one side, and now on the other side, crescent- 
 shaped meadows waving with sugar cane, and dotted with 
 majestic groves like islands of foliage resting on the 
 bosom of the pleasant land. 
 
 For thirty miles in the interior this lovely region is 
 level as the sea, and islanded by dark green groves of 
 oak, at intervals of a half mile or mile apart. The boat 
 passes villas inunmerable, whose gardens touch the water, 
 and old French villages half hid in shade, while in the 
 distance, for every half league, tower the turreted sugar- 
 houses, like so many castles. 
 
 It would require a highly poetical pen to picture justly 
 the beauty of such a thirty miles trip into the luxurious 
 heart of Louisiana. At length four hours after leaving 
 the Mississippi, appear, over the woodlands of a fine 
 estate belonging to an eminent judge, the spires of 
 Thibodeaux, an old French town, extremely quaint and 
 picturesque. Here the steamer stops to land its pass- 
 engers, who are mostly French, and will also land you, 
 Mr. , if you are on a visit to see me. 
 
 Standing on the Levee, you will see the steamer move 
 on again further up the pretty bayou, and still for an 
 hour, when ten miles oif, its black pillar of smoking 
 cloud can be discerned, ascending along the horizon like 
 the jet from a far-off volcano. If the steamer you have 
 left continues on her winding course west and south for 
 five hours, she will reach the Gulf of Mexico, and so 
 passing round the Gulf coast re-enter the Mississippi, at 
 its mouth, and so get back to New Orleans, thus com- 
 
424 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OE, 
 
 passing, by the aid of river, bayou, and gulf, a complete 
 circle around the city with a radius of a hundred miles. 
 Planters often make use of this mode of communication 
 to ship their sugar to schooners anchored at the Gulf 
 mouth of the bayou. If the English had been acquainted 
 -with this inland water route they would have reached 
 New Orleans, surprising it by a descent from up river 
 upon it. 
 
 It was to Lafitte they made such magnificent ofi'ers to 
 pilot them through such a bayou, that of Barataria; 
 which, outlaw as he was, he nobly refused. Parties ou 
 excursions from plantations frequently, in their pleasure 
 boats, go down to the Gulf and spend a week or two; 
 living a sort of wild and romantic gipsey life on the 
 green islands that gem the shore of the Gulf. One of 
 these parties I recently joined, and may some time give 
 you a description of its pleasures and famous adven- 
 tures. 
 
 But I will not leave you standing any longer with 
 carpet-bag in hand on the Levee of Thibodeauville, Mr. 
 
 , but direct you up the tree-bordered bayou bank to 
 
 another bayou, which comes into the larger one close by 
 the chief village street. It is a pleasant walk. You 
 will find little French negroes rather troublesome, asking 
 ^'mass, for tote he saddle-bag;" but you are an old 
 traveler, sir, and have escaped alive from the landing 
 place at Calais — a dreadful place, and which I shall 
 never forget. 
 
 The pretty walk along the water bank will, in five 
 minutes, bring you to the bayou, Tekre Bonne. Its 
 course is at right angles with the bayou La Fourche. 
 Thibodeaux village stands right in the angle between 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 425 
 
 the two, one being in front, the other on the west side. 
 When you come to this bayou you will see that it looks 
 like a canal, rather than a natural stream. A small 
 bridge crosses it, and leaning over its railing you will sec 
 gray-headed old Frenchmen fishing, and boys catching 
 shrimps in nets. Trees bend over them, the water 
 sparkles below, brown Creole laundresses are singing as 
 they wash their clothes in the water, and altogether it is 
 a pretty scene. Near the bridge you will see four or 
 five barges or market-boats, with brown lateen sails, and 
 laden with vegetables and fruit. They are manned by 
 two or three sable-skinned slaves, usually by an aged, 
 gray-headed African and an ivory-toothed urchin. They 
 have come that morning some five miles, some fifteen, 
 from their master's plantations, to sell marketing, and 
 make purchases for home. These boats are constantly 
 going up and down this narrow bayou, Terre Bonne, 
 for it flows through a rich and populous sugar region of 
 the finest sugar estates in the South, and forms their 
 only water communication with the villages and towns. 
 
 But you will be likely to see, moored about in the 
 shadows of the bridge, one or more pleasure yachts, in 
 which some members of the family have come up from 
 their plantations, situated where the sky and level hori- 
 zon meet. Perhaps one of them brought down a freight 
 of lovely girls and their noble dark-eyed mamma, and 
 good-looking aunts, to shop among the treasures of dry- 
 goods, jew^elry, and millinery, of the fashionable stores 
 in Thibodeaux ; or, perhaps, a plantation household of 
 merry children are come up to the village to see the cir- 
 cus, and especially that wicked, good-for-nothing Dandy 
 Jack ride the pony ; the boys of the party going homo 
 
426 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 again, to turn the lawn into an arena, and all the shaggy 
 ponies into circus steeds, compelling some plantation 
 native Dan Rice, jr., to be clown." 
 
 Or, perhaps, you will see there the elegant yacht of 
 
 the two rich brothers, M. Louis and M. Adolphe , 
 
 w^ho have come up from their estate, two hours' sail 
 down the bayou, to pass an afternoon, playing billiards, 
 and to meet the young girls that happen to be in town 
 shopping, from the neighboring estates, for on certain 
 days (usually Saturday, by general consent), everybody 
 goes to town, and anybody that wants to see anybody is 
 likely to find everybody on the street. Indeed, for the 
 surrounding planters, the village is an ^'Exchange" on 
 that day, not only for young fellows and maidens to ex- 
 change glances, and, perhaps, hearts, but for their papas 
 to get money for their sugar, or see to its shipment, and 
 lay in their stores. 
 
 If it should be on Saturday that you arrive, Mr. , 
 
 you would see many a cushioned barge lying in the bayou 
 waiting for its fair occupants to return to their homes. 
 Also, you would find no lack of handsome carriages and 
 caparisoned saddle-horses under the care of servants ; 
 for along the bayou winds, at one with it in all its mean- 
 derings, a summer road, level as a bowling-alley, bordered 
 by woodland oaks, orange groves, country-seats, flower- 
 ing gardens, fields of waving cane, bending with a bil- 
 lowy motion to the overpassing wind, like the surface 
 of an emerald sea. If you wish to reach my home early 
 in the day, you had best take the road, for the land 
 route will bring you much sooner. But if you are at 
 leisure, and enjoy a moonlight sail, you will take one of 
 the boats. But as they are all private barges, you will bo 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 427 
 
 SO kind as to step on board that one which you see is 
 painted green, with plum-colored cushions and a little 
 flag pendant over the stern, on which, when the wind 
 blows out its azure folds, you will read " The Isabel." 
 
 That is my yacht, and I know your good taste will 
 admire it very much, and thank me very kindly, as you 
 suppose, for sending it for you. But I did not send it, 
 being ignorant wholly of your visit, Mr. ; never- 
 theless, step into it, and tell "Zephyr," which is the 
 name of the respectable-looking negro pilot you will see 
 
 in care of it, that you are Mr. ! That name will 
 
 be a talisman ! You will see his eyes shine, and his lips 
 open wide, with a quiet laugh of internal satisfaction. 
 " Ah, bress my soul ! Missy Kate mity proud to see 
 Mass' Editum. I berry grad to hab dat honor miself !" 
 and Zephyr will take off his straw hat and make you as 
 superb a bow as a king's, nothing less dignified, and he 
 will then look around upon the other boatmen with an 
 air of triumph, as much as to say, " Go 'way I Here's 
 Mass' in dis boat here ! De greatest gemman in Philla- 
 mydellfum ! Back you oars, niggas ! you got notin' to 
 do in dis bayou !" 
 
 Such would be Zephyr's probable salutation. But he 
 will not at once set off with you. He will tell you he 
 expects Massa and the ladies, and in a few minutes you 
 will see a gentleman and two lovely girls approaching, fol- 
 lowed by two servants laden with their purchases. The 
 gentleman has a very dark, handsome countenance, lighted 
 up by fine hazel eyes. His complexion is a rich, warm 
 brown. He wears whiskers, no mustache, but his coal- 
 black hair flows long and in very slight curl to his shoul- 
 ders. He wears a huge broad-brimmed sombrero, and a 
 
428 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 complete suit of white linen. He has the quiet, self- 
 possessed air and gentle bearing of a man of education 
 and taste. You will see that he is a "gentleman," and 
 YOU will take a liking to him at sight ; he has such a 
 frank smile and so handsomely shows his splendid teeth. 
 
 Guess who he is, Mr. ? You would not suppose 
 
 that he was more than seven and twenty, but his intel- 
 lectual and thoughtful brow gives the appearance of 
 three or four years more. Not to keep you in suspense, 
 as he and his beautiful companions are close upon you, 
 I will introduce you. 
 
 " My husband, Mr. !" 
 
 I see you look surprised, and bow imperially, with a 
 little snip of jealousy, for I know you were never recon- 
 ciled to my getting married ! Somehow you editors 
 fancy that your lady contributors are betrothed to you, 
 (editorially,) and that the Journal is their husbands ! 
 Dear me ! what an idea ! 
 
 When Zephyr shouts out your name, my husband, who 
 has already known you by reputation, will give you a 
 right down hearty and hospitable welcome ; and introduce 
 you to his sweet cousins,, who will express their delight 
 at seeing you ; and so they will take you prisoner into 
 the boat, and you will have one of the most charming 
 boat rides you ever enjoyed, for five hours at four miles 
 an hour. You will be rowed when the wind lulls, and go 
 under sail when there is any stirring. You will wind 
 round sugar fields, you will pass between gardens, you 
 can talk with the people as they sit on their piazzas, and 
 perhaps pacing along the bank road, will be two or three 
 cavaliers who ride by the side of the boat as it moves on, 
 as they would by a carriage, and chat with you. Night 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 429 
 
 with its stars and silvery moon finds you still moving 
 along amid the bosom of the beautiful level land, which, 
 in the obscurity, with its groups of great trees, seems like 
 a dark sea studded with rounded isles. 
 
 Twenty miles from town you reach another bayou, 
 flowing westward. A league farther, mostly among the 
 gigantic trees of a Louisiana forest, and your boat comes 
 suddenly into an open lake, a mile wide and three miles 
 long, a gem of lakes buried in the green heart of this 
 lovely land. A few minutes afterwards you land at a 
 pier near a garden gate ; and the next moment I grasp 
 your hand and welcome you to my home. 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate. 
 
430 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER LVIII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 In my last letter I took you, will you nill you, on a 
 journey to my forest-emburied home. Landing you 
 safely upon the pier, at the gate which enters the lawn 
 of live-oaks, that stretches between the house and the 
 beautiful expanse of water in front, I gave you a warm 
 and hospitable welcome. The same welcome I will joy- 
 fully extend to any of your friends, who think enough of 
 me to turn out of the way of the great Father of Waters, 
 to seek me out amid the heart of this lovely region of the 
 South. 
 
 I will describe to you my home, or rather, as you have 
 been here, (haven't you ?) I will imagine you writing a 
 description of what you saw home to your wife in some 
 such sort as follows : 
 
 '' Dear Wife : — This epistle is written at ^ Illewalla,' 
 or ' Lover's Lake,' which is the translation of the soft 
 Indian name. It is the romantic and charming home of 
 my old correspondent, ' Kate, of the Needles.' I cannot, 
 with ray prosaic pen, begin to present to your mind's eye 
 the peculiar beauty of this retreat. On my way up from 
 New Orleans to Louisville, I determined to stop and see 
 my fair friend, in her own home ; and having obtained 
 the direction, I embarked at New Orleans on board the 
 steamer ^Dr. Beattie,' for Thibodeaux. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 431 
 
 "We steamed up the Mississippi to Donaldson ville, 
 eighty miles, and thence diverged into a narrow stream, 
 called Bayou Lafourche. Along this winding water we 
 sailed thirty miles more, through a lovely land of groves, 
 sugar-fields, meadows, villas, and villages. At Thibo- 
 deaux, I embarked upon another bayou, crossing the level 
 country, and two hours after the rising moon, reached 
 the abode of Kate, situated picturesquely on the green 
 shore of a small Indian lake, that one can row around in 
 an hour. The shores are fringed by noble trees, and bor- 
 dered by a belt of the purest sand. Silence and beauty 
 reign there. One fine feature of this land is, that the 
 forests have natural lawns, beneath like the leveled sward 
 of an English park. Hence it is pleasant to roam on 
 foot or ride through them, and one can gallop all around 
 the lake amid the forest trees without checking bridle. 
 This lake is fed by a living fountain in its pellucid depths, 
 and so clear are its waters, that the trout, pickerel, and 
 other angler's finning game, can be seen darting far be- 
 neath the surface in glittering lines ; while, in the still- 
 ness of the night, their splashing leaps at intervals break 
 the starry silence. 
 
 "At length, I approached the house. Vases of large 
 size, containing rare West Indian plants, stood on each 
 side of the spacious steps, filling the air with delicious 
 odors. Crossing the noble piazza, which was broad 
 enough for a company of soldiers, fourteen abreast, to 
 march round upon it, I, as the chief guest, was ushered 
 by ' Kate' into a wide and high hall adorned with exqui- 
 site statuary and noble pictures. The drawing-room 
 opened into it. This was furnished with light and elegant 
 furniture, chiefly of Indian-cane and rosewood. Every- 
 
432 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 thin<x had that imdenfiable air of taste and comfort, with- 
 out garish show, which a poetic mind loves to dwell in. 
 
 "I passed a delightful evening. I felt perfectly at 
 home. Col. C, the husband of Kate, seemed to vie with 
 her in making me feel so. The library opened from the 
 drawing-room, and when I say its walls were wholly con- 
 cealed by carved oaken cases, filled from floor to ceiling 
 with all the wealth of a real scholar's book-treasures in 
 all tongues, you will understand how elegant and tempt- 
 ing a place it is. 
 
 "My sleeping apartment opened from this pleasant 
 library, and also looked out upon the lawn. So delight- 
 fully situated, I could not resist the temptations which en- 
 vironed me. Instead of retiring, I lingered till midnight 
 in the library, gazing over the rare volumes which then, 
 for the first time, met my eye ; and when I resolved to 
 go to bed, a glimpse of the lake through my window, 
 shimmering in starry brightness, chained me to it for half 
 an hour, listening to the leaping fish, the distant notes 
 of a mocking bird, or contemplating the calm- beauty of 
 the scene. It was past midnight when I sought my pil- 
 low, thankful to the Creator of the world that there 
 lingered yet on earth many such fragments of our Lost 
 Paradise in Eden ; and inwardly determining to find soon 
 for myself such a piece of paradise as this one, and under 
 my own oaks, dwell at peace, far from the roar of the 
 drays of commerce, and the din of town. 
 
 "Your affectionate husband, (and all that.y 
 
 There, Mr. , there is your letter ! — You certainly 
 
 describe pretty well, but permit me to say, that I have 
 no objections to your letter, except that you did not say 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 433 
 
 one word about mj hahe! Now if you were a "bachelor, 
 I could easily account for this silence ; for it is, to be 
 sure, beneath the dignity of old bachelors to allude to 
 Buch subjects. But as you are a married man, and have, 
 I don't know how many, roguish mouths to kiss and feed, 
 
 your silence is quite shocking. The truth is, Mr. , 
 
 you have never forgiven me for taking a husband ; now I 
 can assure you I can write just as well, as when I was a 
 spinster, and perhaps a great deal better; for I shall be 
 able to draw on my husband's fine mind for ideas when 
 my poor brain runs shallow. 
 
 Now that you and my dear thousand friends know 
 where I am, and all about my home, I will, for the rest 
 of my ^'Needles," say little more about it. I only wish 
 you all to know that I am charmingly situated, happy 
 as I deserve to be, and only wish that all for whom I take 
 such pleasure in writing these letters, were as happy. 
 Home is heaven's type. What place this side heaven, 
 besides "home," a home of love and confidence, resem- 
 bles the Paradise above ? Jesus, to express his desolate- 
 ness, said touchingly, "I have not where to lay my 
 head!" 
 
 Among the myriads of elegant and happy homes of 
 earth, not one was His ! There can be no more eloquent 
 expression of human desolation than His sad words con- 
 vey. And to throw a sanctity about earth's homes, 
 (which were not for Him,) He calls heaven a place of 
 "homes." "In my Father's house are many mansions." 
 There we shall not be wanderers through the infinite 
 spaces of the heavens, but shall have homes, where we 
 can gather around us all the loved and lost of earth ! 
 Let us, therefore, love our earthly homes, and make 
 28 
 
434 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 them as much like heaven, in love, as we can, that we 
 may be better fitted for the heavenly habitations that 
 adorn the golden streets of "the city of God." With- 
 out love there can bo no true home, without home no 
 heaven. 
 
 A home in the country is the loveliest of all earthly 
 ones. One is more with nature? One communes with 
 the stars, the clouds, the trees, the water, the birds ! 
 Man was not made for towns ! Adam and Eve were 
 created and placed in a garden. Cities are the results 
 of the fall. The first thought of the sinful men after 
 the flood was, " Go to ! Let us build us a city !" If men 
 had remained in a nomadic state, the race would have 
 been far better and happier, that is, if cultivated by 
 arts, letters, and religion. Cities are the effects of sin. 
 There is no greater truism on record than this, that 
 " God made the country, and man made the town." 
 
 When I ride out of a morning, instead of threading 
 my way through crowded and noisy streets, I canter 
 with joy and freedom along a beautiful lane two miles 
 long, with waving fields of sugar-cane on either side, 
 and hedges of Cherokee rose bordering the way, and 
 shade trees meeting almost over my head, their low and 
 far-reaching branches sometimes compelling me to stoop 
 to the pummel, as I dart like a deer beneath. Some- 
 times, indeed, I have a race with a deer or stag, which, 
 caught browsing in the green lane, and seeing me com- 
 ing, darts off like an arrow, a challenge which "Buc- 
 cleugh," the name of my handsome brown horse, (though 
 called "Buck" for short,) never refuses to accept, nor 
 his mistress either ; but we are always beaten, of course, 
 for the stag seems fairly to fly, and soon loses himself 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 435 
 
 to siglit ill the sliady recesses of his native woodhmd ! 
 Some mornings I rise with the crows, (for they are the 
 earliest risers of all the winged fowls,) and take a can- 
 ter around my Lake, upon the white, hard sand-belt 
 that enriches it. It is a three miles' complete ride 
 round, and the only sound heard in the stillness is the 
 patter of the hoofs of Buck upon the beach. On the 
 bosom of the Lake float flotillas of wild swans, fleets 
 of black ducks, and the long-legged heron wades far out 
 from the shore to catch his morning's breakfast. As I 
 advance, I awake all the birds, startle the squirrels, and 
 put life into the groves that border the Lake. 
 
 Now is not all this far better than any thing a city 
 can give? And then I can ride in what costume I 
 please. I can hang my bonnet on the pommel of the 
 saddle by the strings and gallop bare-headed ; and, if 
 I want to sing and shout, I can do so, as loud as I 
 please, and nobody to say a Avord about ^^ propriety" and 
 *' becomingness," and all that primness ; nobody but 
 Mr. Echo, who always joins in with me, and shouts as 
 loud as I ! A merry and social solitary gentleman of 
 the forest he is, who never ventures into cities, but keeps 
 all his accomplishments for the country ; but then he will 
 always have the last word ! 
 
 A favorite termination of my ride is a little mound, 
 green and flower-besprent, about half round the Lake 
 and close to the water. It is called the grave of 
 Norkamah and Anama, two Indian lovers of hostile 
 tribes, who, rather than be separated, walked one moon- 
 light night, their arms folded about one another, slowly 
 out into the Lake, singing as they went, their death- 
 song. This was their doom, to which the chiefs con- 
 
436 THE SUNNY south; or^ 
 
 demned them, unless they would cease to love ! Cease 
 to love ! How little those stern warriors knew of the 
 hearts of the young ! how little knew what youthful love 
 
 is ! Cease to love ! True love never ceases, Mr. ! 
 
 It is immortal ! As well might these chiefs say to the 
 rose-tree, Cease to blossom ! to the full fountain, Cease 
 to flow ! to the stars, Cease to shine ! as to the young 
 heart, " Cease to love !" 
 
 So they could not cease to love, Norkamah and Ana- 
 ma, and with hand clasped in hand, and singing, they 
 walked down in the water. Their song ceased only when 
 their lips were kissed by the limpid waves that opened 
 to make within their deep bosom a grave for love ! 
 
 Hence the Lake is called Illewalla, or Lover's Lake. 
 Their spirit-forms are said to hover about the place 
 where, on the banks, their bodies are buried in one 
 grave, above which the Indian youths and maidens 
 erected the green mound that now marks the spot. It 
 is said that on the anniversary of the night of their 
 death, they are seen coming up out of the water, toge- 
 ther, as they went down into it, arrayed in pure white, 
 with a star upon each brow, and that they are heard to 
 sing not their mournful death-song, but a song that tells 
 of never-dying love ! and that all the singing birds take 
 up the sweet refrain from every tree, and that the whole 
 shore of the Lake is vocal with 
 
 " Love, love, never ceases ! Oh, love never dies V 
 
 A pretty idea, Mr. , and I wish some one of your 
 
 talented poetic correspondents would put the words into 
 a song. Very truly yours, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 43T 
 
 LETTER LIX. 
 
 Dear Mr.- 
 
 This evening, about an hour before sundown, I was 
 seated in the library, looking over a port-folio of superb 
 engravings, which my ever attentive husband had brought 
 with him from New Orleans, as a birth-day gift to me ; 
 for he is very good to remember every anniversary in 
 any way associated with me, or my happiness. One of 
 these engravings was a large representation of "The 
 Descent from the Cross." While I was sadly contem- 
 plating it, and trying to realize that such a scene had 
 actually passed on earth, I heard behind me an exclama- 
 tion from my old black nurse, "Aunt Winny," "Bress 
 de Lor' ! dat am zact image ob de Lor' !" 
 
 I looked round and beheld the eyes of the good old 
 African woman fixed steadily and in a sort of adoring 
 wonder upon the pale, majestic face of the pictured Sa- 
 viour. In her arms struggled little Harry, with hands 
 and feet outstretched to get at the picture, for he has a 
 great fancy for engravings. 
 
 "Sure, de young Mass' Harry shall see it! Look, 
 Missis, how he lobe de Saviour 'ready !" and she held the 
 child so near that it put out its little rose-bud mouth and 
 kissed the face of Christ ; for the little fellow is full and 
 running over with love, and kisses everything that pleases 
 him, sometimes his toys and bouquets ; and once, I caught 
 
438 THE suxNY south; oh, 
 
 liim kissing with great delight his own little, chubby, dim- 
 pled arm. 
 
 "De marcy ! Did you see dat, Missy Kate!" ex- 
 claimed Aunt Winny, wdth amazement and joy. " Dis 
 chil' good nuff to go rite up to Heaben ! who ebber see 
 de like?" 
 
 Aunt Winny, with her Nubian-eyed daughter Eda, 
 was a present to me from the colonel, Isabel's father, 
 wdiom I trust you have not forgotten. Isabel is living 
 near Mobile, on the Lake Ponchartrain, in an elegant 
 villa, in sight of the sea ; and as I shall soon pay her a 
 visit, you will hear from her through my gossiping pen. 
 She is a dear, good, old, pious soul, (I mean Aunt Winny,) 
 and looked up to by the rest of the servants as a sort of 
 saint, en silhouette. 
 
 " Aunt Winny, how came you to say this face in the 
 picture is that of the blessed Lord ?" I asked; for I 
 knew that there was a devoutly believed tradition in the 
 colored part of the family that " she had seen Jesus in a 
 vision;" and I presumed lier remark had in some way 
 reference to this. 
 
 " Coz, Missy Kate, I hab de fabor of habbin see de 
 Lor'," answered Winny, w^ith a solemn air. 
 
 "■ How Avas it. Aunt Winny, and when ?" I asked. 
 
 "Ah, bress de baby ! If he wos on'y quiet one minute, 
 and not kick so like a young bear, I'd gib you my 'xpe- 
 rience." 
 
 "I would like to hear it of all things," I answ^ered. 
 '' Florette shall take Harry down to the Lake to see Nep- 
 tune swim." 
 
 So the noisy little fellow was transferred to a pretty, 
 little, dark-eyed, Creole maid of fifteen, who speaks only 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 439 
 
 French, and which my husband's mother presented to me ; 
 and who acts as a sort of sub-nurse to Aunt Winny, Eda 
 being as formerly my tasteful dressing maid. 
 
 " Well, Missy Kate, dc Lor' is good ! I hope to lib 
 to see dat Mass' Harry a grand Bishop. He know'd de 
 Lor' soon as he seed him on de pictur' ! Sartain de chiF 
 did. But den babies is so little while ago come from the 
 Lor' up in Heaben, dat dey a'n't had time to forgot him. 
 Dat de reason Mass' Harry 'member him and kiss 
 him ! " 
 
 '' This was a good reason, no doubt, Aunt Winny," I 
 said ; " but now to your experience. While I am finish- 
 ing this piece of crochet-work, you tell me your whole 
 story." 
 
 The dear, good, old woman, w^hose face is the very 
 picture of human kindness, (done on a black ground,) then 
 clasped her hands in a pious way and rolled her v»^hite- 
 orbed eyes solemnly to the ceiling — a queer expression, 
 which little Harry, who imitates everything, has caught 
 to perfection, giving it with the drollest precision. She 
 then heaved a long sigh and began : — 
 
 " You sees. Missy Kate, I wos com' from ol' Wirginny 
 to Tennessee, an' I had a heap o' troubles leavin' my 
 folks, an' two childer, an' everybody I know'd way 'hind 
 me. So I felt drefful bad-like, and took on miserable 
 about it ; an' after we'd got into Tennessee, and moves 
 to Big Barren Creek, I cried many a night about it ; 
 and went 'bout mazin' sorry-like all day, a wishin I was 
 dead and buried !" 
 
 ^'Why, Aunt Winny!" 
 
 "Yiss, I did. Missis! I wasn't 'ligious then, and 
 didn't know how to take troubles. Well, one day as I 
 
440 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 was gwine down to de spring in de hollor, I hearn a voice 
 right ober my head. It say, 
 
 "'What you do now? You got nobody care for you 
 in dis wir country! Whar you get friend but Jesus 
 Christ?' 
 
 "Bress de Lor', Missis, it made me look up skeared 
 eenamost to nothin', coz there wasn't no tree nor nothin' 
 it could come from ober head, on'y de open blue sky." 
 
 "But did you hear a voice?" I asked with a tone ex- 
 pressive of my full scepticism. 
 
 "Hear? bress de heart! to be sure, Missy Kate, I did 
 hear de voice plain as I heard you speak dis blessed 
 minute. It sounded like a silver trumpet speakin' to 
 me!" 
 
 "Where did you ever hear a silver trumpet speak?" I 
 asked wickedly of the good woman. 
 
 "Nebber, Miss, but den I hear read bout 'em in der 
 Bible, and knoivs how I tink dey sound." 
 
 This was emphatically said, and silenced me. 
 
 "This voice I know'd was Master Jesus Christ himself 
 talkin'," resumed the old nurse with dignity. "It made 
 me feel mighty bad, and I determined from dat minnet 
 I'd get deligion! AYell, Missy Kate," continued Aunt 
 Winny with a sigh, "I was four long months fightin* 
 hard wid de Debbil." 
 
 "What, have you seen that gentleman in black?" I 
 asked of my nurse, with a grave face. 
 
 "He any ting but gemman. Missy," answered the 
 African lady with a look of indignation; "and he an't 
 black, but red as a coal ob fire — gist a fireman all ober. 
 Seen him, Missis? I seen him fifty times, and onct I 
 had 'mazin' hard fight wid him! He wos use to gib 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 441 
 
 me mortal trouble when I wos trjin' to git dcliglon, but 
 vvhensomcbber I seen him comin', I sot to prayin' desput, 
 an' he put off wid hesef, for de Debbil can't stan' a 
 prayer, no hoivl He get out ob do way rite off." 
 
 "How did he look, Aunt Winny?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, dear sus ! I couldn't tell ye, Missy Kate, but he 
 was drefful ugly beas', an' hab cloven hoof and sebben 
 horns, and a switchin' tail. But, bress de goodness ! he 
 don't come near me now ! He han't troubled me for good 
 many year since I got deligion. He lo%t one, when he 
 los' me /" 
 
 This last sentence was enunciated with great unction 
 and emphasis ; and accompanied by a look of pious satis- 
 faction. 
 
 "Well, Missy Kate," resumed the old nurse, "I wor 
 four months tryin' hard to git deligion an' I couldn't." 
 
 "And why. Aunt Winny?" I asked gravely. 
 
 "Because you sees, I wosn't born agen. Nobody can 
 git deligion," she added with reverent looks, "till dey is 
 born ob de Sperit ! Don't you 'member, Missis, how ol' 
 Nicodemus was stumped on dat kwestion? But I didn't 
 know bout de Bible den as I does now. Now I can read 
 ebbery word ob it." 
 
 ''''Head the Bible, Aunt Winny?" I exclaimed with 
 surprise, knowing she could not read at all. 
 
 "To be sures I ken. Missis," answered Winny with 
 dignity. "I reads it by de eye ob faith. Bress your 
 <lear heart, Miss Kate, when we is born'd agen, we can 
 read Scriptur' doctrine jis de same wid de eye ob faith 
 as white folk can wid de eye ob do flesh if dey isn't 
 born'd agen. Didn't de 'postles speak languages dey 
 nebber larnt when de Holy Sperit descended 'pon dere 
 
442 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 heads ? Sure dey did, sure. It teach me all de Scrlp- 
 tur' doctrm' since I was born de last time ! Well, 
 Missis, I didn't know nothin' bout Scriptur' doctrin' in 
 dem days, poor ignorum black woman, an' so I prayed 
 and kept on prayin', and it didn't do no good, and jiss 
 coz I wosn't baptized." 
 
 "And how did you find out you ought to be baptized?" 
 I inquired of the good old lady ; and here let me insert 
 that I have taken down this conversation actually as it 
 occurred ; and that I record it, not with any irreverence 
 for such a sacred subject, but to show how religion af- 
 fects the mind of the thoughtful slave. Doubtless 
 thousands of the poor pious negroes can relate experi- 
 ences and spiritual operations almost precisely similar ; 
 hence the deep interest Avhich attaches to a fair recital 
 of one of them, as in the case of Aunt Winny. Nearly 
 all negroes, according to themselves, are converted by 
 some great miracle. This is the test of their being re- 
 ligious with each other. A conversion without a " mar- 
 vel" in it goes for nothing among them. 
 
 "I foun' out in dis way. Missis," answered Aunt 
 Winny. "You see I prayed all de time I could git. I 
 wos in a wild country, and had no 'lations nor kin of no 
 kind dere, and I felt lonely like, and I knew if I could 
 get Jesus Christ to love me, he'd be 'lations, an' friends, 
 and childer, an' ebbery ting to me. So, one day, as I 
 was a-prayin' 'hind a bush, I felt a hand laid rite on de 
 top of my head, dis a-way! (here Aunt Winny suited 
 the action to the word,) and a voice sed, * Sinner, when 
 are you gwine to be baptize?' Dis was nuff! I seed den 
 wot I wanted ! So I went rite off and told the preacher 
 (his name was Petitt, Miss) how as I wanted to be bap- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 443 
 
 tize. Well, de branch was up wid a obcrflow, and he 
 couldn't do it den; an' when de branch got low he was 
 took sick, and so it was three week afore I could get 
 baptize. But oh, I saw Jesus an' de angels in dem free 
 weeks!" she added clasping her hands in a sort of devo- 
 tional ecstasy. 
 
 "How was that, Aunt Winnj?" I asked, laying 
 down the crochet-work I was upon, and looking her 
 with some surprise, full in the face. 
 
 "I was comin' home from a neighbor's whar I'd been 
 on a narran'. All at onct I seed de hebben open — " 
 
 "Over your head?" 
 
 "No, Missis, not 'zactly ober my head, but in de east 
 like — right ober in de cast quarter; an' dere I see Jesus 
 Christ standin' up in hebben, wid he arms stretched out, 
 dis a-way," (here she suited the action to the word,) 
 "and smiling on millions ob thousand ob angels, dat 
 were lookin' so happy, an' smilin', and praisin' God; 
 you nebber see any ting so b'u'ful. Missis! an' I see de 
 line oh marh, straight as a clo'se line, drawn across ober 
 de hebben to separate de bad folk from de good people 
 ob de Lord." 
 
 "Then you saw had folks in heaven, Aunt Winny ?" 
 
 "No, Missis, not in hebben, but kind o' one side like 
 — on de lef han', an' de line keep 'em back ! Oh, no, I 
 seed no had folks dar, dey couldn't come dar at all! dey 
 couldn't get ober dat line ! De Lor' an' de angels wos 
 all clothe in clouds." 
 
 "In clouds. Aunt Winny?" 
 
 "Yes, Missis; in de brightest clouds ebber was! 
 Ebbery one ob dem hab a star shining on he forehead, 
 and a splendimos' cloud, like de rainbow, floatin' 'bout 
 
444 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 der bodies like de robe ob righteousness. Ah, Missis, it 
 wos de handsomest site ebber any body see!" 
 
 " Did you see any black folks in heaven among the 
 angels?" 
 
 "Plenty, Missis," answered Winny, with emphasis. 
 "But dey wasn't black dere^ — not one ob 'em, but white 
 as de angels, an' der faces shine like Moses' face, an' 
 dey hab shinin' clouds 'bout 'em too ! I expec' to be derc 
 one ob dese days, bless God ! Black ? no, no ! No black 
 skin dere — all white as de light!" 
 
 "And have you seen heaven since then. Aunt 
 Winny?" 
 
 " Oh, dear sus ! Whenebber I feels happy, I can see 
 hebben any time. Eye ob faith see any ting ! Don't I 
 know my Saviour? I seen Him too often not to know 
 Him as quick as I knows you. Missy Kate. An' now I 
 tell you 'bout my baptism ! Soon as I was put under 
 water I seed hebben agen, an' hear de angels shoutin' 
 ober head, ^ Glory!' an' soon as I wos lifted out again, de 
 Sperit lit rite on my shoulder, like a little bird, an' 
 whispered in my ear dese words, and I hearn 'em as 
 plain as I hearn you speak jus now ; he say — 
 
 "'De whom I am well pleasen !' " 
 
 "Said what?" I asked, with amazement, and not 
 fully comprehending the first word. 
 
 "'De whom I am well pleasen,' he said to me," an- 
 swered Winny, with marked decision. "Well, I know'd 
 den I was born agen ! I felt happy as I could live ! I 
 went home a-shoutin' 'Glory an' amen!' an' I seemed to 
 hear all de birds in de woods singing ' glory' too ! De 
 next mornin', when I got up afore day, to go into de 
 field, I saw a light fill de cabin, an' when I look, I see 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 445 
 
 it sliinin' out of mj hand. When I look, I see writ in- 
 side ob it on de palm de name dat no one can read but 
 dem as is born agen, an' dej has it writ on dere palms 
 an' on dere hearts." 
 
 *'You must be mistaken, Aunt Winny, about seeing 
 this writing," I said, with manifest incredulity. 
 
 "No, I wosn't, Missis! I seed it plain as eber I seed 
 de writin' you make wid you pen at dat writin' desk, 
 ony dis wos gold writin'. When I shet my hand it was 
 dark in de room; when I open de palm, it was bright as 
 moonliorht." 
 
 " Could you read the writing. Aunt Winny ?" 
 " Yes, sure and plain enough, by de eye ob faith, an' 
 soon as I'd read, it just faded out, and went up my arm 
 an' into my heart, and dere it was 'graven on my heart, 
 and dere it is now, an' Jesus Christ will read it dere at 
 de last day, and know who am his !" 
 "But what was the writing, Winny?" 
 " Dat can't be read nor know'd but by faith. It's 
 writ on my heart— dat's all /want. Missis," answered 
 the old black lady, (for a lady Winny is, as well as a 
 pious good soul,) with a solemn air, and an expression 
 of inward hope and faith. 
 
 Some further questions and answers of no particular 
 moment terminated our conversation, and Aunt Winny, 
 making me a low courtesy for my kindness in listening 
 to her, left to look after Harry. 
 
 This whole "confession" was so extraordinary— it 
 came so unexpectedly, from such a staid, quiet old body 
 as Aunt Winny— it was such a complete and continuous 
 history of religious experience in an uncultivated mind- 
 it gives such an insight into the alleged modm operandi 
 
446 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 of conversion among our African population — it pre- 
 sents, altogether, such a history of mingled truth and 
 error, faith and superstition, that I could not resist pen- 
 ning it down at once for your perusal and reflection. 
 
 It was told, too, in the most serious and earnest man- 
 ner, with such sincerity of look and tone of voice, and 
 such absence of fanaticism or excitement in telling it, 
 that I could not but respect her "faith;" and I have 
 more than once asked myself, "May it not be possible 
 that God has "hid these things from the wise," and 
 ''revealed them unto babes?" 
 
 The whole " experience" furnishes subject for profound 
 and serious meditation. There can be no doubt of Aunt 
 Winny's piety. She is a good Christian woman in all 
 her daily walk and conversation. She would not wil- 
 fully speak an untruth. She is not given to " high- 
 flights ;" but, on the contrary, is usually staid and sober- 
 minded. How do we know that God does not vouchsafe 
 special and peculiar revelations to the ignorant, who 
 cannot read His word? May He not, to the poor Afri- 
 can, who otherwise cannot know Him, reveal what to the 
 wiser is concealed? for the wiser may have access directly 
 to God's word. 
 
 These ideas shape themselves into questions under 
 my pen, and questions they must ever here remain ; for, 
 in this world, they will find no answers. Not knowing 
 all the "secrets of God," we ought not to despise one 
 of these "little ones," who believe in Him, and "whose 
 angels always behold the face of the Father." 
 
 The assertion that negroes are highly imaginative, 
 and that all negroes have similar notions, does not les- 
 sen the impression which such an " experience" as the 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 447 
 
 above makes upon the mind ; but, on the contrary, serves 
 to render it more striking. The universal experience, 
 from their own confession, that they have such revela- 
 tions, would lead irresistibly to the conclusion that they 
 do have them. 
 
 I now hear you, Mr. , putting the question point- 
 direct — 
 
 " Do you, Lady of the Needles, believe Aunt Winny 
 saw all and heard all she says that she did?" 
 
 Now, my answer to this very inquisitive interrogatory 
 from you, whereby you desire to commit me, you will 
 please find in Proverbs, xxix. 11. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
448 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER LX. 
 
 Dear Mr. 
 
 I HAVE been down to the great city since I last 
 wrote you. Leaving my quiet Lake home early in the 
 morning, on IMonclay last, we reached Thibodeaux village 
 in time to take the steamer down the La Fourche, which 
 brought us in sight of the city just at twilight. It was 
 a superb and bewildering spectacle, as we steamed in the 
 gathering darkness past a thousand lights from ships, 
 and streets, and buildings, and the roar of the city came 
 off to my ears across the water, like the sound of the 
 surge of old Ocean. 
 
 For a country lady, like myself, the bustle of the city 
 completely confounded my poor head when, the next day, 
 I walked about shopping, for I had not been beyond the 
 noise of the woodpecker for twenty months. What sur- 
 prised my rustic head was first the new fashions. I saw 
 the ladies not only did not wear their bonnets still on 
 their heads, but on their shoulders, and that the style of 
 walking was to lift the skirts and display an extraordi- 
 nary surface to the eyes of passers-by of intensely white 
 petticoat ! At first, I thought it was accidental in the 
 fair promenader to escape a pond of tobacco saliva on 
 the walk, and I was only assured of its being "the 
 fashion" by a remark from Chloe, my waiting woman, 
 who was walking behind me, dressed in a neat black silk, 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 449 
 
 and a crimson Iiandkercliief tied turban-wise upon her 
 head, the usual head-dress of the colored aristocracy. 
 
 '' Do see. Missus ! Did ebber know de like ?" 
 
 "What is it, Chloe?" 
 
 "All de ladieses holds up de dress mighty high, I tink 
 it fashum. Missy Kate !" 
 
 Its prevalence convinced me that Chloe. was right. In 
 half an hour more, what should I see but old Chloe step- 
 ping along with her skirt in her hand, looking as fashion- 
 able as any of them? Imitation is one of the most 
 remarkable features of the negro race. They originate 
 nothing, imitation is nature in them and irresistible. 
 How absurd are fashions ! How they can destroy deli- 
 cacy, and even modesty ! At the house of M. de S , 
 
 where I passed the evening of the day, I saw two young 
 ladies, who wore their dresses so low in front as to make 
 me blush for them, who, a year ago, would have blushed 
 and felt deeply mortified and ashamed to have been 
 caught by a gentleman in this nude dishabille ; yet now 
 they were smiling, and talking, and seemingly as uncon- 
 scious of immodesty, as if they were not compelling the 
 venerable Roman Catholic Bishop, whom they were talk- 
 ing with, to drop his eyes to the floor.* 
 
 American girls are, I believe, purer and more maidenly 
 delicate than those of any other nation. I pray that 
 
 * [Having seen, perhaps, considerably more of the world 
 than our much esteemed correspondent, "Dear Kate" must 
 excuse us if we differ from her in the assumed and sweep- 
 ing conclusions at which she arrives, and also as to the utility 
 of printing all her conclusions in reference to the doubtless in- 
 nocent votaries of that very changeable, and, to say the least, 
 oftimes most imprudent goddess, Fashion. — EJ. A. C] 
 29 
 
450 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 they may continue to merit this distinction. But so long 
 as they slavishly copy the fashions set by corrupt courts 
 — by ladies in France and England — and outwardly wear 
 the livery of vice, they will forfeit a pre-eminence that 
 they have hitherto enjoyed. These fashions are usually 
 started by women who have no character ; indeed, the 
 style of the fasJiion shows how impure the mind was that 
 originated it. If gentlemen see ladies following such 
 fashions, they have a right to suppose that they are no 
 better in heart than in dress ; and have characters of the 
 same value with the inventors of these immodest and un- 
 lady-like fashions. Upon my word, I have no patience 
 with my fair countrywomen, when they let milliners and 
 mantua-makers lead them by the chin at their pleasure. 
 If the Amazonian custom of dropping the dress from the 
 left shoulder entirely to the waist w^ere introduced, I fear 
 that there would be found foolish girls enough to adopt 
 it, throwing delicacy overboard, for the sake of fashion, 
 as they now do in their immodestly low dresses. 
 
 And then the way the bonnets have been, and are still 
 worn ! hanging almost down the back ! What should we 
 think of a gentleman wearing his hat in such a style ? 
 But the girls say : " There are no other sorts of bonnets 
 made, or to be had at the milliners' !" 
 
 Without doubt they speak the truth. But what right 
 have milliners to compel the wearing of such bonnets 
 that worit stay on the head? American ladies put 
 themselves too submissively into the hands of these Mes- 
 dames de la Mode ! The only way to destroy their 
 bondage, and have liberty and independence, is for the 
 real haut ton ladies to form a " Club of Fashions," — an 
 Academic des Modes — choose a President and twenty-four 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 451 
 
 directors, and appoint committees on the fashions as they 
 come out, and alter, and add, or take away, as their taste 
 dictates, before it receives their seal and signature ! 
 They also should have the privilege of originating fa- 
 shions. As we are politically independent of Europe, 
 let us be so in fashions. Let this "Club of Fashions" be 
 established in the principal cities, with intei'-communica- 
 tion continually kept up by interchanging " reports ;" 
 let it meet four times a year to decide upon the fashions 
 for each season, both of hats and of dresses, for Winter, 
 Spring, Summer, and Autumn. Let them issue a Ga- 
 zette of fashions, to be published quarterly ; and let the 
 American ladies yield graceful submission to this Ameri- 
 can Congress of Modes, and so emancipate themselves 
 from the corrupt fashions which great ladies, of doubtful 
 position, in Europe, and milliners of uncultivated taste, 
 force upon the good sense and pure taste of American 
 women. Such a club would give a tone to fashion that 
 it is sadly in want of; and if fashions must rule, let them 
 rule with authority, dignity, and grace, in the hands of 
 our lovely, and modest, and tasteful American dames. 
 
 I wish you, my dear Mr. , to advocate this mea- 
 sure with all your talent and skill. I fear you will think 
 this Needle is rather more keenly pointed than usual ; 
 but go into a ball-room and see if it is not merited — that 
 is, if you are not too modest to see. 
 
 There is something very amusing in the universality 
 which an absurd fashion speedily attains. On the first 
 day of May, 1854, ladies appeared on Broadway with 
 their bonnets resting on their necks. Three weeks 
 afterwards girls rejoiced in hanging bonnets by their 
 combs in Portland, Maine, and in New Orleans, and in 
 
152 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 St. Louis; and in two months more the girls of San 
 Francisco bared the tops of their heads to the sun and 
 rain ; and by this time this ridiculous fashion is in vogue 
 at the Sandwich Islands ! Twenty years ago there were, 
 in New Orleans, (so an elderly gentlem.an tells me,) more 
 veils seen in the streets than bonnets ; and even now one 
 sees this graceful ornament of the head without the 
 bonnet. Why not drop the bonnet altogether, since it 
 it is of so little use, and wear the veil a la Espanola ? 
 Ladies would lose nothing and gain every thing in grace 
 and elegance. 
 
 Our object in going to the city was to lay in stores 
 and clothing for the plantation, and for my husband to 
 dispose of his sugar, and also to purchase a few luxuries, 
 among which was a rocking horse for Harry, and other 
 playthings. We did not forget all the late publications, 
 some of which I will give you my unasked opinion of, 
 when I have read them. 
 
 We are preparing for our pic-nic to the Gulf, to be gone 
 ten days. The party will consist of eleven of us, not 
 including servants. We start the day after to-morrow. 
 The young gentlemen who are to join us are busy in 
 preparing their guns and fishing apparatus. Champagne, 
 and fruits, and delicacies of all sorts, have been ordered 
 for the occasion; and we anticipate a merry and ad- 
 venturous time. In my next, I will give you an account 
 of our expedition in full. It will be a sort of campaign ; 
 as we go provided with tents and every convenience for 
 campaigning out upon the island which we intend to 
 visit. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT nOME. 453 
 
 LETTER LXI. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 I have opened mj writing-desk and taken a nice 
 new pen to give a full description of our excursion to the 
 Gulf. As Harry is in bed fast asleep, and "dreaming 
 about the angels," as Aunt Winnj says all babies do, I 
 shall be able to write you an hour without interruption. 
 
 It was a busy time with us all, for a day or two before 
 we were ready to start. The gentlemen had to get their 
 fishing lines, dip nets, guns, and rough-weather coats, 
 and hats ready, and we ladies to fit ourselves with plain 
 substantial dresses, chip hats, stout shoes, and all things 
 needful for a campaign so formidable ; but the gentlemen 
 were most concerned that we should have plenty of good 
 things to eat, of which department I was unanimously 
 appointed commissary. 
 
 Early on Monday morning, two weeks ago, we were 
 roused at day-dawn by the pre-concerted signal — a gun 
 fired off by Scipio Africanus, my husband's chief boatman. 
 We were soon alert, and the whole house was activity and 
 bustle. 
 
 "Kate, don't forget the marmalade; and are you sure 
 you put up the guava jelly ? and did Dick pack the basket 
 of wines?" 
 
 These inquiries were made by my lord and husband, 
 
151 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 who, as you may judge, is something of an epicure, in 
 his way. 
 
 "Aunt Winny — don't forget the baby!" I screamed, 
 seeing her leaving the house without Harry. 
 
 "Lor, bless us. Missus, Mass' Harry done gone down 
 to de boat on de Doctor back!" 
 
 "All well aboard," cried my husband as he handed 
 me in last; for I had delayed to give my orders to old 
 Chloe, my housekeeper and factotum, and to tell her that 
 if any of our friends came while we were absent, to en- 
 tertain them with the best the house held, and try and 
 keep them till we returned; and in order that she might 
 carry out this hospitality, I left her in possession of all 
 my keys. 
 
 It was fairly sunrise when we were safely on board the 
 yacht and away from the shore. And a lovely morning 
 it was. The eastern sky looked like a broad lake of gold 
 and green, stretching away into heaven and decked with 
 purple islets of clouds. Not a breath moved the serene 
 air or disturbed the placid surface of the water, over 
 which we glided to the music of the rippling keel and 
 dripping oars of two of our slaves, whose red Saracenic 
 turbans, blue shirts, and white full trowsers, gave them, 
 with their dark faces, a picturesque appearance. And 
 for that matter, we were all picturesque-looking enough, 
 to please the fancy of any romantic school-girl. Our 
 barge itself was a long, graceful, xebec-modeled craft of 
 three tons burthen, a tall tapering mast of the light 
 brown tint of amber, terminating, twenty feet from the 
 deck, in a white top-mast, crowned with a gilt arrow. 
 To a very long pliant yard slung across it, was suspended 
 a broad latteen sail, the shape of a swallow's wing. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 455 
 
 Never was a more bird-like looking boat, and when it 
 •was racing before a wave-capping wind across the lake, 
 it looked like a swift albatross winging his way to his 
 covert, amid the dark shades of the forest beyond the 
 mere. 
 
 In the after part of the boat is a deck that covers an 
 Apartment which sailors call a cabin, or cuddy, large 
 enough to hold six persons; if they are very fleshy they 
 will be somewhat pinched for space, and if very tall, 
 they will have to stoop as they sit down. On each side 
 are two berths, and a table in the centre. The whole 
 place is beautifully finished off with rosewood and gilding, 
 rich blue drapery conceals the sleeping places, and a 
 Turkish carpet and lounges add to its comfort. It is a 
 lady's boudoir afloat. Last, not least, it contains a little 
 cupboard, which holds a complete dining set for six, and 
 tea sets to match. The forward part of the xebec has a 
 covered forecastle for the steersman, two oarsmen, and 
 steward. The length of the whole vessel is thirty-two 
 feet. In the space between the forecastle and cabin, are 
 seats cushioned, where we sit by day, as we sail along ; 
 and if the sun is hot, an awning is drawn over our heads, 
 "but not so low as to prevent us from seeing the scenery 
 on both sides of the boat. 
 
 As for our party, it consisted of my husband ; two fair 
 Louisiana belles, his cousins, of whom I have before 
 spoken, who are on a visit to us from their father's sugar 
 estate, near New Orleans; and young Dr. Louis de 
 
 r , who has just returned from Europe, and lives on 
 
 the next plantation to ours, and who is very much in 
 love with Mathilde, the eldest cousin, a splendid dark- 
 eyed queen of a girl, who loves him back ?gain with all 
 
456 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 her warm and generous heart, and what can a lover ask 
 
 more, Mr. ? I make the fifth member of our 
 
 party, and lastly, and the most important personage of 
 all, is Master Harry, my baby. Then there is good 
 old Aunt Winny, whose ''experience" I sent you, for I 
 cannot stir without her, as she is Harry's ambulance, 
 and there is Petit Pierre, a slight, golden-skinned, girl- 
 ish looking lad, who is my page in general, and also 
 waits on table, draws corks for the gentlemen, baits our 
 hooks, and amuses Harry; a miscellaneous useful little 
 fellow, with a smile full of sweetness, and eyes superbly 
 large and expressive, like the eyes of a gazelle. His 
 proper appellation is Pierre, but he is so slight and under 
 sized, that every one calls him "Petit" also, to which 
 name he usually answers. 
 
 Now let me sketch you our party, as we move along in 
 the morning sunshine across the blue lake, towards the 
 narrow, tree-shadowed outlet of the bayou, into which 
 we are soon to enter. 
 
 At the helm stands the steersman. Uncle Ned, a tall, 
 grave, pious black man, whose true name is Sambo. 
 His visage is jet black, honest and sensible in its expres- 
 sion, and withal humble and deferential. He would lay 
 down his life for his master, who I believe would as readily 
 lay down his life for him. When my husband was a child, 
 Sambo, then a half-broke plantation urchin, carried him 
 in his arms, and became his out-door nurse. They grew 
 up together, and when the child became a man, and the 
 boy-nurse a servant in his family, the attachment, which 
 they naturally manifested, was beautiful. At present 
 Uncle Ned has the responsibility of the whole party, and 
 his grave face shows that he feels it. His whole heart 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 457 
 
 is upon Ills duty. His head is surmounted hy a broad- 
 brimmed -white hat, with a streamer of black crape far 
 pendant behind; for Uncle Ned has recently lost his help- 
 meet, Dinah, and shows the depth of his grief by the 
 length of his mourning weed; for your true African re- 
 joices in a craped beaver; and I verily believe the grief 
 at the loss of their kindred is compensated, in a measure, 
 by the idea of "the black craped hat." Uncle Ned has 
 gray, military cut w^hiskers, and a white cravat closely 
 tied about his neck. 
 
 Genteel negroes like Uncle Ned affect "white ties." 
 He wore a black coat and white vest, and snuff-brown 
 linsey-wolsey trowsers, and looked the character he was 
 on the plantation of a Sunday, "a colored clergyman." 
 Yet he was a good coachman, a better boatm.an, as well 
 as a true gentleman, at heart and in sentiment. Old 
 Ned's onl}^ dissipation was his pipe. This he never was 
 without, out of doors, if " de ladies would let him smoke 
 de pipe in dere presence." 
 
 The two girls, Mathilde and Marie, were dressed in 
 closely-fitting spencers, which set off their superb figures 
 splendidly, and made the elder, who is just nineteen, 
 look like a Southern Di Vernon; and her dark tresses, 
 stealing out beneath her wide straw hat, laughed in the 
 winds. Marie was a fair blonde, with an eye of blue, 
 like rich turquoise set in pearl, or to use a soft and ten- 
 der simile, "like a violet cupped in a hly." The elder 
 was Juno, the younger Euphrosyne. One captured 
 hearts by the lightning of her glorious sunrise-looking 
 eyes: the latter won them with gentle influences, as the 
 moon attracts towards itself the beauteous lake, that re- 
 flects its image. The two lovely sisters, in their flapping 
 
458 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Panama hats, and gray pic-nic habits, and jaunty, half- 
 gipsy air, looked romantic enough for Mr. Alexander 
 Smith; who is the moon's own bard, and who, had there 
 been no moon, no poet had been. 
 
 The handsome Louis, who stands amidships, pointing 
 out to Marie a flight of birds, is dressed like a buccaneer, 
 and I believe intended to be Mr. Lafitte for the present 
 expedition only, inasmuch as we were bound to the neigh- 
 borhood of this celebrated sea-king's island of Bara- 
 taria; nay, we expected to pay it a visit in our absence. 
 Louis has a fine face, but its beauty all comes from his 
 heart, which is one of the noblest, and kindest, and man- 
 liest that ever beat. His features are not regularly 
 formed, and his forehead is too low, but when one knows 
 him w^ell, and knows what a pure soul he possesses, what 
 superior intellect, and commanding talent, one loves and 
 honors him without any reservations. 
 
 Then, there stands my husband ! Of course he is not 
 to be paralleled or compared. He may be ugly ; but if 
 he is, I don't know it, for my love throws a golden veil 
 over every defect, and illumines every feature with the 
 light of beauty, not beauty such as woman has, but the 
 beauty of a man — who stands out commandingly the 
 image of his Maker. 
 
 I say that my husband, Mr. , may be ugly, but 
 
 to me he is perfect. His hazel eyes beam on me only 
 with love and pride, and husbandly tenderness ; his 
 mouth speaks to me only the kindest and most pleasur- 
 able things, his voice, when he turns to address me, 
 changes its tone from that he gives to others, and falls 
 upon my ear like some mysterious music, that thrills 
 and moves the heart, the dear listener knows not how or 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 459 
 
 "why. The voice may be harsh, the mouth unhandsome, 
 the lips without regularity, the eyes without beauty, but 
 to me they challenge comparison with the eyes, lips, and 
 voice of Apollo, or any admirable Crichton of them all. 
 
 There ! my heart's confession is made, Mr. ! 
 
 You see I am not ashamed of my good husband, and I 
 don't intend to be; on the contrary, I mean all my 
 readers shall think of (I was going to say love) him as 
 well as I do. As to loving him (I mean the fair girls 
 who read this), I would simply hint that I have a mono- 
 poly in him, and don't intend any body shall love him, 
 or look at him even sidewise, but me. Even the superb 
 Mathilde, cousin as she is, sometimes makes me feel like 
 pulling her ears, when I have seen her look as if she 
 loved him more than a cousin ought to love a cousin ! 
 Harry I will not describe — he couldn't he described ! 
 Imagine a perfect Cupid, (I mean, of course, sir, with a 
 pretty plaid frock on, tiny gaiter boots on his charming 
 feet, a Scotch cap and feather set aside on his curly 
 head, black eyes full of fun, rosy cheeks, chubby arms, 
 chubby hands, chubby bare legs, and lips like the rosy 
 lining of twin sea-shells,) and you have "" Mass' Harry," 
 and with him the whole " ship's company." 
 
 We moved delightfully along the shores of the tree- 
 fringed lake for a half mile, when visible right ahead, 
 was the opening of the bayou, for which we were steer- 
 ing. We soon entered, all at once, losing sight of the 
 sun-bright lake of my villa-home. The bayou was about 
 as wide as Chestnut street, with just room for meeting 
 boats to pass. For the first mile we moved on beneath 
 mammoth trunks of old live-oak trees, that threw their 
 gnarled arms far across from side to side. Wild vines. 
 
460 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR, 
 
 gaj witli strange and beautiful flowers, grew close to the 
 water, and winding their serpent-like folds about the 
 trees, climbed up and along the branches, and formed a 
 thousand festoons from bank to bank, beneath which we 
 glided, and using them to propel us onward, instead of 
 the oars, we darted swiftly beneath, leaving far astern a 
 wake of gurgling waves, agitated by our keel. A deer, 
 startled bj our shouts of laughter, (for people in the 
 woods somehow are always more noisy than when at 
 home,) plunged into the stream, and after a dozen of 
 vigorous strokes with his hoofs, dashing the water high 
 above his antlers as he swam, landed on the wild-wood 
 side of the bayou. Louis raised his rifle with a true 
 hunter's instinct. Mathilde, with a " No, Louis, don't ! 
 Let the poor fellow live and enjoy the freedom of his 
 forest home, gently laid her hand upon the gun and dis- 
 armed liim. 
 
 "It is your deer. Mademoiselle Mathilde," he said, 
 gallantly," "and when I return I will ensnare him and 
 present him to you alive." 
 
 At this moment, we emerged from the entangled forest, 
 and on each side extended the level sugar fields a mile 
 broad, waving like the "green and laughing corn," or 
 rather looking like an undulating emeraldine sea. In 
 the distance ahead, rose the lofty towers of the sugar- 
 house, or " sucrdrie," and amid a grove of tropical shade 
 trees, half a mile to the right, were visible the roof and 
 cupola of the mansion, where we were to receive an ac- 
 cession of two more boats to our party. 
 
 In an hour after leaving the lake, we reached this 
 luxurious abode of refinement and wealth, were welcomed 
 by a happy group upon the green bank, and escorted 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 461 
 
 with great triumph and rejoicing to the house where 
 breakfast was waiting for us ; for it was in carte of the 
 daj that we were to dejeuner here. By nine o'clock avo 
 were once more on board, and with the addition of two 
 more ladies and three gentlemen, we voyaged a-down the 
 bayou, a merry fleet, steering the whole forenoon amid 
 sugar fields that kissed the wave, or past villas where we 
 were cheered by groups of friends, who followed us as 
 far as they could be heard, with " Bon voyage, bon voy- 
 age, au rcvoir !" while little Harry, held high in air, by 
 proud Aunt Winny, would prettily smack his fat hands 
 and toss an imaginary kiss, (an accomplishment which 
 his father had taught the little rogue,) back to the joy- 
 ous throng. The remainder of my narrative, I will de- 
 fer, Mr. , for another letter. Until then, adieu. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Kate. 
 
462 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER LXII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 You know when one sits down, pen in hand, and with 
 kindly feelings, to write about what one has seen, and 
 wishes one's readers to see with the same eyes, that the 
 subject grows, enlarges, expands under the ready pen, 
 until what was meant for a letter only, becomes a book. 
 So, under my pen, enlarges my narrative of our excur- 
 sion, which I expected to stitch up for you with one nee- 
 dle full of thread, but which I see will take two, and 
 perhaps three of them. A lady with a talkative pen is 
 quite as much a horror, I confess, as one with a talkative 
 tongue. 
 
 My last Needle left our little fleet of pleasure-barges 
 winding our pleasant way down the bayou Terre Bonne, 
 southwardly, towards the pretty village of Thibodeaux, 
 which please turn to your map and find in the bosom of 
 the delightful sugar region of Louisiana. It was a bright 
 autumnal day, and we all gave full rein to our wild 
 spirits, awaking the echoes of the groves, past which we 
 sailed, and causing the groups of slaves in the fields to 
 pause, leaning on their long-handled hoes, and gaze upon 
 us with shining eyes and glittering teeth ; while Uncle 
 Ned at the helm drew himself up in the presence of these 
 ''colored folk," with all the dignity which his responsi- 
 bility as helmsman of our yacht entitled him to assume 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. ^ 463 
 
 before barbarian ^' field niggers," as the aristocratic 
 house-servant terms the cultivators of the soil. 
 
 At noon, we reached the estate of a friend ; where we 
 landed and dined beneath the trees on the bank ; the 
 hospitable family, seeing we would not go in, added all 
 sorts of luxuries, which half-a-dozen slaves brought out 
 to us upon Avaiters. It was sunset when we reached the 
 outlet of the bayou at the village of Thibodeaux ; but as 
 the moon rose full and glorious before darkness could 
 begin to draw its starry veil over the sky, we resolved 
 to continue on our way and bivouac for the night at the 
 
 plantation of M. M , a relative of my husband's, who 
 
 had been notified of our coming down upon him "in 
 force." So we left the narrow bayou, passing beneath 
 the old French bridge that crossed it at its mouth, near 
 the end of the village street, and pulled out into the 
 broader and deeper current of the Bayou Lafourche, on 
 which the village stands. There was a soft haze settled 
 over the town, above which the spires caught the moon- 
 beams like minarets of silver. 
 
 When our whole fleet had got out into the broader 
 waters of Lafourche, there was a council of war held by 
 the gentlemen of the several boats, and it resulted in my 
 husband being chosen Admiral of the Fleet; and our 
 boat was therefore made the flag-ship, out of compliment 
 to me, a grace at their hands, which I here publicly ac- 
 knowledge. We, therefore took the lead, and the other 
 four boats followed joyously astern ; for besides the two 
 yachts which joined us en voyage, we had two " trans- 
 ports," boats containing our tents, nets, fishing-poles, 
 guns, provisions, and dogs, and every possible extra, 
 that a campaign of ten days might require. 
 
464 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 As tlic town, with its sparkling winlow-liglxts, and 
 with here and there the distant music of a skillfully 
 thrummed guitar, receded, we drew near the Catholic 
 church, about half-a-mile below the village. Its bell was 
 heavily tolling across the water, and we saw a procession 
 coming forth with torchlights ; and winding its way be- 
 neath the trees towards the cemetery. The solemn 
 chanting of the service of the dead reached our ears when 
 we had gone far down the bayou, and, what with the 
 hour and associations, it all deeply impressed us. \Ye 
 learned, on our return, that it was the funeral of a young 
 nun who had died the week previous, at the Convent du 
 Sacre Coeur, and her body having arrived late at her 
 former home, had been the same night conveyed beneath 
 the pure moonbeams to its last resting place by the 
 church in which she had, as an infant, received holy bap- 
 tism. 
 
 There is something, to my imagination, extremely at- 
 tractive in the aesthetics of the Roman Catholic religion ; 
 but not to my reason nor to my heart. I could never 
 bend my knee to the "Virgin Mother," nor use words 
 of prayer to the "holy saints" asking their intercession, 
 while there stands in my Protestant Bible these words : 
 " There is one intercessor between God and man — the 
 man Christ Jesus." Theirs is a romantic, imaginative. 
 and touchingly superstitious faith, and is only received 
 fully by an imaginative people. 
 
 Americans can never be Romanized. They are too 
 practical — too wmmaginative, too little disposed to de- 
 votion at all, to commit themselves voluntarily to a faith 
 that is ever genuflecting, ever going through the ex- 
 ternals of worship. A people who find it hard to ac- 
 
THE SOUTTIERNER AT ITOMK. 465 
 
 knowledge and pray to one God will liardly pray to a 
 thousand. 
 
 So the Pope and his council have decreed that the 
 mother of Jesus was a Divine Person, and therefore deny 
 that she is a woman! What a monstrous doctrine! and 
 it is decreed, too, by the papal "bull," that it is heresy 
 to deny it. Do you not remember a place in the First 
 Epistle of John, chapter fourth, second and third verses ; 
 also the Second Epistle of John, seventh verse, which 
 says, "For many deceivers are entered into the world, 
 who confess not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. 
 This is a deceiver and Antichrist?" Now, if Jesus' 
 mother was a divine and sinless being, she was not a 
 "woman." But the prophecy was that Christ should be 
 the seed of the woman — born of a woman. If Mary was 
 not a woman, (but a sort of divine goddess as the Papal 
 decree makes her,) then Jesus was not born of woman; 
 and hence he is not the Christ; as he was not that ''man 
 Christ Jesus" foretold; for he could only be man by 
 being born of a woman. The establishing, therefore, the 
 divinity of Mary, destroys the manhood of Jesus, and 
 ignores his having "come in the flesh." But this is a 
 question for theologians, yet it is one that every Chris- 
 tian may freely discuss. 
 
 Our voyage down the bayou under the splendor of the 
 gorgeous southern moon was delightful. Every half 
 mile we glided past a villa either on one hand or 
 the other. At one place we were serenaded, in passing, 
 by a party in a garden, who sang superbly and with fine 
 effect : — 
 
 ** The bonny boat with yielding sway 
 Rocks lightly on the tide," &c. 
 30 
 
466 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 The gentlemen and ladies of our party responded by 
 singing in full chorus the Canadian boat song : — 
 
 " Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, 
 The rapids are near, the daylight's past/' 
 
 About nine o'clock we came in sight of the plantation 
 
 of M. M J my husband's relative. We saw lights 
 
 moving upon the landing-place, for we had signalled our 
 near approach by a gun fired by Louis de F . 
 
 Here we were welcomed with great enthusiasm, and 
 when Monsieur M. saw our large force and formidable 
 armament (for we had not less than seventeen guns of 
 all sorts and sizes), he playfully made grave objections to 
 our landing, asseverating that we had, no doubt, come 
 to invade and, peradventure, conquer his domain ; but 
 being assured that we were bound only against piscato- 
 rial foes, he suffered us to debark, at the same time hint- 
 ing that we were evidently on a secret Cuban expedition ; 
 and your admiral (my husband) will be emperor, and 
 "your fair lady Kate," he added, as he assisted me to 
 the pier, "will be empress. I much fear I shall be 
 called to account by my governor for aiding and abetting 
 a foreign invasion if I harbor you to-night." 
 
 We passed the night at this princely home of one of 
 the best hearted southern gentlemen it was ever my lot 
 to meet ; and resisting his pressing appeals to us to re- 
 main another day and night, we took our departure, 
 taking Monsieur M. with us; "for," he said, "if he 
 could not detain such good company, the good company 
 should retain him." 
 
 We arrived, at nine o'clock at the estate of a New 
 Orleans gentleman, who was a non-resident. In his 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 467 
 
 beautiful garden, which the waters of La Fourche lave, 
 we spread our morning meal, and never a pic-nic gather- 
 ing had so mirthful a repast. After breakfast we re- 
 embarked, and, under the cheering command to the 
 rowers, ''Give way heartily, boys!" we moved rapidly 
 down the bayou, the wide savannahs of the level sugar 
 fields stretching away on either hand to the horizon ; the 
 uniformity of the immense surface of waving cane, re- 
 lieved here and there by clumps, or by single live oaks, 
 by groves concealing residences, and by the tall " Be- 
 gasse chimneys," of the sugar houses,, which made these 
 huge brick buildings look like convents. 
 
 About eleven o'clock a pleasant wind arose. I could 
 see its effects, as I stood upon the deck of the yacht, a 
 mile before we felt it, in the sea-like motion which it 
 communicated to the tall tops of the sugar cane, which 
 heaved and swelled beneath its invisible power like a 
 green, billowy sea. 
 
 To a northern eye, the best idea of a field of sugar- 
 cane here, will be conveyed by imagining a perfectly 
 level country, leagues in extent, without a fence, covered 
 with corn, just as it is ready "to tassel," and if he 
 imagines through this vast domain of level savan- 
 nah a river, half the breadth of the Schuylkill, flowing 
 almost level with the land, with here and there a group 
 of trees dispersed over the green extent, and every mile 
 or two a villa and a tall, tower-like chimney and sugar- 
 house rising near it, a good idea of the country, through 
 which the "La Fourche" winds will be obtained. 
 
 When the breeze came to us we hoisted sail, and our 
 black oarsmen rested. Under the wing-like canvas our 
 little fleet flew cheerily onward; and as we drew nearer 
 
468 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 the Gulf the country became less pictures-q^ue, the sugar 
 fields less numerous, and the abodes of planters farther 
 and farther apart. At length we came, about two in the 
 afternoon, to the last tree that stands on the coast be- 
 tween it and the Gulf, twelve miles distant. This tree 
 was a venerable live oak, and seemed to have stood there, 
 the monarch of the savannah, for centuries. Its huge 
 arms were broad enough to shelter five hundred men. 
 Its situation was " sublimely lonely and solitarily grand," 
 as one of the young gentlemen of our party, who writes 
 poetry, said. 
 
 As we came near the oak, we startled two deer from 
 beneath it, which, after surveying us for an instant, took 
 to flight, and were lost to the eye in a moment in the 
 high gulf grass that grcAV close up to the tree, which 
 stood on a little island of its own, for around it was the 
 saline marsh that now took the place of the cultivated 
 sugar fields, which we had left behind. 
 
 It was decided by the "Admiral" that we should moor 
 our fleet beneath the tree and here dine. 
 
 You should have seen the bustle of preparation, Mr. 
 
 . Our party consisted, all together, of descendants 
 
 of Japhet, fourteen, and of descendants of Ham, nine, in 
 all twenty-three persons; for to such a size had we in- 
 creased by volunteers from the estates we took in our 
 way. We were all friends, and knew one another well, 
 so that, I verily believe, everybody called everybody 
 (married or not) by their first name. Dignified married 
 lady as I am, they every soul called me "Kate," as if I 
 had been everybody's sister, or at least "cousin." 
 
 While we were dining at tables beneath the tree, with 
 servants in waiting, and every thing as nice and recherchd 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 469 
 
 as if we were in a dining-room, Petit Pierre, who was 
 drawing a cork from a bottle of Chateau Margaux, sud- 
 denly uttered a formidable screech, dropped the bottle, 
 and fled yelling for the tree ! We ladies, of course, were 
 all alarmed, and the brave gentlemen sprung to their 
 feet ; when Uncle Ned, from the boat, called out, 
 
 ^'Big alligator, master!" 
 
 True enough, not fifty feet distant, a monstrous alli- 
 gator was seen swimming across the bayou, just above 
 us, to our side of it. Guns were in requisition ! Dogs 
 were alert — and for a minute or more all was intense 
 excitement. Bang, bang, crack, bung, ping! went off 
 all sorts of fire-arms ; but the king of the marshes did not 
 wait to contend matters, for he no sooner discovered into 
 what a snare he had inadvertently put his royalty, than 
 he made a queer noise like an elephant when teased, 
 and dived down out of sight. Close watch, with guns at 
 aim, was kept for his reappearance, but we saw him no 
 more. Petit returned from the tree to terra firma and 
 finished drawing the cork, and we resumed our meal, 
 which was interpolated by alligator stories, told by the 
 gentlemen. 
 
 After we had well dined, about four o'clock, we re-em- 
 barked. The wind was fair and free, and our five boats, all 
 under snowy canvas, went careering onward towards the 
 Gulf. 
 
 In about half-an-hour one of the young gentlemen in 
 another yacht, who had climbed the mast, called out, 
 
 ^' Gulf, ho!" 
 
 At this sound we were all upon our feet, for some of us 
 had been taking siestas in our berths ; but on going out 
 all I could see was the tall sea-grass spreading for miles 
 
470 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 around as; and even the old oak being no longer visible ; 
 nothing but an ocean of brownish green grass eight 
 feet high, that tossed in the wind like a wave-moving 
 sea. But in a little while a bend in the bayou opened 
 the Gulf full before us, and with clapping hands and ex- 
 clamations of delight at its broad blue expanse and green 
 islands, we hailed the welcome sight. 
 
 But another letter must take up my narrative. Till 
 
 then, farewell. 
 
 Truly your friend, 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 471 
 
 LETTER LXIII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 The kind compliments which the newspapers and some 
 of your correspondents have paid my poor ''Needles," 
 not onlv encourage me and inspire me to try and deserve 
 their commendations, but make me grateful. Nothing 
 makes me so happy as to make happiness for others ; and 
 if the perusal of one of my letters has beguiled a half 
 hour of any one, I am well repaid. The greatest reward 
 of a writer is the happiness to which his pen has con- 
 tributed. 
 
 To be sure, he must be paid in money to buy ink, and 
 pens, and paper, but those are to enable him to write ; 
 and money, also, is a very nice thing when one wants a 
 new pair of shoes, or a shawl in cold weather, or bread 
 and butter, and tea. True, authors are not so much 
 paid for what they write, as that they receive means to 
 enable them to write ! The writing is given, but the 
 bodily strength, the ink and paper, the table to write on, 
 the floor on which the table stands, the roof over head, 
 the window or lamp for light, the fire to keep him warm, 
 his breakfasts, dinners, suppers, — the editor and pub- 
 lisher gives him money only to pay for these ; supplies 
 the fuel '' to keep up the steam," to use a plain American 
 phrase. 
 
 But I will not stray away from the proper subject of 
 
472 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 this letter, which is a continuation of the journal of our 
 romantic expedition to the Gulf and its green islands. 
 
 My last closed just as our fleet of pleasure yachts 
 came in sight of the hroad horizon of the Mexican Gulf, 
 on the afternoon of the second day after leaving Lake 
 Illiwalla in the interior, our course by the bayous having 
 been nearly one hundred miles altogether. 
 
 The sight of the gulf was hailed by us with shouts. 
 We had to go yet six miles before debouching into it 
 from the bayou, which glided like a tortuously moving 
 and shining serpent between the borders of tall reddish 
 grass. This grass was the size of a quill and seven feet 
 tall, and grew not of visible soil, but out of mud under 
 the water. 
 
 As far as the eye could extend there was one vast 
 plain of grass, level as the sea; but there was not any- 
 where visible a foot of land, not a place where Noah's 
 dove could rest its poor little weary feet. 
 
 The sable oarsmen now pulled cheerily to their oars, 
 as we intended to gain an island a league off the coast, 
 which was visible like a pale green streak of cloud, 
 asleep on the horizon. Near this island, as we ap- 
 proached the mouth of the bayou, we discovered at 
 anchor a small sloop, which the gentlemen said was 
 waiting for a wind to run up the bayou we were in, to 
 load with sugar from the plantations, and take it down 
 and round to New Orleans, for many of the planters 
 send their staple to market in this way rather than up 
 the bayou, past Thibodeaux, and so across into the Mis- 
 sissippi and to New Orleans. This present mode had 
 the advantage both of economy and security. 
 
 When within a mile of the mouth, a breeze caught our 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 473 
 
 little flags, and we hoisted sail and gave our rowers rest, 
 though they showed no fatigue. Indeed, the endurance 
 of the African slaves is marvelous. They will row hour 
 after hour, and at the last are as brisk and lively, and 
 sing their songs as cheerily as in the outset. There 
 seems no tire to a negro ; no end to his good humor 
 when he is on a party of this kind, for they enjoy it 
 quite as much as '' massa and missus." Such delightful, 
 willing, apprehending, anticipating-your-want servants, 
 never were as this race of bondsmen. They seem in 
 servitude to be where they wish to be, for they are by 
 nature dependent, and they love to look up to some one 
 who "takes the responsibility;" and for this responsi- 
 bility they are ready to give in return their labor and 
 life-service. Certainly /rge negroes are the worst possi- 
 ble servants, and for want of healthy authority, and some 
 stronger head to think and do for them, they become 
 very degraded. I have just seen a book called " A 
 South side View of slavery," by Eev. Dr. Adams, of 
 Boston, which every man and woman north ought to 
 read. It is the only reply that has been made to " Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin," lately published without intending to be 
 a reply to it. If our northern friends would read this 
 book, they would leave slavery to the south and to the 
 Providence of God for the final adjustment, of all vexed 
 questions it has given rise to. The south feels the re- 
 sponsibility as profoundly as the north. The Christians, 
 and wise, and thinking men in the south have this sub- 
 ject at heart, and will be the instruments (not the north- 
 ern abolitionists) chosen of God for the amelioration and 
 final emancipation of the race, if God ordain that they 
 shall ever be free. But every step made by the north to 
 
474 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR, 
 
 coerce, is naturally met by southerners (who are quite as 
 humane as gentlemen, and gentle as ladies, as the north- 
 erners,) with barriers and defences, and more formidable 
 entrenchments thrown up about their institutions. These, 
 
 Mr. , are the views of a northern woman, who has 
 
 dwelt long enough in the south to see things as they are. 
 Abide God's time ! Wait for the Moses of the Lord God 
 of Hosts ! All the efforts of supposable philanthropists 
 in Egypt could not have hastened one day sooner the 
 deliverance from bondage of Israel ; nay, the first move- 
 ment towards it of Moses himself, only caused Pharaoh 
 to- heap additional burdens upon them. Such has been 
 the result of the mere human movement of the northern 
 fanatics ; they have taken away the straw from the la- 
 borers, and made firmer their bonds. In God's time His 
 Moses will be found borne upon the waters of time, and 
 God, and not man, if the slave is to be free, will lead 
 Africa, as once he did Israel, out of the House of 
 Bondage. 
 
 How shall I describe the beautiful spectacle our little 
 fleet presented, with sails all a-spread, as we darted like 
 a flock of gulls out from the houclie of the narrow bayou 
 into the open expanse of the gulf! The sun was about 
 half an hour high, and covering the waves with gold and 
 orange, while the heavens in the west, where he was go- 
 ing down, were gorgeous with green, purple, and crimson, 
 beyond painter's pencil or poet's pen. No wonder the 
 Indian, in his fresh imagination, believed the western 
 heavens to be the gate to his celestial hunting grounds ! 
 A little child once gazing on such a sky of glory, said 
 to me : — 
 
 "Aunt Kate, heaven is so full of light and pretty 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 475 
 
 colors, that when God opens its gate at sun down to let 
 the sun go in, they burst out, don't they?" 
 
 Is not that pretty, Mr. ? Children's sayings are 
 
 so fresh and original, often so wonderful, that if parents 
 would preserve all their speeches in writing, a lovely book 
 could be made up of them, of the greatest interest. 
 What mammas will recollect and send to you for a corner 
 of your paper, all the pretty thoughts out-spoken by 
 their little ones ? A little girl of five years, whose at- 
 tending ears had heard talking at home about High and 
 Low Church, was taken to a church where the pulpit 
 was unusually lofty. While they were singing she 
 whispered to her ma, " That minister, ma, must be very 
 high church, as high as the Communion of Saints!" 
 
 But while I am chattering about little people, our 
 yacht begins to 
 
 " rock lightly on the tide," 
 
 and curvets and rears like a cantering pony to the un- 
 dulating waves, which ever and forever roll and unroll 
 themselves in the deep sea. The motion is, however, by 
 no means unpleasant ; but we have to look after move- 
 ables, and whoever tries to walk, goes toddling about not 
 half so gracefully as my little Harry, whose natural gait 
 being a roll, is quite at home as he moves about the 
 cabin, his roll, meeting the yacht's roll, counteracts it, 
 and he goes about straight as an Indian. The weather 
 is always delightful at this season, and never was a 
 lovelier evening than that, amid the roseate and golden 
 beauties of which we sailed across the channel to the 
 island, which lay like a huge emerald upon a sea of silver 
 rosSe, to gallicise a word. 
 
476 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 When about a mile from the island, and just as the 
 sun descended into the deep, all the gentlemen together 
 fired off a feu de joie. At this loud fusilade, ten thousand 
 ducks that were reposing upon the surface of the water 
 near the island, rose like a black cloud into the sky, and 
 flew round and round in a wild vortex, about a hundred 
 feet in the air; while herons, pelicans, and gulls, that 
 were in the covert of the island-shore, startled from their 
 propriety, scattered in all ways and in the utmost alarm. 
 With the spy-glass, an alligator, a rare visitor in salt 
 water, was seen to plunge into the water ; and last, yet 
 not least, the sloop which was moored about a mile from 
 us, close under the island, hurriedly slipped her cable, 
 hoisted her mainsail and jib, and fairly ran away from 
 us, no doubt believing our merry and peaceful pic-nic 
 party, a piratical expedition; or at least of such "ques- 
 tionable shape," as not to be waited for! Thereupon 
 the bearded ones of our company set up a wild and loud 
 huzza, and cheered the flying sloop with the greatest 
 good humor imaginable. 
 
 "Doubtless," said my quiet husband, "that skipper, 
 wdien he reaches New Orleans, will report having seen 
 and been fired into, and hotly pursued by a flotilla of 
 seven armed boats, full of men, off the mouth of Bayou 
 La Fourche ! and that he and his crew only escaped, by 
 slipping his cable and putting to sea." The result 
 showed that my husband was in the right. 
 
 The wind left our canvass as we drew near the island, 
 which the Spaniards call "Isla de Boca," but the old 
 Frenchmen, "Isle des Oiseaux," or Isle of Birds. It is 
 about a league in length and half a mile wide, with 
 clumps of live oaks sprinkled over its surface, which is 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 477 
 
 dry and elevated, but without any variation of its 
 perfect level. The rowers pulled into a little cove, 
 where we moored our fleet ; and by the light of the rising 
 moon the gentlemen landed in the small boats, and 
 began to look out a place for the servants to set up the 
 tent. 
 
 On board the admiral's vessel — that is in my ship — 
 the ladies all assembled to take tea by invitation while 
 the gentlemen superintended and assisted in landing the 
 paraphernalia. We had a pleasant time and a laugh- 
 ringing one, at our supper, which was gracefully handed 
 round by Petit. In less than an hour the great tent or 
 "markee" was erected, and lifted its white pyramidal 
 walls in the soft moonlight like a palace of pearl. In 
 the centre was suspended a swinging lamp, that brightly 
 lighted the interior. Camp-stools, a table, lounges, and 
 all the furniture necessary to make it a handsome draw- 
 ing-room, were placed within. There were five other 
 tents smaller than this, two of which were exclusively 
 for the ladies' abodes ; though one or two of them, from 
 fear of horrid alligators, imaginary lions, tigers, wolves, 
 and bears, to say nothing of dreadful elephants, de- 
 termined to keep their quarters in the cabins of the 
 yachts. 
 
 Hammocks and iron-framed bedsteads were provided 
 for those who chose to sleep in the tents. The spot 
 where our little snow-white city was thus magically built 
 was very picturesque. A crescent shaped cove of spark- 
 ling sand was in front, where the yachts lay moored, 
 bows outward, in a half-circle, like a fleet protecting a 
 harbor; overhead spread the interlaced branches of three 
 great oaks, and near was a well of pure water, which the 
 
478 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 buccaneers who liad once resorted to this island, had dug; 
 for this ishmd is not far from Barrataria Bay and Isle, 
 where "Lafitte" had his rendezvous before the last war 
 with England; and in the sweet place where we pitched 
 our camp, Theodore and Constanza had doubtless walked 
 and sighed and loved beneath the same golden moon that 
 shone on us. 
 
 "Suppose," said one of our romantic young ladies 
 "that there should be buccaneers here now, and that they 
 should suddenly appear in one of their terrible long, low, 
 black schooners opposite our cove, and come in and fight 
 with our defenders, conquer them, and carry us all off to 
 some remote isle, where in some splendid cavern they 
 live like kings and lords!" 
 
 The pretty Marie ejaculated, "Not for the world!" 
 The noble Mathilde smiled and said, "How romantic it 
 tvoiddheV Grace Lyndall, one of our belles, clapped 
 her beautiful hands and exclaimed, 
 
 " Of all things how I sJwuld like it!" 
 
 "Don't speak of such things, I beg of you," said the 
 young and charming Madame Dumont, who with her 
 husband had joined us, the evening before, from their 
 plantation. 
 
 " The tents are all pitched and ready for occupation, 
 fair dames all," said Monsieur M. from the shore, "but 
 what are you talking about? — the pirates?" 
 
 "Yes, colonel, and we were wishing that a nice, long, 
 low, black, saucy-looking schooner, would pay us a 
 sudden visit, and carry us all off," said Grace; and this 
 girl had the richest voice, that I ever heard from 
 woman's lips ; every sound that music knows were min- 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 4V9 
 
 gled with a surfeit of sweetness in the gohlen alembic 
 of its tones. 
 
 We were soon all on shore, and were perfectly charmed 
 with the preparations which the taste and attention of 
 the gentlemen had made for us. The green sward, the 
 bright moon, a violin which Scipio (one of our boatmen) 
 was tuning, and the joyousness of the occasion tempted 
 us to dance; and for an hour we outdid Queen Mab and 
 her fairy ball. Suddenly, while we were in the midst 
 of our gaiety, a long, low, black, ominous-looking vessel 
 poked her sharp nose around the point, and as her tall 
 sails became visible in the broad moonbeams, Grace 
 Lyndall, who j&rst espied it, as she was splendidly schot- 
 tisching with her cousin Louis, uttered the loudest and 
 most terrified shriek, that I ever heard or ever hope to 
 hear! 
 
 It transfixed us all like statues, and Scipio's music 
 froze stifi* on the strings of his fiddle bow. Grace ended 
 her scream in total unconsciousness, for she became 
 instantly insensible on Louis' arm. The rest of the 
 ladies, beholding the same dreadful vision, took up the 
 key-note, and screamed "most musically," each clinging 
 to one of the gentlemen. 
 
 Mari^ gasped to my husband, "Save — oh — save me!" 
 As for myself, I was petrified with bewildering asto- 
 nishment. That it could be a buccaneer, I could not 
 for a moment believe; but reflecting where we were, 
 and what the island had been, I began to wish little 
 Harry and myself and husband and all of us safe at home 
 again. 
 
 The younger gentlemen ran for their arms; but be- 
 fore any defensive steps could be taken, the whole 
 
480 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 hull of the schooner came in open view, not three 
 hundred yards distant, and from her deck came a 
 hoarse hail, that nearly killed out what little courage I 
 had left. 
 
 ^'Ahoy ! what boats are those?" 
 
 And with the words we could see a lighted fusee in 
 the hand of a man who was standing by a cannon that 
 was pointing towards poor us. 
 
 "Pirates without question!" said my husband gravely; 
 " and we must make the best battle we can !" 
 
 "Oh, no — no !" cried the ladies; "it cannot be so bad 
 as that!" 
 
 " Ahoy, ashore ! Give an account of yourselves, or 
 we fire into you !" was again thundered from her deck. 
 
 "A pleasure party," answered the colonel; "nothing 
 more ! Are you the surveying Revenue Cutter?" 
 
 "Yes," answered the officer on deck, laughing so that 
 we could hear him; "beg pardon for disturbing you. 
 But we were informed by the skipper of a sloop, an hour 
 ago, that hailed us on the south side of the island, that 
 he had been chased by a fleet of armed boats. The 
 ladies will please accept my apologies and regrets for 
 alarming them." 
 
 We were now all mortification and laughter. The 
 captain of the cutter was hailed, and invited to land, 
 which he did in a four-oared boat. He was a fine- 
 looking young officer, and enjoyed our fright vastly, 
 when the gentlemen — to two of whom he was known 
 — informed him of our table chat about "Lafitte." 
 We invited him to dine with us next day, as he grace- 
 fully took his leave of us, and in a little while we 
 
 I 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 481 
 
 saw the vessel Avhich had caused us such a terrible fright 
 
 gliding slowly and beautifully away until she was lost in 
 
 the distant haze of mist and moonbeams. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 31 
 
'1^2 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK, 
 
 LETTER LXIV. 
 
 Deae Mr. 
 
 It seems to me very strange that people will not 
 take folks as they are, and not amuse themselves with 
 guessing that somebody is somebody else. Now I hear 
 and see from certain editorial notices of my poor 
 Needles, that I am not Kate Conyngham at all, but that 
 this is a no7n de plume, a mere masque to conceal my 
 true features. Another saucy fellow of an editor as- 
 serts that I am not a Miss at all, but that I am a Mister 
 W., or 3Iister D., or some other gentleman. Dear me ! 
 What can there be so masculine in my poor Needles as 
 to give rise to such a hint ? Even those sage persons- 
 who believe me to be a lady declare that I am Miss 
 Pardee, the authoress ; some, that I am the fair daughter 
 
 of the Rev. Mr. of Mobile ; and some, that I am 
 
 a younger sister of ; and somebody says, I dare 
 
 say, that I am nobody at all. 
 
 Now, Mr. , I protest against all this skepticism. 
 
 Have I not been for five years, or more, your corres- 
 pondent ? Can you not bear testimony to my person- 
 ality and alleged identity ? Have you not seen my let- 
 ters, and have you not, at this moment, my daguerreo- 
 type ? I call upon you to bear witness to my having 
 been Miss Katharine Conyngham, and no other lady else, 
 and that, though I am now a married dame, I am entitled 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 483 
 
 to that former name, if I choose to retain it as an au- 
 thoress. Because the talented Fanny Fern, Grace Green- 
 woody and other brilliant autorial ladies, have noms 
 de plume, is no reason that every one should have ! 
 
 Please say to these naughty editors that I am myself, 
 and nobody else, and that I am not a mere shadow, an 
 '' umhra umhrarum^'" — if that is bad Latin recollect it 
 is lady's Latin ; and that ladies can decline Bonus better 
 than a certain western member of congress, who once 
 gave, ^s the relic of schooldom, the following toast : — 
 
 " The ladies — Bonus, bonior, honissimus ! good, better, 
 best ! The Lord bless 'em !" 
 
 But to our pic-nic campaign ! I ended my last letter 
 with an account of our visit from an imaginary buccaneer. 
 That night we slept as safely in our tents as we should 
 have done at home ; and as the gentlemen took turns, 
 two at the time, in standing guard to see that we were 
 not intruded upon by mischievous animals from land or 
 water, we felt perfectly secure. I recollect falling asleep, 
 soothed by the sweet melody of a guitar and a fine manly 
 voice. It was the cavalier, Louis, serenading outside her 
 tent the fair Mathilde within. 
 
 In the morning we were up bright and early, and, 
 finding breakfast all prepared by the willing servants, 
 we were soon ready for the day's adventures. The 
 order for the day was, that the ladies who chose to do so 
 should accompany the hunters in the largest yacht, as 
 the former rowed around the island, in search of game ; 
 and that they should fish, crochet, read, and amuse 
 themselves as they pleased, while the gentlemen landed 
 and pursued their sport. 
 
 We had a delightful row around the point, to the south 
 
484 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 of the island, where we again saw the cutter which we 
 had taken for a buccaneer. It was a beautiful object, all 
 grace and symmetry, her white wings spread, and her 
 taper masts diminishing to mere wands. 
 
 With all her lightness and grace, her black hull and 
 warlike guns gave her a battle air that made me think 
 of sea fights, and all the horrors of naval warfare. 
 
 Far away to the west we saw two other vessels, one of 
 which was the runaway sloop ; but she was now trying 
 to regain the mouth of the Lafourche, no doubt satisfied 
 that, as the revenue cutter did not molest us, we were 
 harmless people, wdth all our fusihading and huzzaing. 
 
 But I will not take up your time, Mr. , in making 
 
 you read a complete journal of our ten days' stay in the 
 islands of the Gulf, for we did not confine ourselves to 
 the Isle of Birds, but on the fifth day, during which we 
 had charming weather, the gentlemen got up an expedi- 
 tion to Barrataria Bay, a few leagues eastward. They 
 had got weary of killing ! Birds of all wings, alligators, 
 deer, and fish of all fins, had rewarded them and our 
 praiseworthy efi'orts ; and a change, for the sake of 
 variety, was gladly welcomed. We, therefore, left a 
 guard of two servants with our tents, and, having pro- 
 visioned our boats for three days, we all embarked in the 
 sunny, bright morning on our coasting expedition. At 
 this season of the year the weather is all unbrokenly 
 fair, and rain was no more to be feared than an earth- 
 quake. 
 
 It was a delightful voyage along the curving Gulf 
 shore, from which we did not venture more than four or 
 five miles. Now and then we could see a distant sail 
 that lay low on the horizon, and looking no bigger than 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 485 
 
 a lady's fincrer-nail. About noon I discovered, with my 
 "sharp" eyes, a brown smoke, seemingly rising from 
 the sea. I pointed it out to Marie, and she exclaimed: 
 
 " A volcano at sea !" 
 
 Whereupon everybody looked from all the boats. 
 
 " It is a steamer, bound from New Orleans to Gal- 
 veston," said my husband, the admiral of our fleet. 
 
 "But we see no vessel, only smoke," remarked Grace, 
 trying to steady a spy glass, which Louis was holding 
 with both hands to her eye. 
 
 " The boat itself is under the line of the horizon," said 
 Colonel M. 
 
 " The periphery of the earth conceals it beneath the 
 curved line of the arc of the convex horizon," said one 
 of the young men who had lately left college, and was 
 entitled to talk learnedly. 
 
 The sight of a column of smoke, actually rising from 
 beneath the level sea line of the horizon, was a novel 
 sight. "With the spy-glass we could see the smoke rolling 
 and rolling skyward, as if not more than a mile apparent 
 distance, yet no sign of chimney or masts discernible I 
 There it ascended from its invisible smoke-pipe, for all 
 the world like a volcano belching itself up out of the 
 Gulf. We followed it with our eyes until it gradually 
 receded westward, and disappeared in an hour far below 
 the horizon's arc. 
 
 It is a very strange sight to see smoke traveling along 
 the sea in that style, without any apparent cause ap 
 pcnded. What a visible proof of the earth's sphericity 
 it is ! I recollect when we passed Portsmouth, in 
 England, the masts only of the British fleet were visible, 
 looking like a forest in the water, the hulls being below 
 
480 THE SUNNY south: or 
 
 the curve. The truth is, that there can be no such thing 
 as a perfectly straight line on this globulous earth ! Even 
 the yardstick is but a curved wand, to be sure the arc 
 it makes is not perceptible; and the floors of our houses 
 if extended far enough, would form an arc of the earth's 
 circle of more or less degrees. The term level is a 
 misnomer — it does not exist. There is nothing level or 
 plane — sphericity possesses all things terrestrial. 
 
 One wouldn't suppose that such a big world as ours 
 would betray its roundness, in so short a distance as lay 
 between us and the steamer. I have no doubt, with 
 proper data to start with, that the height of a steamer's 
 chimney being known, and also her exact distance from 
 the eye, a calculation could be made which would reach 
 a figure that would show the earth's circumference in 
 miles. 
 
 Last summer, while at the beautiful watering place at 
 Pass Christian, I made a curious and perhaps new 
 calculation of ascertaining the distance of an object. 
 There is a light-ship moored nine miles off the town. I 
 found that by placing a small needle at arm's length 
 horizontally until the needle and ship cqjpeared to be ex- 
 actly the same length, which is when the needle covers 
 the ship's length completely, that I could verify the dis- 
 tance to be nine miles. I did it in this way : I first fixed 
 the needle horizontally by striking it in a post level with 
 my eye. I then stepped back until the needle and ship 
 were blended in one another exactly. I then measured 
 the distance between my eye and the needle in inches. 
 As I knew the length of the needle and of the ship, with 
 these three known terms, I obtained accurately, the 
 fourth unknown one. Perhaps the process is known to 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 487 
 
 mathematicians ; if so, I will not take out a patent. I 
 wish some of your ^' great cypherers" would verify this 
 process. 
 
 But I am getting too learned, and must go back to our 
 pic-nic. All that day we coasted along the level green 
 shores of the Gulf, with not a tree visible for two and 
 three leagues inland, and then they looked like round blue 
 clouds. No shores can be more tame ! 
 
 At length, just as the lovely day was closing, we came 
 into the mouth of "Lafitte's Bay," as it is termed, and 
 on our right saw the island Barrataria, where the bucca- 
 neer had his rendezvous. Now it looked peaceful enough. 
 A few fishermen and a fleet of oyster boats were anchored 
 around it, plying their fishy trade ; and we could discover 
 above a group of trees the roof of a mansion where resides, 
 or did reside, a planter, who had a sugar plantation on the 
 island. The gentleman's name I believe is Bennet, and 
 he has fair daughters, whose presence throw a grace over 
 the scenes of ancient buccaneerdom, that disassociates 
 the island of all its former renown, as the home of the 
 pirates. We remained on board our boats all night ; and 
 such a star bright night never was ! The atmosphere ap- 
 peared to be full of light. The splendor of the fixed stars, 
 and the milder lustre of the planets were unsurpassed. 
 The heavens seemed to come nearer to us. Every star 
 above had a star beneath it on the sea; and when the 
 moon arose about eleven o'clock, there was a pavement 
 of silver across the water from our feet to her very 
 throne. 
 
 The next day we wandered over the island, and pic- 
 nic' d on the grassy glacis of the ruined fortress which 
 Lafitte fortified to defend his island home against cruisers. 
 
488 THE SUNNY SOUTH*. OR, 
 
 A large oak stood near, beneath which he had his tent, 
 which, says tradition, was more hixuriously furnished 
 than an Oriental prince's. We were shown by an old 
 French fisherman, who knew Lafitte, a gun that once 
 belonged to his vessel; and as the old man, who could 
 not have been less than seventy, loved to talk of the 
 famous smuggler, we let him relate his stories to which 
 we listened — being on the.ground itself of the scenes — 
 with lively interest. 
 
 Louis read aloud several pages from one of the ro- 
 mances, and we sought to verify all the descriptions ; but 
 novelists cannot always make use of placid and level 
 scenery, and they remove mountains and place them 
 where they want them ; and gardens, waterfalls, vales 
 and groves, cliffs and rivulets, all obey the waving of 
 their wand, and presto ! appear when they command. 
 But w^e found mainly the novel and the scene in gratify- 
 ing harmony, one with the other ; and where there was 
 a difference, was evidently owing to the changes pro- 
 duced by time and circumstances. Our visit was a most 
 satisfactory one, and we re-embarked at evening, de- 
 lighted with our excursion over the Pirate's Isle. 
 
 On the evening of the third day we reached our en- 
 campment without mishap, and found all safe. The 
 next morning we struck tents, and, with our boats filled 
 with game and its trophies, we set sail, with a fine land- 
 w^ard wind, for the mouth of La Fourche. As you al- 
 ready know the scenery of that bayou, Mr. , I will 
 
 not describe our voyage home, which we reached on the 
 third day, all well, and marvelously sun-browned ; look- 
 ing like so many gipsies. As for my Harry, the little 
 fellow's cheeks are as brown a? a chinquapin ; but he has 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 489 
 
 gained full four pounds, and is more saucy and liandsome 
 than ever. 
 
 I was charmed to be once more at home. Not all the 
 beautiful cabins and pretty yachts, and fishing and 
 camping out under markees, can compensate for one's 
 own home. Home is home, and nothing else could he 
 home ! I would rather live in a cabin of logs, and feel 
 that it was my home ; that there was a peg for my hus- 
 band's hat ; a place for his chair in one corner, and my 
 work-stand in the other ; on my right hand vii/ little tea 
 cup-board, and on the other the stand with the large 
 Bible, the cat on the rug, and old Buck, the house-dog, 
 chained in his kennel ; my milch-coAV and her calf in the 
 neat yard, and nobody to molest or rule over us, as one 
 finds it even in the best of boarding-houses. 
 
 There is a wretched and unhappy custom in vogue, for 
 young married couples to go to a hotel or boarding- 
 house ! When should husband and wife love to be by 
 themselves in their own home, if not the first months 
 and year of marriage ? It is a miserable life, garish, 
 hollow, artificial, love-killing, heart-withering life, this 
 boarding, for young couples ! Girls, better wait a-wee ! 
 better delay than be married and put under the peculiar 
 system of keen-eyed espionage and authority common to 
 boarding-houses. Boarders have no souls of their own 
 — that is, they dare not sa?/ so ! Keep house — if only 
 in one room ! You wdll be happier, and your husband 
 wall love you better, and it will be far better for you 
 both. A boarding-house life, for the fresh young hearts 
 of new married folks, is, with all deference and respect 
 for all lady-like, and good, kind landladies, like a killing 
 
490 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 frost upon tlic young buds of spring. One never liveB 
 that boards ! One only stays and endures ! 
 
 But, good-bye, Mr. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Kate, and nobody else. 
 
 \ 
 
THE SOUTnERNER AT HOME. 491 
 
 LETTER LXV. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 I AM, for a few days, sojourning in this lovely shore- 
 side village of villas, Pass Christian. It is, as the map 
 will, or ought to show you, on Lake Pontchartrain, where 
 the south border of Mississippi is washed by the waves 
 of the salt sea. The "Pass," as it is familiarly called, 
 is celebrated for its pure and salubrious air, the beauty 
 of its site, the elegance of its private mansions, the re- 
 finement and wealth of its citizens, its excellent academy 
 of education for young misses, and its military school ; 
 moreover, it is the favorite summer resort of the more 
 opulent New Orleanois, many of whom have built taste- 
 ful abodes along the shore facing the lake, where gar- 
 dens and lawns, porticoes and verandahs, enchant the 
 
 eye. 
 
 There is properly only one street comprising the town ; 
 but this street is four miles long, open one side to the 
 breezes of gulf, and on the other bordered by handsome 
 villas, most of its length. 
 
 A little brown Roman Catholic chapel lifts its cross 
 amid these mansions, its front adorned with two statues, 
 one of the Virgin, and another of St. Paul, in a niche 
 high above the entrance. There is appended to the lat- 
 ter, this inscription : — 
 
492 the sunny south; or, 
 
 "doctori gentiam;" 
 
 So, to the Teacher of the Nations, this chapel is dedi- 
 cated, while "Mary," like the goddess Diana, (for the 
 blessed Virgin is now made a goddess by the Pope,) 
 stands upon a pedestal above, to receive the homage and 
 worship of her votaries. Jesus, being always repre- 
 sented only as a little child, is quite cast into the shade 
 by His mother. The Romans, in their adorations, never 
 seem to contemplate Christ as a man, but only as the 
 "child Jesus" in the mother's arms, and hence transfer 
 all their worship to the mother, whom, it w^ould seem, 
 they believe more capable of appreciating it than a babe. 
 I think this, as I have before remarked, is the secret of 
 their Mariolatry. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is a pretty little chapel, and in keep- 
 ing with the place ; but its worshipers are chiefly of the 
 humble class of Creole fishermen, and descendants of 
 the old French families ; for the Pass was once wholly 
 French. Here the Marquis of Ponchartrain once so- 
 journed, and buried his only daughter, who, report says, 
 died of love for an Indian Prince. Her grave is beneath 
 three live oaks that stand on the verge of the beach, not 
 far from the chapel ; but the head-stone has long since 
 disappeared. It was this nobleman who gave name to 
 the lake. The residence of the Marquis, who was one 
 of the most accomplished courtiers of the French court, 
 and sent by Louis to govern this Province, is now marked 
 only by the site of the light house, which stands in a 
 garden; a lovely object, peering above the trees, and 
 singularly contrasting with the usual desolate look of 
 such edifices, standing alone and treeless upon some 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 493 
 
 storm-beaten headland. In the same garden with this 
 snow-white tower, which, after sunset sends its brilliant 
 light far out upon the waters, guiding the mariner home, 
 is the village post-office ; a snug little cottage nestling 
 under its walls. The post-master is a "lady," and the 
 daughter, if I mistake not, of the famous Captain Ilearn, 
 who, in the last war, beat off a British vessel that was 
 coming in to fire the town ; or he did some equally brave 
 act, for which, government at this day rewards the 
 daughter by an office, as it did the father. A son of 
 this sea-fighter commanded the superb steamer, Cuba, in 
 which we came over from New Orleans ; and, though a 
 large, rough looking man, he has a great and generous 
 heart, and is as true a gentleman as ever took off his hat 
 to a lady ; and looks as, if there were any more fighting 
 to do for his country, he would not be found wanting. 
 When I was quite a young girl, I used to think no man 
 could be a gentleman who did not dress in the "fashion," 
 wear kid gloves, a nicely brushed hat, and polished boots, 
 with one ring at least, and a gold watch. But that was 
 the folly and ignorance of girlhood, which thinks all lov- 
 ers should be knights in helmet and buckler, and that no 
 young knight was fit for a lady's love who had not killed 
 his rival and her other lover in a "wager of battle." 
 
 Dear me ! I have had time to reverse my decision 
 since then ; and much dressed men I always suspect ! 1 
 have found in the world that the truest merit is without 
 affectation ; and that a right down gentleman thinks but 
 little of fashion ; and so I have met with as noble and 
 true gentlemen in rough linsey-woolsey garb, as in 
 broadcloth. In a word, I do not noiv form a precon- 
 ceived opinion of a man from his dress or appearance. 
 
494 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 The most eminent men tliat one falls in with in tra- 
 veling, are the plainest and simplest in dress and 
 manner. 
 
 The Pass, as I have said, consists in one long street, 
 that winds and bends with the graceful curve of the lake 
 shore. About the centre of this is the landing place, 
 where passengers embark and disembark for Mobile or 
 New Orleans; these cities being about equi-distant (or 
 seven hours' sail) on each side of the Pass. 
 
 About half a mile from the pier, westward, is the 
 Lake Institute, at the head of which is the Rector of the 
 church here. Rev. Dr. Savage, the gentleman who was 
 pioneer in the Cape Palmas mission, and who remained 
 nine years in Africa, which owes more to him than to any 
 other man living, for her religious prosperity. The 
 doctor is a scientific man, and is a member of several 
 foreign and cis- Atlantic Academies of Science ; and, as 
 a naturalist, he stands in the front rank. I was charmed 
 with a visit made yesterday to his school, which is a 
 large southern-built mansion house, facing the lake, from 
 which it is separated by a spacious lawn, tastefully orna- 
 mented. The trees of a pine grove form a dark, rich 
 background to the house and its dormitories and study 
 hall. This school is the best in the South, and deservedly 
 has a high reputation. It numbers about sixty pupils, 
 which, I believe, is its full limit. It is patronized chiefly 
 by Mobile and New Orleans ; and of the former city I 
 saw at least a dozen fair girls, whose beauty gives one a 
 favorable idea of female loveliness in that city, which we 
 are soon to visit. 
 
 So great is the hostility of the northern abolitionists 
 against the South, that southern parents are becoming 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT UOME. 495 
 
 more and more reluctant to send their sons and daugh- 
 ters there to return with hostile opinions to create dis- 
 cord and confusion at home. For self-protection they 
 are rallying around their own Colleges and Female In- 
 stitutes ; and all that has been wanting was this union 
 of purpose, to raise schools of learning to the highest 
 scholastic rank. Northern teachers are regarded with 
 suspicion, though employed. Lately Professor Silliman 
 has struck a death-bloAV to the sending southern young 
 men north, by asserting in a public lecture : ^' We do 
 not want your southern youth ! We can get along with- 
 out them !" It will be a bold Southerner that sends his 
 son to a northern college after this. 
 
 Even the school-books published in the North are to 
 be expurgated, ere they will be introduced into Southern 
 schools, for instance, in a geography now before me, 
 printed in New York, occurs a sentence which says "that 
 the negroes will yet one day rise against the Southern 
 planters and destroy them;" and fifty other such things 
 are in Northern school books. The result will be, that 
 unless Abolitionism cease its hostility, the South will 
 separate itself from the North virtually, by having its 
 own teachers, schools, clergy, mechanics, literature, and 
 books of education. 
 
 The church, of which the Rev. Dr. Savage is Kector, 
 is near the Institute, in a grove of oaks and pines. It 
 is a picturesque Gothic edifice, and the very beau ideal 
 of a rural church. In the rear is the cemetery, with a 
 handsome arch above the gate- way, and contains several 
 tasteful tombs. A Sabbath holiness and quiet reigned 
 over the spot when I visited it yesterday. I was shown 
 there the grave of a wealthy young South Carolinian, 
 
496 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 who had been a dissipated man and a sceptic. Just be- 
 fore he died he desired ten acres to be purchased of 
 government in the wild forest beyond the town, and a 
 grave to be dng in the centre, wherein he directed his 
 friends to place his body; and after filling the grave, to 
 smooth it level with the surrounding earth, and removing 
 all signs of sepulture, let the grass and the brush groAV 
 up and conceal it from human search ; and in order that 
 it might be forgotten, the land was never to be claimed 
 by his heritors, but to revert to the government again as 
 wild land. 
 
 This Will — the expression of a soul dark and desolate, 
 without the hopes and promises of the Gospel, which 
 make the grave a hallowed rest, above which Hope ever 
 hovers on golden wings, waiting the resurrection morn — 
 this Will w^as, of course, not carried out. His body was 
 conveyed to this secluded cemetery, and here interred, 
 with all the respect that the living owe the dead. 
 
 Upon leaving this solemn home of the dead of earth, 
 our steps took us in the direction of a mound near the 
 village blacksmith's dingy shop. Already I knew the 
 story of this green mound of earth ; but an old negro, 
 "Uncle Tom," at the shop, gravely and politely, with 
 his hat in his hand, informed my husband, "Dat it was 
 de fort General Jackson fout the Indjuns from." Gen- 
 eral Jackson however never "fout" at the Pass. 
 
 The mound is now much worn away ; but trees grow 
 upon it showing its age. It is an interesting relic of the 
 past. By the French it was called the "Young King's 
 Tomb." The tradition is, that when the Indian chief 
 heard that Eugenie, the daughter of Marquis Pontchar- 
 train, had wilted and died like a blighted flower, he 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 497 
 
 refused to eat, broke his spear in two, buried his arrows, 
 and sat day and night upon her grave singing his death 
 Bong. At length he was found cold and dead one sun- 
 rise, his head laid upon her grave. The warriors bore 
 his body to the place where his father was buried, and 
 entombed him with his arms, beneath a mound which 
 their affection raised to his memory. Not far distant is 
 another mound, not so high, where repose the bones of 
 Tamala, his father. The sound of the forge and the 
 anvil alone break the stillness of the spot. 
 
 As we turned away to resume our loitering about the 
 Pass, a man walked slowly by, whom a lady, who was 
 with us, pointed out as the son of a celebrated buccaneer 
 who used to rendezvous here. 
 
 Afterwards I saw this man, now a peaceable citizen, 
 part farmer, part fisherman, who not only verified the 
 assertion, but from him I learned that his brother, who 
 dwelt upon the coast, had in his possession a package of 
 papers and a chart of an island in the Gulf, which directed 
 where exactly to find buried a great treasure. This 
 treasure consisted of the spoils, he said, of Spanish ships, 
 and had been buried on one of the Tortugas' ; but no man 
 had yet been to search for it. He has promised to get 
 the papers, which he said are written in French, and a 
 
 copy of the chart. Hear that, Mr. ! The next I 
 
 shall hear of you, may be, that you are commanding a 
 schooner in search of this hidden treasure ! 
 
 There is no doubt about this man having "the papers," 
 I am told by a gentleman here ; but as such researches 
 have so often proved failures, no attention has been paid 
 
 to the fact. You shall be duly informed, Mr. , when 
 
 I discover the hidden gold. 
 32 
 
498 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 This was once a famous haunt for buccaneers, and after 
 cruisers broke up their "dreadful trade," they settled 
 down here in quiet occupations ; and among the humble 
 French citizens, are found their descendants — inoffensive 
 people enough, who subsist by fishing and coasting. 
 
 There is a Military Academy here under the command 
 of Ashbel Green, once a lawyer in Philadelphia, and son 
 to a former President of Princeton College. It is, I 
 understand, a very efficient school, with about fifty 
 cadets. 
 
 There is an amusing peculiarity of water scenery 
 here at the Pass. Every house on the shore has its 
 private bath-house. The water being shoal, they are 
 erected at the end of a wharf projecting sometimes a 
 thousand feet out into the lake. Thus, when one looks 
 up or down the shore in front of the town, the eye is 
 filled with the spectacle of one or two hundred narrow 
 bridges and bathing-houses, built on the water. At even- 
 ing and other bathing-hours, these bridges "in the season" 
 are filled with ladies and children and servants, going to 
 and from the baths ; the former grotesquely arrayed in 
 long waistless robes of calico or gingham, and their faces 
 concealed by horrid hoods or veils. At such hours, 
 gentlemen are tabooed the baths ; but they have their 
 time too. Nothing is thought of, or spoken of in summer, 
 but bathing. "Have you bathed to-day?" takes the 
 place of "How do you do?" in other places. Not to 
 bathe daily is to be voted out of society. 
 
 The school-girls go to the bath in merry parties at 
 day-dawn, and frights they look in their awkward, loose 
 bathing gear. I am told these misses swim like ducks, 
 and have been out as far as a buoy in the channel, a 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME/ 499 
 
 quarter of a mile beyond the bath house. But this is 
 now forbidden, as a young lady from Mobile, last summer, 
 being too venturesome, and not yet as skillful a swimmer 
 as her companions, in following them out became wearied 
 and sank. Two of her companions, both a year younger 
 than herself, but good swimmers, bravely dove down and 
 brought her to the surface, and sustained her until they 
 regained footing. 
 
 It must be laborious swimming in those heavy saturated 
 robes which the bathers wear. I never had courage to 
 go beyond the latticed fence of the bath house; and 
 then I am afraid that some ugly fish, crab, or "fiddler" 
 will bite my feet ! Yet bathing is a luxury ; and some 
 of the citizens bathe before every meal, all summer 
 long. 
 
 We remain here a week longer, and then proceed to 
 Mobile on our way north to pass the summer. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Kate. 
 
500 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 LETTER LXVI. 
 
 Mobile, Alabama, 1855. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 This lovely Southern metropolis has heen our sojourn 
 for a week past, and has presented so many attractions 
 both to me and my husband, that, were we not desirous 
 of being in New York early in June, we should yield to 
 the solicitation of many kind friends and our own wishes, 
 and enjoy its refined hospitality for some days longer. 
 
 The Mobileans are genuine Southerners by birth and 
 feeling ; that is, this city is not made up, like New Orleans, 
 of strangers, but mainly of those who are '^.to the manor 
 born." It reminds me more of Charleston, South 
 Carolina, m this respect; and gives, like that elegant 
 city, a true representation of Southern manners. . 
 
 We left the delightful watering place. Pass Christian, 
 and by a reverse course towards New Orleans met and 
 boarded another steamer, the Oregon, at the Lake wharf, 
 and so came hither, running across the lakes by moon 
 and star-light. We passed late at night Round Island, 
 celebrated as the rendezvous of the Filibusteros three 
 years ago. It now lay huge and black upon the horizon, 
 a league off, looking like Behemoth asleep. Around us 
 gleamed three or four light-houses, penciling the water's 
 rippling face with slender lines of golden threads. Over 
 us glittered the thousand worlds of glory, which we call 
 stars. In the west, Orion had just sheathed in the wave 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 501 
 
 his "bright, star-gcmmcd sword. The moon walked in 
 brightness high above the horizon, and seemed to glory 
 in her beauty and purity. 
 
 My husband and I walked the deck till late, enjoying 
 the sea-Avind, for one never takes cold at sea. Such a fresh 
 breeze on land would have chilled me to the heart. But 
 bonnetless and shawlless, I continued on deck till mid- 
 night. As we were about to go to our room, a dark 
 object, over which seemed to hover a cloud of snow, was 
 visible ahead. As we came nearer, I made out the shape 
 of a schooner, her white sails shining in the moon, while 
 her black hull was in shadovr. 
 
 " Ilelm-a-port !" was the quick order from some one 
 on deck. 
 
 The steamer abruptly changed her straightforward 
 course, and steered round the vessel, but so near as to 
 create no little commotion on board of her. We passed 
 so near that I could have tossed my fan upon her quarter 
 deck, where stood a man vfith a pipe, uttering strange 
 oaths, instead of blessings at his escape. In a few 
 minutes, the little vessel was mino-lino^ with the ob- 
 scurity of night in the distance, and soon disappeared 
 altogether. 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning I was aroused by per- 
 sons talking on the "guard," near our window; and on 
 looking out found we w^ere moving through a narrow 
 pass, and close to us was a dwelling house, built on a 
 small island of sand. The cocks were crowing, (among 
 them a horrid, hoarse, bellowing Shanghai,) dogs barking, 
 men shouting, and the water dashing and splashing against 
 the little island as we slowly shoved our way through. 
 The chambermaid told me that this picturesque place, this 
 
502 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 "Half-way House," in the Gulf, was called "Grass 
 Patch." I wondered at the appellation, since blade of 
 grass on this sand-bank there was not one ! But the 
 captain the next morning enlightened us, bj calling it 
 " Grant's Pass," so named from the proprietor. We had 
 a pleasant laugh, of course, at the transmogrification of 
 the name in the mouth of our kind and very civil cham- 
 bermaid. 
 
 Just at sunrise we came in sight of the shipping in 
 the " Lower bay" — for you must know that Mobile city is 
 thirty-five miles up from the Gulf, on a narrow " Dela- 
 w^are-sort-of-a-bay" of its own. This bay being too 
 shallow for large cotton ships, they anchor below here in 
 the " Roads," and their freight is brought down to them 
 in tug steamers, or Bay boats. This fleet consisted of 
 nearly a hundred ships and barks, and had a fine ap- 
 pearance, extending for a mile or two in length. To and 
 from its anchorage plied the smoking Bay steamers, and 
 among them sailed a graceful cutter, the vigilant watcher 
 of the coast. We subsequently met the captain of the 
 latter, Douglas Ottinger, in the city, where his charming 
 family reside. He is a remarkably " fine appearance 
 of a man," and an accomplished gentleman and sailor. 
 He is w^ell known to the world by his humane invention 
 of the Life Car, commonly called "Francis's," which has 
 saved so many hundreds of the lives of the shipwrecked. 
 To have invented and left this " car of life" to the world 
 is honor enough for any man to achieve. Francis was 
 only its builder. It should be called "The Ottinger 
 Car;" for Congress has formally recognized his right as 
 inventor. 
 
 Our trip up the Bay of Mobile was truly delightful. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 503 
 
 The morning was cloudless, tLe wind cool from the south, 
 the shores green, and dotted here and there with villas ; 
 the water lively with vessels of all kinds, moving on 
 everj possible course, and our steamer fleet, and passing 
 everything with a sort of quiet indifference, that made 
 us feel like conquerors. 
 
 These lake boats from Mobile to New Orleans are su- 
 perior to any I have sailed on, either in Europe or this 
 country. The two I have been on, the Cuba and Oregon, 
 are elegant and commodious, with attentive servants, 
 "excellently good living," that would gratify Mens. 
 Ude. The captain's civil courtesy to us all most favora- 
 bly impressed me, and led me to reflect how little civility, 
 and smiles, and courtesy cost, and how long they remain 
 upon the memory, and make a boat popular; while the 
 absence of these has a contrary effect. 
 
 The captain is a Maine man — one of those enterpris- 
 ing Portland seamen who have carried the star-spangled 
 banner into the farthest corners of the globe. His fine 
 face, his respectable gray hairs, and affable manner, pre- 
 sented as fine a portrait of an experienced captain (sailor 
 and gentleman in one) as we ever encounter. 
 
 After breakfast we came in sight of Mobile. The 
 captain, as we sailed up, was kind enough to point out 
 to my husband the several watering places in the shores, 
 such as '^ Point Clear," the Cape May of the South ; 
 kept by Chamberlain, formerly of the Revere House, 
 Boston, and a resort of the elite of Mobile ; Hollywood, 
 a charming looking retreat, crowded in summer ; besides 
 others equally beautiful. I marvel, with such delightful 
 retreats so near their city, that the Mobileans should 
 ever go North ! It is an homage the South pays the 
 
504 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 North uselessly ; and this year few will proceed North, 
 I am told, as hard times have rendered Lilliputian purses 
 indispensable, jingling with gold dollars instead of eagles. 
 
 The appearance of Mobile from the steamer did not 
 strike me as interesting. Its approach is disfigured by 
 marshy land, covered with old logs, and the forests crowd 
 close upon the city. But, as we drew nearer, the towers 
 and spires had a pretty effect ; though the outward as- 
 pect of the city, from its level site, is far from giving a 
 stranger a just idea of its real elegance and many at- 
 tractions. There was a good display of shipping at the 
 wharves, vessels of light draughts, and a fine view of 
 steamers, taking in and discharging cotton, the great 
 staple — the mighty pivot upon which the business of this 
 city of 30,000 inhabitants revolves. 
 
 We took lodgings at the Battle House, which a week's 
 experience assures me equals the favorite "New York" 
 or the Eevere House. In a word, it is a first rank 
 American hotel. The only drawback is Irish servants. 
 I can never understand them, nor they me, and this ir- 
 ritates their natural quickness, and they sometimes become 
 exceedingly disagreeable. Southerners do not know ex- 
 actly how to address servants of their own color ; and 
 being unaccustomed to them, prefer hotels where they 
 are not. But here they are better drilled and more civil 
 than I ever knew them to be. The price of the hire of 
 colored servants here is so great that, probably, white 
 servants are employed from motives of economy. The 
 proprietors have been very assiduous and polite to make 
 us comfortable, and we feel as much at home as if we 
 were prince and princess in our own palace. 
 
 For the present, au revoir. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 505 
 
 LETTER LXVII. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 There is an indescribable softness in this Southern 
 clime, a delicious indolence in its atmosphere, that, with 
 as bright suns and as soft zephyrs, are unknown in the 
 North. This dreamy air indisposes one to exertion; and 
 even to dress for dinner is an heroic effort. 
 
 A dozen times I have approached my escritoire, and 
 taken up my pen, to lay it down again, as if it were too 
 heavy for my fingers. When I do not go to my desk, I 
 sit and look at my paper and pen, that await me, and 
 reproach my idleness. It is so difficult to overcome this 
 inertia. If I could only muster resolution of mind enough 
 to make a beginning, I could go on very nicely to the 
 end; but the first word — the breaking of the ice — Mo 
 labor est. 
 
 I put this Latin in on purpose to take the occasion to 
 irform you that in my last but one "Needle," you printed 
 tli e inscription over the church door in Pass Christian, 
 all wrong, and make me (if I am a lady) responsible for 
 the barbarous word which your printer substituted for 
 what I wrote. Perhaps the mischievous urchin thought 
 any thing would do for lady's Latin. Please let your 
 readers know that the word should read, 
 
506 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OB, 
 
 "DOCTORi gentium;" 
 
 The word printed in place of the last may be Jap- 
 anese, but it is not Latin — even feminine Latin. 
 
 We leave here to-morrow en route to Montgomery, the 
 elegant capital of Alabama. This city has been less de- 
 scribed than any Southern one, yet possesses attractions 
 few possess. I am delighted with the society of Mobile. 
 The refined hospitality and cordial attention my husband 
 and myself have received from its citizens have quite won 
 our hearts. Mobile is peculiar as being a truly Southern 
 city, its principal families being born here ; and, also, for 
 being a strictly commercial metropolis. The "aristo- 
 cracy" here, as this word goes, consists of its merchant 
 princes and their families. The merchant here is " a 
 lord." The superb villas, the palatial mansions lining 
 its noble streets, the elegant country seats that adorn 
 the suburbs, are occupied almost exclusively by mer- 
 chants. 
 
 In other Southern cities reside many opulent planters, 
 whose estates lie in the interior. These gentlemen 
 usually give the tone and take the lead of society in such 
 cases; and this is particularly so in Charleston and 
 Savannah. But the principal pursuit here being com- 
 merce, like the merchants of Genoa, the commercial men 
 of Mobile are the princes of the social empire. You will, 
 of course expect to find among them intelligence, educa- 
 tion, refinement of manners, and all the social savoir faire 
 of the higher order of American society. You will not 
 be disappointed. 
 
 We have found the Mobileans among the most elegant 
 people we have ever associated with. Many families it 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 507 
 
 is my happiness to know are not surpassed in high- 
 breeding and truly elevated character by the best class 
 of English society ; and this is saying a great deal ; for I 
 look upon the best society in England as the best in the 
 world. 
 
 The medical profession and the bar and the pulpit 
 have also prominent men, and exert their influence ; but 
 these members combined are a fraction compared Avith 
 the mercantile gentlemen who, of course, give tone to, 
 and lead society. 
 
 The maritime position of Mobile, with one foot upon 
 the Gulf, and one hand grasping a quiver of rivers — the 
 Alabama, Bigbee, Warrior, and lesser ones — determines 
 its commercial character. These rivers flow for hundreds 
 of miles, through the richest cotton region of the South, 
 and bear annually to the quay of the city, cotton from 
 five to six millions of dollars in value ; while half that 
 sum in amount is returned by her merchants in supplies 
 to the planters and towns along their banks. In the 
 bay, a fleet of from sixty to a hundred cotton ships 
 carrying the flags of Great Britain, Bremen, France, 
 Sweden, Denmark, await to take on board this vast 
 amount of cotton, and convey it to the ports of their re- 
 spective nations. 
 
 Cotton is, therefore, the circulating blood that gives 
 life to the city. All its citizens are interested in this 
 staple, from the princely merchant, to whom the globe 
 with its ports is a chessboard on which he is ever making 
 his intelligent moves, to the poor cobbler, whose round 
 lapstone is Ids world. A failure in a crop of cotton, 
 would cast a cloud over every brow in this city ; for the 
 great cotton merchant, lacking his princely gains, could 
 
508 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 not build, nor employ, nor pay ; for the merchant is the 
 fountain of money — the source of dollars and cents, 
 that flow down from the stream of his own prosperity 
 through all the lesser channels, as a reservoir upon an 
 elevation communicates its fulness to a hundred pipes, 
 and these to a thousand lesser ones, till, at the farthest 
 extremity, the slave at the hydrant fills his gourd and 
 quenches his thirst. The merchants are the reservoirs, 
 and if they are not full, all suffer below them. 
 
 There is one of the finest streets I have ever seen 
 which intersects this city for two miles. It is a broad, 
 smooth, almost imperial avenue, lined chiefly by the 
 abodes of the "merchant nobles." In one of these re- 
 sides Madame Le Yert. At present she is making the 
 tour of Southern Europe, and will visit Constantinople, 
 and, perhaps, "look in" upon the Crimea ere she re- 
 turns. This lady is the daughter of a former governor 
 of Florida, and was celebrated as Miss Octavia Walton, 
 before her marriage with Dr. Le Vert, an eminent phy- 
 sician of this city, for her rare beauty of mind and 
 person. Without question, she is one of the most ac- 
 complished women of America, with powers of pleasing 
 and winning hearts and captivating all who know her, 
 that is rarely possessed. Lady Blessington was emi- 
 nently gifted in this way, and Madame Le Yert is 
 scarcely less wonderfully endowed, if the half I hear of 
 her be true ; but, perhaps, I ought not to compare with 
 such a person as the Countess of Blessington — knowing 
 her life as we do — a pure and elevated character like 
 Madame Le Yert. It is only in their personal fascina- 
 tions and varied accomplishments, that their names 
 should be placed on the same page. Here Madame Le 
 
THE SOUTIIERNEIl AT HOME. 509 
 
 Vert seems truly to be idolized. This is her liome^ and 
 all know her and speak of her in the most enthusiastic 
 and affectionate manner. Even the ladies seem to be 
 ■wholly without envy when they mention her, and cheer- 
 fully accord to her the high social position she holds. 
 The Mobile gentlemen all seem to speak of her with 
 pride, and a feeling of personal regard, that I was de- 
 lighted to witness. Truly she must be a happy woman 
 who thus wins all hearts, disarms envy by her sweetness 
 of disposition, and commands homage by her talents. A 
 French gentleman, speaking to me of her, said, with 
 rapture : — 
 
 " She can speak five languages well, and I have seen 
 her converse at the same time with a Spanish, German, 
 and French gentleman, around her, answering, question- 
 ing, and holding lively conversation with each in his own 
 tongue, and with a precision of pronunciation and ele- 
 gance of phraseology remarkable." 
 
 To the poor, I am told, she is very kind ; and stops in 
 the street to speak with the humblest widow, and affec- 
 tionately inquire after her needs. To end my account 
 of her, I will say that of fifty people I have heard speak 
 of Madame Le Vert, I heard not one syllable of envy, or 
 one word unkind. She seems to have the art of making 
 every body love her. Every body regretted we could 
 not see her ; for, not to see Madame Le Vert, they seemed 
 to feel was not seeing Mobile. I am told that an amus- 
 ing incident occurred here, of which the heroine was a 
 very accomplished person, who came here, representing 
 herself as an English lady of high rank, with letters of 
 introduction to Madame Le Vert, from some of her 
 noble friends in England. The "lady" played her card 
 
510 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 well for a few dnys, fairly imposing upon the hospitable 
 frankness of this Southern people, (who are the most de- 
 ficient in suspicion of any people in the world,) and re- 
 ceiving no little attention. But detected in some pecu- 
 lation of jewelry from a fashionable jeweler's, and bor- 
 rowing money from half a dozen gentlemen and ladies, 
 her true character was speedily developed, and leaving 
 behind several fashionable calls unreturned, she suddenly 
 disappeared on board of a vessel bound to New York. 
 She was highly accomplished, played wonderfully on the 
 piano, sang like Sontag, and danced in the extreme of 
 fashion. She said she knew Lamartine, Dickens, Bul- 
 wer, D 'Israeli — every great personage ; passed a week 
 at Idlewild with Mr. Willis ; three weeks at the house of 
 the millionaire, George Law, as his guest ; — indeed, she 
 was traveling through the United States with the inten- 
 tion of writing an impartial book, which would correct 
 the erroneous impressions her frieiids, " the nobility in 
 England" held towards this wonderful empire. 
 
 Her letters of introduction proved to be forged, as 
 was apparent, I was told, on comparing her handwriting 
 proper with these epistles. How degrading to our sex 
 to see a woman, evidently highly educated, and capable 
 of conferring honor upon it, descend so low as to go from 
 one fashionable hotel to another through the land as a 
 swindler — a ehevaliere d'industrie! This woman, who 
 was about thirty-five, spoke French fluently, and played 
 so well, that Gottschalk, who was, at the time, in the 
 same hotel, hearing her in the drawing-room, pronounced 
 her performance on the piano superior to any woman's he 
 ever heard ! With such talents, which, rightly used, 
 would command an independent income, how can a woman 
 
THE SOUTIIEENER AT HOME. 511 
 
 tlius deceive and wickedly act ? for I have always asso- 
 ciated with education and talents at least the feelings and 
 character of a true lady. 
 
 Doubtless this "Countess" Madame Whyte* will yet 
 be heard of in New York, where "distinguished for- 
 eigners" are sought after with a perseverance and 
 homage quite in antagonism with the genius of republi- 
 cans. 
 
 The environs of Mobile are charming. Some of the 
 roads for a league west are lined with country houses 
 adorned with parterres ; and few houses are without the 
 greatest variety of shade trees. Orange trees abound; 
 but the live oak everywhere rears its majestic Alp of 
 foliage, casting beneath shade broad enough to shelter 
 froDi the sun a herd of cattle. This tree is always " a 
 picture" in the scenery — a study for the artist. It com- 
 bines the grandeur of the English oak with the grace of 
 the American elm. There are superb groups of them in 
 and about this city. They shade the lawns and give 
 dio-nity to the mansions that lift their roofs above them. 
 The drives to Spring Hill and the Bay Road are the 
 favorite avenues of the Mobileans. The former leads to 
 a fine elevation, two leagues from the city, and com- 
 manding a view of it and of the beautiful bay. It is 
 covered with the suburban retreats of the Mobile mer- 
 chants, whose families generally retire here for the 
 summer, if a northern tour does not tempt them. The 
 Bay Road is a delightful drive for four miles, with the 
 open bay on one side and villas and woodlands on the 
 other. We enjoyed both of these drives very much. 
 We constantly met or passed carriages, containing ladies 
 * Subsequently appeared as the Authoress of John Halifax. Ed. 
 
512 THE SITXNY SOTTTIi; OR, 
 
 without bonnots, find a1p<o saw fi groat number of eques- 
 trians ; for Southerners are more fond of the saddle than 
 a seat in a carriage. The beauty of the ladies is shown 
 to best advantage on an evening drive; and I must say, 
 that I have never seen so much true "Southern" loveli- 
 ness, of the sunny dark eye, oval face, golden brown 
 hair, and indescribably rich complexion, (rich without 
 color,) as here. 
 
 This city is deservedly celebrated for its beautiful 
 women, and especially the beauty of its girls under six- 
 teen. The men have made a favorable impression upon 
 me for intelligence and frank manner; and they dress 
 well, especially the middle-aged citizens — even better 
 than the young men. The ladies dress with the most 
 lavish expense, and yet with taste, never following a 
 fashion to its excess, but stopping within it; and this 
 good sense and taste is a fine trait in Southern women. 
 Many Northern ladies are apt to keep by the side of 
 Fashion, if not to get a step ahead of her. Wealth 
 without refinement always dresses as far as Fashion 
 dresses her lay-figure; but refined wealth stops this side 
 of the extreme. 
 
 I may write one more letter from this charming city, 
 and then we proceed northward. 
 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 513 
 
 LETTER LXVIII. 
 
 An Inn in Virginia, June, 1855. 
 
 My Dear Mr. : 
 
 This is written in an old fashioned country Inn, in 
 tlie heart of the Old Dominion, where we are sojourning 
 for a week. It is now ten days since we left the plea- 
 sant city of Mobile, which I shall always embalm in my 
 memory with the sweetest spices of affection, for the 
 kindness I received there from so many dear friends. 
 If I were disposed to be personal, I could make my letter 
 brilliant with the names of those esteemed people who 
 extended towards me the hospitable courtesies and grace- 
 ful amenities of which I was the unworthy object. My 
 husband is charmed with the place, and has half a mind 
 to live there during the winters, which I am told are de- 
 lightful. In Mobile I had the pleasure of seeing the 
 celebrated Dr. Nott, who, in conjunction with Mr. Cairo 
 Gliddon, has published a work to show that the arithmetic 
 of Moses was not creditable for a school boy. I hear 
 that the work has not overthrown the Bible, although 
 bigger than the Bible, and written almost by as many 
 men. It overshot itself, and from its very bulk and cost 
 will never be read, except by students — and what book 
 ever convinced a student? Learned men read books 
 only to be confirmed in what they previously believed 
 they knew. 
 
514 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 Dr. Nott very justly, for he is by no means an infidel, 
 repudiates the infidel portions of this book (" Types of 
 Mankind"); and says he is responsible only for the 
 scientifically anatomical and physiological contributions, 
 and complains that his confrere, Gliddon, surreptitiously 
 inserted, after the MS. had left his hands, into the body 
 of the work his own sceptical theories. But Dr. Nott, 
 like all persons found in suspicious company, unfortu- 
 nately has to suffer for his companionship. He is at the 
 head of the medical profession here ; a South Carolinian, 
 a man of fine intellect, agreeable manners, and with the 
 finished air of a thorough-bred and born gentleman, 
 I liked him very much the few moments I was in his 
 society. 
 
 We left Mobile for Montgomery at th"^ close of a 
 lovely day, and in forty-six hours, after a pleasant sail 
 up the romantic Alabama river, reached the stately capi- 
 tal of Alabama, Montgomery. It reminds me somewhat 
 of Albany, in its location and elevated aspect. On 
 board the boat was the venerable Bishop Cobbs, a large., 
 heavy man, and advanced in years, but with a face full 
 of the spirit of benevolence. He has all the simplicity 
 of a pure child, united with the dignity of a Christian 
 minister. He resides in this city, and was on his return 
 to his family, from whom he had been some time absent, 
 on his apostolic mission of "confirming the churches." 
 
 After a day agreeably spent in Montgomery, we took 
 the cars for Augusta, Georgia. Our ride was full of in- 
 terest. I was annoyed, the first hour or two after starting, 
 at having left hanging on a projection of the toilet stand, 
 in our room at the hotel, a valuable ring, which encircled 
 m£i,ny dej]^rest associations within its. golden periphery. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 515 
 
 My husband made the fact known to tlie conductor, who 
 pledged himself that, on his return to Montgomery, in 
 the next train, he would go to the hotel and get it, and 
 forward it to Washington city by mail. As he would be 
 back to the hotel in three or four hours, I consoled my- 
 self with all that was left me, hope, and now hope to find 
 it in Washington, when we reach there, on Monday ! 
 But I mistrust my hopes ; and that the large eyes of the 
 Ethiopian maid, who waited on me, have discovered the 
 jewelj ri.l that it last Sunday dazzled the eyes and won 
 the heart of some sable Csesar or Pompey ! What is 
 forgotten at hotels falls natural prizes into the hands of 
 the chambermaids, who begin their foray of discovery 
 about the room before the lady has reached the last stair 
 in her descr .t to the coach. 
 
 It is so provoking to leave (and, of course, lose) things 
 traveling. I never yet took a journey without such a 
 misfortune. It was either a book half read, and I dying 
 with interest to finish it — or a parasol, or a reticule, or 
 a glove, (and one can't easily replace gloves, traveling,) 
 or a veil, or a ring ! If all ladies leave and lose in the 
 sam.e way, lynx-eyed chambermaids in some hotels on 
 the great routes of travel can, in a year, obtain stock 
 enough to set up a magazin des varietes. I half-suspect 
 the minxes of misplacing, in order that travelers may 
 not see and so forget ; but yet so misplace, that if they 
 are searched or asked for, they may easily be found, and 
 all seem to be "accidental." 
 
 My husband quietly says : 
 
 " Kate, it is your fault ! You are careless, and don't 
 take proper care, I fear, of your things. Literary peo- 
 ple are proverbially indifferent [a great scandal] about 
 
516 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 mundane matters. If jou don't forget and lose Harry 
 on the way I shall be content. It would not be so easy 
 to have him mailed on to Washington as your ring, and, 
 touching said ring, wife, I am very well satisfied you 
 will never see it again." 
 
 " But the conductor pledged his word — and was so de- 
 sirous of serving me !" 
 
 " He may do Ids duty ! but the landlord may not take 
 the trouble to go to the room for it. You know some 
 landlords care little about guests a hundred miles away 
 on a railroad. If he ask the servant, she will simply 
 say, 'Lor', massa, I neber seed no ring in de room!' 
 and so the matter will end !" 
 
 "I hope it will be found!" I said, quite hopelessly; 
 and I yet hope it will, for it was the first ring given to 
 me by my husband ; and a woman values that gift above 
 all others. 
 
 The scenery increased in beauty as we flew on, and I 
 soon forgot my loss. As we entered Georgia, we saw 
 finer towns, richer agricultural districts, and more 
 mountainous scenery. We passed one mountain, like a 
 mighty pyramid, lifting its great head more than a thou- 
 sand feet above the level country, and visible for hours 
 before and after we passed it. The city of Augusta is 
 a handsome metropolis, with broad streets, a beautiful 
 river (the Savannah), fine churches, but hotels indijBfer- 
 ent. Every city should have a Tremont or Astor. These 
 hotels have rendered their like, necessities everywhere 
 else. Most of the hotels South, except in the large 
 cities, are overgrown inns or large taverns. Why, there 
 is as much difi'erence between a ''hotel" and a "tavern" 
 as between a "yacht" and a "fishing smack !" 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 517 
 
 We were pleased with Augusta, but made but a short 
 stay. Columbia is the paradise city of the South. 
 Here resides the distinguished novelist and poet, W. 
 Gilmore Simms, to whom we had letters, but unfortu- 
 nately he was absent. We regretted we could not pay 
 our respects to a man of genius, who has conferred such 
 distinction on the literature of the South, and of the 
 whole Republic. One has to unpack and repack to 
 stay in a place two or three days, and it is so much 
 trouble to "dress" for a day's sojourn, that one often 
 hurries forward, where it would be agreeable to lincrer 
 for a few days, as it would have been here. On 
 our way from Augusta we delayed a day to visit a 
 friend's rice plantation, and thence took the cars to 
 Charleston. 
 
 This is a city Southerners are very proud of, and with 
 good cause. But it is the people more than the houses 
 and "scenery" that makes Charleston so agreeable to 
 strangers. The Battery is a charming promenade, but 
 there are few handsome streets. 
 
 The residences have a respectable, substantial, home- 
 like air about them, and universally are buried in the 
 shade of tropical trees. The finest building is the 
 Military Academy, erected for training South Carolina 
 youth to the chivalrous accomplishment of arms. "Nul- 
 lification" is a word fast growing into disuse, as it 
 has ceased to have meaning. This State is as true to 
 the Confederacy as the brightest star in our Federal 
 standard. 
 
 The proposed superb monument to Mr, Calhoun (the 
 Demosthenes of the New World) is not yet erected! 
 Much as cotemporarics admire a mighty genius risin"" 
 
518 THE SUNNY SOUTH: OR, 
 
 and culminating Avitliin tlieir own horizon, they are never 
 the people who raise the noblest mementoes to him ! It 
 is tlio succeeding generation which is the true echo of a 
 great man's fame. Fifty years hence, Webster, Clay, 
 Calhoun, will be more honored than they now are, and 
 that age will erect to them the colossal plinths which 
 the men of their own day neglect. Centuries after Crom- 
 well and Joan d'Arc lived, even at this day, magnificent 
 statues are erected to their fame. 
 
 As the glories that surround the heads of the noble 
 Triumviri, "Calhoun, Webster, and Clay," increase in 
 splendor with time, the higher and grander will rise the 
 monuments that men will build up of stone and marble, 
 to their mighty names I Whatever South Carolina does 
 now in honor of her idol, the whole Kepublic will later 
 do more nobly as a national tribute to his intellectual 
 greatness ; and what our mighty Inter-oceanic Republic 
 will do, will later still be done by the whole civilized 
 world! for the glory of the names of these three men, 
 like those of Cicero, Demosthenes, and Calus Csesar, 
 shall be claimed as the common heritage of the round 
 earth ; and in Paris, London, Naples, Vienna, St. Peters- 
 burg, and Constantinople, statues and monuments shall 
 likewise be erected to them; for godlike genius like theirs 
 has no country, no other bounds than those of the globe's 
 circumference. 
 
 We left Charleston with regret, after a day's sojourn, 
 and part of which was spent in a visit to Sullivan's 
 Island, an hour's sail down the harbor. This is a 
 charming spot for air and bathing and beach-galloping, 
 but its "grass" is sand. Several cultivated families 
 pass the summer here, and the hotel is a fine structure ; 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 519 
 
 it looks like a theatre turned inside out, with the gal- 
 leries running all round its exterior. Commander In- 
 graham's family reside here. I felt like paying my 
 respects to a man who has contributed abroad so much 
 honor to our national name ; but I let propriety subdue 
 curiosity, and only satisjfied myself with passing his 
 house, hoping to get a glimpse of the " great man of his 
 day." 
 
 The young and rich South Carolinians have a peculiar 
 manner. They move about quietly, are self-possessed, 
 silent or rather taciturn, love to sit and read, are well 
 educated, polished in behavior, dress well, cultivate the 
 moustache, affect small feet and white hands, and are 
 somewhat dilettanti, but yet manly and well-informed; 
 are lovers of the poets, have fine libraries, faultless 
 riding horses and equipage, wear wide-awake hats, and 
 love indolence and ease. Most of them have seen 
 Europe, but prefer South Carolina ! They are proud and 
 aristocratic, and do not feel particularly honored to shake 
 hands with a traveling lord, and in England are haughtier 
 than England's nobles. 
 
 They are expert fencers, superb billiard-players, 
 splendid riders when their indolence will let them put 
 their blooded horses to their full flight ; fond of hunting, 
 unerring with the rifle, have practiced with the duelling 
 pistol, and have knowledge of military matters ! Under 
 all their calm and indolent exterior, lies all the fire 
 and energy of their prototype, Calhoun; and to insult 
 them is infinitely perilous, though they never seek a 
 quarrel. I think they are the most finished gentlemen 
 (when they reach middle life) in the world ! My husband 
 
520 THE SUNNY south; or, 
 
 says he will write for me (perhaps) a description of the 
 ladies. 
 
 We leave this Inn direct for Washington! Shall I 
 find my ring there ? 
 
 Yours, 
 Kate. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 521 
 
 My Dear Mr. 
 
 LETTER LXIX. 
 
 Washington City. 
 
 My last letter was dated from " an old Inn" in Vir- 
 ginia. Since then we have come on to this city of 
 "magnificent edifices;" for the old "magnificent dis- 
 tances" are superbly filled up with noble buildings. 
 
 I must say a word about that old Virginia Inn. It 
 was the most comfortable "home," not to be in one's 
 own, I ever dwelt in. It stood in a broad, green valley, 
 many miles long, and from the Inn the country gently 
 sloped to circumenclosing hills, wooded all over with 
 massive masses of green forest. The vale itself was a 
 valley of farms, large, and wealthy-looking, with hos- 
 pitable-appearing farm-houses in the bosom of each, and 
 each with its park of woodland ; and the stage road to 
 the Sulphur Springs, (the "Saratoga" of southern aris- 
 tocracy) of a light broTvn color, and smooth as a race 
 course, wound meanderingly through its bosom. 
 
 The Inn stood in the centre of this agricultural scene. 
 It was a large, rambling, old Virginia mansion house, and 
 once belonged to a family of the old regime, one of the 
 proverbial (and in this case truly so) " FIRST FAMI- 
 LIES" of Virginia. The original proprietor was a 
 cavalier of Charles the Second, and was a large land- 
 holder under the crown. But the revolution, which de- 
 
522 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 strojed tlic stately law of primogeniture, divided and 
 subdivided among half a dozen equal heirs his regal do- 
 mains, until within the present generation, the once no- 
 ble estate, diminished to two hundred acres and a hand- 
 ful of slaves, and the lands worn out, came into the hands 
 of the long baronial line of the Bodleys. The gentle- 
 man inheriting, finding his harvest would not maintain 
 the estate, and that money must be realized in some way 
 from his patrimony, had the good sense (refined and edu- 
 cated a Virginian as he is) to convert his paternal man- 
 sion into an "Inn." Situated on the great road of 
 travel, and ofi'ering from its imposing exterior, (ancient 
 yet respectable,) temptations to the comfort-loving traveler, 
 it soon became the aristocratic resort of touring Virgin- 
 ians, and the excellent proprietor (the descendant of a 
 lord become a lamdlord) has become independent. 
 
 Happy would many a Virginia gentleman of the "first 
 families" be, if he could turn his decaying mansion into 
 an Inn of profit ! Numerous, very, are the old estates 
 gone to decay, scattered over the Old Dominion, w^herein 
 genteel poverty dwells, with the prideful recollections of 
 ancestral name and honors. The improvident manner 
 in which the old Virginia proprietors wasted their lands 
 with the soil-consuming tobacco, has impoverished half 
 of their descendants. The present proprietors, unable 
 to maintain their aristocratic estate, part one after an- 
 other with their family servants, whose price goes to 
 maintain what the wretched crops ought to do, or they 
 leave their barren heritages, and with their servants seek 
 the West or South, and there buying new land at gov- 
 ernment price, build up a new, young "Virginia family" 
 in Texas, Alabama, or Mississippi. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 523 
 
 So necessary is the annual decimation of slaves by 
 sale to support these old decayed families, that it has be- 
 come a settled trade for men whose occupation is to buy 
 slaves, to travel through the " Old Dominion," from es- 
 tate to estate, to purchase the negroes that the necessi- 
 ties of these genteel families (who have nothing left of 
 their ancestral glory, but the old mansion, half in ruins, 
 and the wide, barren fields scarcely yielding bread) 
 compel them to dispose of, whenever opportunity of- 
 fers. The slave-buyer is seldom disappointed, however 
 grand the exterior of the baronial looking house to 
 w^hich he rides up. Here he gets one, there another, 
 and in a few weeks he enters Lynchburg, Alexandria, or 
 Richmond with a hundred or more, whom the necessities 
 of the first families have compelled to be sold. Hun- 
 dreds of such buyers are ever traversing the state, and 
 the markets of the South and West are almost wholly 
 supplied with slaves, through the res angusta domi, in 
 the Old Dominion. 
 
 From this view of the facts (and facts they certainly 
 are), it would appear that Virginia is gradually coming 
 to free farming and the slow abandonment of slave cul- 
 tivature. As it is, slaves are raised here more as a 
 marketable and money-returning commodity than for 
 their productive labor. 
 
 It is one of the most beautiful states in the Union. 
 Its citizens, with truth, boast a nobler ancestry from 
 England's halls, than any other ! Its character for in- 
 telligence, genius, hospitality, and refinement, is not sur- 
 passed anywhere. A Virginia gentleman (poor, and 
 living on starved lands though he may be) is the gentle- 
 man of the age ! Washington, her son, has, for ever- 
 
524 THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR, 
 
 more, ennobled lier as tlie birth-place of heroes. She 
 has given to the Republic the majority of her presidents ! 
 and to the National Legislative halls, the noblest minds 
 of our race. The grand scenery of her valleys, moun- 
 tains, forests, and smiling fields, the diversity of her 
 climate, the noble character of her citizens, ought to 
 make her "the Paradise of America," as Sir Walter 
 Raleigh called it, and therefore named it, in honor of his 
 worshipful "Eve," (Queen Bess,) Virginia! 
 
 Our Inn is worthy of having for its host a descendant 
 of the chivalrous Borderleighs, (now modernized in spell- 
 ing to Bodleys,) one of the old North of England nobles. 
 He loses none of his Virginia stateliness or self-respect 
 in playing Boniface. He retains his self-respect and is 
 therefore still a gentleman ; and we feel that he is one. 
 His vast parlor is hung round with old portraits of his 
 Virginia and British ancestors. The bed-rooms look so 
 respectable with their black oak and carved furniture, 
 the panneled wainscotting, old-fashioned testers, and oval 
 mirrors, that one seems to be carried back into the days 
 of William and Mary. Some of the furniture is two hun- 
 dred years old, and was brought over to Jamestown from 
 England. A beaufet is in the dining room, curiously 
 shaped and carved, which belonged to Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 he who sacrificed a cloak, hoping to get a crown. Queen 
 Bess was a terrible flirt ! She had more joy in tyrann- 
 nizing over the noble hearts of the brave men about her, 
 than in reigning over her realm of England. 
 
 There is a portrait of her all begrimed with smoke, in 
 the sitting room, which our courteous and high born host 
 says, once belonged to the ancient Claiborne or Clayborn 
 family, a race of statesmen and soldiers. 
 
THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 525 
 
 From the Inn one has a delightful prospect of fields, 
 woods, intervales, mountains, and a shining river. A 
 broad lawn is before the house, across which is a smooth, 
 half-moon shaped road, along which the stage-coach 
 dashes up to the door. 
 
 Such a table as one has here ! Never were travelers so 
 banqueted. At breakfast, coffee and cream like liquid 
 gold ; six kinds of bread, each hot, as bread always is in 
 the South, and all delicious with butter rich as honey ; 
 amber-colored honey also, with a fragrance as if gathered 
 from the flowers that bloom on Hymettus ! Then steaks, 
 so juicy and flavorable ; broiled chickens just delicately 
 crisped and more delicately buttered ; fresh fish from a 
 pond, nicely browned to a turn; ham the tint of a blood 
 peach ; sliced bread and butter, and I know not what 
 other delicacies. Our dinners are unapproachable by 
 any city ''Astor;" and for tea such sweetmeats, such 
 blackberries and cream, such delicious bread! — but you 
 will think I am an epicure truly if I go on. Suffice it 
 to say that we remained there a week (for my husband 
 is a quiet epicure in his way), and took stage for a town 
 where we could strike the railroad. 
 
 We flew through Petersburg, paused to breathe in 
 Richmond, which has flowing at its side a wild, rock- 
 filled river of a hundred rapids, which we crossed at a 
 dizzy height, looking down upon it from the car windows 
 with that thrill of the nerves which gazing from a great 
 height irresistibly causes. 
 
 "We ascended the Potomac and passed Mount Vernon. 
 I was previously told 'that when we came opposite to it, 
 the bell of the boat would be struck thirteen times, not 
 only in homage to the Great Deliverer of the "Thirteen 
 
526 THE SUNNY SOUTH. 
 
 Republics," but also to notify passengers when the boat 
 came near the political Mecca of Americans. But no 
 bell sounded — no notice was taken by the steamer of 
 the spot, which no British war-ship passes without 
 lowering its colors and firing a salute. We Americans 
 seem to be destitute of all suggestive imagination and 
 reverential associations. 
 
 We shall remain in the Capital a few days, and thence 
 hasten to New York to hit the steamer; for we reside 
 the next two years abroad. This is the last Needle, 
 
 therefore, you will receive from me, Mr. , and which 
 
 must terminate forever our correspondence. The request 
 of so many of my friends I feel must be cheerfully com- 
 plied with; and while in Philadelphia, I shall make (if 
 possible) arrangements with a publisher, to issue my poor 
 writings in one or two volumes under the title of 
 
 "THE SUNNY SOUTH: 
 
 By Kate Conyngham." 
 
 Farewell. 
 
BOOKS 
 
 Published by G. G. Evans, 
 
 439 Chestnut St., Philadelphia. 
 
 T. S. ARTHUR'S WORKS. 
 
 The following Books are by T. S. Arthur, the well-known author, of whom 
 it has been said, "that dying, he has not written a word he would wish to 
 erasb." They are worthy of a place in every household. 
 
 ARTHUR'S SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 Boyal 12mo. vol. of over 400 pages, beautifully Illustrated, and 
 bound in the best English muslin, gilt. Price $1.25. 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF REAL LIFE. 
 
 With an Autobiography and Portrait of the Author. Over 500 
 pages. Royal 12rao.,fme tinted Engravings. Price $1.25. 
 
 TEN NIGHTS IN A BxA.R-ROOM, and what I saw there. 
 
 This powerfully-written work, one of the best by its popular 
 AUTHOR, has met with an immense sale. It is a large 1 2mo., 
 illustrated with a beautiful Mezzotint Engraving, by Sartain; 
 printed on fme white paper, and bound in the best English 
 muslin, gilt back. Price, $1.00. 
 
 GOLDEN GRAINS FROM LIFE'S HARVEST-FIELD. 
 
 Bound in gilt back and sides, cloth, with a beautiful Mezzotint 
 engraving. i2mo. Price $1.00. 
 
 WHAT CAN WOMAN DO. 
 
 l2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00. 
 
 « Our purpose is to show, in a series of Life Pictures, what woman can do, 
 afl veil for good aa for evil." 
 
 ANGEL OF THE HOUSEHOLD, and other tales. 
 
 Cloth, izmov., with Mezzotint engraving. Price $1.00, 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUM.ISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 ARTHUR'S HOME LIBRARY. 
 
 [The following four volumes contain nearly 500 pages each, and are illos* 
 trated with fine Mezzotint engravings. Bound in the best manner, and 
 gold separately or in seta. They have been introduced into the District, 
 Sabbath School, and other Libraries, and are considered on© of the best 
 series of the Author.] 
 
 THREE ERAS IN WOMAN'S LIFE. 
 
 Containing Maiden, Wife and Mother. Cloth, I zmo., with Mez- 
 zotint engraving. Price, $i.oo. 
 " This, by many, is considered Mr. Arthur's best work." 
 
 TALES OF MARRIED LIFE. 
 
 Containing Lovers and Husbands, Sweethearts and Wives, and 
 
 Married and Single. Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint engraving. 
 
 Price $i.oo. 
 
 " In this volume maybe found some valuable hints for wives and hus- 
 bands, as well as for the young." 
 
 TALES OF REAL LIFE. 
 
 Containing Bell Martin, Pride and Principle, Mary Ellis, Family 
 
 Pride and Alice Melville. Cloth, i2mo., with Mezzotint 
 
 engraving. Price $i,oo. 
 
 " This volume gives the experience of real life by many who found not 
 their ideal." 
 
 THE MARTYR WIFE. 
 
 Containing Madeline, the Heiress, The Martyr Wife and Ruined 
 Gamester. Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving. $i.oo 
 "Contains several sketches of thrilling interest." 
 
 THE ANGEL AND THE DEMON. 
 
 A Book of Startling Interest. A handsome izmo volume, $i.oo. 
 
 " In this exciting s*,ory, Mr. Arthur has taken hold of the reader's attention 
 with a more than usually vigorous grasp, and keeps him absorbed to the end 
 of the volum e." 
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER, 
 And other tales. Cloth, i zmo., with engraving. Price $i.oa, 
 
 TRUE RICHES; or WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS, 
 
 And other Tales, Cloth, izmo., with Mezzotint engraving. 
 Prif.e, 1 1. GO. 
 
Lirr OP BOOKS published by G. G. EVANS. 
 
 THE YOUNG LADY AT HOME. 
 
 A Series of Home Stories for American Women. i2mo. $i.oo 
 TRIALS AND CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 With 14 Spirited Illustrations. i2mo., cloth. Price |i.oo. 
 
 The range of subjects in this book embrace the grave and instructive, M 
 W*L as the agreeable and amusing. No Lady reader familiar with the tnali 
 and perplexities incident to Housekeeping-, can fail to recognize many of her 
 own experiences, for every picture here presented has been drawn from life, 
 
 THE WITHERED HEART. 
 
 With fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. i2mo.. Cloth. Price |i.oo. 
 This work has gone through several editions in England, although pub- 
 lished but a short time, and has had the most flattering notices from the 
 English Press. 
 
 STEPS TOWARD HEAVEN. 
 A Series of Lay Sermons for Converts in the Great Awakening. 
 1 2mo., cloth. Price $ i . 00. 
 
 THE HAND BUT NOT THE HEART; 
 Or, Life Trials of Jessie Loring. i2mo., cloth. Price, $1.00. 
 
 THE GOOD TIME COMING. 
 Large i2mo., with fine Mezzotint Frontispiece. Price, ti. 00. 
 
 LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF HUMAN LIFE. 
 Large i2mo. With 30 illustrations and steel plate. Price $1.00. 
 « It includes some of the best humorous sketches of the author." 
 
 HEART HISTORIES AND LIFE PICTURES. 
 
 izmo Cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 '•'In the preparation of this volume, we have «ndeavored to stow, th»t 
 whatever teSds to awaken our sympathies towards others, xs an individual 
 benefit as well as a common good." 
 
 SPARING TO SPEND ; or, the Loftons and Pinkertons 
 
 i2mo., cloth. Price |i.oo. 
 
 The purpose of this volume is to exhibit the evilfl that flow torn *e to« 
 eommon lack of prudence. 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED- BY O. G. EVANS, 
 
 HOME SCENES. 
 
 I2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 This Book is designed to aid in the work of overcoming what is evil and 
 ■elfish, that home lights may dispel home shadows. 
 
 THE OLD MAN'S BRIDE. 
 
 I2mo. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 This is a powerfully written Book, showing the folly of unequal marriages. 
 
 ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES ON THEIR DUTIES AND 
 CONDUCT IN LIFE. 
 
 By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition, izmo., 
 cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 
 
 ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN ON VARIOUS IMPORTANT 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 By T. S. Arthur. A new and greatly enlarged edition. 1 2mo., 
 cloth. Steel plate. Price $i.oo. 
 
 TWENTY YEARS AGO AND NOW. 
 By T. S. Arthur, izmo., cloth, mezzotint engraving. Price 
 $i.oo 
 
 BIOGRAPHIES. 
 
 LIFE AND EXPLORATIONS OF DR. E. K. KANE, 
 And other Distinguished American Explorers. Including Ledyardy 
 Wilkes, Perry, &c. Containing narratives of their researches 
 and adventures in remote and interesting portions of the Globe. 
 By Samuel M. Smucker, LL.D. With a fine Mezzotint Por- 
 trait of Dr. Kane, in his Arctic costume. Price $l.oo. 
 
 THE LIFE AND REIGN OF NICHOLAS L, 
 
 Emperor of Russia. With descriptions of Russian Society and 
 Government, and a full and complete History of the War in 
 the East. Also, Sketches of Schamyl, the Circassian, an- other 
 Distinguished Characters. ByS. M. Smucjcer, LL.D. Beautifully 
 Illustrated. Over 400 pages, large izmo. Price $1.25. 
 
 THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE LIFE OF DAN'L WEBSTER, 
 Bv Gen. S. P. Lyman, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 .> 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 THE MASTER SPIRIT OF THE AGE. 
 
 THE PUBLIC AND PRIVATE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON 
 
 THE THIRD. 
 
 With Biographical Notices of his most Distinguished Ministers, 
 Generals and Favorites. By S. M. Smucker, LL.D. This in- 
 teresting and valuable work is embellished with splendid steel 
 plates, done by Sartain in his best style, including the Emperor, 
 the Empress, Queen Hortense, and the Countess CastigHone. 
 400 pages, izmo. Price $1.25. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF ROBERT HOUDIN, 
 
 The celebrated French Conjuror. Translated from the French. 
 With a copious Index. By Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie. This 
 book is full of interesting and entertaining anecdotes of the great 
 Wizard, and gives descriptions of the manner of performing 
 many of his most curious tricks and transformations, izmo., 
 cloth. Price ^i.oo. 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 Written by himself, with Notes and Additions. Splendidly illus- 
 trated with engravings, from original designs. By George G 
 White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 Including an account of the Early Settlements of Kentucky. By 
 Cecil B. Hartley. With splendid illustrations, from original 
 drawings by George G. White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF LEWIS WETZEL. 
 Together with Biographical Sketches of Simon Kenton, Benjamin 
 Logan, Samuel Brady, Isaac Shelby, and other distinguished 
 Warriors and Hunters of the West. By Cecil B. Hartley. 
 With splendid illustrations, from original drawings by George 
 G. White, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 UFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL FRANCIS MARION, 
 
 The Hero of the American Revolution ; giving full accounts oi 
 
 his many perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes amongst 
 
 the British and Tories in the Southern States, during the struggle 
 
 for liberty. By W. Gilmore Simms. izmo., cloth. $1.00. 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 UFE OF GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON, 
 
 The Hunter, Patriot, and Statesman of Texas. With nine illuj- 
 trations. izmo,, cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 LIVES OF GENERAL HENRY LEE AND GENERAL 
 THOMAS SUMPTER. 
 
 Comprising a History of the War in the Southern Department of 
 the United States. Illustrated, i2mo, cloth. Si.oo. 
 
 DARING & HEROIC DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 
 
 Comprising Thrilling Examples of Courage, Fortitude, Devoted- 
 ness, and Self-Sacrifice, among the Pioneer Mothers of the 
 Western Country. By John Frost, LL.D. Price $i.oo. 
 
 LIVES OF FEMALE MORMONS. 
 
 A Narrative of facts Stranger than Fiction. By Metta Victoria 
 Fuller. i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS WOMEN OF ALL AGES. 
 
 Containing tne Empress Josephine, Lady Jane Gray, Bea'iricc 
 Cenci, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Charlotte Corday, Zenobia, 
 &c., &c. Embellished with Fine Steel Portraits. i2mo., cloth. 
 Price $i.oo. 
 
 THE LIVES AND EXPLOITS OF THE MOST NOTED 
 BUCCANEERS & PIRATES OF ALL COUNTRIES. 
 
 Handsomely illustrated, i vol. Cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 HIGHWAYMEN, ROBBERS AND BANDITTI OF ALL 
 
 COUNTRIES. 
 
 With Colored and other Engravings. Handsomely bound in one 
 volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 HEROES AND PATRIOTS OF THE SOUTH; 
 
 Comprising Lives of General Francis Marion, General William 
 Moultrie, General Andrew Pickens, and Governor John 
 Rutledge. By Cecil B. Hartley. Illustrated, i2mo., cloth. 
 Price 1 1. CO. 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 KIT CARSON. 
 
 Life of Christopher Carson, the celebrated Rocky Mountain 
 Huntei, Trapper and Guide, with a full description of his 
 Hunting Exploits, Hair-breadth Escapes, and adventures with 
 the Indians ; together with his services rendered the United 
 States Government, as Guide to the various Exploring Expedi- 
 tions under Jjhn C. Fremont and others. By Charles Burdett. 
 With six illustrations. i2mo., cloth. Price ^i.oo. 
 
 THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of " The Life of Thomas 
 JefFerson," *' Life of Alexander Hamilton," etc., etc. i2mo., 
 cloth, with Steel Portrait. Price $1.00. 
 
 THE LIFE AND TIMES OF HENRY CLAY. 
 
 By S. M. Smucker, LL.D., author of the "Lives of Washington," 
 "JefFerson," etc. i2mo., cloth. Steel Portrait. Price $1.00. 
 
 LIFE OF ANDREW JACKSON. 
 
 Containing an Authentic History of the Memorable Achievements 
 of the American Army under General Jackson, before New 
 Orleans. By Alexander Walker, izmo., cloth. Price Si. 00. 
 
 LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 By O. L. Holley. With Steel Portrait and six Illustrations. 
 
 izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 LIVES OF THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION OF 
 AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 By B. J. LossiNG. Steel Frontispiece, and fifty portraits. izmo., 
 cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 LIFE OF CAPT. JOHN SMITH OF VIRGINIA. 
 By W. Gillmore Simm3. Illustrated, izmo., cloth. Price, $1 00 
 
 THE THREE MRS. JUDSONS, 
 
 The Female Missionaries. By Cecil B. Hartley. A new and 
 carefully revised edition, with steel portraits, i znio. Price, 
 $1 00. 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBL.,SHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 INGRAHAM'S THREE GREAT WORKS. 
 
 THE 
 
 Prince of the House of David; 
 
 Ur, Three Years in the Holy City. Being a series of the let- 
 ters of Adina, a Jewess of Alexandria, supposed to be sojourning 
 in Jerusalem in the days ol" Herod, addressed to her Father a 
 wealthy Jew in Egypt, and relating, as if by an eye-witness, all 
 the scenes and wonderful incidents in the life of Jejus of Naz- 
 areth, from his Baptism in Jordan to his Crucifixion on Calvary 
 New edition, carefully revised and corrected by the author. 
 Rev. J. H. lN<;RAHArvi, LL D., Rector of Christ Church, and 
 St. Thomas' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss. With five splendid 
 illustrations, one large izmo., volume, cloth. Price, $i 25. 
 Full Gilt sides and edges Price $2.00. 
 
 The same work in German. izmo., cloth. Price, $1.25. 
 
 THE PILLAR OF FIRE; 
 
 Or, Israel in Bondage. Being an account of the Wonderful 
 Scenes in the Life of the Son of Pharaoh's Daughter, (Moses). 
 Together with Picturesque Sketches of the Hebrews under their 
 Task-masters. By Rev. ). H. Ingraham, LL D , author of the 
 " Prince of the House of David." With steel Frontispiece. 
 Large izmo., cloth. Price, $1 25; the same work, full gilt 
 sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 
 
 THE THRONE OF DAVID; 
 
 -om the Consecration of the Shepherd of Bethlehem, to the Re- 
 bellion of Prince Absalom Being an illustration of the Splendor, 
 Power and Dominion of the Reign of the Shepherd, Poet, 
 Warrior, King and Prophet, Ancestor and type of Jesus, address- 
 ed by an Assyrian Ambassador, resident at the Court of Jeru- 
 salem, to his Lord and King on the Throne of Nineveh; where- 
 in the magnificence of Assyria, as well as the magnificence of 
 Judea, is presented to the reader as by an eye-witness. By the 
 Rev. J. H. Ingraham, LL.D., Rector of Christ Church and 
 St. Thomris' Hall, Holly Springs, Miss., author of the "Prince 
 of the House of David" and the *' Pillar of Fire." With five 
 splendid illustrations. Large i2mo., cloth. Price $1 Z'-^ ; the 
 same work, full gilt sides and edges. Price, $2 00. 
 
 r 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 The Sunny South ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SOUTHERNER AT HOME. 
 
 EMBRACING 
 
 Five years' experience of a Northern Governess in the Land of the 
 Sugar and the Cotton. Edited by Professor J. H. Ingraham, 
 of Miss. Large izmo., cloth. Price, $i 25. 
 
 A BUDGET OF 
 
 HUMOROUS POETRY, 
 
 COMPRISING 
 
 Specimens of the best and most Humorous Productions of the 
 popular American and Foreign Poetical Writers of the day. 
 By the author of the ** Book of Anecdotes and Budget of 
 Fun." One volume, izmo., cloth Price $1 00. 
 
 The World in a Pocket Book. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM H. CRUMP. 
 
 NEW AND REVISED EDITION, BROUGHT DOWN TO 
 
 i860. 
 
 This work is a Compendium of Useful Knowledge and General 
 Reference, dedicated to the Manufacturer?, Farmers, Merchants, 
 and Mechanics of the United States — to all, in short, with whom 
 time is money — and whose business avoca'ions render the acqui- 
 sition of extensive and diversified information desirable, by the 
 shortest possible road. This volume, it is hoped, will be found 
 worthy of a place in every household — in every family. It 
 may indeed be termed a library in itself Large izmo. Price, 
 ^1 2 :; . 
 
JO LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 THE SPIRIT LAND. 
 i2mo., cloth, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00, 
 
 " These pages are submitted to the public with the counsel of the wii«ct 
 •nd best of all ages, that amid the wiley arts of the Adversary, we should cling 
 to the word of God, the Bible, as the only safe and infallible guide of Faith 
 and Practice." 
 
 THE MORNING STAR ; or. Symbols of Christ. 
 
 By Re\ Wm. M. Thayer, author of " Hints for the Household," 
 " Pastor's Holiday Gift,"&c., &c. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00 
 
 " The symbolical parts of Scriptures are invested with peculiar attractions. 
 A familiar acquaintance with them can scarcely fail to increase respect and 
 love for the Bible." 
 
 SWEET HOME; or. Friendship's Golden Altar. 
 
 By Frances C. Percival. Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., cloth, 
 gilt back and centre. Price $1.00. 
 
 "The object of this book is to awaken the Memories of Home — to remind 
 as of the old Scenes and old Times." 
 
 THE DESERTED FAMILY ; 
 
 Or, the Wanderings of an Outcast. By Paul Creyton. i zmo., 
 cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 " An interesting story, which might exert a good influence in softening th9 
 heart, warming the affections, and elevating the soul." 
 
 ANNA CLAYTON; or, the Mother's Trial 
 A Tale of Real Life. izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 " The principal characters in this tale are drawn from real life — imagina- 
 ^on cannot picture deeper shades of sadness, higher or more exquisite joys, 
 than Truth has woven for us, in the Mother's Trial." 
 
 " FASHIONABLE DISSIPATION." 
 
 B) Metta V. Fuller. Mezzotint Frontispiece, izmo., bound in 
 cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 THE OLD FARM HOUSE. 
 
 By Mrs. Caroline H. Butler Laing, with b'lx splendid Illustra- 
 tions, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
LIST OP BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 1 1 
 
 « TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE." 
 
 WOMAN AND HER DISEASES. 
 
 From the Cradle to the Grave ; adapted exclusively to her instruc- 
 cion in the Physiology of her system, and all the Diseases of her 
 Critical Periods. By Edward H. Dixon, M.D. i2mo. Price 
 $i.oo. 
 
 DR. LIVINGSTONE'S TRAVELS AND RESEARCHES 
 OF SIXTEEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH 
 AFRICA. 
 
 One volume, izmo., cloth, fine edition, printed upon superior 
 paper, with numerous illustrations. Price $1.25. Cheap edi- 
 tion, price $1.00. 
 
 This is a work of thrilling adrentures and hair-breadth escapes among 
 savage beasts, and more savage men. Dr. Livingstone was alone, and unaid- 
 ed by any white man, traveling only with African attendants, among different 
 tribes and nations, all strange to him, and many of them hostile, and alto- 
 gether forming the most astonishing book of travels the world has ever 
 seen. All acknowledge it is the most readable book published. 
 
 ANDERSSON'S EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES. 
 
 Giving accounts of many Pf"'*''ous Adventures, and Thrilling Inci- 
 dents, during Four Years' Wanderings in the Wilds of South 
 Western Africa. By C. J. Andersson, LL.D., F.R.S. With 
 an Introductory Letter, by J. C. Fremont. One volume, izmo., 
 cloth. With Numerous Illustrations. Price, $1.25. 
 
 INDIA AND THE INDIAN MUTINY. 
 
 Comprising a Complete History of Hindoostan, from the earliest 
 times to the present day, with full particulars of the Recent 
 Mutiny in India. Illustrated with numerous engravings. By 
 Henry Frederick Malcom. Large izmo., volume of about 
 450 pages. Price, $1.25. 
 
 THE UNION TEXT BOOK. 
 Containing Selections from the Writings and Speeches of 
 Daniel Webster. The .Declaration of Independence, the 
 Constitution of the United States, Washington's Farewell Ad- 
 dress, &:c., with Steel Portrait. Large i2mo., fJ04 pages. Cloth. 
 Price, $1.00. 
 
12 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 SEVEN YEARS IN THE WILDS OF SIBERIA, 
 
 A Narrative of Seven Years' Explorations and Adventures in 
 Oriental and Western Siberia, Mongolia, the Kir his Steppes, 
 Chinese Tartary, and Part of Central Asia. By Thomas 
 William Atkinson. With numerous Illustrations, i zmo., clcth, 
 price $1.25, 
 
 SIX YEARS IN NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA. 
 
 Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa, being a 
 Journal of an Expedition undertaken undei the auspices of 
 H. B. M.'s Government, in the years 1 849-1 855. By Henry 
 Barth, Ph. D., D.C.L., Fellow of the Royal Geographical and 
 Asiatic Societies, &c., &c. i2mo., cloth, price $1.25. 
 
 THREE VISITS TO MADAGASCAR 
 
 During the years 1853, 1854, 1856, including a journey to the 
 Capital ; with notices of the Natural History of the Country 
 and of the present Civilization of the People, by the Rev. Wm. 
 Ellis, F.H.S., author of "Polynesian Researches." Illustrated 
 by engravings from photographs, &c. i2mo., cloth. $1.25. 
 
 CAPT. COOK'S VOYAGES ROUND THE WORLD. 
 One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 BOOK OF ANECDOTES AND BUDGET OF FUN. 
 
 Containing a collection of over One Thousand Laughable Sayings, 
 Rich Jokes, etc. i2mo., cloth, extra gilt back, $1.00. 
 
 " Nothing is so well calculated to preserve the healthful action of th« 
 human system as a good hearty laugh." 
 
 BOOK OF PLAYS FOR HOME AMUSEMENT. 
 
 Being 2 collection of Original, Altered and well-selected Tragedies, 
 Comedies, Dramas, Farces, Burlesques, Charades, Comic Lec- 
 tures, etc. Carefully arranged and specially adapted for Private 
 Representation, with full directions for Performance. By Silas 
 S. Steele, Dramatist. One volume, i 2mo., cloth. Price $1 .00, 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 13 
 
 A HISTORY OF ITALY, 
 
 AND THE WAR OF 1859. 
 
 Giving the causes of the War, with Biographical Sketches of Sov- 
 eieigns. Statesmen and Military Commanders; Descriptions and 
 Statistics of the Country ; with finely engraved Portraits of Loui» 
 Napoleon, Emperor of France Frances Joseph, Emperor of 
 Austria ; Victor Emanuel, King of Sardinia, and Garribaldi, the 
 Champion of Italian Freedom. Together with the official ac- 
 counts of the Battles of Montebello, Palestro, Magenta, Maleg- 
 nano, Solferino, etc., etc., and Maps of Italy, Austria, and all 
 the adjacent Countries, by 
 
 MADAME JULIE DE MARGUERITTES. 
 
 With an introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, one volume, 
 i2mo., cloth, price $1.25. 
 
 NOBLE DEEDS OF THE GREAT AND BRAVE OF ALL 
 AGES AND NATIONS. 
 
 Selected as examples for the emulation of Youth, with numerous 
 Illustrations, izmo.. Cloth, Gilt Back. Price, ^i.oo. 
 
 THE BOOK OF POPULAR SONGS. 
 
 Being a compendium of the best Sentimental, Comic, Negro, Nation- 
 al, Patriotic, Military, Naval, Social, Convivial, and Pathetic 
 Ballads and Melodies, as sung by the most celebrated Opeia 
 Singers, Negro Minstrels, and Comic VocaUsts of the day. 
 
 One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 THE AMERICAN PRACTICAL COOKERY BOOK ; 
 
 Or Housekeeping made easy, pleasant, and econmical in all its 
 departments. To which are added directions for setting out 
 Tables, and giving Entertainments. Directions for Jointing, 
 Trussing, and Carving, and many hundred new Receipts in 
 Cookery and Housekeeping. With 50 engravings, i zjiio., 
 cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
l^ LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 RECORDS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 
 
 Containing the Military and Financial Correspondence of distin- 
 guished officers; names of the officers and privates of regiments, 
 companies and corps, with the dates of their commissions and 
 enlistments. General orders of Washington, Lee, and Green ; 
 with a list of distinguished prisoners of war ; the time of their 
 capture, exchange, etc.; to which is added the half-pay acts of 
 the Continental Congress ; the Revolutionary pension laws ; and 
 a list of the officers of the Continental army who acquired tha 
 right to half-pay, commutation, and lands, &c. By T. W. Saf- 
 FELL. Large i2mo., $1.25. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 being a history of the personal adventures, romantic incidents and 
 exploits incidental to the War of Independence — with tinted 
 illustrations. Large i2mo., $1.25. 
 
 THE QUEEN'S FATE. 
 
 A talc of the days of Herod. i2mo., cloth, with Steel Illustra- 
 tions. $1.00. 
 
 "A recital of events, of an awe-arousing period, in a familiar and interest- 
 ing manner." 
 
 « LIVING AND LOVING." 
 
 A collection of Sketches. By Miss Virginia F. Townsend. — 
 Large i2mo., with fine steel portrait of the author. Bound in 
 cluth. Price Si. 00. 
 
 We might say many things in favor of this delightful publication, but we 
 tteem it unnecessary. Husbands should buy it for their wives : lovers should 
 buy it fur their sweet-hearts : friends should buy it for their friends. — Godey^a 
 Lady''s Book, 
 
 WHILE IT WAS MORNING. 
 
 By Virginia F. Townsend, author of " Living and Loving.** 
 i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 THE ANGEL VISITOR ; or. Voices of the Heart. 
 l2mo., clolh, with Mezzotint Engraving. Price $1.00. 
 " The mission of this volume is to aid in doing good to those in affliction.* 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. C. EVANS. 1$ 
 
 THE LADIES' HAND BOOK 
 
 OF 
 
 Fancy and Ornamental Needle-Work. 
 
 COMPRISING 
 
 Full directions with patterns for working in Embroidery, Applique, 
 Braiding, Crochet, Knitting, Netting, Tatting, Quilting, Tam- 
 bour aud Gobelin Tapestry, Broderie Anglaise, Guipure Work, 
 Canvass Work, Worsted Work, Lace Work, Bead Work, 
 Stitching, PatcK Work, Frivolite, &c. Illustrated with 262 
 Engraved Patterns, taken from original dcbigns. By Miss 
 Florence Hartley. One volume, Quarto Cloth. Price, 
 $1 25. 
 
 The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, 
 
 AND 
 
 MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 
 
 A Hand Book for the use of Ladies in Polite Society. By 
 Florence Hartley. i2mo., cloth. Price, ^i 00. 
 
 The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette, 
 
 and 
 
 MANUAL OF POLITENESS. 
 
 Being a Complete Guide for a Gentleman's Conduct in all his 
 relations toward Society. By Cecil B. Hartley. 12 mo. 
 Price, $1 00 
 
1 6 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 
 
 LECTURES FOR THE PEOPLE: 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Rev. H. STOWELL BROWN, 
 
 Of the Myrtle Street Baptist Chapel^ Liverfoel^ England. 
 
 First Series, published under a special arrangement with the author. 
 With a Biographical introduction by Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie. 
 With a splendidly engraved Steel Portrait. One vol., 414 pages. 
 i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 Mr. Brown's lectures fill an important place, for which we have no other 
 Isook. The style is clear, the spirit is kind, the reasoning careful, and tha 
 argument conclusive. We are persuaded that this book will render more 
 good than any book of sermons or lectures that have been published in this 
 19th century. — Liverpool Mereury. 
 
 THE HOME BOOK OF HEALTH AND MEDICINE; 
 
 Or, The Laws and Means of Physical Culture, adapted to 
 practical use. Embracing a treatise on Dyspepsia, Digestion, 
 Breathing, Ventilation, Laws of the Skin, Consumption, how 
 prevented; Clothing, Food, Exercise, Rest, &c. By W. A. 
 Alcott, M. D. With ^i illustrations. Large izmo. Price, 
 $1.25. 
 
 LIFE OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, 
 
 First Wife of Napoleon I. Illustrated with Steel Portraits. •By 
 J. T. Laurens, author of "Heroes and Patriots of the South." 
 i2mo. cloth. Price, $1.00. 
 
 LIVES OF THE HEROES OF THE AMERICAN 
 REVOLUTION. 
 
 Comprising the Lives of Washington and his Generals. The 
 Declaration of Independence. The Constitution of the United 
 States. The Inaugural, First Annual . and Farewell Addresses 
 of Washington. With Portraits. i2mo., cloth. Price $1.00 
 
 COLUMBA; A Tale of Corsica. 
 
 By Prosper Merimee. As a picture of Corsican life and manners, 
 Columba is unequalled. In one handsome volume. Price $1.00 
 
LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. 17 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A PASTOR'S LIFE. 
 By S. H. Elliott. One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 " This is a woll-written, highly instructive book. It is a story of the life- 
 teachings, and life-trials of a good man, whose great aim was to elevate, 
 morally and intellectually, his fellow-men. Like many of his nature and 
 temperament, some of his views were Utopian. But his successes and 
 failures, with the causes of these, are painted with a masterly hand. There 
 is unusual strength aad vitality in this volume." 
 
 THREE PER CENT. A MONTH; 
 
 Or, the Perils of Fast Living. A Warning to Young Men. 
 By Chas. Burdett, One volume, izmo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 "The style of this book is direct and effective, particularly fitting the 
 impression which such a story should make. It is a very spirited and in- 
 structive tale, leaving a good impression both upon the reader's sensibilitiea 
 and morals." 
 
 EVENINGS AT HOME; 
 
 Or, Tales for the Fireside. By Jane C. Campbell. One 
 volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 " We know of no book in the whole range of modem fictitious literature 
 we would sooner select for a delightful and instructive companion." 
 
 RURAL LIFE; 
 
 Or, Prose and Poetry of the Woods and Fields. By Harry 
 Penciller. One volume, cloth, i2mo. Price $i.oo. 
 
 " Beautiful landscapes, family scenes and conversations, rural sketches of 
 woods and vales, of the beauties of verdant fields and fragrant flowers, of 
 the music of birds and running brooks, all described in an original and un- 
 studied manner, which cannot fail to deUght every one whose character is 
 imbued with a love of nature." 
 
 JOYS AND SORROWS OF HOME; 
 
 An Autobiography. By Anna Leland. One volume, i2mo., 
 cloth. Price $i.oo 
 
 "This is one of the most beautiful domestic stories we have ever read, 
 Intensely interesting, with a natural flow and easiness which leads the reader 
 Imperceptibly on to the close, and then leaves a regret that the tale is done." 
 
1 8 LIST OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY G. G. EVANS. "*^^ 
 
 BEAUTY OF WOMAN'S FAITH; <~ 
 
 A Tale of Southern Life. One volume, izmc, cloth. Price 
 $1 oo. 
 
 **This volume contains the story of a French Emigrant, who first e&caped 
 to England, and afterward settled on a plantation in Louisiana. It is charm- 
 ingly told, and the strength and endurance of woman's faith well illustrated." 
 
 THE ORPHAN BOY; 
 
 Or, Lights and Shadows of Northern Life. By Jeremy Loud. 
 One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price ^i.oo. 
 
 *'This is a work illustrating the passions and pleasures, the trials and tri- 
 umphs of common life; it is well written and the interest is admirably sus- 
 tained." 
 
 THE ORPHAN GIRLS; 
 
 A Tale of Life in the South. By James S. Peacock, M.D.^ 
 of Mississippi. One volume, i2mo., cloth. Price $i.oo. 
 
 "The style is fluent and unforced, the description of character well limned, 
 and the pictures of scenery forcible and felicitous. There is a natural con- 
 veyance of incidents to the denouement, and the reader closes the volume with 
 an increased regard for the talent and spirit of tho author." 
 
 NEW ENGLAND BOYS; 
 
 Or, the Three Apprentices. By A. L. Stimson. One volume, 
 izmo.. Cloth. Price $i oo. 
 
 " This is a very agreeable book, written in a dashing independent style. The 
 incidents are numerous and striking, the characters life-like, and the plot 
 sufficiently captivating to enchain the reader's attention to the end of the 
 volume." 
 
 THE KING'S ADVOCATE; 
 
 Or, the Adventures of a Witch Finder. One volume, 1 2mo., 
 cloth. Price$i.oo. 
 
 "This is a book so thoroughly excellent, so exalted in its character, bo full 
 of exquisite pictures of society, and manifesting so much genius, skill, and 
 knowledge of human nature, that no one can possibly read it without admit- 
 ting it to be, in every way, a noble book. The story, too, is one of stirring 
 interest; and it either sweeps you along with its powerful spell, or beguiles 
 you with its tenderness, pathos and geniality." _■ ^% Q y 
 
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